Chapter Twenty-One: Parting of Ways

"What the hell was that?!" Reid shouted, not caring who could hear him.

"Shhh," Cat rolled her eyes, "it was only a little improvising."

"That is not improvising!" He hushed himself slightly, "That's insanity!"

"Oh don't be such a baby. We got what we wanted, didn't we?"

Reid stared at her, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"C'mon," Cat whined, "don't be such a wet blanket."

"I never should have trusted you," he pinched the bridge of his nose, anger welling up inside him like molten lava. Cat tried to keep the mood light, but the glare she received made her stomach churn. She had hoped Reid would understand her side of things. She couldn't stay being the good guy forever. That just wasn't her. Surely a smart man like him understood that.

She bit her lip, glancing about them anxiously. After they had left the meeting with Agata and Misha, they had been given a location to meet a chauffeur at. He was to drive them to the Pavel building in Moscow. In the meantime, they were to wait in a cold, dark alleyway behind some giant nameless buildings. The only source of light on the whole street was a single lamppost at the very end. A light drizzle of rain made soft pitter-patter sounds, mimicking footsteps.

"I didn't really think you ever trusted me," she muttered bitterly. Reid looked up sharply.

"You're right," he took a few steps away, "I never trusted you. But for a little bit there, I was stupid enough to consider it."

Normally at this point Cat would've lunged at him – if she'd had a gun, she probably would have shot him. But instead, her arms felt heavy and useless at her side as she watched Reid disappear into the distance, the sound of his footsteps mixing with the ambiance of the rain. Instead of feeling free from the shackles which had bound her for so long, she felt like she was being abandoned.

"Spencer," she called after his retreating figure in a breathy whisper. She never intended for him to hear it, and he didn't.

Cat Adams never cried. She just got really angry.

She stamped her foot on the ground and crossed her arms like an angry child. Her face screwed up as she tried to hold it in, but she soon felt hot, uncomfortable salt water on her cheeks.

"NO!" She screeched, aiming a kick at a nearby trashcan. "AGHH!"

She took a deep breath, wiping her face and trying to ground herself again. She wasn't some small baby. She wasn't going to throw a temper tantrum.

She was free. She'd done it. She'd won. She outsmarted Reid and she outsmarted the entire government, and now she was safe in Russia, ready to wreak havoc.

As Reid rounded the corner he became suddenly aware of how exposed he was. The Ice Elephants had spies all around the country, what were the chances that one would try to attack him, defenseless as he was?

He turned up his jacket collar and look down, avoiding the eyes of any stragglers passing by. He continued in this manner for a good hour or so, trying to find his way to back to his hotel.

He thought of how badly he had just screwed up, trying to imagine how Ellington was going to react. He had let himself be guided through the situation by Cat, who had blown their cover and switched sides.

"Hello there, mate."

A British accent awoke Reid from his reverie. He turned cautiously.

A lanky looking man, around 25-30, was leaning against the side of one of the buildings.

"Do I know you?"

"Well I hope not," he chuckled, "I'm a secret spy, if you knew me I wouldn't be doing my job right. Name's Richie – at least for the purpose of this conversation it is."

"What do you want?"

"To help you out," he tapped the side of his head knowingly, "word travels like lightning around here. You and that Adams girl have run into a wee bit of a tiff now, haven't ya?"

"I suppose you could put it like that."

"Well," Richie glanced around and tossed a gun to Reid, who caught it expertly, "here's a little extra helper, so we can talk on equal terms."

Reid looked at him, still not convinced.

"Well, what else have you got, lad? Follow me and I'll help you sort out this mess. Or, you could go back to that fella Ellington who will write you up for messin' up his mission and everything."

"How do you know so much about me?"

Richie let out another chuckle.

"You think the FBI can get ahold of a problem solving genius without a few others knowing too? There are people that smart organizations will keep an eye on, and you, Spencer Reid, are one of those people."

Reid weighed his options. To walk away and try to make it back to his hotel alive, where he would have to face the consequences of Cat's actions, was hardly an appealing idea. On the other hand, a completely unknown man had just thrown him a gun and offered assistance – it would be a completely dangerous and stupidly risky thing to believe him.

"Alright, lead the way."

Richie bowed dramatically and opened the door of the building he had been leaning on.

"I do business nearby, for convenience."