ooooo Chapter 1 ooooo

Reddington was staring blankly into space. He tried to concentrate on the rest of the journey, but deep inside he was totally shattered. Ever since he had been forced to leave his family, so many years ago, he had been in control of everything. He had shouldered the life of a criminal with ease from the very beginning, knowing that he had to work towards the precise goal he had in mind: lives to protect, even if his own life suffered as a consequence. Everything was planned. Everything but this ... He had failed on this one point: Lizzie. The more he thought he was acting in her best interests, the more all that he had set up to protect her had crumbled around him. Getting close to her had been the start of the collapse. Liz's memories coming back, and her being framed by the Cabal, had been the final disintegration of all he had hoped to achieve.

But even though everything was going wrong with Liz, and the Alliance was more dangerous than ever, he had, at least, a plan to get them both safely out of the country.

When Liz put her head on his shoulder, she felt him give an almost imperceptible start. It was the first time she had found his presence reassuring. Her mind was completely disturbed by all that had just happened. The gunshot that killed Connolly had changed her life forever without providing any new answer about her past. She had fired without even thinking about the consequences; to protect Cooper, and, above all, to protect Reddington. But also with a desire for revenge that had left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. Killing Connolly was her last step into a universe of fear and uncertainty the likes of which she had never experienced before.

Knowing that she had killed her father when she was four years old just added to her horror; she was even more worried to know more about what had happened that night. She was now regretting not having followed Tom on his boat. The boat … the hope for a new life. He seemed willing to protect and help her. Even clearing her name was not such a big deal; for the last two years she had spent most of her time surrounded by people living completely under the radar, switching identities at will. Of course, Tom had changed, he was not the man she had loved and she would have to get to know Jacob, someone who was unstable, searching for his past and his true identity ... just like her. Did she really want to know where she came from? She had spent more than twenty-five years without the faintest idea about her true identity and everything had been fine with her world. But now ...

A couple of hours after the van picked them up, it stopped close to a shed in the middle of the countryside.

'We've arrived,' Reddington said. 'No private jet this time, Lizzie. The Alliance has been hunting me down for far too long; I've had to activate an emergency plan. This plane will fly us across the Atlantic and take us to Croatia, where I have a villa. The journey will probably be quite bumpy. We'll be able to rest and work out a plan when we get there.'

'What about Dembe?' she asked.

'Don't worry. He and Mr. Kaplan have some business to deal with here, then they'll join us later,' he reassured her. 'But we need to leave now.'

'What are we going to do there?'

'To tell the truth, I don't have a plan yet. But the game isn't over. I threw some cards onto the table and the Cabal's reaction won't be nice. We must leave.'

'I shouldn't have …'

'But you did. We all have an inner instinct. Yours brought you here … We'll get through this, trust me.'

'Knowing that I killed my father is worse than having shot Connolly.'

'I know ... I wanted to protect you from that ... from ... all this ... Lizzie, we have to go; we'll talk about everything later.'

The flight went well, although Red hadn't been joking about the lack of comfort. The plane was a small transport aircraft and they ended up sitting on temporary seats, well hidden between rows of wooden boxes. Concealed like the fugitives they were.

oooooOOOooooo

They were both exhausted when they finally arrived in Croatia. Liz had pictured a nice villa on a desert island, but instead it was lost somewhere in the wild countryside.

'I do have a villa by the sea, and it's quite nice …' said Reddington. 'But for now, we have to keep a rather low profile.'

The house was cozy and well maintained. It looked as if it was inhabited. Reddington gave her a grand tour of the residence; there was enough room for an army. Four bedrooms, a large living room with a piano, a nice kitchen … and a cat. The cat with the red collar from the weird little apartment in Bethesda.

'What is he doing here?' she asked.

'I take him wherever I can. His presence is relaxing … and he's very independent.'

The cat came to weave in and out between her legs.

'He's stubborn and lonesome, Dembe calls him Raymond …' he sighed.

'And he seems to like to be cuddled,' she added.

The tour continued, revealing a fitness room in the attic, and last but not least, a large terrace. Reddington was describing the surroundings when his vision suddenly became blurred. He leaned against the wall as his head started to spin, feeling as if he was about to faint. Lizzie reacted quickly and caught hold of him just as he looked like he was about to fall; she helped him to the sofa and made him lie down. He was pale and had trouble talking. 'I … haven't eaten for the last twenty-four hours … there must be something in the fridge … '

She rushed to the kitchen; the fridge was full. All seemed well prepared so that they could stay for several days. She brought back a large glass of sweet fruit juice and helped him to get rid of his jacket, waistcoat, tie … his habit of wearing tons of clothes like one would do to go skiing was a pain in the ass and much too warm for a Croatian Summer climate, in Lizzie's opinion. No wonder he was half-fainting.

Once he was lying down, he seemed to recover a little, but he looked more shattered than he had been after he was shot a few weeks earlier. This fainting episode was clearly not just a result of a low blood sugar level.

'Lizzie, I'm sorry …' He stopped, searching for words. 'You, here, sharing my life as a fugitive, it's not what I wanted … not at all.'

'This is not the time, Red.'

But he didn't want to stop. He drew upon his last energy reserves. 'The Cabal … they misled me when I was a counterintelligence rookie. I was famous for my skills in being able to hunt down the "red enemies" from the USSR. I found out how the Cabal were operating and naively tried to threaten them. Their revenge has been dreadful.'

He was out of breath but couldn't seem to help going on. For once, it appeared that he had to talk. He had to talk to her.

'Because of your … past, your … parents, you were also in great danger. Most of the people who were there the night of the fire paid for it with their lives. Your parents weren't able to protect you, so I did. With Sam's help. Now, all the terrible things I wanted to save you from are happening ... You're becoming ... like me ... you threatened the Alliance, they framed you and now you need to run… I failed, Lizzie.'

He paused. Staring blankly at the ceiling. Liz stayed still, she didn't dare say a word.

'I was so bloody pretentious; I believed I could control everything. I spent two decades trying to understand how their criminal network was operating; trying to protect myself, protect you, protect so many other people ... The Alliance had destroyed my life. I lost everything: all those I held most dear, my friends, my family ... The only way I could survive was to become what they wanted me to be: a criminal … who must kill to live, steal to eat. I accumulated millions, not because of pure greed but just to be able to take my place and control this clandestine universe. With that money, I was able to help Sam raise you, and to help Dembe and others. But I also jeopardised your lives more than I ever imagined I would. With you, my biggest mistake was to hire Tom. I hate him ... but not as much as I hate myself for hiring him. I thought I had to influence your life ... protect you ... control everything ...'

His voice was breaking and his words cut off as he started to sob. Liz could see tears in his eyes. He was crying ... angry with himself, clearly tired to the point of exhaustion, feeling useless and dangerous for all people he loved and was close to him.

It was clear that he was at the end of his tether and needed a rest. Every word seemed to cause him considerable pain. She had been waiting so long for the moment when he would confide in her, but, somehow, she realised that this, now, had to stop. He was exhausted.

'I understand,' she said.

'We need …'

'I understand! Red, please, let's stop here for now. I'm dead tired and … you seem exhausted as well.'

'You're right…'

'Is there a bedroom I can use?'

'Take your pick, Lizzie, we're here for some time.'

'And please, have a rest.'

'I'll try …'

Liz glanced at him, full of compassion. His eyes were full of sadness. She headed to the bedrooms, still heavily shocked by all that he had just said.

The first bedroom was nicely decorated. Some clothes were lying on the bed, all her size, as if she was expected. It was both disturbing and comforting. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.

Though she was exhausted, she just couldn't seem to fall asleep; the stockpile of emotions from the past few days were spinning round in her head. After a while, she decided to get up and look around the rest of the apartment. The next room was very sober, although she found the cat curled up comfortably on the bed. The third room had walls covered with shelves on which there were hundreds of books. This room reminded her a lot of the apartment in Bethesda; there was a collection of art books from all over the world and a lot of publications in Russian ... she was overtaken by a strange feeling that if she gave it enough thought she would be able to decipher the titles.

She took a book down from the shelf out of curiosity.

'Lizzie, no! Don't go in there!'

Reddington's voice resounded through the flat.

Startled, Lizzie made her way back to the living room to see what was wrong. But he wasn't talking to her. Or, at least, not the real her that was present in the flat. He was asleep on the sofa, haunted by a bad dream.

She moved to his side and instinctively placed her hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. It appeared to work as he leaned against her hand and seemed soothed. She remained beside him for a long time, watching him sleep. She had never known a man so emotionally damaged, and she was feeling more and more guilty that she had rejected him when she had believed that he was using her for his own selfish ends.

Why hadn't he told her earlier? The sin-eater ... his words started to make sense. It was neither a biblical reference nor a mystical power Reddington was boasting about. It was one more of his the Cabal had done to him must have been out of imagination. They had wrecked his life. He had become that hideous Mexican fish, living in a dark cave ... they had shattered him to the point that he had had nothing left to lose. He had become a fierce beast ready to kill to defend those he deeply loved or had sworn to protect. He was doing the dirty work, darkening his own soul to keep others pure. He had become a monster… at least in appearance.

Lost in her thoughts, Liz finally fell asleep, sitting beside the sofa. Her hand gradually slipped from his shoulder but he seemed to sense her continued comforting presence for he cried out in his sleep no more that night.