I'm just awesome. You're all welcome, by the way.

I watch in shock as she steps out of the shadows enough for me to see her. Enough for me to make out the blonde hair and brown eyes.

Sarah.

I almost feel like shouting in relief as I see her, and then backing away in a corner. Because the girl standing in front of Volkov may be my friend, but she doesn't look it right now.

She moves like a tiger waiting to pounce. Like a predator. Like the killer she is. The expression on her face is that of a hungry lion, waiting for a taste of blood. She looks deadlier than I've ever seen anyone look. And this side of her, while I knew it existed, I have never seen it before.

Volkov goes to shoot her again but before he gets the chance, she crosses the room and grabs hold of his wrist, twisting it until there's a sickening crack and the gun falls to the floor.

He strikes out with his fist and she backs up a step. He strikes out again and she brings her knee up into his stomach, causing him to double over.

She walks calmly and confidently around him, waiting for him to strike back again. It's like a game to her. And she's winning.

He charges her and she steps effortlessly out of the way, bringing her elbow back into his back as she does so.

He goes to hit her again and this time she simply moves her head to the side, catching his wrist before he can hit her.

I always knew she was deadly. Always knew she could fight, and yet, I've never seen her do it until now.

And I'm thinking Volkov has vastly underestimated her.

"Tell me, Volkov," She says calmly. "Did I break?" She questions. "Did I submit?" Her voice, though calm, is deadly.

Volkov tries to back away from her but can't because of her hold on his wrist.

"What's a matter, Volkov?" She asks, her voice deadly. She releases her hold on him when he tries to pull away again and he nearly falls over.

She holds out her arm as if to say, "here I am." She even spins around slowly for Volkov to see her clearly. So that there's no doubt that she's here.

"You should be excited," She tells him as she takes a step toward him. He immediately takes two back.

She smiles and this time, it's a frightening thing to witness.

"Come on," She taunts. "What are you waiting for? You get the chance to try and 'break' me like you wanted to." She uses her hands to make air quotes as she talks.

Volkov, for once, is speechless.

Sarah notices and smiles again. This time, it's the smile I'm used to seeing. The sweet and innocent-almost childlike-one. But there's something in her eyes that doesn't match the smile.

"You thought I died," She says. "Didn't you?" She takes another step toward him.

He nearly falls over trying to get away from her.

"You thought I succumbed to your pitiful attempts at torture." She shakes her head in a mocking way.

I notice Volkov reach slowly behind him. I watch as he pulls a knife from under his shirt. I go to shout out a warning to Sarah, but it's not needed.

Volkov strikes out with his good hand in an effort to stab her. She simply takes one step to the side, grabs hold of his hand and twists the knife from his grasp. She swings her leg out and knocks him off his feet.

He shuffles back, trying to move away from her. He doesn't get very far before she brings her foot down on his ankle. He lets out a scream of pain.

I flinch at the cracking of the bone.

Sarah doesn't even bat an eye.

Sarah twirls the knife between her fingers on one hand. "I think," She says quietly. "It's my turn to attempt torture." She shrugs as she stops twirling the knife and stares down at him. "And forgive me," She starts. "I'm a little rusty with my torture skills."

She shrugs again and kneels down in front of him. "But I think I'll start with breaking every bone in your body."

Before Volkov even has a chance to react to her statement, she's snapping his fingers back, one by one.

"You know," She says between his screams. "I do recall telling you something. Something you should have listened to when you had the chance."

She snaps another of his fingers back. "I'm a neutral party until you piss me off."

She leans in and gets in his face. "Guess what? You pissed me off."

This time, she slashes out with the knife instead. Drawing a line of blood across his cheek.

She smiles at him and tilts her head to the side. "Got nothing to say?" She asks him. "That's alright. I've got plenty to say."

She digs the knife into his shoulder and drags it down his arm. Volkov tries unsuccessfully to get away from her, hissing in pain the entire time.

Sarah pulls the knife from his arm and stares at the blood dripping off of it. "Do you want to know why you couldn't break me?" She asks him.

Volkov glares at her before spitting in her face.

She doesn't even bother wiping it away. It's as if she doesn't even notice.

"It's because I was raised, trained, bred," She says. "to be your replacement. To be something better. A personal assassin for the gang." She shakes her head mockingly. "I was made to be better than you, in every way. I was trained, to be the best. At anything and everything."

She snaps one of the fingers in his other hand. Volkov cries out in pain. I flinch. Sarah's completely unfazed.

She shrugs. "Hate to burst your bubble, but the gang wanted to trade you in for a newer, better, model." She smiles. "Me."

She sets the knife down on the floor next to her before reaching out and wrapping her hand around his throat.

She leans in toward him again, until they're practically nose to nose, her hand still wrapped around his neck.

"I was made to be unbreakable," She says softly.

She suddenly smiles widely. "But you weren't." She lets got his neck and pushes to her feet, pacing in front of him. "How long do you think it would take me to break you?" She asks him.

He glares at her but says nothing.

"Days? Weeks? Months?" She ticks the suggestions off on her fingers as she talks. She shakes her head. "That might be what you think."

She bends over and gets in his face once again. "Reality is," She says. "I could break you in minutes. Seconds." She shrugs. "That is if I felt inclined to play your little game."

She turns her back on him and starts walking away.

He starts slowly getting to his feet, reaching for the knife she left on the ground in front of him. Though, his grip on the knife is extremely awkward because he's got one broken finger on the hand he can actually still use. He doesn't take his eyes off her and she doesn't turn around.

I open my mouth to call out to her. To warn her. Until I see the glint of a blade in her hand.

She knew he'd go for the knife. She wanted him to. She was counting on it.

He grabs the knife and starts toward her.

He barely makes it two steps before her knife's flying through the air and embedding itself in his arm.

He lets out a cry and drops the knife he was holding. Before the knife even hits the ground, Sarah's in front of him, her hand fisted in his shirt and pushing him backward.

She stops the base of a cracked window. One of the few with the glass still mostly intact. She pulls the knife out of his arm and holds it to his throat.

"I could break you if I really wanted to," She says quietly.

Volkov tries to fight back. To get himself away from the window. He doesn't beg for his life. Instead, he tries something else.

"Why are you going against me?" He asks her. "We should be working together. Imagine the things I could teach you."

I watch her. Watch as she tilts her head to the side before smiling at him. Watch as she lowers the knife and holds by her side, stepping back a step away from him.

I watch as Volkov sags in relief, thinking he's won. Thinking that he's got to her.

If he could read the look in her eyes, he wouldn't be thinking that.

"There's nothing you could teach me," She says simply. "And since I don't feel like giving you the satisfaction of one more second on this earth, regardless of my breaking you or not . . ."

She trails off and I see Volkov's eyes widen as he grasps what she's just said.

There's nothing he can do though because before he can react, she's already driven the knife through his chest.

Volkov clutches at the knife and stares down at his chest with wide eyes, blood soaking his shirt.

Sarah doesn't stop there.

She brings her foot up and kicks him hard in the chest, sending him flying backward through the window. The glass shatters as he falls through and it's the only sound in the otherwise quiet building.

Sarah walks up to the window and stares out wordlessly, staring down at the pavement below. Staring down at Volkov's body.

I catch sight of a red dot moving across the walls before resting in the middle of Sarah's chest.

She looks down at it and then at a building across the way. She gives a finger wave in that direction. The red dot moves away.

"Nicky!" I hear a familiar voice shout as footsteps pound up the stairs.

I turn my head to look at Quinn as she makes it to the top. She takes one look at Damien before moving her gaze to Ryder. At that moment I watch as she decides who needs her help more and she's already taking off her jacket as she comes running toward Ryder, with me still kneeling on the floor next to him.

"Volkov?" She questions simply as she wraps her jacket around the bullet hole in his leg. A bullet hole I had completely forgotten was even there. Though, in my defense, the other wound needed much more attention.

I look back to the window. To Sarah. To thank her. But she's gone. Like she was never there to begin with.

I look around the room, thinking that I must have missed her, but she's nowhere to be seen. She's simply vanished.

I turn back to Quinn, who's completely focused on taking care of Ryder. I could not be any more grateful to her than I am right now.

"Dead," I finally reply, answering her question.

She just nods, never once taking her eyes off Ryder. "I called an ambulance just after Damien went in," She says. "I figured with all the shooting someone would need one. It should be here soon."

She looks up and then pointedly looks at my shoulder. "And you tore through your stitches. Again."

I almost laugh at the scolding tone in her voice. Though I'm blaming it on hysteria more than anything else.

She barely jerks her head in Damien's direction as she continues to wrap Ryder's wounds as best as she can. "What's wrong with him?"

"Unconscious," I tell her. "And he took a bullet to his arm."

She nods. "I'll take care of that as soon as I can get Ryder at least somewhat stable."

Almost immediately after she says that Damien lets out a groan. He moves slowly like his whole body is in pain as he pushes himself up into a sitting position.

"What the hell happened?" He mutters, his speech somewhat slurred. He looks around before his gaze settles on Quinn. He narrows his eyes at her. "I thought I told you to stay in the car."

"And I thought I told you not to get shot," She retorts. "It was a stupid request."

Damien glares at her before looking to me. "Where's Volkov?" He asks me.

I look back to the window. He follows my gaze.

I think about everything Sarah's been through. I think about her past. Her history. How everyone will always view her as the threat, as the aggressor, no matter what.

It doesn't matter that she saved our lives. Sarah Smith is considered one of the bad guys to too many people. So, for anyone other than me, she was never here.

I shrug. "He jumped," I reply, my gaze staying locked on the window.

I can feel Damien's doubtful gaze burning into my head.

"He jumped?" He questions. His tone of voice suggests he will never actually believe that.

I nod. "Yep."

Damien pushes himself to his feet with a little difficulty and walks up to the window, peering out of it to the street below. I watch as he takes a flashlight from his pocket and shines it downward.

"So, out of curiosity," He starts. "Did he stab himself before or after he jumped?"

I listen to the wailing of an ambulance as it gets closer and closer. I look at Ryder. He's still alive, we just need to keep him that way.

"You have to make it," I whisper to him.

Quinn looks up at me and takes my hand, squeezing it. "He's not dying on my watch," She says and the look in her eyes says she'd do anything to keep him alive right now.

I nod my silent thanks to her before looking back at Damien and shrugging innocently. "Difficult to say. It must have been on the way down."

Damien shakes his head and grimaces. "Ryder's filling out the paperwork on this. It'll be my Get Well Soon gift to him."

I open my mouth to say the dreaded word we're all thinking. If. If he lives. If he gets better. But Damien's not finished talking.

He looks down at Ryder and even though he's keeping himself from showing emotion right now, I can see the tears in his eyes at the thought of losing his best friend.

"Because so help me, if he leaves me to sort this mess out, I'll go down to hell and kick his ass off the throne and back to the land of the living myself."

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