"In all fairness, Ethan, Claire was never convinced her charms would work on you even if Cat wasn't around," Jim says, his smug tone only making Cat's temper rise," but I was supremely confident, having tasted the goods." That was something I could have gone without hearing. "'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.'"

"Thou probably shouldn't piss off a woman with a gun either," Cat remarks under her breath, slowly beginning to reach for her gun. "Or did you forget that one, asshole?" The look she gave him would have sent Lucifer running for the hills and Jim's mouth gave a small twitch to show it affected him more than he let on.

"Let's just get the money and get out of here," Claire pleads, looking to her husband.

"Yes," Jim agrees," let's get the money." Claire holds out her hand expectantly, sending the two friends she just lost apologetic stares. But that wasn't enough for Cat, she didn't want an apology, she wanted them to hurt.

"Ethan, the money." After sharing a look with Cat, the younger woman giving a slight shrug of her shoulders, Ethan holds one side of his jacket open for Claire to reach inside.

"You've earned it," Ethan mutters when Claire takes the envelope. Cat looks down at her feet as Claire pulls out the bills and counts them quickly before handing them off to Jim, Cat wishing she'd kept that envelope full of vacation photos to switch with the cash. Sure, she may have been shot for her trouble, but at least it would have been one last fuck you before she died. "You know, Claire was wrong about one thing, Jim."

"Oh," Jim asks, not really caring. He would shoot everyone soon and Cat knew what was coming. "What's that?" Ethan gestures to the breast pocket of his jacket, letting Jim know he was reaching inside to avoid being shot too soon. What he pulls out has Cat letting out a small laugh, it was the glasses that would record everything, the glasses Ethan had worn to get the NOC List at Langley, and they had recorded the entire conversation. Growing bold, Ethan slides the glasses on, looking straight ahead at Jim to get a good picture of his face.

"Morning, Mister Phelps," Kittridge says, tuned into the frequency they were using to communicate.

"Cat and I aren't the only ones who've seen you alive."

"You son of a bitch," Jim mutters in shock.

"Aw, come on," Cat jokes," his mother's a nice lady, don't call her a bitch."

"It's over, Jim," Ethan adds, he and Cat sharing twin grins. No matter what happened now, IMF would hunt Jim down and take him out. Ethan tosses the glasses over to Jim, Cat having a pretty good guess what was about to happen when Jim throws them to the ground and Claire tries to talk sense into him. He's too far down the rabbit hole for any common sense to reach him and now he's angry enough to kill. Before anyone else could move, Jim fired off a shot that hit Claire in the stomach, then Ethan was on him to get the gun away and Cat was using Claire's jacket to slow the bleeding.

"This remind you of anything?"

"K-Kiev," Claire nods, wincing in pain. "I think my wound is worse than yours, though."

"Yeah, that's for sure." Claire allowed her eyes to close, blood soaking into the fabric of her jacket as she bled out, and then her breathing came to a stop. "She's gone, E!" Cat turns as Jim runs past, launching herself at him and grabbing hold of one of his legs until he kicked out at her. The heel of his boot connected with the side of her head and Cat was seeing stars, left dazed on the floor as he and Ethan disappeared through the hatch that led to the top of the train. "Christ on a stick." She was dizzy as she got to her feet, climbing on the ladder just far enough to see which direction the men had disappeared in and finding both of them clinging for dear life as a helicopter drew closer. "Krieger, you dick," she hisses when she recognizes the helicopter.

Cat ducks back inside and stumbles towards the end of the train closer to the action, still woozy from the kick and seeing double. She opens the door as everything goes dark from the tunnel, moving to stand beside a conductor that was yelling into his walkie-talkie to the driver at the other end of the train. "No," he shouted frantically," don't, it'll crash into us! Accelerate, accelerate!" Cat and the man lock gazes when she stands beside him, Cat giving him a little smile and probably traumatizing him further since the side of her head was a dark blue and bleeding a little.

"How's it going?" Patting the man's shoulder, she looks out the large window in front of her and found the helicopter inside the tunnel, connected to the train by a thick chord that was probably meant to help Jim on board. She couldn't see Jim or Ethan anywhere, so they're either still on top of the train or grease smears on the tracks. Just as she was getting even more concerned, Jim slid down the front of the train and clutched desperately at the windshield wiper. He meets Cat's gaze long enough for her to show him the finger she's proudest of, then, scowling, he turns and motions for Krieger to come closer. "Don't you dare, you little bitch," she grumbles, her hands on the counter to steady herself as she leans forward.

"What the hell is happening?!"

"Isn't it obvious? Those two fuckers are stirring up a whole load of trouble and I'll have a shit ton of paperwork to do if we survive this!" Cat throws her hands up in the air, the poor conductor letting out a screech at her sudden movement. "Do me a favor, if you think you're about to pee yourself or vomit, do it in the next car." Krieger came closer, allowing Jim to grab onto the landing skids right as Ethan took Jim's spot on the front of the train. Cat hits the glass to get his attention, throwing her hands up in a 'the hell you think you're doing' motion he was all too familiar with. He gives her an uncertain grin and a shrug. Krieger was coming in closer now, the blade whirring right over Ethan's back. One wrong move and he'd be in multiple pieces. "Don't move!"

"No shit," he shouts back, Cat having to read his lips. It was terrifying to watch the scene, especially since she was unable to leave the car and help her best friend. Shaking again, she held onto the conductor's arm tight enough to leave bruises, and the man was holding her with his free arm just as tightly. This could be the last time she saw her best friend; hell, she might see him be murdered and she was helpless to prevent it.

"No," she whimpers, eyes wide as she watched," no, no, no, no, no..." Just as suddenly as the blades were over him, Krieger was forced to even out because the blades had hit the roof of the tunnel. "Yes," she cries out as Ethan wraps his arms and legs around the other part of the landing gear opposite Jim, Cat changing her position so that she and the conductor were hugging. Ethan sticks something against the front of Krieger's helicopter and then jumps back to the train, motioning wildly for Cat and the conductor to get down. Cat drags the man down with her to their knees, trying to see what Ethan had stuck against the helicopter to cause Jim to look so panicked and pissed. Her question is answered a short second later when the helicopter explodes, the shock wave forcing Cat and the man all the way to the ground.

Hurting worse than before after landing on her arm, Cat sits up as well as she can to check on her best friend. He was on his back this time with his head tilted as far back as he could manage, the jagged point of one of the blades was right under Ethan's chin, and the metal inches from his bared throat as his and Cat's eyes met again. The train had stopped just before the blade could slit his throat and the conductor slowly sits up next to Cat to look outside. The man takes one look at the situation, looks at Cat in bewilderment, and then falls backwards in a dead faint. Cat could imagine how he felt, but she didn't have time to faint yet. She gets to her feet, sore arm cradled against her chest, and opens the door for Ethan to climb in.

"You okay," he asks once inside again.

"I broke my wrist." She holds it up for Ethan to see, her wrist looking dented while the bone pressed against the surface of the flesh, not yet poking through it. "But at least I didn't get shot this time."

"There's always that." Leaning heavily on each other, they make their way through the compartments until they reach the car holding the IMF agents, Max, and Luther. "What the hell took you so long?"

"Jesus, Kittridge, we could have been killed and all you're doing is focusing on an arm's dealer."


Her arm in a sling and her emergency bag over her shoulder, Cat struggled to push the door open and step inside, kicking the door shut behind her. It was quiet in the house, though she could tell that Alexander still managed to keep the place clean since all the toys were in their proper places. Cat walks over to the stairs, taking them slowly and wincing when her muscles protest at the movement, but she continues until she reaches her bedroom. The sight that greeted her was enough to have her smiling—Alexander and Isaac were curled up in bed, Isaac snuggled comfortably against Alex's chest and both letting out loud snores.

Cat sets the bag down in the closet, removing the sling and undressing until she was only in a tank top and panties before climbing into bed with her two boys. The mattress was soft, her pillow wasn't too fluffy like hotel pillows were, and Isaac instinctively rolled over to her followed by Alex. Her smile widens when she feels Alex's strong arm wrap loosely around her stomach and Isaac's leg moving over hers, her eyes slowly drifting closed.

"It's good to be home."