Lost all patience with me, dear ones? Hmmmm. This should help a little. Thank you to all who have reviewed my tales. You are the ones who encourage me to continue. I'll hush now, dear ones, and get back to the tale. Okey dokey, here we go.
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Patience is a virtue. Given to all, but practiced by few.
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The lights come up sharply, blinding him and making him close his eyes against the glare. He has just heard a thump and a yelp as Emily slid from the table. He can see her now, crawling ineffectively across the floor as the woman she knows as Dr. Alexandra Fell steps towards her. Fell. Allegra Pazzi. She is no longer the fluff of a woman he had met in Florence. The death of one's lover and the need for revenge will do that to a person. Mourning and loss drive the mind to do things it would never consider while happy and in love. He watches as Emily is pulled to her feet and presented with a hard slap across her face. He growls low in his throat, warning Pazzi. Allegra grins at him, striking Emily once more, but his wife is prepared this time, she lets her head go with the blow. He sees the fist coming up before Pazzi does and smiles as Emily lands the punch. She smiles briefly before being slammed into the table and being punched in the solar plexus. HE strains against his bonds as he watches his wife double over.
Allegra is quick as she secures Emily to the stainless steel table. She finishes with the ankles and returns the roll of duct tape to the rolling tray. Next, she ties a tourniquet back around Emily's forearm, preparing to reinsert the IV. He can smell the scent of fear that rolls from where his wife lays, bound and prone. The needle is inserted and taped carefully into place. She checks the saline drip and looks to where he sits.
"Trying to be the strong silent type, Dotorre?" she comes to stand in front of him. Dark eyes shining with glee. "Hard to see your loved one hurt before you? Brings up all those feelings of rage and anger doesn't it?" she laughs and looks into his eyes, and he looks into hers. She hides it well, but he can see her fear. He smiles, baring teeth behind the metal bars.
"Tell me, Allegra, what are you afraid of?" his voice is hoarse from the ether, but still causes his wife to shiver on the table. She recognizes the tone, even of Pazzi does not.
"Not of you, Dotorre." she says, her voice flat, eyes revealing what she really thinks.
"Of course not, Allegra. You're afraid that you'll end up like your dear husband." he hangs the bait in front of her, maroon eyes burning into her soul. He can hear Emily's hair slide on the steel as she tries to look at them. She cannot, and he regrets that. The part of her that others would term monster would enjoy seeing Allegra Pazzi's fear. He looks for a moment on that, his wife raising the bloodied knuckle to her lips. Perhaps…
"Diablo." Allegra hisses close to his ear. He doesn't respond as she turns away. She returns to the table, begins to prep Emily for surgery. Not one that she is likely to survive if he cannot free himself. She is carefully injecting another sedative into the IV line, watching the dose carefully. Hannibal does not remove his eyes from her as his fingers, secured behind him by the handcuffs, search for the tag in the back of his trousers. There. Slipped in under the tag and secured with a thin piece of tape. A precaution he took before he left the house. A releases a homemade handcuff key, carefully excised from its hiding spot with delicate fingers. He remembers the last time he had use for such a key. Memphis. So long ago. He works the key into the hole, working it until he felt the catch release and the cuff open. The left cuff was more difficult, secured tightly against his wrist almost to the point of stopping blood flow. Careful. He cannot allow the cuffs to drop to the floor as they open. If that were to happen, Emily would surely die since he would be transferred tot he straightjacket and the hand truck. There. The second cuff sprung open and he caught it in his hand. The glint of a scalpel brought his attention to the table, and the smile on Allegra's face.
"Paying attention, Dr. Lecter? Good." her voice took on that of a school teacher as she looked back to Emily's prone body beneath her, green drapes surrounding the operating area. "Now, I can promise this won't hurt her a bit. Fortunately, I can't say the same for you."
Patience is not a virtue the good doctor likes to use. He hates to be inconvenienced, and is, for all intents and purposes, very, very impatient. His senses are heightened as he watches the scalpel. It is painful to watch, knowing that he must wait for Allegra to become distracted from him and focus entirely on the procedure. The seconds pass slowly in his mind, he can hear the echoes of the grandfather clock in the palace. Heavy precise tick-tock, marking the passage of time. He brings his left hand into his lap when he is sure Allegra is not watching. She is overly assured of his being held captive, for she did not remove the Harpy from his left pocket. Slowly, don't make a sound, his hand slips into the pocket, drawing it out. Again, silence being the necessary factor, he flips it open. The handcuffs were traded in the pocket for the knife as his hand slips back around through the chair slats.
He cuts the duct tape that secures him to the chair, carefully pulling it away in small increments. Next, the tape that bins his legs to those of the chair. Just enough so that he can move from the chair, not caring that duct tape remains on his clothing. Slowly, he rises, hoping that Allegra will stay focused on Emily for a few more seconds, all the time in the world for him to do what he needs to do.
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