Live and Die Hard

11. McClanes.

Jack throws his CIA badge on McKay's desk.

"I'm done McKay. I quit."

"What? You can't do that! You're one of our best man here!" Chief McKay whimpers. 

"Your best man is tired of this job. I've been shot, hit, stabbed, threatened to death, punched and kicked enough for a lifetime. And I'm mandated by my wife for giving you her resignation as well."

He slams a handwritten letter under his nose.

"Your wife? You and Shade got married?" McKay ticks. He thinks he would count among the guests.

"She was supposed to marry me 5 years ago. I won't wait another minute before making her mine. She almost died, chief, I could have lost her and Anna. I have a family now, I can't jeopardize it for some motherfuckers."

He hands McKay a wedding invitation.

"Shade insisted to have you with us. Next month. No excuses accepted."

"Fuck. You almost made me cry McClane. My two whiz kids of the intelligence let me down and get married . What would happen to people of L.A. without you?"

"They will survive. Mostly because John McClane is going back to New York and we're moving with him." Jack can't help but smile.

New York. New life. New start.

Shade made it just to testify at trial and thanks to her proofs and bruises, Varela and his minions got a one way ticket to the maximum security wing of Santa Anna jail.

Anna.

Jack's heart stops at the reminding. He ran in the debris in fire, the safe house was nothing safe nor house. 

No roof, no walls, nothing left. Only dust of his so short happy life.

Anna. Where was she? 

Jack was not ready to face the death of his daughter, he had known her existence for less than a week, but had fallen in love instantly.

John was right she looked like him so much. He loved the sound of her laugh, the glitter in her blue eyes, the scent of her hair warmed by the sun. The softness of her skin, her fingers running through his stubble, her lips pecking his cheek.

But it was gone. She was gone.

He couldn't wander in the destroyed basement anymore, there were only jagged wooden pieces, fishing stuff and an old shredded couch. And a reversed bark; he planned to bring Anna for a boat ride that day.

Jack fell on ̂his knees. Shade had been shot but she was strong, with John taking care of her bleeding, she would surely make it.

But Anna. She was young and innocent, fragile and defenceless.

He was the one supposed to take care of her, protect her. He was the professional hired for her safety.

He failed. Miserabily. Unforgivably.

He slammed his palms on his face, scratching his skin with ferocity. 

He wished he was dead instead of her. His little princess. 

Images of her shiny face and laughs flashed before his eyes, he burst into tears. Cries. Useless cries. He could have saved her life if he had acted like a pro.

Prostrate, devastated he bent down and let his rage and regrets scream out.

His hand landed on something fluffy and soft. Anna's bunny. John bought her the stuffed animal during their trip to the safe house and Anna and Bunny became inseparable.