Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling, Ardelia Mapp, Paul Krendler and Clint Pearsall (as well as anyone you may recognize) belong to Thomas Harris, not to me. But they are so great I couldn't resist borrowing them for a while. I will turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended. No profit. I'm harmless and broke ... So don't sue me.

A/N: And here comes chapter 16, the final chapter. This is thus the last occasion I have to THANK all the people who have followed me in this loooong adventure. So, thanks for having read it. And to the reviewers: you are wonderful; all of you.
Before I leave you to the story, I want to add a very special THANK YOU to Clariz, for her constant support and publicity !


Chapter 16

Three days had passed. The FBI investigation was progressing slowly, but yet it was progressing. They had identified Menendez body and, doing the same kind of research Clarice had done before them, they had connected him to Willinger. The fingerprints found at the farm had confirmed their hypothesis.

The second body had been identified as the one of Gary Sommers, a seventeen years old little crook from New York. Clarice had had to go and visit the crime scene with her colleagues. It had not been the easiest moments, but she had managed with honors.

They had found three witnesses who had testified to have seen Menendez in the area. They had not yet found Mc Namara' s house, but they were getting closer. More worrying was that one of the agents had interrogated the gas pump attendant who had given Jason and her their first serious lead. Fortunately, the description the man had given of Clarice was not precise enough. However, from this moment on she had been more careful to avoid any potential confrontation on the field.

From a 'relational' point of view, these three days had been tough on her. The contempt Matt Brandon was openly expressing for Clarice had progressively rubbed off on the other agents. She had forced herself not to react, but it had not been easy and she did not know how long she could resist to the will of sending her fist to the man' s face.

And, as if it had not been enough, she had not been able to join Hannibal the night before. The team had worked late and Brandon had suddenly decided to have a status meeting at midnight. It surprised everybody for there did not seem to be any particular reason for it. But nobody dared to comment. After that, Clarice did not have enough time to go to Laking and come back in the morning.

Despite Hannibal' s warnings, she had called him from the cell phone he had given to her. She needed at least to hear his voice. It was the middle of the night but his voice was not sleepy. She imagined he had been waiting for her and rather than being upset by her disregard of security rules, he had sounded relieved to hear her.

She caught some concern in his voice though when she told him about the unexpected nighty meeting. He asked her details about her day, especially about the way her colleagues had behaved with her. As a matter of facts, she had had to admit Matt Brandon had been a little less unpleasant to her lately. When she had asked Hannibal if she should worry about it, he had tried to reassure her. But even he did not sound very comfortable with the idea. Once more she had asked him how long they would still have to wait before they could disappear. He had let her hope that the end was close, that there was a possibility they could depart the following evening.

Just before hanging down, he had whispered to her: "Don't trust them, Clarice". And these last words had poisoned her whole day. However, nothing special had happened and she was now driving on the motorway. In a few minutes she would arrive at Laking and would finally forget the rest of the world. She felt so safe in his arms, as if nothing bad could ever happen to her as long as she was with him. She could not explain why she felt like that, but she did. She would not push on him, but she sincerely hoped she would not have to drive back in the morning.


Hannibal had been rather busy in the last three days. Apart from making identity documents for Clarice and setting a background for her character, he had traced their route to Brazil.

They would first travel by car to Columbus, where they would take a plane to Phoenix. Hannibal counted on the fact that security on national flights would be much reduced, especially if they did not take off from a major airport. He had planned a stop in Lewisburg, Pennsylania where he would collect some cash he had sent to himself.

Once in Phoenix, they would buy a used car and drive to the mexican border and to Nogales. He was almost certain the FBI could not mobilize all the necessary means on an old case like his, not without a precise lead. They would mainly control international airports and main transportation networks, but not little border posts. With a light disguise, they would easily pass through the net.

Then, a rented plane would take them to Mexico City, where they would take a regular flight to Manaus and then Sao Paulo.

They would travel in the States as Mr. and Mrs. John Mulligan, a couple of english tourists visiting the United States. These Ids were not very safe, but they would do for two or three days. They would assume their new identities only when they are on the other side of the border.

He had a look at the room. Whatever they would need was packed already. He was just waiting for Clarice. They would leave as soon as she arrives.

Everything was ready and Hannibal was more than confident in his plan. He should have been relaxed, and yet he was being nervous. He had objectively no reason for that, but a little voice in the back of his head was whispering to him something was wrong. He knew it was completely irrational. However, time had taught him to never neglect his intuition and he could not help feeling disturbed.

The fact that Clarice had not come the night before was most probably at the origin of his discomfort. This improvised meeting at night could have a dozen valid explanations and in her report of the day, Clarice had not mentioned anything that could let him think the FBI had guessed about them. How could they have found out anyway ?

Clarice was a professional. She was evolving on known grounds and was being very cautious. She was strong and determined. However, she had been subject to an incredible pressure in the last weeks and there was a million things she could have said or done that could have betrayed her. Maybe just a slightly out of place reaction or a look ... Details ... But things a trained FBI agent could have noticed, pushing him to investigate further.

Hannibal shook his head as to get rid of his uneasy thoughts. To distract his attention, he sat on the bed and for the hundredth time started again to exercise his left leg. He had made considerable progresses and could now walk for short periods using only a cane.

It was almost nine. Clarice would soon be with him and he could finally relax.


There was no free space in front of the hotel and Clarice had to park a hundred yards away. She stopped the engine and stepped out of the car. She had a last look at the Mustang, thinking with a bit of sadness that it might very well have been their last trip together. Nostalgia did not last long, though. A new life was ahead of her and she could easily sacrifice her car to it. She smiled to herself. In a few seconds she would be in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

She started to walk in the direction of Calhoun' s. The nights were starting to be less cold, she thought. It was almost pleasant tonight. As she was getting closer to the door, her steps were getting lighter and she was progressively getting rid of all the tensions of the day. As far as she could remember, she had never experienced anything approaching with anyone.

She was enjoying the last yards, like a little girl the last minutes before Santa Claus visit. The hand that seized her by the jaw abruptly brought her back to the dark reality of the night. Clarice did not have time to react. She felt a strong arm wrap around her waist from behind and before she could catch her breath she was flattened against a firm masculine chest, a large hand on her mouth, another one blocking her arms.

Clarice' s immediately thought of a thief, but the voice that whispered in her ear was not mistakable. "Well ... Agent Starling ... What a surprise ! Don't you know it is not safe for a young and attractive woman like you to wander alone in the streets at night ?". Matt Brandon chuckled and the sound of his laugh made her shiver. "Or maybe you're not alone ?" he added.

Clarice tried to evaluate the situation calmly but from whatever side she was looking at it, she could not see any positive aspect. So, he knew. How did he find out ? One thing was strange, though. Brandon was behind her, but she could not see any of the other agents who should have been there with him ... had all this been a regular FBI operation.

She heard a metallic sound and soon both her wrists were cuffed behind her back. Brandon released the pressure but kept his hand on her mouth. "Don't loose your time, Starling." he said. "You won't find any support around. It's just you and me. Lecter is mine and I have no intention to share the glory with anybody." She felt him smile more than she saw him.

Clarice knew his kind too well. Devoured by ambition, convinced to be the real masters of the world ... She had seen so many agents like him. They were enrolling into the FBI or the CIA not to serve, but for the sensation of power it provided them with. Brandon removed his hand from his face and she took a deep breath.

" - And you think you can take him alone, don't you ? You don't know him, Brandon.
- Oh yes, I know him. It's been a year I've been studying him, Starling. Everything ... Your personal notes too.
- Then you know he'll kill you before you can realize what you're doing.
- I can assure you he won't. He'll want to, no doubt about it. But I have a priceless asset: his precious lady."

Clarice raised her face and looked at him for the first time. His eyes were shining with malice. "No need to deny, Starling. I heard your phone conversation last night." He grinned.

" - How did you know ?" she asked.
" - Umm ... I can tell you. It does not matter anymore. A witness gave a very precise description of a woman and a young man who had shown him the picture of Menendez." Seeing her puzzled look, he went on, obvious pleasure in his voice: "Not at the gas station, Starling. In a coffee shop.
- But I didn't ...
- See it in the file ? No. I saw to it."

Clarice bit her lips. It had been a lost game from the start. There were too many things that could go wrong. Brandon raised his hands to her face and before she could ask anything he gagged her with a scarf. "Now, if you don't mind, Clarice, I would like to finish as soon as possible with this."

He wrapped his coat on her shoulder to hide the handcuffs, brutally grabbed her arm and pushed her before him. There was nobody in the street. They started to walk towards the hotel, but Brandon did not stop at the door. Instead he lead Clarice to the next cross street and took on the right. It was more an alley than a street. They made a few yards forward and turned right again. There were no street lights and it was very dark. And yet he had taken her to a little door without hesitating. Clarice realized he had prepared everything and had most probably been waiting for her for quite some time. Her brain was racing but there was nothing she could think of to get out of his grip. The image of Hannibal waiting for her upstairs appeared in her mind and she started to panic. She would be the instrument of his capture after all.

Brandon flattened her against the wall and picked the lock. Then he pushed her inside. They were in a narrow corridor. It was dark and Brandon seemed much less assure than outside. Clarice could hear muffled voices, probably coming from the dining room. She thought of trying to alert someone, but did not quite see how it could help her. Brandon had an FBI Special Agent badge with him. At best, people would not intervene; at worst, they would cooperate with him. It smelled like the end of everything. She knew Hannibal would not let anybody take him back behind bars. He would rather die. And the more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself she'd rather die with him than take on this dull life of hers. Now that she had tasted what love really was, she did not feel she would stand living without it. Of course, this was something people like Matt Brandon would never be able to understand.

She felt a hard object pressing on her back. She did not have to see it to recognize the barrel of a gun. She felt Brandon' s breath on her neck and he started whispering in her ear: "I have so far no intention to kill your boyfriend, Starling. But make no mistake about it: I will not hesitate one second if I feel anything is going wrong. Lecter is wanted dead or alive ... Keep that in mind if you plan doing anything that could make the task more difficult for me." He paused to give more weight to his words. From the tone of his voice, Clarice realized how much he was enjoying the situation. "As far as you are concerned, ... I really would like to see how you're going to handle the whole thing once Lecter is out of the picture. But, this would be a nice bonus, not a must. Should you ever tried to get in my way, I would have absolutely no remorse for taking you out ... Nor would the FBI regret you. You're a traitor, Starling. Believe me, when all this come to light, and trust me it will, you won't find anyone on your side."

The last thing Clarice cared about was Brandon' s opinion, and she had already a very precise idea of what he had in mind. However, the word traitor had a particularly bitter taste, even in his mouth. "So," he went on, "here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna be a good girl and lead me to Lecter' s room. When we are there, I will undo your gag so that you can have him open the door. If I sense anything threatening to me, if I hear anything that could be a warning for him, I will simply shoot you. Do you understand ?" She nodded. "Good. I don't think I have to explain to you the kind of effect a 357 Magnum can have on a human body ..." She shook her head complacently. "That's what I thought. For the moment you've behaved well, Starling. You might make it through it finally. Can I count on your cooperation ?"

She nodded again. She suspected Brandon was convinced she would obey to save her life. He sure could not be more wrong about her motivation. The only thing she wanted was to see Hannibal now ... even if it was for the last time ...

They started moving in silence down the corridor. When they arrived to the stairs, a couple of guests were coming down and they had to hide under the staircase. Once the way was free, they climbed up quickly. Brandon removed her gag when they reached the first floor. Then, with a pressure from his gun in her back he indicated they should move to Hannibal' s room. Clarice started to walk towards his door. Each of her steps was both a torture and a relief. Brandon was following her. He was so close to her that she could smell the sweat on his body.

They finally reached room 12. Her brain ordered her arm to raise and she knocked at the door.


A wave of relief overwhelmed Hannibal' s heart when he heard the slight knock on his door. He took a deep breath and got up. He made the few steps to the door with no hurry. As his hand reached the handle, a reflex of prudence made him hesitate for a fraction of second. "Yes ?" he asked. "It's me." was the simple answer he got. But the voice was unmistakable to him.

He unlocked the door and, as soon as he had done so, it flew open so violently that it forced him to step back until the desk. He did not have time to wonder what was happening for the vision that appeared before him when he raised his face again was self-explanatory. The worst of his nightmares ...

Clarice was staring at him, standing in the middle of the room with her hands behind her back. The man behind her had shut the door as soon as they were in. Hannibal did not have to ask to know who he was. The look of Clarice was enough for him to understand immediately the situation. But no matter how desperate it could happen, what hurt him more than anything could have was the guilt he read in her eyes.

How could they do this to her again ? His anger found its roots not in the fact the FBI was after him or had reached to him, but in the fact that once again they had used her. Hannibal saw the barrel of a gun raise and come under Clarice' s neck and his anger turned to cold rage. He did not utter a word but shot his penetrating gaze at the man. Rage was actually what he needed, for it cleared his mind from any other kind of emotions and filled his veins with ice.

Brandon didn't look away. Instead, a smile broadened on his face. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter, I presume ?" Hannibal nodded. Clarice was standing still. Hannibal saw no fear in her eyes. He knew she wouldn't give in. "I am special agent Matthew Brandon, Dr. Lecter. And I'm here to arrest you." Brandon was apparently proud of his recently acquired good manners. Hannibal decided to play his game. When he first spoke, his voice was calm and his tone courteous.

" - And what, may I ask, makes you think I intent to follow you ?" he asked. "I did not see any support team. Are you by any chance alone in this ?
- I don't believe I need support on this, Dr. Lecter. I think I've got much better than that." He moved his gun to stress his point. "Your lady here ... I won't hesitate to shoot her, believe me.
- I do believe you, Mr. Brandon. But do you really think it would stop me ?
- Don't imagine you can fool me. I heard you two on the phone last night."

Hannibal' s body relaxed a bit and he gave Brandon a smile.

" - I see." he said, still smiling. "The fact is that agent Starling here managed to find me alone ... and before you. I had to ... neutralize her, in a way. Of course, I don't suppose I can bribe you with sexual favors, can I ?
- Don't bother ..." Brandon was getting slightly nervous. "I don't buy it.
- But of course you don't, special agent Brandon."

The contempt in Lecter' s voice touched Brandon where it hurts. He tightened his grasp on Clarice' s arm and pushed his gun, forcing her to raise her face. "Are you challenging my resolution, Dr. Lecter ?" Hannibal chuckled and casually put his hands in his pocket. Brandon stiffened. "Put your hands back where I can see them !" he almost shouted, pointing his weapon at Hannibal. "And slowly !".

Hannibal complied obligingly and the gun returned to Clarice' s neck. But it was too late. Hannibal could feel the cold and reassuring steel of his harpy against his skin, skillfully hidden in the sleeve of his shirt. Now it was just a question of time. "So ... How do you suggest we do this, special agent Brandon ?"

Brandon was now abundantly sweating. Things were not exactly turning the way he had planned. He put his left hand to the back pocket of his trousers and got a second pair of handcuffs. He threw it to Hannibal, who failed to catch it. "Get these and put them on, doctor. Slowly. And I want to see your hands."

"All right." Hannibal answered, with an appeasing tone. He crouched down and retrieved the cuffs. Then he started to slowly get up. He forced himself not to look at Clarice. He knew that he had no margin and that any error would be fatal for both of them. He had the harpy slid from his sleeve into his palm and opened it, his fingers guiding the blade so that the move was silent.

With the grace of a dancer and the rapidity of a striking cobra, his arm unfolded and the knife left his hand. Brandon did not even see the harpy coming. The blade entered his trachea with a muffled sound and severed his carotid. He gasped with surprise but the air never reached his lungs. Out of reflex, his hands dropped the gun and went to his throat. His vision first got troubled, then everything around him darkened. His legs weakened and gave in. He was dead before he touched the floor.

Clarice had seen every single move Hannibal had made. She had stood perfectly still until she heard Brandon' s body hit the ground. Only after, did she authorize herself to look at him. He was laying in a fetal position, his hands still on his throat, a pool of blood rapidly growing under his head. She crouched down next to him and pushed away his gun. It was more out of habit, for she knew he could no more use it. She turned her face to Hannibal.

He was standing straight near the desk, motionless. "Hannibal ?" she asked softly. But he didn't move an eyelid. Nor did he answer to her. He was very pale. Clarice moved closer to Brandon and started to search his pockets for the keys of her handcuffs. She finally got her hands on them and managed to free herself. She stood. Hannibal was still completely immobile. His eyes were pointing in her direction but he did not seem to see her.

Clarice was more worried now that she had been with Brandon' s gun on her skin. She carefully got closer to her lover. "Hannibal ?" she repeated louder, trying to get his attention. When she was close enough, she put her hand on his cheek. His skin was cold. Clarice had already seen that kind of expressions before: he was in shock. She put her arms around him and hugged him. But his body was as rigid as a corpse. She hold him tighter and whispered soothing words in his ears.

Hannibal had retired far inside his memory palace, some sixty years before, in a wooden barn, during a cold winter in Lithuania. A little girl was gesticulating in a soldier' s arms, screaming his name, desperately asking him for help. He had not been able to save Mischa. He was much too young and the deserters much too strong for him.

But he had grown up. And made sure nobody would be able to hurt anyone he loved again. It had been easy ... Basically because he never let anybody get close enough to him. No personal attachments ... Except for Jason. He had been able to protect Jason for almost seventeen years. Until ... In the last two weeks, the life of his son had been endangered and the only woman he had ever loved had been ... The image of Clarice with Brandon' s gun pointed on her neck suddenly replaced the one of his sister. He had almost lost her ...

The warmth of her body on his progressively brought him back to reality. He heard her voice gently whispering. He only caught her last sentence but the three magic words blew life in his veins again. "I love you".

Clarice felt his muscles relax very slightly. He looked down at her, bewildered as if he had just woken up from a very long sleep. "Clarice ..." he murmured. She stroke his cheek with the back of her hand. "Yes, Hannibal. I'm here ...". His hand flew to her hair and caressed it cautiously, as if to check she was real.

" - Clarice, are you all right ?" he asked hesitantly.
" - I'm OK ... It's you I'm worried about.
- I'm fine. Don't worry. It's just ... I guess I had not quite realized how much I love you."

He pulled her closer and pressed his lips on hers. He kissed her with more passion he had ever before. Clarice felt as if he was breathing her in. Her feet left the floor and she grabbed his neck.

When their mouth finally parted for need of air he delicately put her down. They stared at each other.

" - Can we leave now, Hannibal ?" she asked.
" - Yes, my love. I am ready now."

He took the things he had prepared and they left. Nobody ever heard of Hannibal Lecter or Clarice Starling again.




Epilog

Clarice was leaning against a wooden beam on the terrace, a mug of hot coffee in her hands, letting the sun warm her naked shoulders.

Even from a hundred yards distance, she heard Billy burst out laughing with this incredibly pure laugh only children can have. She waved back at the little boy. Today, Hannibal was giving him his first riding lesson. He was sitting proudly on a black and white pony his father had bought just for him.

Their son ... Even now Clarice had difficulties believing her new life was real, and not just a dream that would fade in the morning.

William Hannibal Lecter ... It had been Hannibal' s idea to name him by her father. He had told her he wanted to free her from her demons the way she had freed him from his.

And yet, Billy was all his father. He had his hair, his eyes, and the same incredible way to tilt his head to his side whenever something puzzled him. At only three, he was fluent in Portuguese and in English, and was starting to read. He had the same inquisitive look hannibal had, that made even the strongest adults uncomfortable.

Hannibal was walking next to the pony, glancing at her from time to time. The night before, he had announced to her they would have to leave Brazil soon. He felt they had stayed there long enough and that it would be safer for them to move. He had seemed concerned by her possible reaction but he had nothing to worry about. She had loved her life there, but only because they were together. It did not matter where they were, as long as he was with her.

Hannibal Lecter had long ago become Clarice' s Starling only home.



- The End -

That's it, folks. I hope you enjoyed the trip ...
Absolut.