Chapter Text
“She’s the one thing we have left. She’s the key to everything .” Shadowy conversations in back rooms were never meant to be heard. Never meant to turn into anything more than whispers among villains and demons. The dark rapture that crawls around the edges of your bed at night daring to pull you down, down, down .
“She’s awake,” another hushed voice growled.
“And you’re sure he’s coming?” Female.
“You’re the one who’s been eating out of his hand, you tell us.” The first voice chimed back in again.
Liz groaned to life, head throbbing and heart pumping ever so slow.
“I don’t have time for this, she’s the last one we should be dealing with.” A fourth voice was far too close to her ear and louder than ever.
“Then clearly you haven’t been keeping up with this little soap opera because she’s exactly the one we should be dealing with.” Female again.
“Sorry I cancelled my cable subscription,” the sarcasm nearly dripped onto her shoulder. The man behind her was unamused.
She still couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t place her surroundings, couldn’t remember what happened.
“Did you leave enough bread crumbs? He isn’t exactly the man we once knew him to be. Age has gotten the better of him.” The first voice.
“Maybe not age,” the voice behind glided around her. A hand pressed against her upper thigh, sliding her legs open. A chuckle.
“Enough.” The woman.
The hand retracted leaving Liz shaking and cold. She’d lost a lot of blood, so much blood, her skin had to be blue. Chills ran up and down her spine, her brain not even aware enough to process fear. The words were forgotten as soon as she heard them. Nothing was being retained and certainly nothing would be retrieved.
“Elizabeth Keen.” The words were the first thing she’d put thought to. Her name, that was her name.
“Raymond,” she half choked and groaned. She could taste the blood as it spilled down her lips.
“Two birds, one stone.” The voice had returned behind her, chuckling.
Red sat on a new plush carpet as Agnes ran about the room, taking in all the new sights of her surroundings. Colorful wooden blocks and stuffed animal littered the floor in front of him. Agnes would tear through the space, grab one or two objects and then blast off once more. He hoped she would tire of this game soon, needing her to go down for a nap shortly. A knocking alerted him to the fact that his guests had just arrived.
Gracefully as he could, he lifted himself from the floor, unfurling his sleeves from their perch about his elbow. He sauntered towards the door, peering through the peep hole. Dom and Dembe stood there, calm and quiet as ever.
“Care to tell me why my granddaughter is in danger again because of you?” Dom shot him the foulest glance he had ever seen from the man as he walked into the spacious living room.
“I don’t have enough evidence to support any of my suspicions.” He rolled his eyes as he closed the door.
Serena was at the top of his very short list. Aram and Michael were working non-stop to locate Liz. Aram remembered what they all went through the last time Liz was taken from them. This time she was alive, or at least, presumed to be. Glen hadn’t been much help either. After waking from the ambush, Harold had put the Task Force into motion and Red had decided to resort to his usual resources. Which sadly were dwindling.
The number of people he could trust was falling by the minute. His people were supposed to have prevented whatever it was that happened when they landed. But they failed. And Red had yet to decide if that failure was actually that or someone marching to the beat of another drum major.
He watched as Dom strode over the the new couch, carefully arranging himself before Agnes realized who had joined them. No sooner had he settled than the little devil came running at him full tilt, shrieking with joy.
“Praaaaa*!!!” She threw herself at his legs, clinging to them in a ferociously loving embrace.
“You do what you need to do Raymond.” He nodded his head in silent approval but Red could see the anger burning just beneath the surface. Squatting down, he kissed his daughter on the head and departed the house to meet a waiting Dembe.
“Any news?” He threw his coat on and fixed his hat as they quickly strode to the idling car.
“Nothing we want to hear. But at least a small lead.” Not very comforting words but it was the most hope he had heard in nearly two weeks.
“She’s more in the dark than I thought, this is a waste of time.” The second voice, by far the most skeptical, began to speak again. She could now place the voice with a face, a frail man in his late seventies, snow white bushy brows and a pristinely bald head. Age spots covered his skin and scalp, but his suit screamed wealth and power.
Her eyes blinked open with great effort. The surroundings were plush, it seems she’d finally arrived at her final destination. Her memory was still foggy but she remembered the pain of traveling, every new transfer and connection to get here was gut wrenching. She nearly passed out every time.
“If not her than whom?” The woman sat in the back but her voice was commanding. “She’s the only one in his life, the only thing that matters. I don’t just run number Jerrico, I see lives in those lines and this is his. This everything.”
“Key to everything, I told you. Don’t steal my thunder.” The first voice came from the side. A younger man, devilishly handsome… Had she seen him before? His smile was that of a wolf, toothy and wide. His dark hair and dark eyes pulled at something she couldn’t quite place.
“What are you to him? His girlfriend? Weird daughter thing? Baby momma? I’m not one to judge, the French have a very explicit sexual culture, but wow. What a ride.” The man behind her. She began to recognize the French accent. Maybe Belgian.
Words were starting to put together in coherent thoughts and ideas. She was placing faces. Things were coming back rapidly, a loud beeping coincided with her now quickening heartbeat.
“Come now Michel, you’ve had your fun.” The first voice, the wolf to the side. British.
“Nurse,” the older gentleman called. Within seconds a woman in white knelt at her side, face mask covering any defining features. Her eyes bore into Liz, cold and calculating. She wasn’t an asset to be turned.
“Where am I?” Liz choked. The hand of the nurse clenched tightly around her wrist, a warning?
“Now there’s a sensible question.” Michel spoke, inching around so she could finally see his face.
Wrath and fury burned in his wake as he entered the War Room. To say the lead they had was minute was a serious understatement. Whomever it was that tore Elizabeth from the safety of his grasp must know the dangerous game they were playing. It was the only reason he could think for them frequently moving here about.
“Please tell me you’ve found something more Agent Mojtabai.” He clamped on to a chair to keep from pacing about the space. He was tired and frustrated.
“I can tell you they are in the South of France. Would love to tell you their origin or even their potential destination but nothing.” Aram’s fingers were flying over the keyboard as maps and all sorts of data flashed across the screen. They were spiraling around, probably an attempt to confuse anyone who might be watching. He was becoming more certain by the minute that Serena was behind all this.
Red drummed his fingers against the back of a chair. He knew Aram was trying his best, that there was only so much they could do against this particular foe. He couldn’t help but feel that the information they were being fed was a lie. Or after the incident at the air strip, a serious trap.
But it was Elizabeth. He had to go after her. Had to do everything in his power to get her back safely.
“Harold!” He barked to the man he knew was lurking in the catwalks just above. He was going after her, with or without Harold’s permission. As a friend and as a man aware of the special relation Harold and Liz shared, it wouldn’t be right to at least tell him what he was planning.
And perhaps get some support from some of the few people he still trusted.
“Vous êtes parti des États -Unis et maintenant, vous êtes arrivé en France. Bienvenue.” Michel’s French accent reigned heavily.
“Stop with that French bullshit, you have about all the French culture of Canada.” The wolf chastised.
“Will you two cut it out?” The woman stood, hands on her hips.
“Serena is right.” The old man turned around, preparing something on an antique wooden table.
“Putain…” Michel whispered.
“I don’t speak French,” Liz coughed.
“Neither does he,” the Wolf came closer, winking. “Welcome to France little one.”
//
This wasn’t exactly the way Liz pictured seeing France for the first time. She laid quietly on a metal table, head elevated slightly, dressed skimpily. The flooding white lights blinded her weak vision and the humming of the machines drowned out what was left of her hearing. She lied there blind, deaf, alone, and in pain waiting for the next move.
“So Elizabeth, tell me about your life. Your family. Your job.” A man in a white lab coat took the small rolling stool placed beside her table. “Do you sustain injuries easily? Are you prone to any kind of disease or disorder that I should know about?”
“You already seem to know everything. Or else I wouldn’t be here. I’m not saying anything.” It was the most threatening voice she could muster.
“He may be asking these questions for medical purposes but my former question still stands unanswered.” Michel again.
“Which was?” Liz spat. She wouldn’t giving him the satisfaction of memory even if she had the choice.
“My money's on baby momma though I must admit, I didn’t truly believe it until we received the test results.” Michel’s eyes were a dull blue and the only thing Liz could see in such harsh lighting.
“How did you...” Liz began choking again. She was still incredibly cold to the point of shivering. The table seemed to vibrate at the very thought. Blood so much blood.
How did he know about Agnes? They’d been very careful to keep any records of Agnes out of the public or cyber eye. She’d hadn’t attended any schools yet or had any formal record other than those Red kept hidden. They’d given her the birth name Scott to keep her associated with Reddington, Rostov, or Keen… They had been very very careful.
“So it is his?” Michel howled with laughter. “Let’s go Richie, pay up.”
The doctor reached up and shut off the flood light, lifting the table to a seated position. Liz could see the wolf standing in the corner, unhappy as ever.
“I told you not to call me that,” the Wolf glared.
“Well unfortunately sweetheart, you are his baby momma no more. Honestly though, the thought just gives me the creeps.” The Frenchman turned back around.
“What is he talking about?” Liz looked doe eyed to the doctor who still had a comforting hand on her shoulder. Having mentioned Agnes brought her senses to attention. She needed more information and she needed an escape plan.
“I’m sorry to inform you, but you’ve had a miscarriage.” The doctor’s eyes were sullen, this was not the job he signed up for. “It was most likely due to the trauma you sustained on the pick-up …” He chose his words carefully. “Unfortunately your recovery has been rather slow.”
“Miscarriage?” Liz’s voice drifted into the sleepiness of a dream.
“You weren’t too far along. But that also means the man of the hour isn’t far behind either.” The wolf, Richie, lifted an eyebrow.
“Wait a second,” Michel came closer. “What did you think we were talking about?” His face came ever so near. His hand wrapped threateningly around her wrist.
"You really think Serena is behind Liz's abduction?" Harold looked at him with a concerned expression. Behind his dark eyes was a man lost in deep contemplation.
"It's the only thing that makes any sense Harold. Why else would Elizabeth have been taken after our mid-flight incident with Serena's hunting dog?" Had it been some kind of backup plan? In retrospect, Zahn must have signaled a distress code to Serena. Must have let her know that yes, he was on board with her precious cargo but things had not gone according to plan.
"To what end? Why her? You and I were both on board, you think either of us would have been a more likely target." Harold was right, and it deeply concerned Red that it had been Liz taken and not he. The knot in his stomach churned and his heart sank.
"Because of me." It pained him to utter the words, faint as they might have been. Liz was being used as bait and he was the fish they were trying to land. "I shouldn't have brought you Harold. I hope I did not make a grave error."
"Even if you had not invited me, I would have followed you Reddington. Someone has to watch over the two of you." A smirk crept across Red's face at Harold's words. Ever watchful and protective where Liz was concerned. Almost as much, perhaps even more so than even Red was.
"It had to be you. Of all the people in the world it had to be you my friend. I know what I see in her, the kind of relation her and I have. But who is she to you?" It had been fascinating to watch thing blossom between Harold and Liz over the years. He had taken a special liking to Liz.
"Ever since day one and you demanded to speak to her and only her, I only had her best interests in mind. Charlene and I never had children of our own. I guess somewhere along the line, I started thinking of her as my own." A warm smile graced his face. Red knew that smile. Knew that it meant he was thinking of Liz.
"I suppose there are far worse people in the world who have desired to claim her as their own." Red's tone fell flat. There were very few in the world who had ever claimed Liz as their daughter. The only one he ever wanted to offer that title was Sam, but now, he would gladly extend it to Harold. The man was truly worthy.
"So what are your plans with Elizabeth?" Ahhhh he was already starting to dig in. They were a mere hour into their flight to Paris. It was bound to be a long journey if their conversation was to continue in this manner.
"You might not see me as the white picket fence kind of gentleman, but I assure you, I want nothing more than to give that to her. A wolf might not fit so easily in sheep's clothing but he might try. Wolves always do better in packs anyways. Incredible caring and tender to their young, vicious and relentless when threatened." Red was set to bare his teeth to their foes. Do everything in his power to get Liz safely back home. With Aram and Samar, Donald, Harold...and most importantly, with him and Agnes.
“She hasn’t spoken?” The second voice chimed. The deep tones belonged to Marcus, she’d finally caught the older gentleman’s name.
“And we can’t make her talk, not in this state. Doc says it’s too risky.” Richard, what he prefered to be called, clarified.
“When have we ever colored inside the lines?” Michel leaned back behind the two men, toying with a pen in his hand.
“You two have no idea what we do. Shut up, sit down, and observe. Maybe then you’ll finally be given the opportunity of those board meetings you so covet.” One look from Marcus, and the Wolf and Frenchman sat down in adjoining seats.
“My dear, I think it’s about time you left.” The old man’s tone changed as he addressed Serena. It was a foul sweetness that was far too pleasant. Something was off.
Serena, the blacklister they’d chasing for months on end, was finally right in front of Liz’s face. She was slender and meek, but carried a new air of confidence that her brother had failed to describe. She’d made a deal with the devil or rather, a super conglomerate of demons. Red was walking into a trap. From everything she’d been asked and everything she’d heard, he was the prize. They must be dangling her around like a toy he wanted back. He was always willing to make the sacrifice play, but after so many tries surely one of these times he wouldn’t be able to worm his way out of this one.
There was an empty ache in her stomach as her hands reached to inspect. The word was nothing she was willing to process right now, let alone repeat. Her focus was one Red, on her daughter, on getting out of here. She needed to keep her head about her.
Serena exited the room with a small smile to Marcus. She turned to address Liz once before she left, as if seeing her for the first time. No longer behind a monitor or lines of code, but seeing the real person, something she didn’t do often.
“Your brother, he misses you.” Liz need to try anything. Whatever humanity Serena had left was tied to her family and most certainly Red’s only card to play was her brother. Without addressing the statement, Serena exited the grand room. Marcus pulled up a chair across from Liz.
“You’ve met some of my colleagues and they’ve come back with mixed reviews. The daughter of a Russian spy, the love child of the Cold War, profiler gone rogue, really the titles are endless. What I can say is you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in quite a bit of trouble young lady.” Marcus readjusted and waved over the Wolf.
“He’s lead you into danger, but he was always good at that. Even when he was among us, we never really knew what he was going to do. Always secretive with his partners and it appears he’s done the same with you. What do you really know about Raymond Reddington?”
The question hung in the air like a dead weight. Memories of their first encounter in the box came rushing back. The pen in the neck. Their first dinner. Nights of dancing. The storage container. Guns and blood, wounds and pleas to live. Lips that screamed life and hands that worshiped. She knew Raymond Reddington better than anyone and yet still these monsters were taunting her into dangerous secrets she didn’t want to believe.
“He’s been trying to take you and your Cabal down for years. A decade. You don’t know him at all, he’s your enemy.” Liz bit her tongue and tried her best to keep calm. She was surrounded and disoriented, now was not the time to get herself drug back into the metal chair.
“Oh wow, he really hasn’t told you anything has he?” Michel gasped a little from behind and let out an amused laugh, twirling the pen faster and faster.
“How do you think he knows about us? Knows everyone on the inside?” The Wolf smiled, acknowledging her ignorance.
“I trained the man, made him what he is today. I gave him his name and plucked him from the mediocrity the Navy would have provided him. He chose power sweetheart, like he always has. I know his weaknesses and now I know it’s you.”
“Do you really want to get involved in this manner?” He stepped out of the jet, phone pressed tightly to his ear. He was all ears for any alternatives to the one he had planned, but he didn’t like the part where someone else was trying to put themselves at risk to save Liz.
“Red, we need to try. What other options do we have?” Michael’s voice was laced with conflicting feelings. Anger. Desperation. And what sounded almost like a fool’s hope.
“Only one.” It was a place he knew all too well. He would sacrifice himself for Liz every time. But the team had done their best to talk him out of it, wanting desperately for him to take a step back. They wanted to see that he was able to be around for Liz and Agnes. All their conversations lead to the one he was now carrying with Michael. “I can’t let you do this.”
“You don’t have a say. That’s why I waited for you to leave. Made my own arrangements.” Red could hear the smugness in that matter of fact tone.
“You’re treading in dangerous waters going over me like that Michael.” The boy was lucky Red was unable to jump through the phone and beat him to a bloody pulp.
“Are you going to torture me again? I’m not afraid Red. Probably a dead man walking with this plan anyways.” Red rolled his eyes as the boys final thoughts crackled before he hung up.
“Looks like we aren’t the only ones walking into the lion’s den. I only hope she’s had her feast before we get there.”
Richard was the only one left now, on guard in case Liz mumbled anything incoherently that could be useful. Pumped full of drugs to either help her medical condition or to make her talk, she wasn’t sure, but what she did know was she could listen. Understand .
Everything Marcus said had a tone of truth to it. She worried and confused as to what to believe. He cited specific dates and people, places she knew Red had been and conversations she knew Red had had. It might have been a younger Raymond, but it was him nonetheless. Had this been why he was so dedicated to this fight? To taking them down?
“You really didn’t know?” She wasn’t sure the Wolf had spoke. His eyes were still cast to the floor, hands crossed, lips pressed tightly together. All Liz could do was shake her head.
“And you still won’t give him up?” The man asked again.
Liz paused. She didn’t really need to consider it, it was second nature, of course she wouldn’t. She was in this for the long haul, thick or thin. She knew the man he was now, the man he was with her, with their daughter, and that was all she needed. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a shitstorm of questions waiting for him later.
If there was a later.
“Never,” she whispered.
“He doesn’t deserve such loyalty.” The Wolf spat.
“How would you know what he deserved? Or what he’s become? Or who he is? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.” Liz knew Red wouldn’t give up without a fight. They were underestimating him, that gave him the advantage.
This must have been a branch of the Cabal Red hadn’t dealt with yet. One that didn’t know what he was capable of now with the help of the FBI and his strengthened empire. As much as she hated to admit it, Raymond Reddington was a name to be feared in all circles, and now she was glad for it. Now she just needed to get out and meet him. Warn him. Help him.
“You wouldn’t know anything about Michael having flown out before us would you Harold?” He looked at the man with intense amounts of frustration. He knew the Task Force had all talked about alternative options to rescue Red, but he had shot them all down.
“Not a clue. I thought we had left things at you and I going on this alone.” He face was one of honesty. Confusion and concern resting upon his furrowed brow.
“Apparently not. Seems Michael had another plan. He’s been in Paris tracing his sister for at least an hour.” The boy was stubborn as ever. Maybe Red should have pressed him harder when they first met. Give him a little something more to fear.
“Not on my command. Thought he was yours anyways. We just let him stay because Aram keeps a close eye on him. And they seem to have become good friends, which is good for the both of them.
"I just hope it doesn’t get him killed. I have a bad feeling about this. I’ll phone Aram, see if we can’t follow our own lead to Liz.” He turned the phone about his palm, a nervous action that calmed his voice before dialing.
They had been having a hard time narrowing down where Liz and her captors were currently staying. But they had been moving steadily North. They must have flown into Madrid before crossing into France and spending some time in the vast openness. He just prayed they found her sooner rather than later.
“Where did they go?” Liz was calm.
She wasn’t chained or tied down, rather she was given space and room to recover. This was the oddest form of capture and torture she could recall. They knew now that she had no useful information. She was a bird in a cage waiting for Red to fall into a trap.
“A small place in the sixteenth,” the Wolf said.
“Excuse me?” Liz stood to look out the window.
“Le seizieme arrondissement,” he clarified as if making it any easier. “Paris, you’ve never been?” He was more curious, his tone playful. “Such a beautiful woman and you’ve never been to Paris?”
“I’m married to my job and the bad guys usually come to me, not much travel.” She lifted an eyebrow remembering Red’s surrender so long ago. Her name rolling of his tongue, his only plea.
Just when he was close enough Liz bucked her head back and landed a punch to his windpipe. She’d been right, the boy didn’t know how to fight. Some son of a rich diplomat, no doubt, squaring his shoulders for power. He was in line for the Cabal, not one of the hitmen or ex military.
The boy lay choking on the floor, grasping at his throat, as if he had never felt pain before. He couldn’t get a word out before Liz laid a final punch, knocking him out cold. She grabbed his phone, keys, and gun and out the window she went.
“I need an update Aram.” He barked into the phone with more force than he intended. They needed to find Liz now. Harold had forged ahead to secure them a transport vehicle as Red determinedly strode through the airport.
He watched as others passed by him with their suitcases and their families. Briefcases and busy conducting business calls while the waited. These people were going about their mundane lives, busy worrying about when the next bus might come so they can make it in time for that meeting or whatever meal they might be heading to.
“Um, well. They appear to be moving toward the Western side of Paris. When they stop moving hopefully I can give you a better location.” Aram sped through the words, as flustered as Red was.
“How about a current approximation?” He breathed, trying to soften his tone. Him getting riled up would do them no favors.
“Looks like their in the eighth right now. Depending on traffic, about thirty minutes away.” Red could hear the tapping of keys in the background. Aram was doing whatever he could to keep tracking her and make sure he went undetected.
“Keep me posted. I need to know as soon as they stop.” Slapping the phone closed, he saw Harold casually standing on the sidewalk. Red stood beside him, waiting for the man to make the first comment.
“Waiting for our ride. Supposed to be here in just a minute.” Harold flashed his phone at Red, showing their driver’s ETA.
“Can we trust them?” That was his only concern. He remembered Dembe going undercover in one of those roles before. Granted the situation had been very different, but knowing Serena and those like her, it would be easy enough to set them up.
“Reviews are very positive.” Harold flicked through whatever program was on his phone. “Definitely our best bet for getting around in Paris.”
Red just shook his head in response. He had a fully loaded gun on hand should Harold’s trust turn out to be misplaced.
Once Liz poured through the coded text messages and did a thorough search of her surroundings with the map feature on her phone, she raced towards the nearest metro entrance. Hurdling down the stairs she pushed her way around some rather slow and preoccupied people. She took one look at the ticket machine with the French instructions and decided to jump the turnstile, passing silently under the metal bar and slinking through the rigid plastic swinging door.
It smelled like hot piss and drug habits down there. It wasn’t in the nicest metro station in Paris. She just needed to jump on the nine and get down to the sixteenth before it was too late. The metro slowed to a stop and opened it’s door briefly before starting up again. There wasn’t a seat available so she clung to the pole warily, drawing many stares from her battered appearance and torn untrendy clothing.
The nine moved quickly as she jumped out at her stop and hurried up the stairs. Breaking through the too cool Autumn air of Paris she looked around for street names, struggling. The sixteenth was calmer than where she’d been previously, older couples walking quietly down the road. There were a few kids skateboarding down the wide sidewalk of the outer city. She needed to head to the Seine. One more look on her phone and she found her direction. She turned left and headed south. They would need to be secluded and this was the district to do it. Safe. Quiet. Expensive.
Red and Harold quietly sat in the back of the Uber car. He was extremely uneasy about the whole thing. Random people just driving other people around. It sounded like a potential nightmare for any parties involved. When he scooted into the seat at the airport, he was careful to remove his gun from his back holster, keeping it hidden among the folds of his coat.
“What do you have?” He didn’t want to hold his breath, but he hoped for good news.
“I have an address for you, 42 Rue Erlanger. They’ve been there for the past five minutes so I think it’s a safe bet that’s where they set up for now.” Red could hear the cheer in his voice. He was glad they finally had this narrowed down.
“Thank you Aram.” He sighed in relief, glad to finally know where they were going.
“Excusez-moi monsieur, changement d'adresse. 42 Rue Erlanger, s'il vous plaît.” Red uttered in his best French, giving the driver their new destination. He could see the smiling eyes of their driver, a small commentary on his accent, but the man understood.
He watched the scenery as it rushed past them. Paris was beautiful: he had always wanted to take Liz here but this was not the context he wanted for that trip. Closing his eyes, he settled into deep thought the remainder of the trip. When this was all over, they would be taking some time, just the two of them to enjoy the beautiful city.
Liz arrived at the address found in the text messages. The tall brown stone was aligned with the rest of it’s surrounding buildings. Beautiful detail and rod iron balconies, old and well maintained. It wouldn’t stand out as inherently evil but she could only imagine what laid in wait for her inside.
She wanted to call Red, she knew his number by heart, just to make sure he was safe. She wanted to enter this trap alone, knowing they wouldn’t kill her. She was an asset after all. But she knew the consequences. Recklessly entering his number into a Cabal phone, who knows the information they could get with someone like Serena on their payroll. She wouldn’t risk it with a lecture to follow. Instead she stomped the phone to pieces and kicked it in the gutter before entering the building.
Red and Harold carefully climbed the stairs of the building. If Serena was here, he didn’t trust the elevator. She could manipulate that and giving her any kinds of edge over him was the last thing he wanted. He tried to maintain a cool air, paying attention to all his surroundings. Noting where the lights were. Where security cameras were. He stared down a camera on the last landing, knowing she was watching. Harold drew his gun, Red following suit. They looked to each other before silently nodding to enter the space. Red shoved the door open gun out front, ready to fire.
When they entered the space they saw Serena’s computer setup: desktops covered with monitors, servers neatly standing at attention in rows. And at the center of the room, Serena holding a gun right at Red’s chest, while Marcus held a gun to Michael’s head.
Two more men, heavily armored and armed to the teeth poked out from behind support structures. Red’s eyes flicked about the space, making note of all their options if things were to go down.
Liz burst open the doors and pressed the button for the elevator, impatient. She looked at the floor directory. Mundane business names filled all the floors except for the top, the ninth, empty. That must be where the ambush was happening. Watching the blinking light of the slow small French elevator she decided to mount the stairs, taking them two at a time.
By the top she was huffing and puffing. After such injuries and rushing she was out of breath and in pain. She could feel her stitches ripping and her wounds reopening the bleeding probably starting again.
She looked to the security camera pinpointed at the top of the steps, staring at her directly. She mumbled a curse under her breath. She was off her game. She took the gun from her waist band and shot the camera point blank. She was done with this shit.
Red flared his nostrils at the sight of the man before him. Of course Marcus was the one handling the situation. Zahn and Serena were both young, highly skilled individuals. Marcus specialized in finding that raw talent and pulling them into his world of shadows. Tempting them with access to all the power in the world.
“Shame you aren’t dead yet Marcus. I knew I should’ve put a bullet through you in Kiev all those years ago.” He shook his head. “Learned to make sure all loose ends were tied after that ordeal. You’re one of the few I still have out there. About time we remedied that don’t you think?”
The men stared each other down, neither budging an inch. Waiting for the other to make the first move. The sound of the door behind them crashing open broke the tension as shots were fired.