Wednesday

Liz woke up from a terrible nightmare about people getting shot and slashed, and there was a fire in which she drowned. She sighed in relief when she realized that she was lying in Don's arms.

In the meantime, she had furnished the guest room for her own needs with a studio couch instead of the bed and a desk so she could use it as an office, and as a little hideaway when she needed time for herself. But right now, she was glad that she wasn't alone. Don was really the only one she felt safe and secure with.

Don woke up because she was moving. "You all right?" he asked sleepy.

Liz smiled. This was typical for him. He always looked after other people first. "I'm always all right when I'm with you."

"That was a bad day the other day." He caressed her hair and her cheek, glad to have her back. When he had feared for her life, he had realized once more how much he loved her.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I wish we could find these mysterious things and give them back. It would simplify matters."

"I have an idea where they could be."

"Yeah?" Liz looked at him full of hope.

Don smiled. "After breakfast, okay?"

Later, they drove to an evidence garage of the FBI where the forensic team had stored all the things they had found in the cabin.

My guess is that you simply lost whatever your mother gave to you that day," Don said. "I mean, you were a little girl, a toddler, there was a fire, and you had better things to do than to look after whatever. So, there's a distinct possibility that it is here." He pointed to the mess around them.

Liz looked at the many things that were stored in boxes, spread out on plastic sheets-books, a shoe, a plastic bottle... some of them so burnt and rotten that it was impossible to tell what it had been once. She wrinkled her nose, but then she put on gloves, and they went through the things.

"That's it!" she suddenly shouted when she discovered a bunny. "That's what she gave to me. I think in the plane on the way to D.C."

Don got to her, and they examined the half burnt, dirty bunny. "There's something inside," he noticed. He got a pair of scissors and cut it open.

"A key," Liz said in surprise. "Could belong to a deposit box."

"Let's find out."

While Red was holding Braxton captive and made him call Porter to assure him that he was getting close to what he was looking for, both teams - Red's team and the FBI - were trying to find out what the key might belong to.

Late in the evening, it turned out that only a hotel in New York City had keys like these for their deposit boxes. The hotel still existed, and they were assured that the box was still there.

Thursday

Early in the morning of the following day, Don and Liz headed to New York. The hotel was a five-star-luxury house, but it obviously had a special clientele: rich criminals who were untouchable because there weren't any witnesses or evidence to tie them to a crime.

"You have to pay two million dollars for a deposit box," the concierge explained to them while he lead them to the strongroom. "You buy it. It belongs to you for as long as you wish."

After he had left, they opened the box with the number 287. They discovered several boxes. The flat ones contained five paintings.

"I'm sure I've seen this one in a catalogue of stolen goods," Don said, holding a painting in his hands.

"And I think I saw this one," Liz added when she opened another box containing a little, golden statue.

"I'm afraid, we know now the speciality of your mother," Don remarked when they discovered more and more jewellery and other works of art.

"She was a thief. And maybe McCray didn't give her the microfilm, but she stole it. Here it is." It was attached to the bottom of a statue.

"And this is the Red Star," Don said when he opened the last box.

It was a diamond. A big jewel, cut in the most brilliant way, like a star, glittering reddish in the light.

Although it was a beautiful piece and probably worth millions, Liz was disappointed. "That's why they were all killed? Because of a diamond?"

Later that day, they met with Red, and had a look at the microfilm. On it was a copy of a file called the "Capitalist Manifesto". In it was listed who had been involved in the business transactions The Alliance had begun in the 1980's in the Soviet Union.

As Red had already found out pipelines, refineries and mines were sabotaged, destroyed, then rebuilt with the "help" of foreign companies. People had been assassinated, others were sponsored to make the "right decision", politicians were paid. It was a manifest of crime, and some people who had been involved back then were still in high positions in economy, politics, departments, or intelligence agencies.

One chapter caught their special interest. It was about a diamond mine in Russia. The Alliance had "helped" to win more diamonds than ever before. The extra was smuggled out of the country, then was laundered by Angus Younes's syndicate via South Africa and Antwerp, Belgium, so the diamonds could be sold as legal won jewels. Ferrent LC sold the diamonds on the American market as their secret second division, the benefit was shared with the members of The Alliance.

"No wonder I've never found out anything about Angus Younes or Salumbides," Red said. "The diamond business is the most discreet one. Nothing gets in or out but trust." He took a deep breath. "Well, I think it's time to talk to Leland Porter."

"Don't kill that guy," Don said, worried about things might get worse. "It won't help."

"No, it wouldn't help," Red agreed. "The Alliance is like a Hydra. You cut off one head, and two new heads will grow. Extortion is the only way to keep them calm."

Friday

In the evening, they all met at Porter's house. When Liz and Don entered the living room, they both gasped. Red had hung Braxton's body up right in the doorway. It was one of those moments when they were remembered of his dark side.

A second later, Porter arrived, surprised about his unexpected visitors. He was stunned when he saw the body. "What the hell are you doing in my house? And what..."

But Red cut him short. "Sit your ass down and shut up," he told him in a cold tone. "You demanded proof that I have that damn microfilm. Well, I have it. We made you a copy." He threw a file with the Capitalist Manifesto on the table.

Porter had a short glance at it and went pale. Finally, he sat down.

"It's our turn now," Red said. "It's time to renew the agreement I had with Fitch. And it's time you tell us the truth about the night of the fire."

Porter swayed in his chair, hesitated. "Everything started with Helen," he finally said. "I don't know her real name or where she was from. She was my lover. One day she gave me a classified file she had stolen from me. She was a clever thief, a con artist. I thought that her skills might be useful and asked her to spy on Angus Younes to make sure he wouldn't betray us." He paused and looked at Liz. "She took this job too seriously. She married Younes and made him believe our daughter was his."

It took her a moment to understand what he was trying to tell her. She stared at him in disbelief. "You... you are..."

"Yes." Porter nodded. "I'm your biological father."

She was horrified because she didn't like him at all. His name was mentioned very often in the Capitalist Manifesto. He was a murderer, a spy, a corrupt bastard. He had cold eyes, was a sleazy guy. She wouldn't even want to touch him. Her mother not only had been a thief, she also had had a very poor taste in men!

"We began to hate each other," Porter went on. "I guess, that's why McCray gave her a copy of the microfilm. But we didn't know that back then. We had reason to believe that McCray gave it you." He looked at Red.

"I guess, you know that Mays was a member of The Alliance," he went on. "As you were Mays's best friend we decided to be careful. At the same time, George Ferrent noticed that the Red Star, that Younes had sold to him, was a fake. We decided to have a little chat with Younes. That's why we all met at this cabin. But you were late, suddenly that guy with some men came in, there was an argument. Younes said he had never sold the Red Star to Ferrent and, of course, not a forged jewel. That guy wanted something back, probably the diamond, we wanted the copy of the Manifesto back, and tried to make Mays get it from you. I don't know, it was a mess.

"Suddenly, Younes said that the girl had it. We thought he was talking about the microfilm because that was the main subject at that moment, and he looked at your daughter," Porter said to Red. "All of a sudden, there was a fight, lots of chaos, the damn Christmas tree fell, the room caught fire. We all left in hurry. Consequently, we don't know what happened afterwards."

"He killed them all," Red said with a cold voice. The inner pain was back, and he had to hold himself off to kill Porter. Probably, Lizzie wouldn't want him to kill her biological father, and Donald would be disappointed. "You could have saved them."

Porter shrugged. He didn't seem to care about the fact that five people had died that night. "We didn't know that the Younes had their daughter with them. I was the only one who knew that she existed, by the way, and we didn't see her that night. When you surrendered to the FBI and insisted speaking with Elizabeth Keen, a foundling, we thought about the possibility that Angus Younes hadn't talked about your daughter back then but about Beatrice."

"That's why you sent Garrick." Red nodded. "He was supposed to bring her, too."

"Yes. But he was never supposed to hurt her," Porter said. "I mean, she is my flesh and blood, isn't she?" He smiled at Liz, but she shivered in disgust and got closer to Don.

Porter noticed it and laughed. "Your new lover was promoted by us, you know? When Michael Ferrent took over the business of his father, he asked me to assign his nephew to Reddington's case. Like me, Ferrent never believed that Reddington had the microchip and wanted him dead.

"Fitch was the head of The Alliance and was protecting you," he said to Red. "So I didn't tell him that I made Diane Fowler assign Agent Ressler to the case and paid Agent Jonica to make sure Ressler would kill you. Unfortunately, Agent Ressler didn't know anything about us, and he couldn't be trusted. He'd rather arrest us than playing along." He gave Don a cold grin.

Scornfully, Don smiled back. "I take it as a compliment. I'd rather die than being a member of your," he paused before he added snidely, "club."

"Now you are on Reddington's payroll. Do you really think this is any better?" When Don preferred not to answer, Porter went on, "However, Garrick couldn't help us with Beatrice. Later, Braxton propositioned us to work together. We wanted the microfilm, Braxton the Red Star."

"Well, we won't give you the microfilm," Liz said. She was filled with rage, but she tried to act careful and reasonable. "We will keep it for our own safety. I can assure you that there's more than one copy. Every key member of the task force has one, and it will be released if anything happen to any of us."

Before they met with Porter, they had agreed that they could only try to extort him for an agreement, a truce of sorts. But if Porter was her biological father, she could ask for more.

"We want everyone gone who is involved with The Alliance and has access to the task force. The task force needs to be independent. We want all members of The Alliance to resign from their posts. Otherwise, we will leak the Capitalist Manifesto to the press and ask them to investigate your activities. You know it would cause the biggest economic and political scandal this country has ever seen. And we want full immunity for our asset." She nodded to Red. "This should be the last thing Tom Connolly does before he resigns."

Everyone looked at her in surprise. That's my girl, Red thought, feeling proud. That's the essence of negotiation. Using the right moment to take the other side down.

Saturday

"I can't believe that this awful man is my biological father." Liz was still upset the next morning, when she and Don were still lying in bed. "I would rather prefer this Angus Younes or Reddington. But Leland Porter is the worst slick I've ever met. Do you think this is somehow infectious?"

"Infectious? Do you mean that you'll become a slick yourself?" Don teased her.

"Yes, a dirty cop, a murderer, a bastard, a liar. If I only could get rid of his genes." She shook with disgust.

"I guess, the only effect is that you are sometimes a bitch," Don said with a smile. "And to be honest, I'm pretty sure he's wrong."

Liz looked at him in surprise. "Why?"

"I told you I ran a search with your DNA-profile through all kinds of databases, trying to find relatives of you, and didn't get a single hit. Well, Porter's DNA-profile is in the database of the CIA. I know that for sure."

"So, he isn't my father?" Liz was relieved.

"I'll check it again, okay? But I don't think he is. You shouldn't tell him, though. The only reason he agreed to accept our demands, instead of starting a war, is because he thinks you're his daughter."

"Seems my mother was a bitch," Liz said with a sigh. "She made both Porter and Younes believe I was their daughter but, in fact, it was someone else who we, probably, won't be able to find. I hope it isn't this Salumbides who murdered Red's family and my mother. To be honest I'm worried about what will happen if Red finds Salumbides. And I'm pretty sure he will find him."