As he rifled through a stack of papers which he had tucked away in a locked drawer in his office, he was feeling pretty impressed with his clever scheme. He took a moment to walk over to the large picture window facing out over the grounds of Sanders Construction. The machinery was lined up in rows, some of it on the back of flat-bed trucks, and it glistened in the morning sun. By the end of the day the equipment would be covered in dust and dirt but Derek's attention to detail required that the workmen wash down each and every piece of machinery at the end of each workday. Derek thought it presented a more professional image of the company. To Michael, that seemed a bit silly. But for now, he would do it Derek's way. Not for long though, he thought.

His initial plan had been to have Andie eliminated and set Derek up to take the fall. With Andie out of the picture, and Derek tucked safely away in prison for life, Michael would be free to take over the company. But recent events had caused him to reevaluate his strategy. Andie had proved much more difficult to eliminate than he had anticipated and now he was beginning to see that her death wasn't absolutely essential for the plan. All he really needed was a way to get his hands on the cash reserves of the company. He needed the money--and fast. If he didn't make his move now, it might be too late. He shuttered at the thought. Even if Andie remained alive, Derek was still going to be put away for quite some time for the attempts on her life. And Michael knew that Derek's instructions for the company, in the event of his inability to run it, were for Michael to take full control. Sure, Andie could still be an employee of the company if she wished, and she would receive a share of the profits, but she was manageable. And if she became unmanageable at some point he could take care of it then. He laughed out loud as he remembered the scene at the Harts home--Andie leaning on him for comfort and telling the Harts what a great guy he was. She had always looked up to him and trusted him, a fact that he knew he would be able to exploit in the coming months.

Eliminating Andie would have been a bonus. Ever since that day six months ago when he stopped to visit his dying Aunt Kathryn in the hospital, he had hated Andie with an intensity that scared even himself. To say he had been surprised by what he had learned that day would be a gross understatement. He had arrived, flowers in hand, to see his Aunt for what would be his obligatory last visit and when he reached her room in the cancer wing, the door was ajar and he could hear voices speaking softly in hushed sounds. He had quickly recognized the voices of his cousin and Aunt, and something about the tone of their voices had caused him to pause there and listen intently. When his Aunt had revealed to Andie that Derek wasn't her real father, Michael was nearly as shocked as his cousin. He hadn't stuck around to hear any more, he needed to process the information he had just obtained. It hadn't taken him long to realize that there had to be some way for him to use it to his own advantage. He never told a soul what he had learned that day. His anger with Andie had grown each and every day since. It was he who was Derek's protege, the one who had worked beside him everyday and whom Derek had raised as his own son. And yet it was Andie who was the soul heir in Derek's will, a fact that Michael had learned one day when snooping through the wall safe in Derek's home office. She didn't deserve to inherit the business, she wasn't even his daughter. After all of Michael's hard work, Andie would come out the winner in the end. It just wasn't fair. Why would Derek do this to him? Why would he leave all of the fruits of a lifetime of labor to his wife's bastard child?

So, when a few weeks later he found himself in a rather precarious situation, and badly in need of cash, he realized that he could combine his lusts for money and revenge into one master plan. His current situation required him to move quickly and decisively. Even now it caused an evil smile to cross his lips as he walked away from the window and returned to the desk. Maybe Andie would still be alive, and Derek's beneficiary, but if Michael gained control of the company he could still deplete it of all cash reserves long before Andie would inherit. He had been skimming from the profits for the last six months, taking advantage of Derek's lack of attention to the business, but with Derek in jail he could raid the company completely. Derek was still fairly young and in good health, he would survive for quite some time in prison, barring some unforeseen accident. This would give Michael many years of skimming off the company. By the time Derek died, leaving everything to Andie, Michael wouldn't even need the company, which was fortunate as it would be near bankruptcy. And now that Andie wasn't working for the company, she wouldn't have access to all of the daily records. He could find someone who could take care of that for him. All she would see would be the quarterly reports which, of course, would be misleading. It was all falling into place, thanks to the brilliant detective work of the Harts and the local police who were convinced that Derek was a danger to Andie. He couldn't have scripted it more perfectly.

He found the file that he had been searching for and just as he was about to leave the office to plant the final evidence that would no doubt convict Derek, he heard someone coming down the hallway. He placed the file back into the top drawer and closed it quickly.

Tony DiMarco sauntered down the long and dimly lit corridor leading to Michael Sanders office. He knew that Michael would be expecting him but this time he had the upper hand. For years he had done Michael's dirty work and for what? What had he ever gotten in return? The money Michael had paid him had paled in comparison to the amounts of cash that had flowed into Michael's bank account as a result of his activities. And after all of his blind loyalty to Michael, his "friend" had hung him out to dry and left him to rot in a jail cell.

Tony knew that Michael was at the office, as he had seen his car parked in the front of the building. It was the only car in the lot so he knew he would be able to confront his old friend without interruption. He knocked loudly on the door, which was partly ajar, before pushing it open and coming face to face with Michael, who was sitting at his desk, pretending to be engrossed in work.

Though he had been expecting him, he was still struck with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach which he identified as fear. Though the gun in his top drawer, just inches away from where his hand lay, added a bit of security, he still knew he couldn't let his guard down around Tony. Michael knew first hand what Tony was capable of and that even without advance warning of the ambush Michael had planned that he could be a formidable rival. Michael rose from the desk slowly, leaving his right hand on the desk as a matter of insurance.

"Hello Tony. I wondered when I might be seeing you. I must have just missed you at the jail last night. I stopped by to pay your bail but I was told you had already been released." He shifted uncomfortably before continuing. "I guess one of those rich relatives must have come through for you, eh? I would have been there sooner but I didn't want to arouse any suspicion or draw attention to the relationship between us. You understand..."

"Save it, Michael." Tony's words were harsh and angry, but it was the look in his eyes that caused Michael's legs to tremble slightly. "Tell it to someone who doesn't know you. You would have left me there to rot forever....or until you needed me to do some more of your dirty work. That's the way it has always been with us--I do the dirty work and you reap the benefits. And who pays the price, Michael? Me, that's who!" He walked further into the office, taking a seat in the large tan leather chair adjacent to Michael's desk and sliding it forward till his forearms rested on the desk.

"As I recall, Tony, you have been well compensated for your activities..."

"Oh, like the measly pay off you gave me for offing your parents? You collected what? Hundreds of thousands? A million maybe? And what did I get? Ten thousand lousy dollars! I took all the risk and you got the payoff."

"You seem to have a selective memory, Tony. Though our original agreement was for ten thousand, I seem to remember being...uh...coerced, you might say... into making a few additional payments to keep your mouth shut! And still, you had to shoot off your mouth to some of your drinking buddies, nearly blowing the whole thing! You're lucky I paid you at all!"

"I'm the lucky one? You were the one who needed the cash from their insurance policy and I'm the one who saved your life! And now you think you can use me again to knock off your cousin? What's in this for you, Michael?"

Michael leaned his head back and laughed, a nervous laugh which echoed through the quiet office. "My cousin? What a joke! Andie is nothing to me, or to Derek either, for that matter. For years I have sucked up to my Uncle Derek, acting like I was so interested in the business, and making myself the son he had always wanted and she will be the one to inherit his money? How's that for irony?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Michael? She is his daughter, of course he would leave it to her! Even you can't be crazy enough to think that he would leave his own daughter out in the cold." Tony wasn't terribly interested in Michael's family disputes, or in the workings of his twisted mind. He was, however, curious about what Andie had done to stir such a rage in Michael. He had to secretly admire someone who could get Michael so unnerved. Whatever she had done, it must have been good, he thought to himself and smirked.

"But that's just it......she isn't his daughter! She is just some illegitimate brat of his wife's who Derek was stupid enough to raise as his own. She isn't his blood, I am!" The veins in the sides of his forehead bulged as his face grew redder and sweaty. His composure was quickly fading, as he reached for a handkerchief in his suit pocket and dabbed away a bead of sweat.

"So that's why you paid me to kill her, huh? You're a piece of work, Michael." Tony found himself secretly amused by Michael's plight, he had waited for years for Michael to be undone.

"You shouldn't have received a dime from me! Every opportunity you had to take her out you botched the job. I could have hired any incompetent and had the same result! And you had the nerve to up the price after screwing up so badly. I only hired you to do it because I felt bad for you and thought you needed a break after spending time in prison. I thought maybe you would have learned something there."

"Yeah, I learned who my friends are. And you, Michael, are not one of them." He glared at Michael intimidatingly, enjoying the look of fear that it aroused in him. "But friends are overrated. What I need from you now, Michael, is some cash......cold hard cash......and lots of it. Here's the deal, you hook me up with one-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, enough for me to get the hell out of here and start over, and you'll never see me again. Do we have a deal?"

Michael paused, thinking over the deal that Tony was proposing. He had expected Tony to ask for a much larger sum, perhaps it would be easier to pay him off than to kill him. He hadn't liked the idea of getting his hands dirty and he could always eliminate him later if he became a problem. Or, better yet, he could find some other thug to take care of it for him. And Andie too, if needed.

"And was assurances do I have that you will not continue to blackmail me every time your money runs out? It's not like you haven't done that to me in the past. How do I know that you're really going to disappear this time?"

DiMarco chuckled, enjoying the fact that he had his old friend at his mercy. He smiled, an evil smile that caused his cheeks to lift in such a way that it accentuated the scar on his face that made him look so barbarous. "I guess you're just going to have to trust me." He snickered again.

"Fine," Michael said, uneasily. "But getting together that kind of money is going to take some time..."

Just then, the door which connected Michael's office to the adjoining office of Derek opened quickly, banging loudly as it smashed into the wall behind it. Jonathan Hart walked confidently into the room, carrying a gun, followed by Jennifer and Andie.

"I'm afraid you're both going to have plenty of time to work out this transaction," Jonathan said confidently. "Perhaps we can pull some strings and get the two of you connecting cells." He took several more steps toward the duo, with the rest of his group staying closer to the door. Andie held tightly to Jennifer's arm, out of fear that she might crumble if she let go.

As Jonathan shifted his glance to meet DiMarco's, Michael quickly opened the desk drawer which contained his gun and drew his weapon on Jonathan. Jennifer gasped in fear, wondering if this time they had gotten in over their heads.

"I think this evens things up a bit, don't you, Tony?" Michael waved the gun at Jonathan before focusing on Jennifer as his target. He then looked to DiMarco hoping that this one last time they could join forces to get themselves out of a jam.

"Well, well, look who wants my help again?" Tony replied, knowing that he had no choice in this situation. If Michael went down, he would surely take him with him. He reached his hand out toward his partner and ordered him to hand over the gun. "Give me that thing, you don't know what you're doing. You're going to get us both killed." He sighed, disgustedly, wondering why he let himself get involved in these things. He should have run last night while he could and stayed away from Michael Sanders forever. His association with him had caused him nothing but trouble.

Michael obliged, however unwillingly, as he knew that Tony could better handle himself, and a gun, in this situation. Michael's experience with firearms had been limited to some target practice he had done with Tony during their college years. Tony had always been fascinated by weapons, his current occupation had been a natural progression. The knowledge that Tony could now turn on him, as well as the others, made him nervous but he didn't see any other chance for them to escape this one.

"Ok, Mr. Hart," Tony said forcefully, "This is what's going to happen now. Michael and I are going to leave now. And no one is going to try to stop us. Do you understand?" He walked slowly toward the door, keeping the gun positioned on Jonathan, and motioned for Michael to follow him. Before complying, Michael reached into his desk and removed some papers from a file, tucking them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You're not going anywhere," Jonathan said forcefully, a look of determination in his usually calm blue eyes.

"I think I might be able to change your mind, Mr. Hart, " Tony said, lunging forward and wrapping his arm tightly around Jennifer's neck from behind with enough force to make her struggle for air. She reached up, trying to loosen his grip with her hands, which only agitated him. "Don't try anything funny, Mrs. Hart. I'd get great pleasure out of snapping that beautiful neck of yours."

Jennifer looked at Jonathan pleadingly, a fear in her eyes that pained his soul. The only thing that calmed her at all was the knowledge that her husband would move heaven and earth to save her.

"Just let Jennifer go," Jonathan demanded of his wife's captor, "And you can take me as your insurance. I can get you plenty of money to go wherever you want and I'll even arrange transportation for you."

"Oh, I think you'll do that anyway, Mr. Hart," Tony said, glancing down at Jennifer's scared expression. "You wouldn't want any harm to come to your lovely wife, would you? Now, give your gun to Michael and we'll be on our way. If we need your assistance to leave the country, we'll be sure to call."

Jonathan lowered his gun and reluctantly handed it over to Michael, who grasped it firmly, pointed it back at Jonathan, and then looked to Tony for direction.

The duo, with Jennifer as their hostage, quickly exited the door, instructing Jonathan and Andie that if they made any motion to follow or to contact the police that Jennifer would face a painful demise. As the sound of their footsteps dashing down the stairs to the main exit faded into the distance, Jonathan disregarded their advice and raced after them, with Andie following closely behind.

As Michael and Tony reached the lobby area, their guns still pointed at Jennifer, they paused for a brief second to plan their next move. They hadn't planned for this, and had no escape route mapped out. In that instant, Lieutenant Grey burst through the front doors, his weapon trained on Jennifer's captors.

"LAPD," Lieutenant Grey shouted, his voice full of authority, ordering them to put their guns down immediately.

Out of breath, Jonathan and Andie reached the bottom of the stairs in record time.

"Stay here, Andie," Jonathan ordered, before pushing through the door.

Jonathan's sudden entrance caught everyone off guard, startling Tony and Michael enough for Jennifer to run from them and duck behind the unoccupied receptionist's desk a few feet away. Seeing that his wife was safe, at least for the moment, Jonathan made his next move.

Chaos broke out as Jonathan dove toward Michael, knocking him to the ground and dislodging his gun which slid across the floor, coming to rest against a potted plant in the far corner of the room. Tony moved for the door, disregarding Lieutenant Grey's command to drop his gun and put his hands in the air. As Tony's hand reached to push the glass door and make his escape, a shot rang out and he slowly dropped to the ground clutching his right thigh, a bright red stain already becoming visible on his jeans.

"Perhaps you'll listen to me now," Lieutenant Grey barked at him, reaching for his handcuffs, dangling on a belt loop under his suit coat.

Jonathan and Michael continued to struggle, exchanging punches and rolling around on the floor, arms and legs flailing as they wrestled for control. Just then, Michael was able to land an undefended punch on Jonathan's jaw, stunning him just enough for Michael to break free and make a run for the door. As Lieutenant Grey handcuffed Tony, Michael rushed past them, pressed on the door with the full force of his body, and ran out into the parking lot in the direction of his car.

Jonathan rose from the floor instantly, pausing only briefly to shake his head as if he were shaking off the impact of Michael's attack, and ran out the door in pursuit.

Michael was halfway to his car by the time Jonathan emerged through the doorway into the hot morning air. Jonathan began chasing Michael across the pavement, finally catching up to him as Michael was attempting to close the door of his red Corvette and start the ignition. Jonathan's hand caught the door, which was still partially open, and then grabbed Michael by his tie, pulling him out of the car and pushing him up against it forcefully.

"You're not going anywhere," Jonathan said, cocking his fist and landing a punch firmly on the side of Michael's face. "That one was for Andie," he finished, as Michael dropped to the ground, slumped against his car. A smile of satisfaction crossed Jonathan's face as Michael glared at him from the blacktop.

Sirens grew closer as the backup cars that Lieutenant had waiting just down the street flew into the parking lot of Sanders Construction. As Lieutenant Grey led Tony from the building in restraints to a waiting police cruiser, Jennifer and Andie scrambled through the front doors and sped across the parking lot to where Jonathan stood over Michael. Jennifer rushed into Jonathan's waiting arms, holding him closely.

"Are you okay, darling?" she asked, as she hadn't seen the confrontation between the two men. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"I'm just fine, darling," he replied, kissing her on the cheek.

Andie stared at the scene from a few yards back, as the cousin she had trusted for a lifetime was taken into custody by several policemen, one of whom was reading him his rights. "It's over," she said sadly, to no one in particular, "it's finally over."