Shattered Life

Part seven – Feeling blue, seeing red

After being separated from his beloved Clarice, Hannibal had begun his journey back to join her in America.

Getting home meant staying safe. After climbing out of the icy waters of the Venice canals Hannibal had been left with precious little that would help him accomplish his new challenge. A harpy in his sleeve and a few notes in his pocket – most likely soaked and unusable. He needed supplies from the city that had been his home after his escape from the confining cell he was forced to stay in, in Memphis. Hannibal was always prepared and scattered throughout the world were emergency rations he may need one day. So the first stage of his journey. Drive to Florence.

Even when you're one of America's most wanted fugitives it is always so much nicer to travel in style. While the FBI were chasing their tails looking at airport reservations in Venice Hannibal was cruising south in a black Jaguar towards the city where art was most beautiful. He had not returned since he had begun a new life with Clarice and as the time he had was restricted he would not be able to take in the sites. But perhaps one day.

Hannibal's thoughts were now drifting back to Clarice. What were the officers asking her right now? He knew more of what her response would be like? She would make up a nice little story about how big bad Hannibal Lecter had captured her and locked her up and that she knew no details about locations, times or where he was now so they would have to let her go. No doubt she had cooked up a nice little scenario she could tell them but what was she thinking about deep down. Him? Scenarios, exchanges, fucking him. Unlikely. Probably more worry, anxiety and her stomach churning wanting to know if he was alive and if so where he was. On the heel of that thought Hannibal pressed firmly down on the accelerator sending dust flying as he sped off towards his destination.

The journey took 3 days, very little sleep and the exchange of the Jaguar for a much less prestigious Toyota. After arriving Hannibal immediately headed for his old place of work the Palazzo Capponi where he had been the curator. Nothing seemed to have changed and so he waited till dusk fell on the city before breaking in to the building an ascending the stairs. It is easier than you think to find something in old desolate ruins but in a building such as this brimming with books, texts and other assorted items one could hide something and guarantee it would remain away from the watchful eyes of any nosey busybody until a generation of young children had grown up.

In one of the smaller rooms that was only used really as a store for all those things yet to be looked at or worthless items that had no purpose and could not be sold Hannibal lifted up several of the rather old floorboards disturbing dust that had been building for a very long time into a small cloud. Reaching into the small space and slightly to the left he hooked his arm under the handles of a black unmarked sports bag and dragged slowly into view before replacing the floorboards and backing out to make a quiet exit.

"Who's there? I'm warning you come on out or I'll blow your brains out when I find you"

Hannibal had not counted on the apparent new curator taking a midnight stroll down the halls. Although unable to see the potential threat Hannibal new from the gruff sounding voice he was likely an older man. Maybe he didn't even have a gun but assuming things only led to trouble. Conscious a death in the heart of Florence was likely to send the FBI running to investigate Hannibal silent as the darkening night crept out of the room listening to try an locate the new curator. He didn't have to try very hard. Confident even the most amateur burglar could avoid the wheezing and creaking floor boards caused by this man Hannibal waited until he passed, mumbling under his breath whilst shining a low powered torch to and fro, before retracing his steps back down the stairs and out into the street.

Hannibal woke on the morning 5 days after the separation in a small motel on the edge of town. He had had his first proper night of sleep in quite a long time and was dismayed to see the clock already showed 11:55 in the morning. He showered and dressed quickly thankful he now had several changes of clothes in the bag he had retrieved. Nestled under shirts and trousers was no less than £10,000 in cash, several passports and other forged documents in a variety of names, a small gun, glasses, wigs, cell phone, rope and a copy of Dante's Inferno – one always needs something good to read to pass the time.

Confident he was now well equipped to continue his journey to find Clarice Hannibal drove to the nearest airport arriving just before 2 o'clock. A quick trip saw him enter the mens room as Hannibal Lecter and exit as Miguel DeLuigi. An Italian visiting relatives in Washington. The disguise allowed the purchase of one of the few remaining tickets to Washington on a plane departing at 8 o'clock. Sitting in a coffee shop Hannibal slowly watched the clock tick by until his planes departure was imminent. All was going to plan and the plane would land on American soil early morning giving him three weeks before Clarice was due to meet him.

Settling back on the plane Hannibal had to let his mind wander to escape the cries of children and shrill questioning of the stewardesses. Flying was by nowhere the most interesting of activities especially when travelling alone and Hannibal had always found when Clarice was with him time seemed to 'fly by'. He had continually teased her for that awful pun.

As the plane touched down Hannibal was stirred awake by the hustle and bustle of the other tourists sorting out children, luggage and paper work for connecting flights. He leisurely strolled out pleased to be closer to Clarice. The disguise abandoned in the nearest mens room Hannibal would now pick up a car and drive to the safe house located in Clarice's home state of West Virginia. He had purchased it on his last stay in America before Mason's late associates had shoved him into a van to be driven off and served as pig's dinner.

The sun was just rising as the airport doors swung open letting Hannibal step out into the chilly morning air. He walked steadily down the road before he felt the blow impact on the side of his head. Stumbling sideways strong arms grabbed him forcing a cloth over his face. Hannibal desperately tried to fight, his arms flailing only once connected with his assailant but it was too late. And so 4 days before Clarice was rushed to hospital Hannibal's world also faded to black as once again he was dragged and shoved into the back of a car.

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Sorry it has taken so long to update.

More action coming up in the next chapter.

Reviews much appreciated.

xxkatyxx

Disclaimer: The plot is mine but the characters belong to Thomas Harris.