A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed this story. We've finally gotten to end now, and I hope you all enjoy it. Much love to my beta thefirstfewchapters for her excellent help throughout this project. This particular chapter however has not been beta'd, so any mistakes are mine.

Reddington, Lizzie and Dembe returned to the Post Office, with the Trader, Matthias Warner trussed like a turkey in the trunk of the car, to the enthusiastic congratulations of the task force. Even Ressler offered a civil handshake. Truly, the agent was showing amazing progress. Red knew there would be a debriefing for all of the agents involved and set out to make himself comfortable while waiting for events to draw to their conclusions.

An hour later, Harold Cooper found him in Agent Keen's office, sitting quietly, reading a paperback book. He glanced up as Cooper entered the room.

"Matthias Warner seems to have gone missing. The Attorney General's office had requested his transfer to another detention facility. He was en route, in custody of the Marshals, but somehow, none of them ever arrived at the facility."

Reddington's eyebrows rose to an almost comical height as Cooper relayed the details of the mishap. He closed the book with a definitive snap and sighed.

"You see, Harold, I bring you a perfectly serviceable Blacklister and now you tell me you've already lost him. This is why we can't have nice things."

"Reddington, I'm telling you this because I know who requested his transfer. And if what you've told me about Tom Connolly is true, and it certainly seems that way, he is in this Cabal all the way up to his neck. And any evidence we bring, any assets we can turn, will disappear in much the same way."

"Until we can find a way to remove him from that office, you are most certainly correct."

Cooper sat down heavily in a nearby chair and rubbed his face with hands that trembled slightly from exhaustion. This job was tough enough; having to deal with the enigmatic Concierge of Crime on a regular basis would surely send him into early retirement.

Across the office, Reddington felt a small twist of sympathy for Cooper's frustration. He respected Harold Cooper a great deal, so this one time, he tried to alleviate some of the worry.

"I believe the incident you are speaking of is the work of another name on my list. A man called Houdini. He's an escape artist. He isn't Anslo, he doesn't come in like a wrecking crew; Houdini relies on stealth instead. If that is the case, the Trader is most likely in the wind now."

Cooper rose and turned to leave the office, then paused and looked back at the other man. Reddington's face was perfectly neutral. Harold Cooper would bet a chunk of his IRA that the man had something to do with what happened to Matthias Warner. Sadly, he was also sure it was better this way. If Warner had been transferred, as ordered, he likely would have been dead by sunrise, covered up neatly by noon.

"Well, if you hear anything helpful…"

Reddington gave his usual ambiguous, charming smile.

"I'll bring it straight to you, Harold. As agreed."

"Now I get to go explain all this to the team. Enjoy your book."

Cooper shut the door quietly behind him as he left and Reddington picked up the novel once more. Matthias Warner would be safe and sound, as long as he continued to prove useful.

The office she shared with Agent Ressler was dark when she finally opened the door. Ressler had gone home, but her debriefing had continued well past what most would consider sane. Lizzie flipped the switch on the desk lamp, starting only slightly at the figure of Raymond Reddington lounging in Donald Ressler's desk chair.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Lizzie."

"You didn't really. Well, not much. But I am definitely telling Ressler you were in his chair. I hope you didn't mess with the settings. He's very protective of it."

A slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth. Undoubtedly, before he left, he would find some way to tweak the chair. Annoying Agent Ressler was a relaxing sort of hobby. Lizzie sat down at her desk, rolling her neck to release the tension that had built over the last few hours. He would offer her the services of his personal massage therapist, but he had a feeling that she would somehow take it amiss. They had built a sort of comraderie over the last week, the last thing he wanted to do was give her reasons to retreat from him again. Their trust was still fragile, and he treasured it more than diamonds.

"Debriefing went well, I take it?"

"It went as well as it could really. You heard about Warner's great escape?"

"I did. Cooper told me. Seemed to think I had something to do with it."

Lizzie's blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly on Red's face, because she would not put it past him. He had a way of protecting his most useful tools.

"Did you have something to do with it, Red?"

Red didn't answer but smiled at her in the shadow filled office. She looked so very young in the half light, full of that exhausted triumph that comes after you win such a battle. He doesn't want to tell her that the war is far from over. That the Cabal has a way of depriving one of even these minor victories. Matthias Warner, the Trader, won't ever see a courtroom. No protection is absolute, even his own. But he doesn't want to take the light out of his Lizzie's eyes yet.

Red looked so uneasy in Ressler's chair, Lizzie wondered what thought had crossed his mind to cause such a countenance. The puzzle pieces of the Cabal were falling into place, one by one. She was tired, but also anxious. It had been scary, working like that with Reddington, but she didn't want it to end. He had been right, back at the beginning; they made a good team. And if she knew him, and she thought she did, he was trying to find some way to sideline her. To put her back with the task force, nice and tidy and out of harm's way.

"I know what you're thinking, Red. And I want you to stop, right now."

"Oh, do you really? And thinking about a good glass of scotch and a steak dinner is not allowed in your presence?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes at his glib response.

"Stop it. You and I both know you are trying to figure out how to extricate me from your life right now."

"Lizzie, I want…"

"What about what I want, Red? Does that ever figure into your little machinations? The Cabal is still out there, Connolly is still in the Attorney General's office. We made a dent in their armor, but there's a lot of work to do. I want to help."

"Lizzie, I know you do and you have. I pulled you away from here because I was afraid for your life. But I think it's best if you return now that the immediate danger has been exposed and has passed."

"Until the next threat? Then you'll abduct me in the parking lot again? Red, you know I am far from helpless. I'm not some damsel in distress that needs saving."

Red's laugh was short and harsh. He had worked so hard to earn her regard; he never imagined that he would actively try to throw it away.

"I know that. I have never doubted your abilities. You've seen the life that I live right now; it changes people, and rarely for the better. Even the Trader, who had never met you, called you a weapon."

"A weapon?"

"A pretty one, if that helps."

"Not really, no."

"This is what I didn't want, Lizzie. If we keep working together like this, this closely, it will continue. This is what I do to people near me. They become weaponized versions of themselves in order to survive the world I live in. I don't want that for you, Lizzie. I only ever wanted you to be safe."

Lizzie sat back in her chair, slowly wending her way through the labyrinth of guilt and anxiety that Red had just shoved her into. She knew he wanted her to be safe, she understood it because she wanted his safety as well. She didn't want to be sent back to the bench, though, now that she'd finally gotten in the game.

"I get what you're saying Red, I really do. I don't want to die any sooner than I have to, and I don't want you to die either, if I can prevent it. So here is what I'm offering. I will go back to work with the task force, we will continue to hunt your blacklisters down. But you and I keep working on the Cabal, with Cooper as necessary. Because we've made some good progress, and if the Trader proves to have valuable intel then so much the better, but I know there is way more to this than even you know right now."

"I…"

"That's my offer, Red. Take it or leave it."

For a moment, she was afraid he would walk away. That she had pushed too far in order to stay close to him. She didn't fully understand why she felt it imperative, but she was learning to trust her instincts again. And her instincts told her that they needed each other. The tension in her shoulders eased when he finally smiled at her.

"In that case, how about dinner?"

Lizzie beamed at him, and he knew as long as he lived he would never forget that smile.

"Sounds great, I'm starved."

Lizzie stood, and Red moved to help her with her coat, unable to prevent himself from smoothing the dark hair that draped over the collar.

"Excellent, I know a wonderful little place…" Lizzie laughed as he followed her out of the office.

"Of course you do, Red. Of course you do."