Disclaimer: Not my characters. Such a pity...
"Are you there Finch?"
Reese turns on the earpiece, brushes off his jacket and glances one last time at the body at his feet. Not dead…not this one at least.
He had checked earlier to make sure there was still a strong pulse and now takes a small packet out of his pocket to shove into the hand of the unconscious man. When the lax fingers won't close around it, he lays the packet under the slack hand. It'll have to do.
"Always…and Mr. Reese, I need…"
"Gotta go Finch. Carter's almost here!"
Reese cuts off the earwig and moves quickly to the backdoor of the house as sirens shattered the early morning peace. Carter must have been in the area…the only way she could have gotten there so soon after he put in the call!
Loping back to his car, he turns on the ear piece again.
"Finch? All wrapped up. Reisling won't be taking on any more collection contracts for a while…hopefully not for a long time. "
"Good to hear, Mr. Reese. And I need you back in the library right away!"
"Something wrong Finch?" Reese feels adrenaline kicking in at the sound of the uncharacteristic panic in his employers voice. He has come to rely on this audio connection with his employer; in fact it's become a lifeline over the months as Finch relays vital information pertaining to their cases, but now his boss's voice, usually calm and confident, has this...vibe. One that Reese finds disturbing.
"No…yes... Just hurry!"
Reese is already sprinting to his car.
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"I'm here Finch!"
The ex-op rushes into the room, skidding to a halt behind the software genius standing just inside the room's entrance. Finch's eyes are focused on the computer station, the older man's entire demeanor one of suppressed anxiety.
"Problem?" Reese asks softly, hand on his gun and searching the gloomy room for danger. Clouds had been threatening to crash the cheery spring scene all morning and soon the library would be darkened enough to require turning on the inside lights. But for now, he sees only the deepening shadows.
And nothing else.
Reese follows his employers line of sight, a quick glance that still doesn't reveal anything unusual. The large desk covered with monitors and electronic gadgets, the rolling chair placed in front of one of the many keyboards...all seems normal. Finch's roost.
"Yes, we have a problem!"
Finch turns his body stiffly toward the ex-op, focusing on his employee with a furrowed brow, always a sign of agitation.
"It's another body, Mr. Reese…!"
There's definitely an element of anguish in his voice. "You need to do something!"
And he takes another step back. One more, thinks Reese, and his boss will be outside of the room entirely. Something has definitely spooked the geek.
Reese moves closer to the computer station, leaving Finch hovering in the doorway. And yes indeed, there it is…partially hidden under the desk, shadowed by the oversized chair. He wonders how long his employer has been standing here, agonizing, as access to his beloved computers is blocked by this corpse.
Harold Finch is the most intriguing, multi-faceted man Reese has ever met. Intelligent, insightful, focused, and with an integrity worth to emulating. But a tolerance for violence and dead bodies is not on Finch's list of strengths...and Reese doesn't like seeing his employer this upset.
He assumes his most soothing tone.
"Relax, Finch. I'll take care of it... You just wait there for a bit. "
Reese peers under the desk for a closer look, then stands abruptly, moving to the coat rack to remove a pair of leather gloves from his overcoat. Pulling on the gloves, he proceeds to the kitchenette at the back of the chamber.
"You know who's responsible!" Finch offers accusingly, raising his voice to follow the ex-op. "It's Charlie!"
"No doubt…"
"So how much longer are we going to put up with this?"
"I don't know Finch. How long?" is the unruffled reply. The rustling sounds of heavy plastic being pulled from a cabinet overlay the comment.
"You're the one that brought him in, remember?"
"Thanks for that reminder, Mr. Reese. Most unhelpful…!"
Finch warily approaches the computer station, gingerly pulling the chair away from the desk. The body is clearly visible now. He represses a shudder as he rolls the chair around to the front and with a weary sigh lowers himself into the seat. Easing his stiffened leg to one side, he tries to focus on the sounds of Reese preparing to deal with this latest development - anything to keep from thinking about that cadaver…
"I really thought he would be an asset. Help manage our…problem." Finch says unhappily.
"Well, yes. You have an assassin in the library. And that's always been the issue with hiring that kind of help to control a crisis. At some point the question becomes…who controls the assassin?" Finch would have no idea as to the clear truth of that statement, and he's certainly not going to enlighten him.
Draping the large piece of plastic over his arm, Reese returns to the computer area where Finch glares at the black film with trepidation. "Is that what you use to dispose of a body? I would have thought you of all people would be more creative. Even Megan Tillman planned to use…"
"I make do with what I have on hand Finch" Reese interrupts. "This is to wrap corpse and then I find a empty dumpster somewhere to make it disappear." And it wouldn't be the first time the he'd had to use such a method of disposal…but his boss doesn't need to know that either!
Finch grimaces, and resolutely swiveling his chair around to face the hallway, calls out.
"You might as well come in here Charlie. I know you're there!"
Silence greets the command.
"Looks like Charlie wants no part of the clean-up…" says Reese, now on his knees and proceeding to roll the stiffening body onto the plastic sheet. "You know this was left here just to prove to you he's doing his job…"
"Well, I can do without this kind of verification, thank you very much!"
Turning once more toward the hallway, Finch continues in a loud voice, "And do you hear that, Charlie? Next time get rid of the evidence someplace else!"
Reese chuckles. No way is Charlie going to come anywhere near his enraged employer right now. Lifting the plastic wrapped body he leaves the chamber to dispose of Charlie's kill in what Finch likely hopes is some far away location.
Slowly rolling his chair back to its customary place, Finch carefully places his feet under the desk - anywhere other than on the corpse's prior location. A whole morning wasted. He needs to get back to work.
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Charlie watches the proceedings with aloof interest. His job is done. A swift and clean kill. What more could these people ask for?
And, no…he does not do "clean-up"! At least not of his victims. Not part of his job.
He takes one last swipe across his face, wiping off the rest of the rat stink. Then lifts his tail and silently pads down the hall. There's another one around here; he can hear it scurry behind the walls. It's just a matter of time before he scores another kill.
He is proud of his work…he is the best. After all, he's not known as The Exterminator for nothing…
And this time he'll leave his handiwork ON the desk!