Staring sightlessly out at the scenery, Red sat beside the woman, his thoughts his own.
He could feel the tension emanating from Elizabeth. Well, it had been a tense few days... what did he expect.
How should Elizabeth be reacting to the emotional turmoil? As if Carver wasn't bad enough, and God knows the maniacal bastard was evil incarnate, Lizzy now had the situation with Francis with which to contend.
The mood inside the car was depressing as hell for Red. He could only imagine how Lizzy was feeling.
She felt as though she lost her best-friend... on top of the rest of the shit life had thrown her way of late.
Stirring beside him, Liz stretched her leg out, grimacing absently before settling into the seat.
"You want to talk about it?" Red ventured finally, hoping against hope the woman would.
The blue eyes turned his way. She tried to smile, which failed to reach those eyes. "I'm okay, Red. The bastard is dead, he can't hurt us any–"
"I mean," he stopped her short, "the other little bastard, Francis."
Liz's face fell. She lowered her head, her hands playing absently with some unseen object, the long tresses obscuring her face.
"Don't..." she sought Red out, her expression troubled. "Don't be mad at him. He has a perfect right to–"
"No! He doesn't!" Red snapped his own disillusionment, but seeing Lizzy's sad little face... he settled. "He has no right to doubt you. None!"
She returned to her pastime. "What can he think, but that we've betrayed him?" She bemoaned.
"How the hell have we done that?" Red wanted to know.
"Well, I mean..." Liz could see it from Francis' point-of-view, "what other reason could there be, you bringing a Fed into their midst. He probably thinks we're trying to get something on him... or worse yet, his organization."
"I know everything there is to know about the organization." Red disdained. "If I wanted to bring his ass down... I wouldn't need you to accomplish it."
"Francis is very loyal." The woman blinked back tears. "He expects others to return that loyalty. In his eyes... maybe we haven't." She shrugged meekly. "...I haven't." She whispered.
"He's being an asshole." Red stated his opinion succinctly. "I'll let him know in no uncertain terms how I view his behavior... when I see him again."
"I wish you wouldn't." Liz was miserable enough. "I never once thought I would be a point of contention between you and Francis. I hate it has come to this, Red!" She swallowed the threat of tears. "I hate it."
Red softened. "You've had enough for one day." He realized. "Hell, you've had enough for a lifetime. Let's table this for a while; until you get physically stronger, okay?"
Lizzy fell silent.
Red caught a glimpse of the object in her hands. It was a bracelet Francis had bought for Lia just as the two hit the rocks.
After the young woman had left the scene, Francis had carelessly tossed the expensive bauble Lizzy's way one day.
"I lost the sales receipt." The young man had grumbled, shrugging forlorn shoulders. "You might as well make some use of it."
"Francis! I couldn't!" Lizzy clearly thought the object lovely. "... Really." She offered it back.
Francis grimaced. "Take it, it'll be like a friendship thing. But you gotta buy me one, but masculine, like... you know. None of that girlie shit."
Lizzy's face showed her delight. "I wouldn't do, girlie shit, not for you." She took objection for the insinuation as the young man fastened the bracelet on her wrist. "Hey...I could get you that Iron Man watch you were talking about the other day!" She teased.
Francis shrugged agreeably. "Yeah... that was pretty cool."
Red had thought the exchange was amusing.
He wasn't amused now.
Arriving at the airport, leaving their bags to Dembe and Ben's capable hands, Red gingerly helped Lizzy up the steep steps to board the jet. What with her leg wound and his side, they made a pair he imagined, hobbling as best they could.
"Would you like to stretch out on the couch?" Red asked, already guiding the woman to the intended seat.
Hesitating in her steps, Liz shook her head negatively, adamantly gesturing. "No...no, I want to sit by you."
Frowning for the woman's sullen tone, understanding dawned on Red a moment later. It was the seat of Francis' choice on most flights. Should the man make an appearance, Lizzy wished the seat be available.
"Probably better you sit upright, now that you mention it." Red agreed, helping the woman down into the soft cushion. Lifting the leg rest, he reclined the seat to a comfortable position.
Slowly easing a pillow beneath the woman's injured leg, he watched Elizabeth's expression closely for any sign of pain. But the woman only sighed her relief, then relaxed back into the comfort provided.
Grabbing Lizzy's favorite tea and blanket, Red saw to the woman's comfort, offering her a soft smile.
"I have to check with the pilots," Red gestured, "confirm our take-off. Just rest easy, all right."
"...Okay," Liz nodded. Laying her head back, she closed her eyes, releasing a slow, measured breath.
Retiring to his duties, Red retreated to the cockpit. He also managed to enquire of the pilots' families, activities during their downtime... anything to kill time. He waited anxiously, knowing he was deliberately delaying the flight.
As the minutes ticked by and Dembe and Ben finally came shuffling aboard, alone... it was obvious Francis was not going to show.
Needless to say, Red felt sorrow for Elizabeth, but also extreme anger at Francis Holbrook.
Damn the man!
Thanking the pilots, Red shut the door, grumbling under his breath. "Gonna kill the little bastard with my bare hands!"
"Something wrong?" Ben asked, slowly nearing the cabin, a concerned look greeting Red's arrival.
Shaking his head, Red's eye ticked as he glanced over Ben's shoulder... finding Elizabeth staring hopefully at the still opened doorway.
Shifting his attention, Ben grimaced taking in the expression on Lizzy's face. "This is a shitty situation all around."
Casting a subtle glance Dembe's way, Red's tight expression asked the rhetorical question.
Dembe offered an imperceptible shake of his head, shutting the door just as the jet fired to life.
Red felt his heart ache painfully in his chest watching Lizzy's face crumble before shifting saddened eyes to her lap. Exhaling a shaky breath, the woman's shoulders shuddered with the heavy breath, expelling her disappointment and despair.
"Fucking idiot!" Red grated his anger. "I'm gonna strangle his scrawny neck!"
"Francis' been thrown a loop, Red." Ben muttered, voicing reason. "He'll come around."
"I'd say he's too fucking late!" Red hissed quietly, side-stepping Ben's position as the plane began to roll down the runway.
Heading for his seat, Red secured his belt before jerkily straightening his vest; his mind swirling on an endless loop.
Clasping Lizzy's hand in his, Red stroked the woman's fingers comfortingly as they lifted high into the sky.
As they leveled off, Red eased closer, lifting his arm that Lizzy could rest against him.
Shifting towards the man, Liz lay her cheek against Red's form, listening to the evened beating of his heart.
Red's eyes closed painfully when he felt the slight trembling in Lizzy's frame. At length, the heat of the woman's tears dampened his shirt.
Resting his cheek atop Lizzy's crown, Red kissed the woman's dark hair...
Damning Francis Holbrook for all he was worth.
And so the hours passed...
Glancing out the window into the night sky, Red watched the ground grow closer before he felt the gentle bump of the jet touch the ground.
Dembe and Ben quietly closed their books, finishing their drinks as they bumped down the long stretch of runway.
The flight had been a miserable one; all sensed Lizzy's doldrums, and were affected by them.
Finishing his own drink, Red smiled softly at his companion. The plane slowed and crept towards the hangar.
"Why don't you rest here while we unload the luggage and..." Red trailed off, sighing down at the absentminded female he had on his hands.
"Lizzy, we're here." He tried again.
Liz slowly gathered her things, following the man's lead.
The car was as silent as the flight had been. Red missed the usual chatter... the constant exchanges between Elizabeth and the others present.
Usually, the woman was effervescent and cheerful; asking questions, making observations about everything under the sun.
Ben valiantly tried to start a few promising conversations, but Lizzy hadn't joined in as she normally did.
Just sat... watching the scenery pass by.
"We have company."
Red's head jerked about as Dembe adjusted his mirror that Red could see the car in question.
"Wow... the typical black SUV." Red huffed. "No one would notice that particular type of car."
Ben watched the vehicle from his side mirror. "Who knows we're here?"
"Anyone over listening at Donovan's as we left." Dembe narrowed it down.
"Or maybe..." Red's mouth tightened, "somebody already knew."
Liz took offense. "Francis wouldn't do something like that."
"Yeah?" Red wasn't so sure. He would have bet the man would never turn his back on Lizzy. "I'll alert Silas to the recent development."
Moments later, he had done just that.
"Are you telling me that little fucker is trying something with you?" Silas' tone was tight as the accusation sunk in. "... With Liz in the car?"
"We don't know who it is!" Liz leaned, snapping her opinion. "You guys stop be mean to Francis, this is not him!"
"I'm gonna rip his head off and shit down his throat." Silas' opinion differed slightly, apparently. "Wait til I get my hands on that damn chicken neck of his! I'll snap him like a twig!"
The guy was already alerting his security people with curt, meaningful hand gestures, all of which Joe read easily.
"We're on our way.."
"We'll head to the warehouse." Red had conferred with Dembe. "We're close and it's a suitable spot for a fire-fight if it comes to that."
"I know the place..." Silas was loading himself down with essentials, stuffing his jacket pockets with ammo and weapons of every sort. "ETA, twenty minutes. Hold out until we arrive."
Absently putting his cell away, Red sat back, kinking the tension from his neck, checking on his companion.
"This is not," Liz's features were set and rigid, "Francis Holbrook!"
"I'm gonna break both his legs..." Silas' tirade continued, full swing, as he and Joe hurriedly made their way to the convoy of vehicles.
His people were already waiting; prepared and unemotional faces, and stable and calm mind-sets greeted his arrival.
Silas wasn't surprised. He expected security to be the best around, and they were. He could concentrate on more important things...
"I'm gonna rip his face off and feed it to Keres!"
"I think Keres prefers catnip and tuna fish." Joe helpfully reminded.
"Shut up!" Silas snapped. "I'm gonna end that bitch wanker. He'll be cat food after I've finished with him!"
Silas pulled up short, a deeper, darker scowl creasing his handsome face.
All eyes turned towards the approaching cavalcade of vehicles.
Silas' men assumed defensive positions. The man himself stood strong, simply waiting the situation out. His grey eyes never leaving the approaching danger.
Joe stood firm, both men's faces steeling to a studious placidity.
The lead car pulled to a slow halt, meters away. A passenger emerged.
Silas' brow deepened upon recognition of said passenger.
Francis Holbrook crossed to the back of the car, opening the rear door.
Antonio Crocetti slid into view, the distinguished gentleman waving his men, those who had hauled out of the other vehicles... to stand down.
Holbrook and Crocetti turned their attention on all the commotion the security offered.
Silas waved a dismissive, curt hand, and the commotion stopped. The head guard exchanged looks with Joe.
"If it's not Francis tailing Red..." Joe put their thoughts into words, "... who is?"
Silas called out, his annoyance clearly transmitted by his tone. "Yeah, what the hell are you doing here... you fucking little traitor!"
Antonio seemed confused.
"Not you..." Silas jabbed towards the little fucking traitor, "... you!"
Francis' brow furrowed, scratching his nape absently.
Antonio nudged the man to reply.
"You mean here... here?" Francis pointed accordingly. "Oh, there's an explanation for that. I mean... I can explain why I'm here."
Antonio waited patiently, then not-so-much so. "Tell them, boy!" He glanced thoughtfully to the many weapons pointed their way. "And don't mince words when you do it."
"I got a problem." Francis' tone was unusually stoic... subdued, which gave Antonio Crocetti pause for thought.
"Your problems are my problems." Antonio replied evenly, settling in for the long haul, sipping his scotch.
"This is serious shit." Francis' voice sounded depressed, out-of-sorts. "I'm reeling here, I gotta tell you. Never in a million years would I have envisioned what's come down, Antonio."
Antonio sat up, his attention caught. "Tell me."
"It's... Elizabeth. Elizabeth Scott." Francis swallowed hard. Trying to keep the emotions bombarding him to himself.
"Raymond's fiancé..." Antonio nodded he was following so far. "What about her? Is she all right?" The man allowed his concern.
"Yeah..." Francis confirmed. "She's also a Fed." The words sounding just as shitty as they actually were in his world. "And Red... Reddington knows. He's always fucking known!"
Antonio digested. He sat back, taking a quiet moment. "...I see."
"I don't see!" Francis was devastated. "I don't fucking see at all! How... why would he do this to us! Why?"
"What exactly has he done?" Antonio smiled, nodding his gratitude when his flight attendant offered an in-flight snack.
"What?!" Francis was... stunned. "Y-You know the implications. I don't have to tell you."
"Just as I do not have to tell you," Antonio calmly reminded, "if Reddington wanted to bring us down, he certainly wouldn't need outside help to do the deed."
Francis... blinked. "I... I," his mind was muddled, confused. "What?"
"No, there is another agenda. One of which we do not know."
"What other agenda could there be?" Francis was getting upset again. Antonio's calm, reassuring tone had served to nullify his worst fears, but now...
Antonio rolled exasperated eyes for the boy's shortsightedness.
"If you don't know," Antonio muttered, ignoring Francis' mindless chatter, "I propose," the older man 'proposed', "...we go ask the man."
Francis fell silent.
"I will pick you up, I am in transit." Antonio glanced at his watch. "I can be in the great state of Texas in forty-five minutes. Meet me at Donovan's airstrip."
The older man hung up the phone, returning to his scotch.
"I didn't want the War and Peace version," Silas barked, motioning jerkily to his men. "Red needs our help... get the hell out of the way so we can go about ours."
"We will assist." Antonio was a master decision maker. With one insignificant gesture, his men dispersed, the vehicles pulling rapidly but orderly from the property.
The procession waited patiently until Silas' men had moved down the street... only then did they fall into line.
Red watched the car's approach. The one lone car which had followed them into the fence-lined property had sat patiently outside the perimeter until several others arrived.
Dembe exchanged unconcerned glances with Red. Both men had taken vigilance by different windows of the vast warehouse they now inhabited.
Red glanced at his watch, grumbling under his breath. "Where the hell is Silas... if he's stopped for his fucking coffee again..."
He studied the odds. Even now men were approaching the building, stealthily moving from one place of concealment to the next.
"I should have seen this coming."
"You should." Dembe agreed. "But you have had other concerns of late.
Red sign-songed his head. It was true, Carver had taken his mind off the mundane for a while.
"You were injured, honey." Liz reminded from her perch on a dusty table to his right. "That's bound to mess with anyone's state of mind."
"Well... okay." Red stated, "but, see... when I made that statement, which both of you so promptly jumped upon with totally uncalled for remarks... I was being facetious."
"Oh..." Liz lifted a thoughtful countenance, then grimaced. "My leg is starting to hurt." She moved the appendage to a different position.
Dembe thoughtfully moved a chair over for her use. She smiled thankfully at the guy, propping her leg.
"Why, thank you, Dembe. That's so much better." Liz sighed her relief. "While you're being facetious," she turned her attention Red's way, "armed men are slithering their way to our location... and is anyone watching?" The woman lifted a curt brow.
"Ben's watching." Red informed her.
All three individuals sought out the young man. Sensing all eyes on him, Ben snapped from his zoned stupor.
"Sorry, I was trying to count them," Ben said, "but it was like counting sheep... made me sleepy." He shrugged as an afterthought. "I hope Silas brings pizza." He said glumly, leaning against a nearby post... a glum look on his face. "I'm getting hungry."
Red cleared his throat gently.
Dembe sighed heavily.
Liz compressed her lips, hiding the need to smile.
Red consulted his watch... again. "Yeah," he nodded amiably, "gonna kill the guy."
Where the hell was Silas?!
"How long are we gonna be here?" Liz fidgeted about restlessly. "I was so looking forward to getting home, Red."
"Yes... I know, dear." Red played along, easing his weapon from its snug home at his back. He checked the clip automatically.
It was Dembe's turn to smile, for he was unaware if Raymond did so to ready himself for the oncoming onslaught... or to tease Elizabeth.
"Well, all I'm saying is, I know that's not Francis out there." Liz was certain. "He doesn't have any patience. They would have already been knocking down the door."
"That door is not so easily knocked down." Red knew from experience.
"You're missing my point..." Liz turned her nose upright.
"No, darling. I am not." Red disagreed, purposely provoking the woman, hoping to keep the moment light. "Either way, I will see to it we get you tucked in at home, posthaste."
Liz crossed her arms, sending the man a withering look. She casually pulled her own weapon, resting it upon her thigh absently... her smile a sweet one.
Withholding his own smile, Red was actually relieved Lizzy was handling this debacle so well.
"It's about show time, Lizzy." He held her eyes steadily. "You want to take cover?"
"Oh..." she sighed, sliding off her perch, "yeah... good call, I guess." The woman sought a suitable vantage point for any return fire she might deliver.
"What's going on?" Ben took the extra firearm handed him, tucking it in his waistband.
"Well, we're surrounded by enemy agents..." Red began.
"At least they ain't zombies." Ben dismissed. "I meant, do I go high," he motioned to the upper floor of the warehouse, above the approaching enemy, "... or low." He ducked his head to the bottom floor.
"Let them enter, for they will." Dembe directed. "We have a decided vantage point here."
"Ben..." Red caught the man's attention, "in all likely hood, that's Francis out there."
"No, it's not." Ben disagreed without hesitation.
"See, I told you." Liz added her two cents.
"If it is Francis..." Red gave Lizzy a scolding look. "He's your friend..." He pointed out the obvious, "are you sure you want to involve yourself in this?"
"Oh..." Ben scowled over the news, nodding thoughtfully after a beat, "...yeah, sure."
Red dropped his chin for the thoughtless reply.
"Look, if it is Francis, which it isn't," Ben said, "then we'll see what kind of friend he is." He reasoned.
Red frowned, not quite following that logic.
"I mean, it's not like he's warned me this was coming and to not shoot at his dumb ass." Ben reasoned. "For all I know, this is just one of your many enemies coming at us."
"It makes perfect sense to me." Liz agreed. "You do piss off a lot of people, Red." She added helpfully.
Red could argue that sense and rationale were not part of Francis' vocabulary, but time was of the essence.
From their location, all the warehouse was visible. The intruders would invariably enter through the offices below, an easily accessible point-of-entry.
Red had anticipated that.
The dock doors were too heavy to open manually, and they had blocked the side doors that plenty of notice would be given if they were breeched.
The tinkle of glass alerted everyone to the enemy's advancement and location.
Red smiled at Elizabeth, who was well hid in the shadows of a steel door to his left now.
She was checking her weapon, seemingly relaxed and patiently awaiting her fate.
Red retreated into his own place of hiding. "Yeah," he sighed lightly, "Silas must die."
The movement below was discernable. The bastards weren't even trying for stealth now.
The air crackled with tension... expectation.
Red's keen eyes caught sight of a few men in dark clothing below, carefully moving forward.
An eerie quiet settled about the enormous space.
Red waited patiently. Was this what one called... a pregnant pause? The man's tolerance for bullshit theatrics was nonexistent today, but what the hell... any time he could buy for Silas... the dead guy...
"You are a lot of things, Raymond." The words echoed in the warehouse. "Traitor, liar, indiscriminate murderer. I never took you for a coward."
Red rolled his eyes, immediately recognizing the sanctimonious bastard spouting the diatribe.
Liz fidgeted about, searching in vain for the source of the disembodied voice.
"Still the self-righteous hypocrite, I see, Constantine." Red's tone held his amusement. "Pot calling the kettle black?" He queried. "What the hell do you want this time?"
"My life back!" Constantine bellowed, the self-satisfied smirk of moments before a thing of the past.
"What has that to do with me." Red was puzzled. "Have you tried Genies-R-Us. Maybe they can grant a wish or two. Don't foolishly waste your chances now!"
Dembe sighed, shaking his head. The guy could have been waiting for a bus, he showed that much disinterest in the proceedings.
"Why would you want to relive your pitiful existence anyhow, it wasn't that memorable." Red goaded purposely.
"Enough!" Constantine hissed his growing impatience and ire. "Give my daughter over!"
"I knew that was coming." Red remarked sotto voce to Dembe. "How about you?"
"He is quite predictable." Dembe nodded slowly.
"Red?" Liz shifted anxiously. "What is this guy talking about?"
"You, Lizzy." Red didn't deflect. "He's talking about... you."
Liz scowled incredulously. "I don't even know that man!"
"In a way... you do." Red replied evenly.
"No, I don't." She was positive.
"He's Katarina's husband." Red filled in the blank. "Constantine Rostov, aka; Alexander Kirk."
Liz processed. "So... what the hell does that have to do with me!"
"Katarina told Constantine he was your father," Red explained, "to cover her affair with your real father... remember."
"That's mom all right." Liz smiled pleasantly.
"Raymond," something was troubling Dembe, "Constantine saw Elizabeth with her true father once, did he not."
"Oh, the night of the fire," Liz recalled triumphantly, "yeah, right. I remember you said that."
"So what's this loony tune talking about?" Ben needed to know.
"Perhaps he is delusional." Dembe suggested. "Perhaps his illness has affected his mind."
"Or he's grasping at the proverbial straw." Red mumbled.
"That's not... really helpful." Liz said, scowling at the man.
"Stop stalling, Reddington!"
Liz gasped her shock and consternation which quickly dissolved into abject disdain, hearing that very familiar voice.
"Oh, my god!" she flared instantly. "I should have known!"
"Yes, you should have." Dembe agreed readily.
"You sanctimonious, manipulative, low-life..." Liz stopped, no word bad enough coming to mind. "Someone help me out here..."
Red, Dembe, and Ben helpfully racked their brains for a spell. Dembe opened his mouth to oblige, but Liz's mind had clicked.
"Duplicitous, conniving, sack-of-shit!" Her voice lifted to a feverish pitch.
Red allowed his admiration, a smile lighting his face. "Baby's on a roll." He couldn't keep the pride from his voice. "I am more than slightly aroused."
Ben chuckled appreciatively for the remark.
"How dare you show your face to me after what you've done!" Liz growled her disdain.
"All I have ever done, Liz... is try to show you how much you mean to me." Tom placated.
"Step out into the open, you chickenshit," Liz waited with bated breath, "I'll show you what you mean to me," she dared the man as another thought came to mind, "... and don't think I don't know it was you writing those creepy-ass psychotic letters, you psycho!"
"I wanted you to know I was thinking of you." Tom beseeched. "That I was trying to find a way to you..." he softened his tone.
Liz's face morphed into incredulous disbelief.
"I needed you to know I hadn't abandoned you, babe." Tom persisted.
"You're a sick, twisted, psychotic bastard with delusions of grandeur!" Liz wasn't shy about stating her own thoughts. She sought Red out. "Is it me?" She asked plaintively.
"No, sweetheart... it isn't you." Red mollified immediately.
"Damned right it's not!" She turned on her adversary. "You sick, twisted goat fucker!"
Red rubbed weary eyes, chuckling under his breath.
"You need professional help!" Liz was pretty sure. "You psycho!"
"You're repeating yourself, Elizabeth." Dembe pointed out.
"You're not helping, Dembe!" Liz pouted, more upset by the fact... the guy was right.
"Stop all this nonsense!" Constantine's voice boomed over the tirade. "Enough! Send her out, Reddington! Or we... will come fetch her!"
"Fetch her?" Liz repeated shrilly.
Red calmed her with a motion. "Let me guess," he finished with a flair, "we're surrounded with no help in sight... and no possible means of escape, right?"
Ben chuckled for the guy's style.
"Elizabeth," Constantine tried another route, "...Masha, please listen to–"
"Don't call me that!" Elizabeth's abrasive tone snarled the warning. "That is not my name! I have nothing to say to you or that sociopath you brought with you!"
"I think we have much to discuss... so much common ground we share." Kirk reasoned. "Are you not interested to know of your mother? We have lost so much time, my darling child."
"Well, let me tell you my perspective on my loving parents." Liz held her rage in check, barely. "You know, the ones that used me for their own agenda? Just like you are wanting to do, right? No, I'm not particularly interested in learning more about them... or you. Thanks for asking."
"I don't know what Reddington... the lies he has told you." Kirk began, only to be waylaid.
Red glanced at his watch. "You mean the lie about you hiring Carver?"
Liz's mouth dropped, the blue eyes widening with shocked comprehension.
"Carver was for you, you bastard!" Kirk belched his fury. "He was never to touch Masha!"
Red glanced towards Elizabeth as both listened to the unintentional confession.
"Someone should have told that deranged lunatic," Red advised. "Seems he liked to improvise as he went along."
"Oh my god," Tom's voice shook with remorse. "He... he didn't hurt you, did he, babe?"
Liz's head fell back. "If he calls me that one more time..." she lifted her weapon meaningfully.
"I didn't know, Lizzy. I would have never..." Tom's voice trailed off.
"So," Red nodded grimly, "it was you." The realization came out of the stilted silence.
Liz closed her eyes, a wave of nausea overtaking her.
"Katarina... my father," she whispered, "that idiot," Tom was pointed out, "this new joker." She lifted haunted eyes. "Red, they damage all they touch... everything!"
Red eyes softened.
"Carver was to rid you of Reddington's filth, Liz." Tom defended his actions.
"He was to inflict as much suffering as Reddington has on those around him, Masha!" Kirk spat his indignation. "Had I known that bastard would turn on you, I would have killed Carver myself, beloved!"
"You don't have the balls!" Liz spat right back. "Red ended him... Red protected me. Where the hell were you when the shit hit the fan!" She scoffed. "Words are easy... actions speak volumes. Red was there for me. He has always been there!"
"And he always will be." Red's eyes had held the woman's the entire time she spoke.
"The rest of you... well, you can go fuck yourselves! I'm tired of being a puppet!" Liz held back her tears. "I hate you all! I hope you die!" She slammed her hand hard against the wall beside her. "Go to hell!"
"Don't say that, Liz!" Tom stated vehemently. "I love you... I-I fell in love with you even when they told me I couldn't!"
"Listen, and listen well, jackass. Nothing you have to say is of any interest to me what-so-ever!" Liz clenched her fists tight at her side. "Can I make this more clear? You want me to stitch it on a pillow for you!"
Red lifted amused brows. "Can anyone else hear Silas' influence at work here... or is it just me?"
Dembe consulted his watch. "Speaking of Silas..." The man lifted a meaningful brow.
"You don't mean that!" Tom pleaded. "You're confused right now, that's all."
"Do you believe this asshole?" Liz was aghast.
"He's a great little rationalizer." Red chuckled the stress away. "Consider the source, Lizzy."
Red checked with his companions. Ben was offering a lopsided grin. He was at his best when being tested.
"Dembe," Red questioned, "you okay?"
"Why would I not be?" Dembe seemed puzzled, which amused Red.
"Lizzy..." He inquired solicitously.
"My leg hurts, I'm starving," she replied evenly, "and I have to pee... you?"
"I can hold it." Red teased, proud of his constituents, truth told. They were handling this tense moment with remarkable aplomb.
"Masha, please..." Kirk interrupted the pleasant interval. "If we could only speak..."
"Okay," Liz took in a cleansing breath, "leave...me... the... fuck... alone." She enunciated each word clearly so even imbeciles could understand. "I don't know how much more clearly I can paint my disdain for you... both of you!"
Her voice carried in the vast, empty space.
"I refuse to give up on you, Masha." Kirk's tone was patience personified.
Liz's head fell back melodramatically.
"Don't you just feel like screaming into a pillow." Ben commiserated.
Her fiery eyes shifted towards Red. "If you don't kill him," she muttered tightly, "...I will."
"Masha, I just want us to have the years Reddington stole from us." Kirk's voice managed a tremor of regret.
Red was impressed... for all of two seconds. "Are you sure it's not that," he stated his own outlook on the matter, "pesky blood disease of yours kicking in again, that is your driving force. Remissions come and go in your private little hell, don't they?"
Elizabeth's eyes widened at the implication as Red's words sank in. The soft tendrils of her hair swayed gently as she took in the scope of such selfish depravity.
"Katarina lied to you." Red put it on the line. "Face reality... get a grip. Elizabeth isn't going to be your own private guinea pig, you bastard."
The silence was deafening.
"There are no magic cures here." Red growled his growing dissension. "Stop trying to punish Elizabeth for Katarina's infidelity."
Leaning back on the wall for support, Kirk closed his eyes, lowering his head.
Liz shook her own head, a heated fury surging through her veins.
"You know what, you poor excuse for a human being," her tone was censored, her expression disturbed, "even if I were your daughter, God forgive me," she swallowed hard, "I wouldn't lift a finger to help you!"
She fought back tears, her expression sobering for she truly believed the statement. "I will not retract one word. Not one!"
Kirks's eyes were devoid of emotion when finally they lifted. The man scoffed silently, his features hardening.
"So be it." He muttered tightly. "Then I shall take what it is you refuse to give freely!"
"Liz!" Tom tried to be the voice of reason. He had seen Alexander's face. "You are not safe with Reddington! Why can't you see the truth!"
"You obviously wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the ass!" Liz was relatively sure. "Did you not just hear what your puppeteer just threatened me with!"
"Reddington's enemies are powerful." Tom continued, ignoring the woman's implication. "One day, they will take him down. I worry about what that day will mean for you, babe!"
"Well, if they take me out," Liz philosophized, "at least I'll be rid of your ass once and for all! Besides, Red's associates have protected and supported me. Can't say the same for you and the asshole beside you... can I!"
"Reddington," Tom's tone held a measure of fear, "you know I speak the truth. You have to send her away before it's too late!" He stressed. "You know it... you feel it! You have to sense the futility of any real future between you."
Kirk had enough, motioning for his men to close in.
Dembe motioned to Red... their time had run out.
Red curtly advised Elizabeth to return to the safety of her concealment. She, surprisingly, did so.
A concerted movement advanced from all sides. Red watched the tactical approach. The enemy adversaries darted about in all directions, converging like an army of fire ants.
Shots rang out in copious glory, the sounds amplified by the size of the cavernous space.
"Stay down, Elizabeth." Red warned just as the windows overlooking the dock floor crackled, then burst apart. The small sharp squares flew inward, spraying Red and his companions in the tinkling bits of sparkling glass.
Ducking low, each took a knee when the ceiling tiles above them tore apart. The large chunks fell haphazardly to the desks and floor; coating those below in a fine sheen of dust.
"Don't move!" Red demanded Lizzy stay hidden... safe. "We're fine." He assured.
Glancing hastily about, Red swiped his arm across a nearby desktop, sending paper and other items crashing to the floor.
"Ben..." Red gestured, grasping the corner of the desk.
Rushing for the area indicated, Ben took hold of the other end, heaving the desk to its side.
The sound of the thick metal scraping along the tiled floor echoed through the room, making everyone grimace for the unpleasant and grating sound.
Listening to the shots below ricochet about, Red shook his head in open annoyance. "Idiots..."
"What?" Ben scowled, positioning the desk for additional cover of Lizzy's hiding spot.
"They're trying to shoot through the floor." Red groused.
Ben hastily glanced at his crouched position in open concern... though he didn't feel anything. "Yeah... so?"
"It's concrete." Red's clipped reply spoke volumes. "...Idiots."
"Well, I'm not gonna tell 'em." Ben laughed. "You?"
Out of the corner of Red's eye, a shape blurred, then shifted into focus. Hurriedly aiming his weapon over Ben's shoulder.
Ben scrambled backwards out of the way as Red fired... hitting the intruder square in the chest.
Grabbing for the wound, the stranger toppled backwards, out of sight and down the metal stairs with a long, repeated clang.
"Don't shoot!" A man hissed.
Retaining his stance, Red's eyes flashed as Tom Keen poked his head through the opened doorway, arms held aloft.
Having worked his way through the chaos below, Tom found a sucker to use as advancement up the stairs to take the bullet he knew would be forthcoming.
Steadying his aim, Red smiled slowly, causing the younger man to hesitate in his steps.
"I can get her out." Tom spoke succinctly, his eyes never leaving Red's face. "Send her to me."
Red noted the fine sheen of sweat on the guy's face.
The odds were clearly stacked against them ever escaping such a deliberately calculated attack, Red hesitated uncharacteristically, weighing their options.
Maybe Lizzy's only hope was to–
"Don't even think about it." The woman's hissed threat came from her concealed position.
Tom transferred his attention to Liz. "Don't be stupid, there's no way out of this one and," he chanced a darted glance at Red, "he knows it!"
The silence was oppressive... ominous.
"There's always a way out." Liz begged to differ. "You just have to even up the odds."
"What the hell are you talking about!" Tom bitched, hastily looking over his shoulder as the sound of the weapons fire grew in intensity. "Let's go, dammit!"
Red was momentarily torn. Maybe...
Tom held out his hand. "I'll get you out..." He even managed a sincere smile. "I've got you, babe."
Liz held his eyes for a long beat.
Stepping forward, Liz's eyes narrowed... a shot reverberating from her weapon.
Tom's face registered his amazed incredulity, grasping at his pectoral region.
Stunned, Red watched the spread of red fluid ooze from between the man's clutched fingers.
Tom's eyes lifted, a haunted quality to the blueness.
Liz met the shocked expression stoically.
"No," she whispered almost chillingly, "I got you... babe." She fired her weapon once more.
Tom jerked back, his limp body free falling back down the only stairs attainable from their position. How the guy had managed a back route from the dock area, Red couldn't imagine.
Moot question now, he supposed.
"I said, stop calling me that... asshole." Liz's voice shook with disdain, looking down at Tom's crumbled, lifeless body.
Mouth agape, Red's gaze transferred from Tom to the stringently rigid female.
He studied the expressionless face with astonished wonderment... if not admiration.
Lowering the weapon to her side, Liz stepped back into concealment, her cold eyes as grave as Tom Keen's sightless ones
"Well," Red found his voice, forcing his focus, "... that just happened." He managed sotto voce.
The man exchanged dumfounded glances with Dembe.
Dembe took the incident in stride, as he did most things in life. "I did not expect... that."
Drawing in a cleansing breath, Red sought Elizabeth once more.
Another sound caught the man's attention, however, jerking his head ahead about. "That's coming from outside the perimeter."
Dembe kept a close watch on any would be invaders into their relative space of safety, turning his ear to the sounds below. Leveling off his firearm quickly, he felled a man attempting access via the staircase.
As handguns had been the weapons of choice up until this point, the distinct and repeated clink of semi-automatic weapons fire told Red and his compatriots all they needed to know.
"About fucking time!" Red felt relief flood his system.
Seconds later, Kirk's factions had more important things to address than their one assured objective.
Motioning Lizzy to stay put, Red shielded his face as a dazzling flash brightened the space below, just seconds before a large echoing boom reverberated through the warehouse, followed by another.
"Oh," Liz brightened, "Silas is here."
"Uh... yeah." Red crouched, rushing across the room towards Dembe.
The once concentrated gunfire scattered about as Kirk's men scrambled for cover. Once a majority of their attackers had pulled a goodly distance back, Red made his move.
It was time to clear the slate.
Red, Dembe and Ben moved fluidly in synchronized efficiency.
In moments, they gained the upper hand as Kirk's army retreated in all directions. Some even surrendered to Silas' superior forces.
Red's one goal in life was to make certain Alexander Kirk would never trouble Elizabeth again.
Stepping around a corner, Red and Dembe hastily averted their aim as Joe stepped into view.
"Liz?" Joe searched behind them frantically.
"Upstairs." Red directed sharply. "Announce yourself... she's armed and pissed." He warned.
Grinning, Joe offered a sharp nod and took off, Amir on his tail.
Moving stealthily through the carnage, Dembe hastily threw doors open wide as they encountered them... stepping back out of the way should Kirk open fire.
Red trained his sharp eyes, hurriedly sweeping the area for signs of the enemy.
Coming to the last room on the right, Dembe kicked out, sending the door flying inward just as a shot burst through the opened portal.
Hooking his arm about the doorframe, Red blindly fired his weapon in a wide arc until he heard the satisfying sound of a bullet hitting his unseen target and Kirk's cry of pain.
Peering around the door's edge, Red watched with grim satisfaction as Kirk stumbled forward. Throwing his arm out, the man attempted to catch his wayward fall, sending paperwork skittering about.
Hitting the slick surface of a desk, Kirk continued his uncontrolled fall to the floor. Grunting from the harsh impact, the man struggled to his side, straining to grasp his fallen gun.
Stepping, Dembe stood on the weapon and Kirk's fingers, weapon trained on the man's head.
Rubbing his hand against the grip of his weapon, Red stood over the pasty and sweating man, shaking his head in disgust.
"I warned you." His steely eyes glared at the man. "Elizabeth is off limits."
Glaring up at his captor, Kirk bared his teeth angrily. "Elizabeth is–"
Red fired, sending a bullet tearing through the man's skull... silencing the tirade before it could begin.
"Elizabeth is nothing to you..." Red hissed.
Dembe swung his arm about, training it on the opened doorway.
"Whoa...whoa," Ben hurriedly hid behind the door's frame, "it's just me."
Slowly lowering his weapon, Dembe waved the man inside. Stepping to the doorway, he watched Silas' men capture more of Kirk's troops.
Red stood over Kirk's body, his thoughts even and controlled.
"So... Carver is gone... Tom," Ben summed it all up pretty well, Red later thought. "This asshole." he shook his head. "You think they would learn from example," his handsome face scowled its confusion, "... your past enemies."
Red's eyes met Ben's plaintive ones.
"Sooner or later," Ben's muscular shoulders shrugged, "you always manage to come out on top. What is it they aren't comprehending?"
Red had not time to answer, or even digest the question when a sound from his left caught his attention.
Joe and Amir steadied Lizzy as they eased down the stairs, her arms wrapped about the men's shoulder.
"Sweetheart..." Red rushed for the woman, his features etched with concern, "are you all right?"
Walking to the bottom of the steep staircase, Red frowned when he took note... the bodies, more specifically Tom's, had disappeared.
"I moved the bastard." Ben murmured, answering the unasked question. "I know she just shot him, but seeing his neck twisted the way it was..." He grimaced distastefully. "It was just too creepy." He shivered.
"Thank you," Red muttered quietly.
"Yeah..." Liz smiled, limping forward towards Red, "I'm fine. Are you guys okay?"
Searching the guards for any sign of injury, Red felt very relieved all looked well and intact.
"Red," Liz whispered discretely, "I have to pee... really bad."
Chuckling, Red gestured to the nearby facilities. "Let's go, sweetheart."
Reliving themselves of their... burden, Red helped Lizzy back into the main area, careful of the woman's injured leg.
Just as they reached their previous location, the most unexpected sight grabbed everyone's wandering attention.
Emerging from the edge of darkness, Antonio Crocetti looked dapper and decidedly out of place among Silas' tactically dressed security team.
"We'll clear the area." Silas had stopped long enough to measure Elizabeth's state before he was off again, directing his people to their appointed duties.
Antonio's men, all well-dressed, not a speck on their carefully selected suits and ties, stood off to the sides. All appeared indifferent to the melee and chaos happening around them as they stood stoically aside, hands folded almost primly before them.
Antonio himself walked casually among the dead and dying, offering out his hand, which Red took instantly.
"We were in the neighborhood." The older gentleman explained the situation in the least amount of words.
"Thanks for your assistance." Red pulled his eyes from a silent, vigilantly guarded... Francis Holbrook.
Red crooked his head. "What is he doing here?" His tone was this side of cool.
Francis' eyes dropped, but his head lifted stalwartly after a second.
"He has something to say to you, or rather," Antonio stepped, taking Lizzy's hands in his, "our resident FBI Agent." The man's eyes twinkled almost mischievously, meeting Liz's tear-filled ones with gentle reproach.
"Your hands are cold, angel." He snapped his fingers, and a blanket appeared miraculously. He took the offering, draping it over Lizzy's shoulders.
Francis stepped forward as if the weight of the world was on his own shoulders, shifting his eyes to Lizzy's openly hesitant ones.
Red watch the scene, uncertain of his own emotions as yet. His instinct was to tell Holbrook to get the fuck out of Lizzy's space and go fuck himself, but...something in Lizzy's manner stopped him from doing just that.
"Hi..." she managed, her voice trembling slightly. Clearing her throat, she tried offering a smile she didn't really feel, nervously tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"Can I–" Both she and Francis spoke simultaneously, then awkwardly deferred to one another.
"...You first." Francis gamely backed off.
"No, I mean..." Liz stopped.
The silence was brittle. Red's neck and shoulders stiffened with tension.
"So..." Francis tried again, swallowing his self-consciousness, "there's a lot of people here."
Liz glanced to his meaning, nodding thoughtfully. Yes, they had garnered quite an ordinance.
Francis racked his brain... coming up empty.
The silence prevailed.
Red shifted an annoyed, impatient look Antonio's way.
The older man offered a calming gesture only.
"You, eh..." Francis searched out Lizzy's face finally, "you got a real badge and stuff?"
Liz's face lit with cautious joy. "Yeah... eh... you want to see it or..."
Francis contemplated. "I got one too." He shrugged.
Liz was... confused. "You do?" She licked nervous lips. "Where did you, eh... get it, Francis?"
"Ebay, I think?" Francis scratched his head absently. "Hey, Lizzy... about before..." he motioned aimlessly.
"It was entirely my fault, Francis." Liz instantly stepped up closer.
"No, it wasn't." Red snapped his pique, sending Holbrook a glacial stare.
"I wanted to confide in you so many times." She ignored Red, wringing her hand nervously. "It has nothing to do with you or... anything about... what you do, Francis. I swear!"
"I figured that out." The man sheepishly spared Antonio a glance.
"I know how it must seem," Liz included Antonio in her penance gesture, "but it just isn't what you must be thinking." She sought out the older man again. "I wouldn't harm any of you... for the world. I swear, and I know coming from me..."
"Coming from you, little one..." Antonio stepped, planting a paternal kiss on her forehead, "it means everything."
Liz closed her eyes, tears allowed. They fell down her stricken face freely. "You and Maria are like..."
"My little angel," Antonio's tone softened to a gentle scold, "whatever agenda is playing out here, I suspect has everything to do with Reddington here," he smiled over at the man, "... and very little to do with you."
The man waved the issue aside. "In our trade, we learn to utilize tools of all sorts." he shrugged stalwart shoulders. "It might shock you to learn just how many so-called respectable people I have in my pocket." He chuckled. "Doesn't mean they are good or bad... merely prudent."
Liz blinked.
"Which is not to lump you into such an unsavory category, only saying," The man spread his hands, "there are circumstances, and then there are... circumstances. I do not judge, or condemn, so easily."
Liz swiped at her cheeks, her attention riveted.
"I have placed my trust in this man." Antonio indicated Red. "He has yet to misplace it. Whatever is afoot will play out if it is meant to be. That trust... is still very much in place."
"Thank you, Antonio." Red nodded his deep gratitude. "I will not let you down."
"I know this... and Francis knows it as well." Antonio turned shrewd eyes the young man's way.
"Yeah..." Francis lowered his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I guess, I kinda do."
"You kind have a piss poor way of showing it!" Red grated.
"Red!" Liz's face was stricken. "It's okay!"
"No, it's not okay!" Red's anger surfaced. "He treated you like shit, Lizzy!"
"How would you have reacted in the same circumstances?" She defended Francis, stepping between Red and the guy. "You would have felt betrayed! Just like Francis did, I'm sure... just like I would have!"
Silas sauntered on scene. "You want I should main and kill the little bastard, Red?" He cast Francis a lethal look. "Gonna slice you up into bite-size pieces and feed you to Keres." he pushed buttons on all levels.
"Stop it!" Liz stepped, hitting her guard's shoulder cause... she needed to hit something along about now. "You will do no such thing!"
"It's okay, Lizzy." Francis bemoaned. "I deserve it, but dammit... it just," he hesitated, "hurt so much! We're family and I was thinking you didn't really..." he scratched his neck nervously, "feel that way and I just... I couldn't stand it!"
"No, Francis!" Liz wailed, embracing the man in a death grip. "I do feel that way! I love you, you idiot! You're my bestest friend of all time!"
Returning the tight embrace, Francis closed his eyes with relief. "Yeah, well." He bit back tears. No way was he going to lose it with men like Red, Antonio, and freaking Silas around. "You're like the most annoying pest of an older sister a guy could have."
Liz stifled a choked sob of a chuckle. "I'm younger than you, dummy!"
"But you're still annoying." The man felt better as Liz leaned away. "So... this was super cool." He gestured to the surrounding carnage. "Who exactly were we blowing away, anyway?"
"Oh, Francis," Liz lamented, "how much time do you have. So much has happened." She chuckled again when Francis checked his watch instinctively at her rhetorical question.
"Antonio's car is warmed up," he gestured to the waiting vehicle.
"Is there liquor too, by chance?" Liz huffed a tired laugh.
"Oh, yeah, yeah." Francis assured. "There's even cookies, I think."
"Red?" Liz checked with the man, wondering if he, too, was tagging along.
Sighing internally, Red kept his mouth shut... for now. After this evening's events, Lizzy needed this quiet downtime to talk. Now was not the time to further questions his feelings about Francis.
All that mattered was... Lizzy was happy and distracted.
"I'll be along in a minute, baby." Red attempted a smile.
"Oh, okay." Liz smiled, leaning to kiss him. "Don't be too long," she murmured, "we really should eat soon." She reminded.
Smiling, Red kissed the woman once more before Francis stepped to her side.
"Here, lean on me." Francis offered, looping Lizzy's arm around his shoulder. "I got you.."
Liz was all smiles, heading off in the direction needed... humming quietly.
Red wasn't sure at first if he was hearing right or exactly who was doing the humming, until Francis' tenor joined, singing the words aloud.
Encouraging the woman to join him, the two song-birds continued their duet of the melodic, but eerie old sixties pop hit until they disappeared beyond the doors.
"Ah, sweet youth." Antonio reminisced. "Haven't heard that since Ray Farina's wake."
"Well, that's disturbing." Silas made mention, something suddenly catching his eye.
"In more ways than you know..." Red looked a tad discomposed as he spoke.
Bending at the waist, Silas held the weapon he had just found aloft, shrugging before holstering it at his waist. "Eh, this guy doesn't mind if I take this..." he indicated the dead guy at his feet.
Red's discomposure heightened slightly as he checked on his head guard.
"Oh," Antonio remembered, "Maria expects you," he smiled, "and your FBI associate for Sunday dinner." The man laughed at his own wit. "Causal dress, bring a bottle... do not be late."
Nodding aimlessly, Red smiled. "Yes, of course." He gamely accepted the invitation.
Red watched in a haze as the older man turned about and laughed at something his head guard said as they took in the surrounding carnage.
Shifting his eyes to the right, Red sighed as Mr. Kaplan pushed through the doorway, a pinched look on her already disapproving face.
Hastily directing her team, the group hurried about, putting the warehouse to rights and grabbing bodies without batting an eyelash... right before his very eyes.
Turning, his eyes landed on Lizzy and Francis giggling inside Antonio's car, sharing a bottle of Scotch... and cookies as Joe looked on, amused for their antics.
Coming full circle, he found Dembe patiently waiting for him to take it all in.
"My life... is so weird." he muttered.
Dembe smiled happily in agreement. "Yes, it is, but you wouldn't have it any other way."
"No..." Red felt a genuine smile emerge, "...no, I wouldn't."