Tom opened his lunch box and found himself gazing into the face of a blue hippo. He had brought the toy to school yesterday, put it on his desk and as Liz has predicted, his students had loved it. When he'd told them it had been a gift from Liz, they told him he had "THE BEST WIFE EVER". Tom disagreed. HE didn't have "the best wife ever", Tom Keen did. If Raymond Reddington had his way, he wouldn't be borrowing Tom Keen's life for much longer. The fedora-wearing bastard had sent the police after him, just like he'd sent the FBI, and just like he'd sent Zamani. Tom had never hated anyone the way he hated that man.
Uncle Flippo's eyes seemed to watch Tom with unspoken reproach as he grabbed his sandwich and juice. He'd spent the morning sanitizing the watch post, getting rid of any trace evidence from the murders he'd committed. Perhaps it was paranoia, but Liz's vow last night, along with that nightmare had spooked him. He still couldn't shake the pit in his stomach and blue hippo wasn't helping matters. Tom imagined a thousand silent accusations being hurled at him by the inanimate piece of plastic, 'This isn't the place for me. I don't belong here. I don't belong to YOU.' Tom snatched the toy out of his lunchbox and hurled it into the trash. He had more important things to worry about than Uncle Flippo. Killing Raymond Reddington for example.
Tom finished eating and cleared away the rest of lunch before setting his guns out on the table. Cleaning weapons had always been a stress relieving activity for him and he needed a clear head. If he was going to kill the concierge of crime it was going to take some serious planning. Not only would he be attempting to do something that no one had been able to do for the past twenty years, but he had to do it without Berlin finding out.
Reddington was constantly on the move. Even if Tom did managed to get a bead on his location, he couldn't just follow him around hoping an opportunity presented itself. He'd need to draw Reddington out into the open and to do that he'd have to use Liz. Use Liz. Even in his head he hated the sound of it.
The practical part of his brain told him it was the only play to make. Reddington didn't have an abundance of vulnerabilities that Tom could exploit. Liz was the only option. Any pain he caused her in paled in comparison to what he was saving her from. Reddington was a threat to Liz's safety. He had sent Liz after countless dangerous criminals and put her it situations she had no business being in. His mere presence in her life made her a target for all of his enemies, Berlin included. Tom would have to make the choice: Could he hurt Liz a little to protect her from a lot?
Tom's phone rang, as if he'd summoned Liz with his thoughts.
"Hey." Was this the check-in call Liz had promised him? Had she found something?
"You have a second?" For this call he had all the time in the world.
"Yeah. What's up?" Had Reddington been up to more of his mind games?
"I'm following up some leads on Jolene's case and I came across an address." Fantastic, Jolene had left yet another loose end. Why had Berlin sent someone so criminally incompetent?
"What's the address?" What mess was he going to have to clean up this time?
"1896 La Vista Street." Oh shit. How had she found him? He turned to the monitors and to his horror saw Liz standing 100 yards from the warehouse's door.
"I've never heard of it." Liz must have traced the phone he'd forced Jolene to make. Damn it.
"It's not her home address. Maybe it's her fiancee's? I'm going to check it out." She was right outside. He needed to move. Now.
"I think you're cutting out. Liz can you hear me?" Tom disconnected the call, raced over to his board, and started ripping the papers down. His notes were everywhere and if Liz recognized his handwriting then that was it. He threw him in the metal tub. There was a knock at the door.
He poured on the accelerant and shoved the box of matches into his pocket. Grabbing the bin, Tom raced out in to the back alley. Blood pumped in his ears as a fumbled with the box. She was going to be there any second! He struck his first match too hard against the side. It snapped in two. He willed himself to be calm. He drew another match out of the carton. This time was a success.
He didn't have enough time to make it down the alley, so he move to hide behind the hanging tarps. Tom's heart pounded in his chest as he listened for Liz's footsteps. She moved slowly deliberately toward his hiding place. He needed to move in perfect synchronization if he wanted to avoid detection. 1, 2, 3. He moved to the other side of the tarp just as Liz rounded the corner. If he could just make it to behind the door, he would be home free.
Her footsteps echoed past him and in his relief he leaned ever so slightly on the door. The resulting creak might as well have been a flare gun. It was over. Liz would arrest him, Berlin would send a new agent, Reddington would continue to jeopardize Liz's life on a weekly basis, all because of one squeaky door.
No. He wasn't giving up that easily. He would get out of this. If Liz was going to be safe, she could not find out about him. His earlier dilemma returned to him. Could he hurt her a little to protect her from a lot? Could he be cruel to be kind?
Tom braced himself and then slammed the heavy door into Liz. Before she could recover he raced over and followed up with a hard punch to the face. Then he ran. Tom ran like he'd never run before, focusing on avoiding all surveillance cameras, and trying to block the memory of striking his wife.
He needed to call this in. Tom found a payphone and dialed Berlin's front.
"Phantom Finance. How may I direct your call?" "Phantom Finance". Honestly, they couldn't pick something a little less shell company-esque?
"I'm having a problem with my account, number Delta Sierra 451." More like "problems". To date he'd lost his official go-box, his safe house, his surveillance equipment, and his weapons. Also the police were investigating a murder he had committed.
"Line secure. Proceed." Nothing like the warm, caring voice of his handler to brighten his mood.
"Watch post is comprised. Bona fides in question. Tell Berlin I was forced to liquidate." Tom hung up and stalked off down the street. Berlin was not going to be pleased. Actually no, they hadn't be "pleased" when he'd failed to show up for his meet four months ago. Now they were probably "deeply suspicious".
He'd spun Jolene's death as her mistake and not his, and they seemed to have accepted it, but at this point how was he supposed to convince them he was still in control? The time may have come to use the key he'd hidden in Ike's base all those months ago. Of course that would mean telling Liz. It would mean explaining the truth about himself and all the lies he'd told her. It would mean breaking her heart.
No, it was too soon for that. He'd watch and wait. At the first sign things were shifting, he'd tell her. Just not now, not yet. He wanted a few more dinners, a few more kisses, and a few more nights sleeping next to the woman he loved. He wanted a little more time to be Tom Keen. He wanted a little more time to be happy.
