Author's Note: Here it is, folks! I forgot how long this opening chapter was...for the future, I have adopted the policy of writing shorter chapters, though! So you'll see that. It makes updates more frequent and it's easier on me. So anyway, enjoy this and thanks for sticking with me! :D

Rating: T (for language and violence)

Disclaimer: All rights go to Marvel. I own nothing but my OCs. Mainly Nicky Latimer. He's still badass.

Editing: All editing is done by me, I take responsibility for my mistakes.

Prologue

June 14, 2012 – Malibu

Nicholas Latimer groaned as his phone went off, interrupting his blissful sleep. His room was about a thousand degrees. Okay, probably not, but it was hot. The fan above his bed was swinging on full blast. Something warm shifted in the bed next to Nicky's arm. He instantly remembered the liquor induced night that he'd had as the magnitude of his headache fully hit him.

In his bed, was a girl, naked, snuggling with his panda pillow pet. Not cool, Stacy. At least, Nicky thought her name was Stacy. After a moment of debate and deciding that it probably was Stacy, Nicky's phone buzzed.

Nicky yawned and stretched his arm out, feeling around on the dresser until his hand landed on his phone, which was ringing incessantly, only adding to his headache. What day was it? Friday. Did he have anything to do today? He thought for a moment until the phone buzzed again. Nope, no he didn't. One look at the alarm clock told him this call was urgent.

It was 3AM.

Nicky looked at the phone screen. The number was registered as 'restricted'. He grunted as he sat up and thumbed it open, pressing it to his ear. "'Ello?" His voice came out groggy and tired. The greeting was probably unintelligible to the person on the other end.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Nicholas Latimer?" The voice was rough and thick and Nicky knew it all too well. He really didn't want to know it all too well.

"To what do I owe the pleasure at 3AM, Director Fury?"

"We have a job for you, Mr. Latimer."

Nicky rolled out of bed, sniffing as the cold air hit his bare chest. He scrambled around on the floor for his boxers and jeans as he pulled the clothing garments on, balancing his phone between his cheek and shoulder. "No, really? I would have never guessed, Captain Obvious. What kind of job are we talking?"

"Four man squad, in and out. More information will be provided at the location, given you agree to our terms."

"That's not much to go on, Director," commented Nicky casually. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He took a bottle of beer out and used his counter to pop the top, taking a drink and waiting for Fury's response.

The line was quiet for a bit before Nicky got his response. "We'll pay you double your normal rate."

"Triple it and we'll have a deal," pressed Nicky.

"Two and a half or nothing," reasoned Fury, a bit of frustration leaking into his tone.

"My services don't go cheap, Nick," drawled Nicky.

"And SHIELD isn't your never ending bank supply. I'd take the job before I offer it to someone else."

Nicky mulled over Director Fury's words as he took another sip of his beer. "When do I start?"

"There's a quinjet waiting in a private airfield about fifteen minutes from your current position. It's leaving in twenty."

"That's not a lot of time, boss," commented Nicky as he sprang into action, leaving the half-full bottle of beer forgotten in the kitchen.

"It'll be enough if you want the money."

"Touché, Fury. I'll be there, sir."

"Nice to have you aboard, Mr. Latimer."

Thirty-two hours later – Dubai

Nicky dove behind a pile of crates as a grenade exploded where he'd been standing just moments ago. He checked his M4A1 assault rifle and reloaded his clip. A burst of gunfire erupted over his head from where he was ducking down. Once the gunfire stopped, Nicky popped out from his makeshift cover and shot off a few rounds. A couple of grunts and thuds were heard as his bullets hit their mark and a few terrorists went down, dead.

Nicky ground his teeth in frustration as another grenade exploded, mere feet away from his location. He pressed a finger to his communications relay and spoke loudly. "Remind me why we're attacking a Ten Rings base in broad daylight? I was having a wonderful time with Stacy."

Lance Hunter, Nicky's old and closest friend from his days in MI6 when he worked with the British SAS, came over the wire a moment later. "Who's Stacy?"

"The girl I took home last night. The one I was with when you called?"

There was a vague snicker over the communications relay. "Her name was Samantha, Latimer. She introduced herself when you put me on speakerphone."

"What? No, I could have sworn it was Stacy."

"It wasn't. It was definitely Samantha."

Nicky frowned as he thought about Hunter's words. He put his arm up and fired a few blind shots over the stack of crates he was taking cover behind. "Well, that's awkward considering I addressed the note to a Stacy."

"What note?" More gunshots came over the radio link from Hunter's side.

"You know, the 'sorry for leaving you high and dry, please don't steal any of my stuff when you let yourself out, and while you're at it, lock up, please and thank you' note."

"You may have left her high, but I bet you left her anything but dry, Latimer," drawled Hunter sarcastically.

It took Nicky a moment to process Hunter's words as he took a grenade off of his belt, pulled the pin, and then waited a few seconds before throwing it blindly over his shoulder towards the sound of gunfire. A loud explosion was heard a moment later. "Oi, Hunter! Get your mind out of the gutter, mate!" Nicky barked.

"What you think that I thought you took her back to your place for tea and biscuits?! You're daft."

"Can we focus on the mission please? Our perimeter isn't going to clear itself, Latimer." Agent Bobbi Morse, one of Director Fury's best agents, came on the line. She was a few feet away from Nicky, behind her own cover, firing blindly at the terrorists. "Answering your earlier question, you're here because we're paying you. And we're paying you quite well," she grumbled. "Besides, someone's gotta get Doctor Killian outta here and cover our asses while Mack and I get the intel."

Oh, yeah. Doctor Geoffrey Killian. One of SHIELD's best field medics, captured by the Ten Rings. It was Nicky and Hunter's job to get him back. Oh, joy. Apparently, the man was some sort of medical genius and it was an absolute necessity to get him back into SHIELD hands. Nicky wasn't really sure what the fuss was about.

"Remind me also," grunted Nicky as he threw a smoke grenade over his shoulder into the middle of No Man's Land, "What that intel is supposed to be?"

Gunshots came over the line and Agent Alphonso Mackenzie's voice also came through, albeit the load of static interference. "You know we can't tell you that, Latimer. Have to keep you in the dark on this one."

"You know, I'd be much more inclined to help you guys if I knew why the hell I was helping you in the first place," muttered Nicky as he stood up and fired a few shots into the smoke screen, before running and taking cover behind an old fruit stand. Behind it was Agent Morse, thick blonde hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, free strands framing her face nicely. She was gorgeous, no doubt, but Nicky also knew that she and Hunter were seeing each other. It wasn't exclusive, but it was obvious.

Bobbi looked up at him as he slid to crouch beside her and started reloading his M4A1. "You know, the only reason you're actually here is because Hunter called in a favor to Director Fury so he wouldn't have to deal with two SHIELD agents by himself."

"Hey! You weren't supposed to tell him that!" snapped Hunter over the Bluetooth line. "For the record, I didn't want to deal with two uptight, rule-abiding assholes alone. I figured Latimer would make it less painful."

"You weren't calling me an uptight asshole last night," quipped Bobbi. There it is, the admission. Nicky could almost hear the secondhand embarrassment over the radio waves as Mack cracked up laughing and Bobbi smirked. Hunter was completely silent.

Nicky slapped a full cartridge into his assault rifle and stood up, releasing a hail of bullets into the smoke. He heard cries of pain and thuds as bodies hit the ground. He looked into the smoke, turning around, satisfied when he didn't see any movement.

Latimer hopped over the fruit stand and swung his M1A1 around, creeping into the dissipating smoke of No Man's Land silently. Content that it was clear, Nicky slung the assault rifle over his shoulder and began speaking into his microphone, "We're clear, how about –"

Well, he thought they were clear. That was until he heard a war cry and was suddenly gasping for air as he was forced into a chokehold. He felt the cold metal of a gun muzzle to the side of his head as his captor shouted something in Arabic.

"Latimer? Latimer, are you alright?"

"We're not clear!" he wheezed into his Bluetooth. "We are very not clear!"

Nicky's detainer tightened his chokehold around his throat, yelling louder. Bobbi stood up calmly from her hiding spot behind the stand. Nicky tried to shake his head, but it was no use. He was rapidly losing oxygen. The SHIELD agent replied in the man's native language and started to walk toward the two around the fruit stand. The man yelled again, holding Nicky even tighter and digging the barrel of the handgun into his skull.

Bobbi stopped instantly. Nicky noticed her hand slowly reaching for her back, but the terrorist didn't. He was still screaming, waving Nicky around, and not paying attention to Morse.

His funeral.

A moment later, a gunshot went off and the pressure around Nicky's neck loosened until it released completely and the man fell to the ground, dead, a bullet through his forehead. Nicky was breathing heavily, trying to get as much oxygen into his lungs as he could. He looked at Bobbi skeptically. "That man's head was really close to mine, doll."

"Yeah?"

"So how did you know you wouldn't miss?"

Bobbi winked at him. "I never miss, Latimer. Ask Hunter."

Nicky's face contorted into a disgusted expression. "I think I'll pass."

Bobbi smirked and started to sashay away, putting a finger to her Bluetooth. "Perimeter clear, how about you, Mack?" But Nicky caught a glint of something in the hot sun.

Nicky got out his Walther P99 as a man burst out from the cover of an old stone pillar and sprinted at Bobbi, knife in hand, shining like a diamond in the sunlight. He fired off two quick rounds. Both hit the man in the chest and he went down.

Bobbi turned around the sound of Nicky's sidearm and her gaze went from his gun, to the body, to Nicky. Mack's voice came through their earpieces, concerned about the gunfire from Nicky, but neither of them responded. There was a surprised look on Bobbi's face, her mouth open slightly, eyebrows raised. Nicky sauntered up to her as he holstered his sidearm and put his pointer finger to her chin, pushing it up so her mouth shut.

"Try and keep your jaw from dropping, doll, you'll catch flies."

Bobbi tilted her head a bit upward to look at Nicky. "Impressive, Romeo. And quit calling me doll."

Nicky just grinned in response and pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Perimeter clear, now, Mack. Quit acting all concerned. How're you two looking?"

There was one last explosion over the radio waves before Mack's voice came in. "I wasn't concerned, just wondering if Hunter and I would have to finish the op all on our lonesome. What fun would that be? And we're clear. Meet at the rendezvous point, if you're sure it's clear."

"Copy, Mack. Be there in five," said Bobbi before Nicky could respond.

Bobbi and Nicky walked to the back entrance side-by-side. Bobbi broke the tense silence. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that, Romeo?"

Nicky chuckled at the name before responding. "Six years in MI6 before turning into a gun-for-hire with Hunter, doll. He was Special Air Services. We met on an operation in '08 in Basra, Iraq. Friends ever since."

"I didn't ask for a background, Romeo."

Nicky shrugged. "You didn't have to. You were curious; most people would be with someone with an aim like mine. Could be concerning to some. And quit calling me Romeo."

"As long as you stop calling me doll."

"Fine. Sweetheart."

Bobbi shot a glare at Nicky who just grinned. She stopped and before Nicky knew what was happening, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. It was faster than a blink, and Nicky was barely sure it happened, but judging from the slight blush blooming on Bobbi's face, it had. "That was a reward for saving me. Don't tell Hunter."

Nicky just grinned a bit. "You know, unless you're giving me more than a cheek kiss, I take my rewards in cash, please and thank you."

Bobbi rolled her eyes and kept walking, shooting Nicky a wink over her shoulder. They were approaching the back entrance, and neither Mack, nor Hunter was in sight yet. "We'll see, Latimer. We'll see."

Nicky followed a few steps behind, a childish smirk on his face. Maybe this op would be one of the easier ones.

Boy, was he wrong.

On so many levels, Nicholas Latimer was wrong.

The operation should have been simple. It should have gone without fault. Should have.

But it didn't.

It was easy. The squad would break-in the backdoor and take out the guards stationed there. Once inside, they would break into groups of two, Latimer and Hunter, Morse and Mack, and go to their respective missions. Morse and Mack would head to the mainframe and Morse would download the stolen intel, while Mack guarded the door. Latimer and Hunter would infiltrate to the sub-level of the compound where they kept the hostages and free Doctor Killian and whoever else needed rescued.

Normally, it would have been simple. In and out. It wasn't.

It went wrong the moment they entered the backdoor. The terrorists were ready for them, and the room instantly erupted into gunfire. As Bobbi and Hunter flipped over two tables to use as cover, a bullet slammed into Nicky's chest. His bulletproof vest absorbed most of the shock, but he stumbled back a few feet, trying to recover from the force. Another bullet clipped Mack's arm. It wasn't too bad, but it was enough to get it bleeding profusely.

The four split into two's: Nicky was on the ground behind one of the tables next to Mack, using a piece of cloth to try and cut off the blood flow and Hunter and Bobbi were behind the other table, providing a bit of cover fire. Nicky trying to stop the blood flow with a bit of difficulty. He tied off the piece of cloth and looked at Mack. "You good?"

Mack nodded. "I'm good."

Nicky nodded back and clapped Mack on his good shoulder. "Up and at 'em, killer."

Nicky bounced up and shot a couple of the terrorists before ducking back down. "How many were there, Morse?"

"At least six."

"How many did you and Hunter get?"

"Four."

"Oh." Nicky stood up, kicking the table out of the way. "I got two, that makes—"

He cut off as Bobbi fired off a quick pistol round over his shoulder. He turned in time to see the body fall. Nicky looked back at Bobbi abruptly. "Seven. Four plus two equals seven. Apparently."

Bobbi smirked as she holstered her sidearm. "I gave you an estimate, Latimer." She walked past him towards the hallway, hips swinging cockily. "I believe that's Bobbi two, Nicky one?"

Nicky snorted a bit. "Oh, it is so on."

The four continued into the base before entering a narrow corridor. It went both left and right. Bobbi pulled the map of the compound out of one of her pockets. She looked up after a moment and pointed right. "The database is that way. Mack, watch my back." She looked back at Nicky and Hunter. "And you two…don't die. I'd rather not do paperwork when I get home."

As Mack and Bobbi turned and crept away, Nicky muttered under his breath, "Yeah, we all know what you'd rather do. Or should I say who."

That earned a snicker from Mack over their radio signal, a whiny "Nicky!" from Bobbi, and a hard punch in the shoulder from Hunter. Nicky just smirked and the two men turned to the left and headed towards the staircase.

That's when things started to go really wrong.

Halfway down the staircase, there was a loud eruption of gunfire on the two mercenaries' Bluetooth's. There was a bit of shouting in Arabic, some static, and then Mack's frantic voice. "Bobbi's been hit! She's down, GSW to the stomach, just right of anything major. She's losing a lot of blood…I'm downloading the data."

Nicky cursed lowly, but continued down the stairs, until her realized Hunter wasn't following him. He turned and saw Hunter going back up the stairs. Nicky back up and grabbed Hunter's arm. "Where are you going?"

"Mainframe. I'm going to help Morse and Mack."

"Hunter, we have our orders, Mack can take care of it. Bobbi will be fine."

Hunter jerked his arm out Nicky's grip, eyes blazing. "You don't know that, Latimer."

"So that's what it's about? Really? Agent Morse?"

"Don't start this, Nicky," warned Hunter.

"Lance, don't you dare turn away from me now. We're so close to our objective, mate. They're paying us enough for us to retire for good. Hell, we could be sleeping on stacks of money right now."

"It doesn't matter, we have to help Bob."

Hunter turned and started to leave and Nicky took a deep breath. Hunter was walking away. His best friend. He was walking away from him for the first time in five years. Nicky's voice was ragged when he spoke, "Walk away…and I can promise you this is the last you'll see of our partnership, Lance."

Lance stopped and for a moment, Nicky had a glimmer of hope. But Hunter just looked over his shoulder and whispered a soft, "I'm sorry, Nicholas," then he kept walking. Once he hit the top of the stairs, he disappeared from Nicky's view.

Nicky felt ready to give up then and there. His partner was gone. He was sure he'd be overloaded once he hit the basement. He was going to die. But Nicky didn't give up.

He continued down the stairs with his M4A1 ready to shoot at any moment. Once he saw the basement, he got a lay out. There were about six guys. The initial holding cell was huge, about ten people inside, at least. But none of them were the doctor. They were all children, averaging anywhere from five to fourteen in age. Nicky cursed lowly. He hoped the kids wouldn't see him, especially the younger ones.

Unfortunately, one of them did. Two, actually. One of the older one's caught Nicky's eye and Nicky pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded in understanding. The younger one didn't get the memo. He yelled, pointing at the stairwell, alerting the guards to Nicky's presence. He dove off of the stairs and landed roughly, ending in a well-executed somersault underneath a table. The guard stationed there let out a surprised yelp and Nicky pulled out his sidearm, firing off a bullet to the man's head before bursting up and flipping over the table, providing minimal cover.

Nicky shot another guard who was stationed behind the table, struggling to load his rifle. He never got the chance as Nicky's bullet hit the man in the chest and he went down. Nicky risked a peek over the table. There was a second cell, off to the side of the large one. It was divided down the middle-ish. Inside, Doctor Geoffrey Killian was pacing, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.

He dropped his Walther P99 and unloaded his rifle over the cover of the table, then pulling it back to reload it. Problem for him was that he was out of new clips. Swearing, Nicky tossed the rifle aside and picked up his sidearm off the ground. He had one partially full clip and his Bo staff left. Great odds, really.

A hail of bullets exploded from behind the table over where Nicky was crouched down. After the spray stopped, Nicky stood up and fired at the man who was reloading twice. One bullet hit his chest, the other, his arm. Nicky vaulted over the table and rolled, sliding to the AK-47 the man dropped. He finished reloading it as the fourth terrorist started to fire at him. He let loose a flurry of sporadic bullets, hitting the man in the arm and the chest. The man collapsed to the ground. Nicky inched his way around to position himself behind the cover of a white plaster pillar, which was holding up the ceiling.

He tossed aside the AK-47 upon realizing that it was out of ammo. Three deep breaths and a new P99 clip later, Nicky exploded from behind the pillar, racing to where he was sure the second to last man was. The man was surprised, but not for long; Nicky put a bullet in his forehead.

Quietly, Nicky scouted out the remainder of the basement. There was no sixth man. That did not bode well in Nicky's gut, but there was nothing he could do about it now, but sincerely hope there were no alarms to be raised.

Nicky stole a pair of keys from one of the men's belts and unlocked Doctor Killian's cell. The moment the door unlocked, Nicky heard a gunshot and the right side of his neck exploded into thundering pain. Stars danced in his vision as he fell over. He felt a tug at his hand and when he hit the ground, he saw two bullets fire from his own sidearm in the hands of Doctor Killian.

The doctor kneeled beside Nicky, his vision blurry and beginning to black around the edges. "Come on, young man." He pulled Nicky out of the way and tried to get him up the stairs.

"No…no…" mumbled Nicky, reaching for the cell keys. "The kids…"

Just then, Mack's voice came over the Bluetooth. It was grainy and static-filled, but Nicky was able to make out a few words. "Latimer…get out…place…down…hurry!" Then the communications relay shut off abruptly.

Nicky struggled to stay conscious, and stood up with the help of the doctor. The doctor was staring at him in amazement. "Lay down, now, you need severe medical attention—"

"Doc…" Nicky swallowed roughly, his throat like sandpaper, his voice reverberating in his head. "We gotta…gotta get out." He spoke quiet enough, but there was a single question from the remaining hostages.

"What about us?" It sounded like a child, no more than eight years old.

"Now, Latimer!" Mack's voice cut through the static, frantic and afraid.

"Be…back for you," slurred Nicky, his vision going dark.

"Promise?"

"Promise," muttered Nicky as the doctor started to drag him along.

Doctor Killian and Nicky got out just in time. They were greeted with relief, but a thick tension hung in the air due to the severe injuries of Bobbi and Nicky.

Moments after they boarded the quinjet, the compound exploded.

The next few days were like a blur for Nicky. He was in and out of consciousness, struggling to hang on.

The moment the quinjet landed back at the Triskelion, Nicky was rushed to the medical center. He'd lost three pints of blood and his skin was taking to a sickly gray color. The bullet had penetrated deeply into his collar bone. The doctors put him and Bobbi on stretchers and they were taken into immediate surgery.

Both operations were successful.

The surgeons dislodged the bullet from Nicky's collarbone and stitched up the entrance wound. They stopped Bobbi's internal bleeding and fixed her up as well. Both Nicky and Bobbi were going to be okay. But the tense atmosphere was just beginning.

"I could have died, Lance! You left me to rescue that damn doctor alone!"

"Mack and Bob needed help!"

"So did I! If that bullet had been an inch to the left, you'd be at my funeral instead of yelling at me right now. We had a job, Hunter, and you screwed it up."

"If I didn't help Mack and Bob, who would have? They'd both be dead too, if it weren't for me!"

The tension in the room was so thick that you could have cut through it with a butter knife. Nicky and Hunter were standing up, arms flying, harsh words spitting at each other. Mack and Bobbi were sitting awkwardly to the side. Every time one of them tried to interject, they ended up getting shushed. They stopped trying at that point.

"You seem to forget that Mack is a trained field agent, Hunter," spat Nicky. "He could have very well handled things. You and I have been in worse situations."

"I made a call, Nicholas, and you can't respect that, you can leave."

"It was the wrong call, Lance. You must be stupid if you can't see that."

"Tell me what part was wrong? You and the doctor made it out okay. The guards were all killed. No harm done."

Nicky didn't speak for a moment, his face impassive. Lance crossed his arms across his chest, a smug expression slowly forming.

The amount of rage building up in Nicky's stomach was incredible. He couldn't recall one time that he'd ever been that angry. There was a knot in his chest that was getting tighter and tighter, begging to be released. Lance's next words made Nicky snap:

"See? You know I'm right. No harm done."

Nicky took two big steps toward Hunter and grabbed him by his shirt collar, forcing him back, slamming him into one of the walls.

There was a cry of objection from Bobbi. Both she and Mack stood up, calling out for Nicky to calm down. They were there in a moment, Bobbi putting her hand on Nicky's shoulder and Mack trying to get Nicky's hands off of Hunter's collar. Nicky threw a murderous glare at Mack and he backed off, hands raised in a surrendering fashion.

Nicky didn't let Hunter go.

"No harm done, huh?" snarled Nicky, his voice barely above a dangerous whisper.

"That's what I said, wasn't it, mate?" Hunter's face was twisted into a smug smirk.

"How about you go tell that to the children that were caged down there like freakin' animals?"

The smug grin slowly melted into a look of confusion.

"Yeah, you heard me. The children. There were more in that jail than just the doctor. There we hostages. Kids. No older than sixteen. The youngest around four. They were in a different cell, with a different key. I didn't have time to get them.

"Mack told us to get out of there. I was bleeding out. One of the kids asked what was going to happen to them. I told them someone was coming for them, Hunter. I lied to them. And then…" Nicky's voice broke off into a hoarse sob before he could continue. "He made me promise, Hunter. A boy around eight years old made me promise that someone would come back for them. Minutes later, the compound exploded. They're dead, Hunter. And it's your fault," finished Nicky, slamming Hunter into the wall one last time for effect.

There was a blank look on Hunter's face. He tried to dig himself out, failing miserably, "You can't put that on me, Nicky, it was your job to—"

"My job?" Nicky's voice was quiet with disbelief. "My job?! Hunter, it was our job to rescue the doctor! Our job to rescue the hostages! If you would have been there to watch my back, those kids would be alive. I wouldn't have gotten shot. I wouldn't have had to lie to children and then leave them, knowing they wouldn't survive. Don't you dare have the nerve to blame this on me."

Hunter ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and then spread his arms wide. "What did you want me to do, Nicholas? If I'd have stayed with you, Bobbi would be dead!"

"And Bobbi knows the risks of her job!" Nicky looked over his shoulder half-heartedly at Bobbi. "No offense, Bob."

"Yes, but—"

Nicky held up his hand in defeat, taking a deep breath. He lowered his voice to an inside range and spoke softly, with barely controlled anger. "Fine. You want to try and put this on me, Hunter? Go right ahead." With an outstretched finger, Nicky jabbed Hunter in the chest. "But know in your heart that it's your fault that there are children who are dead. That it's your fault that there are innocents who were crushed by the explosion of that base. That it's your fault you've ruined this partnership."

Nicky released him grudgingly and turned to leave, but Hunter grabbed his arm, a pained, yet irritated expression on his face. "What do you mean, 'ruined this partnership'? Where are you going?"

Nicky jerked his arm out of Hunter's grasp. "Do you remember what I said to you on those stairs, Hunter? I said, 'Walk away…and I can promise you this is the last you'll see of our partnership, Lance'. I keep my word, Hunter. You know that."

"Latimer, I would have never left if I knew you were being serious—"

"Don't start that shit with me, Hunter. You know I don't joke about jobs. This is your burden to carry. Deal with it. Good bye, Lance." Nicky looked past Hunter at the slack-jawed expressions of Bobbi and Mack. "Good bye, Mack. Bye Bobbi. It was nice working with you. Don't take it personally, but I hope I'll never have to do it again."

Nicky turned to go, and then looked back at Bobbi, a weary smile gracing his face. "What did I tell you, doll? You're going to catch flies."

He didn't wait for her response, but heard a small, choked laugh come from the agent. Turning on one heel, Nicky left the room and closed the door with a soft click behind him.

Nicholas Latimer had meant what he'd said.

"Don't start that shit with me, Hunter. You know I don't joke about jobs. This is your burden to carry. Deal with it. Good bye, Lance." Nicky looked past Hunter at the slack-jawed expressions of Bobbi and Mack. "Good bye, Mack. Bye Bobbi. It was nice working with you. Don't take it personally, but I hope I'll never have to do it again."

Nicky turned to go, and then looked back at Bobbi, a weary smile gracing his face. "What did I tell you, doll? You're going to catch flies."

He didn't wait for her response, but heard a small, choked laugh come from the agent. Turning on one heel, Nicky left the room and closed the door with a soft click behind him.

Nicholas Latimer had meant what he'd said.

He sincerely hoped he'd never have to work with Hunter or Morse or Mack ever again. That same day, he got called for numerous other jobs. Each time, Latimer answered the calls confused. He said the same thing each time, using an American accent, rather than his native British one, 'Who is Nicholas Latimer and what kind of job are you talking about? This sounds shifty, I'm calling the authorities."

Each time, Nicky got the phone hung up on him. The same number never called twice. Nicholas sold all of his weaponry with the exception of his tactical knife and Walther P99.

Just like that, Nicholas Latimer dropped off the grid. Ceased to exist. Nicky used favors within SHIELD to get all the existing information in SHIELD and all other international databases wiped. He changed his name, pulled some strings and got a fake ID and passport. He got a new cell phone with a different number.

Nicholas Latimer was untraceable and finally out of the mercenary business. He'd never have to deal with SHIELD or shoot another assault rifle in his life.

Or so he thought. Of course, it would never be that simple.