The train was lit solely by the light that slipped through the cracks of its wood panels. Rusting iron hooks dangled from the ceiling, clinking softly against each other at the container rattled down the tracks. It felt a little claustrophobic, all six of them stuck in there together. Reddington's contact had assured Liz that this was the safest route to travel towards their ultimate destination. Safe it may have been, but comfortable it was definitely not. Their venue had not helped ease the tense mood shared by the car's occupants.
Ezra and Jacob had positioned themselves at the two doors of the compartment, both of them holding assault rifles at the ready. Neither had removed their masks, which hadn't exactly created an atmosphere of trust. Liz had opted to downgrade to a semi-automatic, tucked into the back of her pants. The Feds were sitting on either side of Kaja, no doubt preparing to throw themselves in front of her in the event of an ambush. Neither man had been pleased when Liz had denied them their own weapons. She felt a twinge of guilt about that, but Reddington had been very specific about letting the FBI examine his property. Apparently the concierge of crime didn't want to risk the weapons ultimately being traced back to his supplier, who according to him was a delightful old friend and gifted pastry chef.
"I need some air." Kaja's voice broke the quiet, causing everyone to stare at her. After a second Agent Janika stood.
"I think I'll join you."
Kaja and Janika made their way to the door to the next car, currently being blocked by Jacob. "Hey, buddy, do you mind?" Jacob didn't respond, just looked over the man's shoulder at Liz for permission. He was letting her make a decision. How unlike him.
"It's fine. Go with them, just to be safe." Jacob hesitated just for a moment, causing her to press her lips together. "Go." Jacob finally nodded, opened the door and motioned Kaja and Agent Janika through.
"Thanks so much." Liz didn't blame Janika for his sarcasm. She would have felt pissed if she was him. It sucked not being in control.
"So you're the boss around around here, huh?" Liz smiled sweetly at the surly Agent Ressler. It was cute that he thought his disapproval affected her in any way.
"Just until we touch down in D.C. After that it's totally your show." As a way of concealing Reddington's involvement Liz had recommended he call in a favor from someone who couldn't immediately be connected to him. Apparently today they'd be flying courtesy of an old friend named 'Omar'.
"Why do I have trouble believing that?" In Liz's opinion, because he had a healthy dose of skepticism. If she was in his position, she wouldn't trust her either. In this case, however his fears were unfounded.
"I don't blame you for harboring some misgivings about me, Agent Ressler, but I haven't lied to you. Why don't you relax, let someone else shoulder the burden of responsibility for a change." Had she concealed things? Yes. Did she have a hidden agenda? Yes. But had she lied? No.
"Relax? Yeah, sure, why not? It's not like I'm unarmed, on foreign soil, being hunted by international criminals working in concert with local law enforcement. Oh yeah, and my only ride out of here depends on the goodwill of your mystery employer." Was he baiting her? Cute.
"What makes you think I have an employer? I thought I was the boss."
"In this car? Yeah. But when we arrived, first thing you did was go into the next room to make a phone call."
"I was checking to make sure there wasn't a hitch in our travel arrangements."
"Then why do it where my partner and I can't hear what you're saying? No, someone else is pulling your strings, Elvis." Reddington may have been a little overly critical in his assessment of Agent Ressler's intelligence. She couldn't resist letting out a small chuckle at her new nickname. She had so hoped he'd dust the drive for prints.
"I hope you weren't too angry about my little joke." Reddington had insisted Agent Ressler have no evidence he could trace to her at a later date, and thus, he'd put her in touch with a man who supplied all manner of identity concealing merchandise. He'd given her carte blanche on any set of fake fingerprints she wanted. When the strange little fellow had show her his celebrity collection she hadn't been able to resist the Presley prints. She had wondered if it was a case of art imitating life or life imitating art.
"Not at all. Just added ''Gone In Sixty Seconds" fan to your criminal profile. For what little those damn things are worth." Clearly Agent Ressler didn't respect profilers, which was a definite strike against him. On the other hand, he had excellent taste in movies. Liz supposed no one was perfect.
"I'm not a criminal Agent Ressler." Ten years of living in the real world, being a model citizen, and working for the damn government had to count for something.
"Really? You got a legal permit for the assault rifle you were firing early?" That's what he wanted to come at her with after she saved his ass, along with his partner's? Please.
"You mean when I was shooting at the people trying to kill you? Maybe not. But consider Agent Ressler, why do you think I'm not wearing a mask right now?" Ressler snorted, not to be impressed by a little thing like her saving his life. If the the man were any more by the book, he'd have his own freaking how-to manual.
"Simple. It's a tactic to generate trust." Okay, being fair, that wasn't 100% inaccurate. No need to mention that though.
"It's because once we get back to D.C., you are never going to see me again. My record is squeaky clean and I have no intention of sullying it any time soon." Ressler jerked his head at the door, from which Janika, Kaja, and Jacob had yet to reemerge.
"So is hers. Doesn't make her innocent. Or you." Mr. Sanctimoniousness wasn't happy about working with people with less that pristine pasts. Well, too damn bad. They couldn't all be self-righteous Dudley Do-Rights.
"People make stupid choices. I'd like to think our lives don't have to be defined by them. Look at Kaja. She's about to bring down to bring down some of the most evil, dangerous people in the world. She'll never feel safe again. You don't think that's worth anything?" Ressler scowled a little clearly not liking having to admit the contribution Kaja would be making to the cause of law and order. Eventually he grunted in concession.
"You did good work with her. A lot of scumbags will be waking up tomorrow with an empty bank account because of you." Liz couldn't help but smile. The complement could not have been easy to give, and Liz was pretty sure she didn't fully deserve it.
"Nothing you didn't start I'm sure." The speed the hit team arrived, their brazen action, only made sense if the people watching Kaja thought Ressler and Janika were getting through to her.
"No. She was stonewalling us. I couldn't get her to admit shit, let alone flee the country." Something was tickling the back of Liz's mind. Either Ressler was being very modest or something strange was going on.
"Someone must have thought otherwise. Or else why..." Liz's voice trailed of as an unwelcome thought hit her.
At that moment Kaja, Jacob, and Janika returned from their break. She strode over to the accounts manager leaving a confused looking Ressler in her wake.
"Kaja, you have hyperthymesia, correct? Super heightened autobiographical memory?" Kaja's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Yes, that right."
"Did you a good look at the bodies in the lobby?" The banker's expression darkened considerably.
"What are you trying to do? Give me another guilt trip? Because if you are-"
"No, it's not that. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important." Liz hoped she was wrong, but the pieces were beginning to join together in a compelling manner. Kaja sighed and closed her eyes.
"Bullets were flying. My focus was the exit. The guard. I saw him in my peripheral visual about 15 feet to my left for maybe a second."
"Was it your usual guard?" Both Feds, Ezra and Jacob had turned their attention to her.
"I think so."
"Think so or know so?" She probably sounded like a bitch, but Liz didn't care at the moment. If she'd been played, she wanted to be damn sure she knew it.
"Height. Weigh. Skin tone. Hair cut. Hair color. It all matches." Maybe this was just paranoia, maybe the monitor from Monarch Douglas overreacted. Human beings could be unpredictable. Not everything had to be a conspiracy.
"Are you absolutely sure? Any detail that doesn't line up?" Liz was surprised to hear Jacob chime in. He hadn't said a word to her or anyone since their fight in the van. Liz tried to re-direct her mind, but it was too late. The look on Jacob's face when she'd told him that she called him 'not real' had burned itself into her brain.
"I'm trying." With effort Liz pulled herself back into the moment, where Jacob and Kaja were presently glaring at each other. He certainly had a way with people.
"I thought you could remember everything." If Jacob kept going, he was going to get himself slapped.
"Everything I've seen, yes, my memory isn't a damn camcorder. I can't zoom in and it's not like you're giving perimeters of what to look for-" Kaja paused mid-rant and tilted her head to the side, "His right hand. The building's regular security guard just stop wearing his wedding band six days ago. There's was a slight discoloration on his ring finger when I saw him last night. He didn't have it when...we passed him." Liz closed her eyes. That son of a bitch. "He could have gotten bronzer. Or the building could have hired new security. But why would they kill him? Why would the bank kill any of them? I always assumed they were on the bank's payroll." Kaja was a smart woman. It certainly wasn't to Liz's advantage that successfully saw the logic train to its conclusion.
"Eliminate the witnesses to the murder of two FBI agents?" Ezra was chiming in now as well. Perfect. She studied him, wondering at his motivation. Her eyes flicked over to Jacob, who subtly shook his head. So Jacob had reached the same conclusion she had. She wasn't surprised. They'd always had a good mutual understanding of each other's thinking.
"Why kill two United States Special Agents, right in their own backyard? Draws attentions. Unless there was a real chance we were going somehow get Kaja back to the United States, why risk it?" And now the feds were playing along as well. Great. Why hadn't she had the sense to leave it alone?
"Maybe they didn't trust her." Jacob was trying to walk back the damage she done. If she was a good a good agent, she'd let him. Operatives did whatever the mission required. Trouble was was she wasn't a good operative anymore, just someone who was sick and tired of being lied to. The phone in her pocket started to ring. Speak of the devil.
Earlier she'd gone into a private car to avoid the federal agents overhearing anything that might be traced back to Reddington. At the moment he wasn't exactly her first concern. Kaja, Agents Ressler and Janika, they all had the right to know who was pulling their strings.
"You son of a bitch." She didn't care what he had done for her in the past, he had no right to screw with her like this. She turned her back on the rest of car's occupants, wanting to focus all of her attention on the bastard on the other end of the call.
"Elizabeth, you're in danger." There was an urgency in his voice that genuine, but she already been fooled by him once. For all she knew this was just the next part of his con.
"I know what you've done." It was a set up. Agent Janika's accusation had been spot on, she just hadn't known it. Reddington must have had his second team following them. Those 'bodies' were almost certainly members of the 'hit team' playing dead in order to sell the charade. He'd created a fake threat, knowing Liz would warn the federal agents and try to protect them. Reddington had masterfully crafted a scenario where Kaja and two federal agent had put themselves in his hands, at least by proxy.
"Agent Janika can not be trusted. You need to restrain him now." She wondered what new angle he was working now. Maybe he was aiming to get Kaja to lose faith in the FBI. Maybe, despite what he'd told her, he was planning to rob Monarch Douglas, or at least drain a few of the bank accounts.
"'Not to be trusted?.' That's rich, coming from you." Elizabeth suddenly felt a hand at the back of her pants, removing the weapon she'd stowed there. She spun to find herself facing the barrel of her own pistol.