Chapter 33: "Rechts"; "Working on it"; one step ahead; "Stay"


Please note: In the Works Cited portion of Chapter 1 there are suggested music pieces to accompany this and other Chapters to enhance your experience of reading. I hope you enjoy them...

Mid-town Manhattan, January, 2015

Reese pressed the buzzer and waited for the signal to push the door open. Inside there was that clean scent he recalled from his last visit there with Bear. He glanced around the waiting room. A few patrons with nervous dogs straining on leashes looked up. At the back, a pair of elderly women flanked a large cat carrier perched on the chair between them.

"Mr. Reese, up here," he heard next. At the front desk was a wiry-built young man – Colin, the Vet Tech he always seemed to find there. Colin was a good man, and a damn good tech. Whenever Bear was in trouble, it seemed Colin was his good-luck charm. He glanced at Reese and tipped his head toward the rear of the office.

"Come on back with me for a minute," he said. Reese followed behind the counter and then further back into the treatment area, to a side room where they had a small compact kitchen. Colin stopped and turned around.

"Coffee?" he said.

Reese nodded. A flash of memory hit him. That same thing had happened in the same spot less than a month ago, with Gelila. She'd brought him back here to get him some coffee the night he'd brought Bear in with a broken shoulder. The two of them must have looked pretty bad to her that night. Reese remembered the look in her eyes, those blue blue eyes – concern at first, then turning to something more. He'd watched her hold back at first, cautious with him. Until her eyes gave the rest away. She said some things. He said some things. And then he found himself kissing her, right there in the kitchen.

Colin reached for the pot sitting there. He turned over one of the cups with some logo on it for dog food and poured the coffee in.

"Black, right?"

Reese nodded again. "Good memory," he said, and tipped the cup Colin's way before he took a sip.

Colin made a bit of a production out of pouring his own cup, reaching into the low refrigerator for some half-and-half, then measuring out some sugar and stirring the mixture. There was clearly something weighing on his mind.

Reese waited, his thoughts returning to what happened next after that first kiss. His eyes closed for a moment as the memory washed over him. She'd pulled him to a more private place – her Call Room in the back. At the door inside, she'd pressed against him, pushing the door closed behind them. He could still feel the softness of her skin in his hands, the feel of her lips dragging on the side of his neck to his ear. "Trust me," she'd said.

"Felt kinda bad that you hadta find out that way – about Doc Gelila, I mean." Reese flicked his eyes to Colin, who looked over the rim of his cup, sizing up his reaction. Reese didn't say anything, and the silence grew.

"I mean, the two of you – seemed – close," he stammered, not sure what the right words would be. Reese said nothing. More silence.

"It's none of my business, you know? But I think she really – felt –" and he struggled for the words. "I mean, she really liked you, Mr. Reese. I know she did. That's why it was so – strange – that she up and left like that." Colin looked puzzled and pained. Reese made his face look puzzled, too.

"She came in one day, met with the bosses, and then the next thing I know, she was saying goodbye. I don't really get it. I thought she was happy here, especially – " and he looked up pointedly to Reese, "lately." Colin stopped for a bit, sipping his coffee, and thinking.

"So, she never said anything to you, Mr. Reese? About her plans, I mean."

Reese shook his head, no. "I was out of the country, Colin. Even if she tried, she might not have gotten through." Colin thought about it and nodded. He didn't speak for a long time. Then:

"We're all pretty bummed here." He looked down into his cup. "I miss her. She was the best - to work with, I mean." Reese could see it went much deeper than just working together.

"She told me you were the one she always wanted to work with, Colin." Reese watched his eyes snap up to his.

"Really? She said that?" he said. Reese nodded. Then:

"When the two of you did the surgery on Bear that time. She said she couldn't have managed here without you." Colin smiled, his eyes picturing her saying that.

"Sounds like her. She was always saying nice things about people." Both of them were lost in thought for a while. They'd run out of things to say to each other, and the silence hung between them.

"Well, if you ever get to London, Mr. Reese, you should look her up. If you do, tell her I said – hi – OK?"

Reese nodded his head, absently. Colin put his cup down in the sink and turned away.

"I'll go back and get Bear now. Meet you at the front."

Reese finished his coffee and put the cup next to Colin's in the sink. By the time he'd made it up to the front desk, Colin was walking down the hall with Bear. As soon as he saw Reese, Bear started making noises like half-cries and half-growls. He nearly knocked Reese down wagging his body up against his legs. Reese braced himself against the front desk and reached down to scrub the back of Bear's head and around his ears with his fingers. He spoke some words, softly, in Dutch, while Colin looked on, grinning.

"This never gets old," he said, smiling at Reese. Bear was prancing and vocalizing, trying to rub his body against him, pinned against the front desk.

"Looks like he really missed you," Colin said.

Once Reese had gotten Bear to settle down, Colin handed him a printout of the charges for the Vet services and boarding. Reese peeled bills off a roll of hundred dollar bills from his front pocket, and then handed three more to Colin as a tip. Colin started to object, but Reese grabbed Bear's leash and gave the command to heel on his right side, "Rechts". Bear moved instantly to the right and stood at attention, his ears forward, waiting for more commands. Reese reached over the front desk and shook hands with Colin, then turned around to head for the door.


Bear's first night home was a busy one. He pranced at the glass doorway down at the entrance to the building, while Reese entered the code on the keypad and pushed the door open. Bear headed straight for the stairs, and they took them two at a time. At the top, Reese could see Bear knew where he was, leading him right to the door of the apartment. Bear stood with his head turned at an angle, his ears forward, waiting for Reese to open the door.

Funny how Bear's arrival seemed to change the mood. Everyone started smiling. Bear couldn't get enough head-rubs or belly-scratches as people piled into the living room to greet him. Then Reese noticed that Harold was missing. He checked down the hall and saw the light on under Harold's door. Reese waited a little longer for Harold to show, and when he didn't, Reese headed for the hallway. Bear jumped up to follow him. They walked through the kitchen, and then into the back hall where the bedrooms were located.

As they passed, Reese glanced into the room where Root was and saw Shaw adjusting the flow on one of the IV bags overhead. Bear paused at the doorway and sniffed the air in the room. His tail had started to wag when he saw Shaw, but then his eyes tracked from Shaw to the mummy bag on the bed, and concern swept across his face. He stepped into the room and sniffed the air again. You could see in his eyes that he knew something was wrong. Bear entered and moved to the side of the hospital bed, sniffing, moving closer to the bag, and sniffing again. He lifted up onto his back legs and leaned his head closer to the bag, until he could see Root's face. Then Shaw told him to get down, and he moved back to the doorway where he could keep watch. In a little while, he sat down in his guarding stance.

At the end of the hall, Reese knocked on Harold's door. He heard a muffled "enter" and swung the door open wide enough to look inside. Harold was sitting behind his desk, the light illuminating his face. He looked busy, but then when he saw it was Reese, he stopped typing and gestured for Reese to come in. "We need to talk," Harold said.

Reese closed the door behind him and sat down next to Harold's desk.

"I received a communication today. It came from overseas, routed through a secure node in London that belongs to Five Eyes." He stopped for a moment while Reese digested the information.

"Five Eyes – that was some partnership early on to share intel during World War Two?" Reese queried.

"Yes, that's right."

"I thought it would be obsolete by now – shut down."

"No, Mr. Reese, on the contrary. It proved so useful, that it has remained and expanded beyond the two original sign-ees. Five Eyes is still very much a part of the intelligence apparatus, world-wide." Reese considered the information and nodded.

"Who sent it?"

"I don't know yet, though there are clues. He appears to be a Nigerian, claims to be on the radar of someone he calls "our common foe," by which I believe he means John Greer. He claims that Greer is looking for him and means to force him to help with an intervention, as he called it."

Harold turned his laptop around so Reese could see the screen, and he played the video message from the mystery man. Reese shook his head during the video.

"I don't recognize him," he said.

"He sent this, too," and Harold showed Reese the image of Zuma Rock.

"Is that where he's hiding out?"

"He didn't say, Mr. Reese. What we have so far is a message sent from the site of this Rock in Nigeria, routed through a secure node belonging to Five Eyes, directly to me. It is possible, though unlikely, that this could be a decoy message from Greer himself. It could also be a cry for help from someone who knows he'd be exploited by Greer if he were captured. There's been no further communication since."

The two men considered the situation in silence. Then Harold looked over the top of his laptop at Reese.

"I think we have no choice but to investigate, Mr. Reese. And the sooner, the better. As he said, it may already be too late."

Reese nodded, frowning. Then he got up and headed for the door.

"I hope you can get more to go on, Finch – that's a big rock to search," he said.

"Working on it," Harold replied.

Clearing, north of Abuja, Nigeria

"So, here is the dilemma, my dear boy. My colleague and I came all this way to meet an old friend." Greer had removed his jacket, unbuttoned the cuffs on both sides, and then began rolling up his sleeves. Olawale sat in a chair with each of his legs tied to a front leg of the chair, and his arms tied behind him, to one of the rails underneath. Kara Stanton stood in the background, watching.

"But instead of our friend, dear boy, we found you, masquerading as him. Why would someone do such a thing? Take the name and the image of an older man? My colleague and I – even your students – were convinced." Greer paced slowly around Olawale, who stared straight ahead.

"We need answers – and I think you know there is nothing now that will prevent us from getting them." Greer reached down to Olawale's shirt, damp from sweat, and ripped it open. He jerked it away from Olawale's ribs and then pushed against the dark bruising there with his forearm. Olawale moaned in pain as he collapsed forward in his seat.

"I warned you once before, my dear boy, that things could go very badly for you. Take my word for it – you're not up to this. Save yourself from any more – convincing. Tell us now who you are, and where to find Olawale." Greer waited, but when Olawale said nothing, he raised his fist to strike.

"You ah too late! Years too late!" the young man spat out. Greer lowered his fist.

"Tell us!"

"Olawale died in prison. Years ago. He went in and no one ever heard from him again. He's dead," the young man said.

"And so you took his place?" Greer challenged.

"Why not? He made a good living. He had powah, prestige." Greer stepped away for a minute, thinking.

"When did Olawale go to prison?"

"Five years ago, maybe more. I don't know."

"And when did you show up?"

"A couple of years ago, aftah everyone forgot about him. I re-stahted the business, recruited the students, convinced everyone I was him."

Olawale watched Greer's eyes. The ice-blue eyes gave nothing away. Loose skin gathered in folds, like a hood hiding each one. His face was stone, impenetrable. Perhaps this ruse could buy some time – create enough doubt that Greer would need to check the details. Olawale could only pray that his message had been received, and that Harold Finch would come to find him. Greer was right. If this got physical, Olawale was not up to this. All he could do was use his wits, try to stay one step ahead.

Greer stood in front of him, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his eyes boring into Olawale's. In a deep, resonant voice he said:

"And, just for the record, you are?"

Safe-house, Mid-town Manhattan

"Heard you were heading out tonight," Shaw said. She was standing in the doorway of the living room. They were alone there, the two of them. Reese was sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. Shaw leaned against the frame of the doorway. She saw his bags by the front door, packed and ready to go – a suitcase, and a duffel bag she'd never seen before.

"Harold wants me to check something out for him."

"Long way to go to check something out," she said.

"Well, you know how it goes. You go where the job sends you." She nodded and started to turn away, but then looked back to Reese.

"You know I'd be going, too, if I didn't have this." Shaw tipped her head in the direction of Root.

"How's she doing?"

"Her temp is up. Just waiting to see what we've got when she wakes up." With that, Shaw turned away and back toward Root's room. Reese watched her go and then noticed Bear in the shadows. He must have followed Shaw out of the room. He ambled in and jumped up on the couch next to Reese, laying his head down on Reese's thigh. Bear swiveled his eyes toward Reese and took a noisy breath.

Reese leaned back against the high back of the couch. He raised his glass to his lips and resumed sipping whiskey from it. The only sound was Bear's soft breathing.

There was still some time before he'd be catching a ride to JFK and Harold's jet. The flight team had already been scrambled, while the jet was being readied. He didn't relish a long trip back over the Atlantic. Bear seemed to sense his feelings. He nudged his head under Reese's free hand. Reese turned his attention to Bear and scrubbed his fingers on the top of Bear's head and around his ears.

It reminded him. The last time he'd sat like this with Bear, they were in Gelila's apartment, just before he left for Italy. Seemed like months ago. He'd gone to pick up Bear and bring him home, but plans changed once he'd arrived. She'd knocked against his sore ribs, and saw him react. Then she'd insisted on seeing what was wrong. Getting shot in his vest left a bruise with a burn mark in the center. One for each of the bullets Kara Stanton had fired at Harold. It was the only way he could keep Harold alive – use himself as a human shield.

He remembered the look on Gelila's face. That mix of pain and disbelief, anger, pity. It was all in there and he regretted ever letting her see him like that. But Gelila doesn't take no for an answer. And maybe, deep down, he'd wanted to know, know for himself if she could take it. She'd seemed different, somehow. Strong, determined. A little like Shaw, but with more emotion.

At first, when he saw her face, he'd thought no – he'd lost her. She'd point him to the door and send him away. He'd learned to expect this through the years. But then in her eyes, her blue blue eyes, he could see something else. She knew what this was. She'd seen it before.

And that changed everything.

Instead of pointing him to the door, she'd reached her arm over and pulled him closer. She'd let her lips drag over the skin of his neck. He could still feel the feeling, even now.

"Stay," she'd said.