6: The Hunted

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"Emma you have to get out of here. Like now, like three days ago, run!" Vicky practically yells into the phone.

"Vick, chill. What's wrong?" Emma asks her roommate, throwing back the rest of her shitty cafeteria coffee.

"The FBI is here. They came busting into our dorm. What the hell did you do?"

Emma's blood turns to ice.

"How am I supposed to avoid the FBI?" She asks her, "I'm going to get myself shot, Vick."

"Dont get caught. Dont get shot. Get the hell out of here." Her roommate's voice says, but Emma stops paying attention, kids are yelling, getting antsy, and that can only mean one thing.

"They're here. What am I supposed to do?"

"I dont know, genius, but get out of there."

With that Emma hangs up, shoving her phone back into her bag and pulling on a hoodie.

She joins the throng of students that are fleeing the mess hall, and ducks into the library, hiding behind one of the stacks as she tries to get her bearings.

"Alright. I can do this. I know this place. They don't." She tells herself, taking off her backpack and rifling through its contents.

"Nothing illegal, that's good." She nods, throwing it back on her shoulders.

She peers around the stacks to see the rush of activity on the lawn, and she ditches her phone in the library, standing in the doorway until a throng of

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Emma looks over at the agents who have sat next to her at the bar.

"There you are dear, anything else?" The barista asks, setting her plate of breakfast down in front of her.

"No thank you." Emma smiles. The barista smiles kindly and gently pats her hand before stepping over to the duo.

"And what can I do for you two? A coffee? We've got a mean southwestern omelet and full english. Whatever you like."

"Coffee. Black." The man says.

Emma just chooses to scarf down her omelette.

"This is ridiculous. Reddington has us playing fetch. Why are we doing his dirty work? Its his kid he wants anyway." The man growls.

Emma takes a sip of her coffee.

"You're just mad we haven't found her  yet." The girl answers.

"Reddington is going down." The man says strongly. Slamming his hands on the counter.

The barista and Emma share a look.

"Here's your coffee. Did you need anything dear?" She asks the woman.

"Oh, I'll take a water, please." She nods.

"Keen, this is ridiculous. How are we supposed to know that Reddington isn't playing one of his games? What if he's been training her this whole time and now he's messing with us."

Emma pulls out some cash from her back pocket and sets it on the counter next to her plate.

She finishes the last of her coffee, and as she goes to exit she trips and elbows the agent at the counter.

"Watch it!" He barks.

Emma straightens herself and smiles.

"Sorry. My bad." She apologises.

The woman glances at her, and Emma turns to leave. As she gets to the door the woman speaks.

"Emma?"

She turns around and grins.

"You're looking at her."
 
The man draws his gun and points it at her.

"Ressler!" The woman shouts.

Emma just shakes her head and balls her fist.

She punches up at his wrist, grabbing the gun and sliding her middle finger through the trigger guard, spinning it around and then gripping it, aimed at him.

She holds it there long enough for his eyes to widen before dropping it and punching him in the face.

His head flies backwards and he stumbles, clutching his already bleeding nose.

"Alright, I'm done." She says, shrugging. She looks to the woman and holds out her hands.

"Are you handcuffing me or are we just like, waltzing into whatever it is we're going into?" She asks.

The woman just stares between the girl, the gun, and the blonde fuming beside her.

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"Why did you let us take you?" The woman asks the girl she's walking with. "Why after 3 days of successfully avoiding us?"

"I really wanted to punch him in the face." Emma answers dryly, "it was a necessary evil."

The agent doesnt speak for the rest of their walk.

"Emma Segreto?" A man asks her.

"Yeah. That's me, look I-"

"Emma!" Dembe grins, laughing.

"Kaka." She answers, visibly relaxing as she embraces him.

The two cling to eachother for a moment before separating.

"You have grown! Oh it is good to see you."

"I missed you too." She answers, grinning.

"Whatever it is you think I did, I didnt do it." Emma answers, turning back to the agents. "Other than punch that jackass in the face."

She points to Ressler, who growls.

"No, actually, thats-"

"Emma! There you are!" Raymond Reddington says grandly.

Emma freezes and immediately takes a step behind Dembe. The man raises his eyebrow and looks to Reddington.

"What do you want?" Emma asks. "You have the FBI running around to help you now? What? Is it your fault that plane fell out of the sky? Do you and Ludd have a history?"

"Emma." Dembe says lowly.

"No, Emma. I did not blow up a cargo plane." Raymond answers, shaking his head. "I rode with these guys, to come find you."

"Norman told you, didn't he?" She asks.

"It took great persuasion on my part, I must admit." Reddington nods.

"I'm not going to help you." Emma says darkly.

"Now there's-"

"Its not happening. Not again." Emma shakes her head.

"Again?" The others ask in unison, all except for Dembe, who knew her deepest and darkest secrets.

"What'll it take?" Raymond asks her, his voice dry.

Emma pauses.

"If I help, that's it. You'll leave me alone, I get to go back to school."

"You've already completed your bachelor's degree, Emma. What more do you-"

"You'll leave me alone." Emma says scathingly. "That's my condition."

"Done. Get in the car." He nods.

Dembe grabs a hold of Emma's wrist.

"You punched him?" He asks, nodding to the pissed off strawberry blonde.

"Yes." She answers.

"Why?"

"He told lies." Emma answers.

Dembe looks at her for a moment, then nods.

"Congratulations. Maybe he will think twice from now on." He grins.

Emma laughs, and drops into the passenger seat next to Dembe.
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