The sound of the gunshot seemed to reverberate through Sam's entire being, mixing with his mother's pain-filled cry.

The moment Davyn's body hit the ground, she wiggled herself out of Kay's hold and charged at him. A dark stain blossomed on the left side of his torso, making it clear that the bullet had hit its mark. Maxi pulled his head in her lap, desperate tears sliding down her face.

"The rest of you have no reason to move," Von Crooken declared the moment Jessie made to get to them, too.

A wave of hatred overwhelmed Sam, but he pushed it back, trying to keep his head clear because they were still in danger, maybe more so than ever. He'd lost all hope that Freider would spare them. Because even if he might hesitate to kill his actual children, Sam had a feeling he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Kyle, Kay, Jessie or Angie.

"I'm not dead," Davyn grumbled, pushing himself up against Maxi. His right hand rested over his wound and he winced. "Damn, this stings. You always were such a lousy shot. Why couldn't you aim for my head or my heart?"

Freider's eyes widened, obviously not intending to give Davyn a mere flesh wound.

"Maybe I should do it," Von Crooken said.

"Hold your horses, Nicholas. I realized that I wanted to do one more thing before I went down in a blaze of glory." Davyn pulled himself even higher and yelped in pain.

"Maybe you should stop moving," Maxi said. "And also stop being a dramatic ass and try not get yourself killed."

"Nope, I want to be standing for this."

Kyle moved towards them, but Jimmy pushed him aside and hoisted Davyn's right arm over his shoulders to help him stand. Which was probably wise since Jimmy was wearing a vest and Kyle wasn't. He seemed to realize that, too, because he stopped where he stood, glaring daggers at Freider and Von Crooken.

"There is one more tiny part of the story which I've left out."

"You've got to be joking, there can't be more," Jerry said and Sam had to agree. What else could hit them?

"I promised you something," Davyn said, turning to Kyle.

"And I promised you something in return, but apparently I fucked that one up," Kyle mumbled.

"The thing is, my promise sort of makes yours unnecessary, but I appreciated the sentiment."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Von Crooken said, pointing his gun from his former boss to Kyle and back.

"You see, Nicholas, I told Kyle about my little problem. You double-crossing me. And he promised he'd help me take you down. Which is admirable, but I don't really need it. And that is because of what I've been planning to do all along."

"Please! You had no idea what I was doing."

"I beg to differ." Davyn took a step away from Jimmy, standing on his own and facing Freider. "So I'm sorry, brother, but you're once again on the losing side."

Freider huffed, keeping his gun pointed. "You think that having my kids on your side ensures your victory?"

"Actually, yes, if they were, and you should count that as the biggest failure of your life, but that's not even it." Davyn looked from Jimmy, to Kyle, and each of them in turn. "I promised to help you bring the Counters down. And for that, I owe you an army."

"A what?" That was the last thing that Sam had expected.

But Davyn straightened as much as he could, blood still soaking his t-shirt, put his left hand in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.

The room fell silent, waiting for something to happen. Then, the battered metal door on top of the perturbing stone block in front of them opened and one lone figure stepped inside. It was a broad man with salt-and-pepper hair, a deep scar running down his right cheek and a monocle. He wore dark green cargos and a sandy shirt.

"Phillip," Jessie whispered.

"Firefox," Eye Patch breathed almost at the same time.

"Hello, everyone," he said, a pleasant smile on his face. "It's time."

And just like that, half of Von Crooken's goons, Eye Patch included, switched targets against their own.

"What the fuck?" Freider said, unable to compute that his entire army had been incapacitated.

"You forgot about him for a minute, didn't you Nicholas?" Davyn asked.

"Forgot," Von Crooken grumbled. "Not so much forgot as hoped he was dead."

"You're a very poor assassin, Nicholas," Phillip said making his way down the set of narrow stone steps against the wall as if he hadn't just strolled inside a warzone and they were all just having a pleasant conversation.

For a moment, he disappeared in the mass of goons, but then made his way to the front without incident, the masses parting before him as if he were royalty. He stopped for a moment in front of Freider, taking him in with the air of a man who'd heard a lot about him, but never got to meet him. Then he walked on and stopped by Davyn's side, opposite from Jimmy.

"Kay, Jessie, Angie, good to see you all here."

"Our kids," Angie said, her voice strangled by a panic which grasped Sam as well.

"Are just fine and well guarded, waiting for you to get home. Once we're done here." He raised his eyes to the door he'd come through, where three new men had appeared.

Billy half-knelt, holding a sniper rifle, looking older and wider than before, while Steve stood next to him, the usual grin on his face. Behind them, Eric looked confused and out of place, but at least was alive. Sam wasn't sure how much more shock he could take, but it appeared fitting to have everyone there to witness the end.

"Hey, guys," Billy said with a wave. "Sorry I couldn't come visit, but that's about to change. Also glad you didn't screw it up, Auntie."

"Just what the hell is going on?" Feirder demanded.

"Wow," Billy said, glancing from Freider to Kyle, "looks like I'm not the only Grant rising from the dead. Must be a family trait. Maybe I should go shoot my father just to make sure he stays dead."

Sam stared from Billy, Steve and Eric, to his father, then Phillip. The tables had turned so fast, so sudden, and he wasn't sure what to do with it.

"Why didn't you do this the moment they came in?" he stuttered, pointing to his father and Von Crooken.

"Yeah, about that... Nicholas did try to kill Phillip, andI wasn't sure he hadn't succeeded." Davyn said with a half-shrug that made him wince. 

"Wait," Kyle said. "Your breakdown. It was because you thought Phillip was dead?"

"That. And because I thought your kids were in danger as well, plus everything going on with you and..." Davyn sighed and winced again. "I'm always, always out of time. Even now, I got the timing wrong and it cost me. Sorry about that."

"Your timing was wrong? You didn't have to go and get shot," Maxi said, her voice still high and panicky.

"Honestly, I didn't think Freider would do it."

Sam stupidly hadn't thought his father capable of outright shooting his own brother either, but they'd both be proven wrong.

"So this is it?" Von Crooken asked. "All our years of hard work down the drain because of them?" He nodded in their general direction.

"Don't you see, Nicholas? They are the result of all my years of hard work."

"You can't tell me you planned this all along!" Left without the upper hand, Freider sounded hysterical.

"No. Even I'm not that good. I admit I wanted to kill them at first. But then I met them and realized they weren't you. So I watched them grow instead, saw how much better than us they were."

The answer brought a snarl to Von Crooken's face and he stepped away from his goons. "You think you can just end this? Are you planning to have them all shot?" He waved his hand back in the direction of his men.

"Not exactly." Davyn closed his eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. His body shuddered and it was obvious that he was in pain.

"Maybe you should lay down," Jimmy said.

"No. There is one more thing I must do." He opened his eyes and stared down his once-right-hand-man. "I'm actually planning to let you go this time because this showdown is not in anyone's favor."

Von Crooken grinned. "You know I have more men then you in this compound."

"Yes, I know. I also know I have the better men, and we'd end up winning. I'd just rather avoid all the death."

"You've gone soft," Von Crooken spat out. "You think you're being noble? You're being weak! This isn't over! I will hunt you down! And no, not just you. I will first bring down your spawn. He's been a thorn in my side ever since he was born. And then these brats you love so much and have been trying so hard to protect."

Sam wanted to laugh because Von Crooken had never been much of a threat outside Snitch Gravel's organization. Davyn had always had the better, more competent men.

But Davyn didn't seem to be thinking along the same lines. His expression morphed into one of anguish, as if he dreaded what he was about to do. But the resolve that followed meant he wasn't backing off.

"I was afraid you'd see it that way, Nicholas. And seeing what they're preparing to go through, who they must fight, they don't need your bumbling ass putting them in danger."

Von Crooken grinned. "Nothing you can do about it, is there?"

There was a moment of total silence after this in which everyone seemed to tense. Then, without another word, Davyn leaned over, took the nearest gun from Jimmy's holster, pointed it, and shot Von Crooken between the eyes.

The gunshot seemed to tear Sam into pieces as his body felt the danger before his mind could catch up.

For a second, Von Crooken remained standing, his eyes wide with disbelief that his boss, the man he made Snitch Gravel, could actually shoot him. Then, his body fell forward and crashed to the ground. The gun slid out of his hands, towards the middle of the room.

Then, in the blink of an eye, all hell broke loose in a myriad of shots and cries. 

Sam managed to duck a moment before bullets started flying over his head. He hit the floor and turned over to protect his side.  A stray bullet hit him in the back and he winced. Ears ringing from the noise, he turned on his stomach and crawled towards his brothers, knowing they needed to stick together. His mother's cries were discernable between the sounds of mayhem.

Blood splattered across the floor, drenching the worn stone in lakes of crimson. It was about the only thing Sam could see. Smoke and dust from wayward bullets filled the air, making it hard to breathe. He raised on his hands, his heart pounding against his ribs, his hearing barely there from all the noise.

Where were the others, why hadn't he reached them yet?

As sudden as it started, the war seemed to end, and a ringing silence filled the room. All Sam could hear was the desperate pounding of his own heart. Sweat coated his hands.

"Guys?" he called out, and his own voice sounded muffled in his ears. There was no answer.

He spared a glance to his right. Bodies riddled the floor, but shadows of men were still standing, shuffling around. He couldn't tell if they were friend or foe, and in that moment, he didn't really care. All he wanted was to see his family, make sure they were unharmed, but he was afraid of calling out again in case it wasn't the men on Davyn's side who had won.

The smoke and dust began to settle and the first silhouette he could discern was his father. He now stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by blood, his left hand clenched so tightly against the head of his cane that it looked like a white claw. He held a pistol in his other hand, pointed towards them. Sam followed his hateful glare and wasn't overly shocked to see it was directed at Davyn.

He still stood, the only one amongst them who hadn't dropped to the floor to protect himself, arms stretched out as if he wanted to protect everyone behind him. His mother, Kyle and Jimmy, even Phillip who were kneeling right behind him. There were four new bloody holes in his torso.

"Oh, fuck," Tom whispered.

Davyn crumpled to the ground and seemed to take all the air in the room with him.

"What did you do?" Jerry demanded, standing and stepping in front of Freider.

"Get out of the way, Jerry!" Their father's voice was filled with muted hatred.

"What, are you going to shoot me, too?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Jerry."

Kyle's voice had Sam jumping and turning to him. Without caring that Freider was still armed and he wasn't wearing a vest, Kyle walked over to Jerry and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Don't," he said. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! He killed his brother!"

"He's not dead," Jessie announced. "And he wants you here."

Kyle immediately left Jerry's side and headed for... It felt almost impossible for Sam to think of Davyn as his father, even if he so obviously was. Sam got back on shaky feet and joined the others around him. His mind whirled, bringing bile to his mouth, but he pushed what just happened to the back of his mind, trying to focus on one thing at a time.

Only Jerry remained standing like a shield between them and their father. Davyn's head rested in Maxi's lap, but his pain-filled eyes were on them. Jessie was trying to stop the bleeding by pressing the cloth of what was left of his t-shirt over the wounds.

"Kyle..." Davyn's voice was very low.

Panic was slowly replaced by the coldest fury as Sam took in the effects of his father's actions. "Jimmy, keep an eye on Dad," he said, not even raising his eyes to look at him. "If he moves, shoot him."

"Sam, what--" Freider said, outraged.

"Shut up, or I'll shoot you now," Jimmy growled.

"I got this," Billy called from somewhere above them and Sam could finally relax a little. After all, Billy had a sniper rifle and could control the room.

Kyle crouched next to Davyn, confusion battling pain and even a bit of revulsion on his face. Davyn took Kyle's hand in his blood-soaked one and squeezed, his glassy gaze moving over to him. The rest of them gathered around, giving him space, but staying in his line of sight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You do tend to say that a lot," Kyle mumbled. "We got it. You didn't know. You're sorry. It doesn't justify what you've done."

"I know," Davyn said, a small smile raising the corner of his lips. "If it did, I wouldn't have to apologize."

"Very good point," Tom muttered.

"To all of you. Jimmy, I should have kept you. Your turned out amazing. Tom, I shouldn't have made your life so hard. Sam... You changed me. What I did to you..." He paused and closed his eyes. "It made me see what I had become. And Jerry. You're so good. Don't let anything ever change that."

"We'll get you to a hospital," Jessie said quietly, pressing harder against the wounds.

Davyn let out a strangled sound that could've been laughter. "You're funny. Rachel was funny, too. Good and hopeful."

"So what? You're just going to die?" Kyle asked. His voice was strangely choked.

Davyn squeezed his hand harder. "Don't think I have much of a choice. The thing is, it's all yours."

"What's mine?"

"Everything I own. Everything I..."

"I don't want your stuff!" The anger in Kyle's voice made shivers run down Sam's spine. But it wasn't just that. It was the panic behind it, the fear.

Sam could relate. He had no idea why, but the thought of Davyn dying, of Snitch Gravel dying was surreal and made him feel vulnerable. It felt good having a real grown-up on their side for once, someone who knew how to handle the Agency, who could help them make the harder decisions. Apparently, they were never meant to have that, not even now, at the end.

"Phillip," Davyn breathed, the words barely discernable. "Kyle is in charge. You know what that means."

"Yes, my friend," Phillip said, bowing his head.

"Kyle, you made the right choices," Davyn said. "I didn't. You have Kay and... Damn, I didn't even get to see my grandchildren."

"I wish I had pictures," Kay whispered, leaning her head against Kyle's shoulder. "And you sort of saw one of them." She rested her hand on her belly.

"True. You've done so well. I'm so proud of all of you. You are all astounding, and even if it's wrong, I will take some of the credit for it. And just so you know, you did keep your promise."

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked. "I didn't help you with shit."

"You promised to save me. And you did, in more ways than you can possibly imagine. Millie..."

Maxi leaned over him, her hair falling over and shielding them from view. "Don't do this," she whispered. "Don't die on me now when I finally have you back."

"I've always loved you," he whispered back. "I don't know why, but I did."

"No, you're not saying goodbye."

Sam turned away, the pain in his chest too much to bare. He noticed Tom, holding Angie against him, obvious anguish on his face. Jessie gave up on trying to stop the bleeding and moved next to Jimmy, wrapping her arms around him. Sam wished he had Christine as well, to hold and put himself back together. Yes, Snitch Gravel had been their enemy, but this wasn't fair.

"No," Maxi moaned. "No, no, no."

"I forgive you," Kyle said all of a sudden. "You suck, but you were a better father to me than this murderous asshole who claimed to be. At least go knowing that."

"I forgive you, too," Jimmy said. "Though I wish I had more time to make you work for it."

"Ah, fuck it. I kinda like you," Tom mumbled. "And I would've killed and buried Freider in the backyard if I were you, so I have to give you some props."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he forced the words out as well. "I forgive you, too. Because now I understand."

"Me too," Jerry said. 

"Just so we're clear, we're only forgiving you now because you're dying, or we'd really draw this out and keep you in suspense," Tom pointed out.

There was a sound like laughter coming from Davyn, immediately followed by a loud sob from Maxi. Her hair still kept them from view, but Sam was done. He didn't need to look anymore. The fact that Jessie had abandoned her post made it very clear that there was no hope. So, instead, he wiped his eyes and turned to his father. It was easy to tell that the  only reason he hadn't intervened was the rifle Billy had trained on him.

With the smoke and dust finally gone, the room came into full view. Freider still stood in the middle of it, surrounded by blood, but he'd lowered his pistol. Von Crooken's corpse was at the bottom of the stairs, adding to the puddle. The remaining goons had pulled to the back of the room, covered in blood, Eye Patch apparently in the lead now. He watched his boss with a mournful air, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks.

Steve, Billy and Eric looked grim, too, and Sam had a sudden desire to remove the only obstacle still in his way. Freider.

"Do you feel better about yourself now?" he asked. Even he was shocked by how wet his voice sounded, but fuck it!

"You are all mourning a murderer," Freider said, his voice filled with disgust.

"We're mourning a man who repented," Jerry said. "And who had the courage to admit his mistakes and ask for forgiveness."

"His mistakes?" Freider let out a laugh which sounded very deranged. "He nearly killed you so many times."

"He also saved us. What did you do?" Tom stood and walked next to Jerry. "Lie to us, treat us like idiots."

"Guys," Kyle said. When he raised his eyes, they were full of tears. "He's gone."

With no final words, no grand gesture, Davyn Grant had left them to it right after they'd found him.

"No!" Maxi cried. "No, no, no..."

Phillip wrapped an arm around her to steady her. Kyle, Kay, Jimmy and Jessie all stood, their attention now fully on Freider.

"You did this," Jerry said. "You killed him. And you dare call him a murderer."

Freider threw one fleeting glance towards Von Crooken's body. "Yes, I dare."

"He didn't kill if he could avoid it," Kyle said. His tone was even, robotic. "You on the other hand..."

"Oh, don't you dare berate me, you bastard. Not for doing what I should have done years ago."

His very voice pushed Sam off the edge. "What you should've done was told us the truth!" he yelled. "Then none of this would've happened."

"You wouldn't--?"

"Understand?" Tom asked. "Bullshit. You lied to us because you knew that it was your fault, that we would blame you for what you did." He glanced over his shoulder towards their mother who was still crying over Davyn. "You both lied to save face, you selfish assholes. Because that was more important to you than your children."

Freider glared from one to the other, lost for words. "I did what I had to do," he finally blurted out. "I did it to protect you, you ungrateful brats!"

"Protect us from what?" Jerry asked. "It appears that we needed protection from you."

"How could you be on his side?"

"Because his side at least made sense," Kyle said, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed and the chills around him made it feel like the temperature had dropped to freezing level. "I promised I'd beat the shit out of you five years ago, when you hit your wife and ran like a fucking cockroach."

Fredier straightened, his gun hand twitching.

"I wouldn't move if I were you, Uncle," Billy said, raising his rifle.

"What are you going to do? Beat up an old, crippled man?" Freider asked instead.

"We're way past that point," Kyle said.

The danger in his voice was so obvious, it made Sam shudder. What scared him even more was that he had no intention of doing anything about that. The moment Davyn had left his legacy to Kyle, Sam instinctively felt like he could finally step back. He'd been their leader in the Agency, but he wouldn't be in their fight against them. It was time for a different type of leadership, the kind Kyle was much better at. So if he would decide that Freider needed to be shot, he wasn't going to interfere.

"I sort of wanted to test something," Kyle said, his gaze moving past Freider, to the remaining goons. "Eye Patch."

The man pushed himself off the wall, wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve. "Your orders?"

"What would you do if I asked you to get rid of this garbage for me?"

There was a weird twinkle in Eye Patch's eye before a crooked smile filled his face. "Depends on how you phrase your request."

"Wait, are you going to let him order the murder of your father?" The panic in Freider's voice was obvious now.

"What, you want us to talk him out of it?" Sam asked, feigning interest.

"Sam. Jerry?" His desperate gaze moved to Jimmy and Tom, but it was obvious he'd find no sympathy there. "So I was right about you! You're just as savage and as ruthless as your father! You have no problem shooting someone defenseless."

"Um, excuse me," Kyle said, raising his hands, "but I'm not the one holding the gun."

"So what? You're going to be Snitch Gravel now?"

The question made Kyle flinch, but also brought a steel edge to his gaze that had Freider stepping back.

"There is no Snitch Gravel. I am Kyle Davyn Grant, and that's all there is to it. I don't need a mask to hide behind." He raised his hand.

It wasn't just Eye Patch who drew out his gun, but Jimmy and Tom as well. Sam himself felt a subtle need to get in on this, obey the unspoken order, because Kyle's mere presence and gestures were commanding enough.

"Murder!" Freider cried, glancing from one gun to the other. "You'd become a murderer!"

The sound of the gunshot had Sam jumping a mile, because it came from behind them, not any of the guns Kyle could have commanded.

Freider stared at them with wide eyes as a crimson flower blossomed on the front of his shirt.

They all glance back to where Maxi stood over Davyn's body, a gun held in both her hands, steady and purposeful.

"Just shut the fuck up already, Freider," she said.

He did.

He was dead before he even hit the floor.

🧭🧭🧭

And there you have it. The climax of the series! I hope you're as excited as I am about it.

I have to admit I enjoyed it. It was dramatic and larger than life and holy hell, such a heaping pile of bodies! I do hope some of it was surprising and it made you get the feels.

Alas, our boys are once again left without guidance. But there seems to be a chance against the Agency. Also, the original Grants are all dead now. Time for the young ones to take over and be much better!

I do hope you will leave me your thoughts. This series means the world to me and I'm so emotional getting here. The thought that the end is so near weighs so heavily on me.

Don't forget to vote and comment!