AN: Good evening fellow Blacklisters! This is the beginning of my one-shots about Blacklist hope you like them!
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit from the television show; The Blacklist.
A Kiss of Death
Episode 5, The Courier
Dechambeau tensed, her hand tightening around her glass.
"The Iranian is dead. And you're next. You know that."
A statement coated with too much truth to be a deception. Her eyes darted down, her resolve wavering at the fellow informant's words.
"I did nothing wrong." Her words sounded forced even to her. She stepped away from Reddington, mind darting away at his implications as she began to pace the room occupied by gunfight not too long ago.
Her eyes tracked her companion as he paced around the room.
"The world is hardly a fair place. That's why it needs people like me." She could feel his smirk from behind her. And as much as she tried to control the situation, all it felt like were grains slipping between her fingers.
"I'll get you out of the country and guarantee you safety. There's a private jet awaiting your arrival right now." The predator stopped before her, his presence unnoticeable unless shown. A stern expression adorned his face, almost as if a parent scolding a child.
"In exchange you give me the location of where you dropped the kid off last night." Ah, the catch. Nothing is for free. Certainly not in the world of the criminal.
It enraged her; that he was getting under her skin so quickly. But this was her business. Not his.
"He's worth twenty million." Her usually straight face contorted in rage.
"That twenty million is about to die. This is not a negotiation." His face was stoic and unnerved.
Dechambeau snarled.
"How dare you? I don't care who you are." Her attempts of masking her fear of him shone through, as hard as she tried not to let them show.
"And I'm not gonna let you swoop in at the last minute. And profit from a mistake made by somebody I hardly know!" Her voice was raised. No longer were they the succinct tones of an elegant businesswoman, but rather the sounds of an animal caught in a corner.
"Oh he knows you." She froze.
"He knows where you live."
"Where you work."
"Where you play."
He smirked, a perverted glint in his eye.
"He knows you better than I do and I know where that lovely little freckle is."
Damn him.
Damn him to hell.
Damn him and his certainty.
Damn him and Paris.
He paced forward until he was close. Far too close.
"I give you a day and a half before he finds you."
As he leaned in closer, she tensed.
"Try to be brave."
His lips were cold as they met her cheek. It was a kiss of certainty, he got what he wanted. What he came to get. The unwilling deal sealed with a kiss of death.
As he sauntered away, her eyes were cast down in defeat.
"Wait." Footsteps stopped.
She sighed, everything was far too troublesome.
"I will help you."