BRIEF RESPITE

Hannibal was returned to his cell much earlier than he had become accustomed. This allowed him the opportunity to relax on his bunk and ponder the events that had begun to unfold.

Logan has generated a level of participation that I had not fully anticipated. A degree of public backlash was expected, but the actual physical participation of protestors is an interesting development. I am quite certain the president will not sleep as soundly when he sees the news coverage this night!

Hannibal rested his head, folded his hands on his chest and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply. The scent of Clarice was rich on his body and he was enjoying the olfactory stimulation immensely.

What are you doing now, my Love? No doubt you are on the drive home and your mind is filled with thoughts of me. Know that I am thinking of you as well.

As Hannibal relished her still rich scent he allowed himself the brief enjoyment of reliving her hands on his body seeking to comfort him and bring him relief. The additional thought of Clarice's body resting against his own caused him to respond physically. Normally he would not have considered that a problem but the camera trained directly on his bunk presented him with a bit of a situation.

I can't have them see me hard for you, Clarice. I must shift my attentions elsewhere.

To shift from the sexual to the entertaining Hannibal thought he would enjoy revisiting the killings of Emilia and Nico. Emilia's was especially pleasurable. He had never killed while unclothed and found it to be an especially visceral experience. Not sexual in nature, but extremely primal and as such, very, very enjoyable.

As his thoughts shifted to the shower he could feel the heat of the water pulsing against his flesh. He stood very quietly as Emilia moved toward him, a look of want in her eyes. She reached for the drawstring of the scrub pants and lowered them. Hannibal had stepped to the back of the shower, preventing her from seeing his body. The angle he took too prevented her from seeing the key he had fashioned. She could not see him unlock the cuffs and was unaware that now free, nothing prevented him from attacking.

CLOSER…CLOOOSER…

Hannibal remembered his words of warning. He had asked her to respect Clarice. He warned her that he was married and as such, his body was for his wife alone. As a former lover, he might have let her live. For a time their sexual relationship had been entertaining as such, he had not held her want of him against her. He too, did not hold her nature against her. He would hold her disrespect of Clarice against her.

Emilia believed that because they had been lovers previously, that she was entitled to handle his body in this intimate fashion as if they were still lovers. She refused to respect his physical privacy and found his desire to remain true to Clarice both quaint and amusing.

Hannibal found crushing her windpipe and snapping her brittle neck quaint and equally amusing.

Hannibal allowed himself to revel in the sense memory of the cartilaginous structures caving in as he pressed against her throat. He compared the rapturous sensation of holding her body against him as she twitched out her last convulsive moments on this earth, to the last time he held her in orgasm so many years before. Though he had always taken great pride in his ability to bring a woman to completion, contemplating his own satisfaction with both experiences, Hannibal Lecter decidedly preferred the previous to the latter.

Hannibal then indulged in the evisceration of Nico. He relished the moment he tore the still throbbing heart from his tormentor's lecherous body. He imagined the tactile sensations of the warm, bleeding organ as it pulsed out its last few beats in his grasp. He had offered it to Clarice, but she lovingly declined.

Ah, well…the organ was too vile for my Love to handle. In any event the expression on his face the moment I tore that black heart from his hollowed ribs was very fulfilling. Why did I not rip the cardiac muscle to shreds with my teeth while his addled brain still possessed enough blood to process my pleasure? I should have chewed the life from it and spat the remains back in his face.

I have taken four lives over these last months. The demise of Stuart Miggs had been very fulfilling as well. Now there is Bloom. His death will be equally fulfilling.

THE TAPE

Logan took the task of escorting Clarice for Hannibal very seriously. He walked with her into the home and stood beside her as she prepared to disarm the security system.

She paused, "That's funny."

"What's funny?"

"I forgot to arm the system when I left. I was so fixated on seeing H, I didn't set the alarm."

Logan withdrew his firearm. "I'm going to go room to room with you. We'll start upstairs and work our way down. You let me know if anything is out of place."

"There's no forced entry. I'm sure it's fine," Clarice commented without worry.

"Probably, but I promised Hannibal I would see you home safely and I'm not leaving 'til I'm totally sure you're good to go."

"Okay, let's do this quick. I'm tired and I just want to curl up in front of the fireplace."

Logan and Clarice started upstairs and worked their way in and out of every room. Finding nothing unusual they moved down to the main floor of the home and again checked each room. The final area they inspected was the family room. Logan stepped in, scanned the layout and spotted the remote for the television on the rug beside the sofa. Clarice and Hannibal often fell asleep in front of the fireplace therefore the television in the room was set on a timer. Because it turned itself off Clarice had not entered the room since that evening.

Logan picked it up. "Hey, what's the remote doing on the ground?"

Clarice panicked, not wanting Logan to turn on the television. The VCR was obviously still loaded with the tape. She held out her hand casually gesturing for Logan to hand her the remote.

"I dropped that when I had the pain. H called the ambulance then everything went to shit when that moron Bloom moved on him. I've been so upset I never came back in here to pick it up."

Logan turned it over and considered it. Smiling, he handed it to Clarice. "Well, looks like everything is copasetic so I'm gonna take off. I'm taking Ardelia out for pizza tonight."

Clarice walked him to the door. She offered a little sisterly advice as he stepped through the entrance and onto the threshold.

"You know you're not in college anymore, Logan. You might want to up your game and take her to a real restaurant."

"I like pizza!" he defended.

"Everyone likes pizza just not four or five times a week." Clarice stood in the doorway. "A girl wants to get dressed up once in a while. Do you think Hannibal takes me out for pizza?"

"Nah, but he's part Italian. He can probably cook pizza up himself. I can't. Plus, he likes wearing grown up clothes like tailored suits and shit. I just can't make that look work for me. Plus fitted trousers make me itch in places I can't scratch in public."

"Logan, take off the cargo pants and heavy metal tee-shirt shake the moths out of your suit and take Dee out someplace nice."

"Okay…okay…chick conspiracy, I get it! I'll take her anywhere she wants. I'll even wear a shirt with a collar."

"Not that Hawaiian disaster either."

"Okay, I'll wear a real shirt! Now if you're done nagging get back inside and lock the door. Hannibal told me to make sure I don't leave until you activate that security system so don't go making a liar outta me. Turn the alarm on this time."

"You got it, Logan. Thanks my friend."

Logan waved, "Don't forget to tell my buddy I checked the house and everything."

Clarice thought Logan's dedication to Hannibal was sweet. "Don't worry…I'll let him know when I see him tomorrow."

Clarice watched to be certain Logan had driven off. Still holding the remote, Clarice realized she hadn't seen the entire tape. When she called for Hannibal's help, she remembered hearing her husband's voice still coming from the television. She decided she needed to watch the rest of the tape. She needed to know exactly what he was up against.

What other surprises do you have up your sleeve, H?

Clarice quickly wound the tape to the last point she recognized and sat back.

Okay, H…what devious little machinations did you finally come up with?

Clarice hit play.

Hannibal spoke very clearly as he flipped the shining silver coin across his knuckles, "Alan, your image is very important to you, yes?"

Bloom nodded as he watched the light playing off the flipping coin, "Yes, very. I was always amazed that your image was not more important to you."

The rhythm of Hannibal's voice was matched to Bloom's breathing patterns. The pauses in his sentences were strategically broken up so the inhalations and exhalations fell on natural syllabic breaks.

"My image is important to me only in the context of how my wife perceives me. I am not concerned with the perception of others. Clarice and my son are my only concern."

His voice was impassive as Hannibal moved the coin under his hand with his thumb, palmed the coin and held it.

Bloom looked carefully to see when and where the coin might reappear. Hannibal watched the direction of Bloom's eyes while placing the coin on its edge. He balanced it with the index finger of his left hand while he flicked it with his middle finger and thumb of the right, causing it to spin on its edge reflecting little pulsing strobes of light.

Bloom stared at the coin as he spoke, "You were not ashamed when you were arrested? You went from one of the most respected members of the social and intellectual community to being a convicted murderer. That must have been absolutely mortifying."

Hannibal ran his tongue along the edges of his upper teeth, then again across his lower teeth. He captured the coin in his fist as he considered the question.

"Not even remotely. I will admit that the incarceration was inconvenient, but the experience of being convicted or publicly judged had no impact on my intellectual life or my artistic pursuits. I remained able to publish in scholarly journals and my opinion was still sought after. No, other than the physical restrictions, and sub-standard dietary options, I found there was very little change to my life."

Bloom stared at Hannibal's hand and felt the absence of the coin very keenly, "You went from living a beautiful home to a tiny cell. You were trapped in that dungeon and half the time you didn't even have a toilet seat. Not exactly a dignified life."

Opening his palm and holding it out flat, Hannibal showed the coin to Bloom as he continued to speak, "My dignity is at the very core of my being and as such no person can impact it either through their actions or their lack of action. There was never a time where I felt it compromised."

"You were locked up, they all but threw away the key."

"Though my movement was restricted, there were no boundaries within my mind, thus I was totally free."

Bloom smiled as Hannibal again revealed the coin and begin to flip it over his knuckles, "You were publicly shamed. Everyone who knew you was now terrified of you."

A very slow and very sly smile crossed Hannibal's expression. They were finally circling around to his target. His voice showed compassion and concern, "There is no shame in me therefore fearful or not, the public's perception of me was of no concern at all. If your abilities were questioned, your professional integrity or your motivations suspect, you would not be able to bear that perception?"

Bloom spoke softly as if experiencing a deeply hidden fear bubble to the surface, "I would find that level of disgrace to be absolutely unbearable."

With a carefree glint in his eye, Hannibal tossed the coin in the air and continued his line of questioning.

"You would feel shame if the circumstances were similar? If your public image was called into question and your reputation irreparably damaged you would be?"

Bloom was very quick to finish the sentence and acknowledge his weakness, "I would be devastated by the embarrassment. I wouldn't be able to absorb it."

Hannibal was curious and content as he masterfully led Bloom in the direction he wished to take him, "If you could not absorb the devastation, what would you do? Could you not live with the disgrace and adjust your life accordingly?"

Bloom was quite animated, "No, I would want to die."

Hannibal continued to reinforce Bloom's position and request he defend it, "Though it would be no doubt difficult to absorb the embarrassment, no one has ever died of shame. What does not kill you makes you stronger."

"It would kill me…I guess I'm not as strong as you. I wouldn't be able to stand the dishonor."

Hannibal switched hands with the coin by tossing it in the air and catching it flat on the palm of his left hand. He then began to roll the coin over the knuckles of his left hand with the same dexterity he exhibited with his right hand. He spoke impulsively as if he had never considered the idea that revealed itself in his mind.

"There is an alternative I had not considered as my perspective at the time of my arrest was quite different than yours seems to be. I was not affected by what you perceive to be my public dishonor but had I been, I may have chosen a more chivalrous approach. Many cultures consider the taking of one's own life to be the only way to redeem lost honor."

Bloom's face lit up as he contributed to the notion, "Yes, it's common knowledge that many cultures utilized that practice, the Romans for example. Also, the Japanese samurai practiced Harakiri."

"Actually the more culturally accurate and patently less vulgar term is Seppuku. It is a very stylized, ritualistic and extremely public disemboweling."

Bloom spoke with interest as he enjoyed watching the rolling of the coin reflecting flashes of light flipping across Hannibal's elegant hand. He excitedly elaborated on the topic, "They used a sword didn't they…it's called a katana, I think."

"Actually, no, traditionally a short blade, a tanto, would more likely be used."

"They would do what…stab themselves?"

"The blade would be inserted in the abdominal area and the individual would drag it across their body traditionally slicing from left to right. If a samurai were shamed in such a way, this would be the most direct way to recover your...excuse me…his honor."

"How do you know so much about the samurai?"

"I lived with my uncle and his wife after the death of my parents. She was Japanese, her line descending from the Hiroshima Samurai. For many years I studied Kenjutsu under her tutelage."

"What is kenjutsu?"

"It is the art of Japanese swordsmanship. We also discussed Bushido at great length."

Hannibal flattened the coin on the table and tapped it several times.

Bloom's eyes shifted. Pick it up. Please, pick it up! Staring at the dormant coin, he absentmindedly mouthed the word, "Bushido?"

Hannibal picked up the coin and again flipped it over his knuckles. He intently watched as Bloom's eyes tracked the coin. Hannibal's voice was direct and now becoming more expressive.

"It is the way of the warrior. It is the code of honor, chivalry, frugality and mastery of one's life and skills that guides the lives of all Samurai. It is the way in which one lives the life of an honorable man. Do you consider yourself an honorable man, Alan?"

The coin…the coin… "Yes. I have always lived my life with that as my goal."

Hannibal watched the reaction as he again palmed the coin. There was disappointment in the man's eyes when the coin disappeared no matter how briefly it occurred. You are far too easy my friend! "It has long been a goal of mine as well. We have similar sensibilities."

By his ecstatic response, Bloom was obviously very pleased by Hannibal's admission. "Yes. Yes, I have often thought under different circumstances we might have been friends."

"Yes. Under different circumstances I might agree. The events of our lives have unfolded in a way that makes that quite impossible now. In the matter of my child, we are diametrically opposed. You believe that I am impaired organically and as such would be a danger to my own offspring. Is that an accurate assessment of your position?"

"Yes. That is quite an accurate assessment."

"We are adversaries then?"

"Yes. We are."

"Only one of us will prevail in this."

"Yes. That is a certainty."

"One of us will be grossly dishonored."

"Yes. That is likely."

"Might I ask a personal favor of you, Alan? If I am indeed dishonored, if my child is to be taken, before you remove the baby from my wife…" Hannibal paused, "...would you do me the favor of allowing me to take my own life rather than allow my child to be raised away from his mother? Would you grant me that respect?"

Bloom considered the request, "Yes. I would allow you that. I do owe you that respect."

"What if you were to be relieved of this case and I am found to be competent by an independent psychiatrist? One you respect and admire such as Doctor Danielson from Johns Hopkins or possibly Heimlich, you would respect either of their opinions wouldn't you? If they disagreed with your assessment, you would then be dishonored in my stead. What would you do? Would you bear the shame?"

"I would not."

"Would you admit, too that if I am judged to be a sane man, that your accusation to the contrary could be considered an insult to me personally?"

"Yes, if you are indeed to be found sane my suggestions to the contrary would indeed be an insult."

Hannibal baited the hook and dangled it in front of his suggestible prey.

"As an honorable man who has been thusly offended would I not be entitled to some level of satisfaction? If I am cleared and found to be fully competent, should there not be some manner by which we might redress this indignity? Might you allow me to restore my own personal honor?"

"Yes, you would be entitled to that."

"Shall we consider this a duel of sorts? Together, shall we test of our honor as gentlemen?"

Bloom seemed genuinely excited by the prospect, "In a duel, to ensure fairness the participants had matching weapons. What shall we use?"

"If you will allow me?" Hannibal reached into his desk and pulled out two small boxes. He flipped the lids to reveal two identical, shining serrated edged Spyderco Harpys. "We must determine the conditions. Because I would not wish to live if I were denied my wife and my child and you have implied your own dishonor would be far too difficult to overcome, may I suggest a la outrance."

"Meaning what precisely?" Bloom questioned.

"A la outrance is a term that signifies a duel to the death. For our purposes it would mean that one of us would walk away a vindicated man and one of us would succumb to a self-inflicted injury, Alan. Do you agree to the terms?"

"Yes. I do agree…Absolutely. I accept your challenge with great pleasure, Doctor Lecter. I am so sorry that your life and your intellect will come to an end in this way, though it is an honorable and respectable resolution to our conflict. As you have already been convicted of killing with this kind of weapon your death in this way would be very appropriate."

"Yes, well if one is to live by the sword, one must be willing to die by the sword as well. Do you not agree?"

"Yes. I do most certainly agree." Bloom lifted the knife from the box and opened the blade very carefully. He turned it over and examined it under the hypnotic glow of the single lamp, mesmerized as the light glinted off the polished blade. "It is an exceptionally elegant knife. I am not surprised it was your preferred weapon."

"It is also exceptionally sharp therefore the actual incision would be much like a hot knife passing through butter. It would be fairly painless. Now that we have come to this understanding, I wouldn't want to cause you undue suffering, Alan."

Like slipping into a warm bath…

Bloom nodded, "Nor I you, Hannibal."

Hannibal took the matching Harpy and tucked the weapon comfortably up his sleeve. He then turned his chair and looked over his shoulder directly into the camera.

The shift in perspective caught Clarice off-guard. Her husband was now looking directly at her from the television.

His voice was soft and filled with warmth, "Clarice, the show is over. There is no way for me to predict when you chose to view this tape therefore, if I am not beside you, please be a darling and place the tape in our safe until my return."

Hannibal glanced at Bloom and back to the camera lens. He reached toward the camera and winked at his wife before turning off the equipment.

"Do not worry, my Love. I promise you. I will return."

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Review and tell me what you think, then PM and say Hi!

Until the next chapter my friends!

LH