The Kingmaker bellowed loudly and threw the glass across the room. Sailing directly into the old stone fireplace, it shattered and spilled the expensive cognac in a spray. The Fire whooshed as the flames spread wildly briefly boosted by the alcohol.

"Something wrong?" His son asked.

The kingmaker glared at him, "The Director wants to know if I need help on the Bracken trial!"

Moss stared at him, "Well that's not good. You think he's going to retire you."

"No shit!" He bellowed again, "I'm not going to die painfully in some mysterious accident. I'll go the same way my father did. Peacefully, by my son's hand when I'm ready."

He'd actually already picked the poison that he'd introduce to his father. It was both euphoric, quick, and untraceable. Though the Kingmaker was still a few years away from needing it, Moss was planning it a little earlier. After the Holidays next year, his father would slip into sleep and pass quietly with his family and friends near allowing a grand funeral for him and also allowing Moss to take his place in the Cabal. The earlier time table was to show the Director that Moss wasn't a mindless supplicant to his father. He made his own choices and though he often agreed with the Kingmaker, he also wasn't afraid to disagree. Bracken, unfortunately, was a shared mistake.

Thinking over their plight, Moss sat in silent contemplation as his father paced the room.

"The easiest way to end the trial is to take out Bracken." Moss said finally, "Unfortunately, that will bring that woman to our door."

The Kingmaker shook his head, "I'm not afraid of some psychotic drug queen. I worry about what that fool Bracken told her about us."

An idea formed in Moss's mind, one that could expedite matters and leave the Raven with a dead end. In addition, this would greatly aide the Cabal in their own problem. A few of their members had been taken out recently by Raymond Reddington. If The Kingmaker made a new deal with her, then died within a few months at the hands of Reddington…

"Perhaps something different would solve our dilemma and the Cabal's as well."

As Moss laid out his plan, the Kingmaker nodded with a grin, "That my boy, is a plan. Bracken dies washing away my poor choices, I get exonerated with the Cabal and die with dignity, you rise out of my shadow your own man, and we put that monster on Reddington's ass instead of our own. It's beautiful."

Moss saw the prideful look in his fathers face, "then I believe a call to the Raven needs to follow one to the Director."

The Kingmaker nodded approvingly, "I always knew you were cunning, but getting me to agree to my own death? You're ready to take my place."

After dropping Mango at Dulles airport to handle his new task, Ravenna had driven to Newark to oversee Romeo's project. She pulled into the small warehouse just outside of the Port of Newark to see him standing proudly among the sea containers.

"How did it go?" Romeo asked as Ravenna stepped out of the car.

"I'm a little jealous." She said as he guided her through the maze of metal boxes. "She can't compete with Anastasia but she is very talented. Shame she wastes her beautiful body on that loss."

Chuckling loudly, Romeo shook his head, "Griffin has been pretty useful over the last few years. Still, I can't wait until I can kill the bastard."
Digging into her purse, Ravenna pulled out the handi-cam and passed it to him, "That new formula Miguel and Hector worked out was beautiful. It will be the premiere rape drug within a year."

Romeo grinned as he turned on the camera and watched a few seconds, "He didn't even hesitate?"

Ravenna shook her head. "Not even a little. It's perfect, even with the side effects. And Miguel's version of Rohypnol left her with a nasty hangover and a huge memory gap. She doesn't remember anything, not even my call or waking up at her home."

"That should make the cops nuts." He laughed, "wait till some uptight slut finds out that she's pregnant and can't remember fucking some guy."

Smiling, Ravenna stopped to see three of her men working on unloading a container full of large tanks of oil.

"How is this working out?" She asked.

Romeo shrugged, "Well we're only through six containers but we did lose a couple of our packages to leaks."

He lead her over to the van where more than a dozen oval shaped pipes were sitting on oil spill pads. "When I came up with this idea, i thought sending them out in coffee would be the way to go. But hiding products in the agitator blades of bulk yogurt containers was ingenious."

"It made sense." She agreed, "it's one of Brazil's largest exports."

"Every time we do those 50 gallon drum fruit purée shipments, i worry that we'll miss one and tip off the feds." Romeo walked over to the agitator blades and smiled, "With these, we won't leave any product behind."

"True but…" shaking her head she looked at the amount of narcotics they were putting into the van, "THis is hardly a permanent solution for New York, the Venezuelan shipments might be."

Romeo bobbed his head as the men pulled out the motor that turned the blades. "True, but this pure shipment will at least keep things moving and it's only one shipment. I'm still in favor of running them through Boston instead of Baltimore. It's far enough away from New York and not as significant of a threat as Norfolk."

"Our ability to ship by air is limited." She replied as she examined the packages of fine powder being dumped into a plastic tub. "If we are talking about moving whats left of the New York operation to Boston exclusively, then the docks are the only way to move that kind of bulk."

"Which means we'd have to either cut Doyle in on the shipments or cut him out of the docks."

Ravenna nodded as her phone rang, "And we haven't had a lot of success in muscling him out into the open."

She checked the ID and frowned. She shouldn't have an unknown caller on this phone, it was relayed through her call center in Arboles.

Interesting.She answered it, "Yes?"

The throaty voice of an elderly man greeted her, "we seem to have a common problem. Perhaps together we can correct it."

Not sure who it was, Ravenna decided to go fishing. "And what problem do I have that I would need you for?"

"Bracken." The voice said, "are you interested?"

Ravenna grinned and pointed to the phone. "Interested is too strong a word. Listening sounds better."

Romeo grinned realizing this was the call they'd been waiting for since bracken got busted and Simmons got dead.

"Well I need the trial to end before he caves in for a plea and you need him silenced before he exposes you."

Ravenna laughed, "If I wanted him dead, he would be already."

"Then why keep him alive." The voice asked, "he's burned as a candidate and as a politician."

"True but he has something I want very much."

"And that would be?"

Smirking at Romeo she leaned against the van one arm cupped under the one holding the phone, "That's my business. What I need is a mistrial and someone who will not be refiling charges."

"I can do the second but I need grounds for the first."

"And I can get you those grounds." She said, "but there are certain things I want for that information."

"Such as?"

"Bracken has been instrumental in cutting down my competition. I want ICE, DEA, Coast Guard, and Border Patrols to continue with their heavy patrols and enforcement to the southern borders."

"What about your own shipments?" He said, "I can help you there."

"No thank you." She replied, "I can handle my own logistical solutions. All I really want is my competition buried and a clear end to Bracken's trial so I can extract him."

"Once he's given you what you want, what happens to him?"

"The moment I have what I need, he's no concern to me anymore."

"Give me proof of death and you have a deal?"

"Very well," she replied, "give me contact info and I'll hand you the information you want. Enough to force a mistrial."

"Done." Came the reply, "Wrap this up quickly and we may be able to do more business in the future."

"I look forward to it, Mister…"

"I'm The Kingmaker. And you are?"

"The Raven." She said and smiled wickedly at Romeo, "but you may call me Mistress."

Carreto, Panama.

Hidden in the eastern rain forest south of Puerto Escocés is a graded and paved runway that very few knew of. Its most prominent ingredient used in the concrete mix was gneiss. Specifically varying shades of green to camouflage its existence with the surrounding jungle. It was about the size of a n aircraft carrier with only enough of the trees cleared away to be used. Most people who land here are drug mules and gunrunners running various planes ranging from Cessnas to DC-3s. Very rarely could anyone see a Gulfstream or Learjet landing here. Yet that was the case as the small private jet rose from its near sea level approach and touched down effortlessly. It came to a stop not far from a small convoy of vehicles to include several old military jeeps, a deuce and a half and a Land Rover Discovery. Though October is known here as one of the wettest months of the year, it was surprisingly sunny out with a naturally high humidity and less than three hours left of daylight. The door to the air conditioned Land Rover opened to reveal a tall Hispanic man with long black curly hair. Dressed impeccably in light slacks and a white button down opened to his abdomen, he was the typical image of a drug king.

As the hatch was opened by Dembe and he climbed down Rafael smiled wide when Red stepped out onto the stairs.

"Raymond!" He shouted as Red stepped onto the concrete. "You old fiend! Welcome to Panama."

"Rafael!" He said with a grin, "I trust things are going well in your border war?."

"Thanks to the weapons you provided, we're keeping the government dogs out of the Morté. " He said and paused at the curvy brunette in the loose flowing top and casual slacks that climbed out of the plane behind Red. "And you brought some beautiful scenery of your own! Tell me this one is for sale."

Keen paused as she heard Rafael's statement, "That'll be the day."

"Trust me, you couldn't handle that one." He said jovially, "Rafael De La Pointés, meet my associate, Elizabeth Grady. She has a small business venture in the United States that she needed a vacation from."

Rafael smiled lasciviously at her and held out his hand, "Such a pleasure to meet you my dear and here you come to my humble part of the world for your much needed rest." His eyes trailed down her slander neck and over the curves of her breasts and settled on the slope of her hips, "If there is anything I may do to help relieve your tensions, just let me know."

Keen closed her eyes to hide her eye roll. "I'm sure just being away will be sufficient."

Red put a hand on Lizzy's lower back, "Mind your manners, Rafael. I haven't peddled flesh yet and I'm not about to start."

"What a shame," He said and smiled wolfishly at her, "So what brings you to Panama, my old friend?"

"Information." Red said. "On one of your neighbors."

"Ha!" Rafael said as he turned towards he car, "All my neighbors work for me."

Red nodded, "Yes well I'm looking at one of your neighboring cartels."

"American Patrols have cause a lot of problems here," Rafael said, "Only ones left are Garibaldi is to the west and Mancuso to the north."

"And to the East?" Lizzy said.

Rafael turned and looked at her, "That is Colombia, it's pure chaos over there. Between what happened to Velez and Escalante, that whole area is in chaos."

"Interesting times call for interesting measures." Red said as they made there way to the the vehicles. "I Understand that the Raven has made crossing the borders rather difficult."

"That punta making us all work too hard." He spat, "She's cost all of us a fortune with her stupidity. There are plenty of addicts for us all but she trying to monopolize America."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here." Red said confidently. "By any chance do you still keep a supply of those wonderful cigars of yours."

Grinning widely, Rafael snapped his fingers and a beautiful Latina climbed out of the Land Rover with just such a cigar.

"This is Gisele," Rafael said as she handed red the smoke. "That cigar was rolled on her thigh. Just this morning."

Red glanced down at the very short skirt, long shapely legs, and then back at Rafael, "I can't wait to try it."

"Pig." Lizzy grumbled as they climbed into the SUV.

Hanover, PA.

Still a week away from Abbie's next appearance in court, John sat with his back against the rear tire of his old GMC Canyon. Bought new in 2005 after Abbie had given birth to Jason, he'd all but stopped driving it in 2006 when he'd found out that she was pregnant again. It sat in the parking garage at the DHS with no insurance until it was paid off, using his government issued Interceptor instead. The only time it ever really got driven was when he'd needed to go somewhere without a government owned and GPS tracked car. The rest of the time it remained at DHS, collecting the dust that even now, still covered the midnight blue paint.

Now it sat beneath a couple of trees on a hill that overlooked the warehouse where Abbie's security team had sequestered her from prying eyes.
A large facility that at one time, held beans, corn, and other grains used at the local food refinery. But as the plant's ability to process the grains more efficiently into grocery items increased, the old warehouse had stopped being used. As is common in his native Pennsylvania experience, the warehouse had been built on a hill not unlike the one John was parked on, which had resulted in two warehouses more or less, since the upper half had a floor that sat almost two stories higher than the lower half. As a result, the building had two sets of truck docks which, more often than not would have been used by tractor trailers that carried grains, from the upper end to the lower end as well as to and from the plant that was just over a mile away.

The tracer John had put on one of Abbie's guards revealed that they were in the upper warehouse. John recognized it as a tactical strength. Giving her team the higher ground from anyone attempting to penetrate the structure from below, and that was also an advantage in retreat, since they controlled the descent to the lower level and there for again, holding the high ground to take out rear guards in an assault on the upper level. The soldier leading her team, O'Malley, knew his urban combat tactics.

John picked up the GPS unit that was honed in on the tracer signal and again, consulted the building plans he'd pulled up at the office. It showed the most recent layout of the structure.

As far as he could tell, they were holed up in the offices located on the east wall. There was also a locker room there that had showers, as well as a large break room. But what he couldn't tell from either the GPS or the building plans was where exactly Abbie was. He saw the blip on the screen move around the building several times. Most of the time it was in the upper area some in the office, but at least once a day it was down in the lower side for several hours. He assumed that it was for guard duty.

Setting the plans and the GPS aside, he dug into his duffel bag and pulled out a small can of potato chips, Justin had gotten him hooked on the stupid things. Talk about truth in advertising, "Once you pop, you can't stop." He crunched one loudly and picked up the binoculars and again eyed the structure, looking for some kind of weakness he could exploit. Something to get him into the building undetected. He had to, his children were depending on him. John sighed as once again he came up with nothing.

He almost set the binoculars down when the overhead door started to raise up. Quickly, John dropped the can and focused on the door.
His breath caught at Abbie standing on one side with an H&K assault rifle cradled in her hands, perfectly visible from his position. Her face had a grim determination on it as the black suburban slowly pulled out of the building. Through the windshield, he made out the appearance of a blond woman in a black t-shirt. Very cute but no one he recognized. Once clear, he saw Abbie push the button to close the door. John focused his attention on her. Dressed in black tactical pants and a black t-shirt, he saw her long black hair pulled back into a pony tail. Hair that should have been straight, not flowing in a curly mass of ebony. Her arms were also lean and well defined.

The fingerless gloves were another major difference. Abbie, never understood the idea of wearing gloves with bare fingertips. Her combat boot tapped impatiently until the door finally came to a close. John lowered his binoculars and immediately picked up the GPS unit. He watched the dot moving across the very area that he'd seen her at. Setting both down, he loses his eyes as he realized that it wasn't Abbie that he'd seen. It was Rizzoli.

He quickly got up and moved around to the opposite side of his truck. He yanked open the rear passenger door and dug through the box of files there until he found hers. John pulled tout her dossier and stared at the picture, again taken aback by her likeness to his wife.
He looked over the bed of the truck at the warehouse, lost in thought. Something here wasn't making any sense.

"Why would you, being directly involved in this case, risk a mistrial by running protection for Abbie?" He turned back to the file. The obvious answer was as a body double. "But I put that tag on you in the courthouse. Your not a lawyer, so you can't try the case. How did you switch places with her before going to the courtroom?"

His eyes widened as he remembered them leaving the bathroom. John stuffed the file back into the box and slammed the door shut. He paced behind the truck as he tried to figure out how this could help him. Then it came to him, how he could end this and get his children back without having to kill his wife.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quickly dialed Ella's number for the first time with hope.

"Did you find her?' Was the immediate answer.

"Yeah, I found her." He replied, "she's holed up in a warehouse and I'll need a distraction to dig her out. Two, or three men at the most though. Any more will attract a shit tone of attention. Make sure you don't care too much about them though, I'll need bodies for the scene."

"You want me to provide you with expendable men for your distraction?"

"You want her dead, I want my children back," He breathed in and prepared himself for the lie he needed her to believe, "I've been thinking a lot over the last year or so about getting a divorce. This would be a lot easier."

"A divorce?" She said disbelievingly, "You expect me to believe that you want your wife dead so you don't have to divorce her?"

He closed his eyes, "The only reason I haven't filed is because she'd get custody of my sons. As if that wasn't enough, I'd have to pay alimony and child support through the nose. If this goes smoothly enough, I get it all without a huge fight. Just make sure I come away clean or I won't be of much use to you."

"Two or three men loaded for bear. That's all you need?"

"That's it." He said with a slight smile, "That's all I need to sell this thing."

"Where and when?" She asked.

"Hagerstown Maryland. Tomorrow night." He said, "I'll bring them in the rest of the way myself, Just so I know your playing me right."

"Did you get it?" She asked Romeo.

"The stupid bastard has the damn phone on him." Romeo grinned as he slapped the laptop closed. "I got him, the phone and, the truck within ten feet of each other."

"Send a full team, ten men." Ravenna smiled as she sat back in the car, "I want the building leveled tonight. With all of them inside."

"Rex would be the best choice then." Romeo said. "I just wish I could be there to make sure it goes down right."

"Yes but we have a bust tonight." She said coldly. "De La Pointés thinks he's going to get a shipment into New Orleans. I want to put an end to his line of thinking."

"Shame we have to do it legally, it would be so much more fun to drop the body of his courier on his house as opposed to interrogating him in lock up."

Ravenna smiled brightly, "Right at dinner time."

They laughed together at the thought of the smuggler falling through the druglord's roof and landing on his dinner table.

Tonight was going to be a good night.