Five years had come and gone. The girls were inseparable and would play for hours in the wings of the stage during rehearsals, running through the costumes and playing with the props. Kate had left Isaak more in charge during shows, which allowed her to deal with more of Red's extracurricular activities, becoming more of an assistant than that of a stage manager. It was a frigid winter morning when Isaak received an anonymous phone call.

"Isaak, this is *static*. I'm at the theatre, there's an issue with *static*." The line went dead. Isaak got up from where he was sitting, kissed Masha and Katarina on their heads and left for the theatre. Due to the most recent snowstorm, the theatre would be closed for the next few days, and he wondered who would have been there to begin with. Upon arrival, he noticed there were no cars in the parking lot, and the front doors were locked, as they should have been. He trenched to the back of the building and found one of the receiving doors ajar. He cautiously walked in, and saw a single chair in the middle of the stage with the spotlight highlighting it. As he walked up to the electrical panel to turn more lights on, his hand was almost to the switch when he was met with a massive blow to the back of his head, leaving him in complete darkness. When he woke from his unexpected slumber he found he was tied to the chair he'd seen as he came in; now with a table in front of him as well as another chair. From the wings, Constantin came walking across the stage to the table.

"Privet Isaak, so nice of you to join our little party today. I see you received my phone call." He sat across from Isaak, a large brown envelope in his hand.

"What do you want Constantin? What are you even doing here? Can't you leave us well enough alone?" Isaak spat.

"Isaak, Isaak, Isaak. I am here to help you." he replied.

"HELP me? I don't need your help Constantin! Po'shyol 'na hui!" Isaak yelled, then spat in Constantin's face.

Constantin reached across and slapped Isaak across the face, then taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the spittle from his cheek. "Wake up man, don't you see it. I'm here to expose the lies and deception your wife has been spouting to you." he chuckled. "Please tell me you are not as dumb as I thought you once were."

Isaak looked up in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about you bastard? She hasn't been deceiving me. You are mad!" he scoffed at the old man.

"Oh really. How can you be so sure?" he paused, attempting to choose his words carefully, or not so in the end. "Does she look at Raymond differently that she does you? Perhaps speak of him in a lascivious manner, with lust in her eyes. Will she spend more time at the theatre, with him, instead of coming home to you? How many gifts has he purchased for her? Does she have the same excitement for your gifts as she does his?" his words were cut of.

"Net! NET! She is not cheating on me! Mr. Reddington spoils all the dancers, not just Katarina." Isaak paused the anger rising in his chest. "You just want her back for your own sick desires."

"Please, Isaak, I hold no value for… used and damaged goods. Her body…" he cringed patting his stomach, "I want nothing to do with that!" Isaak lunged at Constantin at the implication that Katarina was any less beautiful after having their precious daughter. Constantin continued, "Calm down my boy, I am simply looking out for your best interests. I have no desire to bring either one of you back to Russia."

"You still have not proved that my wife has been cheating on me, not that you have any. She has never lied to me. And I trust her completely." Isaak said proudly.

"Ah, I see you have proven me right once again. You are as dumb and naive as you once were when I first took you in." Constantin opened the envelope and slowly placing one incriminating image after the next in front of Isaak; each of the photos showing Red with Carla and Katarina out and about the town. In one, the three of them were at a cafe having brunch, Red much to close to Katarina for Isaak's comfort. In another, it showed them in a dress shop, Red's arm around Katarina's waist and leaning in for what appeared to be a kiss or a whisper in the ear. Another had the four of them at dinner, but Red's arm was on the back of Katarina's chair. He had never even noticed it that night. More and more pictures were laid out before him to see, doubt, jealousy and rage began to explode within the trapped man. He never thought that she would yield to Red's advances. He hoped that after everything she'd been through with Constantin, she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"Where did you get these, this garbage?" he growled.

"I see I have hit a nerve. This has been going on for sometime, I know because we have been watching you all from afar. We know of everything that has transpired over the last five years. Had it never occurred to you that Katarina became pregnant so quickly? She was sick for sometime before the theatre closed for remodel, correct? Almost… as if she may have already been with child before you and her…"

"STOP IT! I don't want to hear anymore of this! Katarina…" Isaak was brought to tears. He didn't want to believe what this sick and twisted man was telling him. It couldn't be true. His Mishka. And Mr. Reddington had been so good to them. We were never left wanting in any way. "... She would never cheat on me Constantin."

"Suit yourself boy. But the evidence is sitting right here in front of you, how can you possible ignore and dispute it? Why should Reddington be the one spoiling your wife? What if I could make it possible for you to being doing the spoiling, rather than him. What if I could give you all you need to far surpass anything Reddington could give her? You are losing her my boy and I have the means necessary for you to obtain your wife's love back." Constantin proposed.

Isaak sat back and contemplated. What could this man possibly offer me that would allow me to get my Mishka back? Was he truly losing her?

"What is it that you want from me in return Constantin? Deals like this are never one sided." Isaak said resigned.

"I see we may have the beginnings of a beautiful negotiation. I want to get to Reddington. I want to see him destroyed. Not just hurt financially, but physically. He has taken so much away from me. First Katarina, and now Anastasiya. You know she was murdered. The police ruled it a suicide, but I know it was Reddington, sending me a message." Constantin replied.

"What do I get outta this deal? Do we eliminate of you from our lives? Can we finally live in peace?"

"Of course. I will leave you to live your "American Dream" with your white picket fence. I guarantee not only your safety in the matter, but that of your family as well." Constantin said slyly.

"How exactly do you want me to "destroy" Mr. Reddington then. I assume you have a plan in mind." Isaak questioned.

"Ah, yes the details." Constantin motioned to his men to untie his captive. "Now let's get down to business. First and foremost, no one and I mean NO one is to know of this plan. If you truly wish to see your family unharmed, then you are not to speak a word of this to anyone. Not even your wife. Am I understood?"

Isaak nodded.

"Good. Well then, this will take place on closing night for Swan Lake. We have noticed that you have all but taken over for his previous stage manager. This puts you in the prime position to sabotage not only the stage, but the lighting as well. Just prior to intermission, you will take a pair of bolt cutters and cut the main lighting line. This will cause a small fire, but you will have just enough time to grab your wife and daughter and flee. By cutting the lights, it will allow you to get away undetected."

Isaak gasped. "But what about the rest of the cast and crew? What about the audience? How will this destroy Mr. Reddington?"

"All good questions. You must realize that there will always be collateral damages that unfortunately are out of anyone's control. Of course there will be subsequent injuries, hopefully no deaths, at least not to the patrons. I only desire for Reddington's ignominious death. The death of Reddington, and any others that night, will not only destroy him, but his name. No one attached to the Reddington name will stand a chance in the theatre world for years to come." Constantin finished his prideful speech and stood up, pulling out a gun and pointing it his captive. "What say you boy? Do we have deal?"

Isaak looked down the barrel of the gun, and swallowed hard. "And you can guarantee that my family and I will be safe. There will be no harm to the three of us?"

Constantin placed his armed hand to his chest, "You have my personal guarantee. I wouldn't be where I am today, if I didn't keep my promises." He motioned to have one of his men bring over a small duffel bag. "Would this be an adequate up front payment? I will provide you with the rest after the show." He started to pull out large stacks of bound hundred dollar bills.

Constantin provided Isaak with the address to a home in the countryside where the three of them would escape to after the deed had been done. The whole way home he racked his brain, trying to sort through all that had just transpired. He was being paid off to literally kill a man; the same man who rescued his wife from the abuse that Constantin had been inflicting on her for over a year. He convinced himself that it was all for her, his Mishka, and his precious little daughter.

Notes:

Russian translations:

Privet-Hi/Hello (informal)
Po'shyol 'na hui-Fuck you (loosely)
Net! NET!- No NO!