The cyrillic alphabet was giving Jacob a headache. It looked like a bunch of scribbles mixed in with real letters. Trying to learn Russian was a stupid idea. That briefcase and whatever was in it was bad news. If he was smart he'd drop it in the nearest dumpster and move on.
When he'd stolen the case, he hadn't realise the kind of trouble it would bring him. He'd thought he was making a smart move, changing up his usual game plan. Picking pockets and swiping purses just wasn't good enough. People rarely carried much cash anymore and credit cards came with so many problems. The low payout made it necessary to steal frequently, which increased the chances of getting caught. Watching the businessmen and lawyers scurry from place to place, it occurred to Jacob that each of them seem to carry briefcases. How important those cases must be to those men for them to lug them around. How much they much they must be worth to those rich dicks. Legal document, reports, confidential notes. The possibilities were endless. How much would they pay to have them returned, if they were stolen?
*"а ты говоришь по русски?" Jacob's head snapped up and he found himself looking at a man in his mid-thirties with short brown hair. He wore a heavy coat, leather gloves, and one of those funny looking, Indiana Jones hats. His stance was non-threatening and he had a broad smile pasted across his face. Probably just an over-friendly adult. Jacob wished he could tell him to take a hike, but the last thing he needed was for the guy to complain about him to someone. This library was one of the few safe warm left in the city for kids like him. The librarians and clerks turned a blind eye to children who spent their school days in the building, particularly on cold winter days like this one. If he got in trouble they just might make him go or worse, call the police on him.
^"я изучаю." The man nodded at Jacob's no doubt butchered pronunciation and Jacob deliberately looked back down at the book, hoping the guy would take the hint.
"Not the easiest language to learn." Unlike body language, and yet this idiot didn't seem to understand it.
"I like a challenge." Jacob let just enough irritation seep into his words to make it obvious to a semi-aware individual that he wanted to be left alone.
"As do I. Tracking you down for example wasn't as simple as I expected it to be. Where's the case Jacob?" Holy shit. Jacob schooled his face into its most innocent and confused expression before looking back up.
"Sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else." Jacob's mind quickly sorted through options. The man was standing between Jacob and the stairs leading to the lobby. There was no way to get by him, not without doing something first. He could flip the table or call for help. Of course either of those options would draw attention to himself, and that was the last thing he wanted. Maybe he could bluff his way out of this. "Seriously dude, take a hike."
"I'm afraid I can't leave until you tell me where you've stashed the briefcase you stole." The man seemed pretty damn sure of himself, which was not good. Time to raise the stakes.
"Look buddy, I don't know anything about a briefcase and if you don't leave right now I'm going to start screaming for someone to call the police. You want to explain to them why you're harassing an underage boy in a public library?" The man's hand dipped into his pocket and for a frightening moment Jacob thought he would pull out a gun. Instead a portable phone emerged. The man placed it on the middle of the table.
"By all means, call them yourself." The man tilted his head and waited. Jacob had no idea what to do. Lying his way out seemed to be failing. He had to decide which would be worse the police or the stranger in the funny hat. The police meant a one way ticket to Juvie. The guy hadn't pulled a gun on him yet and they were still a public place. Screaming for help was still an option if it looked like things were getting violent. "I didn't think so. As I was saying the case's owner would like it returned."
"Then he should have paid me like he was supposed to. All I asked for was a lousy grand. How much is he paying you?" Who was this guy anyway? Some kind of PI? First the thugs that were at the initial exchange and now this. What kind of tab was the Russian douche running at this point?
"Considerably more than that." That meant the documents in that case were worth far more than what he'd asked. Ironically Jacob never would have known that if the guy had just held up his end of the deal.
"What a moron." The man shrugged, though the look in his eye suggested he didn't exactly disagree with Jacob's assessment.
"He didn't trust you deliver on your word. Also his ego was a bit bruised after being gamed by a teenager." God, adults could be such babies.
"How did you find me?" Jacob didn't understand where he'd gone wrong. He'd been careful, worn a baseball cap to hide from the airport's many cameras. No one should have been able to find him.
"Your friend gave me a description." Kevin. Jacob wasn't even a little surprised. The kid was an idiot, which was one of the reasons Jacob had enlisted his help. The other reason was that Kevin was a close enough physical match for Jacob to be mistaken for him at a distance. He'd told the Russian to drop the money in the waste bin of a Men's toilet in JFK airport and to wait by payphone for further instructions. For twenty bucks Kevin agreed to walk into the bathroom, no questions asked. The idea was to draw out any uninvited guests and it had worked. They'd moved in on Kevin and Jacob had moved the hell out.
"I don't have any friends." In street life caring about other people made you vulnerable, so for once Jacob's little 'natural defect' as one of his social workers so charmingly put it was an asset. He and Kevin had made a deal and they'd both held up their ends. If things hadn't turned out great for Kevin that wasn't on Jacob.
"Well, then the canary you sent down the coal mine. Smart play by the way. In fact all of it was very well thought out. Public place, plenty of people to blend in with." Jacob's eyes narrowed, trying to figure why the guy felt the need to kiss his ass.
"What makes you think I even have the case anymore?"
"I don't think you're learning Russian for the hell of it. Rest assured I have no intention of cheating you out of your fee. As far as I'm concerned you earned it. Here's half as a good faith deposit. You'll get the rest when you deliver the case to my hotel. Here's the address." The man passed over a wad of cash and small card with an address scribbled on the back. Jacob couldn't believe it. Was this guy really paying him and walking away without what he came for?
"How do you know I won't just take your money and split?" The man had managed to find him in less than three days, so he clearly wasn't an idiot.
"Because you're smart enough to realise that if I can find you once, I can find you again and next time I might not be as generous. I look forward to hearing from you." The man made it about five feet towards the stairs before stopping and turning back. "Whatever it was that drove you from your home, surely it has to be better than this." Jacob couldn't tell if that was a statement or a question.
"What the hell is it to you?" This guy didn't know him, didn't know his life. Did he really think Jacob was some kind of spoiled rich kid who'd taken to sleeping under bridges to get back at daddy? Jacob wished that were true.
"I suppose I abhor wasted potential." Potential. Funny, that was probably the first time anyone had ever used that word to describe him.
"Yeah, well you got any other suggestions?" He'd meant it as a meaningless snark, but the man in the hat tilted his head, as though seriously considering his words.
"I'll be staying in town for the week on business and necessity dictates that I be in meetings for most of it. There's a young man traveling with me, about your age. It might be good for him to get out of the room someone who knows the city and can keep him out of trouble. I will pay you $500 a day plus any expenses." Jacob's mouth actually fell open at the suggestion. Was this guy for real? $500 a day for seven days? That was $3500. Add the thousand for the case and he would be set for awhile. He tried to keep his expression neutral. Something that seemed too good to be true usually was.
"So you want me to what, babysit? Keep him safe from the bad element in the big bad city?" Who was this kid? Some kind of mentally handicapped shut in?
"I am confident the 'bad element' will steer clear of the two of you." Jacob eyes narrowed yet again, this time at the smirk on the man's face.
"Why's that?" The man's smile became enigmatic.
"You'll understand when you meet Dembe."
Jacob awoke from his dream to the sound a heart monitor's beeping. He was just about to yank it out when he caught sight of the large man standing only three feet off the foot of his bed.
"Hello my brother. It is good to see you awake." Dembe's warm serene smile, instinctively brought one of Jacob's own to his face. If someone had told Jacob seven years ago that the surly looking behemoth Reddington had introduced him to would one day be calling Jacob his brother, Jacob would have laughed in their face.
"Good to be awake. Is he pissed?" Dembe had argued against the heist, reminding Jacob that they hadn't been given the go ahead, but Jacob had insisted they move. If they hadn't, the shipment would have been lost and Reddington would have to deal with some deeply unsatisfied customers. Despite getting shot, Jacob still believed it was the right call.
"Raymond is...concerned." Jacob sighed, knowingly that 'concerned' was Dembe speak for irrate.
"Did you tell him I secured the package?" Shouldn't he get credit for the success of the operation? Would a thank you be too much to ask, especially considering the only casualty had been his own shoulder.
"Of course. He should return from delivering it soon."
"So he can chew me out." Jacob clenched his jaw in irritation. Reddington got a happy client and a pay day and Jacob was going to be ripped a new one. How was that fair?
"You frightened him." The idea of Raymond Reddington being frightened was almost comical. Jacob had seen his boss stare down a dozen semi-automatic rifles without breaking a sweat.
"He knows I can handle myself. He's just mad I made the decision on my own without checking with him. We both know he would made the exact same call." Raymond Reddington had not gotten to his current position in the criminal underworld by playing it safe.
"Perhaps, if it were him, not you." Dembe was probably right.
"Because he doesn't trust me." He'd heard it so many times from Reddington: He was too reckless, too impulsive, too foolhardy.
"Because he doesn't want to risk you. Jacob, one day you will have to learn the difference between being bold and being rash." Jacob snorted. Dembe was in no position to be giving lectures at this point.
"Says the guy who can't wait to go get his ass shot off for no reason at all." Jacob couldn't begin to wrap his head around Dembe's desire to return to the Sudan. He had hoped that Reddington, whose persuasive powers knew no bounds, would talk him out of it, but Dembe was apparently unmoved by his arguments.
"You've made you opinion on my plan to rejoin my countrymen in a fight for their freedom very clear." When Dembe had first told Jacob of his ambition, Jacob had lost his temper for the first time in years. He'd yelled and cursed and Dembe had stoically stood, silently taking all of the abuse while saying nothing in response. Naturally this had lead to more yelling and cursing on Jacob's part.
"Your countrymen? Please. What the hell did that country or those people ever do for you? Jack shit. You owe them nothing." The Sudanese people hadn't stopped Dembe's parents from being murdered or brought their killers to justice. They hadn't saved him from the flesh peddlers he'd been sold to or rescued him when he'd been left to die. The only person Dembe owed any allegiance to was Reddington as far as Jacob was concerned.
"It is not about a debt, it is about doing what is right." Jacob rolled his eyes. Morality wasn't something that Jacob was terribly interested in, at least not the traditional kind.
"You don't know anything about those people. You really going to trust them to have your back?" Jacob was intensely suspicious of groups lead by a cause. They always seemed to believe that their goal was worth more than any one member. Dembe would be the new man, the outsider, the one most likely to be sacrificed if sacrifices were to be made.
"There was a time when you and I were strangers." So that was it, Dembe was going off to find a new family, a new brother, and leave Jacob behind. He was surprised how much more that hurt than his shoulder wound.
"Yeah and if you do this that's exactly what we're going back to being." If Dembe wanted to throw his life away, fine. Jacob didn't need him. Not really. He didn't need anyone.
"Jacob, look at me." Jacob reluctantly turned back to look his friend in the eye. "You and I are brothers. Neither distance, nor time, nor even death can change that. But I must go where I am needed." Jacob felt a terrible ache in his chest. Damn Dembe for making him feel like this.
"You're needed here. Reddington-"
"Raymond does not need me. He has you. And you have him." Jacob grimaced. Reddington had been good to Jacob, no question, but their relationship had never been easy. Dembe had stated on more than one occasion it was because they were far too much alike. There was respect, loyalty, but Jacob had never felt, fully comfortable. A part of him still felt like an intruder on the unit that had been Reddington and Dembe. With Dembe gone, he didn't know what that would do their already strained bond. Additionally this wasn't the best moment to find out.
"He's hasn't been himself lately. Something is wrong, even though he won't admit it, at least not me. Has he said anything to you?" Dembe shook his head.
"No, but I have seen it too. Talk to him." Easier said than done.
"That's more your area than mine." It was ironic, given how little Dembe spoke in general, but he had a way of reaching Reddington in a way Jacob could only marvel at.
"Try. For me." Jacob sighed and dropped his head back on his pillow. Facing a choice between interrogating Reddington and getting shot in the shoulder again, he'd take being shot every time.
Thanks for being so patient and special thanks to Tanikasaiko for inspiring the beginning of this chapter!
*Do you speak Russian?
^I'm learning.
If my Russian is wrong blame Google Translate!
