To Build a Revolution
Summary: Remi starts to put pieces back together.

It had been almost three weeks and she was done taking it slowly and playing the dutiful wife who spent hours by her sick husband's bedside holding his hand.

Gathering intel from the FBI had only gotten her so far. It was time to start putting things back into motion with whatever was left at her disposal. There was no way she could disappear and start anew, so she would have to go about this the way it was planned all along– using the FBI and her position within the team.

She could do this– not that she had much of a choice– but still, she could easily do this.

Maybe not easily, with so many odds stacked against her, but she'd seen worse odds.

She'd requested to see Shepherd, but the response had come in refusing it– not for any real reasons beyond Reade and Patterson reminding her of the last time and suggesting it was not a great idea in her condition. Of course, she did not remember the last time, but she'd said nothing. And she chose for the time being not to press the matter– wouldn't want to raise any suspicions.

Shepherd was being held at a CIA blacksite and the man charged with interrogating was Tom Carter's replacement; Jake Keaton.

Keaton. Jane remembered Shepherd talking about him when they were still laying out his plan. Get rid of the corrupt Tom Carter and get Jake Keaton to replace him. Keaton was a patriotic man– by Shepherd's standards– not worried about getting his hands dirty, not afraid of the grey areas, but he was a straight shooter, not corrupt like Carter. He was a man who could go home, have dinner with his wife, tuck his kids in bed and close his eyes with his conscience clear– while getting the work that needed to be done done.

Remi wondered how Shepherd felt about Keaton now that he was the one holding her in a black site.

She wondered if she had any orders to break Shepherd out. But she just couldn't remember. The case files said that she herself had escaped from a black site a few years ago. Surely, if she could make it out then the woman who taught her everything she knew could escape. Unless Shepherd being locked up was part of the plan.

Nothing made sense.

Nothing.

According to the FBI case file, Shepherd had tried to kill her at some point during those three years. She always knew that her going into that bag was a suicide mission but she never imagined her own mother pulling the trigger. Granted, her feelings for Shepherd had not always been the warmest, but she would never deny that the woman had saved her and Roman and given them everything– but she'd also taken Avery away from her.

But she knew it was for the best. It made absolutely no sense for her to have a child. Not then, not now.

She was a soldier. She had no time for things like that.

Shepherd's situation was not the only one that did not make sense in the grander scheme. According to her own confession, she had killed Oscar. Her Oscar. She had killed him. She could not imagine what could ever compel her to do so. The plan was for him to be her handler, to the the one to bring her back if the memory wipe had been too severe. He was supposed to be her guiding light, her beacon back home.

And she had killed him.

Had he turned?

The reports also claimed that Oscar had killed Markos.

And that Markos had made contact with her when he was not meant to.

What was he trying to tell her?

You can't trust them.

Who had Markos been referring to?

She would never know. And the only person who knew Markos well enough to maybe give her an answer was locked up. But not only that, Cade had been an NSA informant. A traitor. A deserter.

And the one person she had put her complete faith in protecting her– in protecting her mind– had also turned. Or so it seems. According to the files Borden had been a CIA informant.

The only person she truly trusted in this world was gone. Roman was dead, but before that had tried to kill her.

Remi tried to expand her research, to look into people that had supported their cause from a distance. but even then, she was out of luck.

Bob Drabkin was dead– killed by Crawford.

Crawford was dead– killed by her and set up by Roman.

Keele was dead– after having put a kill order on her.

She needed fixers. She needed people who could get work done and keep their mouth shut.

She needed contacts.

She tried to get things started in NYC, but she had to be careful. She could not act too conspicuous around one of the best FBI teams that was watching her closely– as the sick friend and the devastated wife they were all genuinely worried about.

Luckily, their being worried about her lent her some advantages. She used her situation to ask for some time to be alone and they offered her that without a second thought.

But still, it was not enough.

Another thing working to her advantage was that Roman's new clues referenced a lot of the originals. And those she knew quite well. There was no way she could travel on her own without raising too many flags. So when she finally made the link with one of the tattoos and a new hint, she thought she'd finally gotten her break.

Japan.

She had someone there she could trust.

And from the looks of it, Roman had left something there for them to find.

She insisted on joining Reade on the mission and was surprised when her request was immediately approved. She was proud of how deep she'd managed to get within the team, how much access she was allowed for someone who was only considered a consultant.

With Reade focused on prepping and coordinating with local liaisons after they'd arrived, she managed to step out of their hotel, claiming she needed a walk to clear her mind.

She bought a burner phone a few blocks away from the hotel and made a call.

Half an hour later, she was standing at a busy street corner waiting for a meeting.

It was late in the evening and the street lights turned the dark night sky into a colorful display. Remi studied the people around her for a moment. And in return, a lot of people studied her. The white woman covered from head to toe in tattoos will turn heads no matter where she went in the world.

She stared at her hands, at the tattoos that covered every inch of her. She remembered the mock up images on the computer screens. She remembered her sketches, as well as Roman's and Oscar's. But it was still so strange seeing them all over her body. She wondered how Jane had reconciled with her body being like this.

She stared at her hands, at the ring that sat around her finger. It was the wrong ring. The wrong ring, she kept telling herself.

And yet, she could not shake the feeling of how comfortable and how familiar and how safe it felt wearing it.

She heard a car approaching, her contact had come through. She pulled her gloves out of her coat pocket, slipped them on and crossed the dark street to meet them.

It was time to get the revolution back on track and end this charade.