AN - Angst. It was bound to happen eventually, right? Don't hate me.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: all borrowed, nothing gained
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In the interest of minimizing communication with the outside world, prior to their departure, Red had instructed Samar not to contact him unnecessarily. After three days with no update, however, he and Liz began to worry. They should have heard SOMETHING by now... right?
On the fourth day, while enjoying a pleasant lunch outside on the back deck, she finally asked, "Have you heard anything from the taskforce yet?"
It was an honest question. For all she knew, he may have learned something troubling and then took it upon himself to shield her from it. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. In fact, Liz considered it part of his modus operandi for handling her, and she wasn't wrong about that.
How unfortunate, with all of the varied tastes and scents conjured by his voice, that none could distinguish a truth from a lie. Well... for all she knew, anyway. Perhaps a lie would be different. She seldom doubts that he wouldn't lie to her, but after days with her entire world limited to a vacuum of only Red, her agile mind had begun to root around in dangerous places. It was inevitable, really.
He gently blotted the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Nothing yet."
"Isn't that a little strange? We wouldn't even know for sure that they collared Tom if Dembe hadn't told us."
"Aren't you glad that he stayed behind, then?" He deflected.
"Glad? I'd rather he be here."
For more than one reason, in fact. After Red implored her to live with them, practically couch surfing in their safehouses, she had continued to pay for the motel room. In hindsight, she found that decision regrettable, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. She needed a backup - a place to go in case Red drove her mad, and he very nearly did. Unfortunately, she hadn't anticipated her sudden placement on her employer's Most Wanted list. Consequently, the task of checking out of her motel room fell squarely upon Dembe's shoulders.
She and Red were already high in the sky when his right-hand man fetched her belongings. He probably wouldn't rifle through them on his own accord, but on Red's? He absolutely would. If so, then her secret is no longer a secret. She didn't even need that stupid notebook anymore, anyway. What a waste. The trouble was, she couldn't even bring it up without raising suspicion.
It weighed on her heavily.
"I expressly instructed Agent Navabi to minimize contact with us. Every phonecall is a traceable vulnerability, if only miniscule. No news is good news, Lizzie."
"Don't get me wrong. I understand your logic, and I appreciate everything you've done to help me out here, but come on. For all we know, they could have made her as our accomplice. I think we should call her."
"If she's been made, then calling is the worst possible thing that we could do."
"I can't stand not knowing."
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her without blinking. "Would I be correct to assume that if I refuse, you'll simply wait until you're alone and then call her anyway?"
"Most likely." She pursed her lips, frustrated that he knew her so well.
Idly tapping his phone on the tabletop, he replied, "Then I suppose that I have no choice."
He dialed Samar and switched it over to speaker phone, hoping that the small act of voluntary transparency would allay some of Liz's worry.
She answered on the third ring. "Reddington, what do you need?"
"An update on the taskforce's little manhunt, please, if you have one."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Any updates? Do you all have any leads?"
"Oh." She chuckled. "Are you feeling all right?"
Liz raised an eyebrow. He sounded just fine to her.
"Quite. So?"
"No double entendres? No sexual innuendos, either veiled or overt?"
Of course, Red is an enormously flirty gutterpunk. Liz has always known that, but to the extent that a greeting without innuendo is grounds for concern? She dropped one hand to her side so that he wouldn't see her balling it into a fist.
"Agent Navabi, do you have anything new or not?" Annoyance had crept into his voice.
"My apologies. I'm just a little surprised that you'd call after midnight." She laughed again, and then added, "Oh, I see what's going on here. You're actually getting laid now, aren't you?"
What the hell? Was phone sex part of their weird little arrangement? Why else would she say that?
"I take it that the taskforce still has nothing, then. From now on, if you could reach out to us every three days, Elizabeth and I would appreciate it."
"So it's Liz, then? Took you long enough..."
And as pissed off as she was in the moment, part of her gained a measure of satisfaction from knowing that she wasn't the only one with whom Red held multiple simultaneous conversations on separate subjects.
He huffed a booming laugh, as if Samar's assumption was painfully absurd. "You must be joking."
Liz abruptly pushed back her chair and stood up. She bit out her reply through gritted teeth. "Don't be fatuous, Agent Navabi." Without looking back, she made her way towards the door, leaving the rest of her lunch on the table.
"Liz... I didn't realize that you were on the line."
But she was already gone.
Red picked up the phone and turned off the speaker. "She just stepped out." He knew that he was in trouble, but he wasn't entirely sure why. He was just glad that Liz had somewhere safe to stew.
"Sorry... Is she mad?" Red ignored the question, and she quickly got the point. "Well, I'm not sure if this qualifies as an update or not. I had planned on keeping it to myself until it's confirmed one way or the other."
"I'm listening."
"Tom is trying to wrangle himself an immunity deal, in exchange for helping the taskforce track you down."
"Well, he won't get it, will he? He doesn't know where we are. He doesn't know anything."
"He dropped a few pieces of information that he shouldn't have known, and he claims to have more. Most importantly, he knows about Ressler's substance abuse issues, and he's starting to crack under the pressure. This wouldn't even be on the table if Cooper was still in."
"Is he still using?"
"Short of testing him, I can't be sure, but it's possible."
"Has Agent Mojtabai gone through his laptop yet?"
"No. Cooper has it, and he's keeping his distance. He won't return our calls."
"That's probably for the best, considering what Tom knows about you. Without that laptop, he has no proof. The only verifiable claim that he can make is about Agent Ressler's drug abuse, and only if he's still using. If he's really rattled, then I'd bet that he is."
"Hm. You're probably right."
"Therefore, he has two choices. He can either get clean or get out. Do you understand what I'm telling you? Whatever it takes to get him out of the taskforce."
Thank goodness Lizzie wasn't listening to this part of the conversation. She'd want to protect her partner, but the man isn't worth saving if he's seriously considering teaming up with Tom Keen.
"I do, but we might be missing a piece of this puzzle."
"You think?"
"The business of Tom's old Nazi gang. We need to know how Connolly called them off. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one supplying Ressler with his oxys."
"That sounds a little too convenient, but it's possible. Maybe you should have that laptop, then. I'll try to get in touch with Harold."
He hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. After downing the last of his scotch in a single gulp, he cleared the table and headed inside to wash their dishes.
Ordinarily, he would be annoyed that Liz had stormed off and left a mess, but under the circumstances, he appreciated the opportunity to ponder what she may have been thinking. Was she mad that he didn't admit to sleeping with her? And if so, why? Why on earth should Samar be privy to that information?
His Lizzie would never know just how hard he works to understand her inner machinations. He just wants to know her better, infinitely better. Every day, he's unsatisfied by his perceived failure at the task.
He trudged upstairs and knocked on her door, only to be met with radio silence. He knocked again. "Lizzie, may I come in?" But still, nothing. Tentatively, he twisted the doorknob, just to see if it was locked. It wasn't. "Lizzie, since you won't answer, I'm coming in."
He opened the door and felt the air suddenly sucked from his lungs, leaving them as bereft and empty as the room itself. Within a handful of seconds, he checked the bathroom and the closet. Since both her gun and cell phone were still sitting on the nightstand, it seemed unlikely that she'd left the house. He quickly left her room so that he could go check the others.
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Liz needed some time alone, and knowing Red, since she'd stormed off, he'd be on her heels in a matter of minutes. Seeking to avoid him, rather than going up to her room, she kept moving forward, through the kitchen, the living room, and then back outside again through the front door. The previous day, Red had pointed out a trail that lead to a fresh water lagoon with a waterfall. At the time, she wasn't in the mood to check it out, but she could really use a new, beautiful view now. She found the path easily and kept her ears peeled for the sound of rushing water, but heard nothing over the ambient rainforest chatter and its ever-present taste of lemonade and grapefruit.
As she trudged along, leaves and twigs and crackling underfoot, she thought back to their conversation on the bench in DC. She still remembered his exact words. "For the record, my involvement with her is strictly professional, never carnal." That bastard. Even if he had somehow convinced himself that phone sex isn't carnal, it is in no way professional.
She would have forgiven him. She would have been jealous and upset, of course, but she would have forgiven him eventually, just the same... But he lied.
He lied, and now she knows that his lies have no distinct scent or taste of their own. What a shame.
In spite of her sour mood, when she finally picked up on the sound of the waterfall, her cheeks split into an ear-to-ear grin as she quickened her pace and it came into view. She took off her sandals and padded across the smooth rocks that lined the perimeter. Their coolness bore a striking contrast against the heated jungle air, but it was nothing compared to the icy blue water. Liz yelped when her toes skimmed the surface. More than surprising, it was actually uncomfortable, and she welcomed the short-lived distraction provided. She bent down to splash some of the cold water on her face, and then stepped back, onto the rocks again.
The only thing worse than Red's lie about Samar was the humor that he seemed to have found in the idea of her own relationship with him... because no, it wasn't really amusement. It was embarassment, poorly covered and deflected by humor.
But why?
Is it because she really is, in fact, an overly-elaborate means to an end? His living marionette? A creature so far below him that to insert himself within her is perceived as an act worthy of shame? This new revelation completely reframed her perspective of his reluctance during their first time. It had nothing to do with their professional future, or her mental state. "As many things as I'm willing to be for you, a 'regret' is not one of them," he said. He had taken his own truth and spun it around. How could she have been so blind?
Liz was suddenly pulled from her heart-crushed daze by the rhymthic crunching of leaves as something large approached her from behind. Startled, she spun around and came face-to-face with an elephant, standing a short twenty feet away. She screamed and quickly clamped a palm over her mouth to smother the sound. Her heart pounded in her ears as she tried to recall what Red had told her to do in such a situation, but in her panic, nothing came to mind. She reached for her gun, but came up empty.
The elephant stomped his foot once and repeatedly shook his head back and forth, dragging his trunk across the ground in front of him. As he began to move forward again, drawing nearer, she matched his steps, moving unsteadily backwards to maintain the space between them.
On the fifth step, she was back in the water. On the sixth, she slipped and fell backwards, letting out a small yelp. Time seemed to slow until her head struck a log with a sickening crack. The world faded to black as she sank below the water's surface.
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After checking the rest of the house, panic swelled in Red's throat. He called his groundskeeper, Hastings, and asked him to search for Liz at the beach. Then, he took off towards the lagoon.
It was only a lark, since she'd never gone before, but if she wanted to get away from him that badly, she'd try to find a place where she wouldn't be found. At least, that was his best guess.
Like so many of her rash decisions, this one was dangerous. During the hottest afternoon hours, the lagoon becomes a hotspot for the wildlife that she so fears.
He moved as quickly as he could, lungs burning from both the stifling humidity and his gunshot wound, reminding him of his age. When he heard her scream, he feebly tried to call out to her, but his breath was too short. Consumed by pain and fear, he did the only thing that he could - continue moving forward.
When at last, the lagoon came into view, he saw only an elephant standing in the shallows, splashing at the water with its trunk. Where was she? Fingernails digging half-moons into his palms, his jaw dropped. "Lizzie!"