staring down the sun

[11] navigate the darkness

In Nomine Patris, et Fili, Spiritus Sancti.

Elena leaves the boys to their post-assassination ritual of placing pennies on the eyes of the dead. The air is quiet, aside from their soft prayers spoken in Latin. She feels like an intruder, an imposter pretending she's a Saint.

She never wanted this. She hates to admit that, but it's true. She only agreed to this because Smecker insisted. And now she's sticking around because she stupidly cares about the MacManus brothers.

Fuck.

She wipes her arm across her forehead, using her jacket to soak up the sweat along her brow. If she's going to be here, she might as well do what she's trained to do and find pertinent intelligence.

Amidst the mess of blood and cocaine residue on the table, Elena finds some papers that outline deals, money, and outside parties involved. The lists feature gang organizations primarily localized to New York, names that she recognizes from her undercover work. But other major East Coast cities, including their beloved Boston, appear on the list. Elena spots a briefcase on the floor and carefully opens it, stacks of cash lining the inside. She sets the papers on top of the money and quickly looks around for anything else they might need in their investigation.

Connor and Murphy approach her, looking like they're waiting for verbal instructions. As she narrows her eyes, Murphy turns away, grabbing an envelope from one of the dead bodies. He tosses it into the briefcase with a soft thud. His smile is sly as he assures, "More cash."

Elena shakes her head. "Only if you promise to put it to good use."

The twins look at each other, raising their eyebrows and nodding in unison. Forget all the languages she's fluent in...if only she could speak MacManus right about now.

. . .

Her cheekbone radiates with warmth as the bruise begins to discolor her skin. She stares into the mirror, lightly touching her face when the mirror shatters, revealing a long, dark hallway before her. She walks slowly until she approaches a table with two chairs on either side illuminated by a single pendant light hanging above.

She sits down at the table. She's been here before. Her heart catches in her chest as she expects Connor to sit down across from her. But the shadowy figure reveals himself to be Nikolai instead.

The way he smiles at her is sickening. "I know who you are, sparrow," he says in Russian, his voice low and treacherous. The fear sinks into her stomach. He can't know...how could he? "And you're going to tell me everything you know."

She looks at him, her face falling slightly with defeat. Nothing she says can ever come close to intimidating him. The sound of those girls crying mixed with his sinister laugh echo through the air. He laughs more, knowing he's going to get away with everything.

Elena still doesn't say anything. Her eyes narrow on him, and she lifts her gun, shooting him in the chest. Three bullets rip into Nikolai, and as he bleeds, he smiles at her again. "I know who you are," he whispers. His body slumps more, and his evil smile falls as life leaves his eyes.

Standing up, she pulls a MacManus rosary out from under her shirt, when an arm suddenly grabs her from behind, covering her mouth before she can scream for help.

. . .

She wakes up with a jolt, sitting at the table in the motel room. She blinks hard, bringing everything back into focus.

Elena had been looking at the evidence over and over and over again for God knows how long before she fell asleep. She'd written down all of the connections, mapped out all the cities mentioned, and tallied up the cash they brought back to the motel, only to still feel like she's missing something. Rubbing her eyes, she leans back with a sigh.