Chapter Two.

She came to in a room she didn't recognize, her head aching and her vision slow to focus. Elizabeth Phelps sat up carefully, finding the blood matted in her dark hair the most likely cause of her building headache. She frowned, taking in her surroundings. She was in a small room, the only Windows high enough up that it would be very difficult to reach them. It was dirty, like no one had used the room in some time, and the empty shelves to the side led her to think it might have once been a storage room of some kind. Well, it was again. They were just storing her.

Carefully she stood, testing her balance and stretching limbs to make sure she hadn't missed any injuries. Her mind was working through a fog, but slowly the pieces of what had happened came together. She had gotten home, taken Hudson out, called Jacob and found out that the day had gone to hell and he'd explain more when he got home, and then…. Then things got spotty. The door had been forced open. She hadn't heard it, but she'd noticed it when passing by the door. A cloth had been pressed against her nose and mouth, a sickly sweet smell making her head swim before she had reared back, her elbow catching her attacker in the ribs and her head connecting hard with his nose. He had tried to make a run for it to the back door, but he'd caught her, using the momentum to swing her around and she had tripped over one of the chairs and that was the last thing she remembered. She must have hit her head on the table.

The door to her cell opened and Liz tensed, but the sight of her captor's blackened eyes and broken nose nearly brought a smile to her face. He smirked at her. "Good to see you awake, Mrs Phelps. I just talked to your husband. He seemed very concerned."

Concerned was likely an understatement, if Liz knew the man she'd married at all. Angry, worried, and so focused on her that he wouldn't bother with any of the dangers that surrounded him. She just hoped Don would be able to talk him down before he rushed after her himself. She didn't want to be the reason he got hurt. That had never been what she wanted.

"I hear he's clever. He'll either find a way to distract his team or he'll find himself a widower. You may have a lot of spunk, but it's not going to save you."

He reached forward, grabbing Liz by the chin and her eyes turned cold. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into," she told him, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm not the one dying tonight."

"Agent Phelps, you can't just-"

Jacob blew past the sputtering agent. Ressler hadn't met him at the door, so he knew he had a precious few minutes before someone alerted the lead agent he was here and Ressler put a stop to what was about to happen. "Open it up," he barked, motioning at the box that Reddington was sitting in.

The Concierge of Crime perked up, turning his piercing gaze on the younger man as the door slid open. "Agent Phelps, to what do I owe this-"

"You son of a bitch, what has Isaacs done with her?" Jacob hissed, his hands gripping Reddington's vest and he would have hauled him out of the chair if he hadn't been chained to it.

Reddington blinked, actually looking surprised. "She? She who?"

"Jacob!" Ressler shouted from behind him and all of a sudden he was being hauled out of the box. "Hey, you can't just-"

"She's gone, Ress! That bastard broke into our home and took her. Reddington-"

"Has been here the entire time. There's no way he could have set this up."

"Phelps," Reddington snapped, all of his usual mockery put aside and his voice deadly serious. "Calm down. What happened?"

"My wife. Your people-"

"Isaacs has Elizabeth?"

The way Reddington said her name caused a chill to settle in him and Jacob managed a small nod, not trusting his own voice in the wake of it.

"We're fine. Everything is fine," Ressler assured a guard. "Jake, come on. We're going to turn the city upside down to find her. He's not going to hurt Liz."

"I can't take a chance," Jacob managed.

"Of course you can't, and you won't." Both men turned to the source of the words. "Isaacs isn't my man and I certainly didn't send him after your wife, but I can help you save her. You don't need to trust me, but you will need to listen to me. How long has it been since she was taken?"

Jacob glanced at the time. "I talked to her around eight when I left. Got home around nine and there was a struggle. Isaacs called and I came straight here. It's nine thirty."

"Hell, Jake," Ressler breathed.

"Demands?"

"That we let him go. We're not."

"I should say not. Victor has dug his own grave on this one. If you wouldn't mind letting me out of this box, we have work to do." His gaze fell on Jacob directly. "Your wife's life depends on it."

Jacob set his jaw, mind buzzing with the pros and cons and everything in between. He glanced at Ressler. It was technically his call if Cooper wasn't on site, and the fact that the man wasn't breathing down his neck for the stunt he pulled when he entered meant he likely wasn't.

Ressler's lips thinned out into a grimace. "Leave the cuffs on him, but get him up. We're all hands on deck to find Elizabeth Phelps." He turned towards Jacob and the younger man saw a pity in his eyes that he hated. "We'll find her."

"I know. I'm going in when we do."

"Jake-"

"I'm either going in with the FBI or I'll go in alone. Your call."

He knew he was putting Ressler in a dangerous position. The man was like a walking rule book for the bureau. His nickname during their time at the academy had been Boy Scout and nearly a decade later it still stuck for a reason. It took a hell of a lot for him to colour outside the lines, but just once, Jacob needed him to put aside that rigidness just for a little while. Just long enough to get Liz home safely. "I'll take the blame when it's done," he said quietly.

Ressler snorted. "We need a timeline. Every second from the time you stepped in to after he called. What did you notice?"

Jacob nodded, relaying everything he'd seen. A team would be sent to his home to tear it apart, their lives turned upside down in hopes of finding a way to save his wife. This. This was why he'd gotten out of the field. There were just too many risks involved, and he should have known better than to put himself in the position for those risks to hurt someone innocent like Liz. He just wish the reminder hadn't come quite so harshly.

She wasn't sure how many hours had passed. They'd left her mostly alone after the initial threat, the only sounds she heard the occasional footsteps. Three distinct sets, she thought. One belonged to the man that had taken her, so likely two hired thugs with him.

The sun was filtering into the windows by the time that the door opened again, revealing one of her captor's guards, followed closely by the second. They both looked entirely irritated. "Your husband and his people are searching Mr Isaac's accounts," the larger one said, his voice gruff. "The FBI was told to stand down. Mr Isaac's demands are non-negotiable."

Liz didn't answer him, instead letting her gaze follow back into the hall behind them. All she needed to do was get around them and she was home free.

"It's only a matter of time before they track this place down, but they're going to find you in pieces, sweetheart," the second said, leering at her and he pulled a knife open. Her expression glossed over, almost as if she were bored beyond reason by the announcement that they were there to kill her.

"Here's the thing," Liz said calmly, running a hand through her dark hair to push it out of her face, "if you're going to make a threat, you sure as hell better be able to deliver."

They didn't see her move, in all likelihood, much less realize what was happening. She sidestepped the first swipe of the knife, taking the second man's gun that he had halfway out of the holster. She slammed it around, hitting the first man hard with the barrel of it across the face, sending him stumbling, and followed through to put two bullets in the man she'd originally stolen it from. She shifted her stance, blue eyes cold and calculating as her gaze leveled on the first man, his own expression confused. "No one said anything about you being a fed too," he managed and Liz snorted, the sound coming out almost as a laugh.

"That's because I'm not," she told him simply and he was dead before he hit the ground.

She didn't waste any time as she darted out the door and into the hallway. She was in a warehouse of some kind, old and abandoned from the looks of it. She didn't wait long to try to gain her bearings, but took off down the hall, gun clutched in her hand. Issacs was still out there and he was the one she had to worry about. Well, that and explaining to Jacob how she'd gotten away. Funny, the biggest lies always seemed to come the easiest for her. She thought it was because people were inclined to think no one would be stupid enough to try to pull something like that. She'd come up with something by the time the FBI found her.

A bullet ricocheted off the ground at her feet and she whipped around, gun aimed. No one was there, but she took a hard hit to the back that made her stumble forward, barely catching herself before she fell all the way to the ground. When she got turned around she saw Isaacs standing there, a smug look on his face. "You thought you could get out of here after all this trouble? You're going to get to be their lesson."

"You people and your threats you can't live up to," she growled as she just barely missed with the next shot. She frowned, feeling the weight of the gun differ just a little, and the next shot clicked, signalling an empty magazine. That was fine. She wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty.

His own loaded gun was the biggest threat and she eliminated it quickly, sending it skidding across the room and out of both of their reaches. She blocked a punch, landed a kick, and ducked under another rough blow, only to be caught on the other side and sent stumbling around. He was bigger than her, but she'd fought bigger. She'd taken down meaner.

Liz dropped to the ground, sliding across the dirty floor and taking his legs out from under him by the shins. His yelp was cut off as her foot slammed into his jaw and his head snapped to the side. He must have been seeing stars for a moment with the way he sat there, but he rolled over and managed a decent blow that split her lip.

They parted back, Liz on her toes and ready for the next round. She'd finish it. She had to.

"Does he know?" Isaacs asked, and the question caught her a little off guard. His smile broadened just a little and she saw blood on his teeth. "Does your husband know you're not what you pretend to be?"

"No," she said softly. "And he won't."

She would have finished it then, but the sound of a door down the hall being flung open, followed by a shout of "FBI!" took her attention away for a split second. It was enough to give him two steps towards the exit and for her to know that if she followed him it would destroy everything. She had to let him go and she had to play the part. Don Ressler would be leading the team in, if for no other reason than to keep Jacob from doing it. She had to make this believable.

So Elizabeth Phelps tucked herself away in a corner and the tears built in her eyes as her entire body shook, the perfect example of a woman terrified of what she'd just seen.

He hadn't slept at all. Even if he'd had time, he knew he wouldn't have been able to drift off, not until she was home and safe. Jacob and Ressler had both been working around the clock following leads, Reddington surprisingly cooperative. The man had shaved hours of search time off and had led them almost immediately to Isaacs' banker who had intimate knowledge of his movements. That had led them to what looked like an abandoned warehouse that they hoped was the right location.

Jacob braced himself as they readied the ram. His gun was clutched in his hand - it was surprising how after two years of desk duty how easily it still fit - and he wore a vest with FBI written in large, bold letters across it. He'd joked over the years that it was a please aim here sign for all the people trying to kill them. Well, better that than the head, he supposed.

"Ready when you are, sir," one of the men up front called and Ressler gave the the signal.

The door to the warehouse went down in one swift hit, clammering so badly that it made Jacob's ears ring. He didn't flinch though, just followed in, gun raised, and was a little disappointed that they were met with silence on the other side. His gaze swept the empty room as the other agents fanned out and he shot Ressler a look. "We're too late," he murmured. "They're already gone. They moved her."

Ressler opened his mouth and closed it. Jacob felt his shoulders drop and his eyes slipped closed. He'd lost her. They had been so close and he'd lost her.

"Agent Ressler, they've found someone in the back," an agent called from a hallway opening. "A lady. About thirty or so, just-"

Jacob didn't hear the rest. He was in full sprint past his friend and past the agent speaking, down the hall, and he nearly ran over one young FBI agent who was standing at the end of it. Liz was being checked over my another agent, but when he entered she turned wide blue eyes on him and he forgot to breathe for a moment. He wasn't sure how she moved so fast, but somehow she was in his arms and he had her pulled as close as he could, fingers tangled in her hair and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "It's okay, Lizzie," he promised as she clung to him, her arms wrapped around his middle so tightly that if he hadn't had the vest on it might have actually hurt. "It's okay, babe. I have you. I have you."

"You shouldn't be here," his wife sniffed and that pulled a short chuckle from him.

"I had to. I had to get you home. Nothing else mattered."

Liz tightened her hold on him before leaning back and then up, one hand coming to the side of his face as she tipped up on her toes to kiss him. It was like the world went strangely silent around them, all the usual ruckus of a finished operation pushed to the side for the goal that had been so entirely personal.

The sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat at the doorway caused them to break and Jacob turned to see Ressler holstering his weapon, giving him a slightly uncomfortable look. "Warehouse is clear. We've got two dead men in a back room, but no sign of Isaacs. You okay, Liz?"

The tears had already stopped and as he pressed one last kiss to her forehead he could feel that she'd already stopped shaking. Jacob had known a wide range of people over the years, but Elizabeth Phelps might have been the strongest one he knew. She was a professor of psychology. This was the last thing that she should have had to worry about, yet she was already gathering herself together in the aftermath. He never ceased to be amazed.

"I think so," she answered Ressler's question and pulled away from Jacob just a little, though her hand slipped down into his and held on there. "Who's Isaacs? Is he the man that took me?"

"We'll get him, Lizzie," Jacob promised softly.

"Who is he?"

Both men remained silent and Jacob squeezed her hand. "Part of a case that we can't talk about."

She snorted. "I guess I'm part of the same case now."

"After the medics check her over she'll need to come in for a statement," Ressler said. "I'll hold Cooper off as long as I can, but-"

"Oh I know," Jacob chuckled mirthlessly. "Believe me I know."

"You weren't supposed to come, were you?" Liz asked and her husband offered her a lopsided smile.

"Hmm?"

She rolled her eyes and swatted him on the arm.

His smile didn't fade as he walked with her outside to the waiting ambulance, not missing the hurried messenger that accosted Ressler on their way out. "Be right back," he promised and stepped away, not liking the look on his former partner's face. "What happened?"

"Reddington slipped his detail."

"What? He had-"

"I know how many men he had on him," Ressler snapped. "Listen, go with Liz and-"

Jacob frowned deeply. "I told you I'd take the heat for this. It's on me," he bit out, the words forced. If it were anyone else he would have been happy to take the out, but his loyalty was hard-earned and Ressler had managed that years ago. The man drove him crazy half the time, but he was a good man, better than Jacob would ever know how to be, and he didn't deserve to have his career tanked because he couldn't tell a friend not to go in and save his wife. "I'll have a protective detail bring her by when they clear her and I can take her home from there. You know, after Cooper tears me a new one."

Ressler looked like he might try for one more protest, but stopped, and offered him a half smile. "Good working with you again, pal," he said instead. "Didn't realize just how much I missed it."

"Just like old times," Jacob answered, though they both knew it wouldn't last. He'd be lucky if he were just benched after this stunt.

"Are you sure it's her? It's been years since we've had a lead."

Raymond Reddington pulled in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "It's her. I would stake my life on it," he answered as the car pulled to a stop. "This is it?"

Mr Grey killed the engine. "Yes sir. They said they would deliver him here."

"Excellent," Reddington said as he opened the car door and unfolded himself. They were on the outskirts of the city, parked just next to an old building. The door opened and a man shoved another out into the open, sending him stumbling to the broken asphalt at their feet. "Victor Isaacs, it's been some time," the Concierge of Crime greeted with a smile before turning his attention to what had turned out to be an incredibly reliable bounty hunter. "Payment has been wired to your account with a bonus for your speed. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr Reddington," the man said. "Gotta warn ya, he's a handful."

"I'm sure he is."

Reddington watched as the bounty hunter nodded and scuffled away, leaving he and Isaacs alone with Grey standing by the car. The deceptive smile returned to his thin lips and he strode forward. Isaacs looked up at him, the gag making it impossible to do more than grumble worriedly at him. Reddington pulled it from his mouth.

Isaacs coughed and swallowed hard. "What is all of this, Reddington?"

"You took a young woman very recently. A federal agent's wife. Elizabeth Phelps."

Red watched as the irritated expression the professional kidnapped wore melted into fear. "Phelps? That woman is nuts. She was suppose to be an easy grab to teach her husband a lesson. I've never seen anyone move like that."

"Like what?" Reddington asked cautiously.

"She was fast. Trained. Very well trained. Who the hell is she?"

Reddington studied him for a moment before reaching around and pulling his gun from its holster. "She is no longer your concern."

The shot went off and Isaacs fell dead. Red turned as Mr Grey stepped forward. "Mr Kaplan is already on her way." He paused, his pale eyes moving to look at the dead body. "What do you think has happened to her in the years she's been missing?"

A sigh escaped the older man. "I don't know, but I will find out."

"We'll continue with the plan, sir? The task force?"

"Yes. I need to get close, and her husband is, regretfully, my best way of doing that."

Grey's expression remained neutral. "He may refuse to work with you after what happened in Vienna."

"Well I'll just have to make sure he doesn't have a choice, won't I?" Reddington asked with a forced smile and climbed into the backseat of the car. "I don't like it any better than he will, but Elizabeth's safety is my priority. If that means that I have to work with her husband, her life is worth that price."

"Then we're returning to the FBI?"

"Yes. It's time to get this started. Dembe is stateside, isn't he?"

"He is."

"Good, once you drop me off, have him on standby. I'll give them a list of names they can choose from and I imagine his will be one of the two they'll pull. Maybe I'll get lucky and the other will be Luli." He hummed softly to himself at the thought, leaning back in his seat. Slowly, the amusement died away as the started back in to the city and towards the black site. The last person he wanted to work with was Special Agent Jacob Phelps - followed closely by Donald Ressler, who would also be involved in all of this, but he'd known that as well - and now he would be working with both. It had been a possibility. He had known that from the moment Elizabeth had resurfaced on his radar, after years of searching without a decent lead, as the wife of one of the men that had been tasked to bring him into the US government dead or alive. The universe certainly seemed to have a sense of humour. That was fine. Raymond Reddington hadn't gotten to where he was by being inflexible.

TBC

Notes: So, Liz is a badass spy, Red has been looking for her, and who would have thought Jacob would have been the one in the dark? Poor guy. If you're enjoying the Tessler bromance, I'd recommend popping over to SaraBeth1's account and reading her newest story (GnomeGate). It will have you laughing and wanting to give them both a huge hug.

Please let me know what you're thinking of this! I'm enjoying writing it, but I really would love to hear your feedback on it. Are you liking the twists and turns so far, the pacing? Seriously, feedback helps me a lot as a writer and lets me know what you, as the reader, are enjoying :)

Next time - Cooper gives Jacob an ultimatum and the Phelps household receives an interesting (and unwanted) visitor.