AN: I know, i know, four open stories is absolutely ridiculous. I haven't given up on them, just got caught up in some writer's block for the three prequels, but i swear, i haven't given up. CuriousWanderer sent me a new program that helped clear up my stories a lot. (Try Scrivener, it's friggin awesome). This one really is 89% completed, just working out an appropriate ending. Funny thing is that i have about nine stories working over, since the kids are going to be gone from X-Mas to New years, i plan on Binging on SVU (I don't watch it with the kids at home) for the prequels about Liv's GFs. I need Alex for something else entirely and I have a plan for Casey (and Amelia) that I want to finish. But i know i haven't posted dookey in a while and i didn't want to neglect you. Expect posts to Disclosure, Discovery, and Friend in Me when i get them out (Can't guarantee a time at the moment) and also a new story that's kind of a knock off of Tears of the Sun meets A-team. Its funny, wity and has no real plot that i can find. A throw back to old 80's movies of sad plots and big explosions.
Meanwhile, here she is, back by popular demand, Abbie Carmichael. I swear if this was a tv show or movie i'd have to pay Ms. Harmon double on this one.
As always, the characters in this story are the properties of their respective owners studios, blah blah blah, except for my originals which are figments of my poor (by that I mean broke) imagination. And to the fine actors that portray them, i tried my best to treat them with respect and keep them consistant with your portrayals. Rating is based on language as I DON'T WRITE SMUT, try word pad if that's what you like.
Oh and this story, and this series is dear to my heart but i DO want to know what you think so, PLEASE, take a minute to leave a review so i know where i screwed up or got it right. Thank's for playing along.
Oh, before i forget, CP, i got what you asked for. This one goes out to The Curious Wanderer, best wishes to your family my brother. And to Zarosguth, who has kind of disappeared recently. (hope you're okay man.)
Prologue
His knuckles bloody and aching, Patrick Doyle Jr. ascended the steps of his best kept secret, the small house in Southey where he lived. His second, Danny O'Toole pulled out his keys and opened the door for his boss.
"Make sure word gets out." Paddy grumbled. "Anyone who gives bad information on Maura's attacker trying to settle some old score will get the Southey treatment like Flynn did."
O'Toole nodded. "You got it boss."
As Paddy pulled off his coat and hung it up on the coat hook, the light next to the couch clicked on. O'Toole reached for his gun, but froze as one was shoved into the back of his head.
Jerking, Paddy saw a man sitting on his couch dressed in a handmade suit that was worth a fortune. The man had one leg crossed over his knee and his arms spread along the couch. He was about Paddy's age, with grey hair clipped close to his head and a receding hairline. His eyes held a certain sinister intent though he was smiling.
"Mr. Doyle," he said almost cheerfully. "I trust that your point was made with Gary Flynn? I honestly thought that I wouldn't get the chance to meet with you before my flight."
Paddy reached to his belt line for his gun. The click of another pistol caught his attention. A very tall black man held a gun to Donny while simultaneously pointing one at him.
"What do you say we conduct our little criminal parlay with some dignity?"
Paddy glared, but let go of his gun, barely. "Donny put it away."
His number two glanced at him and received a nod. O'Toole lowered his gun, but kept it in his hand.
"Dembe," the man nodded. "Ask Mr. O'Toole for his gun since he doesn't seem to know what Parlay means."
The black man took the pistol and set it on a table. Only then did he put away his guns.
"I apologize for the way we're meeting for the first time, but in your business I'm sure you understand about taking precautions." He stood up and held out his hand. "My name is Red Reddington."
Though he didn't trust a word he said, Paddy had heard the name before. He carefully shook his hand and moved to his recliner.
"Number four on the FBI's most wanted list." Paddy gave a lopsided grin. "I should turn you in."
Red smiled again. "No doubt your daughter-in-law would get a kick out of it."
At the mention of her, Paddy realized that this was a very dangerous man.
"Relax Patrick, may I call you Patrick?"
"The name is Paddy." He said firmly.
Red smirked again. "How very Irish of you. Very well, Paddy."
He brushed his knee and again stretched his arms over the back of the couch. "I have to say that I am truly amazed at how you've adapted over the last thirty years. Most of the old crime organizations have gone into finance, insider trading, influencing the stock market, but good old fashion racketeering and extortion." He shook himself in mock delight. "Truly the Irish are the original hard workers."
Paddy snorted. "And someone like you came down here for this? Just to admire my perfectly legal hobbies."
Laughing Red tipped his head back, "Oh no, I would never waste your time or mine with something so trivial. I was merely being polite."
Red sat up and cupped his hands together. "As a matter of fact, I came all the way to Boston for," he raised his right hand and placing his thumb against his index finger with his others spread slightly, "a very specific reason."
"And what's that?"
"Ordinarily, I would send someone like Dembe to ask... or pressure, depending on your response, for what I need. But the circumstances that I am dealing with as well as yours with the attack on your daughter last Christmas, I felt that it would be best to come and see you in person."
Again Paddy stiffened.
Red's voice lowered into a serious tone, "Daughters are unspeakably precious and in the world we live in we are forced to take their protection seriously. For example, I spend millions of dollars every year to ensure the safety of my daughter. Not that she appreciates or even knows that I do. Honestly at this point it should be a line item on my taxes. That is if I paid taxes."
He gave a light chuckle before continuing. "As a father in an unfortunate line of work, I understand the deep need for vengeance on the animal that ordered the hit on your daughter. Had it been mine, no soul in heaven or on earth could stop me from making that man pay."
Paddy nodded. "I will find him."
"Of that I have no doubt." Red's eyes focused solely on Paddy's. "However, I am here to ask you to do something that I don't have a right to ask. Your daughter-in-law is involved in an investigation outside of normal means and I need that investigation to remain unhindered for the moment."
"I have no say in Jane's business." Paddy leaned back, "It's a line I can't cross with her or she'll put me away."
"Understandable. However, the man you are pursuing for injuring your daughter has some very interesting connections to some rather powerful people. Ties that I need to reveal for my own business. Ties that Detective Rizzoli and Detective Beckett will undoubtedly shake loose for a man looking in the right place. To that end I am offering you a one time deal."
"There is no deal that will stop me from finding him."
"Nor should it." Red leaned back against the couch. "I'm not asking you to let it go, I'm asking you to leave it alone temporarily and in exchange for your patience, I will give you his name and the name of the man he works for. That's two for a little patience."
"You know who he is?" Paddy asked incredulously.
"I do, but he is a puppet for someone else."
Paddy leaned onto his elbow, "You're going to have to do better than that."
Red nodded, "I once spent three days in Scotland with a gentleman who had the most interesting name, Red Reading. Unfortunately, at the time I was looking over my shoulder for Scotland Yard's Constables. So I paid him several thousand dollars to run his mule over his field wearing my coat. Naturally the Constables caught up with him as I was making my escape and he spent a few days in their care, but the interesting thing was that a few days later, Scotland Yard reported the appearance of Raymond Reddington as a hoax to INTERPOL."
"I'm sure there's a point to be found here," Paddy said impatiently.
"The people I deal with get a kick out of someone using their name. If I had a nickel for everyone who called himself a Kingmaker, I'd be... well, richer than I already am. And really smart people, like the Kingmaker, love it when others use their name. Especially when they get caught because it attracts attention away from them. I sincerely doubt that your Kingmaker and mine are the same, but in the interests of being thorough, I need to be sure. If it is him, I will hand deliver his pawn to you for your satisfaction."
"And if it's not him?"
Red smiled. "Your man couldn't wipe his ass without checking with his boss. If it's not my Kingmaker, I'll give you both of them and tell you to have fun."
"And if I find out who he is before you tell me?" Paddy leveled a cold look.
"Then I ask you to remember that he had to get approval. He didn't act alone and I'm your only chance to get him.
Red picked up his hat from the table and placed it on his head. "Doyle, I know you don't know me from Adam, but think about who you are dealing with. I've bought and sold governments, arranged assassinations on the untouchable, and I know the most intimate secrets of the most disreputable criminals on the world. They don't call me the Concierge of Crime because of these sharp suits. Take my deal, get your revenge. Withdraw the reward you put out for the name and I will call you when I have what I need."
He left Paddy and his man to think as Dembe followed him out to the car.
"I'll call the boys." Donny said and dug for his phone. "Reddington will never leave Boston."
"Don't." Paddy glared. "Let Reddington go."
"Paddy," O'Toole protested.
"Raymond Reddington didn't get where he is by being stupid." The crime boss stood up. "And if someone else is at all responsible, I want them too.
"So you're going to pull the reward?"
"Of course not." He said. "Reddington knows I won't just back down. But now I know that he has something in this as well and I doubt it has anything to do with this so called 'kingmaker'. Reddington doesn't get into minor affairs so whoever attacked Maura is into something a whole lot bigger than Boston. When are they due back?"
"End of the week." Donny said. "Who takes a honeymoon in Italy anyway?"
Paddy chuckled. Donny was clueless when it came to women.
"The Kingmaker is dead." Dembe said in his deep African accent.
"Yes, but Doyle doesn't know that." He replied as he sat down in the back seat of the Mercedes.
"Then why the big story?"
"Obviously I'm not interested in Bracken or his boss. It's the Raven I want to know about. Who is she and where did she come from? I can't begin to tell you how unnerving it is to find out that their is a new player in the market that I know absolutely nothing about. Especially considering that she dropped over twenty bodies in New York City without a single trace of evidence leading back to her. Talent like that needs to be watched carefully."
Dembe nodded as he sat down in the driver's seat and started the car. Before he could drive away his phone rang. Dembe pulled it out and smiled slightly at the number, "It's Agent Keen." he said and answered it.
Before he could even say a word an angry woman's voice echoed loudly from the speaker, "Put him on, Dembe!"
Chapter 1
Special Agent Seeley Booth sat two houses down outside of a modest, but comfortable home outside of Alexandria, not far from his own home in Fairfax. He sat in his standard FBI issued SUV flipping through the file in front of him as he contemplated how to get the attorney he had come to see on board with the case. She was the only one in Washington that the people who put him on this case trusted to prosecute. He shook his head and turned to the back page where there was a dossier of the woman he was waiting for. Her list of cases was impressive and she had a very good 20 year span of convictions. Booth reconsidered how much to include on this first meeting.
Another car came up Primrose and he watched it as it passed him and pulled into another driveway. Not the one he was looking for, but he watched it all the same. A plump woman about five feet tall climbed her girth out of the car and ambled into the house in a leisurely fashion.
He turned back to the dossier and resumed scanning. As he discreetly backgrounded the United States Attorney, his biggest concern had been the husband. He had a good background, but nothing startling and nothing overly redeeming either. Seven years with US Customs before joining up with the Department of Homeland Security when it was created in 2002. Since then he climbed the ladder at a steady pace that Booth thought was just a little too steady. John Griffin looked like a stand up All-American Fed right down to his profile photo but at some point he should have either been reprimanded or if he was that good, jumped ahead of the curve at least once.
John Griffin was as embarrassingly normal as it got and that's what bothered Booth. His instincts kept telling him that there was something wrong with Griffin's file. Everyone involved in this case had either been killed or suffered a near fatal attack because the subject in his investigation would do anything to preserve his position. That and with ramifications all over Washington on this case he was being very careful to the point where he hadn't even told his wife what was going on lest he put her or their children in danger. It was the same reason he regretted having to overcome with the lawyer he waited for, she had three. But the detectives who started this swore to him that if they needed, they'd be here, heavily armed if need be.
He watched as the burgundy metallic flake Chevy Malibu turned on to Primrose and he identified it quickly as the car he had been waiting for. He started up his SUV and stuffed the file between the seats before he placed the truck in drive. He caught sight of her clearly as she pulled into her driveway. A straight length of jet black hair stretched down to beneath her shoulders as she got out of the car. He let go of the break and casually pulled into the driveway next to her. She turned her head sharply and grimaced, not recognizing his vehicle. As he parked and rolled down the passenger window, her features stunned him, they were right, she looked almost exactly like the Boston born cop.
"AUSA Griffin." He said politely.
She frowned as she looked inside. "Do I know you?"
He flashed his badge, "I'm Seeley Booth with the FBI. Can I have a few moments of your time, please?"
She shook her head and put a hand on her hip, her voice was raspy with a slight Texas drawl to it, "I've got my husband coming home and I've also got three kids getting off the bus in a half hour. I don't discuss business out of the office so I suggest you make an appointment at the US Attorney's Office and one of us will get back to you."
She popped the trunk and pulled out a grocery bag.
Booth shut the car off so he could speak, "I know that, ma'am, but the thing is, you came highly recommended by a mutual acquaintance. I only need two minutes."
She shut the trunk and leaned down to look at him again, "Look Special Agent whoever-you-are. I really don't have time for this and quite frankly, if you're not willing to go to the OUSA than I probably don't want any part of what you have going on."
"I'll get there eventually, but right now I need to know that I have a case."
She snorted, "If you don't know that than you're in the wrong line of work, Bucko."
He looked deep into her dark eyes, "Please, it's for two friends of mine and a third who says that you are the only one she'd ever trust with this. She said that you owe her."
"I don't owe anyone anything." She turned to leave, but threw over her shoulder, "And I'm very proud of that fact."
Booth opened his door and stuck his head out. "She said Abbie Carmichael still owes her for that white dress."
Abbie stopped at her maiden name and turned sharply. "What white dress?"
"New York City, New Year's Eve, 2001." He smiled slightly, "She said you spilled a glass of very nice red wine on Alex's very white dress because she hurt your friend's feelings that night. She said that if you give me two minutes of your time, she'll call it even."
Abbie stared at him, not many knew about that night fourteen years ago and in truth had he not mentioned the specific New Year's party, she wouldn't have remembered. And only one other knew for certain that she had deliberately dumped that wine onto Alex's dress.
Booth held a finger to his mouth, "No names. Two minutes and then if you want I'll drive away and you can forget I was ever here."
She sighed as she sat the grocery bag on the roof of her car. "Two minutes, Booth."
He stepped back into the SUV and gestured at the door. She climbed in and he rolled the window up.
Checking her watch she nodded, "Two minutes, go."
He pulled the file out. "I have a case I'm investigating off the book for now. Eventually, I plan on going at this guy, but I need to have it all set up before I can."
She took the file and flipped it open and frowned at all the black marks on it. "A little paranoid. Last time i saw this kind of redaction was from the CIA"
"You call it paranoia. I call it keeping a secret in a town where they tend to come out." He pointed at two blacked out names, "This first came about twenty years ago where a female lawyer was killed to conceal the truth about a patsy who had been framed. Three cops who couldn't prosecute a hand full of Mob bosses started kidnapping them for ransom. Figures are sketchy, but we're talking hundreds of thousands before the nineties. The lawyer uncovered dirt that would have released the patsy, but they killed the fall guy to keep the secret, then killed her because she knew too much.
"Five years later her only child becomes a homicide detective and accidentally uncovers something on that murder. She almost dies due to it and her Unit Commander is one of the three dirty cops, brought her into homicide to keep her from digging too deep since this is all being done under one man's ambitions. Two years ago, the Captain writes a huge confession before facing off with a strike team hired to hide the evidence and kill the detective. He gave his life to keep her safe. At his funeral, she's shot in the chest and the gunman got away.
"Not even a year later she makes Sergeant and her best friend joins her in Homicide from another city. A few months after that, a contract killer is sent to take them both out in a warehouse. The partner puts one through his head to save her sergeant.
"Another few weeks go by and another killer is sent to take out the partner and her girlfriend who is a renowned Medical Examiner turned teacher at a med school. Having no choice she was forced to kill him too. The sergeant, her boyfriend and his nineteen year old daughter, the partner and her girlfriend are again attacked in the partner's hometown. It was the teenager who took him out and was traumatized by the event.
"After that, they said that they cut a deal with the bad guy to stop the attacks, I didn't ask the details because I probably don't want to know. Our bad guy said that if they drop this case he'll leave them alone. Since then it has been quiet, but with the attempt on both of them and their families, they are convinced that it's only a matter of time before he comes after them again. They turned the case and all of its materials over to me and I've uncovered a lot of alarming things."
She stared at him, "It sounds like a bad Novellas episode."
"Yeah well the reality sucks because I just got this guy's financials back and there is a seedy trail that looks like it leads back to a Colombian Drug cartel, but I just got it third person and I haven't had time to re-chase the money."
"So, who is this guy and if you have all of this why haven't you gone after him?"
He sighed as he stared out the windshield "Because the suspect is a sitting U.S. Senator. And I really need more than conspiracy to commit murder to go after him for."
She jerked in her seat, "Are you friggin' crazy. You want to go after a sitting U.S. senator on this bullshit?"
He looked at her then and he could definitely see a resemblance there, "No, that's why I need your help. I got all of this from these two detectives and your friend who has been keeping them objective plus I've put more together on my own. They put me on this because they believe in what I do as much as they do in their own work. They're not your typical cops and I'm not your typical Fed. They're good people and I don't want anything to happen to them. And since you met the partners in New York about two months ago, I'd hoped that putting a face to them would help."
She crinkled her nose at him, "Do you have any idea how many people I meet in a day? I couldn't count them any better than you could. And that friend you mention, i haven't seen her in eight years or so."
He smiled, "One of the partners said you wouldn't forget her any more than she could possibly forget you."
"Really? You got a picture of her or something?" She asked, not really buying it.
"Nope, but she told me to ask you one question." he said with a sharp knowing grin on his face. "You'll know who I'm talking about."
Abbie didn't particularly like the look. "What's the question?"
He smiled again, "She says that ever since she met you, she can't look into a mirror without seeing you staring back at her. She wanted me to ask if that ever happens to you, too."
Abbie's mouth fell open as the image of tangled wavy black curls framing her own face swam in her mind. She was about to respond when a loud knock sounded against the window. She spun to find her husband standing outside the SUV and not terribly happy.
Booth hit the window lock out and said, "He can't know anything about this for both of your sakes." He released the lock.
She rolled down the window with a smile on her face, "Hi, hubby." She leaned out the window and kissed him. It was one of those good married kisses, certainly not what he had seen come from either of the detectives.
"Hey baby, who's this?" He asked as he eyed the good looking guy in the suit.
She waved at Seeley. "He's FBI. He wanted a quick consult on a case he's working and didn't catch me before I left the office."
He frowned, "Honey, we agreed to leave our work at the office, remember?"
"Yeah, but he's a new referral so he didn't know that and I am explaining it to him." She sighed at his irritation, "Just give me five minutes and I'll be right in."
He nodded, "Okay baby doll." He took the bag off the roof of her car and carried it inside. Once inside, Booth watched as the blind started shifting slightly a few seconds later.
Abbie rolled up the window and pulled open the file again. "Okay, so I don't get into yet another fight with my husband over work. You're going to have to leave now." She pulled a blackberry out of her pocket and slipped the stylus out of the top. She flipped open her calendar and paged through the digital notepad. "I've got three hours free on Thursday starting at one thirty. Bring what you have to my office. I'm not going to say that I'll prosecute but I can at least go over your case and show you where the holes are. It's going to have to be one hell of a case to go after a senator."
He shook his head, "The time works. but not the place."
She looked at him. "Then what do you suggest, some back alley?"
Booth smiled mischievously again, "How about a nice friendly atmosphere with lots of people. The Jeffersonian Museum has an excellent Ancient Egyptian display set up. Meet me in front of Imhotep at two on Thursday."
She stared at him in disbelief, "Ancient Egyptian display, that's where you want to meetup to talk about a potentially dangerous case like this."
He tipped his head, "No place safer in all of Washington. Just trust me."
She shook her head, "Trust is a good idea for other people, Agent Booth. No attorney worth her weight would trust you on this."
He smiled and tipped a finger at her "Now you're thinking."
She set the file down and climbed out. She was about to shut the door when she hesitated. She leaned down slightly to catch his eye, "Agent Booth?"
He looked up at her.
"Next time you see your friend, tell her that I see her every morning, right before I put on my makeup."
He nodded and smiled a lopsided grin, "I'll tell her. Have a nice day Mrs. Griffin."
She shut the door and headed into the house without looking back. As he backed out he caught sight of the husband eyeing him. Booth waved and hit the gas gently.
"So who was that?" John Griffin asked as he turned on the coffee pot. "He's not one of your regulars."
"A new referral." She said casually as she started to put away the groceries she'd bought. "Why they can never come to the office first is beyond me."
"So you did explain that you don't work from home?"
Abbie rolled her eyes, "Yes John. That is exactly what I was explaining to him."
He nodded and turned back to pour himself a cup. "So what's his name? What division does he work?"
Placing a stack of hard taco shells in the pantry, she opened her mouth to tell him, but Booth's words rang in her head.
They're good people and I don't want anything to happen to them.
An image of that woman who looks so much like her ran through her head, the scars on her hands and neck, the life she must have lead to be so damaged.
"I wasn't paying that much attention." She said.
"Say what?" He asked looking over his shoulder.
"I was too busy telling him that he had to come to my office." She said nonchalantly.
He set the cup down, "A guy comes to our home and you don't ask any questions like who the hell are you?"
Abbie shrugged at him, "He said he was FBI, showed me his badge and I shooed him away until he comes to my office. Jesus, John. I can't control the entire judicial system."
"No, but you don't mind getting into his car in our fucking driveway!"
His angry shouts brought her full attention on him. He was angry yes, but he was also jealous.
"What exactly are you trying to imply here John?" She barked, "That I'm screwing around on you?"
He glared red at her.
"Because if I'm not mistaken, I'm not the one who got caught with my tongue in Kim Greylek's ear and my hand up her skirt. But, I do know someone else in this house who did do that."
John grabbed her roughly by her arm, "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
Abbie jerked her arm free, "I'll buy ocean front property in Dallas first. You're lucky I didn't file for divorce that night. She's lucky I didn't hog tie and horse whip the bitch."
"It was a mistake!" He shouted in her face.
"No!" She rebutted right to his nose, "A mistake is forgetting to take out the trash, a mistake is forgetting to lock the front door. Sliding your hand between a woman's thighs in a bar while you stick your tongue in her ear is fucking cheating!"
She could see the vein pulsing as it protruded from his forehead.
He wanted to hit her, but he knew better. His wife had a Texas temper that was hard to reach, but once you did, look out. And if that wasn't enough, she was a much better shot than he was.
"I should have fucked her hard that night." he growled in her face, "At least then you'd have a reason for throwing it in my face."
Abbie's eyes hardened. "Get out! Right now!"
John grabbed his keys off the counter and stormed out. The last she heard from him that night was the tires on his car squealing out of the driveway.