Paul D'angelo's weapon swept from Lecter to Erin and back. He was torn: all of his studies on Lecter told him that to take the gun off Lecter for a minute could be suicide. Yet Dr. Lecter stood there calmly, his hands behind his back as if lecturing a class. It was Erin who was paradoxically the more dangerous: the blade at Starling's throat and the mixture of fear, terror and rage playing across her face told him that.
This wouldn't be easy. Paul had studied hostage negotiation, and it was a common tenet of hostage negotiation that a hysterical perp is harder to deal with than a calm one. Paul didn't think Dr. Lander was a killer – doctors usually weren't, with rare exceptions – but she was obviously not in control of her emotions, and that complicated his tasks.
"Dr. Lander," he said soothingly, "put down the scalpel."
"Like hell I will," she quavered. "You put down your gun."
Paul lowered the muzzle of the weapon but did not put it down. He hoped it would be enough.
"Now take the cuffs off Dr. Lecter," Erin demanded.
Paul shook his head slowly. "I put down my gun, Dr. Lander. Now think this through." His voice was calm. "You don't really want to hurt Agent Starling, do you?" He took a cautious step forward.
"You want to save Agent Starling," Erin said bitterly, her voice jig-jagging up and down in a reflection of her emotional state. "You move back or I swear to God, you'll be able to save what's left of her in a goddam jar."
Paul stopped. "Now come on, doctor. I know you're upset, but let's not hurt anyone. Nobody wants to hurt you. You don't want to hurt Starling, do you?" His mind whirled, trying to think of what to say. Dealing with hysterical doctors who meant to vivisect your partner was not part of normal FBI training.
"Yes I do," Erin said bitterly. Her lips were pale and trembling. Her eyes were wide with shock. He could see her throat moving. Thankfully, she retained enough of her surgeon's training to keep the hand holding the scalpel next to the soft, silken skin of Clarice's throat still. "She wants to take him away from me."
"Look," Paul said. "No one's taking anything away from you. Dr. Lecter is under arrest, but you know you can see him, you can visit him. Now just give me that scalpel, and no one will hurt you." He took another step forward.
Erin's eyes flashed in fury. The scalpel blade moved across Clarice's throat. A thin line of bright red blood welled from the slit. Both Paul and Dr. Lecter jumped. Paul stepped back, reholstered his weapon, and raised his hands to show he meant no harm.
"Okay. Okay," he said. "I'm moving back now."
Dr. Lecter was calmer: the wound on Clarice's throat was quite shallow. It was a warning, nothing more, and he had little doubt that Erin could have done much worse if she wanted to. But it was time for a professional to take over these negotiations.
"Agent D'angelo," Dr. Lecter said. He drew out the syllables into four, speaking very precisely. Paul looked at him suddenly, wondering if he was mocking him.
"Agent D'angelo, I want the same thing as you," Dr. Lecter said calmly. "May I approach Dr. Lander without being shot? Perhaps I can...resolve this situation." His tone and manner was the same as if he had asked Agent D'angelo for more Earl Grey tea.
After thinking about it for several long moments, Paul D'angelo nodded slowly. His eyes narrowed.
"Dr. Lecter, I'll let you, but I'll warn you right now. If you tell her to cut on Agent Starling, I'll gut-shoot you first, then her."
Dr. Lecter sighed, as if the threat was merely a social gaffe.
"Agent D'angelo," he said calmly, "even a demon can be an agent of angels. I assure you, I shall not encourage Dr. Lander to continue her experiments in vivisection. I understand the stakes here. There's no need to be rude."
With that, Dr. Lecter walked forward to where Erin Lander stood trembling over Clarice Starling's unconscious form. He met her eyes firmly. Paul D'angelo considered trying to rush her, but decided he couldn't. If he didn't get the scalpel out of her hands in time...
"Erin, I understand what you're doing," Dr. Lecter said kindly, "but don't."
A look of shock came over Erin Lander's face.
"But...but she hates you," Erin said.
"She does not hate me," Dr. Lecter said. "Nor you."
Dr. Lecter took a step closer to her. It occurred to him that if she was pushed to the edge, she might well bury that scalpel in his belly. Handcuffed, he could not defend himself. But he did not think she would, and it wasn't the first time he had bet his life on his skills.
"She wants to put you in a prison cell," Erin protested. Her eyes were wide in disbelief.
"She wants to, but she will not succeed. Erin, please. I do care for you, and do not want to see you in a cell."
A combination of joy, rage, pain and confusion raged across Erin Lander's face.
"First principles, Erin. What are you? What is your nature? A killer? No, I know them very well. You are a healer, not a killer."
"I can kill her," promised Erin, her voice quavering. "Why are you doing this? She'll never stop pursuing you."
"And I can accept that," Dr. Lecter said calmly. As he spoke, he moved over carefully to the table. His fingers reached out and stole a small silver device from the table. Erin Lander's surgical forceps. As he scooped them into his hand, the tip of his little finger brushed the limp meat of Clarice Starling's left arm. He took in a deep breath.
Dr. Lecter's intent was twofold: to get out of the cuffs and then to stop Erin from doing something she would regret for the rest of her life – not to mention him. Agent D'angelo did not seem to notice the theft of the forceps. Dr. Lecter pivoted so that D'angelo would not see the forceps in his handcuffed hands.
"Put the scalpel down, Erin," he said calmly. "Remember your promise. First, do no harm."
Tears welled in Erin Lander's eyes. "But she doesn't love you!" she burst out. "I do!" She began to sob like a toddler. Dr. Lecter nervously watched the hand with the scalpel before deciding that she wasn't going to kill Starling accidentally. Now that would be hideous irony, he thought.
Dr. Lecter laid his chin against her forehead, all he could really do while handcuffed. The skin of her forehead was hot. In his hands, he bent the tine of the forceps with his powerful fingers. It occurred to him that he could not have done this thumbless; it would have been too painful.
"Erin," he said calmly, "it's all right. I promise you, we shall see each other again. Both free. You'll never see the light of day if you do this."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw D'angelo take a step towards her. He shook his head firmly. Paul stopped immediately. How odd, to be partners with the man who meant to put you in a cell. Erin sobbed against him.
"Erin," he said in order to buy some time, "you're not a killer. You're angry and confused, and you believe Starling is responsible for all of your misery."
"We can't," she choked, "ever be together as long as she's alive."
"Killing her won't accomplish anything," he said soothingly. "The FBI will continue to pursue me whether Agent Starling is dead or alive." He slipped the forceps into the lock of the handcuff and turned it experimentally. He felt it catch on something and then the cuff on his left wrist rolled open. Dr. Lecter passed the forceps to his other hand and carefully removed his other cuff. He did not want the cuffs to rattle, so he took them and slipped them into his back pocket. A glance over at D'angelo showed that he did not realize that Dr. Lecter was free.
"Erin," he said kindly, "will you do one thing for me?"
"What?" she asked, still in tears.
"Take one step back for me, and then pay close attention. Once you have heard what I am about to say, you may kill Agent Starling if so you wish."
Erin stared up at him with wide, teary eyes. But she obediently stepped back from Starling's limp body for him.
"If you'd done this, Erin, I would have killed you," he said. Her eyes expanded and her mouth dropped open in shock.
"You fear I love Agent Starling, and that fear is correct. But," he said quickly. "you fear most that your feelings towards me are not returned. And that is not correct, Erin. Before, when you asked me what I would have done had you died five years ago...I would not have simply said 'Oh, well.' I do love you, Erin."
Hope appeared in Erin Lander's eyes. Dr. Lecter nodded calmly and plotted out what he planned to do. The next few minutes needed to be choreographed very, very carefully if he meant to escape with his skin.
"Erin," he said calmly, "you will always remember this moment – and your lips will burn."
Dr. Hannibal Lecter raised his left hand and tilted Erin's chin up to his. Gently, he bent down and placed his lips on Erin Lander's. He felt her make a soft sound as he did so. He could taste the wetness of the tears that had tracked down her cheeks. The poor girl, she wasn't a killer any more than Clarice was a surgeon. Behind him, Agent D'angelo let out a shout. Time for phase two.
Dr. Lecter pivoted. With his right hand, he plucked the scalpel from Erin's unresisting fingers with the skill of a master pickpocket. With Erin disarmed and Clarice saved, there was only one thing left to do. Dr. Lecter did it now.
Paul D'angelo stood perhaps ten feet from Dr. Lecter. He knew Lecter was free and was armed. Dr. Lecter could only hope that he wouldn't fire for a few more seconds for fear of hitting Clarice. But there was no time to wait. Dr. Lecter turned and moved in. He could move very quickly when he needed to, and he needed to now.
Five running steps, as fast as a track athlete might move. Then he was where he needed to be. His left arm swept up and out, pushing Paul D'angelo's gun hand away towards the ceiling. Paul fired once, and the bullet whined into the dark wood molding of the dining room wall. Then Dr. Lecter's right hand was up and slashing, and Paul D'angelo's throat became a red mass. Dr. Lecter plucked his pistol from his suddenly nerveless fingers, threw his right arm around D'angelo's waist and bore him to the floor.
Dr. Lecter stood up then and turned to face Erin. She stared at him blankly, with a look of shock.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked.
"Arranging my escape. Our escape, if you'd rather."
Paul D'angelo was still alive, but not for long. Dr. Lecter knew exactly where he had intended to cut. Paul's hands were on his own throat, vainly trying to hold together his slashed jugular vein. He stared up at Dr. Lecter with a terrible knowledge of his own impending death in his eyes.
Erin Lander moved over from the table. At first, she was jerky, like a stiff marionette. Then, as her mind cleared and she sized up the situation, she moved more smoothly. She squatted by Paul D'angelo and sized up the situation. This, she was trained for. This, she could handle. Calmly, she pushed the sides of the wound together and held them as best she could. Blood oozed out over her fingers, but that was okay.
"Come, Erin," Dr. Lecter said calmly. "We are leaving."
"Wait," Erin said. "Wait a minute. Let me get him stable."
"No." Dr. Lecter's tone was as sharp as it had been when he had discussed first principles with Clarice Starling in Memphis. "We will go now."
"Dr. Lecter," she implored, "he'll bleed out in two minutes. I just need my suture kit. It's in my bag. I can stabilize him, he won't die."
Dr. Lecter offered Erin Lander an irretrievably cold smile.
"I'm afraid not, Erin," he said. "I am leaving now. You wanted to come with me. So, come."
Erin Lander looked down at Paul D'angelo, gurgling his life away on the floor of the dining room. A red froth of blood coated his mouth and blew revolting bubbles. But he was still awake and aware. His eyes touched hers.
"He'll die if I leave him now," Erin whispered to Dr. Lecter.
"Every choice has its costs," Dr. Lecter observed. "And you were about to vivisect Agent Starling."
"No!" Erin Lander protested. "I mean..I wasn't...not really...," She glanced over at Clarice Starling's body and turned her gaze away as if horrified at what she had almost done.
Dr. Lecter smiled tightly. "You won't be killing him," he explained.
"Yes, I will," Erin said. "Please, Dr. Lecter. My suture kit. It'll take five minutes to throw in a few sutures. You can handcuff him so he can't follow us."
"No," Dr. Lecter said peremptorily. "If you want to come with me, Erin, you must leave now." He began to walk towards the door.
As Erin Lander knelt by the wounded Paul D'angelo, her mind whirled in confusion. She knew what would happen if she left. Paul D'angelo would die. There was no question about that. It would be a quick death – two minutes and he would bleed out. But if she left, she would also have Dr. Lecter. A life of luxury with the man she loved lay before her. She knew that her med school degrees – both her own and her dead roommates – would allow her to practice in virtually any country she wished. Clarice Starling would never find them.
If she stayed, she knew what would happen then. Starling would awaken. D'angelo would survive. Both of them would tell their stories. She would be arrested, incarcerated, and treated as a common criminal. They would put her in jail for trying to murder Clarice Starling and for helping Hannibal Lecter. Instead of a life of luxury, she would be imprisoned for the rest of her life. Everything she had ever worked for would be ruined. They might allow her to be an aide in the prison infirmary. Maybe.
Dr. Lecter was halfway to the door. Paul D'angelo put his hand on her arm. He seemed to know what she was thinking.
"Please," he whispered. A bloody bubble blew from his lips.
Freedom or incarceration. Luxury or hardship. Wealth or poverty. Success or failure. Pride or shame. Continuing as a doctor or being reduced to the status of a prisoner. All in the balance. everything she had ever wanted could be hers. And all it would cost was simply getting up and walking away. Paul D'angelo wouldn't suffer any more pain than he was in now, and it would all be over in a few minutes.
"Erin, are you coming?" Dr. Lecter's voice floated back to her.
Erin Lander burst into tears. "Dr. Lecter, please!"
Dr. Lecter turned and stopped.
"Erin," he said patiently, "it's now or never. And you do know, you have no guarantee of saving him. You don't have the equipment. I knew exactly where I was cutting."
On the dining room table, Clarice Starling groaned and shifted. It occurred to Erin that Starling might well kill her once she awoke.
"Once Agent Starling is awake," Dr. Lecter added, "she will not treat you kindly. Absent me to blame, she will hold you responsible in any case."
Erin Lander turned to look at Dr. Lecter. Her gaze was open and naked and her face filled with pain.
"You told me not to kill her," she implored. "If you love me, don't make me kill him."
"You didn't kill him. I did." Dr. Lecter observed calmly. "Now you must decide."
Erin Lander's eyes flicked from the man she loved to the man on the floor. The man who would, if allowed to live, help destroy everything she held dear. If he died, no one would ever know what she had done to Clarice Starling – and what she had almost done. He alone had seen it all. If he died, her secret died with him.
Erin took a long, sobbing breath, lowered her head, and made her decision.