Wouldn't You Know It

Chapter 2

"Sir."

"Agent Keen, this is not up for discussion."

"I understand that, sir. But if I could just have a moment."

Liz had not budged from the center of his office, even though Assistant Director Harold Cooper had eyed the door for her benefit, as well as returned his attention back to the file on his desk. His wanting of her absence was implicit without a doubt, and judging from the unsightly thick pile of files upon his desk, he was presumably in no mood to waste time. But Liz was not done with him, and at that moment she was more than willing to push and test him if needed.

"Sir…"

"What is it, Agent Keen? And make it quick." Even though slight, Liz detected his deep sigh, as well as all the communicated irritation and impatience that inextricably came with it. She had underestimated him; Cooper isn't one to be pushed easily, especially if he was already aware of the opponent's intentions.

"I would like to assist Agent Ressler, as his back-up."

"He is not in the need of a back-up."

"Sir, I feel that it is a bit…reckless that Agent Ressler is sent to the field alone, without..."

"If he needs back-up, it isn't going to be from you, Agent Keen."

Liz was taken aback by his statement, and his tone that was definitive and certain as hell. She felt as though her next breath was knocked out of her, and as she fought to return to some shred of coherence, Cooper took the sight of her silence as a nod to return to his work. She had to say something, anything.

"Sir, is that statement a reference to my performance as an agent? If that's the case…"

"No, Agent Keen. It's the nature of the mission, which I am not in liberty of discussing. It is classified."

"It's just protocol…to have back-up."

"Agent Ressler has informed me that he is not in a need of a back-up. Especially by a female agent."

Liz was again taken aback by Cooper's statements. He had spoken to Ressler, and it sounded to be quite recent. "Sir, you have spoken to him?"

"Just this morning."

"And…"

"And what, Agent Keen?"

And just say everything he's said, every word, and don't you dare leave anything out. "What is the progress of his mission, sir?"

Cooper simply smiled at her direction, "That is classified information."

"Yes, sir."

She knew that Cooper was not going to say anything else, and she was done fighting it. She felt utterly exhausted, as if it was her mind and will that were tested. And she was certain Cooper can hear the loud thumping of her own heartbeat, if she could manage to contain it in her chest.

"Agent Keen." Cooper called her as she turned toward the door, "I understand that you're concerned for his safety, as he is your partner. I could only tell you that…Agent Ressler is the right man for this mission. He has performed to our expectations, and you have nothing to be…concerned about."

"Thank you, sir."

"And this is the last time we'll be discussing this case."

"Yes, of course."

. . . . . . .

"Six months? Six months! Are you kidding me?"

It was always easier to talk to Reddington, as all the pretense and guise – heck, even pleasantries and manners – simply dissolved with not a second thought. With Reddington, she can yell and scream all she wanted, all that she felt like. She even eyed some objects to throw, if he didn't start giving her some answers.

"Lizzie…"

"Did you know? Did you know that Ressler will be gone for that long?"

"It was two weeks, at first. But he needs more time."

"And this…according to whom? Did Ressler tell you that himself? Oh, don't tell me…don't you dare tell me…"

She had gone straight to Reddington's new abode after work, and now she was huffing and pacing in the great hallway of the massive house, of which she couldn't care less about how he ended up there to begin with. Even Dembe stayed out of her way, and elected to sit on the stool by the kitchen.

"You need to calm down, Elizabeth."

Sometimes when Reddington called her "Elizabeth", she could've sworn he sounded just like her father. "Don't tell me to calm down."

"Elizabeth…"

"Did you talk to Ressler? Did he call you?"

"Yes, he did."

"Great…he called you, he called Cooper. Just about everyone got a call from him, except me. He couldn't even drop me a note saying he's alive?"

"He has me to do that."

"Red, I swear…" Liz shot him a look of frozen disdain, "What did he say? What did he say to you?"

"He said he needs six more months."

"Red…I'm not in the mood to…" She was not in the mood to deal with Reddington being…Reddington. "Is he alright?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't need back-up?"

"No."

"Why does he need six more months?"

Reddington held his tongue, at much to her disappointment. What she didn't care for was the coy smile that crept up on his face, as if he was too smart to be taken in this game. Damn him.

"You're really not going to tell me anything about this mission, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. And I can't."

With a relinquished sigh, Liz plopped down on the plush sofa next to Reddington. She watched the tiny embers of fire escaping from the fire place, and in the stillness of the crackling heat, she felt the sooth and the calm permeate in her mind. If anything, knowing Ressler was alright may be enough for her troubled heart.

"I'm sorry…for being insufferable, I know. I just…wish he had back-up. I keep thinking he's out there, alone…most likely in a dangerous situation, with no one to watch his back."

"I gather he is indeed in a dangerous situation. But Donald can handle it. He sounded confident, at least."

"Well, you know…Ressler thinks he can handle anything. He'd be the last person to call for help."

"Perhaps."

They watched the fire together in a brief moment of silence. There was something about live fire that calmed, and entertained, the weary spirits. "Red, your promise still stands. I'm holding you to that."

"What promise?"

"If anything happens to Ressler, you have to tell me."

"Oh, that. Yes, of course."

"And just out of curiosity…you have Ressler's contact number, am I correct? In case some plans change on our end, and needs to be communicated."

"No, I don't." Reddington got up to throw in a log of wood into the fire place, "For safety reasons, we don't have a number to contact him. It's been Ressler who contacted us, if need be."

"What? So, there's no way you can call him? No number…nothing?"

"Nope. And don't even think about bothering Cooper about it. He doesn't, either."

"Basically, the only way to communicate with Ressler is when he calls you?"

"Basically."

"So, I'm thinking he's not carrying a phone. That means, he's calling you from a pay phone, perhaps?"

"It sounds like it."

. . . . . . .

It's been two months since her talk with Cooper, and she had not heard one word about Ressler, as expected. Even Aram pulled her aside several times and had asked her if she knew anything about her partner's whereabouts. The silence of the Assistant Director was confounding, if not disturbing, and she could never get used to Ressler's absence at the black site. She missed him, and not as a partner, or anything trite like that. She missed him, like how he always walked a half-step behind her, as if he was…watching over her. She missed him, like how he understood her so easily, and not just words, but every nod, a slight of hand, and gaze of an eye. Everything flowed so easily, so effortlessly, between them that she sometimes marveled how it became to be so.

She missed him, as the only man she trusted in her life, as the only man she deemed to be honorable and noble. She winced at the memory of Tom, and the hopeless mire of deceit she fell into. But after Tom's death, Ressler was there, in his silent presence and loyalty that assured her that she was now safe and protected. She missed him, as whenever she looked at him, she somehow felt hopeful, that she can start her life all over again. She felt as though Tom took away her innocence, everything that was lively and guileless. After Tom, she thought she had nothing left. But when she looked at Ressler, she couldn't deny it, or explain why, she felt this fresh rush of hope, of her heart beating again, of her heart…feeling again. And even a dim possibility of anything happening to him was...unthinkable, unbearable.

Reddington had not said a word about Ressler either, but he was easier to probe and bother. And Liz knew he would never lie to her, so she believed him when he told her Ressler had not contacted him. It drove her absolutely crazy that these two men would be so completely unaffected at having heard nothing from Ressler for the whole two months. It was incomprehensible.

It's been nearly three months when at last, Reddington brought up the subject. And of course, it was at the end of the evening when Liz was getting out of the car in front of her apartment.

"Lizzie, just to let you know…Donald called earlier today."

"What? What did he say? How is he?"

"Don't be alarmed, he's fine. He called to report that the mission is going smoothly. That's all."

"And you're telling me this, now? Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Damn it, Red…" She couldn't help but to shove him on his chest. She wasn't going to hide her anger, no way.

"Lizzie, he's fine. There's nothing much to tell. I didn't want to alarm you."

"Did he say anything else? Is he in danger? Does he need anything?"

"No, no, and no. For the last time, he's fine."

Still seething in anger at not having been told earlier, Liz got out of the car and slammed the door shut without the irritating pleasantries. She was in no mood to speak to Reddington any further, and perhaps she was even angry at Ressler, for what reasons she herself couldn't explain. Damn it, she got that this is an undercover operation, but…Ressler could've called her. Yes, he could've.

At the foot of her apartment building, just as Reddington's car roared out of sight, Liz took out of her cell phone and called her beloved techie. It was crazy, but she had to do it. She might regret it, and this may be the worst thing she could do to her career, but her heart just couldn't help it.

. . . . . . .

"Agent Keen, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Aram. Everything's fine, nothing to worry about. I just need a big favor from you."

"Sure, anything."

Liz had called Aram, and asked him to meet her back at the black site. After all, that's where all the equipments were located, and thankfully, the place was nearly deserted at this late hour.

"Aram, I need you to download all the data from this phone SIM card."

"Sure, anything specific you're looking for?"

"I'm not sure yet. Possibly a call from a pay phone number."

"That's not a problem. It'll take time, though, as I have to cross-reference all the numbers to the public phone database."

"Sure…thanks, Aram. I owe you, once again."

Aram took the SIM card from her hand, and plugged it into a small device that was hooked up to his laptop. After typing furiously for few moments, Aram sank back into his chair with an air of satisfied accomplishment.

"There, now the database is being cross-referenced. Any number that is from a pay phone should come up."

"Great…thanks, Aram."

"Agent Keen, if I may ask. I mean, I can't help to wonder, since you called me so late, and you seem…pretty urgent about it. Whose…whose phone is this, anyway?"

"It's Raymond Reddington's." She wasn't about to lie to him. Plus Aram was bound to figure it out sooner or later, if he hasn't already.

"That's…that's what I figured. Oh, he's not going to like that you took…his phone."

"Don't worry…I'll leave your name out of it." He was afraid of Reddington; that much was obvious. Aram may be her silent conspirator, but she was the criminal, and Reddington may have already figured out the keeper of his pilfered cell phone. But...she couldn't deal with that, not right now. She didn't even want to think about Reddington.

"And what is it you're looking for? Who might be calling from a pay phone?"

"That…remains to be seen."

The full green bar on the computer screen alerted that the cross-reference had completed. Aram scrutinized the screen and turned to Liz, "There are approximately fifty calls from various pay phones. He sure gets a lot of untraceable calls, I mean…Mr. Reddington is in the business…of…"

"Aram, any calls from today? Yesterday, even?" Liz was not feeling particularly patient at the moment, especially at Aram's usual ramblings.

He nodded, "Yes…there was one call earlier today."

"Where? Where is the call from?"

"It looks like…a pay phone in Philadelphia…in the neighborhood of Bridesburg."

"What time?"

"It looks to be early morning, close to five o'clock."

"Do you know the exact location of the pay phone?"

"Yes, it's in the cross section of…"

"Can you pull up the visuals? Street cameras? Anything?"

"Sure, I can try." Aram then switched to the main computer, and started his furious typing once again. Liz could only watch him in breathless anticipation, and already her heart was beating a thousand a minute. If she could just get a look at him…just a look…that was all she needed.

"So, you're looking for the culprit…I mean, who made the call, correct?" Aram's voice awakened Liz from her slight stupor.

"Yes."

Aram returned to the computer screen, and motioned Liz to come closer, "I think I have it, finally. It's bit grainy, and it's not the ideal time of the day for a clear shot, but it's the best I could do. I'll play the video for the ten minute duration of the call."

"Sounds good, Aram."

Liz and Aram watched the rather hazy grey film of the surroundings, still dark from the lingering night. The pay phone was slightly off-view to the side, and at the moment, not a soul stirred in sight. But Liz kept her eyes glued upon the spot, waiting and hoping, ignoring the cramping of her lungs that needed a heap of air breathed in.

Then in an instant, a ghost appeared. He was faint and grey, and appeared from the street on the other end of the pay phone. He was wearing a dark jacket with the collars up, and he walked gingerly and carefully. He reached the pay phone, and picked up the receiver, and talked for less than thirty seconds. He then placed the receiver back onto the phone, and gazed at the other end of the street, with his face toward the camera.

"Freeze that frame." Liz snapped at Aram, who jumped at her unexpected barking. "Can you zoom in?"

Aram zoomed in on the face, and Liz couldn't believe it. That face was all too familiar to her, no matter how grainy and blurry it was. But it took Aram a few more seconds, but soon enough, he grabbed her arm in a slow recognition.

"Is that…is that Agent Ressler?"

. . . . . . .

A/N: Thanks for reading this little story!