Chapter Three
After Midnight
Madeline returned home a few days later. It was only a short time away from everything going on with Red, and whilst he and the team assigned to him worked to find a prestigious killer, she set in motion the plans for the job he had assigned her to. She was able to take a step away from them all without rousing any suspicion, that her job as a doctor required her to have permission to actually leave Red's side, and she vehemently refused any special treatment or to be babysat like Red was currently being. She had to remind them that whilst yes, she knew Red, it didn't mean that she was dangerous like him, too, which had only seemed to make Red smirk from his seat. She didn't need a chaperone; she wasn't a threat.
And with that, she was let go. Despite their promise to not chaperone her, she was still cautious on her way home. She walked mostly, feeling the cold bitter day more after being confined in a conveniently warm hotel room for the past few days. She could feel their eyes on her up until she turned down a road, then hiding down an alleyway until they passed her, she went the other way and headed back to her apartment.
A quaint little apartment above a coffee shop, she almost raced up the endless stairs with such energy that it surprised her. She opened the door and shut it again in a swift motion, locking it behind her before looking through the peephole. No movement, nothing. She was grateful that her quick thinking of hiding down an alleyway and behind a smelly bin had made them lose her. She had three days before she was expected back at the hotel with Red, she didn't have time to waste. She packed a bag quickly, throwing in only the necessities she needed.
Red had told her his jet would leave at noon, and looking at her watch now, she saw it was 11:15. Dembe would meet her outside her apartment in a black SUV in less than five minutes and they would travel to the airport. She moved fast, instinct kicking in. She pulled out the trunk underneath her bed and opened it, her gut sinking as her eyes moved across the multiple wigs she kept in there, all of them having played a part in her life as an assassin. The multiple identities she'd adopted and become, the lives she'd infiltrated and destroyed, the lies she weaved, the hurt she caused.
Her skin prickled with unease. And here she was again, dipping her toe back into the dark water, unaware of how deep the depth truly was this time. It was the one thing she promised she would never do again, promised herself that she would always do good things from the moment she escaped that life. But one thing she didn't have last time was Red waiting to pull her from the water before it completely engulfed her. It had destroyed her, completely tore her down, made her a shell of her former self and she'd had to rebuild her life brick by brick. And he had found her, stumbling upon her when she needed saving herself and being pulled from the wreckage.
Grabbing her bag and heading out the door, she took the opportunity to look back at the apartment. Everything in there had been something she'd fought hard to save, to protect from the darkness that never strayed too far from her. She'd fought tooth and nail to have a normal life, to never get lost in the whirlwind of that life again. She wondered if she would return home the same person as the one leaving. She promised herself that it wouldn't change her. She wouldn't let that happen.
..
Dembe was already waiting outside for her, parked on a side street to remain inconspicuous and away from prying eyes. He knew all too well that his departure, similar to Madeline's, would raise suspicion and he kept his attention on the black SUV similar to his own had been following him since he left the hotel. He thought he was going to be late picking her up, with the amount of wrong turns he decided to take. Red's orders were clear: get her to the jet without them knowing.
"Ah, Miss Madeline," he smiled when he opened the door for her. She looked rushed, pale from nerves. She offered him a smile in response and it was only when she was inside the vehicle, safe and hidden from view that she relaxed.
"You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Dembe," she said, honestly. She rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze from her seat behind him. The darkened windows allowed her to be hidden, and she took the opportunity to begin the change.
Dembe started driving, slow at first, his attention moving to the vehicles around him. He couldn't afford them to be spotted, if it looked as though he was simply running errands for Red, returning to the hotel in a few hours wouldn't be enough for the agents to question his every moves. Red had given him another order: grab some books from an independent bookstore that he'd requested so that upon his return, they wouldn't think twice about where he'd been or what he'd been doing when he was away from them. He turned on the radio station, soft tunes playing into the vehicle as she changed into an outfit that resembled what she imagined Agent Keen to wear. It was a simple black yet tailored dress with black heels to match. She found the wig, a brunette shade, and placed it on her head, aligning it perfectly. Her make up was simple, a blush, a playful pink on her lips and a small amount of eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara.
She finished just as the SUV pulled up to the jet.
"Thank you, Dembe," she smiled, returning the fist bump he reached out to her.
"Red tells me to come get you in the morning," Dembe said, informing her. "Good luck, not that you need it."
She was doubtful but she didn't show it. "See you later."
She made to turn, heading towards the air stewardess waiting for her. She turned back to Dembe. "Keep an eye on him, Dembe. You know what he's like."
Dembe gave her a wink and a nod. He waited until the jet took flight before he headed to the bookstore before returning to the hotel. Just before he reached the hotel, he took the opportunity to gather himself for five minutes. It was all he needed. As soon as he stepped back into the hotel, the agents would be suffocating him with their presence, and he would have to endure their watchful eyes until Red was done playing his game with them. He was a loyal companion to Red, and whilst the man knew he could trust him to the bitter end, Dembe understood the severity of every situation he would find himself in with Red. Even with a gun pressed to his head, he knew. And Raymond Reddington knew, too.
Dembe wasn't sure whether that petrified him. To know that he would give his life up to protect a man who, just like he had, had only shown him respect, loyalty and friendship.
But it always came with a consequence.
And he would always be the one to fall.
..
"Raymond Reddington instructed me to give this to you when you boarded," the air stewardess, a woman named Lindsey, handed her an envelope. "He also instructed for you to enjoy these complimentary gifts. He was very adamant that you got them."
Madeline smiled, "Thank you, Lindsey. I appreciate it."
The mere mention of her own name caused Lindsey to falter a little, a small but appreciative smile etching across her face. "If there's anything you need, Miss, please don't hesitate to ask."
Madeline watched the woman return behind the curtain. She took a moment to observe her surroundings, completely overwhelmed that the private jet was only for her. She'd been on it before with Raymond, on their way to Barcelona, but she couldn't remember anything except for Raymond and how he only had eyes for her. His hands caressing her face, his fingers running through her hair, the way he held he close to his body as his mouth devoured her own. And now here she was, sitting alone in his chair, with only herself for company.
She opened the envelope first, his familiar scrawl on the front of it. Her eyes scanned his writing, and the voice in her head became his for just a moment.
Dear Madeline,
I so wish that I was able to be on that plane with you, but alas, I have some incredibly watchful eyes upon my being at the moment. I understand what I have asked you to do is something that you never imagined to ever do again, and whilst I hope you know how regretful and guilt-ridden I am about it, I just wanted to take the opportunity to show you my gratitude.
When you return, I'm taking you away. Remember our trip to Barcelona? I cannot forget how incredible it was. I always promised to take you back there.
I hope you like your gift.
You drive me crazy, Mads.
With love, R. x
Madeline moved towards the gift. Inside the decorative bag, a small box was inside. She lifted it out with a furrowed brow and opened it hesitantly. It was a key. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what it could mean, and where the key belonged to.
She sipped at her champagne as she eyed the key in her hand. It was only when she flipped it a couple of times did she notice the inscription on the arch of it. It was co-ordinates. Even away from him, he still enjoyed a riddle or a puzzle.
It would have to be for another time.
She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. She wondered whether she should try to sleep, but knew it was best to wait until she landed. She only had a small fraction of time before she was heading back to New York, and back with Raymond.
"Hey, Lindsey… would you mind keeping me company for a little while?"
..
Nebraska was cold. That was what Madeline noticed first after stepping off the jet. A car was already waiting for her, but she wasn't surprised at how thorough Red had been when it came to planning things: he was always a man whose attention to detail was point, thorough and meticulous, Red always had things in motion. It could've been something as simple as dinner at a restaurant, or as big as murdering an old friend of his. He always cared.
The car ride to the hospital was a quiet one, and it was only when the car pulled up outside the hospital had she realised that her mind had drifted somewhat. Madeline always tried to not think about the task in hand, and after having so many years out of that life, she understood how easy it was to slip back into that mindset. But she didn't allow herself that. She couldn't have that. In and out, was Red's instruction. And that's what she was planning to do. Find his room and do the job. The jet was going to remain there until midnight and if she was done by then, she could return home as if nothing happened.
She always hated hospitals. She remembered sitting in the corridor of the morgue at only eighteen awaiting to identify her parents bodies. She had this great big void in her chest where literally nothing was there as if her whole heart had been ripped from her chest cavity and there was nothing that would ever come close to filling it again. She'd been numb for a long time afterwards, which didn't surprise her. Time passed, but still the chaotic mess of grief remained within her for a long time. She remembered sitting in that corridor, wanting the ground to open and swallow her up, and she nearly ran for the door. But he had been there.
Standing at the end of the corridor, his hat removed from his head and in his hand respectfully, his eyes never wavering from her. He'd held her close until it was time to identify her parents. But he didn't let her; he knew what that felt like and how it still tarnished him then. He wouldn't allow her to look at her dead parents lying there on the table, he would never forgive himself.
She would head into the warmth of the SUV waiting outside, accompanied by Dembe who offered her the silence she needed. Red hadn't been too long, and he hadn't told her much afterwards, just that it was them and for Dembe to take her back to his house.
Madeline soon found the room and noticed the man lying in the bed. He coughed, spluttering as he did so. Now she understood why Red had asked her to complete the job. Sam Scott was his friend, a companion of his from years before. She'd heard his name in conversation, knew that he was a dear friend of Red's.
Something made him glance towards the door, his eyes softening as he observed her. A small smile etched across his face, tired and pained.
"You haven't changed," he whispered, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "Your parents would be so proud of you."
Madeline faltered and offered him all she could muster. "Hello, Sam."
"He's sent you, hasn't he? I was hoping he would offer me the decency of doing it himself."
Madeline stepped into the room and slowly moved towards the chair. "You know he would've if he could. He's currently preoccupied with some agents, one of whom you know."
"So, she's met him?"
Madeline offered a nod.
"And what she think of him?" Sam asked, his eyes twinkling as he already knew the answer.
"I can't speak for her, but I think she finds him confusing," Madeline smiled. "And annoying."
"She still doesn't know the truth?"
Madeline shook her head. "No. You're still her dad."
Sam coughed, fright flashing across his face. Madeline grabbed him a glass of water. He sipped at it slowly. Once he was settled, he offered her a nod. "I don't want her to hate me."
"Why would she hate you?" Madeline asked, furrowing her brow.
Sam took a moment to reflect. "Because this isn't Raymond's idea. It's mine. I made him promise me that when the time came for me to meet my end, for him to be the one to do it. And I know why you're here—"
"—because he doesn't want to say goodbye, not like this," Madeline whispered, reaching out for his hand. He squeezed it in return, and nodded.
"He's still a great friend until the bitter end," Sam said sadly. "So, how are you going to do it?"
Madeline thought for a moment. She glanced out the window at the view outside, at the heavy grey sky and the moodiness of the clouds and wondered if it was a representation of how she felt inside. She returned her gaze to him. "I'm not. I'm giving you your time; I'm not going to be the grim reaper and take that decision away from you. You tell me when you want to go, and I'll be there."
"I'm ready," Sam whispered, his eyes filling up with tears. "Lizzie is coming to visit next week. And she thinks I'm at home, healthy. If she finds out I lied to her about how sick I am, that the cancer's come back and it's worse than before, and that I'm here in a hospital bed that I know I'm never going to leave, I know I've failed her as a father."
Madeline shook her head. "You've done a selfless thing, Sam."
They sat there for an hour, talking. Madeline watched the way his eyes lit up whenever he talked about Elizabeth, and it was lovely to see. She wondered, deep down, whether she would be able to walk out of the room once the deed was done without the immense guilt clutching at her heart, suffocating her. Could she go through with it? The man spoke with such life, telling her stories from when he was wrong, when he and Red would meet up and share similar stories as they were, that it was hard for her to understand just how unwell he was. It was only when he would hide the bloodied tissue that he'd used to cover his mouth when he coughed that she knew.
He knew, that the end was near.
"I don't see you as my grim reaper," Sam told her. "So please don't be plagued with such guilt. Raymond asked you to do us both a favour because he trusts you, Madeline. He doesn't trust many people."
Madeline simply squeezed his hand.
"Could you pass me my cell phone? I need to make a final call to Lizzie."
Madeline tried to distract herself as Sam spoke with his daughter, feeling her heart break when he reassured her that he was fine. She watched the dark clouds begin to break in the distance and a wonderful stream of bright light shone through.
"I'm ready, Madeline," Sam's voice came from behind her. "It's time."
"Are you sure you want to do this? You don't want to be surrounded by your family, by Lizzie as she holds your hand?" Madeline asked, almost pleading with him to reconsider. A soft smile met her tearful gaze, and Sam simply allowed the golden sunlight to wash over his face.
"The most cruellest gift that a parent can give is their child witnessing their death," Sam told her. "How are you going to do it? A pillow over the face?"
"The Raymond special?" Madeline let out a scoff and shook her head. "I have this."
She pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid. She held it up for him to see. She continued. "It won't be traceable in your bloodstream. It'll be as if you just fell asleep. It'll slow your heart rate at first, make you feel a little sleepy, warm… and you will slowly drift off, as if sleep beckons you. But your heart will stop and you will die peacefully, as if it was due to natural causes. As if it was just your time."
Tears burned her eyes, and Sam noticed except he didn't say anything except nod along as she explained everything.
"Will you hold my hand?"
Madeline wiped her tears away. "Of course."
"It's time, my friend."
Madeline injected the clear tube that he was hooked up to, slowly distributing the liquid into his system. Once she was done, she sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. She gently stroked the sallowed skin with her thumb, as the poison quickly set in.
"I've had a good life," he whispered sleepily. "Raymond gave me the greatest gift of all, to be a father to his daughter, Lizzie. Tell him… tell him, I said thank you, friend."
Madeline nodded, sadly. "I will, I promise."
It took four minutes for the poison to claim him. He laid peacefully in bed, the golden hour allowing his room to be engulfed in a beautiful hue before the winter darkness reigned until morning. She gave his hand one last squeeze with her gloved hand before she stood from the bed and walked out of the hospital and into the crowd.
..
Red watched the clock closely. The private jet had been scheduled to return just before 3am, and he couldn't sleep. He hadn't had any contact with Madeline since she left the hotel, and he hadn't seen any noticeable difference in Elizabeth's demeanour that would determine whether she had heard the news or not. The only tidbit of information he received to notify him of the death of his friend was a small nod from Dembe, and when questioned about it, Dembe told him that Madeline had sent him a text of a time.
1633.
His friend died at 4:33pm.
He knew the reasons why Madeline hadn't reached out to him personally. She was forever protecting him, taking in how severe the entire situation he'd put himself in was.
He sat in the darkness, which was something he found himself doing a lot recently. It calmed him, soothed a part of him he didn't realise needed to be soothed. Usually it was a glass of whiskey, but not tonight. He knew that if Madeline came to him afterwards that she needed him to be present, to offer her the comfort and reassurance. It was his turn to protect her.
He wanted her to show up at his door. He wanted to be the person she turned to when life became too loud for her.
So, when a knock at the door captured his attention at 3:29am, his heart leapt.
And she was standing there, but she was the ghost of the woman he loved. Her eyes were tearful, her shoulders sagged, her whole body threatening to crumble to the ground, and he caught her just before she collapsed from the whirlwind of guilt, of sadness, and of self-hatred.
And he had been the reason why.
