DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BLACKLIST!
Why Am I Special?
Case 1: Ranko Zamani
The all too familiar din of the alarm clock cut through the still morning air in the room. From the bed, one occupant sat up immediately, put on their glasses and stood up with a stretch. Crossing the room to the covered windows, the man opened the curtains with a flourish, greeting the morning sun cheerfully. The other bed occupant groaned, cursed loudly and turned over, pulling the sheet over their head.
"Come on, Liz! Time to shake a leg!"
"Do you know how much I hate you sometimes?" She asked without malice as the man sat on the bed next to her and kissed her head through the sheets.
"I know, sleepyhead." He kissed her again. "I'll let you nap while I shower, then I'm dunking you in the tub!" He threatened playfully.
"Fuck sake, I'm up!" She snapped, sitting up in bed, the sheets still over her head, not caring.
He laughed and gently extracted her from the cotton prison. "Want to shower with me?" He winked.
"Why do you think I'm up?" She smirked, letting him take her hand and lead her into the bathroom.
Their routine was long-established, although they had only shared the same home for a few weeks. They showered together most mornings, usually to ensure that Liz was awake on time. Tom was the morning person in their relationship. He left the shower first, brushing his teeth at the sink. When he finished, Liz would leave the shower and take his place at the sink with her own toothbrush. He was always one step ahead of her, dressing as she dried and arranged her hair, and put on her make-up. As she started dressing, he would go downstairs, start breakfast and make coffee. As the smells from downstairs drifted upstairs, she found herself more awake and ready to face the day. Dressing in her work uniform, she headed downstairs. They ate together with the news on TV in the background, swapping plans for the day. He was going to work, and then running an errand in the early evening. He would be home for dinner. He always cooked, or they had take-out. Liz could ruin cereal if left to it. She was working the early shift so had work until four and would then head to the gym for her twice-weekly aerobics class.
When breakfast was finished, she took their new puppy Hudson out into the backyard to do his business while Tom put the dishes in the sink and organised their bags for the day. She and the puppy came back into the house, and the little pup was put into the laundry room with his bowls and toys. The two of them left the house. His salary as a fourth grade teacher and her job as a hostess at a restaurant paid for the rent and their bills. He had bought himself a car from his savings. She used the bus when Tom wasn't available to drive her. She had a licence of her own, but didn't have a car or the money to buy one.
"Got everything?" He asked as he locked the door.
"Well since you packed my bag, it'll be your fault if I'm missing something." She replied slightly tensely as she put a cigarette in between her lips and lit the tip.
"Hey, I thought you quit!" He said with disappointment in his voice.
"Yeah, screw that, I couldn't even go four days without a sneaky one in my lunch break yesterday."
"Liz-" His voice suggested that he was about to start on a disappointed rant about the health risks of smoking, when she interrupted him
"It's a bit of nicotine now, or ecstasy tonight – take your pick, I need something today; my period's nearly here." She snapped as she took a drag, knowing that he would cave. He didn't like her smoking but he hated her using drugs even more. He'd let her have a few cigarettes if she stayed clean.
He sighed but shook his head in surrender. "Come on, your bus'll be here any minute."
As the two of them headed down the steps from the door to the sidewalk, they were suddenly surrounded by an array of black 4x4s with blue flashing lights, and even a helicopter. Men in suits jumped out of the cars and waited. Liz just knew they wanted to point their guns at them. From the lead car, a blonde man headed over to them, holding out an ID badge.
"Elizabeth Scott?" She answered with a clipped 'yeah'. "I'm Special Agent Donald Ressler, FBI. I need you to come with me. Now." The looks on everyone's faces told her that wasn't a request.
She pursed her lips. "Tom, I might be late for dinner."
!"!
Three hours later, Liz sat in an office in silence, her bag at her feet. She rested her head back against the glass wall behind her as she contemplated everything that had happened since she had woken up that morning. After she had been shepherded into a car outside her house, the cars had sped through the streets of Washington DC at an unbelievable speed, eventually pulling into a secure underground car park underneath the FBI headquarters. Ushered in through a back entrance by Agent Ressler and armed guards, she and her bag were searched and then put into a small interrogation room. And then she waited. For hours. Eventually she had slumped across the cold metal desk and dozed for an hour or so, until the door opened. It was Ressler with his hands on his hips.
"Good dreams?" He taunted sarcastically.
"Not bad, thanks. I dreamt that I actually got to work on time." She snapped back.
He just smirked back. "Come on, the boss is in."
He and a small team escorted her through the building, coming to an office. She was told to sit in the chair across from the desk; the 'boss' was on his way. They all waited a minute or two for the door to open again. A tall man in a sharp suit entered, a file in his hand.
"Elizabeth Scott?"
"Unfortunately."
He smirked at her attitude, extending a hand for her to shake, clearly not expecting her to take in. She did, but stayed sitting down. "I'm Assistant Director Harold Cooper, of Counter Terrorism."
"I guessed." She gestured to the name plate on the desk.
He sat down behind the desk and looked at her closely. "Have you been told why you're here?"
"No I haven't." She sulked. "You going to?"
"Tell us about Raymond Reddington."
"Who?" She frowned in confusion. "Is this a joke?" She glanced between Cooper and Ressler, who was glaring at her. "Not a joke then. I've never heard that name."
"He's number four on the FBI's Most Wanted list."
Her stomach clenched, but she kept her face neutral. "I'm not exactly up-to-date with your list."
"He was with the Naval Academy nearly twenty years ago, until he disappeared one night. He'd been heading home for Christmas to see his wife and daughter, never showed. A few years later, several government contacts were revealed, which were traced back to him. He's been off the grid for more than fifteen years, becoming quite prolific in the criminal world. Since then, nothing. That was until a few hours ago. Reddington turned himself in to us. We asked him why and he told us he could help us catch an 'associate' of his, Ranko Zamani."
"That's generous of him." She stated suspiciously.
"That offer came with a condition."
"Of course."
"He says that he will only talk to you."
"You wanna tell us why?" Ressler growled, making her look between them.
Her stomach twisted again. "I don't understand."
"One of the most wanted men in America wants to talk to you – why?" Cooper asked calmly.
"I don't know." She paused as her mind started to race. "You sure it's me? I can't be the only Elizabeth Scott-"
Ressler snapped, "Are you Elizabeth Scott?"
"Yeah."
"Age twenty?"
"Yeah."
"We've checked the city's database – you're the only Elizabeth Scott, age twenty, on record here. You match his description too – Caucasian, 5'5", about 120 pounds, medium length brown hair. It's you." Liz gawped at Ressler. The FBI's number four knew what she looked like? That was more than a little worrying…
"Tell us about yourself, Miss Scott." Cooper ordered casually, leaning back in his chair as he closed her file from when he had been reading it.
She groaned, leaning her head back against the glass wall. "You've got my file, my information…Hell, you've probably got my junior school report cards!"
"Those are the facts. Tell us about you." Cooper explained.
"Okay then…" She fidgeted, adjusting the hem of her t-shirt. "Age twenty, originally from Nebraska, moved to DC for college about 18 months ago-"
Cooper interrupted with a smile. "I've read up on you."
"Fuck sake…" She muttered under her breath, her fingers instinctively starting to stroke the angry scar on her right palm. "You want the dirty details then? My high school class mates called me Bitch. I'm an outsider, a loner. Like most kids who had troubled upbringings, I can be narcissistic, withdrawn, disconnected…" Her next thought brought down her anger and replaced it with depression. "After my past, I wanted a 'normal' life. But I have a fairly 'normal' life now and I'm still miserable so I try to escape that by drinking, smoking, and doing drugs and my boyfriend as often as possible. Enough for you?" She snapped.
They didn't seem fazed by her mention of drugs. They probably already knew. "So why do you think Reddington chose today to hand himself in?"
"I dunno. I mean…It's not a birthday or an anniversary…I have no idea." She shrugged. "Wish I did." She added in spite of herself.
"Well, why you? Why did Reddington pick Elizabeth Scott, specifically?"
"Probably because he hopes to take advantage of me in some way." She was about to continue, then hesitated.
Cooper noticed. "And?"
"And if that is the reason why he chose me," She straightened up in the chair, suddenly feeling stronger about the situation, "He obviously doesn't know me very well. I'm not about to let that happen. I've had enough of it."
That seemed to be the right thing to say. Ressler and Cooped looked at each other. "We'd like you to see him. If you feel up to it."
"I'm up to it."
Cooper smiled again, stood up and escorted her through more corridors. "Reddington is currently being contained in a secure location. We've done a very thorough background check on you and believe that – for now – you can be trusted with this information, but you will be blindfolded on the drive over." He rounded on her suddenly. "If my trust in you turns out to be misplaced-"
"Yeah, yeah, men in black suits will be pounding on my door at night."
"Miss Scott, I'm going to give you a piece of friendly advice." His face hardened and set like stone. "Drop the attitude. Now."
Knowing that this was a man she didn't want as an enemy, she nodded respectfully. "Yes Sir."
"Regarding your past…Problems-"
"I'm not going to talk about that." She said firmly.
He gave a firm nod. "We're heading to the location now."
!"!
"I thought he'd be bigger." She joked quietly as she looked out in to the large open holding room.
From the moment she set eyes on him, she knew her life would never be the same again. A harmless looking bald man in his forties, strapped into a chair in the middle of a large glass and metal box. He didn't look as she had expected. After they had 'briefed' her on the 'situation', she had imagined a huge man with bulging muscles, probably covered in tattoos and old wounds and scars. But there he sat, simply looking ahead of him into the middle distance. But she had the strangest feeling that although she was in a different room and hidden behind a one-way mirror, that he knew she was there. And he was waiting for her.
A hand touched her shoulder. "Are you ready?"
She took a deep breath through her nose and nodded. "I'm ready." It was more of a self-assertion than an answer to the question.
"You don't have to do this if you don't-"
"I want to." She cut across sharply, telling the truth. "I want to talk to him." She stated firmly with another nod.
"You don't have to stay with him for long. Any time you want to leave, you can. If you need anything, we're here."
She stared at the caged man for a few more seconds, leaning forward and bracing herself by her hands. Swallowing thickly, she straightened up. "Open the door."
A loud alarm nearly defended her as she watched the large door to the Box swing open as the whole thing started to move back, leaving Reddington exposed to the room. Ressler opened the door into the 'Box room', as they called it, and allowed her to step through. She descended a short metal staircase slowly, her eyes trained on the face of the bound man. She nearly faltered when his eyes opened and he gave her a genuine and sweet smile, his eyes locked with hers. As she drew nearer, an armed guard placed a chair a few feet away from Reddington. When she was close enough, she settled herself into it, crossing her legs, folding her hands in her lap.
Reddington waited a few seconds for the alarm to stop, before giving a soft laugh. "Elizabeth Scott. Such a pleasure to see you."
"Well, here I am." She gave a little shrug and smile.
He looked her over. "You stopped dying your hair." She tensed, her smile gone. How did he know what her hair had looked like once? "You look much less Goth." He nodded in an approving way.
"I'm not here to talk about me."
He seemed to ignore her. "You moved here for college, didn't you? Over a year ago?" He sighed. "I haven't been home in years."
"Why did you ask to see me?" She snapped again, picking at a thread on her knee, unable to look at him. "I'm nothing special, I'm nobody."
"No. I think you're very special, Lizzie."
It was odd but that one sentence made her feel strangely comforted. "I doubt that; I can count on one hand the people I've been special to. And my name's not Lizzie. It's 'Liz'. To you I'll be 'Miss Scott'." He laughed. "That made you laugh." She observed with a wry smile.
He nodded. "You did. So brave in front of one of the FBI's Most Wanted."
"Well you're only number four." She joked. He laughed again. "I take it you wanted to talk to me about a friend of yours. Zamani, am I saying that right?" He didn't respond, just kept smiling. "Look, Mr Reddington-"
"You can call me Red if you'd like, Lizzie."
She frowned at the name he now seemed determined to use for her. "Mr Red-"
"You don't have to use 'Mr'." He chuckled.
She huffed, rubbing her eyes in frustration. "I had a bag put over my head on the way here. I've been in a holding cell for three hours and they're probably going through my internet history as we speak. I'm tired, hung-over – not that I was drinking because that would be illegal!" She shouted to the agents undoubtedly watching their conversation, "I didn't get chance to finish my first fucking cigarette today because of the Feds swarming me this morning, and I'm over," She glanced at the time on her watch, "Four hours late to work, so I'm probably fired! All in all, I'm in an unbelievably shitty mood!" When she stopped, she looked at him. He was just smiling in amusement. "Don't get me wrong, this is definitely more interesting than my job but still…You wanted to talk to me for a reason. So talk to me."
Reddington sighed resignedly. "Within the hour, Ranko Zamani will abduct the daughter of US General Daniel Riker. There'll be some kind of diversion, communications will go down, and then he'll grab the girl. He wants to be out of the country within thirty-six hours. If you don't move quickly, she will die. That's what I know."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I got him into the country." He answered smoothly.
"And I'm supposed to trust you?"
He laughed. "No, of course not! I'm a criminal, Lizzie. Criminals are notorious liars. Everything about me is a lie." He looked at her closely, making it hard for her to resist the urge to shuffle in the seat. "But if anyone will give me a second chance, it'll be you. We've both overcome so much. I mean look at you – your father was a criminal. Your mother killed herself in shame. But here you are, about to make a name for yourself, about to capture Ranko Zamani. I'm going to make you famous, Lizzie."
!"!
She couldn't take any more. She shot up out of the chair and almost ran back to the observation room, ripping the door open and slamming it shut behind her so hard it vibrated in its frame. "What the hell have you told him about me?!"
"What are you talking about?" Ressler asked.
"How could he know those things? Personal things, about my family! I've never told anyone those things!"
"Why didn't your father's record show up when we checked you out?" He demanded.
She ignored him, looking straight at Cooper. "I think you should send someone to the girl."
Ressler scoffed. "Sir, this is a bluff-"
Annoyed by his attitude, she demanded, "Why would he lie to me straight away when he obviously wants me to trust him?"
He started with a patronising tone of voice. "Miss Scott, I've been working Reddington's case for five years-"
"Yeah, and where have those five years gotten you?" She effectively silenced him. She turned back to Cooper. "You brought me here, you wanted me to speak to him, you want my opinion? That girl will be taken." She started to shake. "Excuse me." She rushed past them out into an empty corridor, paced for a second before bending over and taking deep breaths. "Oh god…" With shaking hands, she took her phone out of her pocket, dialled Tom's number and waited for him to pick up.
"Liz? Liz, what's wrong? What was this morning about?"
"It was the FBI, they've brought me somewhere, they-they wanted my help with something."
"What? What's going on?"
"Babe, I don't know if I can tell you…" She heard footsteps approaching her. She looked up and saw Ressler walking over, her coat and bag in his hands.
"Good show in there. Now pull it together – you've called in the cavalry." He thrust her things into her hands.
"Yeah, I-I just need a minute to-"
"You don't have a minute. Come on, we gotta go." He brushed past her and headed down the corridor.
She put the phone back to her ear. "Tom, I gotta go. There's a girl, something's happened…They need my help." In front of her, she saw Ressler roll his eyes.
"Do you…I don't know…Will you want anything for dinner?"
She almost laughed. Every day she was grateful for having Tom in her life. "I don't know, I don't think so."
Ressler barked at her, "Scott, we gotta go!"
She ignored him again, half-turning away to have some privacy. "I love you, Tom Keen. Okay?" She could almost hear his gorgeous smile as he told her he loved her too. "I'll see you soon." She hung up before Ressler could shout at her again, climbing into the car that sped off before she'd even closed the door fully.
!"!
A voice came through the car's phone and told them that the General's daughter was at a ballet lesson. They headed straight to the studio, Liz, Ressler and two heavily armed guards hurrying through the doors. Ressler approached the reception and told the woman behind the desk the situation. She quickly led them down a corridor decorated with various portraits of dancing women. As they drew closer to the room, Liz turned to the guards.
"Guys, please, the guns. Don't scare the kids." They nodded and hung back a few paces. Ressler made to follow Liz into the room but she stopped him too. As she was about to step into the hall, she turned back to Ressler, spotting his small pin of an American flag. "Give me your pin."
"What?"
"Your pin, I'm going to give it to her." He huffed but removed it. She put it in her pocket and followed the teacher over to a little girl, probably about five years old. Liz heard the teacher call her Beth as she told Beth to go with her. Liz crouched down to Beth's level and smiled kindly. "Hey Beth, don't be scared, I just need you to come with me, okay?" She took Beth's hand and led her out the studio, past Ressler and the guards. "Have you got a coat?" The girl nodded and led her over to a peg with her name on it. Liz picked up the pink coat, helping Beth put it on, cooing over how 'cute' her coat was. Beth slipped off her ballet shoes as Liz got her 'cool' little boots ready, helping her slip those on too. Liz took her hand again and led her down the corridor back out to the cars.
"Go in the middle one." Ressler ordered, climbing in the front vehicle.
Liz opened the back door of the middle vehicle, lifting Beth into the large car. She fastened her seat belt, closed the door and quickly got in the other side. "Ready? We're just going for a drive, okay?" Liz fastened her own seatbelt and turned back to Beth, checking her seatbelt. "So your name's Beth, yeah?" The girl nodded shyly. "My name's Beth too! I'm Elizabeth, but my friends call me Liz. You can call me Liz if you want." She pulled Ressler's pin out of her pocket. "You know what this is, Beth?"
"My daddy has a pin like that."
Liz gave her a big smile. "He does? I bet your daddy has loads of medals. I think you should have this pin, 'cos to get this pin you have to be really brave." She and Beth smiled at each other as Liz pinned it to the girl's coat. Without a word, Beth pulled off her multi-coloured bracelet with plastic animal pendants and put it on Liz's wrist. "Oh wow!" She gushed breathily, adjusting the bracelet to be comfortable. "You don't have to-" Beth smiled at her again. "Thank you, Beth, this is so beautiful!"
Beth touched a yellow animal pendant. "This one's Pokey, he's my favourite. You gotta be careful with him and keep him safe cos he gets scared."
"Okay, I promise I'll look after him!" Liz didn't think she had many talents or good qualities about her, but she knew she could talk to kids.
Liz kept Beth talking throughout the drive. When they were crossing over a bridge, a man in brightly coloured overalls waved a STOP sign at them. Liz watched as Ressler talked to the man for a minute before signalling to the driver of the car to turn around. The driver told her that there was a chemical spill on the road so they would have to turn around. It never occurred to Liz that Reddington had warned of a diversion. She asked Beth if she wanted to call her dad, and she nodded.
"Do we have the number-"
The impact was intense. She was thrown to the side, feeling the seatbelt cut into her neck as the car was pushed by a huge truck. Shattered glass sprayed over all of them as the car rolled onto its side, moving for a few more seconds before stopping. Liz called out to Beth, making sure she was okay. She unclipped her seatbelt, crouching down in front of the girl, unfastening her seatbelt too and helping her sit up straight, holding her against her side protectively. As adrenaline surged through her system, shards of glass cut her legs through her jeans, though she didn't feel anything.
"Take this!" The second guard pushed a gun into Liz's hands. "Careful, it's loaded and ready to fire! Just point and shoot!"
"I can't see, I've got glass in my eyes!" The driver called out, just as bullets were fired through the windscreen, killing both him and the second guard. Liz's face was splattered with blood, shocking her into action.
"Cover your ears, honey!" Grunting at the recoil on the gun and the shockwaves sent through her untrained wrists, she shot a few times through one of the windows, hitting a man a few times. Sure he was dead, she turned to the other window and shot again, taking down another man. Then she ran out of bullets. Looking around for a fresh clip, she was startled by a voice coming from on top of the car.
"Don't shoot! If you want to save the girl, give her this." A gas mask was dangled a foot above her.
Looking between that and Beth's terrified but trusting face, Liz was torn. She had no more ammo – or if there was, she couldn't find it and didn't know how to reload the now useless gun – and their attackers were going to gas them with something harmful or possibly even deadly. Gasping in frustration, she reached up and pulled the gas mask out of the man's hand.
"Okay, honey, we gotta put this on you. This smoke'll hurt us so you have to wear this, okay?" She helped Beth put the mask on, making sure it was fastened.
"What about you?" Beth asked, her voice muffled through the mask.
Liz glanced upwards, only to see a hand counting down on its fingers. "There's only one, for you. Now listen," She held Beth's face gently, looking into her eyes, "These men are going to take you."
"Are they gonna hurt me?"
"No, baby, they're not going to hurt you. I'm going to find you, Beth, okay? I promise!" A canister was thrown into the car, landing by their feet. Not half a second later, cream gas started pouring out of it, quickly making Liz's throat itch and eyes burn. She felt Beth being lifted out of the car. "Beth, I'll find you! I will!"
When Beth was out of the car, Liz scrambled around looking for a new clip for the gun, knowing that the attackers weren't just going to leave her alive. Grasping a fresh one in her bleeding hand, she held the gun closer to her face, her burning eyes making it difficult to see. Feeling a notch on the side of the gun, she pulled it experimentally, relieved to feel the empty magazine drop out. She shoved the new clip into the gun when she started coughing. She coughed into her hand for a second, blinking rapidly to try and clear her eyesight.
Unbeknownst to her, a shadow loomed. A gun rose. A shot fired. Realising that she was still alive, she looked up. Struggling to her feet in the tight space, she grabbed hold of the top of the car and started to pull herself out, barely feeling more pieces of glass going into her palms. Struggling to find any purchase under her feet, she used her arms to get out, awkwardly climbing until her torso was free. Shifting to the side, she sat on the car door, swung her legs free and jumped down onto the concrete of the road. She hurried away on wobbling legs, only getting a few feet away before a massive explosion behind her knocked her forward. She coughed again as she struggled to get to her feet. Motor sounds were heard from below. She jogged shakily over to the railing of the bridge, seeing two little boats speeding away, Beth's pink coat standing out amongst the yellow overalls of the kidnappers.
What was going to happen now?
!"!
Back up and ambulances arrived on the scene only a few minutes later. After she had seen Beth being taken away, Liz had sunk to the floor in despair as the adrenaline left her system, leaving her shaking like a leaf. Ressler ran over to her after minute, soaking wet and dripping. He took the gun off her and looked over her bleeding hands and face. She hadn't noticed that her left temple had also been cut by glass, a wide trail of blood trickling down her face and neck, staining her scarf. Ressler helped her stand and waited with her until the ambulances arrived, getting her seen to right away. Thankfully none of the cuts on her face, hands or shins were very deep so she wouldn't need stitches but they did put a band-aid on her temple and wrapped her shins and hands, the paramedic trying to cheer her up by telling her she could pass as a boxer. Liz didn't laugh, or even smile. Inside she felt too guilty about what had happened, a feeling she was used to. She had promised Beth she would keep her safe. And instead she had practically handed her over to the kidnappers.
Ressler put her in a car and she sat in the back silently as she was driven back to the Post Office. Cooper began asking her questions as soon as he saw her, a grim look on his face. Apparently Beth's father, the General, was in his office and was calling for blood. Liz just nodded dumbly, not really hearing him. She headed straight to the observation room, looking through the mirror at Reddington. He had known that this would happen. Surely he knew what would happen next? She reached out for the door handle, but Cooper's hand gripping her arm stopped her.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to talk to him."
"No, not yet."
"What? Why not?!"
"Because we can't rule out that he was involved. And if he was, we have to wait until his people make a demand."
"Can Beth wait that long?" She snarled, pulling her arm out of his grip and ripping the door open. She heard Cooper sigh. She stormed down the staircase as the door to the Box opened, but the whole thing didn't move back as it had done earlier. Reddington watched her approach, her face set like thunder. "Where is she?" She demanded as she got closer. "It's been two hours! Are your people going to make a demand or not?"
He waited a second before replying. "'My people'? I told you Zamani would take the girl. I told you that was all I knew. This is in your hands now, Lizzie."
"I need your help with Zamani, Red." She stepped closer, one foot resting on the higher platform of the floor of the Box. She knew it was a typical aggressive body language tactic but she didn't care. He didn't seem fazed by the action either.
"How about a trade? I'll tell you about Zamani if you tell me about the scar on your palm."
She hesitated, her right hand instinctively clenching as if to shield the scar. "There was a fire when I was a kid."
"Someone tried to hurt you?" If she hadn't been listening closely enough, she would have easily missed the undercurrent of anger in his question. Why was he angry at the thought of someone hurting her?
She sighed, walking into the box and sitting down on the metal bench next to Reddington. "No, not exactly."
"May I see it?" She paused for only a second before slowly unwrapping her hand. When the bandage fell away, she extended her palm to him and pulled her sleeve back slightly, allowing him to see the Y shaped mark that ran from the flesh of her palm down over her wrist. He examined it closely, his eyes moving over it. After a second she pulled her hand back, rewrapping it carefully. When she looked up at him again, he smiled at her. His eyes bored into hers. He frowned as he asked, "Do you really want a normal life now?"
"How the hell could you-?!"
"A normal future won't fix your troubled past-"
"You're the Concierge of Crime – you don't have the right to lecture people on normal lives!" She snarled. He had the grace to look slightly ashamed, though not for long. "The girl. Now."
"You won't find her until you learn to look closer."
She scoffed. "And just how should they look at it?"
"Not them. You."
"Me? Why me? I tried to help and look what happened – Beth still got taken."
"You have to do it because that was the deal I made with them." He smirked at her as he nodded his head at the observation room.
"You're going to force me to do something I really don't want to do?"
He smiled. "No."
"Good." She huffed, standing up and starting to walk away.
"I won't be forcing you because you're going to do it willingly." Liz stopped and turned back around. "You want to get her back."
Liz swallowed thickly. "They took her right out of my hands. If we hadn't gone to collect her and put her in that car-"
"She would have been taken at another time. A time when she wouldn't have had someone with her to make her feel safe."
"How do you know I-"
He pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "Why else would you feel so obviously guilty?"
"Okay. I want to get her back. You know how. So tell me how."
!"!
Reddington had grinned at her request and nodded. Liz had gone back to the observation room and asked Cooper to release him into the Briefing Room so that they could all discuss what to do next. Cooper, impressed by how Liz had handled Reddington, agreed. Reddington was released from the chair, though his hands were still handcuffed in front of him. Liz went straight into the Briefing room, gathering all the documents and files onto one table, displaying them clearly in case they were needed – stressful situations brought out her 'organisational side', or OCD. While Reddington was being released, she looked over to the evidence boards that Ressler and the team had put together. She knew it would be pointless for her to look them over – she wasn't FBI, she didn't know any names or recognises any faces – but she was involved and she was hell-bent on getting Beth back alive and safe.
A pair of armed guards brought Reddington through to the BR, letting him walk around the office as he examined everything. Cooper stood with his arms crossed, a finger tensely touching his lip. Liz gathered that was a habit of his. Ressler was near the front of the room with his hands on his hips and a wide stance, obviously trying to be seen as the man in charge of the case. Body language was a telling thing. Reddington also looked over the evidence boards, leaning in close to take everything in.
"Well at least you know what Zamani looks like." He mocked as he inspected all the pictures of the Serbian terrorist. He looked closer at another image. "Oh I haven't seen that guy for years! Very interesting fellow. And completely unrelated to this." Ressler bristled in irritation. Another picture of two men getting out of a car. One of them had an arrow pointing to him. "No, you're pointing at the wrong guy." He moved that picture and put a picture of an explosion over the first man, leaving only the second visible. Ressler tried to tell him off for moving pictures but Reddington just continued. "Miraslov. They call him the Chemist. Very skilled munitions expert. Quit MIT to work for Russians. For the past two years he's been a very expensive freelancer." He moved on to another evidence board. "What the hell is all this?" He muttered to himself, moving on. "Oh, the German. The Banker, called Reinnard. He's probably moving the money." He put the Banker next to the Chemist and Zamani. "So, Lizzie," Liz's head popped up out of the file she had been reading on Beth's father, "What do we have so far?"
"Well I don't know, do I?"
He turned his torso around so he could scrutinise her. "Yes you do. Come on." He nodded his head to the evidence boards. She sighed under her breath and moved forward, aware that she was now the centre of attention.
"Reddington, what do you expect-" Ressler started to snap, waving his hand at Liz.
"Shut up, Donald." He tossed back easily. "Now, Lizzie, what's going on here? What's the story?" He gestured to the new board of evidence he had arranged.
She looked at him and whispered, "Red, how can I-"
"Stop talking and think."
Liz took a deep breath, took off her hoodie and looked over the new evidence board. "Your thirty-six hour timeline probably means just one event. Definitely in the city. An attack?" She guessed with a shrug.
"You're thinking like a cop." Reddington criticised, frowning disapprovingly at her. "Cops are useless, they're limited by protocols."
"So what do you want me to do?" She snapped.
"Make this personal. What about the girl-"
"Beth."
"What do we have on her and her father?"
Liz went back to the table and picked up the General's file. "Um, he started military school when he was-"
"Lizzie."
She looked up and Reddington was frowning again. With a small huff, she closed the file and held it against her chest, her arms crossed over it, as if to fight the temptation to read it again. "The General spent time in Bosnia, near where Zamani grew up. That can't be just a co-incidence."
"The screens behind us." Reddington hinted, his eyes locked on Liz's face.
She looked up at the computer screens above their heads. One held a map of Bosnia, a biohazard warning symbol near the city where Zamani lived. "The General and his squad bombed a chemical weapons station, hundreds of miles of land were destroyed or irradiated." Something connected in Liz's brain. "Zamani's family died in the blast. But he survived. And now he's dying. And dying makes anyone dangerous."
"So what does he want before he dies?" Reddington whispered.
"Revenge. Zamani lost his family because of the General…So now he's going to even the score. You said the Chemist is a 'munitions' expert – I take it you mean bombs?" She asked Reddington, who just kept smiling. "Bombs then. Zamani hired the Chemist to build a bomb – probably chemical from his history – and he's going to detonate it in DC."
"Why the girl?"
Liz's eyes flicked between a picture of Beth and one of a younger Zamani with his family. "She's going to be the deliverer. She'll be right at the centre of the explosion. She won't stand a chance."
Reddington looked at her with something akin to pride as the office began to bustle with activity. Cooper and Ressler approached them.
"How do we find them?" Cooper asked, his finger still on his lips.
"I have a contact, the Innkeeper. He runs some safe-houses. Lean on him. He'll know where the Chemist is."
"Good work." Ressler spoke in Liz's ear.
"Thanks."
"That wasn't a compliment."
Liz turned around to ask him what he meant but he was already walking away. Cooper and Reddington were arguing.
Cooper asked sarcastically, "You think we're going to put you up in the Sheraton?"
Reddington just laughed. "Not to worry, Harold. The Sheraton isn't my scene."
!"!
Liz looked around the suite that Reddington was now being housed in, and knew that she would probably never get to experience a hotel like this in her life. Most of the FBI agents shared her awe, trying and failing to disguise how they were also looking at the large and opulent rooms. Reddington, however, looked perfectly at home, sitting down regally in an overstuffed armchair.
"What do you think, Lizzie?"
"It's very you." She replied with a trite smile. "Personally I think the Box is much more comfortable."
Reddington chuckled. "You've got a lovely sense of humour, Lizzie. Why don't you sit down? We can talk some more. You could tell more jokes."
"No thanks. I'm going to head home for a while."
"Lizzie-"
"Until we find the Chemist there's nothing to do for Beth. So I'm going home for a shower and a bite to eat." She didn't wait for a reply before leaving.
!"!
An FBI agent drove her home. When she arrived, the sun was just setting, putting the time around six. She unlocked the door with her key, letting herself in. She called out for Tom, having seen his car parked outside. She didn't get an answer as she toed off her sneakers. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked it and saw a text from an unknown number. 'FOUND CHEMIST AND LAB. NO BOMB AT SCENE. RESSLER.' She typed a quick reply. 'Bomb built? Liz.'
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sign propped up on a chair in the living room. 'I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU' was written in gold glitter on the white card. There were gold and silver balloons everywhere. And a red ring box on a cushion. Liz's heart almost exploded as she walked into the living room, picked up the box and opened it. The ring was simple and the diamond wasn't huge, but it was still a nice ring. Tom sat at the dining table with his back to her. She headed into the room, seeing a bottle of champagne in a silver bucket on the kitchen counter, two full flutes next to it.
"Well I have to say, this is a surprise!" She laughed nervously as she picked up one of the glasses, turning around to look at Tom. And she wished she hadn't. "Tom?" He was tied to the chair, his shirt stained with blood. His nose was bleeding and looked broken. Blood trickled from his hairline. He was bleeding into one of his eyes. His bloodied and torn clothes hid any further injuries. Liz dropped the champagne flute and rushed to Tom, when a gun pressed into the side of her head. She turned her head slowly and saw Ranko Zamani.
"Sit down please." She hesitated through fear. "Sit down!" He shouted.
"Okay, okay." She said as calmly as she could, holding Tom's hand gently. From the feel of the bones, it was also broken.
"Do as I say, or I'll shoot your boyfriend. Tom and I have been talking-"
"Yeah, I can see that!" Liz bit back, adrenaline rushing into her system for the second time that day. Zamani glared at her and punched Tom in the stomach. He groaned in pain behind the duct tape covering his mouth. "No! Tom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"Be quiet, Eh-leez-eh-bit! I told Tom that the FBI figured out my plan," From his pocket he pulled out some pills, popped them in his mouth and swallowed, "To take the General's daughter. It was a bit of a surprise, but my people handled it quite well, I think."
"Tom, it's going to be okay." Liz said quietly, gently stroking his hand, being careful not to cause him more pain.
"But then," Zamani continued as he pulled out a pocket knife and opened it, "You were there. And you are too young to be FBI. So my people dug deeper. You are just a kid. You are no-one special. So why were you there, Eh-leez-eh-bit? Hmmm?"
"I don't know, they just called me and asked me to help-"
Zamani clearly didn't believe her, stabbing Tom in his left forearm. Liz screamed and Tom cried out, but his voice was muffled. Zamani continued, unfazed. "And then the FBI came for my Chemist friend. I had finished with him so they saved me from payment. Thank you." He smiled sweetly at Liz. "And it made me wonder what else you know." His smile dropped. "What else do you know?"
"N-Nothing, I don't know anything." Her eyes shifted to Tom, who was looking weaker. "Tom-"
"No, no, no, look here." Zamani ordered, beckoning her with his hand. There was a strange mark on the back of his hand. "I ask the questions. What else do you know?"
"They-They think a bomb. They knew about the girl, but they're guessing on the rest." Zamani didn't believe her again, this time stabbing Tom's thigh. "You bastard!" She screamed.
"What else do you know?"
"Nothing!"
He laughed. "You're not as smart as Reddington says." Somewhere in Liz's mind, that registered. "My friend, he is obsessed with you. I don't see why." He pulled the knife out of Tom's thigh, put it on the table and picked up a gun, making Liz's heart race even faster. "What I have planned will mean many casualties. So now, you have a choice – stop me now and save many lives. Or save only one." In a flash, he had grabbed the knife and ploughed it into Tom's stomach. Liz screamed, instinctively rushing from the chair and to Tom's side. "What will you choose?" He taunted as he walked away.
Not even noticing the immaculate table set that was laid out, Liz grabbed a thick cloth napkin and pressed it firmly under the knife. She tried not to touch the knife, knowing that it was actually stopping further bleeding. "Keep your eyes open, baby! Keep them open!" She begged, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialling 911.
!"!
The next few hours were a blur for Liz. The police and an ambulance arrived only minutes later, bursting through the front door. The paramedics rushed to Tom, carefully removing him from the chair and strapping him into a stretcher. The police stayed with Liz as they searched the rest of the house and tried to get some answers from her. They sat her down and asked her what had happened, being patient with her when she couldn't answer coherently and cried. Liz was shocked further when Ressler arrived at the house as the police were taking a statement. He took a look around the scene, heard Liz mumble 'Zamani' and then immediately got on his phone and started making calls. Forensics teams came and started photographing everything. All the while Liz sat on an armchair and cried silently. When she regained some thought, she stood up and moved silently over to Ressler.
"Take me to him."
"Your boyfriend? He's still in surgery."
"Reddington."
Ressler looked her over and then nodded. "Do you want to change?" Liz was already on her way over to the door and pulling a pair of boots on, uncaring that her jeans, shirt and hands were still stained with Tom's blood.
The ride over to the hotel was silent and tense. Liz stared out of the window, not making a sound. She could feel Ressler occasionally look at her, but he didn't say anything. When they pulled up at the hotel, Liz climbed out before he had the chance to put the handbrake on and switch the engine off. When people in the hotel saw her, they dodged out of the way, but she didn't care. Reddington had known about Beth, about Zamani, about the Chemist…Had he known that this would happen? Or had he even organised it himself? She caught the elevator, not holding the doors to Ressler who was running after her. The elevator arrived at the right floor and Liz stormed down the corridor, unblinking as she burst through the doors to the suite. That had been too easy. Ressler must have told the guards to let her through. The living room was empty. She made her way into the dining room and found Reddington there doing a crossword puzzle.
"Did you do this?"
He looked up and appeared alarmed by her appearance. "What happened, Lizzie?"
"Zamani was in my house! My boyfriend is on a ventilator!"
He pointed the paper at her and spoke slowly but firmly. "Calm down and tell me what happened."
"Don't play stupid, you're the only thing connecting us! He told me that you're obsessed with me."
Reddington did pause for a second but continued. "Did he mention the girl or the bomb?"
"We're not a team!"
"Zamani-"
"I'm not your partner!"
"What did he say, Lizzie?"
She threw her arms up in the air. "I don't know! Something about…Something about the Chemist and casualties…He talked about you. He actually thanked me for getting rid of the Chemist."
"So the bomb's still in play."
Liz threw the nearest thing, a lamp, on to the floor. "Why the hell was he in my house?! Tell me! Why is my boyfriend dying in a hospital bed?!"
"The truth is, Lizzie, that despite your feelings, your boyfriend," He spat the word distastefully, "Doesn't matter."
Liz snapped. Now behind him, she grabbed the pen he had been writing with and thrust it into the side of his neck. Credit to him, he didn't even cry out. He put his hand over hers to stop her hand moving, but otherwise didn't react. She leant in next to his ear. "Okay, I just punched a hole in your carotid artery, you've probably got one minute before you pass out. So listen to me carefully. You're going to tell me how to stop Zamani and save Beth, or I let you die. Do you understand?"
Reddington actually seemed amused. "Yeah. But if I die…You'll never know the truth about Tom."
Too angry to care about Reddington anymore, she hissed, "You know nothing about Tom." She straightened up and pulled the pen from his neck, throwing it onto the table and storming out just as quickly as she'd came in.
!"!
Ressler drove her home again. This time he tried to get her to talk to him. What had she said to Reddington? Why was there fresh blood on her hand? Reddington had been taken to hospital with a wound to his neck – did she have anything to do with it, because Reddington said he had 'slipped'. He told her that Tom had come out of surgery and it had gone well, but the doctors had induced a medical coma to give his body time to heal. All three of his knife wounds had been repaired, his organs were alright and he should recover in a few weeks.
When they arrived back at the house, the Forensics teams were just about finishing up. She watched them for nearly an hour before they packed up and left. Ressler told her that there would a security team outside the house all night, 'so don't worry about Zamani coming back'. She may not have been FBI but even she knew that Zamani wouldn't come back so soon. She thanked him and closed the door after him. Twelve hours. Her life had been so simple twelve hours ago. She had been a waitress in a nice house with a loving boyfriend. And now…Now what did she have?
She went into the laundry room to let Hudson out from when she had shut him in so the Forensics team could work without being interrupted. The little puppy bounded around her feet for a second, ran into the dining room and then back to Liz and whined in fright. Even the puppy seemed to have known what had happened to Tom. Standing in the doorway to the living room, Liz stared at the blood stains all over the floor. Had they been there when she had gotten home? If so, how had she not seen them when she walked through to Tom? How selfish she must be…Her boyfriend was beaten and bleeding in a chair and she didn't notice. Fuelled by more anger, she went into the kitchen, got out a cleaning tub and filled it with hot water, collecting a box of soda powder and set to work.
Hudson curled up underneath an armchair with a chew toy as he watched Liz scrub furiously at the carpet for hours, all to no effect. After she had used the whole box of soda and the blood stains didn't seem even slightly lighter, Liz screamed in frustration and pain, throwing the scrubbing brush against a wall and sprawled across the floor, tears flowing from her eyes. Hudson licked her cheek and curled up next to her as they both fell asleep, not waking until the sun shone through a window and onto Liz's face, waking her. She roused slowly, let Hudson into the back garden and went upstairs for a shower. With a grimace she peeled off her blood stained jeans and top, throwing them onto the floor as she stepped under the nearly scalding hot spray, scrubbing her body and hair. She was dressed and with Tom at the hospital within the hour. He had been washed of blood, but his face and body were covered in dark and angry bruises. His hand was in a cast, his forearm was bandaged and he was hooked up to a ventilator. She sat with him for a while before kissing his forehead and asking the FBI agents who were accompanying her to take her to see Reddington. They both exchanged a glance at each other, obviously having heard what she did the night before, but they nodded and drove her over.
She climbed out of the car when it pulled up by the kerb and rushed into the hospital. The receptionist told her what floor and room when she told them who she was. When she got there, Ressler was standing guard outside as a male nurse was coming out. Ressler spotted her and glared at her, his hands on his hips and a serious look on his face. She looked apologetic, genuinely feeling upset over what she did to Red.
"Scott, you can't be here."
She pleaded, "Just let me talk to him."
"Like you did last night?"
"Not quite…"
"You stabbed him in the neck!"
"I thought he slipped." She pouted. Ressler just kept glaring. "Look, I'm sorry for what I did – I really am! – but Reddington knows Zamani. Two minutes?" She gave him her best puppy dog eyes.
He sighed and caved. "Two minutes."
"Thank you." She hurried into the room, over to where the curtains around the bed were drawn. "Red, it's Liz. I'm sorry about-" She pulled back the curtain and paused in disbelief. The covers were thrown back, the window was open and there was rope hanging out of it. Looking out the window she saw a man in a fedora – Reddington's trade mark – walking through the car park. "Shit…" She ran back out the room. "He's gone!" She shouted at Ressler as she ran down the corridor back to the elevator. The doors were open and she saw the male nurse, who smirked and winked at her. "Wait!" The doors closed before she could get there. Ressler shouted to her from down the corridor. She hurried over. "What do we do now?"
"Don't worry, we've got a tracking chip in his arm." He pulled out his walkie-talkie and started issuing commands, telling 'units to be ready to move' and for someone to 'pull up Reddington's chip'. They only had to wait a minute before a voice came through the radio and told them Reddington's location. "Okay, we're going to head over there right now!" He took hold of her elbow and started running with her. Another elevator had come and they climbed into the car, heading down to the ground floor and rushing to the nearest cars. "Scott, you get in this one with these guys. I'll get in the other one. Here, take these," He handed her a spare walkie-talkie and a temporary FBI ID pass, "In case you need them." She nodded and climbed in the back of the first SUV and the driver took off at alarming speeds. Liz looked back and saw the second SUV pull off and follow them, keeping up.
Liz spoke into the walkie-talkie. "Ressler? Where are we heading? Over."
Static crackled before Ressler's voice came through. "Scott, no-one uses 'over' anymore. Reddington's chip signal is coming from the Lincoln memorial, ETA five minutes."
"What do we do when we get there?"
"We'll think of that when we get there!" Liz rolled her eyes and sat back for the rest of the ride. They stopped when Ressler's voice came through on the radio. "Okay, he's somewhere here, guys! Proceed on foot!" The two guards got out of the car, leaving Liz in the back. She waited for a minute before her phone rang.
She answered it. "Hello?"
Reddington's voice came through. "There's a snag; Zamani's after children, not just the girl."
"Red? Where are you?"
"I need you to tell me what Zamani said last night. In your house; what did Zamani say, Lizzie?"
She was surprised that he would still use her nickname even after she stabbed him. She didn't hear his question through her surprise. "I'm sorry I stabbed you-!" She spluttered hysterically.
"Lizzie, focus! What did Zamani say? What did you see?"
"Um…He talked about the Chemist-"
"No. What did you see?"
Liz's mind flashed with images of Tom's face, blood, knives and screams. "Blood, there was blood everywhere-"
"Take a breath, Lizzie."
She did so, clearing her mind of those images. A fresh one cropped up; Zamani beckoning her to look at him with his hand. The mark. "A tattoo."
"No, he's Serbian Orthodox; he wouldn't have a tattoo."
"That mark, I've seen it before somewhere. Where have I seen it?" She whispered to herself, closing her eyes again. The mark…Tom's face yesterday morning. Two pamphlets. The Space museum. And…Her eyes shot open. "It was a stamp, not a tattoo. The target's the DC zoo."
"Go there now."
"But-"
"Are you in a car?"
"Yes."
"Anyone else there?"
"No."
"Can you drive?"
"Yes."
"Then drive." He ordered, hanging up the phone.
Liz looked at her handset in disbelief. He hung up on her! She climbed out of the car and got in the driver's seat, pulling off and heading towards the zoo. Oh Ressler would be so angry with her for stealing the car. Thankfully the car's flashing lights were still on and people moved out of her way. She put her foot down as much as she dared, arriving at the zoo in only a few minutes. She pulled up outside of it, taking the walkie-talkie and badge with her, running through the crowds. She held up the badge at the entrance and she was let through. She scanned the crowds, desperately searching for Beth. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, there were children everywhere! Should she look for her bright pink coat? Or could they have redressed her? Her head flicked from side to side and then stopped. A lone little girl sat on a bench at the top of a hill. She wore a pink coat. Liz jogged closer, glad to see that it was Beth and she didn't look hurt.
"Beth, honey?" Beth looked up and looked relieved to see Liz. "Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Are you alone? Is there anyone with you?"
"They said I had to wait for my daddy. They put this on me." She unzipped her coat a few inches, revealing dozens of wires around her chest. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Liz peered over Beth's shoulders and examined her bag. Through the material she could see a digital timer counting down. 02:39.
!"!
She sat down on the bench next to Beth, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as her phone rang. She answered it without checking the ID. "Yeah?"
"Whatever you do, don't touch it."
"Two and a half minutes, we've got to evacuate or something!"
"No, that'll take too long. Stay where you are, my friend's on his way."
"Friend? What friend?" He hung up again. She hoped that wouldn't become a usual occurrence. Liz crouched down in front of Beth and held her hands. What do you say to a five year old when she's got a bomb strapped to her back? By some luck, Beth spoke first.
"Did you keep Pokey safe?"
Liz could have cried for this girl. "Yes, I did. See, here he is." She took the plastic bracelet off and put it back on Beth's tiny wrist. She and Beth fiddled with the animal charms on it. "So do any of these other guys have names?" Beth talked for a little while, until a man suddenly put a bag down on the bench next to her and started pulling out tools, speaking quickly in an Eastern European language. "Did Reddington said you?" He nodded as he talked, obviously recognising the name. "Look, I can't understand you." He ignored her, still speaking. "Can you stop the bomb?" She demanded, pointing to Beth's backpack. He just spoke slowly and made a calming gesture with his hands. She took that to mean 'be quiet'.
"Are we going to be okay?" Beth asked in a quiet voice.
Liz crouched down in front of her again. "Yeah, baby, we're going to be fine, don't worry." Beth didn't seem to believe her. Time to draw out the big guns…"You know how I gave you the pin, to make you brave?" Beth nodded, sniffling. "You wanna see what my daddy gave me? To make me brave?" Beth nodded again. "It's really special, you see, I've never shown anyone before." Liz tugged her sleeve down and showed Beth her scar.
The girl looked at it curiously. "What does it do?"
"Well whenever I'm feeling scared, I just touch it," She stroked her finger over it, "And it makes me brave. It's like magic! Do you think it could make you brave too?" Beth nodded, stroking the scar gently with her finger. "Do you feel the magic? It's making you brave, Beth!"
"It is?"
"Yeah!" The beeping from Beth's backpack suddenly quickened and the man seemed to curse under his breath and started working faster. This was it…This was it…"You're a brave girl, Beth. You're such a brave girl." Liz tried to console the child, while tears filled her own eyes. 'Not yet', she thought, 'not yet. I'm not ready'. And then the beeping stopped and the man grinned at her, removing the device from Beth's bag. "Have you done it?" She asked as he kissed the top of her and Beth's heads and then running off. Beth jumped into her arms, Liz instinctively wrapping her arms tight around her, standing up and looking after the man. "Wait!"
"Consider the device payment for his services." Liz turned around and saw Reddington walk up the hill towards them, calling out something in the fleeing man's language.
"You just gave him a chemical weapon!" She protested as she kept Beth in her arms.
"Yes, he's fascinated by them. It'll be more use to him than us anyway." He grinned at her and patted Beth's back. "How did everything go here?"
Liz scoffed in annoyance, letting Beth down when she called out for her dad, who was running towards them with dozens of armed FBI agents. The General scooped Beth up into his arms as the FBI continued moving forward. "A man, red vest, grey sweatshirt – he's got the bomb." She told them when they got closer. The leader nodded and ordered his squad to keep going. Ressler immediately went straight to Reddington, who had already put his hands on his head, and handcuffed him. Liz flopped onto the bench. "So is that it? It's done?"
He smiled at her. "We're going to make a great team, Lizzie."
!"!
Lizzie was driven home. When she closed the door behind her, she slumped against it. It was done, it was over. Opening her eyes and seeing the blood stains still on the carpet in the living room, she shuddered. Well not completely over. She knew she wasn't going to get the blood out of the cream fabric. Only one thing she could do. She headed into the kitchen, remembering to let Hudson out into the back garden, picked up a large serrated knife and headed back into the living room. Picking a spot of carpet – as it was simply lain down and not secured under the skirting boards – she started to cut and rip the fabric, roughly pulling and cutting and tearing, desperate to get the offending thing out of her house as soon as possible. After an hour, she had most of it up and in pieces. As she pulled back a particular piece, she noticed odd lines in the woodwork underneath. A perfect rectangle, and the boards had some give. Using the knife as an impromptu crowbar, she got the lid off the hole. Inside it was a chest. How long had it been there? Who put it there? The previous owners? She lifted it out of the hole, feeling that it was quite heavy, opened the lid and froze. Money. Hundreds of thousands of US dollars. Passports, more than a dozen. She opened one and nearly burst into tears. Tom's picture on a German passport? She picked up another one. A French one, with Tom's picture. British, Swedish, Canadian, Australian…All with Tom's picture in them. And underneath all the money and passports…Was a gun.
What was happening?!
!"!
She called Ressler on her phone, using the number he had used to text her the night before, asking to speak to Reddington again. Ressler seemed surprised, seeing as the Zamani case was over and finished with, but after asking Assistant Director Cooper, he told her a car would be at her house shortly. She was picked up and taken to the Post Office. Ressler led her down corridors she hadn't seen before, deep underground, and stopped outside a cell. The guard at the door opened the cell, letting light pour into it. Were the prisoners kept in darkness? Liz didn't ponder that too long, stepping in the doorway and seeing Reddington inside.
He opened his eyes and looked at her knowingly. "You've discovered something curious about your boyfriend, haven't you, Lizzie?"
