The Short Game
Story 4
Author's Note: This takes place after the Lindquist Concern.
When I think of Don and Samar sleeping together, I think of the song The East Wind by Gord Downie and the Country of Miracles—give it a listen. Very appropriate for a couple of people that are not truly interested in each other but find themselves falling into bed again.
When I think about Liz and Don trying to find their way back to each other, I think of the song The Space Between by the Dave Matthews Band-give it a listen. I think that song heavily influenced this story- they are so lost from each other in this part of the series, and trying to find a path back to each other through all the crap that they are dealing with in their lives and jobs.
This story became LONG and it still firmly KEENLER. It's actually the start of a bigger story within this series. It's 20 pages and I hope you like where I'm going. There will still be short undercover ops, but this one will pop up again a few times as an ongoing operation that they are working.
Please leave a review—I'd like to know that you think.
OOOOOOO
Liz watched Don start his car and pull out of his apartment's parking lot and turn toward the post office. It had been five days since she stayed at his apartment and saw the bin he'd kept of her things even thought he thought she was dead. That had to mean something, didn't it?
But, Liz reminded herself, she was with Tom, still looking for Agnes, and Ressler needed to be a pot she didn't stir right now. She needed to get her bucket of clothes while he wasn't around, and she still had a key to his place so that would be easy. She was worried if they were alone and not working, the things that would come out of her mouth. Concerns about Tom, the mistakes she is making with him, how much she misses Don, how she feels like a piece of paper floating in the wind, how she'd kill to get her daughter back. But she knew he was with Samar, and all of those things would put him in an uncomfortable position and place him at odds with his current happy life and she couldn't do that to him. Liz also wasn't prepared to do that to herself when she already had too many problems that she could barely handle. Liz wanted him to think she had just missed him and not planned this purposefully to miss him.
She texted his phone: Hey, I'm at your door and you're not answering. Okay if I go inside?
Liz took the elevator to his floor and walked toward his door. She checked her phone and, seeing no return text, figured he was not looking at his texts while he was driving.
She took out her key and opened the door shutting it behind her. She walked into the living room and noted that the bin wasn't sitting near the sofa anymore.
"Hands up," Samar said as she rounded the corner, with her gun on the woman standing there. "Liz?"
Samar dropped her gun to her side and Liz turned around to look at Samar embarrassed and surprised. Samar was standing there in a towel.
"Why are you here?" Samar asked her confused.
"Oh my god, I'm so…." Liz said, her face red as she tried to make her way past Samar and toward the door.
"Liz!" Samar called out to her.
"Can you not tell him?" Liz asked as she turned to look at Samar humiliated.
"No, I can't," Samar said clearly.
Liz nodded and swallowed hard.
"Why are you here?" Samar asked her.
"Ressler has a bucket of my clothes from an undercover operation we did in Baltimore and…"
"Here," Samar said as she walked toward Ressler's living room and pointed to a blue bucket pushed into the corner by his breakfast bar.
"Yeah, that's it," Liz nodded as she walked toward it and picked it up. "Thanks."
"It still doesn't explain why you are letting yourself into his apartment about 5 minutes after he's left," Samar said as she narrowed her eyes at Liz.
"There isn't an explanation. I'm…I'm sorry for invading your space…Ressler's space…and for walking in on you as you were about to…uh…" Liz stammered.
"Liz, you need to talk with Ressler," Samar said as she turned to walk back toward the bedroom. "Lock the door on your way out."
Liz stood with the box in her hands and nodded to an empty room. It was then that she noticed the takeout containers in his recycling bin, the open bottle of wine, the two glasses…
"Fuck," Liz hissed under her breath.
She heard the shower turn on and opened the front door and took the bin into the hallway, locking it as she left. She got to her car and threw the box in the back with tears streaming down her face. She was such a fucking moron.
When she finally sat in her car and looked at her phone there were a series of texts from Ressler and four phone calls.
DO NOT go inside.
Liz, call me.
Pick up, I'm calling you.
I have your bin in my car.
She had to chuckle, the man who never lied to her had resorted to lying to her to get her to not come across Samar in his apartment. She would listen to his messages as she drove, or she would be incredibly late for work.
Liz pulled away from the parking spot she had across the street and made her way to the Post Office. She could be a professional about this, apologize for taking advantage of the situation, give him back his key and congratulate him on his relationship with Samar. He had done that for her, after all. He'd supported her relationship with Tom, her step into motherhood, and accepted her back from the dead with little drama. If he could do all of that for her, then she could at least do this for him.
Don ran up the three flights of stairs to his apartment and quickly unlocked the door going inside and walking toward the living room. When he saw the bin gone, he felt like he wanted to throw up.
"She's gone," Samar said from behind him as she brushed her wet hair.
Don placed his hands on his knees and just nodded.
"I tried to call you, but your line was engaged," Samar said.
"I was trying to call her so she wouldn't come inside," Don said, out of breath.
"We need to stop this," Samar said.
Don rose to standing and looked over his shoulder at her. "You think?"
She didn't appreciate his sarcasm but realized, in that moment, he was incredibly hurt.
"Now Liz knows, and if Aram…"
"Aram has his perfect pink girlfriend," Samar said as she leaned against his bedroom door frame.
"Yeah, but most of his relationships tank pretty quickly," Don said. "You still have a chance."
"And you don't?" Samar asked him.
Don scoffed.
"Ressler, you didn't see her face when she saw me here," Samar said. "You two need to talk."
Don placed his hands on his hips and shook his head in the negative.
"There's hope there," Samar said. "I know about your history with her, I have seen the love with my own eyes. How she took care of you in Alaska…"
"Please stop," Don said as he met her eyes. "There's no hope. She's with Tom and has his child."
Samar walked toward him.
"You don't have a path to Liz figured out in that brain of yours that plans everything?" Samar looked at him with a devious expression.
Don chuckled, she knew him well.
"Okay," Samar said as she sat on his sofa and continued to brush her hair. "I want to hear it."
Don shook his head in the negative, it was an idiotic pipe dream that he was too embarrassed to share.
"Hey, if I get walked in on in a towel after last night, by the woman who I think may still be in love with you," Samar said. "I get this explanation."
Don sighed and sat down in a chair opposite her. Last night had been more planned then the first two times. She'd asked if he'd eaten, they got take-out, and brought it to his place, opened some wine, and spent the night together. Shockingly, having sex with Samar was vacant of any real emotions and just about the physical release that they needed. She, because she had just helped Aram's girlfriend plan the perfect date, and he because Tom now thought they were besties that did each other favors so he could get in Liz's good books again.
"It has to start with Tom messing up in a big way," Don said as he rubbed his hands together. "Then she leaves him, dates a few guys who…"
"Why not you?" Samar asked.
"I will not be the rebound guy," Don said clearly.
Samar nodded.
"I hope none of them are actually quality material," Don said.
"So, you stand by while Liz goes on the dating scene for a year or so?" Samar asked, pointing out how ridiculous his plan was.
"I didn't say it was a good plan, or that I would like it," Don said.
"And then what? She finally realizes that she's loved you all along and dumps boyfriend of the month for you?"
"Something like that," Don said, his face turning red.
"So, a two-year plan?" Samar scoffed. "I think you could have a two-week plan if you speak with Liz today about…"
"Agnes is missing," Don said quietly as he met her eyes. "Nothing matters until we get her back."
Samar sighed.
"When Agnes is back, you need to talk with Liz. Tell her," Samar said as she met his eyes. "And to help with your short-term plan, I will not be doing this with you anymore. As lovely as it was."
Don gave her a sheepish grin. "Agreed."
Don and Samar both stood, and he stepped toward her and kissed her quickly and lightly on the lips.
"Thanks for listening, and for dealing with the situation as well as you did, this morning," he said nicely.
She smiled back at him.
"I hope you get Liz, Ressler," she said as she patted his chest. "You deserve to be happy."
Don nodded and watched her walk back toward his bedroom.
"I can drive you in, save you the cab if you're ready," Don called to her.
"Great," Samar called back.
Thirty minutes later, they were parking at the post office and going up in the elevator together. Liz had got there forty minutes earlier to discover Ressler hadn't made it in yet. When she saw them get off the elevator together, she knew he had gone back to his apartment and heard what had happened. Liz wanted to crawl under her desk out of embarrassment and waited for him to come into their office and ream her out about boundaries and privacy.
"Liz," Don said as he walked inside and dropped his work bag on his chair. "About this morning…"
"I'm so sorry," Liz said as she rose from her chair, he didn't seem as angry as she had expected. "I was wrong to just assume I could…"
"This isn't something others know about and…" Don started, thinking of how this would further devastate Aram.
"Mums the word," Liz said as she willed her face to stop heating up. She could be an adult about this. "And I put your apartment key in your desk. I don't…"
"You should keep it," Don said as he reached inside the drawer and pulled it out holding it out for her.
"No, it's not for me to keep," Liz swallowed hard.
"Look," Don said as he stepped closer to her. "About Samar, she and I…"
"Ressler! Keen!" Cooper called to them, and Don looked over his shoulder at Cooper motioning for them to come to his office.
"We gotta go," Liz said as she walked past him.
Don huffed and looked at the key he was still holding in his hand. He cursed everything about his life right now, as he threw it in the open drawer and slammed it shut. Don reached for his coffee and walked from their office toward Cooper's noting Liz already at the top of the stairs.
"Take a seat Ressler," Cooper said as she gestured to the empty chair next to Liz.
Don nodded and sat.
"I'm sorry we're are not making headway as quickly with Agnes as we hoped," Cooper said as he met Liz's eyes. "But something has come up that I hoped you two would agree to."
Don looked at Cooper perplexed. How did this have to do with Agnes?
"Sometimes when we can't help ourselves, helping others makes us feel better," Cooper said gently. "And I think this undercover case may fit the bill."
"What is it?" Liz asked as she leaned forward.
"There's a religious cult, The Faithful Followers, trafficking young brides," Cooper started. "Girls twelve to fifteen are traded like playing cards at this festival that takes place once a year. They are forced into marriage, moved to another area of the country so they are out of contact with any friends or family, and usually their new husband is quite a bit older than they are and will expect them to fulfill all of the expectations of a marriage."
"And this is something we know about but can't stop?" Liz asked, indignant.
"They are an incredibly insular group that doesn't trust the government or authorities," Cooper said. "But they trust each other."
"Most cults are," Don added. "But these girls can't legally get married if they are only twelve."
"With parent permission they can," Cooper offered. "Their parents are part of the cult."
"So, trafficking in the sense of parents trafficking their own children, not children being abducted and…"
"Yes, the parents are in full agreement about the arrangements," Cooper explained. "It doesn't mean their young daughters know, or have the capacity to understand, what their parents are forcing them to do. Many end up in abusive relationships that…"
"Shocking, a man that marries a fourteen-year-old would have no qualms about beating or sexually assaulting that child," Don scoffed. He found these people repugnant.
"What do we need to do?" Liz asked as she felt the anger in the room from Don's words.
"You have a holistic honey company," Cooper explained.
"Isn't honey natural, what makes this honey holistic?" Don asked, confused.
"It's from your organic farm where the bees are well treated and a purifying ceremony takes placed before harvest," Cooper explained as he passed them two files. "The festival starts in two days, and I'd like you both to be there, selling your honey and finding out more about this trafficking."
"What do you mean, finding out more?" Don asked, annoyed. It had been a shitty morning so far. "Don't you mean, stopping it?"
Liz looked to Cooper for clarification.
"Ideally, it's intel," Cooper said. "We may bring you back in again and we don't want your cover blown."
"But how many children will be traded and shipped off this weekend?" Liz asked, her throat going dry at the thought of these poor girls.
"Possibly thirty," Cooper sighed. "Look, if you see an opportunity, take it, but if it's just going to burn your cover and not actually save those girls, then you need to stand down for another opportunity."
Don sat back frustrated. As soon as he heard this story, he pictured himself kicking some cult ass.
Liz looked toward Don and knew exactly what he was thinking.
"We understand," Liz answered for both of them.
"Okay, head to storage and get your covers built," Cooper said as he dismissed them. "I have the interns working on your honey and labels and we'll have a truckload ready for you. Your ID's will be ready this afternoon."
Don and Liz stood and nodded at Cooper, taking the files with them. As they walked down the stairs Don looked at their identities.
Caleb and Skylar Watson. Two organic farmers from New Mexico who had been found dead in a murder suicide, three days ago and their deaths supressed by the feds. They were new in the organic farming culture and probably knew few or any people at this conference which was held in Binghamton. Caleb grew up on his parent's farm and took it over when they died. His wife Skylar was a prostitute turned farmer once she found God. They didn't belong to any organized church but had Jesus is Lord and Jesus Saves signs on their property which pointed to clear connections to Christianity.
"A tent?" Liz asked as she got to the bottom of the stairs.
Ressler looked at her confused.
She lifted up the supply list of things they needed to bring and at the top was tent.
"I guess the cult and hippies likes to rough it," Don said. "You'll be fine."
"I hate tents," Liz sighed.
"No, you'll hate peeing in a bush and shitting in the woods," Don said with a chuckle. "The tent will seem like a palace compared to that."
"Wait, they'll have outhouses, right?" Liz asked, her concern clear.
"Possibly," Don said. "But I wouldn't count on it with a hippie cult."
"Shit," Liz sighed.
"Speaking of which, I wish I'd know about this assignment this morning before I shaved," Don said as he touched his smooth chin. "I look more like a hippie if I have a few days growth."
Liz nodded, he would. "Well, don't shave from now on and you'll have something."
Don nodded. "Want to head to storage now?"
Liz nodded and they soon found themselves alone in an SUV heading to the FBI storage warehouse on the other side of town.
"Liz, can we talk about Samar?" Don asked her.
Liz balled her hands into fists and released them. "Sure."
"I'm sorry you walked in on that this morning," Don said as he spoke softly. "If I'd know you wanted the bin, I would have…"
"No, you have said it before, your private life is yours and not my…"
"Well, I feel like it is your business, now," Don sighed.
"Sorry," Liz said. "I shouldn't have presumed or…or…or…"
They got to a light and Don turned to look at her.
"It's not a relationship," he said clearly. "It's sex."
Liz sensed him looking at her but couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes as her face reddened. She nodded and swallowed hard.
"The first time it happened…" Don started.
Liz held up her hand. "You don't owe me…"
"I feel like I do," Don said honestly.
Liz swallowed hard, again. She could feel her face heating up and her insides quivering. She didn't want to hear about his relationship, sexual or otherwise, with anyone else. And she knew that was hypocritical considering that she was currently living with and sleeping with Tom but it didn't change how she felt about Don.
"The first time it happened, we were in a very bad place, both of us, for different reasons," Don said, thinking back to Liz being on the run, working with Tom, and Samar's brother. "And we said it wouldn't happen again, and it didn't, not for a long time, until last week, and the again last night."
A horn honked behind them, and Don took his foot off the break and started to drive again. The car was deathly quiet.
"Usually, it's reactionary," Don offered, breaking the silence. "But it's not…it's not a relationship and we've both agreed that it's not happening again."
Liz nodded and wiped at the corner of her one eye, hoping he didn't see the motion.
"You are obviously attracted to each other, and both single, and…" Liz said, quietly.
"It's not like that," Don said, not sure he could articulate to her that it really was just sex and that he and Samar were not interested in each other beyond that, without giving away who he was really interested in.
"I'm happy you have someone," Liz said nodding and trying to convince herself that she did think that. "Whatever you want to say your reasons are…"
"Those are the reasons," Don said, his brow furrowed. "It's not something I'm proud of, but…"
"Don, you are two consenting adults," Liz said as she met his eyes. "It's fine."
Don swallowed hard and nodded. He wasn't sure if this conversation had gone the way he'd wanted it to, or if she really understood that he wasn't dating Samar, or that they wouldn't sleep together again, but at least they had spoken.
When they arrived at storage an archivist was waiting for them and helped them choose appropriate clothing, accessories, and items needed for the weekend. Everything was bamboo or organic cotton or upcycled and Don felt like he'd walked onto the set of some hippie TV show by the time they had tried everything on. The SUV was packed with camping gear, their clothes, and any other items they would need. The interns were handling the honey, signage and packing the delivery truck once they got back to the post office.
On Friday morning, they started toward Binghamton for the festival with Don driving a van filled with honey, a display tent, their camping gear, a bunch of organic food for them to eat, and their bags. Liz sat next to him in a large flowy flowered red dress and he wore bamboo grey shorts and a t-shirt about banning pesticides. His beard had only started to grow in and was at the itchy stubble phase and he kept scratching at it.
"You'll get a rash," Liz said as she looked at him.
"I hate it when it's just staring to grow in," Don said as she itched at it again.
"With your delicate skin you're getting a rash for sure if you keep that up," Liz chastised him.
Don huffed.
"So, how do you figure we find out about the girls?" Don asked. "We're married, so I don't think I'm on the market for a thirteen-year-old."
Even as the words came out of his mouth Don was disgusted by them.
"I think we set ourselves up as brokers for New Mexico," Liz said. "The intel seems to suggest there are brokers in California and Florida, why not New Mexico?"
"Yeah, good idea," Don said. "But how do we get them to trust us?"
"A lot of god talk?" Liz suggested. "I could talk about how I'm reformed and how if I was married younger wouldn't have become a prostitute…"
Don nodded. It was an in.
"So, you are doing this in Jesus' name for the girls own good?" Don asked.
"Yep," Liz nodded.
Don nodded.
"So, you're a former prostitute and I'm a farm boy," Don said. "An unlikely pair, how did we meet?"
Liz thought for a moment.
"A street reach-out program in a local bigger city?" Liz asked as she pulled up a map on her phone and looked at the location of their farm and the nearest city. "Santa Fe is closest."
"Okay, so I'm a farm boy do-gooder and you are a prostitute with a heart of gold," Don snickered.
"How about you offered me a job on your farm to get me off the streets and I took you up on it," Liz said as she turned to him excitedly. "I had just had enough, maybe had too many tricks go wrong,…"
"And after working on the land together love developed," Don nodded.
"Our passion for environmentalism and organics turned into passion between the sheets," Liz smiled at him.
"Well, you are the expert," Don said. "Being a hooker and all."
"Reformed," Liz said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Don thought for a moment.
"Could she be using him?"
"How so?" Liz asked.
"Safety, security, getting away from the lifestyle…" Don said, thoughtfully.
"Maybe," Liz said. "But that complicates our story. I think we just need to be in love."
Don nodded.
"How long were you a prostitute?"
"I ran away from abusive parents at fourteen and started turning tricks pretty quickly," Liz said.
"And we've been married for 4 years?" Don asked trying to recall the file.
"Yes, and together for almost five," Liz noted.
"How old is she now?" Don asked.
"Twenty-eight," Liz said. "Younger than me."
"You pass for that age easily," Don said. "So, I pulled you off the streets at twenty-three. You'd been turning tricks for seven years at that point."
Liz nodded.
"Hard life for seven years," Don said with a nod.
"Yeah," Liz nodded. "I don't have a high school education, so I need to come across as less schooled."
Don nodded.
"And you more farmer-y," Liz smiled at him.
"It'll be nice to not wear suits for a few days," Don said.
"I like the suits," Liz said quietly.
Don looked sideways at her and said nothing.
"Liz, I'm not letting any girls get transported away," Don said seriously.
"I know," Liz nodded.
"I think we can put a vice grip on them for information once we have them in custody and know who all the players are, rescue some more girls," Don said.
"Agreed," Liz nodded.
Don sighed and continued to drive. The thought of old men marrying innocent kids made his blood boil and if he could save one girl from that fate he was not backing down.
After arriving in Binghamton and setting up their tent in the park Liz and Don started to display their honey.
"You're new this year?" A man said as he approached their tent and looked at their honey.
"Caleb Watson," Don said as he shook the man's hand. "My wife Skylar."
"Skylar, that's a unique name," the man said as he let go of Don's hand and nodded toward Liz.
"Thank you," Liz smiled at him.
"I'm Gideon Clement," the man said. "Leader of the Faithful Followers."
"Any man of faith is a friend of ours," Don smiled at him, knowing they had scored the jackpot. "We came up from New Mexico. We're going to visit my cousin in Rochester and decided to make some money along the way. We did the fair in Pawnee and then the one in Muncie as well."
"How was business?" Gideon asked.
"Sold quite a bit, no longer had to have our camping gear strapped to the roof," Don chuckled.
"That's always a good thing," Gideon smiled at them. "You are people of faith?"
"Our farm is god's work," Liz said to him.
"Amen," Gideon said with a smile.
"We have a worship service tonight at sunset, and tomorrow at sunset, Sunday at sunrise because everyone is usually gone by dinner time," Gideon explained. "We'd love it if you could join us."
"We'd be honoured," Don said as he handed him a jar of honey.
"Thank you, Caleb," Gideon said with a smile. "I'll be looking for you two."
Don and Liz nodded and watched the man leave.
"How lucky was that?" Liz asked under her breath as she placed price tickets on items and Don unboxed more honey.
"I know," he said quietly. "You need to get in with some women, share your story so tonight he already knows about us a little more."
Liz nodded.
They spent the day selling honey, which was labelled organic and holistic but really was from a vat of commercial honey that the FBI had procured for this operation. Don talked about studies out of Poland that stated honey cured heart disease. Liz talked about the bees, and their ethical treatment of them ad nauseum. And at 9pm, the first night of the festival was winding down and patrons were being ushered out the gates, leaving only the vendors on the property. Don pulled down the tent flaps and tied them to the poles and walked holding Liz's hand in his toward the area where everyone seemed to be gathering.
Liz had, luckily, had some breaks throughout the day and had shared her story of prostitute turned farmer with many women. Don had noticed a couple women show up to their tent to talk with her about her experiences, details they had obviously heard from other women. Don saw Liz talk, quite accurately, about living on the streets, fending for herself, the johns, her redemption, and her loving marriage to him that Jesus had not blessed with children yet. One woman had returned with a bottle of some sort of liquid and told Liz to drink it before bed to help implant the seed for a child.
Don looked at the bottle after Liz had thanked the woman and put it in an evidence bag to be further investigated when they returned.
"Not everyone is joining the service," Don said quietly to Liz as he looked at some other vendors happily opening a beer, or playing music at their tent site.
"Yeah, but most are," Liz noted.
"True," Don said quietly as he kissed her temple.
Liz smiled up at him as they stood with the others and listened to the sermon about redemption, faith and service. After the service a few women came to ask Liz to join them and Don walked toward a group of men talking. When he got close someone cleared their throat and everyone turned to look at him.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt…" Don started.
"It's fine," Gideon said as he joined the group. Don was startled to find him right behind him. "Brother Caleb is here with his beautiful wife from New Mexico and their healing honey."
Don smiled at him and tried not to show how ill at ease he was with this group.
"Thanks," Don smiled at him. "Great sermon."
Gideon smiled at him. "Can we speak privately?"
"Of course," Don said as he was led away from the group.
"I heard from my wife about yours," Gideon said. "I would never have thought that Skylar…"
Both men looked toward Liz standing and laughing with a group of young girls, obviously the ones that were being traded this weekend.
"It's in her past," Don said with a nod. "The lord brought me to her to save her."
"And save her you did," Gideon nodded. "Praise be."
Don nodded.
"She mentioned to Mira that she wished she'd been saved younger," Gideon said.
"She was living a life without god or hope or the preservation of her body from a very young age," Don said as he swallowed hard.
"No one wants that for any young girl," Gideon said. "I'm sorry she suffered that fate."
"I am too," Don nodded. "If I could have saved her sooner, I wish I could have."
Gideon patted Don on the shoulder and smiled at him.
"How big is your farm?" Gideon asked.
"We have 100 acres," Don said. "We're a small operation, but, after my parents died, I started intensive farming and now produce more than they ever did in my entire life."
"Farmhouse?" Gideon asked.
Don nodded.
"Seasonal staff quarters?" Gideon asked.
"Yeah, for the season we usually bring in locals, volunteers," Don said. "Some stay with us, but not many."
"Volunteers?" Gideon asked, surprised.
"It's amazing the amount of people who will volunteer for an organic farm if we send them home with a few vegetables," Don smiled at him. "Skylar was looking into farm-stay programs where people work for a place to stay, but we didn't get to that this season."
Gideon nodded. "You have big ideas."
"Just trying to feed my family," Don smiled at him humbly. "And serve god."
Gideon smiled at him and looked at a group of men setting up horseshoe tossing.
"I'm glad we met Caleb," Gideon said with a smile. "I hope you consider joining the Faithful Followers."
"We can't leave our farm," Don said, knowing from Liz's conversations with the women that most members lived on a commune together.
"We have followers who live in other areas of the country and help us in their own way, other ways," Gideon said with a smile.
"I'd like to hear more about The Faithful Followers," Don smiled at him.
"Let's talk over horseshoes," Gideon said as he wrapped an arm around Don and walked with him toward the horseshoes.
At 11 pm Don unzipped their small Vaude tent and crouched to step inside their very small eco-friendly tent which the archivist in storage said was for 2-3 people, but when they unpacked it to set it up noted the directions had it as a 1-2 person text. Their two sleeping mats overlapped and rose up on the sides of the tent and the two recycled blankets they brought seemed enormous in the compact area. Don huffed as he maneuvered inside and sat next to Liz who was laying down with their backpacks surrounding her head and her phone glowing in the darkness.
"Get used to it," she whispered as he reached for his pack and leaned over her. "You liked the horseshoes?"
"It was relaxing," Don admitted as he undid his shorts and shimmied out of them and pulled on another pair of lighter bamboo shorts squirming around on his sleep mat while Liz laughed at him. "I'm sure you didn't look any more ridiculous when you changed."
"No, I just didn't have an audience to laugh at me," Liz chuckled.
Don gave her a dark look and decided to just sleep in the t-shirt he was wearing instead of trying to find another shirt. He placed his backpack next to Liz's head and lay down on the mat, trying to get comfortable on his back.
"You want your blanket?" Liz asked him as she held up the blanket that seemed far too big for such a small space.
"No, I'm hot," Don whispered. "Is there a vent?"
Liz sat up and popped open a small vent and lay back down again giggling.
"Great," Don sighed quietly.
Don took the blanket from her, unzipped the tent, and pushed it outside and then zipped up the tent again.
"How are you not hot?" Don asked as he looked at her with the blanket over her.
"Mind over matter," Liz said. "And I expect it'll get colder later tonight, and I'll need it." She didn't mention that she was just sleeping in a tank top and underpants.
Don laid on his mat staring at the ceiling. They needed to talk about what they had learned but the tent was too open.
"In the morning, you want to go take a dip in the lake?" Don asked her.
"Sure," Liz nodded in the dark. She didn't think either of them had brought bathing suits, but they'd figure it out.
Don shifted and shifted and shifted. He scratched at his beard that was growing in and, at one point, Liz felt him fanning himself.
"Look, I know you are usually an oven in bed," Liz whispered, knowing that intimate knowledge about him from their past together. "Take off your shirt and open the tent a little to let more air in if you like."
"Thanks," Don said as he did just that and then laid back down.
Liz fell asleep rather quickly but sensed his rest was a long time coming. When she woke in the middle of the night it was to him sound asleep and shivering as he lay on his side facing her. It had got cold overnight, quite cold, and he was hardly dressed.
She sat up and re-zipped their tent and scooted closer to him, covering him with her blanket and shimmying her body up next to his for warmth. The shivering stopped a few minutes later, and she was just falling back asleep when his arm came around her and wrapped around her back pulling her closer. Liz swallowed hard, did he, in his sleep, know it was her? Or did he think she was Samar?
In the morning, they woke at almost the same moment and rolled away from each other, embarrassed for the position they were in.
"Sorry, I think I stole your blanket," Don apologized as he sat up.
"No, you were shivering, and I shared it," Liz said as she sat up as well.
They looked at each other as an awkward silence fell over the small tent.
"Swim?" Don asked her.
"Uh, yeah," Liz said as she reached for her bag and shimmied on a pair of shorts while he stepped outside in his shorts and bare chest. She grabbed two towels and threw on her flip flops and walked with him toward the lake.
The water was cold, but refreshing in the morning after a night spent couped up in a tent. Don and Liz waded out into the water until they were chest deep and then dunked down so just their shoulders and heads were above the water.
They quietly shared information they had gleaned from the others. Liz had counted 19 girls in the age range of 12-15 and three of them had indicated to Liz that they were 'moving on to a new life' or 'doing something for their family and god', which she thought indicated they had some knowledge that they were being sent away and possibly married off. Don told her about Gideon's questions, his wanting them to join his church, his hard sell for them to become members, and his understanding that Liz had clearly told everyone that she wished she was saved younger. He told her about Gideon's questions about their farm and seasonal workers and was wondering if Gideon was starting to consider them as the satellite location to deliver girls into the hands of pervert church members.
"Liz, this is a longer play," Don said quietly, his voice regretful. "I wanted to come in and bust this up this weekend, but if we can get in, we'll learn so much more about the trafficking…."
"I know," Liz sighed as she saw some people walking toward the lake. She moved closer to Don and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"What are you…?" Don asked.
Her eyes flicked to the shoreline and Don didn't have to look to know people were joining them.
He smiled at her and maneuvered her under the water, so she was sitting on one of his thighs.
"I'm going to find out as much information as I can about the girls and where they are going," Liz smiled at him and kissed his jaw. "And I think we can call in some people to follow the cars as they leave with the girls…maybe stop them on traffic violations or send in social services…"
Don nodded and was enjoying, more than she should, her body this close to his and her lips on his skin.
"And I'll try and get Gideon to trust me without scaring him off," Don said.
Liz nodded and started to shiver.
"Shit, you're cold, we should…"
"Another minute," Liz said. "We don't want it to look like we're leaving because they're here."
"If we were getting frisky and we now have an audience, we would be," Don said with a smirk.
"Frisky?" Liz asked with a raised eyebrow. "Are you going to start using the Laverne and Shirley 'vodiohdoh' as well?"
Don looked at her confused.
"I'll show you a YouTube video," she chuckled.
"Honestly though, who could have sex in that tent?" Don said as he shifted her off his lap and took her hand, walking with her toward the shore. "If a couple wanted sex, here or in a little treed area would be better options."
"You scope out places for sex spots?" Liz asked.
"Doesn't every man?" Don asked her with a chuckle.
"I don't know, do they?" Liz asked, surprised.
Don gave her a dark look that confirmed her question.
"Really?" Liz asked, with a smile. "You learn something new…"
They exited the lake, said hello to everyone and, once wrapped in their towels, left to go back and get changed for the day. Saturday was a long day of selling honey, talking about medicinal natural cures, and listening to people disparage the government, big business, and the healthcare system. At one point Don claimed radishes cured certain brain tumors and Liz nearly burst out laughing. There was always a place for alternative medicines, but some of the claims they were hearing from fellow vendors, and now themselves, were off the charts. Saturday night was a bocce tournament for the men and the woman spent a lot of time talking in small groups, many of the younger girls were fascinated with Liz's history. She noted some worried looks from the older women, so she didn't provide too many details and leaned heavily on how happily she was now that she was married and with God finally in her life.
They spent another uncomfortable night in their tent, this one much colder. Liz was grateful for Don's furnace of a body that night. They woke again to another morning swim that seemed to take all the sweat and sleep off them. Liz found herself more and more normal with Don as the weekend progressed and her thoughts of him and Samar seemed to grow further and further distant.
On the Sunday, she left the park on the premise to re-fuel their van before they left and met with a team of agents that would be following any car with a man driving alone with a young girl. While she was gone, Don noticed an influx of cars arriving, mainly with men in their forties and fifties, mainly alone. They all seemed to know to go to a large tent where, he assumed, Gideon was meeting with them. Don looked around and also noticed that he didn't see any of the younger girls who always seemed to be running around helping someone with something or caring for younger children.
"Shit," he said as he continued to sell honey and keep his eye on the tent.
When Liz came back, he put a plan in place and left her to sell the honey while he casually walked toward Dwight's eco-friendly paint booth and snagged one of the sample pots of paints and went to the washroom. He pried off the lid and grabbed a paper towel, dipping it in the pot and then re-securing the lid and pocketing the small tin of paint. Don walked to the cars he saw men arrive in alone and quickly placed an olive-green smear on the back plate of each car. Enough that they could use it as a tag for the FBI to follow certain cars, but not so noticeable that the driver would spot it if they walked past their car. Everyone was busy at the festival, and no one seemed to take note of him weaving around the cars. He went to the washroom, disposed of the small paint tin and paper towel and quickly texted the information to the head of the team waiting outside the festival at a nearby gas station and received a confirmation from them that they knew what to look for.
He returned to Liz and looked at her nodding his head. She nodded toward the tent where men and young girls were slowly emerging in groups of 2 or 4 and walking toward the cars Don had just tagged for the FBI.
"How many cars?" Liz asked quietly.
"I think I got 16," Don said. "I couldn't remember them all."
She nodded and swallowed hard. That meant, if her calculations were correct, three cars were not tagged.
"They still know to follow cars with older men with a younger girl in the car with them, tagged or not," Don said quietly.
She swallowed hard and was distracted by a woman asking questions about types of bees.
It was Don't sharp intake of breath that made her look up and she followed his sightline to a young girl she'd met walking with an older man and two younger children.
"I've got to…" Don said as he started to walk away.
He watched them walk toward an untagged car and quickly got the plate before he ducked behind a tree and texted the plate to the team knowing a father driving with 3 kids wouldn't get the car followed, but one of those kids was now his wife.
Don returned to the booth and took over the selling while Liz kept an eye on the people returning to cars, sure all of them were either leaving in tagged cars or were a single man driving with a young girl and would get followed.
"Seventeen," Liz said under her breath as she kept looking back at the tent and stepped toward Don.
"Maybe two aren't getting married off," Don said as he pulled her into a hug and rocked her slowly. "Maybe two were just kids."
He felt Liz nod against his chest, and they stood watching the tent and hugging for a few minutes watching no one else emerge.
"My count must have been off," Liz said quietly before they separated.
Don nodded.
They started to slowly pack up their tent, always keeping an eye on Gideon's tent, and seeing no one else but other men emerge without any young girls.
Don was putting the last of the honey in the truck when he noticed men starting to take down the lines holding up Gideon's tent.
"Now or never," Don said to Liz as he placed a hand on the back of her waist and the two of them covertly watched the tent.
Gideon emerged, with two young girls following him close behind.
"Shit," Liz said. Her count was correct.
The two girls were taken by two women, and they disappeared into the washroom.
"Maybe a couple guys were no shows?" Don asked.
"Maybe," Liz said as he bit her lip.
Don kissed the side of her head and grabbed the last of their things to put in the van while Liz headed to the washroom to listen in on what was going on with the girls.
"You're heading to Rochester tonight?" Gideon asked Don as he shut the van hatch,
"Yeah, to visit my cousin Frank and his family," Don said. "You packing up yet?"
"My people are," Gideon said as he gestured toward the tent that was currently being collapsed. "Caleb, when will you be back in New Mexico?"
"Week after next," Don said. "Why?"
"I will be down in that area the same time and I was wondering if I could visit you and Skylar, talk with you about a project I think you can help with, and maybe about joining the Faithful Followers? You seemed quite interested?"
"I am, we..we are," Don stammered. "Sky is looking for a community."
Gideon smiled and nodded.
"We'd love to have you," Don said as he reached for a pamphlet. "My cell number is our business number, very high tech."
Gideon and he laughed at his joke.
"Call or text me the dates and I'll make sure the spare room is ready for you," Don said.
"I'd like that," Gideon said. "I'll bring Mira too."
"Sky would like that," Don smiled at him.
"Safe travels home," Gideon said as he reached out and shook his hand.
Don returned the offer and watched him head back to his truck where the tent was being collapsed.
Liz returned about ten minutes later and they got in the van to start the trip north to Rochester, in case they were being followed. When they were finally alone, Liz shared that two men had, in fact, not shown and the girls were devastated. Apparently, it had been built up by everyone that this was their path to heaven and now they were worried about their souls being damned. Don told her about his talk with Gideon and they called Cooper to put a plan in place for them to take over the farm in a couple of weeks, put some agents in place to pretend to be farm hands, and get him and Liz to New Mexico in a week, in case Gideon decided to show up early. When they got to Whitney Point, the team following them determined they hadn't been followed and they turned around and headed back to DC.
In Harrisburg, they pulled over for food and Liz took over driving them back to DC. She pulled up in front of his place and cut the engine at almost midnight.
"How glad will you be to sleep in your own bed tonight?" Liz smiled at him.
"My back will thank me," Don smiled at her. "Thanks for sharing your blanket."
"Thanks for sharing your furnace of a body night two," Liz snickered. She was right, the second night was damn cold.
"Well, what happens in a tent for one and not really two, stays in a tent for one and not really two," Don chuckled.
Liz smiled at him.
"Have a good night Don," Liz said. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Don nodded and got out of the van. Liz drove it to the warehouse where she lived with Tom and sat for a minute, dreading the emptiness of the place, the lack of a child that should be there, the missing piece of her. She gathered her strength and walked inside to find Tom sitting and looking at some maps.
"How was your operation?" Tom asked her.
"Good," Liz said as she dropped her bag.
"Look, I know you can't tell me the details, but if you want to talk about…"
"I don't," Liz said quietly. "I'm heading to bed."
Tom nodded. She and he had texted throughout the weekend, and he'd had no news to share about Agnes. She was mad at him still for what he had done, as much as she had tried to forgive him, he knew she really hadn't. Tom sighed and looked back at the maps.
He hoped her spending a weekend with Ressler, a man he knew she still had feelings for, had not taken her farther away from him. Tom knew he and Liz had a history he could lean on and a child that he could remind her they shared to keep them together. He knew she cared about him still.
But Tom also wasn't stupid. He knew Liz and Ressler had a past, what exactly that entailed she had never divulged, and he'd quietly packed it away under the heading 'The Past'. But now that they were back in DC, and Liz was working cases with Ressler again, Tom was filled with a great sense of unease. He knew she cared deeply for Ressler, but something was keeping her from ditching Tom and running to Ressler. Tom wasn't sure what that was, but he had been trying to figure it out by spending more time with the man. So far, he'd come up with nothing. He needed to find out what was making Ressler unappealing as an option for Liz so he could expose it more, manipulate it, and steer her away from the man. Tom Keen was sure about one thing, he wasn't losing Liz to Don Ressler.
To be continued…