Eight weeks earlier…..

Elizabeth Keen pushed aside a pile of photographs in frustration as her sister, Jennifer, watched from the couch. Despite weeks of painstaking research and investigation, they weren't making any progress in uncovering the truth about the man who had seemingly spent nearly three decades posing as their deceased father.

"I think you need to consider asking someone from your team to help us," Jennifer said softly. "If we're going to get anywhere you need to interview people. Dig into our father's history. And Red's. And to do those things, you're going to need backup in the field that I can't provide. Plus, another pair of eyes on all this wouldn't hurt."

Liz glanced up at her sister and shook her head. "It's too risky. Involving any of them just makes it more likely that Reddington will find out that I know the truth." Reddington. It wasn't really his name but she continued to call him that for lack of a better option.

"It's too risky not to involve someone else, Liz," Jennifer pressed. "I can't be seen with you in public. Someone from your team can go places with you, be around Reddington, help you investigate while working your cases. There has to be one of them that you can trust with this."

Liz sat back on her heels. Deep down, she knew Jennifer was right. As much as she wanted to keep their investigation a secret, that simply wasn't practical. They weren't getting anywhere with the limited information they had and she was going to have to push things further, find people to interrogate. All of that came with substantial risk. She also knew there was only one realistic possibility.

"It would have to be Ressler," Liz said slowly. "I can't tell Aram because he'd be so nervous that he'd let something slip to Reddington at the first sign of trouble. I'm not sure if I can fully trust Samar. She has loyalties to Reddington that I don't fully understand. I trust Cooper but he's rarely in the field."

The corners of Jennifer's mouth twitched in amusement. "Ressler's the blond lunk who led the charge into the warehouse to rescue you, right?"

Liz glared at her. "He's not a lunk. He's smart and incredibly loyal. And he hunted Reddington for five years before Reddington walked back into my life. It's possible Ressler knows things about him that we don't."

"Well he sounds perfect as long as his loyalty is to you, not Reddington," Jennifer remarked. "Do you think he'll do it?"

Liz exhaled. "I won't know until I talk to him."


The next day, Liz watched Ressler as he worked, his head bent over a file folder. She felt anxious about approaching him. How would he react when he found out the secret she'd been keeping for weeks? She knew he'd feel betrayed that she had duped him in her escape from the Post Office. He'd forgiven worse but she knew the blow would sting and there was no telling whether he'd be hurt enough to refuse to help. Or worse yet, report her. Finally, she got up and crossed the room and sat on the edge of his desk. He glanced up, surprised, as she took a deep breath.

"I need to ask you a favor," she began hesitantly.

Ressler arched an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. "What's on your mind?" he asked warily.

"I can't tell you here," Liz replied in a low voice. "Could you meet me for a drink after work?"

Ressler frowned. "Are you ok, Liz? What's going on? Is it something to do with Reddington?"

"I'm fine. I'll explain everything tonight. You'll come?" Liz looked at him pleadingly.

Ressler sighed. "Ok, where?"

"The Grey Goose in Georgetown. 8:00. I'll be at a booth in the back. Thank you." Liz squeezed his shoulder lightly as she got up and headed out into the war room. Ressler watched her leave and shook his head. He was sure that whatever she was going to tell him absolutely had to do with Reddington and it wasn't going to be good.


Liz smiled as Ressler slid into the booth across from her at precisely 8:00. "Thanks for coming." She fingered her mojito nervously as Ressler signaled the waitress and ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

"So what's going on?" Ressler asked as the waitress disappeared.

"Before I tell you, I need you to promise me that this stays between us. You can't tell anyone- not Cooper, not Samar, no one. Will you do that?"

"This has to do with Reddington, doesn't it?" Ressler asked grimly.

Liz nodded. Her mouth felt dry despite the drink. "That's why I need you to give me your word that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to say. Please, Ressler. If you don't want to help me after you hear it I'll understand but I can't tell you any of it unless you promise."

Ressler pursed his lips and nodded slightly. "Alright."

Liz exhaled. Now came the hard part. She waited until the waitress brought Ressler's drink and left. "I haven't been completely honest with you," she began. "You remember Reddington's duffle bag?" Ressler nodded as Liz clutched her glass a little tighter. "I let you all believe that he got away with his secret intact. That wasn't actually the case."

Ressler blinked in surprise and leaned forward with his arms on the table. "So what was in the bag?"

"A skeleton. And a DNA report showing who the bones belonged to."

Ressler frowned. "Which was...?"

"Raymond Reddington. The real Raymond Reddington. My father." Liz sat back and watched a slow flush creep up Ressler's neck as he processed that revelation.

"So you're telling me that the guy we've been working with for the past five years isn't really Raymond Reddington? And he's not your father?" Ressler asked incredulously.

Liz nodded. "And before that, you were chasing a ghost. As far as I can tell, the real Raymond Reddington - my father - has been dead for nearly three decades."

Ressler took a generous gulp of his whiskey. "So who the hell is the guy we know as Reddington?"

Liz shook her head. "I don't know. That's what I want you to help me figure out. I want to know who this man is, why he impersonated my father all these years and what he wants with me."

Ressler licked his lips as he turned over her words. Liz braced herself for what she knew would be his next inevitable question.

"How did you find out?"

Liz hesitated. Telling him all of it could lead to him refusing to help. But she didn't really see a way around it. "From Sutton Ross. He told me when he made you leave the room during interrogation. And he showed me once we got out of the Post Office, before Reddington showed up."

She sat back and watched uneasily as the flush on Ressler's neck deepened as he connected the dots.

"Are you telling me that it was all a ruse? That you duped us into believing Ross had kidnapped you?" Ressler asked tightly.

Liz nodded nervously. "I'm sorry. I had no choice."

"Dammit Liz," Ressler growled as he banged his glass down hard on the table. "Don't give me that. You had a choice. There's always a choice. You chose to lie to us. To me." Ressler shook his head as a muscle in his jaw flickered and Liz could hear the hurt in his voice. He glared at her, eyes blazing.

"Do you have any idea what that was like, believing he had taken you? Believing you were really in danger?" Ressler spat. "And it turns out you were playing us the whole time." He folded his arms and looked away, unwilling to meet her eye.

Liz took a deep breath. She had to try to make him understand. "I was trying to get Reddington to admit the truth. I couldn't do that unless everyone's reactions were genuine. I know you're hurt and I'm truly sorry for that."

"Are you? Or are you just saying that because now you want my help. Good old Donnie, always there to do whatever you want, right?" Ressler replied bitterly.

Liz struggled to contain her own own emotions. "Look, I can't change what I did," she hissed. "And while I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm not sorry I did it. Tom died trying to tell me this secret. I need to understand why. Can't you understand that? Don't you want to know why you've spent the last decade of your life chasing and then abetting a criminal who isn't even who he claims to be? How many lives have been lost because of him, Ressler? Don't you want to know why?"

Liz watched the flush gradually recede from Ressler's face as he took another long sip of his whiskey and stared at the wall. She could see his inner struggle but she was prepared to wait him out. Eventually he turned and met her gaze evenly, his face expressionless.

"I'll help you on one condition."

Liz breathed a sigh of relief. "What's that?"

Ressler licked his lips. "From this moment on you have to be completely honest with me. No more secrets, no more lies. We work on this as partners and we trust each other or we don't do it at all and this conversation never happened." His blue eyes held hers firmly as he waited for her response.

"That's totally fair," Liz replied. She reached across the table and covered his hands with hers and squeezed them. "Thank you."

Ressler's face softened as he nodded and leaned back in his seat. He hoped he wouldn't regret the decision. "So tell me what you know so far."


Over the next hour, and another round of drinks, Liz filled him in on Jennifer and what they had learned, which wasn't much. When she finished, Ressler looked at her thoughtfully.

"It sounds like you've spent a lot of time trying to piece together the fire you remember and what happened that night."

Liz nodded. "But we're getting nowhere. I can't even be sure that the night of the fire is the same night Jennifer remembers her father - our father - disappearing and not coming home. Jennifer swears that he disappeared Christmas 1990 and that's what the official FBI files say. But other evidence points to the fire happening at least a year before."

"Do you think her memories were manipulated too?"

Liz shrugged. "We don't know. She seems to remember everything else very clearly. I guess it's possible."

Ressler was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. Finally, he leaned forward. "Maybe we need to start at the beginning. Start from the earliest point that we have information about Reddington and see if we can confirm it. If we go back far enough, maybe we'll figure out how our Red knew him and why he decided to become him."

"Jennifer wasn't much older than I was when he disappeared so she doesn't remember him talking about his early life or his parents. We're not even sure where he grew up. The Naval Academy is the first place that we know that he went for sure," Liz replied.

"So how about this weekend we take a trip to Annapolis and visit the Academy and see what we can find out? It might be better to go on a weekday but unless you can come up with an excuse for Cooper, I think we're gonna have to do this on our own time," Ressler offered.

Liz nodded slowly. His suggestion made sense. They'd start from the beginning and try to confirm what they could. She lifted her glass. "Annapolis it is. Here's to finding the truth."

"Here's to finding the truth together," Ressler agreed as he clinked his glass against hers.