Author Note: Thank you for putting our minds at ease, Roe!
LIZZINGTON
Firing blindly down the darkened corridor, Matthew grimaced as the sound of Silas's bitching echoing in his ear became drowned out by the repetitive pop of his weapon.
All too soon, the sounds of the older guard's vulgarity returned, along with the grin on Matthew's face. He was positive it was language a lady should never hear, not that Elizabeth appeared to notice as the woman was offering a few choice words herself.
Rounding the corner, Silas pulled up short, yanking Liz back when, out of nowhere, an assailant had come barreling towards their position.
Retreating from the advancing foe, Silas shoved Liz protectively behind his impressive bulk. Acting as a shield, Silas unloaded his Glock towards the rapidly approaching threat. His eyes glinted triumphantly when the hostile double over and crumbled to the floor just feet from their position.
"Go!" He instructed Liz, keeping his body in between any other possible attack. "Get back!"
Semi-concealed around the corner, Silas maintained their position as he sought Matthew, who was now only meters down the way. Silence reigned momentarily as each side considered their options.
"God!" Liz gasped, checking the opposite corridor. "How many are there!"
"I'm sure we'll find out!" Silas snapped angrily just as a movement off to his right caught his attention. Redirecting the barrel of his weapon, he fired over Matthew's crouched position.
Silas' eyes closed in a brief second of relief when the sound of a dull thump met his efforts.
The relief felt was all too fleeting, for Matthew grunted sharply and fell to the side, grabbing at the wound to his chest.
"Matthew!" Liz startled, rushing for the man, her face allowing her shock and fear.
Hastily catching Liz's arm, Silas stopped her from rushing to the man's aid, cursing under his breath.
"Son of a bitch!" Silas fired down the corridor, his face grimly set.
Catching Silas' dark eyes, Matthew shook his head, motioning weakly. Training his attention, the man lifted his weapon, aiming it towards their enemy.
"Let's go!" Silas snapped, literally dragging the woman as he made their escape.
"We can't leave him!" Liz stared back at the fallen man, her eyes filling with wet heat, fighting with all she was worth to stay.
"Dammit, Liz!" Grasping the woman's collar, Silas used his superior weight and determination to propel Liz down the straightaway they had to travel. He rounded the corner just in time to miss a volley of shots from their protagonists.
Catching the woman from stumbling around the next bend, Silas jerked his head about as yet another series of bullets blanketed the area.
Feeling the familiar bite of a harsh burn in his side, he instinctively grasped the now open and oozing wound.
"Shit!" The man lurched, grabbing his side. Checking the damage, he grimaced as the dark crimson stain spread to just above his belt line, right before his very eyes.
"Fuck!" he gritted his teeth against the pain. "Go, Liz!" He barked the order, fighting to stay erect, for he knew the wound was mushrooming inside his stomach.
A wave of dizziness descended, nausea rising. Silas went down, collapsing to his knees, his hand braced against the wall beside him.
"Silas!" Liz's voice was terror filled as she rushed back to his side.
Dropping to her haunches, she rapidly examined the problem. Her hands fluttered over the blood pouring from the man's torso to the floor beneath him. Liz's face bled of color as she pressed on the gray fabric, revealing two large, singed holes in the stretchy material.
"Please..." she swiped roughly at her eyes. She hunkered down beside him, desperately trying to wrap his arm about her shoulders. "Please... please, come with me." She struggled with his weight and the fact the man was not exactly helping her efforts. "Stand up!"
"One more left. Go to Donovan's office." Silas panted breathlessly, shaking his head in the negative. "Get Red!" He grasped her wrist roughly, grabbing her attention. "I can't...make it, dammit!"
"No!" she hissed, fighting against the tears filling her eyes. "No, you're going to fucking make it. Now, stand up, you son of a bitch!"
Searching the area with distraught eyes, Liz lunged for the door opposite her, pulling roughly on the handle, shoving the door wide. Grasping her guard by the shirt, she frantically pulled the man across the slick floor.
"Don't make my death be in vain." Silas choked on a laugh, the entire fiasco suddenly hitting home. "You have to be around to tell them how cool I was before I bought it."
"Shut up, idiot..." Liz trembled visibly, hauling on the man's underarms, her feet slipping every few inches of ground gained. "Help me, dammit!"
Kicking with his good leg, Silas slid his way into the opened doorway. "Get the hell out of here!" Grabbing the doorjamb, he pulled himself inside, suddenly all business. "Go, I got this." He seemed to have recovered from the shock of the moment.
"Yeah, that's gonna fucking happen." She pulled her weapon from her waistband, her hand gripping it tightly.
"Listen to me, you little shit!" He grasped the front of her shirt, pulling her close, his face inches from hers. His breath smelled of spearmint, of all things. That she would notice at such a time...
"You have to get the fuck out of here." He exhaled heavily. "I can do this shit. I've done this shit." She was assured. "I need Red and the guys to back me up..." he panted breathlessly. "Are you understanding the parameters I'm putting down here?"
Glancing indecisively to her right, Liz grappled with the heaviest decision she had ever faced in her life.
Leveling off, he fired a couple of bullets down the hall to hold back any advancing enemy but allow Liz time to retreat. Counting off his shots, he dug into his pocket, removing a full magazine.
Dropping the expended cartridge, he slapped the new one in place, repeating the process.
"Do this for me. We're friends, right?" Silas cajoled the woman. "A friend would come through for me." He urged the woman to go.
Reading the doubt and growing fear for him in her eyes, he tried another tact...
"Lizzy... please..." He grimaced painfully before once again shooting down the empty corridor.
The woman's eyes widened in shock. "...Silas." Liz's lip trembled when the sounds of boots hitting concrete came pounding down the corridor.
"If you don't go... I'll kill you myself." He hissed as a burning pain shot through his gut. "Go, honey... I'll cover your ass."
Holding the man's eyes a moment, Liz jerked away, rising determinedly. Glancing around the doorframe, she rushed from the room and out of sight.
LIZZINGTON
"Code black!" Mark muttered into the radio, his tone controlled but tight.
Taking position opposite Dembe, Red scanned the area with a trained eye, his gun held comfortably in his hand, as if it were an extension of himself.
"Secure guests. Code black." Mark repeated, the urgency in his voice conveying how important it was everyone do their assigned duties. "Entry point for authorized security teams, south side. Move northwest towards Pavilion. Pull us up on screens, northeast lounge."
"Affirmative, converging as advised." Hunter responded. "ETA, two minutes."
Half-ass listening to the exchange, Red's primary concern was for his new bride. Surely Silas had ushered her to the security of the safe rooms? Or perhaps they were holed up in the suite? His mind ticked away with possibilities, his body tense and on alert.
The men beside him moved with stealth determination across the eerily quiet space, weapons at the ready. All were seasoned professionals, attuned to such incursions.
Why then was Red's mind nagging at him? His mind screamed at him to not delay one second more and take prompt action against whoever caused such a threat.
Hurrying in his steps, he relied on his gut to guide him deeper into the room, and towards that threat.
All jerked their heads to the left as the sound of muffled weapon fire reverberated through the marbled halls.
Rushing about the decorative pool tables and gaming tables dotting the expanse space, Red fell in behind Dembe as they made for the nearest exit.
Inching the door open, Dembe checked the hall before venturing further just as more shots rang out.
"Upstairs!" Mark hissed at guests hiding in a nearby storefront, gesturing them to flee. "Go!"
With cover in place, the people ran off towards the stairs, scurrying like rabbits over hot coals.
Yet another volley of shots rang out, this time more succinctly. It was easier to locate the direction.
"Basement." Red advised tightly.
"Converge on basement, probable location...gun range." Mark alerted security, for he knew his hotel better than anyone present. "Continue to evac guests to safety. Gaines...have your people come in from the south and west."
Turning towards Antonio, who was just behind him and Dembe, Red noted the coolness about the older man. "Can you check on Maria and Lizzy?" He asked respectfully.
The older man's eyes hardened, his jaw tightening. "You think I'm too fucking old–"
"Please," Red grimaced such a thought away, "I trust you to protect the most important people in our lives. That's all this is."
Nodding his assent, Antonio turned. "I'll come the minute I assure they're safe." He said, then headed for the stairwell. Red noted the man had motioned his own security to stay to assist here.
Inching their way towards Mark's office, Dembe silently pointed out the busted lock on the door.
They quickly but efficiently approached the door.
Swinging the door open with a hard kick, Red entered first, Dembe at his back. Daniel took up his immediate right, and Francis...his left. Dembe crossed the empty space, his steps hurried, for two distinct shots caught everyone's attention.
They were more deliberate and precise. Those shots, for some reason, made Red's blood run cold.
Bounding down the stairs, they traversed the corridor needed, exhausting valuable time clearing rooms as they made their way deeper into the underground facility.
Each made their way down the dimly lit passageway until they came upon a network of overlapping corridors. The entourage silently divided forces, each choosing one of several routes leading to and from the gun range.
Edging closer to the range, Red leveled off, aiming his weapon when he immediately noted its doorway had, too, been forced open.
Lifting a stilling hand, Red motioned Francis back as he leaned, listening for anything beyond the damaged doorway.
Ignoring the taut nerves of the young man beside him, Red inched the door open, peering into the dark, foreboding space.
Quietly cursing the limited line of sight, Red's pupils contracted when the unmistakable impression of a shadow streaked across the smooth concrete flooring.
Shouldering his way into the room, Red's sights landed on his target, his finger tightening on the trigger.
"Whoa!" Harper hurriedly raised his hands, stepping into the light provided. "It's a friendly!"
"What the hell's going on?" Red lowered the weapon, his brow furrowed darkly.
"Where the hell d'you come from?" Francis scowled.
"There..." Harper pointed to a doorway leading topside.
"Did you see anyone out there?" Red motioned the direction Harper indicated.
"Nothing..." Harper stalked forward. "All gunfire seemed contained to this area."
"Up top is covered." Mark stalked through an adjacent office, radio in hand, reporting the needed information.
"It's like a fucking maze in here." Francis gestured irritably to Mark's unexpected entrance.
"Coming in on your six." Daniel alerted them to his presence. "How many shooters?" He asked.
All looked at Harper, for he had been on the premises longer.
"Don't know." Harper shook his head. "I was in the gardens," he gestured to his west, "with Lily when that kid... the waiter."
"Steven?" Red ventured a guess.
"Yeah, him. He was booking ass with Maria and his sister, towards the Pavilion, when I heard the gunfire." Harper related. "Crocetti's security was with them. They took Lily, they're hiding out there."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Samantha was safe and out of harm's way... Red brow furrowed, comprehending the words. "Steven left before the gunfire started?"
"Yeah, he was stammering off something about a warning when all the shooting started." Harper said. "Crocetti's people grabbed him... and took off."
Stepping towards the ammunition cabinet, Mark cursed as he stumbled over something in the dark. "Dammit!"
"What the hell is that?" Francis frowned, pointing at the nearby alcove, more specifically the object in which Mark tripped over.
Kneeling, Francis grabbed whatever it was, lifting it for Red's inspection.
Taking the object, Red scowled, turning the shoe in his hand.
Crouching beside Francis, Daniel noted large boots, as they were the preferred style Silas wore. "Tactical boots."
Stepping into the light, Red's blood ran cold as he instantly recognized the soft grey and purple weave.
"... Lizzy." He whispered shakily, his worst fears coming to pass.
Dropping the shoe from his hand unnoticed, Red rushed past Mark and down the corridor just to his right with Dembe hot on his heels.
Red's mind filled with horrible misgivings, one objective in mind and one alone.
Find Elizabeth, secure her safety.
"Fuck!" Francis hissed, sensing the recklessness of his friend and mentor. "That man has got to learn to share his impulses." He grumbled his rising ire, stumbling after the two men.
Several corridors later, with Red and Dembe moving at remarkable speeds, Dembe slowed, alerting Red to an obstacle ahead.
Glancing about Dembe's tall frame, Red could make out a man dressed in dark clothing huddled over a downed figure.
"You move one inch, fucker..." Red's menacing tone filled the silence, "and I'll blow your fucking head off."
The guy arose ever so slowly, lifting his hands inoffensively aloft. "It's me, Red."
Relaxing his stance, Red stalked forward, pissed at the delay. "What the hell are you doing down here?" He jabbed a finger towards the fallen man. "Who is that?"
"It's uh...Matthew." Ben motioned abruptly, slowing lowering his hands. "He's hurt badly, I think. I was trying to help stop the bleeding."
"Matthew!" Red rushed forward, crouching beside the man. Feeling the guard's neck, he breathed a sigh of relief, for the pulse was strong.
"Keep... going." Matthew grimaced, his breaths coming in staggered gasps. "Donovan's office."
"Lizzy... Silas?" Red asked, yanking a handkerchief from his pocket, placing against the wound. Pushing against the soft cloth, he shoved it hard into the wound on the man's pectoral.
"The bastards...want... her." Matthew wheezed, weakly waving away Red's help. "Get to... her."
"They're here for Elizabeth!" Red said, his tone brittle and demanding. "Why!"
"We must go, Raymond." Already, Dembe and Ben headed in the direction needed.
"We got him." Danny gently lay Matthew's head back into a more comfortable position. "I'll stay until the others arrive." He urged the men to continue on.
"They aren't far behind." Mark called back. "Tell them to bring a med-kit and get the units up and running."
Understanding the directive, Daniel nodded curtly. He watched the men disappear down the dark corridor, his face set in a quiet intensity.
"They were looping back around to my office." Mark said, understanding Silas' strategy now.
Dembe put out a restraining hand, cautiously approaching a blind corner. He chanced a glance around the partition. Leaning back against the wall, he relayed the news. "There are many bodies."
Red's eyes widened with an inner panic, rushing around the corner. He breathed his relief when he noted all were male.
Hurrying into the fray, Red bypassed the first downed man, checking the man's condition. The guy was a complete stranger...one with a hole in the side of his head big enough to drive a Mac truck through.
Giving the man no more thought, Red moved on through the strung-out melee of dead men laying here and there down the entire length of the corridor.
"Think of Elizabeth!" Dembe snapped the reminder, shoving Red into a niche and out of harm's way. "Move more cautiously. She will need you."
Slowly peering around the corner, Dembe stepped from the concealment of the alcove.
Staring down the hall, Red stiffened when he caught sight of another body just down the way, laying halfway in, halfway out of a far room. His heart thumped erratically in his chest as his numb legs carried him towards the fallen man.
"Shit!" Red grabbed the doorframe for needed support as he knelt beside the very still figure.
Gently rolling his long-time friend to his back, instinct kicked in. Red's eyes closed, a lump forming in his throat as he searched for a pulse beneath his calloused fingers.
"Silas..." He whispered his relief, for the beat was there, just weak and erratic.
Grunting a soft response, Silas' eyes fluttered, but remained closed. His powerful body lay unmoving and quiet, so unlike his usual animated self.
"He is badly injured." Stepping over the prone figure, Dembe knelt, placing his large palms against the dark stain on Silas' shirt. Leaning, he applied ample pressure to the bleeding wounds.
"Get off me, you big fucker." Silas whispered painfully. "I'm already dying. You don't have to help me along."
"Shut the fuck up." Red hissed, his anger taking precedence. "Where is she!"
Glancing about the room, Red's heart froze when he couldn't find any sign of his wife.
"She better be..." Silas rasped weakly, "headed toward Mark's office, like I told her."
"We'll get her, Silas. You did good." The tightness in the man's tone belied his assurances, he knew.
"Fucking leave..." Silas grumbled. "Wasting time." He stated the obvious. "You're as bad as she... is."
Crouching beside Dembe, Mark's placid expression showed nothing more than grim determination. Nudging Dembe aside, he took it upon himself to maintain the pressure applied to Silas' wounds.
Assured Silas would be well cared for, Red rushed from the room, intent on finding his wife.
Instantly following the man, Dembe hurried to catch up to Raymond, but soon lost him in the labyrinth.
Red's feet pounded heavily against the hard surface of the floor as he sprinted through the winding corridors.
Blocking the surge of distressed chaos overwhelming his mind, he religiously searched the hollow space of the rooms he passed with sanguine eyes, his heart hopeful.
The sound of more gunfire echoed through the darkened space. It was sporadic, with long intervals in between the shots.
Pulling up short, Red shifted his stance, his gun coming to the fore.
"It's me!" Daniel stressed quietly on approach.
Lowering his weapon slightly, Red glanced about. "You get a location on those shots?"
Both men spun about, their sights aimed at a fast-approaching shadow before it ducked into a doorway.
"Coming up behind you!" Michael Fairfax called out down the way, alerting the men of his presence. He came into view, cautiously peering about the doorframe. "It's clear this direction," he motioned behind him. "What do you got?"
"You've been here longer than we have." Danny narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell does that mean?" Michael scowled darkly.
"No time!" Red hissed, waving off further questions. "Find Elizabeth, now!" The sharp command bespoke of his fear and trepidation.
Three shots echoed down the darkened corridors without a beginning or end, biting at the nerves of the men caught in the middle.
Paired off or solo, each man picked a different direction, all of them listening acutely, straining to hear something of value...anything to help locate one small, helpless female.
Beyond frustrated, Red felt the panic inside reaching an explosive crescendo the more the minutes endlessly ticked by. One second felt like an eternity.
Creeping along, he closed his eyes, hoping to heighten his senses. He prayed God would guide him on the needed path.
"We made a pact..." Red whispered the reminder to the benevolent being. "You take me... not her."
Where there had been gunfire and voices speaking over one another, now there was nothing, and he didn't know whether to be terrified or relieved. The silence was more deafening than the gunfire, and definitely more troublesome.
With the weapons shooting, he knew the bastards were still after their target.
Without them...
Had she been taken down? Was she hiding somewhere, waiting for him to arrive? Was she lying somewhere dark and cold, bleeding out like Matthew... like Silas?
Was Lizzy already dead...
Shaking his head, Red wiped away the thought just as rapidly as it came.
She couldn't be! He would know it in his heart, for his heart would surely shatter the minute Elizabeth was taken from him... whether he was there or not.
How could he have failed her to this extent? How could he have failed his friends?
Who were the fuckers who dared go after the thing he loved most in this world? Whoever they were, and he would find them eventually...they would pay for this moment. For putting him through this particular type of hell.
"What the fucking hell is going on here!"
Red's breath caught as Francis' livid voice echoed down the empty space.
Turning, Red ran the needed direction, willing for someone to speak again, so he could pinpoint their exact location.
"Francis, point that gun in my direction again..." the Englishman's tone held a definite measure of annoyance, "and I'll beat you to death with it."
Gasping his shock, Red instantly recognized the voice as that of Michael Fairfax.
"Let her go." Francis snarled the warning. The man's tone was deathly quiet, so unlike the young, impish boy Red knew, it unsettled him greatly.
Sensing Dembe was close, he slowed his gait, approaching the situation stealthily now.
Chancing a quick peek into the room, Red found his worst nightmare become reality.
Elizabeth, down on her knees, head bowed... surrounded by three armed men.
In her attempt to remain invisible, the woman remained stick still, which proved a difficult feat. Even at this distance, he could see the visible trembling in her body. He feared, as she sought to control her breathing, she would faint from overexertion.
Fighting every instinct inside him which screamed... go to her, Red battled against a war within his mind. He sought a measure of sanity in this insane quandary he found himself, and Elizabeth, trapped in.
Scenarios ran rampant in his mind, none of which provided him with a concrete method to remove Elizabeth safely from this situation.
He thought he knew what it felt like to be helpless when he listened to Edward attacking Elizabeth, or when Carver held them captive.
It wasn't until this moment, however; he realized he was truly unable to form any sort of plan to rectify the problem set before him.
All he knew with absolute certainty. One misstep on his part could prove disastrous, if not cataclysmic, for Elizabeth... and him.
He had never felt so inept... so paralyzed.
Glancing back at the situation at hand, Red felt his blood pressure rise to dangerous levels.
What had been a low-level hum in his ears was now a deafening whir he couldn't silence. The blood surging through his veins sent a constant, and painful burning thrum through his jaw down into his chest.
The tension was insane...
All stood locked in a standoff; no one daring to retreat...none chancing any sort of advancement or even movement. They stood frozen in time, like statues, faces masked and rigid.
What was worse, Red didn't know who to kill, aside from Francis, who appeared to be in the same predicament, for the young man stiffly waved his weapon between the men opposite him. The barrel was pin-pointed on each man's forehead, but a tight, grim expression bespoke of indecision and turmoil inside the young man's mind.
"Calm the hell down, boy," Michael muttered tightly. "You don't understand what's happening here, Francis."
Red met the disbelief in Dembe's dark eyes. He shook his own head, bewilderment having set in. Michael Fairfax was one of his oldest, dearest friends, and here the man stood, gun pointed at his beloved Elizabeth.
"No, we don't." Shifting his attention, Red watched Daniel step slowly out of the darkness, his own weapon trained from behind the antagonists. "But he has an ally now...so I wouldn't make any hasty moves, gentlemen."
Readjusting the grip on his weapon, Francis' face set in stone. Did he trust anyone at this stage of the game...no.
Still unsure of any supposed allegiance, the weapon Francis held on Daniel and Michael now landed squarely on the Englishman.
"I don't have to understand anything, but that you...let her the hell go." Francis' already cold tone turned brittle. "Nothing you say will ever make me understand this shit, anyway!"
Darting his attention to his right, Francis locked eyes on those of his own best-friend. "What the fuck, Ben! What are you doing? Pointing a gun at...Lizzy?" His disbelief was palpable. "Have you gone out of your fucking mind?"
Red's heart broke when Lizzy turned her head slowly, her tear-stained eyes meeting Ben Gilchrist's. He swallowed at the bile surging his throat when the woman remained silent and returned to her former position... a bleakness etching her expression.
Did she blame herself for this fucking mess? Did she somehow think it was her fault?
"Do you know how valuable she is in the larger scheme of things?" Michael said slowly. "How important?"
"She's important to me," Francis gritted angrily, "so I have a pretty good inkling."
Liz's eyes sought out her friend, a soft light shining within.
"This goes beyond some measly emotional attachment, Francis." Michael laid it out. "She's worth millions to some people. Besides that, her death equals unimaginable power."
"You're a fucking moron if you think I'm gonna let you just walk out of here after you kill her." Francis cocked his weapon. "You kill her... fuck, you hurt her," he didn't limit his scope, "I kill you. It's that simple."
Lizzy's expression altered to frantic fear. She shook her head slightly, staring wide-eyed at her friend.
Though Elizabeth was unaware of his presence, Red silently willed the woman to keep her mouth shut and remain on the down low.
He wanted desperately for her to know he was near, but could not chance it as yet, for the tension in the room demanded he remain on the outskirts... and allow the situation to play out. He needed to give Francis time to instill reason, where there was none.
"You can't begin to understand the depth of depravity the men who want her dead have obtained." Michael kept his weapon trained on the man opposite him. "The power they have behind them."
"I can't begin to understand the depth of depravity you've sunk to." Daniel stated quietly. "Not only to allow this to happen...but to be a part of it."
"I'm not part of it, you idiots." Michael disdained. "I'm trying to explain it to you, in terms you will understand and accept."
"There are no terms I will accept... but put your fucking weapon down. That will be something I can accept." Francis motioned accordingly.
Michael's face hardened. "I can't do that, boy. Not at this stage."
"And you?" Francis turned his attention to Ben Gilchrist. "What the fuck is this, Ben? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? What did you hope to accomplish here?"
"Man...let me explain. This is all wrong. I never wanted...this." He motioned to a silent, visibly weeping Elizabeth Reddington. "It's all gone...wrong. We were just going to turn her over as a bargaining chip. That's all it was on my part, I swear. No one was going to hurt her."
"Let me guess, to the Cabal." Francis hoped like hell he'd said that word right. And he obviously had, for Michael blinked his surprise and Ben...swallowed hard, the man's hand tightening on the grip of his weapon.
Francis's face blanched of color, but he remained moot.
"They want the Fulcrum." Ben explained. "I know you don't know what that is. Reddington wants it too. That's probably why he hooked up with her, man. What other woman has he bothered with before."
Red glanced to his Lizzy. If the words registered, she did not let on, simply knelt, head bowed.
"Look...this can be salvaged." Ben grasped at straws. "They're not stupid enough to hurt her. Reddington would be beyond pissed. It's not a good move on their part, right? They just want her, so he'll back off."
Francis simply looked at the man.
"They will eventually get the Fulcrum...and then there may not be an issue, but by that time, Reddington will have figured a way out of this shit. He always does." Ben tried a smile. "No harm, no foul."
"You think that won't happen this time?" Francis sneered. "That Red won't figure out a way to... end this?" Even now, Francis could sense Red nearby... waiting for his opening.
Swallowing heavily, Ben's forehead pinched into an indecisive scowl. "You won't believe the price they are willing to pay, Francis." He reasoned. "It will set me up for life. You're already there. Don't begrudge me a spot, man. I earned it...just like you had to."
"You're a fucking idiot!" Francis spat his contempt. "Loyalty to Red is more important than anything out there. He would have taken care of anything you needed. You fool!"
"I don't take his fucking charity." Ben grated. "I'm going to do this on my own, with...or without you."
Francis nodded slowly. "I see." His voice lacked any emotion one way or another.
"Your loyalty to Reddington will get you killed, if you keep hanging out with him... and her." Ben looked down at the woman kneeling before them. "She's the problem here, Francis. Not me."
"You should know better than to turn your back on Red." Francis may not know what was going on, but he knew Red and his track record. That itself spoke volumes. "He'll take these guys down, just like he does everyone else."
"Red is one man fighting against a fucking army." Ben grunted. "You don't know these people like I do. Nothing is going to stop them."
"Ben's right, Francis." Michael nodded quietly. "They won't stop until they're stopped, every last one."
"Red has survived twenty-plus years. Can they say the same of their players?" Francis asked of both men. "You're fucking delusional! They come and go...Red stays."
"If it's not me, it'll be someone else, obviously." Ben said, looking at Michael. "Why shouldn't it be me?"
The light went on over Francis's head, leaving him livid. "You hired Carver, didn't you?" he realized with such clarity, it boggled his mind.
"No, that idiot Xenakis did." Ben scoffed. "Thought he'd get an edge over the competition."
Francis took his time in thinking out his suppositions. "You killed the man out by the fence."
Danny glanced at the quiet Englishman across from him. "Did you kill the other one? Are you both in this together?"
"I didn't kill anyone...yet." Michael stated succinctly.
"They were encroaching on my take. And they had outlived their usefulness." Ben shrugged. "Oh, it's not like you kill people at all, is it, Francis. Don't fucking judge me."
Red suddenly remembered back, when Carver had mentioned cutting off Edward Costa's dick...that somehow, Red had meant it as an homage to that sick bastard.
He had wondered how Carver had known about that, but above all else, how it was possible the man bypassed Mark's stellar security.
Now he knew.
Ben had been in attendance the night of Edward's attack. He saw firsthand the damage Red inflicted on that bastard. He obviously related the tale to the dead guy, Xenakis, who, in turn, shared the gory details with Carver before he gained access to Red's suite... where the sicko shared his own thoughts on Red's actions.
It all made sense now...
The answer had been in front of him the whole time, and Red missed it. It angered him that he missed that important detail... that red flag, which clearly indicated danger was present.
"You fucking prick!" Francis snarled his disgust, shaking Red from his inner thoughts. "You knew and didn't stop the bastard!" he yelled. "The shit that sicko did to innocent people...women!"
"It didn't matter!" Ben spat. "What does it matter how you fucking die? Reddington had to go. She had to go. They're living on borrowed time, man! Don't you get it?"
"They're family, you asshole." Francis seethed. "You don't sell them out. And you certainly don't sic some psycho slasher on them. You don't turn your back on family!"
"She's FBI, idiot." Ben groused.
"I don't care if she's Jimmy fucking Hoffa!" Francis yelled angrily. "She married Red, she chose us!"
"You're so gullible, Francis." Ben laughed derisively. "You think she wouldn't turn you in if it gave her a bump up the ladder?"
"No, I don't. Because me and her, we're closer than family." Francis believed the words. "We're tighter than brother and sister, because we chose each other."
"If you believe that, then you deserve what's coming to you." Ben dropped the gun, pushing it against Liz's head.
A small gasp escaped the woman who, up until this time, had held her peace through the entire tirade Ben lavished upon those gathered.
Tensing, Daniel leveled his weapon on Ben, though he darted his eyes back towards Michael every few seconds.
"I could say the same for you." Francis replied, his tone a biting one. "Don't...even...think about it. Cause you are a dead man walking if you believe you will live to collect any money from this sick farce."
Waving Dembe back, Red slowly stepped into the hazy light, alerting the men to his presence. He was very cautious about making any hasty movements, his steps slow and calculated.
His only concern, his purpose, was getting closer to Elizabeth.
Francis exhaled a shaky breath as Red stepped into view, for he knew... all were about to face a reckoning, and it terrified him.
"The Cabal lied to you." Red controlled the anger in his voice, his need for revenge...his need to kill. "Listen to what I'm saying. It may be the only thing to save your life."
Red held his expression when Ben pushed his gun harder into Elizabeth's head, making the woman wince.
"You give them her...they'll leave you alone. They won't hurt her." Ben's eyes showed his rising fear and apprehension. "She'll tell them where the Fulcrum is, and it will all be over. It's all they really want."
"They're wrong...as usual. I have the Fulcrum and have had it for a while now." Red assured. "If it's money you want...name your price."
"What, you're willing to offer more." Ben scoffed.
"Sure, I could offer more. I could lie to you, but I think you're at least smart enough to realize...regardless of the outcome here," Red glared hatefully at the man, "...you're dead."
Understanding he was surrounded, and the chances of him walking out of here were slim to none... Ben fell silent. What he needed was a distraction of some kind, something to give him the chance to bolt.
"You're better than this, Ben." Francis pleaded. "I know you are. Please," he pleaded, "let me help you."
"How can you help me, Francis?" The man lifted amused eyes. "You heard the man. I'm dead...either way."
"Let me talk to him." Francis asked gently. "Just help Lizzy up." Panic tinged his voice, for he felt Red's patience had reached its limit. "That's all you have to do here." He couldn't allow his eyes to leave his friend's face, however. Francis watched every nuance of expression. "You're...like my brother, man. This is killing me."
Ben lifted solemn eyes. "I am sorry for that."
Danny took the chance, his bulk moving at remarkable speed for one his size. Blind-siding Ben, his massive hands gripped the front of Liz's shirt, yanking her roughly towards him on his way past.
Red moved the few steps needed, his hand gripping the wrist holding Ben's weapon, twisting it viciously up and away from Liz's vicinity.
He struggled with the younger man's strength.
"Stop!" Francis yelled a warning, his voice wavering with emotion.
Michael was suddenly in the breech of things...he too, latched onto Ben's body, taking the man down to the cold cement floor. Dembe hurried into the fray, grabbing for Ben's arm.
The struggle ensued Ben kicked and fought for his very life.
Shoving the woman forward, Daniel hurriedly wrapped himself about the small, trembling body, sheltering Elizabeth from the melee taking place.
Placing his body between where he perceived Danny and Elizabeth to be, Red hoped to shield any stray bullets with might be fired.
Fighting with remarkable strength, Ben managed to wrestle an arm out from under the pile. Red growled painfully as Ben hit him across the temple with the gun clutched firmly in his hand.
"Raymond!" Dembe barked as Red rolled to the side in a stunned stupor, his temple covered in blood.
In Dembe's distraction, Ben jerked his elbow back, striking Michael in the face.
"Shit!" Michael grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut against the biting tears.
Angrily shaking off the blackness which descended from the powerful hit, Red once again lunged for his protagonist just as Ben struggled to his feet and aimed the weapon in his hand at Dembe.
"No!" Red snarled his rage as he hit out, his fist connecting solidly with Ben's jaw just as the man pulled at the trigger.
Lurching aside, Dembe dodged the wild shot, throwing himself from the bullet's path. The projectile struck the wall behind him, shattering on impact.
Red felt a sort of satisfaction as Ben stumbled back and away from both Elizabeth and Dembe, tripping over his own feet in the process.
Hitting a table beside him, Ben fell haphazardly over the top just as Michael rushed forward, grabbing a fistful of the man's jacket. Holding firm, Michael leaned into Ben's back, preventing any sort of escape.
Shifting about, Ben's face was a raging mask of fury as he pointed the weapon in his fist at the men behind him, specifically his captor.
Throwing himself towards Daniel and Elizabeth, Red hurriedly shielded the two from the ensuing shot. "Get down!"
"Ah!" Michael cried out, doubling over, his body jerking spasmodically as the point-blank shot tore through his flesh.
The air suddenly filled with the burning stench of gunpowder, angered voices, and the loud report of yet another weapon firing.
The following silence was beyond deafening.
Jerking about, Red hurriedly glanced over his shoulder to find Francis standing stock still, his weapon gripped firmly in hand.
The man's hardened eyes followed Ben's collapse as the man fell lifeless to the floor.
Shifting his attention, Red grimaced as he noted the gaping hole in Ben's temple, seconds before the stark emptiness in the man's eyes.
Falling to his knees, Red gathered Liz's stiff body close, crushing the air out of her lungs.
"Elizabeth..." Red gasped fearfully, tightening his grasp on the crying woman seconds before the floodgates opened.
Collapsing in his arms, Lizzy shook uncontrollably as she sobbed wretchedly into his chest. Clawing at his jacket, she grabbed him in a death grip, unable... unwilling to let go.
"It's over, baby," he soothed shakily, kissing her temple, "...it's over."
Too overwrought, too devastated, she went limp against him. Only his arms kept her from collapsing to the floor.
Scooting unobtrusively back out of the way, Daniel made his way over to Michael Fairfax, examining the man's wound meticulously.
Francis, gun still locked on his target, walked closer, staring down at the crumpled form. The man's eyes were as empty and cold as the body itself was becoming.
A shot shattered the silence, startling all.
Snarling a pained cry, Francis jolted forward, staggering in his steps before dropping to his knees. The resounding crack as he hit the unforgiving floor rankled Red's already shot nerves.
Unable to grab anything to stop his descent, Francis threw his arm out seconds before he landed face down on the unforgiving pavement, pushing the air from his lungs in a savage grunt.
"Francis!" Liz cried out, reaching frantically for the fallen man.
Responding gunfire echoed loudly in the small room, as did a feminine scream.
Red startled as Lizzy jerked sharply in his arms. Hastily looking down at the woman, his breath caught in the horror of the moment, only to release in the next instance when he found the small body was safe and protected in his arms.
Securing the woman in his embrace, Red held her tight against him as Lizzy stared horrified over his shoulder...the blue eyes wide with distress and awe.
Following the woman's line of sight, he watched Amy Reese stagger out of the dark and fall just a few feet from Ben's lifeless body.
Hunter Gaines stepped into the room, lowering his weapon to his side, a look of subdued quietness about the man.
Clutching her chest and gasping, Mark stood over Amy, his own weapon trained on the still lovely face. His eyes were hard, holding no compassion.
"Who are you?" Mark asked coldly, mindless of the red stain clotting now on the front of the woman's clothing.
Turning her head, Amy looked away towards Ben, her eyes closing wearily, tears threatening.
"He asked you a question." Hunter Gaines knelt beside the female, his tone an impersonal one.
Picking up the weapon she dropped, Mark placed it against the woman's forehead, cocking the hammer back.
"Vanessa Carlson." The woman panted, pain registering on the pale face.
"Was there a real Amy Reese?" Gaines wanted some answers.
"Ben's fiancé..." she wheezed, "killed herself after Edward Costa..." She turned her eyes away, grimacing. "She...was a friend. She loved...Ben. And after a while...so did I."
Grimacing away from the new chain of events, Daniel returned his attention to the wound in Michael's side, pushing his bandana hard against the holes in the man's flesh.
"You two... we could have helped you, stupid idiots!" Mark growled his fury. "We were here for you. What a fucking waste!"
Amy... Vanessa, who smiled listlessly up at the handsome face, started gasping for air, then slowly went limp, the light fading from her pretty eyes.
"Oh, my god!" Liz cried out, struggling in Red's hold. "Please, let me help him!"
Allowing Elizabeth her freedom, Red hurried after the woman as she scrambled to Francis' side.
Crawling on her hands and knees, Liz's feet slipped on the slick floor as she struggled to reach Francis' location. Grabbing the man's black shirt, her face leeched of color when her hands came away covered with blood.
"Oh my god, Francis!" Her terror-filled voice shook.
Red startled as he noted the blood spotting Lizzy's side. Grabbing for the woman, he pulled her roughly his way, uncertain what injuries she may have sustained.
Dembe stepped to Francis' side, assisting the sluggishly struggling man to his knees.
"I'm alright, Lizzy." Francis sounded anguished, a mere echo of his usual vital self.
Hastily scanning Lizzy's body with a critical eye, Red was relieved none of the blood on her clothing was her own. It was rather unsettling, however, when he realized the blood splatter covering her body appeared to have originated from both Ben... and Francis.
"I'm so sorry, Francis." Liz gulped her own tears in gasping breaths of torment. "God, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault!"
"Stop..." Francis shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "It's not your fault, at all." His hand stroked her hair, blood filtering into the silken strands. "As long as you're okay now. That's what matters."
Francis' filled eyes spilled over as he looked at Ben, laying silent on the ground.
Red watched the young man's breathing increase into a panicked state he was unable to control the longer his eyes remained fixed on the growing pool of blood covering the gray floor.
Unsteadily grabbing the chair beside him, Francis' hand shook uncontrollably as he comprehended the full weight of his actions.
"...Ben." Francis whispered shakily, as if hoping the man would respond.
Crushing the man in a bear hug of an embrace, Red wasn't the least bit surprised to feel Francis' body tense and straining with pain and emotion... just as distraught as Elizabeth was, in his own way, Red knew.
What had it taken for Francis to pull that trigger? How much had it taken out of the young man to make that decision to choose Elizabeth and kill Ben...his friend... his family, Red wondered.
Liz's lips trembled witnessing her best friend experience such a tragic loss. "...Francis." She whimpered despondently.
Gripping Lizzy tightly around the waist, Francis buried his face into the woman's neck, sobbing brokenly. "I killed Ben, Lizzy." He choked on his pain. "I...killed him."
Tucking them both into his embrace, Red stroked the Francis' head as he leaned his forehead into Lizzy's dark hair, closing his eyes, grateful beyond measure both were alive.
"Thank you, Francis... thank you..." he murmured his gratitude. "I can never, ever repay you. Not ever. I know," he whispered his commiseration, "I know what it took."
"Francis, you all right" Daniel asked quietly, having watched the developing scene now from afar for a few minutes.
"No..." Francis rasped through the tears. "No...that's not what I am."
Pulling back quickly, Red checked on the kid's wound, blowing out a slow breath. Thankfully, the bullet went straight through the man's shoulder. It wasn't life threatening, but painful as hell, Red realized. He had been there...done that.
Though Red was positive... Francis wasn't feeling that particular pain just yet. Other pain...yes.
"Now, what the fuck are we gonna do with you?" Danny turned on Michael, who lay quietly, holding his stomach where blood spotted his fingers and crisp, white shirt.
"Just because I know about the Fulcrum doesn't mean shit." Michael explained heatedly. "Everyone who's known Red as long as I have knows about the Cabal."
"Forgive me if we don't find comfort in that." Mark sneered. "Ben here just turned fucking traitor. Who says you haven't?"
"I wasn't here to hurt Elizabeth." Michael grimaced as Dembe and Hunter Gaines lifted him to his feet.
Taking the zip ties Hunter handed him, Dembe stepped in behind Michael, securing the man's arms behind his back.
"Thank you, Dembe. Nothing like zip-ties to make a man's wounds feel so much better." Michael sought Red's eyes. "I know the drill." He mused. "Tell Susan please...I will be late getting in tonight, I should imagine."
Holding the man's eyes, Red silently watched Dembe and Hunter escorting Michael from the room.
Hunching forward, Francis braced his hands on his thighs, shaking, crying jaggedly.
Creeping closer to her friend, Liz tentatively wrapped her arms about the man as Danny cupped Francis' head, offering his silent support.
"You stupid son of a bitch..." Francis sobbed mournfully, balling Lizzy's shirt in his fists.
Rubbing his hand along Francis' back, Red vaguely heard security through the radio, calling an all clear.
"Francis, we need to take care of your shoulder." Red murmured gently. "We also need to check on Silas."
"Silas?" The young man came out of his stupor, straightening slowly.
"What?" Liz's mouth gasped her shock, the blue eyes wide and fearful once again. "Silas is...fine. He said he was going to be..." Realization dawned. "Is he not...okay?"
Wiping his face with the back of his arm, Francis slowly pushed to stand with Daniel's help. "Nothing can hurt that big fucker, Lizzy." he murmured. "Let's go see for ourselves."
Mark came alongside his friend, blocking sight of Ben's body from the man's view.
Removing the radio from his hip, Red keyed it. "Dembe, where are you?"
"Main hall." Came the stoic reply.
Liz gripped his arm with shaky fingers, the color draining from her face entirely. "Silas was alright when I..." she remembered back. "No...no, he w-wasn't! He wasn't, Red!"
"Calm down. We found him. Let's go see him." Red hastily took charge of the moment, his arm about her waist, guiding gently. "Come on, Francis. We'll get you medical assistance."
"We gotta get to him, Red." Liz looked to Red in a panic. "I have to see him. I have to e-explain why I left."
"He already knows the why of it, baby." Red smoothed her hair. "Hell, he demanded you leave. I know he did." He now understood Silas' earlier grumbling.
"Dembe, are you still there?" He said into the radio. "We need an update on Silas' condition." He looked at his wife, smiling softly down at her terror-filled eyes.
"Silas is in surgery." Dembe's tone replied evenly. "Dr. Lister has been in with him since..." he trailed off. "We are waiting it out."
Liz's eyes grew larger, her manner more frantic.
"Hey." Francis came alongside, hobbling with Mark's help, his knees bruised. "You know Silas. He's always show-boating. He'll come out of this fine...wanting a raise."
Liz attempted a weak smile, nodding... hopefully.
"And Matthew?" Red's voice was grim.
"He took a hit to the chest, but Lister says he will recover after rest and rehab." Dembe was happier to report on his comrade. "He's occupying a bed in the ICU unit the team set up."
Passing his injured friend off to Daniel, Mark motioned he would stay behind to act as clean up until the pros came on site.
Red nodded his gratitude.
"We're on our way to your location." Red advised.
LIZZINGTON
Author Notes: Sorry if there are any mistakes! My mouse was dying and trying to erase things along the way.