Sorry for the delay everyone. It's been a hectic few weeks! :) Hope everyone who had finals/midterms etc is doing ok!
/Location: New York: Below Ground
40°42'50.1"N 73°59'53.9"W
0715 EDT
14 May 15/
There was a hollow feeling growing in Root's stomach. "What are you talking about John?" Root asked, the blanket around her shoulders fell to the floor silently and she shivered. She felt stuck in place, staring as Reese held Shaw against the side of the train car, her feet dangling almost a foot off the ground. She was vaguely aware that Harold was lurking behind her by his desk, quietly watching the entire exchange.
Reese kept his grip on Shaw, refusing to avert his eyes, "I tracked the route Fusco took out of town with Carl Elias. He knew what he was doing, it was all backroads, to avoid crowds and cameras. But they stopped for gas in this little town in the middle of the night. Quarter mile past the gas station there was an accident. One car, two bodies. Just a couple out of towners passing through. No one thought anything of it. But I checked the cameras," Reese shook his head, a menacing smile on his lips, "It wasn't an accident. Shaw executed Carl Elias. And his business partner. And Fusco."
Root turned to Shaw slowly, watching Shaw's jaw clench and her eyes darken. "That's not possible," Root said quietly.
Reese whipped his head around to her angrily. "It's all on tape Root," he growled before turning back to Shaw, "Did you not know about the camera Shaw? Or did you just think Samaritan would protect you?"
"Samaritan only considers it a confirmed kill if it's on camera," Shaw said calmly. "I knew it was there."
Root let out a ragged breathe as the room started to spin. "Sameen…"
Reese's face contorted in grief and rage, "We trusted you." He dug his gun further into Shaw's ribs, until her jaw clenched from the pain.
"I'm not going to lose sleep over killing a mob boss John," Shaw said, her voice still eerily calm.
"And Fusco?" Reese hissed.
Shaw shrugged, "Not losing sleep over that either-"
Reese growled and slammed Shaw back against the train car before throwing her to the ground.
Shaw sat up slowly, a bitter grin on her face. Reese leaned down over her, grabbing her shirt, and struck her across the jaw with a sickening crack.
"That's quite enough Mr. Reese," Harold said suddenly.
Reese staggered back, breathing heavily. Shaw rubbed her thumb against her cheek, checking the damage and leaned over, spitting blood onto the ground. Root stood in place numbly.
"I'm not losing sleep because Fusco isn't dead," Shaw said icily. "Well, I've never actually lost sleep over anything but you get my-" Reese lunged for her again, lifting her to her feet. He slammed her against a pillar and Shaw winced. "Do that again and I'm gonna lose my patience," Shaw hissed.
"You shot him Shaw," Reese shook his head, "I saw the security footage."
Shaw nodded. "I didn't know he was in the car with them. Lionel came up behind me and I clipped his shoulder," she shrugged. "The second shot was for show. Scared him, didn't hit him."
Harold stepped forward, his face neutral. "The footage was quite convincing Ms. Shaw," he warned.
Shaw rolled her eyes. "Yeah Finch. It was supposed to be," she sighed. "Have you found Lionel's body?" she asked.
"No," Reese admitted, tightening his grip on Shaw's collar for good measure.
"Right, because he's not dead," Shaw growled.
"Then where is he?" Harold asked, tilting his head slightly as he surveyed her.
"Can't tell you that," Shaw shrugged.
Reese shook his head. "That's my partner you shot Shaw. Now, maybe you've forgotten what loyalty is," Shaw's jaw clenched, "But we haven't. We aren't losing anybody else. So you're going to tell me where Lionel is," he growled.
A smirk spread across Shaw's face, "Is that a threat John?"
"If it has to be," he said quietly.
Root glanced between them silently, blood pounding in her ears. None of this made any sense. Shaw wouldn't betray them, wouldn't betray her. She knew that, as profoundly as she believed in The Machine. She inhaled shakily.
"Lionel is safe," Shaw said slowly.
Reese shook his head, "I need a lot more than that."
"Sam, please…" Root stared at Shaw, trying to make sense of what Shaw was doing, what game she was playing.
Shaw rolled her eyes, unable to meet her gaze. "That's not gonna work Root."
Reese was silent for a long moment, breathing heavily as he pinned Shaw to the wall. He sighed and let go, letting Shaw's feet sink back to the floor.
Shaw sighed, "Good," she shook her head. Reese grabbed her left wrist and yanked it behind her and upwards. Shaw hissed and threw her head back, hitting Reese in the nose. He growled and yanked further at her arm until there was a popping sound and Shaw gasped in pain. He drove her to her knees, breathing heavily. Reese pulled his cuffs from his belt and shackled her good arm to a solid pipe. Shaw glared at him murderously. Root glanced down at her feet, where Shaw's Nano lay forgotten.
"You can tell us willingly or we can get the information out of you," he said darkly.
"If you think you can get something outta me that way go ahead," she hissed, her lips twitching upwards in a vicious smirk. Root felt her stomach churn. How many times had Shaw used that expression in the past year; how many times had she directed it at Greer, at Lambert, at Martine? She leaned down slowly, her fingers brushing the cold metal of the Nano.
Reese smirked bitterly, "I know I can Shaw. Samaritan did." Shaw's eyes flashed angrily, her entire body going still.
"Don't touch her again," Root hissed, raising Shaw's Nano halfway. Her hand shook slightly as she stared Reese down. They'd been through hell together looking for Sameen. It was hard to believe there was a time where she didn't care what happened to him, when she didn't care one way or the other whether or not he caught a bullet. But he wouldn't lay a hand on Shaw again. No one would.
Reese rounded on her slowly, "This is what we do to get our people back Root," he explained quietly, tilting his head at her in confusion, a wounded look on his face. "This is what we did for Shaw in Maple and we're going to do just as much to get Lionel back." He stared at the gun with an odd expression on his face. He didn't think she'd use it. She raised it higher. He was wrong.
"Shaw's one of us."
"That appears to no longer be the case Ms. Groves," Harold said darkly. "Please, put the gun down."
Root shook her head, her breathe unsteady as her heart pounded against her chest.
"Root…" Shaw sighed, "Listen to Finch." Root's eyes darted past Reese, to Shaw, who nodded to her slowly, her eyes boring right into Root's for the first time since Reese had entered the subway. Root grit her teeth and sighed. She lowered the gun to her side but didn't put it away. Shaw sighed in relief and turned back to Reese. "Besides, you're not as good as Samaritan John," she almost goaded, staring at him defiantly, and Root fought back the urge to be sick.
"We are not the enemy Ms. Shaw. And we are not like Samaritan," Harold said sadly. Reese turned to him to protest, "This is not how we do things Mr. Reese," he reminded him darkly.
"Finch," Reese sounded pained.
"Ms. Shaw will stay here. No contact to the outside world. I imagine that the longer she is here, unable to contact Samaritan, the odds of them activating that device in her head increase exponentially," Harold stared at Shaw as he spoke, watching her every movement. "If you truly have no qualms about betraying us Ms. Shaw, then perhaps you at least still care about what happens to your own head," he starred down at her with open disgust.
Shaw glared at him. "You really think you can keep me here?" she smirked.
Finch held up a black anklet with a sad smile. "I believe you remember this?" Root did. They'd put it on her in the library, to keep her prisoner. When Harold had found the time to modify the subway with a similar invisible perimeter she didn't know. He handed it to Reese and Reese walked over to Shaw slowly.
"Try anything and I break the other one," Reese threatened. Shaw's nostrils flared angrily, but she stood still while he yanked the anklet tight around her leg. He pulled a zip tie from his pocket and took her injured arm and roughly zipped it to another pipe, away from her other hand.
Harold nodded slightly, pleased with himself. Root hands were still trembling so she put the Nano down on the pew. She could barely breathe.
"Shaw's our only lead on Fusco," Reese sighed bitterly. "He won't hold up under that kind of torture Finch, not if Samaritan has him."
Shaw rolled her eyes angrily.
"We have another situation that requires our immediate attention Mr. Reese. However, while you and Ms. Groves attend to that matter, I will do what I can to locate the detective," he said decisively.
Reese tilted his head in confusion, "I'm not leaving you alone with her, Finch."
Harold blinked, "I won't be alone Mr. Reese. I have Bear," he turned to Shaw icily, "Bear won't let her hurt me. And if Sameen is really so far gone as to consider hurting Bear, well…" a small, sad smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then I think we could all agree that Samaritan's hold on her is deeper than we imagined." He nodded once, curtly, "So I believe we will be quite fine here, even if she somehow managed to escape her current confinement."
Root shook her head angrily and stalked forward, reaching out for Shaw. Shaw flinched away from her and Root pulled back. "Sam, please just…tell us what's going on. Tell me," she pled, her voice thick.
Shaw's eyes snapped to her and her jaw unclenched. Her brow furrowed and she sighed. "There's nothing to tell Root," she muttered.
Reese growled.
Harold sighed. "Asking Ms. Shaw to cooperate will clearly get us nowhere Ms. Groves. Let's not waste any further time beating our heads against the wall," he said dryly and limped back to his computer.
"So what's this other mission?" Reese asked, still staring murderously at Shaw.
"When I was developing The Machine, floppy drives were more widely used than USB's Mr. Reese," Finch snorted, "A decade of technology has come and gone. The Machine could never compete with Samaritan on a purely technical level. She…was always slower, by the very nature of her infrastructure. To even stand a chance against Samaritan, we must rebuild The Machine using modern technology."
Reese frowned, clearly lost. Root rolled her eyes.
"What are you suggesting Harold," Root asked, trying to be civil.
"I have been looking for advantages we can exploit if we hope to rebuild The Machine. Every tech blog, new development, every piece of hardware. Samaritan was built using what was, at the time, the fastest processor in the world Ms. Groves," he pursed his lips, "But as of last night that is no longer the case."
Root's eyes widened. "Where is it?"
"Here in New York, at a tech start up called Quantum Dynamics," Harold said slowly.
"You can't seriously be considering this," Shaw scoffed.
"Don't recall asking your opinion Shaw," Reese flashed her a hollow smile, his voice low and menacing.
"You get word that some fancy new tech just happens to be available, conveniently located right here in the city and your first thought it to charge in after it?" Shaw shook her head. "You do realize Samaritan will want it too right? Assuming it's even real and not just a trap to lure you out," she glared at them.
"It crossed my mind, certainly," Harold said indignantly, "But if we move quickly, we can-"
"No. There's nothing you can do. Nothing," Shaw sneered, jerking against her restraints furiously. "The only reason any of you are alive right now is because Greer doesn't know if The Machine is really gone," she hissed. "That is the only leverage you have and the second you show up for that processor you'll go right back to the top of Samaritan's most wanted list."
Root inhaled sharply. "Is that why you're here?" she said quietly, as the pieces sank into place, she turned to Shaw, her eyes burning, "To find out if The Machine survived," her voice shook as she stared at Shaw. Root felt her throat tighten and her face crumbled, "This whole time…" Her mind unwillingly drifted back to the night before, to Shaw's warning that this would end badly, to her sudden interest in The Machine's presence… It had all been for a mission.
Shaw stared at her blankly, her jaw tight.
"Say something Sam!" She yelled, her whole body shaking. If Shaw wouldn't even defend herself it was because she couldn't. Which meant it was all true.
"I'm sorry Ms. Groves," Harold said quietly, "The Machine…She couldn't have predicted this when She asked us to stop looking," he admitted, putting a hand on her shoulder as if that could comfort her. She shrugged it off angrily, fury building in her chest.
"Where is this processor Harry?" she asked, her voice cold. She moved into the train car, shedding her broken, button less shirt and pulling a spare from the storage locker.
Harold nodded, "Across town. You can be there in 30 minutes."
She nodded curtly, twisting the buttons on her shirt into place. "You ready John?"
Reese's eyes darted between Shaw and Finch. "Yeah," he said finally.
"Root…" Shaw's voice was low, almost pained, "Don't do this."
Root's jaw clenched. "Is it just a trap? Or is the processor real?"
Shaw opened then closed her mouth. She shook her head in frustration, "I don't know but-"
"Then just shut up Shaw," Root turned and walked away.
Thanks again to my beta witheveryheartbeat/broodystars (here/tumblr) and to everyone who has taken the time to comment! 12/20/15