So this is what it feels like.

That one lingering thought struck Desiree like the bullet lodged inside her as she struggled for one more breath and as she did so, the pain was even worse than the last one. One short intake of oxygen was like doing a marathon with a shard of glass stuck in your sole. Every exhale was excruciating it was not comparable to anything she had known.

He's coming. Keep breathing. He's coming.

With the last ounce of strength she had left, she pushed herself to her back. Her eyes closed and she lost her breath once more. The veins in her throat engorged as she held the scream of pain. The breathing was getting shorter and she opened her eyes.

The faint sound of footsteps was disappearing though her mind knew they were coming nearer. The buzzing in her ears was barely audible now. The light on the ceiling was getting dimmer.

So this is what it feels like.

The episodes of that night and the days that followed up to this very moment flashed before her eyes.

It was all because of that night...

Desiree!

Desiree blinked. She thought she heard her name.

Theo?

He has to be here. He has to be here.

And then her eyes fluttered close.

*****

Khaye jumped the few remaining feet off the ground, turned and started running all the way to the end of the alley. And she stopped short.

Marco was blocking her way. How did he find her? "Marco!" she said under her breath and then louder, "Marco! Oh my God! She tried to kill me! It's Desiree!" She ran up toward him, grabbed the opening of his leather jacket and sank against him. She cried against his chest and she started to tremble. She shot Desiree after all. She did it. It was all over and she was going to be okay.

But Marco was standing so still against her. Her heart started to race. "It's her. She had a gun and she pointed it at me. And then I don't know what happened next but..." her voice faltered when she realized he was not holding her back. His hands were nowhere near her body to give comfort. She pushed away from his chest and looked up.

And then she knew. It was in his eyes.

She looked over his shoulder and saw Gian standing just a few feet away. Her brother was looking at her with regret and sadness, but his jaw was tight. Khaye almost let out a whimper of betrayal but even her throat seemed frozen in horror. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after everything.

A man was running past them to the direction of the stairwell.

A siren could be heard from a distance.

It was all happening in slow motion and the realization hit her hard. Her hands fell away from Marco's jacket and she stumbled back, her tears streaming down her face.

"It's over, Khaye," Gian quietly said behind Marco.

*****

Theo felt like his lungs were burning, not because he ran all the way up to where she was, but because it was the fear that wrenched inside him as he kneeled beside her limp body on the ground. He brushed her red coat away.

Her entire abdomen was soaked with her own blood and he felt a tightening in his throat.

"Des," was all he could utter as he clumsily found the entry of the bullet a few inches below her right ribcasge and pressed hard. "Des, hey, hey," he hurried when her eyes started to blink rapidly. He roughly brushed her hair off her forehead. A tear ran down her eye as she struggled to keep them open. "Don't go to sleep. Stay with me. Please, stay with me. Des, hey, don't go to sleep, okay? Help is on the way. You're going to make it. You'll make it." He was trying to convince himself more than her. She had to make it.

The paramedics arrived closely and Theo was brushed aside as they quickly loaded and carried her on a board. He wiped his bloody hands on his face to clear his mind.

And then he followed the men carrying Desiree, his jaw clenched tight.

As he carried himself out of that building, Theo was thinking that someone would have to pay for this.

*****

Khaye was not saying anything and she held on for the next three days.

All they managed to gather so far were words that mostly translated to request for food and drinks.

Marco couldn't even bring himself to force the words out of her mouth. Hell, he didn't even fucking know how he felt or how he should feel.

"You know what happens to your brother now, right?" he asked her as he took the chair across from her and her attorney. He carefully laid the file folder on the table and opened it. "He's going to spend some time in jail for what he did." He peered at her, ignoring the attorney's hard stare. Her expression remained blank. Marco took a very deep breath and sighed as he leaned against his chair. "I don't even know how to fucking to this job anymore, Khaye. You've fooled us all, me the most of them all."

Her eyes met his and Marco realized there was nothing there. And he felt the anger rise within him. He shouldn't, not while he was at work, but he couldn't fucking help it. Clenching his jaw he said, "We could have easily solved the murder if Gian did not erase all the evidence against you. They found traces of Jamaica's blood in the sink of your hotel room and he erased the results from the files. They found a possible weapon under the bed and he wiped it clean. He disposed your bloody dress. He contacted you in secret and told you to run away. He confessed to all these three days ago and now he's sitting in jail for your crime. And he did it all because he's your brother. And you're not feeling fucking anything. You are not showing fucking anything."

Her throat moved but she remained silent.

Marco chuckled in disbelief. "The evidence we have gathered and the ones Gian hid are now being reassessed and filed accordingly. Since you are not talking and since your attorney believes it's a wise decision," he threw the man in question a glance, "I will no longer attempt to question you. Your case is being made ready for trial."

He gathered his files from the table and stood up. Khaye remained motionless.

"You could have made it, Khaye," he said, looking down at her. "But sadly, things will start to go badly for you."

"You can't speak to her that way," her attorney warned.

I've been between her legs more times than you've been around her presence, he wanted to snap.

"You don't even have to talk, Khaye," Marco said instead, ignoring the other man's protest. "The evidence and Desiree will do it for you."

He got the reaction he wanted. She looked up to him in surprise and he smiled down at her. "You may have succeeded killing Jamaica with a letter opener, but you failed to kill her friend with a gun." She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it.

Marco had had enough. He left the room and muttered a prayer that he never had to see her again.

*****

When Desiree opened her eyes, she saw what she was expecting. And he was sitting beside her bed, reading a book with his legs crossed.

"You told me it's boring." He did not look up from the page he was reading but reached out his hand to squeeze hers. "Theo, you said it's boring."

"Things picked up in the middle," he murmured the answer, his lips barely moving.

Desiree sighed and looked around the room. She frowned when she saw a bunch of flowers and a basket of fruits sitting by the table. "Those are new."

"What?" he asked absently.

"The flowers."

"Kane dropped by while you were sleeping."

"And the fruits?"

"Tatiana."

"What did your father get me?"

This time he looked up, his face serious. "Nothing. And he is not allowed to visit."

She feigned disappointment. "Bummer. I was hoping we could offer him poison."

He smiled and closed the book. "Feeling better?"

"I am actually feeling bored. I want to go home."

"The doctor said you need at least another day here."

"Can't we go today?"

"We have a hospital underground if you—"

"I'll stay here another day," she interrupted, making him grin at her widely. "I forgot to ask you one important detail."

He leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her nose. "What?"

"How did you find me?"

"Marco Morrison, one of the detectives assigned to Jamaica's case and the one keeping Khaye safe, has been keeping tabs on Khaye's phone to keep an eye on her and to see if you ever contact her."

She just nodded. She had more questions but she was too tired to ask them now.

She saw Theo checking his watch. "Do you have somewhere to go to?"

Theo shook his head. "I'm actually waiting for someone."

And as if on cue, the door to her room opened and a black-haired stranger in a leather jacket came in. His eyes immediately landed on her and his hard expression softened as he came near. "I'm afraid we haven't been introduced. I'm Detective Morrison. I handled Jamaica's case."

"Handled? Past tense?"

He shrugged. "It's practically over now, right? Our department is on the process of handing the case over to the DA. Our job is almost done."

She looked from him to Theo and back again to Detective Morrison. "You're not here to question me?"

He threw her a smile and said, "I'll take your statement after I have a talk with Mr. Karlsson."

Desiree frowned. "Why?"

No one answered her. It was as if she was there one second and then not the next because the two men stood facing each other from both sides of her bed and it was clear that they would rather be anywhere else than be in the same room yet they both knew they had no choice.

"Shall we talk somewhere else?" Detective Morrison asked Theo.

"I don't believe that anything we discuss will affect Desiree's recovery," Theo said. "And I am not leaving her here on her own. The last time I did, she nearly fucking died."

Desiree winced but kept her mouth shut.

"And you being here will not rouse suspicions. You're visiting an attempted murder victim related to the case you're working on," Theo wisely added.

"Fine," Morrison said. "Where were we the last time before you got that call and my ex-partner confessed his sins?"

Desiree frowned in confusion. Theo turned to her and explained, "I asked Kane to get his number when I saw his name in one of Vernier's files." When she continued to frown at him, he explained further, "And he was the one I met up with the day you got shot. We were just starting to negotiate in the restaurant above the east entrance when you called. And while I was trying to locate you, his partner—"

"Ex-partner," Morrison corrected.

"—called, saying he wanted to talk."

"He had started to keep tabs on his sister after she resurfaced and he realized she had gone off the radar," Morrison explained further. "He managed to confess everything in three sentences."

"And Khaye had gone off the radar, how did you—"

"I've installed a GPS device in her car, her boots, her bag," Morrison answered her unfinished question. "Thought it was to keep her safe," he added ironically.

Desiree turned her eyes back on Theo. "And why is his name in Vernier's files?"

"My father was killed by the Liaisons," Morrison answered grimly, his eyes darting to Theo, full of accusation.

"And you were meeting him because?" Her eyes were still on Theo.

"While we were studying Jamaica's case, his name came up. It sounded familiar so I went back to review Vernier's files. And I did what I do best: I came up with a very good plan that would hit two birds with one stone."

"Your plans against the Liaisons and Jam's murder," she said with wonder.

"But you went and did it all wrong and nearly got killed," Theo added with a shake of his head.

She just glared at him and turned to Gian. "And you agreed to meet him because?"

"The same reasons," Morrison answered with a shrug. "You guys thought the murderer is within the organization. I thought it might be you or someone you know. Having some sort of a partnership with one of the members of the Liaisons would have greatly helped the case and at that time I was desperate to get to you and find out the truth. Second reason, well, I want to fucking blow up the entire Liaisons."

Theo had been calmly standing beside her bed as Morrison explained his side to her. "And since the murder is now out of the picture, he came here to talk about the other matter."

"Not to agree on everything you have in mind," Morrison corrected, giving Theo a hard stare. "I am not—"

Theo's hands were calmly tucked in the front pocket of his trousers and he slowly circled Desiree's bed to face Morrison. "We have more than what you can give us, Morrison. We have the files and we intend to find more in the future."

"We only need those files to put the Liaisons down—"

Theo interrupted by saying, "They are not enough. They barely cover everything of what the Liaisons did, do and will do. What we have in our hands right now are the things that the Liaisons DID—every project, every contact in the last thirty or fifty years. What we don't have are the files on what the organization is doing now. I don't have access to all of them and I can tell you that it will never be me despite me being Hong's son."

"If you have enough files to back up everything they did in the past, it will be enough to—"

"Please, don't prove to me that I picked a moron, Morrison," Theo said, his voice growing stronger. "You are impatient to get into this. I just told you we still don't have in our hands the "DO Files" as I would call them. And we very well don't have the "WILL DO Files" which can help us determine whether what we are doing will end up in our favor or not. We have to be three to ten steps ahead of them."

Desiree lay on her bed, awed. She had never realized Theo had carefully studied the files. He never told her about the clusters. But she had been busy solving Jamaica's death. And it was not as if she was really part of the planning in putting his father down.

Morrison, to her amazement, nodded. "Fine. And what role do I play in this?" he asked in a rather sarcastic tone.

Theo smiled and said, "I have read your file. What convinced me to pick you was the fact that you have a personal resentment to the Liaisons to begin with. You've managed to put yourself in almost all of the cases the organization was involved in. You've studied each and every one—you're obsessed with them, even. You have contacts in different government agencies all over the country. And I am hoping you can make more outside because the Liaisons' network spans the entire globe. What is your role in this, you ask?" He dug his hands deeper into his pockets. "Let's just say that it's your job to make the weapon outside while I help you find the pieces to do so from underground." Theo's eyes met Morrison's dark ones. "It means, Morrison, that you will be my own liaison."

*****

Marco hardly believed what had just happened as he drove away from the hospital.

Him playing as a liaison between Theo Karlsson and the different agencies he wished to get in touch with was almost laughable. But he had to admit that it would not be easy. He knew the Liaisons well more than anyone in the taskforce, yes. And he had connections as well. But they would not be enough. He'd have to work harder.

He had demanded to see Richard Karlsson, only to be informed that the man had been killed by his own father, just like their mother. Their mother's death, he sort of believed. Richard Karlsson's on the other hand, he highly doubted. In his brother's defense though, Theo said that Richard did not personally kill his father.

In his utter disbelief though was that he had readily agreed to Karlsson's request that his and Desiree's name would not, in any way, be mentioned anywhere by any authorities on any media. Desiree would eventually have to come out but it would be her story to tell and the police would not utter a word against it. If he, Karlsson, as much as saw her name mentioned in the same sentence as the murder case, their deal was over and he would never have another chance to get as close as he was to the Liaisons.

Out of nowhere, Marco found himself beginning to laugh as he rolled his car down the highway. He laughed out loud until he could feel tears forming behind his eyes.

Quite a number of faces flashed in his mind: his father, Gian, Khaye, Desiree, Richard and Theo Karlsson and all the others who had made a significant mark in his life.

His laughter died down into intermittent chuckles.

He was fucking going crazy but hell, yes, he was going to do this.

And he was going to go get drunk tonight.

He'd curse the Liaisons and picture the ways he'd make them crumble to dust. He'd curse Gian for his stupidity. He'd curse Khaye for using and manipulating him to the point he considered making her a permanent point in his life. He'd curse his own fucking good and honorable self because he could.

He'd get drunk tonight.

Alone.