Peter, Mike, and Micky crept along the side of the warehouse on Broad Street. It was a familiar one to all of them since they had all just been there about two weeks ago. Peter was positive that Rasmussen would return to the scene of the crime to set his trap. When you want to be found you hide in plain sight. Peter motioned for Mike and Micky to duck as he peeked into the window. Sure enough Kit and Davy were there tied up and being guarded by Rasmussen and his four henchmen. Peter then motioned for Mike and Micky to follow him around the corner to the back of the building.

"Yep, they're in there alright."

"Okay, what do we do?" Mike asked.

"On my count we'll rush the scene. My guess is they will be expecting us and put up one hell of a fight. Be on alert. Watch yourself from every angle. Whenever someone has a spare moment untie the other two so they can help us fight."

Mike and Micky nodded and waited for Peter's signal. Peter watched the scene inside for the opportune moment to strike. He had been thinking on the way there about the decision he had been trying to make. He was in way over his head right now and his friends lives ended up in danger because of him. The decision was clear; this was going to be his final mission.

He gripped the edge of the concrete windowsill and tried to steady his hands. "One last time," he whispered to himself. "One. Last. Time. Let's go!"

The trio burst through the unlocked back door to the warehouse and were greeted by the cool, collected smile of Rasmussen.

"Tork, I've been expecting you."

"I figured that."

"I didn't expect you to bring guests though. No matter though we are fully prepared to take you all on."

Rasmussen snapped his fingers and the four henchmen advanced towards them. Peter signaled to Mike and Micky through hand gestures to separate. Micky ran left and Mike went right. While Peter went straight for Rasmussen himself.

One henchman followed Micky. He took a swing at the drummer who ducked seamlessly underneath it. Micky threw a punch into the man's stomach momentarily knocking the wind out of him. He grabbed the strings out of his pockets and strung it tautly around the man's neck while pushing him forward with his leg. The man clawed at his throat feverishly before collapsing to the ground. A second henchman came from the right and knocked Micky to the ground with a punch to the cheek. Micky gathered himself and touched the blood on his lip. The henchman was coming back for seconds. Micky fumbled around behind his head grabbing an old fire extinguisher and bashing the man across the face knocking him out cold.

Mike was surrounded by two henchmen. They were throwing punches and kicks that Mike was smoothly dodging like he had been doing this all his life. He used his brass knuckle clad fist to throw an uppercut to one man knocking him to the ground. The second henchman put his arms around Mike's neck in a chokehold. Mike was pulling at the arm trying to free himself, but he could feel himself losing consciousness.

Next thing he knew, he felt his breath returning to him and his throat freed. He looked over and saw the henchman being pummeled by a now free Kit. The henchman Mike had punched was headed towards Kit and Mike took the pistol out of his holster and pistol whipped the back of his head rendering him unconscious. Kit had knocked the final henchman out with a high kick to the throat. Mike scanned the room and found Micky untying Davy. There was no sign of Peter or Rasmussen.

"Come on, you guys they went this way!" Kit called out.

Peter had set his sights on Rasmussen from the beginning. He made a beeline for him immediately which Rasmussen greeted with running down a hallway. Peter was no fool. He knew that Rasmussen was trying to get him alone to be able to inflict maximum damage with no risk of being interrupted. Peter followed him anyway, because this needed to end right now. He had anger and adrenaline coursing through him veins. This was ending today.

Rasmussen had ducked into a room at the end of the hallway. As Peter walked inside, he dipped into a crouching position and missed being smashed in the face with a metal folding chair. This caught Rasmussen off guard and he stumbled a bit.

"Nice moves, Tork. You're a more worthy adversary than I anticipated."

"I'm happy to exceed expectations," Peter quipped.

"Too bad you have to waste all that talent and die today."

"I didn't plan on dying today," Peter spat back; "It wasn't on the agenda."

Peter rushed forward and forcefully knocked Rasmussen to the ground. He swept his leg under Peter's knocking him to the ground as well. Peter hopped up quickly and narrowly avoided a punch thrown his way. Both men continued to exchange blows sometimes successfully but mostly being blocked by their opponent.

"Seems we are pretty evenly matched," Rasmussen commented as they danced around in fighting position.

"Don't insult me like that," Peter's mouth quirked up into a menacing grin.

Peter reached into his holster for his revolver and noticed that it was no longer there. He looked down and then heard a click.

"Were you looking for this?" Rasmussen asked pointing Peter's revolver at him.

Peter looked in shock and horror. He didn't want to ask the question on his mind so that Rasmussen would see him sweat. But the other man must have sensed it.

"Wondering how I got this? When you fell to the floor it slid towards me and I grabbed it before you caught your bearings."

Peter stared down the barrel of his own gun with disdain. He felt sick.

"How does it feel?" Rasmussen asked.

"What?" Peter countered defiantly.

"To know that you are going to be killed at the hands of your own weapon."

"I wouldn't know," Peter said doing a roundhouse kick and knocking the gun out of Rasmussen's hands. He then took advantage of the stunned man and laid a direct punch to the face followed by a barrage of similarly fatal blows.

Peter looked into the bloody and now disfigured face of his opponent. "How does it feel to know your plan failed?" With one swift movement Peter took Rasmussen's head in his hands and twisted it violently breaking his neck.

Peter got up and used his sleeve to wipe the blood dripping from above his eyebrow. He stared down at the lifeless body before him. Nothing was exhilarating about this anymore. It was sad and disturbing. He heard a rush of footsteps running toward him and went to greet them at the door.

"Is he?" Kit asked.

Peter nodded solemnly and embraced her. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. This had been an emotionally taxing experience and he was finally able to feel some sort of sweet release.

"Thank you," Kit whispered in his ear.

"Ahem," Mike cleared his throat, "So I um contacted the CIS and they should be here any minute. Maybe Micky, Davy, and I should get out of here before we get you guys into any more trouble."

Peter gave a slight nod. "Thanks you guys. Couldn't have done this without you."

Mike squeezed Peter's shoulder and led Micky out the door. Davy stayed back and took Kit's hands in his. Peter moved out of the way so they could have a little privacy.

"Are you alright, Love?"

"I'm completely fine."

"Take it from someone who goes through this often, you handled that like a pro," He smiled at her.

"You didn't do so bad yourself."

Davy leaned forward and puckered up but was met with a hand instead of lips. His face contorted in confusion as he waited for Kit to explain.

"I don't think this is going to work out between you and I."

"What do you mean?"

"Listen, we had some fun, but this made me realize that my job is my number one love. I can't risk it by having a fling with someone else."

Davy let her hands go and looked at the ground forlorn. He had really been falling for her. He knew though that the CIS was a tough opponent to beat. It was her whole life and Davy cared enough about her to let her have that.

"If you change your mind or your eager to go a few more rounds with me in the sack, you know where to find me," his wink and tone of voice was mischievous but there was obvious pain in his eyes.

Kit kissed his cheek and he followed Micky and Mike out of the room.

Kit and Peter walked in stride towards the main room of the warehouse to meet Northcote.

"Why didn't you ask the CIS for help in saving me?"

"I didn't want your career ruined. It is my fault you met Davy in the first place and why Rasmussen wasn't stopped the first night we attacked him. Why didn't you ask for my help when Davy went missing?"

"I didn't want you to be angry with us. I thought I could do this on my own. Turns out I am nothing without you."

"I kind of need you too," Peter said bumping into her as they walked.

"You don't need me! You've got an arsenal of partners at home."

"Yeah, but to be fair I've been working with them longer and they have an unusual set of skills."

"So I've heard."

Peter became quiet as they stopped walking. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kit, I don't know how to tell you this but I'm resigning."

"What?"

"I'm not cut out for this."

"What do you mean? You're perfect for this job."

"I may have the skills, but my heart's not in it anymore. I can't risk my life and that of those I care about. This is not me."

Kit nodded and jumped into Peter's arms in a loving embrace. "I'll never have a partner like you again."

The moment was interrupted by the CIS bursting into the building. The other agents swarmed assessing the scene.

"Tork! Fitzgerald! What's going on here?" Northcote demanded. "I got an anonymous call that there was some commotion going on here."

Peter and Kit pulled apart and looked at each other for support. Peter flashed Kit a look that let her know he was going to take the lead. Just like they had facial expressions and gestures during missions this time was no different. There really was a strong partnership between the two. Peter was really going to miss that.

"Sir, we ran into each other outside the CIS after the meeting was supposed to take place. Kit was rushing over there from the senior center. We were going to come back in but we saw Rasmussen while we were talking and tailed him here," Peter took the lead explaining.

"Yes sir, he didn't even see us coming. Caught him completely off guard. We were able to take him down and finally end this."

Northcote eyed them suspiciously before his face softened. "Good work you two, you are my dream team. You had me worried for a bit there but you two pulled it together."

Kit and Peter both exhaled with relief. They really had pulled this whole thing off with the safety of those important to them.

"I think this may involve moving up the ranks a bit. What do you say?" Northcote interrupted their moment of relaxation.

Kit and Peter looked at each other guiltily. They knew that was the last thing they deserved or even wanted. It would be wrong to accept.

"Sir, that is a generous offer; however I'm going to have to decline. "

"Tork, this could really give you a boost in your career."

"I know that which is not the direction I'm headed. I'm resigning from the CIS."

"Tork, you are one of my top men. It took me a long time to recruit you. You're willing to give all that up?"

"I've got more important dreams to pursue."

"And I'd like to hold my current position and train a new partner," Kit added wanting to decline the offer as well.

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"As of right now, I set on my decision.

"You're a hell of an assassin, Tork. Forgive me if I try to win you back at some point. I have to ask though, what could be a bigger dream than moving up the ranks of the CIS?"

"I'm a musician, sir. Gotta keep chasing that dream."