Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team. Bolded sections are straight from the episodes.


QUEENSBRIDGE PARK

Chapter 17: mid Endgame


"I couldn't figure out at first why you didn't read me into this thing, why you cut me out," Fusco confronts Carter about her investigation of HR, as they stand on the sidewalk outside his apartment. "Then I realized you still don't trust me. I get it. I guess there's a certain stink you really can't wash off."

"That's not it, Fusco," Carter shakes her head. "But I know how hard it was for you to get out from underneath HR. Anything goes wrong, you're the first guy they're gonna come for. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me by keeping me in the dark?" He gives her a disappointed look. "I thought we were partners."

"We are. That's why I'm here now," Carter says, holding up a key.

"What's this?"

"It's to a safe deposit box at the One State Bank in Hoboken. Inside is everything I collected on HR. Recordings, money trails, everything." Carter sighs. "I'm about to get an arrest warrant for Quinn."

"Then what?"

"Then I'm going to arrest him." She says it so simply, as if arresting the head of HR was something you did every day. "But if anything happens ... I need you to hold on to that."

Fusco shakes his head. "No."

"No what?" she demands.

"No way you're going to come here with this 'If anything happens to me' crap."

"Lionel, you're the only person in the world I trust with this. Plus," she adds, "you're the best partner I ever had."

Fusco struggles with his emotions for a moment. "If you think I'm gonna let you take down Quinn by yourself after coming here and saying something like that, you got another thing coming."

Carter smiles slightly. "Okay. We'll take your car, but I'm driving." She takes the keys Fusco hands over. "Oh, you might want to get your vest," she realizes.

"Let me grab it," he says, turning back to his apartment.

"You know what? Grab your 12-gauge, too," she suggests.

"All right."

She waits until he disappears inside.

"Sorry, Fusco. But I gotta do this one alone."

She tosses his keys into some nearby bushes and darts into her car.


"Holy shit! Joss! You scared the crap out of me."

Bailey trots over to the figure sitting at Elena's kitchen table. Carter pets the golden retriever.

"You know, for the kid of a cop, your security is pretty lax," Carter says disapprovingly.

"I take my security with me," Elena says, indicating Bailey.

"This sweetheart?"

"Looks can be deceiving."

Carter nods. "That's what I'm counting on."

She lifts up a laundry basket full of catalogued HR evidence and places it on the table.

"I told Fusco that I put all of that in a safe deposit box in Hoboken and gave him the key. But they're going to come looking for him, and if they get him ..."

Elena looks worried for Lionel, but she nods. "You can't risk this falling into their hands."

"And no one ever suspects the pretty receptionist. We've been careful. No one should be able to trace you to me. So if something happens to me —"

"What do you think might happen to you?"

Carter just gives her a look. Elena gives her a helpless one.

"So if something happens to me," Carter repeats, "you hold onto this. Read Fusco in, tell him everything. He's the only one I trust with this. If he's forced to give up the box, I've left a clue there that only he can figure out. 'EMC'."

"My initials," Elena realizes. "Lionel probably doesn't even remember my middle name."

"It'll come to him. He's a detective through and through."

After a moment, Elena places a hand on the bin. "I'll guard it with my life."

"I hope it doesn't come to that. But if it does ..." Carter pulls a gun out and holds it out to her.

"Joss, I don't —"

"Your dad was a cop. Don't tell me you don't know how to use one of these," she says, laying a couple of magazines down on the table.

After a moment's hesitation, Elena expertly slides in one mag and checks the gun's safety. Joss nods approvingly.

"And if you can't reach me or Fusco, you go to this apartment. It's a safehouse."

Elena takes the card and reads the address. "Are you sure we can trust the cops there?" she asks.

"It's not NYPD. It's ... an off-the-books one run by a couple of friends. You can trust them. Their names are John and Harold."

Elena freezes. No. It has to be coincidence.

Right?

She has to know.

"Okay, this might sound really weird," she warns, "but ... do John and Harold ... own a dog named Bear?"

Part of Elena is gratified to see the look of shock on the ever cool, ever in control Joss Carter's face. The other part is reeling at the confirmation that they're talking about the same John and Harold.

"You know them?" Carter frowns. "How? Have they been bothering you?" She shakes her head. "I should have known, why else would John have been following you that day?"

"John was following me?" Elena repeats. "When?"

"The day you took the files from City Hall."

"He was the one in the alley? Wait, I'm so confused."

"How do you know them, Elena?"

"I ... we're just ... acquaintances!"

"Acquaintances?" Carter repeats in disbelief. "John and Harold don't have 'acquaintances'."

"We meet at the park sometimes!" Elena explains. "Queensbridge Park, Sunday afternoons."

"You meet up with them at the park every week?"

"And Bear," Elena adds hastily. She points at Bailey. "The dogs play. We talk." Bailey barks in agreement.

"And what do you talk about?"

"Nothing, really. Definitely not this!" she says, pointing at the bin. "You know, random things. The weather."

So Elena Cassidy has a standing doggie playdate in the park with John and Finch, and makes small talk with them? Carter thought nothing could surprise her at this point, but apparently she's wrong.

"I'm guessing they don't work in insurance?" Elena asks in a small voice.

Carter scoffs. "Is that what they told you?"

"I looked up their company, Universal Heritage Insurance. Harold Wren's an underwriter there. It all checked out."

"And what does John do?"

"He tracks down the people who have hurt their clients."

"That's one way of putting it," Carter admits. "And I don't suppose John gave you his last name?"

Elena pauses. She hadn't looked up John because she hadn't known his last name when she'd Googled Harold. He'd told her his name after ... after they'd kissed, after she'd agreed to marry Ken, after she'd tried to put all thoughts of her mysterious friend from the park out of her mind.

"He did."

Carter raises her eyebrows expectantly.

"Reese."

Carter pauses, surprised. She knows 'Reese' is not his real name, but it was the name he used with those closest to him. Strange that Finch had given her one of his other aliases, but John had not. She glances at Elena, seeing her in a new light. Maybe not so strange. Interesting.

No one ever suspects the pretty receptionist.

"So, who are they really?" Elena asks.

"I've been trying to figure that out for as long as I've known them," Carter admits. "They ... help people. They have a sixth sense for knowing when someone might be in trouble, and they try to save them, or stop the bad guys from trying to hurt them. All in secret."

Elena stares at Joss. "So, they're what? ... Superheroes?"

Carter smiles as she stands. "I didn't say that. I think John would enjoy that comparison too much. But I do feel a little better leaving you with all this if they've already got an eye on you. If you get in trouble, you can tell them about this, too."

"But —"

"I know you've got more questions, but I have to go."

"Please be careful, Joss."

"You, too, Elena."

Elena looks at Bailey once Joss slips out into the shadows. "Okay, I wasn't expecting that. Were you, Bails?" she asks the golden retriever as she tries to figure out the best place to hide the HR evidence.

She tucks the gun Carter had given her in the back of her pants, and feels just a tiny bit badass as she takes the bin up to her bedroom. Bailey follows her up the stairs.

"I mean, definitely not this," she continues, indicating the bin. "But John being Batman? Come on. I've never even seen him wearing anything but a ... suit."

Elena nearly drops the organized bin of evidence. "Oh my God, Bailey," she whispers. "He's the one the cops are always talking about. John's the Man in the Suit!"