ENOUGH REALITY

After greeting Pearsall and Clarice warmly, Egyptian Prime Minister Anwar Bashandi entered the limo with purpose. He was focused on getting as much information as possible from the Deputy Director and had many questions about the president.

"Why, exactly, has Hannibal Lecter had been detained?" By his demeanor and tone it was obvious Bashandi was irate and had taken personal offense to Hannibal's detention. "The president's morals are exposed in this. It shows a lack of character from the man. Doctor Lecter took a very large risk to help find Mariyah and the only payment he asked for the risk he assumed was the ability to live openly with his wife and child. It seems to me that as soon as he attempted to do so, he was immediately treated as if he were a criminal. He should not be detained. He should be freed immediately. I intend to see that happen."

Clarice interceded, attempting to improve the Egyptian prime minister's view of the president.

"Mr. Prime Minister, I want to clarify that while Hannibal didn't agree to the commitment, he did voluntarily surrender himself for the testing requested by the president."

Mariyah leaned forward listening intently to all of the conversations. Clarice could see her intelligence sparkle in her eyes as she processed the situation.

"Why would he do that?" Mariyah asked, her voice brimming with concern.

Clarice placed a consoling hand on Mariyah's arm and spoke very calmly, "Our baby will be here soon and we were told this particular psychiatrist was considering either petitioning the court to have the baby taken from us or to have Hannibal removed from our home."

Clarice shifted in her seat as the baby kicked and stretched within her. She took several very deep breaths seeking to calm. The child was far more active if he sensed distress within her. He had been very active of late.

Mariyah reached for Clarice's hand and held it in support. The incisive girl continued to question, "Can they really do that here? Can they just take a baby away from the parents?"

Pearsall answered directly, "Yes, if they think the baby is in danger."

"Why would the baby be in danger? He's going to be a wonderful father. He's a wonderful friend." Mariyah was very emotional as she peered out the window. Her heart raced as she waited for the prison to appear around every corner, over every rise in the roadway. "That's even more reason why Hannibal should have stayed away from those people. They can't be trusted."

Clarice understood that opinion. In fact, she shared it, but it wouldn't do to tell the Bashandi's her feelings. She instead explained her husband's thinking.

"Hannibal believed if he participated willingly, they would understand he was no threat and would leave our family in peace. Our situation has been complicated because although Hannibal's passed all of the psychological tests, Doctor Bloom isn't being very receptive and has sabotaged Hannibal's efforts."

Bashandi's arms were folded across his chest in defiance. He sat forward on the seat, puffed his chest and arched his back. There was an air of regality about the man giving him the appearance of sitting, not in a car but on a throne. As he questioned Pearsall his voice struck an authoritative tone, "What does that have to do with the fact that the president requested an evaluation that had already presumably been completed?"

Pearsall attempted to mimic the man's posture but not having the core of values or supportive musculature was soon forced to abandon the effort. Somewhat slouched, he proceeded with damage control.

"The president wanted Hannibal evaluated simply to provide a second opinion, and to be certain there were no changes in his status. That evaluation had been fully administered and completed in the Lecter's home. After administering the test, which Lecter passed, this particular psychiatrist bypassed the president and went directly to the courts. He's grossly overstepped the boundaries of his initial assignment."

Prime Minister Bashandi continued the line of questioning obviously wanting all the information he needed before meeting with Hannibal. "Mrs. Lecter, did you say that your husband agreed to be tested?"

"Yes, Mr. Prime Minister, he agreed to be tested as a courtesy to the president."

Bashandi wagged an accusatory finger, not at Clarice, but in general disdain for the situation.

"Did he also agree to the electric shock treatments? Did he agree to that extreme level of isolation?"

Clarice's eyes welled slightly. She was forced to take a breath to steady herself before answering.

Seeing her struggle and not wanting Clarice to become emotional, Pearsall answered the question for her.

"No, he should have been tested on paper alone. None of the treatment he has been subjected to was agreed to either by Doctor Lecter, his wife, or the president. The psychiatrist operated under his own volition and received permission for some of those treatments by order of the court."

The prime minister thumped his back against the seat in disgust. His voice was incredulous, "How is it possible that one doctor, and one judge have more power than the president?"

Pearsall attempted to answer the question as dispassionately and thoroughly as possible. "This particular doctor used the courts to obtain an order taking emergency custody of Doctor Lecter by stating he was a danger to society. The court will review the material and will determine Doctor Lecter's mental status. They have up to seventeen days to complete the evaluation. The matter must then be brought before the court and the judge will review the material and make a determination."

Clarice watched the prime minister very carefully. He was more than impressive.

You pick your allies well, H. This guy's passion for your cause is going to play well on camera.

Bashandi shook his head in disbelief as Pearsall explained the process. He was not pleased to hear the president's conversation to him confirmed, "Therefore the president has no consideration in this process? Of course, he told me as much but I did not believe him. He claims to have no influence and while I understand that on the surface one does attempt to maintain an air of independence between one's political seat and the courts, surely there is some way he can bring pressure to bear."

"Not unless he wants to chance removal from office. He cannot control the decision of the court or influence the process in any way. The separation of powers insures that no man holds too much power."

Bashandi nodded, "Yes, as I told the president, it would seem no man, other than Doctor Bloom of course, holds too much power."

As they turned the corner and proceeded on East Madison Street where the prison was located Clarice was surprised at how large the crowd of supporters had become. There were thousands of people lining the streets. The road running alongside the prison had been closed to accommodate all of the satellite trucks needed to support the demand for news feeds from across the country. There were also international news carriers with reporters doing on-camera interviews. It was a circus atmosphere with paparazzi and journalists alike jockeying for the best position.

When the limo pulled up in front of the prison Clarice rolled her eyes. Pearsall noticed her look of disgust and countered, "Don't worry. I'll get you in past the reporters and the idiots with the signs."

"What about that idiot?" Clarice pointed out the window.

There, in the center of a throng of supporters, Logan waited very patiently with a wheelchair. A halo of people surrounded him, though none too close, as he had obviously warned them away.

Clarice was both irritated and amused. "I thought I dodged him by catching a ride with you but he's smarter than he looks."

Pearsall leaned over Clarice and spotted Logan. "Hey, you might not like it but he promised your husband he'd look after you and he takes it seriously."

Clarice prepared herself for the fact that she would be riding in the assisted device. There was no way Logan would let her face Hannibal unaided. She laughed at the sight of him, "I keep saying that man is dumber than a bag of hair about everything else in his life but when it comes to firearms or promises to Hannibal he's an idiot savant."

Mariah peered out at the prison. The front of the building was ominous: cement walls and rusted windows covered with rolls of razor wire. She became visibly distraught.

"He's been in here for almost two weeks…Here?"

Clarice realized that Mariyah would be hurt for Hannibal. She had become emotionally attached to him and it would be difficult for her to see what he had been going through up close. She placed a consoling arm around the girl's shoulder. "He's an incredibly strong man, Mariyah. I've visited with him. You'll see. He's fine."

Mariyah tugged the zipper of her coat nervously as her emotions bubbled to the surface. She initially had a difficult time adjusting to her life after enduring her captivity at the hands of Stuart Miggs. Keeping in close contact with Hannibal had helped her immeasurably with the pain and isolation of the event and now knowing he was experiencing similar pain hurt her deeply. She spoke very softly and there was a tremor in her voice, "I just want to cry right now. I think when I see him…I'm just going to cry."

Anwar Bashandi took her hand and squeezed it. His voice was firm, "Tears will not help your friend. Do you remember the things he told you? Do you remember what he did to help you?"

"I remember everything he ever told me. I constantly read his emails over and over again. I just want to tell him how much he's helped me."

Bashandi's voice softened, "You will tell him; you will tell everyone, and if you are articulate and you are passionate in your defense of him, they will have no choice but to rule in his favor. He is counting on us to help him as much as we counted on him. Doctor Lecter did not let us down. We owe him the same effort."

"Yes. I know…" Mariyah stared out the window at the prison. "…but I still might cry."

HANNIBAL PREPARES

Hannibal was taken to the shower, un-cuffed and allowed to enter the area unrestrained though the guard followed him into the actual shower area.

Accustomed to the procedures of prison life Hannibal removed his clothing without taking note of the close supervision of the guard assigned to him. The guard handed Hannibal a sub-standard disposable safety razor and a small can of shaving cream.

"Sorry, Doctor Lecter, I know you're used to better than this."

Hannibal took the bit of plastic, assessed the inadequate metal strip and sighed as he addressed the guard.

"I've tolerated Bloom's petty torments without complaint. I am not offended by the utter lack of privacy or the tepid trickling from the pipes due to the lack of water pressure, but I really do take umbrage to being given this wholly inadequate tool with which to groom. It is certain that I would attain a much closer shave with my Harpy than with this toy."

"That's probably true…those razors are crap," the guard commiserated.

Hannibal turned and stood in front of the sink peering into the flat piece of polished steel that would serve as a mirror. Beside his own warped reflection, Hannibal could clearly see the reverse image of the guard staring at him. He lathered his face as he spoke, "Will you be watching my progress? Assessing my abilities with a razor, perhaps?"

"Yeah…Sorry. I've been directed to supervise the razor. Super-max security protocols…you know the drill I'm sure."

"Knowing the drill and enjoying the drill are two different matters entirely," Hannibal commented as he rinsed the dull razor in the sink.

Hannibal was more than a little irritated being in the company of this man. He reminded him of Logan though without the charm. Not that he minded the man's physical presence, he expected to be watched. Rather, he minded the guard's insinuation that there would be anything that anyone could do to stop him if there was a life he wished to take.

He began to drag the razor with the grain of his beard deciding the Chopin Polonaise in A major op. 40 no. 1 would be an enjoyable distraction. The history of the piece gave it an air of defiance and pride associated with its performance. He smiled as it soon echoed within his mind.

"Don't you find it amazing that I am watched so carefully with regards to this pathetic razor and amusing that one assumes from my past that I would choose to injure without cause? Have I not gone to great lengths to heal and not to harm?"

"Well, you are meeting with the Egyptian Prime Minister so precautions are being enhanced. I don't think it's anything personal."

"Yes, I'm certain I could do a tremendous amount of damage to Prime Minister Bashandi with this mighty weapon. Not to mention he is an ally not an enemy…and what could be more personal than denying a man physical privacy?"

"Sure, it's stupid I agree, but I do what I'm told and that makes my life easier. I'm sorry that it makes yours more difficult. I feel bad about all of this. I've been watching the news. It's all been a fucking disgrace. You have a hell of a pretty wife, though. If you don't mind my saying."

"Yes, my wife is perfection."

Hannibal stopped shaving for a moment and thought of Clarice. He had often considered her during his incarceration so many years previous.

You were so young and full of ambition my Love. I will never forget your bright eyes blazing back at me from behind the glass.

She had awakened a want within him. A want of freedom so that one day, he might see her again without the glass between. After his escape, though many years had passed he couldn't forget her bravery, her beauty, intelligence and wit. She was also as cunning as he. Deadly her many gifts, though she had yet to discover her power.

You could pierce to my soul with a glance even then, Clarice. Though now, you know the power you hold.

The guard was impressed by what he had seen and heard, "She's a dedicated woman. That's hard to find now. Must be tough you being in here and her being out there."

"When you consider I spent more than eight years of my life housed in virtual isolation it should come as no surprise that I am quite accustomed to being handled in this way. It is disconcerting for my wife, however."

I was a patient man. I waited years for you to come into your own hoping you would stay true to your nature. You did not disappoint me my Love, thus the focus of my existence became you. It remains you.

The guard nodded as he watched Hannibal. The warped image of his reflection in the faux mirror sent a shiver slowly bumping up the ridges of his spine. "You know she really freaked out when the paramedics were trying to resuscitate you. Your heart stopped a bunch of times."

"Did it? Yes, well, allergic reactions are a tricky business. I remember the dart striking my throat and falling away from Clarice. Then, I woke up here with a tremendous headache and almost no memory of the previous days. I am fortunate in that my wife loves me very much. I expect she was quite emotional."

Hannibal regarded his reflection for a brief moment before he began to shave the right side of his face. As he shifted his conscious thought to another time and place, within his mind, his reflection in the mirror was replaced with an Albrect Durer engraving. The demons were particularly detailed.

The guard had been watching the coverage and was intrigued by Hannibal's perception of his own predicament. He continued to speak as Hannibal shaved.

"Have they told you they're running the entire documentary tomorrow night? One of the editors said it's close to three hours long."

Hannibal was pleased to hear the documentary crew had put the material together so quickly. His expression reflected boredom though he was fully engaged.

"It is difficult to believe there will be anyone interested in viewing Doctor Bloom's egomaniacal rants."

The guard started to pull at his retractable keychain extending the cord and allowing it to snap back.

"I don't know about Bloom but people are crazy curious about you. I honestly don't know anyone who isn't going to watch it. You may not know it but you are a ratings machine! I've seen some of those entertainment shows and the hosts have been talking about how the networks and studios want to offer you millions to do a reality series."

Hannibal continued to shave and spoke very quietly without shifting his eyes to the guard. His voice was detached and remote, "Standing in a cold room as naked as the day my mother gave me birth, speaking to a complete stranger as he watches me shave is enough reality for me, thank you."

The guard shifted his stance now obviously uncomfortable with his task, "Sorry…I see what you mean…it sucks."

Hannibal lifted his chin, turned his face to the side and massaging the tendons of his neck paused for several seconds to consider the musculature and how might affect the line he took with the razor. He too wondered if the package he mailed to the White House had been sorted and reviewed yet. Counting the days and assessing the speed of his chosen method of shipment Hannibal decided it had definitely arrived and as such was being reviewed. His focus then shifted to the guard.

"You must please excuse my disposition. I am very moody as I have been away from my wife for far too long and if you have indeed seen footage of my stay you will agree the conditions of my incarceration have been less than stellar."

"I'm sorry, Doctor Lecter. This has got to be really a difficult time for you both."

Hannibal checked the edges of his sideburns turning his face from side to side in order to make certain they were even.

"Yes, more for my wife than myself. She's pregnant and as such, emotional. I consider this a temporary situation though she worries Bloom may attempt to keep me indefinitely."

Hannibal finished his shave quickly and returned the razor to the guard supervising him. He then stepped boldly into the shower. Turning on the water he was surprised to find it steaming hot. He washed himself quickly to take advantage of the abnormally comfortable temperature.

Something tells me the water is warmer in the shower because of your absence Doctor Bloom. Obviously you have been limiting my access to hot water.

Hannibal felt refreshed and was beginning to towel off when Logan entered the shower area accompanied by the warden. Logan casually carried Hannibal's garment bag over his shoulder.

"Hey my friend…I've got your suit so you don't have to go to the meeting in your towel!"

Hannibal finished drying himself, flipped the towel over the tile divider and reached for the bag. He hooked the hanger over one of the showerheads.

"Thank you, Logan. I am certain the Egyptian Prime Minister will be far more comfortable now that my suit has arrived. I would have attended the meeting au naturel before I would have been photographed in the presence of my pregnant wife wearing prison garb."

"Nah, you couldn't do that, Clarice would kill you! It's your endowment, not the national endowment. I doubt she wants you to share it with the entire television viewing population."

Hannibal unzipped the bag and reached into the bottom and removed silk boxers and quickly stepped into the undergarment. "I must admit it has been quite some time since I truly appreciated the feel of a quality fabric compared to the course cotton of prison issue undergarments. Another day or so of this and I will be chafed indeed."

Logan elbowed the guard, leaned over and half-whispered, "Dude, why the hell were you standing around watching him anyway? What are you trying to catch a glimpse of the Hanniconda? You do know he's straight, right?"

The guard was embarrassed by the inference, "Jesus, I wasn't checking him out or anything! It's just that I was told to keep track of the razor."

"Dude, all you had to do was look at the fucking thing and make sure it was intact when he handed it back to you. I mean he's not a convict and it's really bad form to watch a guy take a shower. Not to mention it's kind of creepy, so, how about we give him a few minutes to handle his business. He can find his way out. It's not like he has more than one choice. He's just got to walk through the doorway."

The guard looked to the warden for an answer, "What do you want me to do, Sir?"

The warden turned and headed out the exit waving a hand for the others to follow.

"Give the man a chance to put his clothing on. Since we'll be escorting him to the meeting without the use of handcuffs, I'm sure we can trust him with his own damned clothes."

Logan waited until the other's left the shower room. "I'll be watching the doorway again. Do what you have to do."

"I'll be just a moment, Logan."

Logan laughed and clapped his hand on Hannibal's shoulder, "Just a moment, huh? It takes me a lot longer than that, especially without a video or a magazine."

Hannibal smiled, "Logan, I'll be dressing myself. That is all."

"No problem…just thought I'd help a brother out is all."

"You have already helped me immeasurably Logan. Thank you."

Logan beamed, "Anything for you!"

"And Logan?

"Yeah Buddy?"

"Hanniconda…Really?"

Logan turned around, raised his hands above his head in surrender as he headed toward the door and called back to Hannibal as he exited, "Hey, I was just sayin' what everyone was thinking!"

Thanks to Twisted Love Stories for letting me borrow the Hanniconda! It was too funny my writing buddy! I couldn't resist using it! It fit Logan too perfectly!

Review and let me know what you think, then PM and say Hi!

Until the next chapter, my friends!

LH