Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team. Bolded sections are straight from the episodes.
QUEENSBRIDGE PARK
Chapter 6: after Trojan Horse
"Take care, Monica."
"You too, Harold."
With a final nod of farewell at Reese, their latest Number walks away from the mysterious duo who had saved her career and, more importantly, her life.
Already planning which department he could put her in charge of at IFT, Finch watches her retreating back. The corners of his mouth twitching upward, Reese glances at the billionaire.
"You're going to miss her, aren't you, Finch?"
The slight smile on Finch's face disappears as he glances up at Reese. "I would if I had time. As it is, there's a matter we need to discuss." They turn and begin walking in the opposite direction. "The night we broke into Rylatech, I recognized some of the encrypted code in the spy's network. It had a signature similar to that virus that Stanton uploaded. I was able to crack the virus's code and learn two things."
"I'm all ears, Finch," Reese rasps tensely, his eyes continuing to scan their surroundings as they move at a leisurely pace down the street.
"First, only a fraction of the stolen data made it to the Chinese government. The rest went to another organization. I believe they may have placed the final call to Baxter. I dug further, but all I could come up with was a name: Decima Technologies."
"And the second thing?"
"Whoever Decima is, I believe they created the virus to find and infect a single target." Finch stops and turns to look at Reese. "The Machine."
Finch takes three steps before Reese begins to move again. The virus Kara had uploaded is like a puzzle they're still finding pieces for, and the big picture is turning out to be much more complicated than either of them expected.
Reese and Finch spend the next few hours fixing up the condo that serves as their newest safehouse. Namely, Reese unpacks the still-boxed fixtures, assembling and situating them under Finch's supervision.
"It looks fine here, Finch," Reese says in exasperation as he holds a framed print up to the wall.
"And just how are you planning to put a nail in a brick wall, Mr. Reese?" Finch demands.
Reese reaches over to the toolbox and grabs a hammer. "I've put nails through things harder than bricks, Finch," he says with a smirk. Finch doesn't know whether he's telling the truth or merely teasing.
Finch takes the print and, after giving it an appraising look, puts it aside. "Never mind, I'm not sure I like it anyway."
"Didn't you pick out all this stuff, Finch?" Reese asks, looking with distaste at a figurine standing near one of the windows.
"If you're asking whether I spent hours scanning online catalogs while you were out saving Numbers —"
"Did you?"
"Certainly not!"
"Because I doubt our Numbers will care what this place looks like, as long as no one's trying to paint the walls with their blood."
"As … vivid as that visual is, Mr. Reese, I don't think red would be the right color scheme for this space, considering all the exposed brick. I was thinking we could paint the walls a nice eggshell to keep things light but still pick up all the wood detail …" Something in Reese's face — or perhaps the slightly tighter grip he has on the hammer — causes Finch to quickly add, "But that's a job for another day. I think we could all use a break, get some fresh air?"
Reese narrows his eyes at Finch's overly casual air, but the billionaire pretends he can't feel the hard gaze boring into his back as he snaps Bear's leash onto the dog's collar and walks him toward the door.
"Aren't you coming, Mr. Reese?" Finch asks as he shrugs into his coat and sees the ex-CIA agent hasn't moved.
"Is Sunday the only day we can take Bear for a walk in the park?" Reese asks, twirling the hammer between his fingers.
"No," Finch concedes, "and there are dozens of other parks we could take him to. But as it is Sunday and we have the time, I don't see why we shouldn't take Bear for a walk in Queensbridge Park." He raises an eyebrow. "Do you?"
Without waiting for an answer, he opens the door and walks out with Bear. After a moment, Reese grabs his coat and hurries to catch up.
Kenneth Parker hits the gas as soon as the gate of the hospital begins to rise, the roof of his Audi barely clearing the rising wooden slat as he zooms past.
"Ken!" protests Elena, turning around in the passenger seat to make sure they had cleared it. The rapidly shrinking security guard is standing outside of his booth, yelling obscenities at Ken's taillights.
"We have twenty minutes to get to the hotel," snaps Ken, barely decelerating as he makes a turn. "We're sitting at the mayor's table, Elena! Why couldn't we put off visiting your grandmother until tomorrow?"
Elena can feel her anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. "You know I visit my grandmother every Sunday, Ken. They say it helps to have a routine, so of course I had to go tod— KEN, STOP!"
The car comes to a sudden, screeching stop as Ken slams on the brakes. The front bumper stops a couple of feet away from a young family, who stand frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. After a moment, the parents, glaring daggers at Ken, are able to coax their three children to start moving toward the park again.
"S-Sorry," Ken calls out weakly, raising his hand out the window to acknowledge fault. "Jesus fucking Christ, that was close," he mutters to Elena. "Are you all right?"
Only, she's no longer there.
The loud screech of brakes quickly engaging and tires skidding along the pavement cuts through the air. Finch lowers the newspaper he's reading, and Reese stops mid-throw, the hand not holding Bear's tennis ball reaching automatically for the handgun tucked in the waistband of his pants.
But there's no team of hitmen jumping out of a big black SUV, only Elena Cassidy slamming the door of a silver Audi coupe and stalking away in four-inch heels.
"Where the hell are you going?" demands the driver, a man with perfectly coiffed blond hair whom Reese recognizes from Fusco's photos as Elena's boyfriend.
"Not to that stupid fundraiser!" she yells over her shoulder.
People give her fleeting, yet curious glances as she storms across the park. Everyone else is dressed for the weather, in boots and winter coats, hats and gloves. Her legs are bare from above the knee down, and the cold already is biting through the flimsy material of her blue coat, picked for its appearance, not its warmth. She pushes aside a lock of her meticulously straightened hair as her furious strides upset her precarious updo.
She's vaguely headed for a quieter section of the park close to the bridge, where she and John had played with Bailey and Bear last week. There's a lone bench in that area where they had sat while taking a break, and right now nothing seems more appealing than sitting there in the cold and staring out at the half-frozen river.
"Elena! Lenie!"
Ken runs up and puts himself directly in her path, forcing her to stop short.
"Get out of my way," she snaps.
"We don't have time for this," he says impatiently. "We have to go —"
"I'm not going anywhere!"
"Elena, you helped organize the damn thing. I'm one of the mayor's aides. How is it going to look if we're not there?"
"I. Don't. Care," she bites out. "You go, since it means so much to you!" She steps off the path to get around him, ignoring the pain as her heel sinks into the grass and she rolls her ankle.
"You're acting like a child!" Ken calls to her retreating back.
She knows she should keep walking instead of allowing herself to be pulled back into the argument, but she's beyond calm, rational thought. She whirls around and stomps back toward him.
"Maybe it's because this fucking fundraiser means so much to you that you nearly ran over children to get to it! Or that you grudge me the little time I get to spend with my grandmother just so you can kiss the mayor's ass!"
"Your grandmother doesn't even remember who you are!"
Elena feels as if he'd just punched her in the gut. She stands there, gaping at him stupidly, trying to find the words, the air to come up with some sort of reply. She backs away from him, and he automatically reaches out and grasps her arm, terrified as the shock and hurt in her eyes coalesces into something close to hatred.
"Lenie, I didn't—"
"Hey." A heavy hand falls on Ken's shoulder and pushes him backward, away from Elena. "I'd let her go if I were you."
The 'or else' is implied.
Elena stares blankly at a pair of broad shoulders because somehow, out of somewhere, John has appeared and is now standing between her and Ken.
Ken releases her but doesn't back away from John's menacing form, instead pulling himself up to his full height so that they're standing nose to nose. "I appreciate your concern, sir, but this is a matter between me and my girlfriend."
"Elena?" Reese finally asks, eyes still locked on Ken.
Ken's eyebrows rise in surprise.
"It's fine, John."
Ken's triumph is spoiled by his uncertainty, eyes flicking suspiciously from the tall, dark-haired man in the suit, to the little he can see of his girlfriend standing behind her unexpected knight in besuited armor. But he refuses to give in to his jealousy and ask how they know each other. "Now that we're quite clear on that, do you mind if we go?" he asks coolly.
Finch, standing nearby with Bear's leash in hand, tenses as the two men continue to glare at each other. What they certainly don't need at this moment is for Reese to pull out his gun and shoot Elena Cassidy's boyfriend in the kneecaps in broad daylight in the middle of a public park. He moves to intervene when Reese takes half a step forward, but Elena reaches out and grasps the back of Reese's coat. He pauses, then unexpectedly steps aside.
"Let's go, Lenie," Ken says softly.
She frowns at the hand he's holding out to her. "No," she says, sounding almost surprised at her answer.
"What?"
Her gaze turns steely. "I'm not going anywhere," she says in a voice of terrible calm, "not with you."
Ken gapes at her for a few moments before animation returns, and he jerks back his hand. "Fine," he snaps. "Maybe John here can give you a ride home. Maybe he can give you a job, too, after Quinn fires you for not showing up!" He turns and strides away without another glance back, throwing himself into his car and revving the engine loudly before streaking off down the street.
Elena watches as the silver Audi zips out of sight across the Queensboro Bridge. There's an odd sort of ringing in her ears as Ken's words echo in her mind.
She doesn't even remember who you are.
"Please, I really don't want to talk about it," she says wearily when she turns and sees John and Harold standing there. She holds her hand out. "May I have it?"
Harold's confused, but John understands. He places Bear's tennis ball on her palm, and the next second, she hurls it from her with as much force as she can muster.
Bear soars across the park to capture the Yellow Orb and bring it back to Pretty Lady, who seems to be in some sort of disguise because her hair isn't wavy today. But no disguise can fool Bear. He knows Pretty Lady smells like rose water and coffee and Bailey.
John lets her play a rather aggressive version of fetch with Bear until all of her hair has fallen loose from its pins, Harold's nose is a bright red, and he can't feel the tips of his own ears. When her anger and adrenaline has faded away, and he catches her shivering, Reese commands the dog to deliver the ball to him instead of her, which Bear promptly does, though somewhat reluctantly.
"Don't you think that's enough for —?"
"Dutch!" she says, looking up in surprise. Reese and Finch share half a glance. She gives John a bemused look. "Why did you teach Bear commands in Dutch?"
"He, uh, came like that," Reese answers truthfully, leading the way out of the park.
Finch quickly follows up with, "You seem to have a good ear for languages, Miss Cassidy," since she's looking more than a little curious about Bear's origins.
"Well, I studied the Dutch artists when I was in college. Wrote my thesis on them, actually."
"Oh?" Finch prompts, encouraging the conversation in that direction as Reese unlocks the car and holds the door open for Elena.
She gives Finch an appraising glance as she slides into the passenger seat, trying to gauge if he's really interested or merely being polite. "I was an art history major. And no, there's not much you can do with an art history degree these days, but memorizing names and dates comes in handy when you're a secretary."
"Are you an artist yourself?"
She shrugs. "Not really, but I can draw up table arrangements like nobody's business. I did tonight's fundraiser that Ken and I were fighting about, and fitting 300 people into that tiny ballroom at the Coronet required some very creative arrangements."
"The Coronet's ballroom fits 325," Finch objects.
There's a moment of shocked silence until a surprised laugh escapes Elena. "You sound like you own the place, Harold."
"Yeah, Harold," Reese agrees, glaring at Finch via the rearview mirror.
"We held our company holiday party there last year, remember, John?" Finch says smoothly.
"Oh. Yeah."
"The mayor's held many events there in the past few years, but this was the first I was in charge of."
Reese glances at her. "I could turn around, get you there in time for the main course?" he offers.
She shakes her head. "Thank you, but home is fine. And when we get there, we can have some coffee, Bear and Bailey can play, and we can discuss about how I'm going to pay for that car, Harold."
"I assure you, Miss Cassidy, that is completely unnecessary—"
"For you, perhaps, but not for me," she says with a determined nod. "If you insist on giving expensive gifts, Mr. Wren, you're going to have some strings attached, whether you like it or not."
Finch starts to say something but can't seem to find the words to dissuade her without sounding churlish. He throws a look of helplessness at Reese, who merely smirks as he expertly maneuvers the car into an empty space half a block away from Elena's house.
"We hate to impose," Finch begins.
"By drinking some coffee?" Elena asks, eyes twinkling as she takes Bear by the leash and begins to lead the way. "I'm told I make a really good cup, but I can badly brew some tea, if that's what you prefer." Finch looks at her in askance. "You hardly drank any of the coffee we had that one day at the park," she explains.
"Sencha green's his favorite," Reese supplies.
"I think I only have earl grey."
"All the same, isn't it?"
They share a look of perfect agreement before Bear begins tugging at his leash, pulling Elena down the street with him.
"What are we doing here, Mr. Reese?" Finch demands in an undertone.
"Being friendly," Reese replies, maddeningly nonchalant.
"We are acquaintances with Miss Cassidy for Bear's sake, not our own."
"He seems happy enough."
The conversation is postponed as they reach Elena's house. She's standing at the gate, one hand resting on the latch but making no move to open it. Reese is instantly on his guard, striding forward to meet whatever danger lays beyond —
Kenneth Parker slowly gets to his feet, his suit slightly wrinkled and dusty from sitting on the steps leading up to her front door. They stare at each other cautiously.
"You're here," she states, uncomprehending. "You didn't go to the fundraiser."
He gives her a look of exasperated affection. "Of course not, Lenie. Not without you."
She refuses to give in easily. "And what about your career?" she demands, crossing her arms across her chest. "The mayor —"
"Can fetch his own damn champagne."
Elena bites her lip as she surveys her boyfriend. She still is angry at him, furious if she lets herself be. And yet ... being asked to sit at the mayor's table at his fundraiser had meant everything to him ...
"It's getting late," Harold begins, startling her out of her thoughts.
Remembering they're not alone, Elena turns to face John and Harold, but Ken is already moving forward.
"Yes," he agrees briskly, holding his hand out to Harold. "Thank you for seeing Elena safely home, and I apologize for any inconvenience we've caused you today."
She bristles slightly when he speaks for her. It's a reaction so subtle that Ken doesn't notice, but for some reason she just knows John does. She chances a glance at him. He standing much closer than she anticipates, and she has to tilt her head back to look at him. He's looking at her with that startlingly genuine and piercing concern.
She's certain in that moment that John gets her more than Ken does ... which is absurd considering they've met fewer times than she can count on one hand, she doesn't even know his last name, and she's been dating Ken for five years. And yet ...
"Thank you for the ride," she hears herself saying mechanically.
John takes Bear's leash, his larger hand unnecessarily encompassing her own as he does. He presses her hand briefly.
"See you next Sunday."
Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, but she hides it by nodding. "Of course. See you then."
Ken's hand is outstretched, insisting to be shaked, so John drops hers and obliges, squeezing harder than necessary. Refusing to give him the satisfaction, Ken doesn't wince, though his smile is rather fixed, and he wastes no time ushering Elena inside.
He helps her out of her coat and hangs it up for her, tutting over how cold she is and declaring he's going to make her some tea to warm her up. She tolerates his fussing and doesn't even bother to remind him that she hates tea as he disappears into the kitchen. But before she can so much as glance at the piece of paper John had slipped into her hand, Ken's head pokes into the hallway again.
"I didn't mean what I said about your grandmother, Lane. Truly. I was being a complete ass."
"Yes, you were," she agrees. "But let's just put it behind us, all right?"
He nods and disappears again, only to reappear a half second later.
"I know she's the only family you have left, but ... you've got me, too, Lenie." He nervously fiddles with a tea bag. "You know that, right?"
She smiles. "Of course, you sappy idiot."
He returns her smile, relieved and reassured. She disappears into her bedroom to change, but she merely sinks onto the mattress and finally figures out what it is that John had given her. She quickly hides it behind her back as the door opens, but it's just Bailey, who lopes over and rests his head on her lap.
"Well, what do you think of that, old boy?" she asks, showing him the slip of paper.
"We need to find out what we can about Kenneth Parker," Reese says as they drive back to Midtown. "I don't trust that guy."
Finch doesn't bother to point out that very few people would fall under the 'People John Reese Trusts' category. "And yet you trust Miss Cassidy enough to give her your phone number?"
"At least I didn't give her a car."
Finch glares. "Kenneth Parker is no threat. I did an audit of his personal finances after we saw those photos Detective Fusco took. He has no suspicious transactions or anything to connect him to HR. I believe he is ignorant of any of the illegal activity occurring in his office." Reese grunts grudgingly. "So as much as you would enjoy dangling him from the top of City Hall, I'm afraid you'll have to find another reason to do so." He picks his next words carefully. "The biggest threat I can see to Elena Cassidy is any contact with us beyond chance encounters at a park."
Reese doesn't reply, and the silence continues as park near the safehouse. Reese's phone beeps as they walk into the condo. He gives it the briefest glances before returning it to his jacket pocket, slipping off his suit, and rolling up his sleeves.
"All right, where do you want this thing?" he asks, eyeing a big decorative clock propped up against the wall.
"Let's put the side table there and put the clock on top of it."
As Reese does as instructed, Finch surreptitiously checks his own phone, which had vibrated at the same time Reese's had beeped.
Doggie danishes are on me next week. -E
"Maybe she's going to pay you back for the car in dog treats, Harold." Caught red-handed, Finch nearly drops his phone. Reese smirks. "Figured if she had Harold Wren's number, she could have mine as well."
"That is ... completely a different ... there's no danger of a romantic interest developing between Miss Cassidy and myself!" Finch splutters.
"Don't worry, I'm not falling in love with her, Finch."
"No," Finch concedes. "But I'm not so sure about her."
