Happy day after Thanksgiving everyone! To all you Black Friday shoppers, stay safe! Much thanks to reviewers the EastEnder, ladylampetia, Pandora'sMoon, and Jessahme Wren. :)

(x)

Raymond Reddington's Private Jet

4 Years Prior

Red relaxed against his leather-cushioned seat high in the sky aboard his private jet. His line of work allowed him some indulgences. Traveling in style just happened to be one of them. He sipped on a bottle of dark imported beer and glanced down out the window at the world, its pinpoints of electricity, and its troubles, removed from thousands of feet above. Though he was dressed sharply in a cream-colored suit from head to toe, he was the picture of leisure.

He heard him before he saw him. "Well." He also heard the snap of medical gloves coming off. "She's got a couple cuts and puncture wounds and some bruising. And…" Dr. Maltz plopped down in the seat across from Red. "A clean bill of health."

"So no plague carrying, no airborne life-threatening illnesses?"

Dr. Maltz waved his hand away. "Nah, just a few cuts and scrapes. Nothing to worry about. I gave her a tetanus shot, so she won't have to worry about irritating things like, you know, lockjaw."

"Good to know. Speaking of which, has she said anything?"

"Nada. She opened her eyes after I gave her the shot and fell right back to sleep. She's still in dreamland. Oughtta wake up soon though."

Red sat back in his seat, but turned to face the doctor. "Thank you, Abraham. It's good to know I can count on your professionalism, your expert medical opinion, and your discretion."

The doctor grinned in reply. "Well, letting me hitch a ride to a nice tropical location does help sweeten the deal." He put up his feet and accepted a drink from the onboard stewardess. "Makes me comfortable."

Red smiled to himself. He liked the comfortable. The comfortable were less prone to become curious and ask pertinent questions. "While you're here, please avail yourself of any amenities, drinks, wifi or cell phone service…"

"You guys don't charge for baggage, right? You hear some airlines are starting to do that now?"

"It's a travesty of our times, Abraham. All the more reason to procure your own transportation when the time calls for it."

"You're goddamned right I will. Keep sending me clients, I'll have it in no time." He smirked. "By the way, want me to keep the language down? There's young ears back there. What's she gotta be? Twelve? Thirteen?"

At that moment, a crash sounded as the door of the cabin in the back burst open. Casey sped forward, as if making a run for it. Both men turned around from where they were seated. She skidded to a stop in her tracks, looked at Red and at Dr. Maltz, and then she swerved around in an uncertain, clumsy circle. All nerves, she finally came to a stop once her eyes stared out the window of the airplane.

Casey turned back to both men and after a moment of stuttering, said, "I'm an American."

Red appraised her and said. "Old enough to know the magic words." He motioned with his drink. "Abraham, would you mind giving us a moment and joining Dembe on the flight deck?"

"I don't need an interpreter. I'll let you two talk." The doctor lifted his drink as he complied with Red's request. "Besides, gives me a front row seat as we head towards paradise."

Casey stood awkwardly as the doctor left the cabin, and she stared forward, frowning at Red.

"Why don't you take a seat?" He put forth his hand. "Would you like something to drink? An in-flight meal? We do still have a few hours ahead of us before we reach our destination. Though I understand that the pineapple alone is worth waiting for."

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"That's quite a tone. Unbecoming of a young lady your age." He sipped his beer. "Though I do understand it's all the rage with your generation, really insubordination has been for decades."

"Where are we going?"

"Let me impart some advice. Use good deductive reasoning. Follow context clues. Avail yourself of technology. There's an app now that can pinpoint your location anywhere on the globe. You may be the only pre-teen alive to not carry a smartphone, though I really don't have a leg to stand on in an argument for one."

She kept staring at him. "You killed Frank."

"Ah, yes. The man who left an interesting assortment of bruises on you or put you in situations where you might attain them. If we want to be technical about it, I actually brought someone else there to kill him. He was marked. That's what happens in this business when you take things that aren't yours without considering possible ensuing repercussions." Red loosely steepled his fingers. "I also killed the man who would have killed you, gone back to his hotel, ordered eggs benedict for breakfast, and never once given you a second thought."

Red watched the stages happen. A door opened on her face, letting in a cool breeze of fear. Then she shook her head to herself and steeled herself. She had learned somewhere that even if she couldn't find a way to not be afraid, it was important not to appear so.

He said, "You look tired, Casey. Why don't you take a seat?"

"How… How do you know my name?"

"Now, that's a question I'd expect, but not the one I'd ask if I were in your …" He looked down at her shoes. "Sketchers."

She thought for a moment and then asked, "What else do you know?"

"I know you were working with Francois in some capacity. No doubt he needed someone small and wiry and compliant to help him in his illegal endeavors. Sometimes tight security can be tough to breach unless you're, oh, somewhere under ninety pounds. Somehow he managed to keep this little change in his original plans from Paramise, most likely right around the time that he decided to keep what he stole for himself."

She looked at him. "He didn't steal it."

"Trust me, Casey, he stole it. Even if he took it from you after he sent you to steal it."

She seemed to not like something about the exchange, and she said, "Is that it?"

"Nowhere close. I found more about you, about your background, and your travels without needing to consult outside sources. It wasn't exceedingly difficult. Which says something."

"Are you gonna tell me what you know?"

"I could, though you already know it yourself." He said, "You really ought to have a seat. As I said, we still have a few hours ahead of us."

Casey thought about it for a good long moment. Then she cautiously stepped forward and sat down in the seat next to him. A stewardess walked up and handed her a fruity drink garnished with a cherry, pineapple, and banana.

Red said, "It's non-alcoholic before you ask."

Though only thirteen, she downed the drink as though it was. Having a cool drink seemed to do something small but important for her. She breathed a little more easily. Red saw her decide something in that moment. She decided that she might be in danger later. She might even be killed later. But for the moment, no one was hurting her.

He said, "This hair-trigger panic thing you do won't really serve you where we're going, or much in general. You can feel free to turn that fight or flight instinct off for the duration of our trip."

She made a noise. "Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Though for the moment, there's nothing specific for me to gain in lying to you."

Casey showed her next thought as she did every thought: on her face. She didn't trust that either.

"Though it's clear you have trusted others," he said.

For a moment, she seemed to go somewhere else. "Frank wasn't all bad," she said softly.

"I doubt you knew enough about Francois to have made an accurate assessment of that. Though I believe you must have remained with him for some reason."

"He taught me things, so… I helped him." She thought for a second and then said, "Not everybody teaches you things."

"Interesting criteria to have for someone who in the end nearly caused you to be killed. Most importantly, whatever he might have taught you, it wasn't enough for you not to be caught."

Casey looked at Red, studied him, as if she stared at him long enough she might be able to understand something about him. When she came up short, she asked, "Are you taking me to anyone?"

"No one treacherous."

While he spoke, Casey had been studying her drink and looking out the window. "We're going to the beach? An island?"

A small smile graced Red's face. "Have you ever been to Fernando de Noronha?"

She didn't have to think. "No."

"That's the last time you'll give that answer to that question."