Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, it's been hard to work on two stories at once. Safe in Your Arms is almost over so soon I will be able to dedicate all my time to this story. Thanks for reading, please review, and I own nothing.
Chapter 7: The Jailbreak
We spend the rest of the day planning Tom's jail break. And by 'we' I mean Red and his associates, who completely disregard every idea I have. I guess I hadn't proven my worthiness during the robbery or Seth's rescue.
By afternoon they have made a pretty fool-proof plan to rescue Tom. Considering how Red had escaped dozens of agents with only 2 bottles of wine and some matches a few hour ago, I expect that the jail break will go smoothly. I don't see any possible kinks in the plan.
Red has somehow determined where they are keeping Tom. Apparently he has a source in the FBI, but he won't tell me who. Not that I blame him, they say trust is a two way bridge and I certainly don't trust him.
The jail break is set for tomorrow. It will start early in the morning. We should have Tom out by 7 am if everything goes well. From there, we'll make a quick stop at Red's safe house to pick up our few belongings, and then Red will drop us off at the bus station.
We will leave and never look back. I will never see Reddington again, and he will never see me. Tom and I will live out the rest of our days pulling of the petty heists that we are so good at, and everyone will live happily ever after. At least that's how it should go in theory.
I can't help the uneasiness growing in me. No matter how good of a plan it is, no plan is perfect and I know one mistake could send the whole thing spiraling to the ground. There is an equal possibility that we will get shot or arrested tomorrow as there is that we will all get out of this safe.
I spend a better part of the day watching Hudson swim around his tank as the anxiety gnaws away at me. Red doesn't even have a TV to give me something mindless to do to distract myself from tomorrow. At 5 I find myself wandering into the kitchen, my stomach reminding me that I had yet again forgotten to eat all day.
Chef Smith fixes me up with another delicious dinner. I'm not exactly sure what he makes me, but there is chicken and some type of creamy sauce in it and it is delicious. I thank him profusely and he leaves me to eat alone at the small island in the center of the kitchen.
I don't know where Red is- he had spent the day at various business meeting, flitting into the house in between to talk to some associates or gather materials. I had only seen him twice after our little adventure to my apartment, and I don't think he had even noticed me. That's why it surprises me when I look up and find him in front of me.
"Red," I say, starting a little when I notice him. Why hadn't I heard him enter? Usually I am pretty aware of my surroundings, my job requires me to develop my senses or wind up dead. I wonder how long he had been watching me.
"Hello Lizzie," he says quietly, his shaded green eyes meeting mine.
"How did your meetings go?" He sighs and sits down across from me, placing his fedora on the island.
"I met up with an old friend today."
"Oh?"
"He tried to kill me." The matter of fact way he says it makes me laugh. He quirks an eyebrow at me, giving me an incredulous look.
"Is something funny about someone trying to kill me?" I try to stop my laughter, but only succeed at laughing harder.
"No, it's just that," I laugh again. "It's just the way you said it." I start laughing again. He looks at me like I'm insane.
Finally I get my laughter under control. "So what did you do?"
"Do you really want me to answer that question?" Probably not. I meet his penetrating gaze. Definitely time to change the subject.
"Is everything with Tom set?"
He nods. "You should be ready to leave by 5:30 tomorrow." I glance at the clock, it is already 6. I sigh, not looking forward to going to bed. I should be able to fall asleep easily with the bed made in heaven, but I am almost guaranteed to have nightmares tonight. I'm surprised I didn't have nightmares last night with all the stress I am under.
"Not looking forward to going to bed?" His attention is fixed on me.
"Not looking forward to tomorrow."
He purses his lips, "How bad are they?"
"How bad are what?"
"The nightmares."
I meet his gaze; it's as if he can read my mind. My mind searches for an appropriate answer and finds nothing so I decide to use his method- answering a question with a question.
"How bad are yours?"
His lips turn into a small smile. He doesn't break eye contact, keeping his gaze steady yet free of emotion. He ignores my question. "I imagine most of them are from your childhood, the time before Sam took you in."
I stiffen up instantly. "What do you know about my childhood?" His gaze is calm despite my glare. He knows he has the upper hand.
"I think I have already mentioned that I know many things about you." Red apparently doesn't realize how angry I can get, or how much stress I am under at the moment, because if he did he wouldn't have pushed me so far.
I keep eye contact as all the ways I can possibly hurt this man flash through my head. It takes all of my self-control not to drive this fork into his neck. Only thoughts of Tom calm me enough to prevent myself from injuring Red.
"Fuck you," I say loudly and then I stalk out of the room. Red lets out a small chuckle behind me and then says softly, "You wish, sweetheart."
Those words almost make me turn back, but somehow I manage to get to my bedroom. I let out a string of swears, Red's name interrupting the flow every once in a while. Finally I am able to calm myself enough to go to bed.
Just as I had expected, I have a nightmare. There is fire all around me. The flames surround me, the intense heat scorching my skin. Smoke fills my lungs and I can't breathe. The fire gets closer and closer and there is nowhere to run to, nowhere to escape and the flames have almost reached me and- I wake up with a start. I gasp for breath letting the cold, clean air fill my lungs. No smoke, no fire.
I untangle myself from the sheets, my heart still racing. My hand unconsciously strokes my scar, the proof that the fire was real. I had almost died that night. The moonlight filters in through the window, lighting up the room. The clock reads 3:18. Still 2 hours until we go and get Tom.
My breathing and heart rate slow, but I can't shake the fear. That nightmare had been particularly vivid. Without Tom to comfort me, I can't calm down.
I try to fall back asleep, but every time I close my eyes I see flames. After 10 minutes of this, I give up on sleep. I shiver slightly as I shake free of the sheets and stand. I am wearing a short pair of running shorts and one of Tom's oversized t-shirts. I press it to my nose and inhale his scent, letting it comfort me.
I silently walk out of the room, my socks muffling the sound of my feet on the hard- wood floor. Red better be up, I suspect that he is. I use the maze trick again and sure enough I find him in the same room as yesterday morning.
This time he isn't reading. The bottle of whiskey is considerably lower than it was last morning. He is staring out the window with a distant expression on his face and for a second I think he hasn't noticed my presence, but then he speaks,
"Good morning Lizzie. Come sit down." He motions to the seat across from him that I took yesterday. There is already an empty glass sitting in front of it. I'm not sure if I should be amused or angry that he knew I was going to join him.
He refills his own glass and gives me a generous portion.
"Do you ever sleep?" The question is out of my mouth before I even consider it.
He laughs, his eyes sparkling when they meet mine. "Sleep is over rated."
"Yes and sitting in the dark and brooding while you destroy your liver is a much better use of your time." My tone is mocking, yet playful. He reads that I need to be distracted.
"I was not brooding, I was planning."
"Planning for what?" He proceeds to tell me about his 'contingency plans for his contingency plans' and recalls all the times they had saved his life. We keep up this easy conversation as dawn starts to break, Red taking every opportunity to get me to laugh.
Finally as the first rays of sunlight start to break over the horizon, Red's gaze hardens and he says, "It's time." My nerves immediately return. This plan needs to work.
I am ready and in the car by 5:30, and as promised we leave right away. The bullet proof vest is clunky and constricts my already labored breathing. I run my thumb over my scar, but not even that seems to calm me down. Beside me, Red takes notice. "Just relax, Lizzie. This will all be over soon."
His deep voice immediately calms me and my thumb stops moving. Instead I pull out my gun, counting the bullets for the third time this morning. It is full, I am ready for this. I steady my breathing and focus, the events of the past few days have gotten me used to stressful situations like this. I could do this, we could do this.
We arrive outside the black site at 6:00, right on schedule. Behind the tall fence topped by barbed wire I can see what appears to be a giant abandoned warehouse. Red tells me that there is a whole FBI facility contained in there, but having no previous experience with black sites I'm still a little skeptical.
We drive past the front entrance. I see security cameras at every corner. So maybe Red is right. My entire body is tense in anticipation for the breach, but Red looks totally relaxed. He is gazing out the window with a faraway expression, as if he doesn't even realize where he is.
"Red," I call to him.
He turns to me, raising an eyebrow, "Yes, Lizzie?"
Sometimes he is so attractive it is really distracting. "Umm, are you ready?"
He gives a boastful smile, "I was born ready." The car stops at that opportune moment and he hops out, I follow right behind him. I eye the building warily, Tom is somewhere in there. According to Red, we are currently in a blind spot in the security, the only one in the facility. We have to move fast though because guards make rounds every fifteen minutes.
Red pulls out some wire cutters, "It's really as if they're just inviting us inside. This fence could be breached by well-trained monkeys."
I don't understand how he can remain so calm when we could be caught and possibly killed at any second. My heart is beating at an alarming rate and I feel like I'm about to go into cardiac arrest. I decide that talking and acting calm is his coping mechanism.
He cuts quickly and pulls out a large chunk of wire. He gestures me through.
Our team is small, just me, Red, and 3 of his people that I don't recognize. One is an Asian girl who doesn't look much older than me that Red calls, "Luli." She seems to be second in command. The other two look like typical guards, heavily muscled and covered in tattoos.
The security is light to keep up appearances. The FBI seem to be counting more on the animosity of the black site then it's defenses. We walk right up to the back door, our source inside has momentarily disabled the camera for us. I quickly pick the lock (in about 5 seconds, one of my personal records) and we slip inside.
I half expect to be shot down as soon as we enter, but there are no guards in sight. Red walks confidently through the warehouse, heading straight towards the elevator. I follow with less confidence; the FBI can't possibly be this bad at it's jobs.
The elevator doors slide open when we press the button. I can't believe that we are just going to walk in through the elevator. The plan is starting to sound less and less appealing. The doors close with a final clang and claustrophobia fills me. The FBI wouldn't have to try very hide to catch us in here.
We position ourselves as we descend, our guns pointing outside the elevator. Red gave me the odds before: we will be outnumbered 10:1, this needs to be a quick operation. We get Tom and we get out.
The elevator slows to a stop. I can hear my heart beating wildly in my ears. The doors slide open. Red steps out and empties two bullets into the air. "Everyone, if you value your life, get down on the floor and put your hands above your head."
The agents stare at him for a second, the room falling silent. "Do it now!" he shouts, waving his gun around wildly. He told me he would be playing the 'mentally unstable hostage holder' and he is doing it perfectly.
Luli rushes to one of the computers and starts typing away furiously. She is shutting down the security systems and finding Tom. I help the other two guards pat people down, confiscating their many concealed weapons and then zip-tying their wrists.
Red keeps waving his gun around at people, muttering to himself. I have to stifle the insane urge to laugh. One of the agents is staring at him, like she recognizes him and is wondering what the hell he is doing. Why would she know him? Is he that important? I wonder again what he had done to get a task force dedicated to finding him.
I need to google his name once I get home. I remind myself that once I get home (where ever that will be) he will be gone from my life forever. I am surprised to find that that no longer fills me with the relief it used to. I don't have time to consider that for long because Luli jumps up from the computer, "I've got him."
Red and I follow her, leaving the two guards to watch the hostages. She leads us down through winding halls and stops in front of a room. Red doesn't waste time, shooting the door handle off when he finds the door is locked.
The door swings open and I let out a gasp. Tom is there, slumped over the table. He looks up with glassy eyes when he sees us barge in. His face is covered in deep purple bruises. His clothes are shredded, his shirt soaked in patches of his blood.
"Liz?" His eyes struggle to focus on me.
I rush over to his side, choking back a sob. "You're alright now Tom, you're going to be okay."
Red had somehow obtained a key to his cuffs and quickly unlocks him. I help him stand up slowly. When he gets to his feet his legs give out and I have to grab him to prevent him from falling. I grunt under the weight. Red grabs the other arm.
"We have to go now," he says glancing at his watch with a stressed look.
We practically drag Tom out, he is barely responsive. I can barely feel his weight anymore, the adrenaline has kicked in. When we arrive at the elevator the guards are more than ready to leave. I can hear sirens blaring in the distance.
The elevator ride seems to take twice as long as it did going down. Tom groans and slumps down even more. His eyes shut. "Stay with me Tom," I shout desperately. His eyes flutter open again, they are filled with pain.
The elevator doors slide open. I can see flashing lights approaching beyond the fence. Red swears and we move faster, Tom no longer able to help us. Luli opens the door and sprints through the opening in the fence. The two cars we took to get here are on the curb. Luli and the two guards jump into the first one and it speeds away before Red and I can even reach ours. We throw Tom in the back as a police car goes skidding around the corner.
Bullets ping off the bumper of the car. Red jumps into the front seat and I dive on top of Tom, slamming the door shut behind me. Dembe pulls of the curb, the tires screeching wildly. We fly forwards; I grab Tom who is no longer moving.
We are just about to reach the corner when a police car pulls into our path. We are only seconds away; Dembe doesn't have time to stop. He twists the wheel violently. I can feel the vehicle lift up as we go on two wheels.
The tires spin rapidly for traction and for a second I think we are going to make it but then with the sound of tearing metal the other police car hits us full speed. The car goes airborne. A scream escapes my mouth as we spiral downwards. We hit the ground and everything goes black.
