I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

Somehow Jane managed to pull herself together and hold out a hand to Fischer, when what she really wanted to do was use her training to wipe that smirk off his face. "Mr. . . . Fletcher, is it?" she said, using the name with which Rich had introduced him. "Nice to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. . . . Doe," Fischer returned, his cold eyes roaming her form with grim satisfaction. It had taken him so long to track her down that he could hardly believe they were finally standing face-to-face. He'd begun to believe the rumors that she really was . . . dead.

But he knew for a fact that a woman like her wasn't easy to kill.

I wish I could say the same, Jane thought grimly as she took her seat. She should have known that cockroach would somehow escape his fate. "So . . . Mr. Fletcher," she asked once they had all been served, "are you enjoying your voyage so far?" She was determined to show him that she couldn't be cowed.

Fischer smiled at her. Remi always had been a feisty one. He was going to enjoy taking her down a peg or two. "The Orion certainly has its . . . charms," he said smoothly. "I'm afraid I haven't seen a great deal of the ship yet though. I was hoping I'd find a shipmate to spend time with, but so far I haven't met anyone who shares my interests. Perhaps after dinner you could give me a tour?"

"That's an excellent idea!" Sarah approved, playing the part they'd assigned her to perfection, having no idea that Jane would rather walk barefoot over broken glass.

Something wasn't right here, Kurt thought as Jane quietly acceded to Fletcher's request. Her smile was a bit strained, and there was a look in her eyes he had never seen before. A look that chilled him to the bone. He glanced at Rich Dotcom and saw a similarly dark expression in his eyes as he watched Jane. What the hell was going on?

The conversation continued, and Jane took part in it without missing a beat, though she could never afterwards recall what they had talked about. Several times throughout the meal, she saw Fischer's malevolent gaze linger on Kurt or Sarah, and she gripped her steak knife so tightly her knuckles turned white. She was relieved when the meal ended, anxious to get that snake away from her loved ones and find out what the hell he wanted.

"Jonas Fischer," she said levelly as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone. "I hope you don't mind my saying I'd hoped never to lay eyes on your ugly mug again. Suffice it to say, rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated. DNA even confirmed it, as I recall. How'd you manage that?"

"Oh, you know," Jonas returned with a casual shrug. "I invited a bum about my height and weight to stay in my apartment when I began to have doubts about your loyalty and made sure the only toothbrush and hairbrush the authorities would find were the ones he used. Then I started bringing him along to work with me, and left him in the arsenal when I knew it was about to blow up. Child's play, really."

Jane felt a chill snake down her spine at the cold-blooded way he described an innocent man's death. "So why come here now? What the hell do you want?" She kept her hands at her sides, apparently relaxed although in reality she was very much on a hair trigger ready to react, though she didn't think she'd need to. Fischer had always preferred to let others do his dirty work for him, and if his objective was to harm her, he was smart enough to know not to try it up close. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't toss your ass overboard right now."

Jonas smiled thinly. "And risk ruining your future with the good captain? Oh no, my dear. I doubt very much you would do that."

Jane fought to keep her voice steady. "You've been misinformed. There is nothing between Captain Weller and myself. We're not even on speaking terms at the moment."

Jonas chuckled. "You may have been able to sell that bill of goods to your newfound friends, Remi, but I've known you since Shepherd rescued you from that hell-hole of an orphanage—for which I never did think you showed proper gratitude, by the way, and I told her so more than once—and I can see right through this charade you're enacting. No, you love Weller. The question is, what will you do to keep him?"

"My name is Jane," she corrected icily, hating the memories that other name evoked. "And I ask you again, Fischer: what the hell do you want?"

"Right down to business," Fischer sighed. "Some things never change." He himself preferred to toy with his quarry as a cat would with a mouse. "Fine. Business it is. You give me Shepherd's money, and I'll let you live. Which I think is an exceptionally generous offer, given how you betrayed us."

"Are you cra—" Jane became aware of just how loud her voice was and lowered it an octave. "Are you crazy? I don't have that money. The FBI seized it all when they shut the operation down."

"Oh, my dear." Fischer smiled at her patronizingly. "Do you take me for a fool? I know exactly how much Shepherd was worth—and according to my source within the FBI, they didn't seize even half that."

Jane stared at him in shock. "You didn't know." Well, that complicated things.

"I have amnesia," Jane reminded him. "The few memories I have managed to recover had nothing to do with Shepherd's financial dealings, I assure you, Fischer. If that money does exist, I have no idea where it is."

"That's unfortunate," Fischer said without any real pretense of sympathy, still reeling from the news that Remi had no idea where the money was. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that she wouldn't know. "In that case, you have until the ship returns to port to recall where it is. Or accidents may start to befall your loved ones—excuse me, the people you care nothing about.

"And don't even think about coming after me," he added as she took a menacing step toward him. "If one hair on my head is harmed, my friends will see to it that every one of yours pays for it with their lives.

"See," he said, laughing coldly at her suddenly stricken face, "this is why you should never allow your life to become complicated by feelings. You were a much more interesting challenge before, Remi. Now you're so easy to manipulate that it's hardly worth my time. I'll expect to hear from you soon."

He tipped an imaginary hat to her as he turned away, and Jane watched him go before heading to her own cabin, hardly able to breathe, her thoughts in turmoil as she tried to figure out her next move. God help her, she had thought the dangers of her past were far behind her, or she never would have put more innocent people in danger.

Neither of them was aware of the dark-clad figure above them who had watched their entire meeting with narrowed eyes.

Jane was ashen when she entered the cabin, and Kurt instantly rushed to her, taking her hands in his and noting with concern that they were freezing despite the tropical climate. "Jane? What the hell is going on? You and Fletcher know each other, don't you? Who is he?"

"His real name is Jonas Fischer," Jane said dully as she took a seat on the end of their bed. "And he was one of Shepherd's . . . lieutenants, for lack of a better word. Her right-hand man, really. Suffice it to say, the two of us never really got along." She filled him on what Fischer had told her, adding, "Even if I knew where that money was, I don't trust him to keep his word. I don't care what he does to me so much, but you guys . . ."

"Don't you dare say that, Jane!" Kurt ordered desperately, kneeling in front of her and giving her shoulders a little shake. "We're partners now, remember? A team. I finally found the right person to put up with my stubborn self, and I am not about to lose you. We'll figure this out together."

"But it's my fault you're in this mess in the first place," Jane reminded him. "If I hadn't come into your lives . . ."

"If you hadn't come into my life," Kurt said tenderly, "I would still be a lonely, grumpy sea captain who was convinced he'd never find a woman who could love him enough to overlook his occasionally overbearing ways."

"Occasionally?" Jane teased even as she was warmed by his words. She had expected doubts about their relationship, recriminations about the danger she had put him and their friends in, anything but the genuine understanding and acceptance she found in his eyes. She looped her arms around his neck. "I love you, you know."

"I know," Kurt told her, squeezing her hands gently. "I love you too, Jane." He moved up to sit beside her on the bed and pulled her into his lap. "So let's figure out a plan. There has to be a way out of this." His brow furrowed. "Fischer mentioned you betrayed him, and earlier you said the FBI shut down Shepherd's operation two years ago. Was this . . . were these the same people who threatened Reade?"

"I don't think the FBI shut down two major international arms-smuggling rings in that time frame," Jane admitted wryly. "Though I wasn't . . . I never knew about Reade, and I wasn't privy to any of the . . . inner workings of the organization at that point." It figured that of all the men in the world, she got involved with the one whose sister's love life had been ruined because of them. She could sense his confusion, and she sighed as she slid off his lap. "I should probably start at the beginning, huh?"

"I think that might be a good idea," Kurt said quietly, catching her hands as she rose and began to pace, "but, Jane . . . nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you. Okay?" She gave a tiny nod, and he rose, moving to the head of the bed and pulling her down until she was cuddled up next to him, her body sprawled half on top of his. "There. That's better. Now we can talk."

Jane nodded and took a deep breath before launching into her story. "It began four years ago when we were in Afghanistan to sell some automatic rifles to a local warlord. Or so I thought . . .