Paul pulled a wooden box out of the top desk drawer. He opened the lid, offering the contents to his friend. "Cigar?"

Kermit grimaced. "No, thanks. As much as I'd like to, but I'm not brave enough to face Annie's wrath if she discovers we're smoking in your den."

Paul looked disappointed, shut the lid and put the cigar-box away. "I'm afraid you're right, Kermit. However, it was worth a try."

Kermit grinned. "It's hard not being the boss in your own house, huh?"

"I wouldn't want it any other way. Annie is everything I ever dreamed of."

"Yeah, you were lucky, my friend. Your first marriage ended with you leaving behind a baby and a toddler. I know that wasn't easy. I never thought you'd start a new family, let alone settle down."

"Neither did I, Kermit. Let's face it, the only good things from my first marriage were my two wonderful daughters. Aside from that, it was a big mistake. I'd never marry someone from the business again."

"Don't let Annie hear that you're talking about marrying anyone but her."

Paul threw Kermit a look of pure death. Kermit responded with his patented wolf-smile before shrugging. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and leaned back into his overstuffed chair.

"Now that the small talk's over, what's the reason for dragging me into your den?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Do I have to have a reason? We've talked about many things here in my den over the past few days."

Kermit snorted. He peered at Paul over the rim of his glasses. "I know you too well, my friend. The way your right hand is resting on the desk indicates that I'm in for a serious talk."

Paul suppressed a curse and resisted the urge to pull away the traitorous, slightly twitching, hand. *The best defense is a good offense.* He took a deep breath.

"I want you to come in from the field, Kermit. I have a nice, cozy office just waiting for you at the one-oh-one. We need a computer expert like yourself."

Kermit held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy, Paul. I'm not looking for a new profession."

"Damn it, why not? The last raid went bad. Very bad. You were barely alive when Rykker found you in that hell hole. Your injuries nearly cost you your leg, not to mention your sanity! Kermit, I know the signs of a burn-out. And you, my friend…" he paused a second for effect, "…are burned out. Why don't you leave that life behind and settle down for heaven's sake! If you continue at this rate, you won't live long enough to celebrate your thirtieth birthday."

If Kermit was surprised about Paul's outburst, he didn't show it. "Well, then I have still three years ahead of me. That's better than nothing. Did it never occur to you that I like my line of work? I'm not like you, Paul. I'm not a family man," he said in a relaxed tone.

Paul huffed in disgust. "I don't believe you for a minute. You can't tell me that you enjoy killing people. Remember? I was there when you killed a person for the first time. You puked out your guts afterwards!"

Kermit showed his white teeth. "A lot has changed since then. As far as I remember, you were the one who showed me how to kill people. Everything I know, I learned from you," he shot back.

Paul rubbed his chin. "You were a young smart-ass who knew nothing about life. I promised your father I'd take care of you when he died in that attack, but I have to admit it was a big mistake to allow you to follow into your father's footsteps."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Kermit sputtered.

"Yes, there is! You believe you're a cold-blooded killer, but you're not, Kermit. When I first met you, you were a bright, caring, open-minded and very inquisitive boy. The death of your father changed you. All you could think of was revenge. In that state of mind, you were a threat to your own family.

"You never realized how much Marilyn, David and your mother needed you. You retreated into yourself and shut everyone else out. You might think it was a coincidence that I showed up after you were in that fight with a street gang, but it wasn't. I took you with me - kept you out of prison - because I knew prison would break you. We, your mother and I, thought if I could take you under my wing, I could prevent the worst. Unfortunately, we were wrong. I…"

"Stop!"

The younger man's angry shout interrupted Paul's uncommonly long speech. His fist came down hard on the desk, now his stone-faced mask he always showed to the world was gone. He tore his dark glasses from his face and glared at Paul. His jaw twitched in pain and rage, and he swallowed hard.

In a dangerous tone, spoken low and slow, which made it even more ominous, he added, "You're crossing the line, Paul. No one is allowed to do that and still live to talk about it. No one, not even you. You might think I'm not a killer, but I am. I wouldn't hesitate for a second to kill you if you keep this up."

Paul wasn't the least bit intimidated. In fact, he had to force a grin into hiding. Kermit had reacted exactly the way he wanted him to. "Okay, Kermit. Just answer me one question. Why did you agree to visit Annie and me without any fight, not even a grumble?"

The question caught Kermit off guard. Paul saw a vein pulsing on Kermit's forehead. Kermit pushed the glasses back into place. A few seconds later, the pulsing vein eased and his pokerface snapped back into place. "I just wanted to see you and your family again. And I was curious about the new addition to your family. You've talked my ear off about the kid whenever we met."

Paul felt his gaze unnerve Kermit as he cut through Kermit's casual lie with ease. "Yeah, sure, tell that to someone who will believe it, not me, because that's bullshit and you know it. You came here because you knew the house was a safe hiding place. You knew you'd find solace and peace…."

"Now you sound like a preacher," Kermit interrupted Paul once more. "'Home sweet home' doesn't work with me. Is this your new form of brainwashing? I have to tell you, you're doing a lousy job."

"No, I want to make you understand that you can lie to others, but you can never lie to yourself. Deep inside yourself, in your heart, you know that it's about time to settle down."

Kermit theatrically clutched at his chest. "Ouch, that hurts, stabbed me right in the heart." He pretended to listen intently and then frowned. "Well, you're wrong, my heart tells me I still like my line of work."

Paul sighed exasperated. "That's not funny, Kermit. Life isn't a joke. I don't want to have to be the one to tell your mother, Marilyn and David that you died in the field, just because you've been too stubborn to grab the chance I'm offering you."

Kermit's mood darkened. He leaned forward, closing the distance to Paul. "Leave my family out of it. They have nothing to do with my decisions!"

Paul mimicked Kermit's demeanor, shifting into an icy stare. "I can't, Kermit. You have no idea how much they worry about you. When was the last time you talked to them? I mean, really talked to them? Don't you realize they worry constantly about you, afraid that someday you won't come back from a mission? Do you think it's easy for Marilyn to take care of a husband who has no backbone, a teenage brother, a toddler and a frail mother in the early stages of Alzheimer's while pregnant and without any backup? Marilyn doesn't need the money you keep sending to ease your conscience. She needs a strong shoulder for support. Your shoulder!"

Kermit's mouth dropped open. "What? Alzheimer's? Pregnant? What the hell happened?" he asked weakly.

Paul frowned, concerned as he watched the color drain out of his friend's face. "You didn't know?"

Kermit shook his head. "N…no. I talked to her a couple of months ago, right before the raid. She never mentioned it."

"She didn't know about it back then. She got the results of your mother's illness and her pregnancy three weeks ago. She needed someone to talk to, and since she couldn't reach you, she called me."

In a flash of rage, Kermit jumped up from his chair, but his weak knee gave way and he clutched at Paul's desk, his knuckles turning white. "And the thought you could tell me about it never crossed your mind?" he shouted. "You knew where I was, trapped in that damned backwater hospital! Why didn't you send me a message?"

Paul kept his cool. "Easy, Kermit. Actually, I did send you a message. Apparently, you never got it. I thought you would have straightened everything out with Marilyn in the meantime. I took the fact that you were willing to come here for recuperation as a sign that you would go to visit her later on when you were in better health."

Kermit scratched the back of his neck in frustration. "Damn, damn, damn! I had no idea. I have to go to her, now!"

Paul stood up and stretched out both hands. "Kermit, calm down please. You're not thinking straight. Before you go rushing off, take a few minutes to sort through things and then call Marilyn. Nothing is gained if you dive in without thinking about it first."

Paul put his hands on Kermit's shoulder and led him back to his chair. He applied gentle pressure and Kermit plopped down like a rag-doll on the cushioned seat, hiding his face in his hands.

"I'll come back in an hour, okay?"

"Yeah," Kermit murmured.

***

Exactly an hour later, Paul knocked on the door to his den, opened it and leaned against the door frame. Kermit, still talking into the receiver, waved him in. Paul closed the door and stepped into the room, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk. He was relieved to see that Kermit looked much calmer.

A few seconds later, Kermit hung up the phone and glanced at Paul over the rim of his glasses. Paul raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Kermit let out a long breath before speaking, "Thank God, Alzheimer's was a wrong diagnosis. They mixed up Mom's test results with another woman's. Marilyn is fine. She's just dealing with a nasty case of morning sickness. Hank lost his job, but has already found a new one. And David…well…I think he could use a stronger hand. Seems he started to hang around with some very unsavory youths lately. She's afraid they are a bad influence on him."

Paul sighed in relief. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad. Are you going to visit her?"

"Yeah, I'll see her next week. That'll give me time to gather some information about David's…friends."

"Why don't you give Marilyn another surprise by telling her that you've quit your job to start working at the 101st?"

Kermit laughed, his tension easing. "You never give up, Paul, do you?"

Paul joined in with Kermit's laughter. "Never."

He sobered. "Kermit, I mean business. Think about my offer. By taking the job, you can kill two birds with one stone. You're in from the cold and you're just an one-hour drive away from your family."

Kermit hesitated. "Don't try to pressure me into a decision, Paul. I'll take it personally. Maybe you're right - maybe it is time to accept a more…uh…stable position. On the other hand, I really don't know if I am ready yet. The excitement of being in the field can become addicting, as you well know."

"Oh, I'd say you'll find enough excitement in police work. I can't promise you a safe haven. It's a dangerous job, too. Look, I don't expect an immediate answer. All I want is for you to promise to think about my offer. Can you do that for me?"

Kermit shrugged and grinned. "You are like a terrier. Once you find a bone, you never let go of it. Just make sure you don't bite too hard, I've already suffered enough flesh wounds, but I promise I'll think hard about your offer. Deal?"

The mercenary stuck out his hand and the former mercenary grasped and shook it.

"Deal, buddy."

***

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