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This is not a good idea.
Alejandro’s learned by now to trust Matt, but this agent? This one’s got stars in her eyes. He knows that not just anyone can kick in doors and face down people holding bigger and better guns, and he can respect that. But Kate clearly has no idea what she’s getting into. She’s not prepared for what’s expected, although she doesn’t get hurt and doesn’t get anyone killed. Matt’s keeping her in the dark, and he is too. He can see it grinding her gears as she stalks around the compound chain smoking other people’s cigarettes.
It’s admirable, really, how law enforcement works in America. Civilian casualties are not an option. Ever. Lives matter! The FBI can’t take care of business properly because it has to respect people’s feelings and fragile perceptions of safety. But Americans wouldn’t sleep at night if they knew what their government really did. Only people with badges have to answer for it, though. And that’s part of the problem. Kate is used to being held accountable for every bullet she fires. He sees her panic during the traffic jam and it’s not fear of dying, it’s the fear of being able to do anything, all of the sudden, for the first time.
It sneaks up on him (because not every woman reminds him of his wife); it’s actually hard to look at Kate. Kate is beautiful; for all that she does absolutely nothing to enhance her appearance, she is incredibly, indescribably lovely. Even with Matt breaking her down, her vitality beckons and awakens parts of Alejandro that long lay dormant. Ever since his wife died, genuine attraction has never had a chance to take hold until now. Aside from pretty skin and a fit body and eyes more compelling than the heart on her sleeve, it’s the way Kate always wants to be doing the right thing—the best thing—the thing she should be doing. She yearns to make a difference but doesn’t know that making a difference is really the last thing she wants. But she wants, and tries, and that’s why she starts to matter.
That kind of effort and passion is what makes Alejandro think of his exquisite wife—and he tries to think of her, as always, the way she was in life. Laughing and smiling and knowing just what to do or say…that was how she was. She looked at him and knew what he was thinking. He liked that, not having to talk sometimes. Prosecuting cases took so much out of him, and eventually, so much from him. He wants to forget the last time he saw her, with her breasts cut off and Alarcon’s initials carved into her forehead, her head not even attached to her body. There was not enough left of his daughter’s body to even look human, and he pretends it’s easier to remember her as she was.
In an effort to placate Kate, Alejandro likens their work to a watch, and when she takes her eye off the time, he’s there to hold a gun to the head of the man whose hands are wrapped around her neck. Alejandro doesn’t know Kate, not at all, but somehow the idea that she could have died like that makes him uncomfortable. Kate was foolish enough to walk into the bank; on principle, he's not against using her as bait. She’s still a means to an end, but he’s starting to view her as an end in herself. She deserves better than to die as the thrashing lure on the hook she was naïve enough to place herself on.
He pauses by the sink and watches her slowly fall apart, and finds he cannot look away and tune her out and pretend she is meaningless to him. Alejandro admits to her that she reminds him of someone special. That isn’t something he’s ever felt or told anyone. It should be significant, except that it isn’t. He isn’t human enough for the confession of her resemblance to really be much more than that—an admission. It's not the breakthrough it would be for a normal person.
Idealistic young feds are a dime a dozen. Alejandro’s not going to call it a train wreck, but he can actually see Kate breaking down, piece by piece, as the mission starts to ramp up. She’s utterly transparent. Every time she disapproves or worries or doubts, it’s all over her face and body language. She should not be ashamed that she feels so freely; the type of work they do (that he does) is about suppression. Her humanity is the only thing that put her on his map, a map that’s detailed a ten-year journey without stops or detours. Now there's suddenly Kate where there wasn't anything before.
But revenge has been his destination for as long as he can remember, so when Kate threatens to arrest him, she stops being the woman that reminds him of his dead wife and turns into a setback. Just because he likes her doesn’t mean her life is more important than Alarcon’s death. Kate is an obstacle to overcome. A feeble, ineffective obstacle, but symbolic; one last tenuous connection to humanity is trying to stop him. When he double-taps her, he loses it, because it is not her fucking place to stand in his way. For half a moment, she jeopardizes his end game, and it’s all he needs to absolve himself. It doesn't matter that this is a betrayal she is ill-equipped to understand. When she sees him again, and he knows that she will, it will be from the point of view of a woman whose most troubling brush with death has come by his hand.
Alejandro does not enjoy this part. Matt dragged Kate across Mexico and Texas and now he needs a piece of paper for his trouble. And foolish, beautiful Kate stood up to him. But it gives Alejandro the chance to see her again. Even if he has to kill her, he reminds himself that she is not his wife, just a woman that he met once. That doesn’t actually make him feel any better about it, but this is the kind of work he does now—the kind of man he’s decided to be. Alarcon is right; his wife would hate what he’s become, but it doesn’t fucking matter because she’s not here.
Kate is so scared. She’s too human to hide it. If Alejandro had a heart, it would weep along with her tears. And he wipes them away, so that he can know what it’s like to touch her face in case he has to kill her. He tells her that she reminds him of his daughter, because in this moment she is weak—and that weak is okay. He’s struck by her youth, by how undeserving of all this she is, and how he wants her to want her own life enough to sign over her morals. Kate can come back from this. Alejandro was decimated when they took his family, but this? This is a minor defeat, at least if she’ll let it be instead of a suicidal last stand.
Fucking sign the paper, Kate.
And she does. A pointless death does not suit her. Matt has what he needs, but Alejandro doesn’t yet. The words he says are hurtful. He doubts he can do any more damage, at any rate. If she gets out of this life, that knowledge would give him more gratification than he is worthy of. She’s good at what she does, but that doesn’t mean she should be doing it. In a perfect world, no one would have to do it. In a perfect world, he could have called her in from the balcony for any other reason than holding a gun to her head. He could finally learn what her laugh sounds like, and kiss the mouth that said impossibly idealistic things, and make her moan and scream and feel things he’d forgotten that he’d liked making beautiful women feel.
(In a perfect world, he wouldn’t need Kate, because he’d still have his family, but this is not a perfect world.)
The old Kate would have shot him as he walked away. The new Kate doesn’t feel like she deserves to anymore. It’s something awful to take away from someone, their sense of self. It’ll make her stronger and less Kate-like but eventually more Kate-like. One day. The woman that emerges from that apartment when she finally stops shaking will know that any loss you can live with is better off living with if dying is the alternative. A moral death is pointless, especially all alone and at the hands of someone unmoved by such a sacrifice.
And Alejandro walks away, leaving behind the only person who’s managed to leave an indelible mark on him after he thought himself possessing a soul too black to carry anything that could qualify as a mark. But he did his part in making marks too. He wonders how long the bullet-wounds he gave her will last. He was standing close and firing a powerful gun; it’s possible her wounds will scar and she’ll wear them forever. Every time Kate finds that she’s regaining a part of her old ways, she’ll look down and remember, and a little bit of her victory will die. And maybe, eventually, hopefully, she’ll learn that there are worse things to live with than shame.
Whatever she comes up with, at least she’ll be alive to live with it. That will be enough.