Chapter Two
It had been hours since Chen had arrived, Dembe not too far behind him. He'd left to check on Agnes who had been safely tucked away with his daughter and granddaughter. The little girl was fussy and agitated at being uprooted from her routine, but safe. It was more than could be said for her father. Dembe's silence said more than any vocalized judgement could have.
Or perhaps it was just the truth of the moment. Red had made a judgement call in which he didn't have expertise to make.
"He's stubborn," Dembe said quietly, his first words in hours.
Reddington loosed a long breath. "I'm aware. That's how we landed in this mess."
"I mean that he will pull through. He's stubborn. He will not leave her."
Those dark eyes were fixed on him, wisdom beyond his years in them, and Red swallowed hard. "I hope you're right," he admitted very, very softly. "For her sake."
A knock came at the door and Dembe moved to open in. Dr Chen stood on the other side. The man looked tired. "We've stabilized him."
"Wonderful news. How soon can we -?"
Dembe swivelled, not bothering to hide his discomfort at the question. Chen was the one that answered. "I think you should see for yourself."
"He's awake then?"
Chen didn't answer, but motioned for Reddington to follow after him.
Lomay was still onsite and working with her patient. She had him following a light as Red and Dembe entered, his gaze struggling and his jaw tightly clenched. She looked over and frowned. "All the answers we promised," she said softly and started for the door, her voice quiet as she spoke to Reddington. "He's confused and agitated. Please don't make it worse."
"I'll do my best not to," Reddington promised and was left with a clear path to the bed.
Tom's dark blue eyes did their best to focus on him as he drew closer. There was something hard in them. Something he hadn't seen in many years now. Only the slightest bit of confusion managed to creep in just behind the walls. "You're Raymond Reddington."
The statement stopped Red in his tracks. "I am," he answered carefully. "Do you know where you are?"
The injured man was studying him intently as if he were looking for any sign of the answer that was expected. Anything to give him an edge.
He had no idea where he was, that much was clear.
"Do you know what day it is?"
"Your doctor asked me the same thing."
"That's not an answer, Tom."
The confusion finally won out, breaking through that dangerous glare and Tom tilted his head slightly against his pillow, jaw setting in a small tell of irritation. Any other day Reddington would have been in his element with the balance of knowledge in his direction, but not now. There was something very wrong in what was unfolding, and Tom's slow, guarded response only made it worse.
"I don't know who that is."
"Tom Keen. That name doesn't ring any bells?"
"Should it?"
Reddington looked back to the door where the doctors lingered with Dembe, but his attention was pulled back around as Tom started trying to sit up in bed. He reached out, ready to guide him back down, and Tom's hand flashed out, catching him by the wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong for the obvious pain that he was in. "Where the hell am I?"
"Easy. It was the alias you gave when I hired you." A truth. And one that seemed to help ease some of the fight or flight instinct.
Tom eased back against the pillows again. "You hired me?"
"Yes."
"And then what? I can't remember."
"You were injured. My people are taking care of you."
The machine sounded an alert that the pain medication was being pushed. Tom was already fighting it. "McCready. Does he -?"
"Everything's been taken care of," Reddington assured him and he hated hearing the strain in his own voice. Tom didn't seem to notice, though. He was losing focus as the medication flooded his system. His eyelids drooped and the tenseness in his muscles eased as he was pulled back to sleep.
"He's lost time," Lomay said quietly from behind him, her voice tense. "How much, we can't be sure."
"Years." Before Elizabeth had met him. Before he'd become Tom Keen. This man - Jacob Phelps, he supposed - thought he belonged in a world where Bill McCready was still alive and hiring him out as his best operative. "Can it be reversed?"
"I don't know. This isn't my area." Lomay pulled in a breath. "We believe it's prudent to treat his injuries. Let him rebuild his strength. Eric and I will consult with Andrei and his people, but we don't believe it would be wise to allow them direct treatment at this time. They could easily do more harm than good."
"Understood," Reddington said quietly, his mind spinning. With effort, he shoved it down and turned a sharp look on Chen. "Fix this."
He didn't give the younger man a chance to respond before stalking out of the room.
His world was in fragments. Pieces of memories that felt like they were just out of grasp. A voice. A name. A pair of blue eyes that reminded him of the sky and the retreating laugh that left him cold when it was gone.
Everything hurt. He was in a hospital of some form or fashion and every time he opened his eyes they asked him a million questions. What day was it? He didn't know. What was his name? He had no idea which one they wanted. Age? Twenty-four. That one he had. That one they could gauge for themselves.
Or not. The one answer he gave them seemed to be what caused them the most pause.
"Let's try this," the lady doctor said, her voice irritatingly gentle. "What year is it?"
He squeezed his eyes closed, the throbbing just behind them intensifying. "Two-thousand…. Eight." Right? That sounded right.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"A list of really pointless questions," he snapped.
She jotted down a note in a file. "Okay. I'm going to say a few names and I want you to tell me if you know them. Can you do that for me?"
The longer this went on, the more suspicious he became. He had the vaguest memory of someone coming in and telling him he'd been injured on a job, but he couldn't recall who it was or if he'd even said how he'd been injured. He certainly hadn't been given a chance to reach out to Bud or call in an extraction. This wasn't how St Regis operated. He should be in his own medical facilities in Upstate New York, not wherever the hell he'd been dropped. None of this made any sense and he was tired of playing this woman's game on her terms. "How about this? I give you an answer, you give me one."
She considered that a moment before giving a brief nod. "I think we can manage that. First name -" she looked down at her file - "Elizabeth Keen."
"I don't know who that is. My question: full list of my injuries."
To her credit, she didn't hesitate as she flipped through her notes. "GSW to the left shoulder that someone dug out before we saw you. Three stab wounds to the left side, one that nicked your lung and was torn more by exertion. And, of course, memory loss. That's the reason we're going through these questions."
"Concussion?"
"No."
"Then how -?"
"It's my turn." He blinked at the tone. "Agnes Keen."
"I don't know any Keens. Happy? If it wasn't a blow to the head, how am I missing time?"
"That's complicated."
"Didn't realize there were rules to this."
"I'm not at liberty to answer that one. Next -"
"No."
"I'm just trying to help you."
"Then get me a phone."
"I can't do that."
"There's a lot you can't do, isn't there?" he snapped and was halfway on his elbows when the pain ripped through him and sent him tumbling back. Black spots danced across his vision.
"... Keen? Mr Keen, can you hear me?"
"Told you. I don't know any Keens," Jacob muttered as his eyes slipped closed again.
Best he could tell he'd been there at least a week. Maybe longer. He could feel at least some of his strength returning, but as it did he found that they were keeping him sedated when there wasn't someone in the room peppering him with questions. All that did was solidify his original suspicion that he was in unfriendly territory. They'd done this to him. Why was still up for grabs, but if he was going to put money on it he would bet that they were fishing for specific intel and burying the lead in the neverending line of questions every time he pried his eyes open. If they didn't get it - or even if they did - he wouldn't be useful to them much longer. He needed to get out.
The constant sedation was his biggest problem. Even when he was awake he was groggy, and even if he could manipulate the interrogation to keep it going long enough to clear his head he wasn't sure he was capable of fighting his way out. He could probably take the doctors, but he had no idea what was on the other side of that door. No, he had to outthink them. Good thing he'd always been good at that.
He took the latest round of questions as long as he could, fingers carefully groping for the IV that pushed the medication into his veins that put him under as the doctors left. More names, dates, questions. They were obsessed with these people: Elizabeth and Agnes. There were others that popped up a few times. They asked him if he'd ever worked for Raymond Reddington or if the name Berlin meant anything to him.
Jacob heard the telltale sound of the machine to the side pushing medication and he tightened his fingers around the tube under the sheet. "I take it we're done?"
Dr Cho offered a small smile as he stood. "You need rest."
"When you're done with me, what do you plan to do?"
"You're safe here. We're not going to hurt you."
Funny, he sounded like he almost believed that. Jacob forced his breathing to even out and his eyes to slip heavily closed. All the signs that he was being pulled under. He waited, listening to the retreating footsteps, and then he waited some more. Finally he let his eyes slide open carefully, peering out into the room from beneath dark lashes. He was alone. Good.
His injuries were far from healed and he felt them pull as he reached to remove the IV from his hand. He unhooked the equipment using all the tricks he'd learned as a teenager when he'd decided he was bored of the medical wing after an injury in the field. It remained silent as he made his way gingerly to the window, pulling at the heavy curtain there to get an idea where he was.
It was dark outside. Well that was a plus. The fact that he was on the second floor didn't help his escape though. Alright then. Hallway it was.
Jacob padded his way to the door, bare feet silent against the tile floor, and he supposed he should at least be grateful his captors had left him in a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. He might want to find a pair of shoes before he made his way out to the street, though. That way he didn't draw too much attention.
The hallway was blessedly empty and he took off towards what looked like a stairwell. The sound of a respirator drew his attention to a partially closed door. He wasn't the only person they were keeping here. Interesting.
He pressed his fingers lightly against the door, letting it swing open a little more to see a woman in the bed. Jacob inched forward to get a better look. There was something about her, but he couldn't quite catch hold of what it was. Dark hair spilled out across the pillow, eyes closed, skin pale, and the respirator forced air into her lungs. His gaze traveled down to see a ring on her left hand. He didn't know he was reaching for the limp fingers until he touched them and he felt his breath catch.
And just like that the spell broke.
Jacob jerked his hand back, hissing in pain at the quick movement. He had to get out of this place. Nothing made sense here and if he didn't get out right then, they would probably decide he wasn't worth the effort to keep alive even if they hadn't gotten what they wanted from him. He didn't know this woman. She wasn't his problem. Right? Right. He forced himself to turn away and start for the door, back to his original goal: the stairs.
Everything was quiet as he entered the stairwell. He leaned against the wall for a moment, his energy spent quicker than it would have been if he were healthy. It didn't matter. The first step was getting out, then he could call for backup. Then he could -
The door at the bottom of the stairwell opened and slammed shut, the sound reverberating against the concrete and Jacob froze where he was. His dark gaze latched onto the equally surprised doctor that stood at the bottom of the stairs. He turned, ready to spring back in the direction he came as quietly as he could, but the sudden movement sent a shock of pain through him and he found himself back against the wall, knuckles white as they grasped the railing.
He must have blacked out for just a moment because the next thing he knew hands were on him and he found the doctor standing with him. Chen, he thought. He was pretty sure that was his name. The man looked worried as he tried to steady him.
"You shouldn't be out of bed. Just a moment. Let me get some help." His hands left Jacob's shoulder and dark blue eyes cracked open just enough to see the phone he was pulling out of his coat pocket. That was it. That's what he needed.
Jacob steeled himself, letting instincts honed by years of training drive him as he swung around. His right elbow connected with the doctor's jaw, catching him by surprise and slamming him back hard enough to knock him out. He eased him down against the steps, not wanting to draw more attention to his location, and snatched the phone. A quick press of his thumb against the reader opened it up so that he could adjust the settings so that it wouldn't require a password moving forward. He pocketed the phone and drew in a steadying breath. Okay. Now he just needed to get out.
Adrenaline helped to dull the pain in his left side and shoulder to get him down the rest of the stairs. He pushed the door open, emptying out into a hall. Left was clear, but a guard was making the rounds to the right. He instantly drew his gun, but that was confusion that flashed across his face. That was useful at least.
"You shouldn't be down here," the guard called out, lowering his gun without holstering it.
Jacob pressed a hand to his side and leaned heavily against the wall. "Listen, I got kinda turned around. I just…"
The guard moved forward, more at ease now and the weapon was no longer trained on Jacob. "It's alright. Let's get you upstairs. Dr Chen was on his way to see you. He can -"
His movements were quick. As soon as the guard touched him, ready to help him back up to his room, Jacob's hand flashed out and grabbed the gun. He turned it, firing three rapid shots into the other man, and watched him slump to the floor. He stood there for a long moment, his entire body trembling under the strain of the quickly dissipating adrenaline rush, and he winced as he pressed his empty hand against his side, blood already soaking through his shirt. Great. Just what he needed. He had to get out of there before anything else went wrong.
Jacob stumbled his way down to the hall and found a door leading out the side of the building and into an empty street. It was later than he'd realized, most people in bed, and he pushed himself along. He exchanged the gun for the less conspicuous phone in case anyone did happen to drive by. Bloody fingers clumsily dialed a number.
It rang once, twice, three times before finally connecting to the expected dead air on the other end.
"Bud. It's me. Something went wrong. I need an extraction."
There was a long pause before a voice that was definitely not Bill McCready's spoke. "Jacob?"
"Gina? Where's Bud?"
"What are you doing calling this number?"
"I don't have time for this. Something happened… I don't know what. I've lost time and I -" He doubled over, loosing the grip he'd had against his side to catch himself as he half collapsed against the nearest solid object, leaving a trail of blood streaked against the vehicle. Great. Just great.
"What do you mean you lost time? What the hell are you doing calling here?"
"I don't remember," he managed. When had it gotten so hard to breathe? "I just… The job's blown. Whatever the job was. Listen, I need an extraction. Tell Bud -"
"Where are you?"
He pushed himself off the car and looked around. "I don't know. DC, looks like? I don't know."
"I traced the call. I've got you. Find a place to lay low. I'll have someone at your location in ten minutes."
"Kay," he breathed out, stumbling towards an alley and sinking back against the building. He wasn't going to make it any further than this, but at least it was out of the general pathway if anyone decided on a late night stroll.
"Jacob?"
He blinked hard, trying to focus. "Yeah?"
"Don't die."
A rough chuckle escaped him. "Trying not to." Then everything went black.
TBC
Next Time: Red discovers that Tom is missing and tracks him down to St Regis while Tom looks for any answers he can find.
Notes: Hello hello! It's Friday again. I hope everyone is staying safe and well!
Thank you for all the lovely reviews and responses! It's great to see names I've seen for years back in the review inbox as well as some new ones. You guys are fantastic! 3
This week has been really good for finding answers to some of the questions I hadn't quite sussed out for this story yet. I keep a longrunning set of notes with plotpoints and various other details for stories like this to help keep everything straight. One of the reasons I was so hesitant to start posting (even over 20K into it) was because I didn't have those answers, so it feels great to have found some of them along the way as things start falling into place with the writing.
For those that don't follow me over on Tumblr I'm releasing a sneak peek every week in the form of AU gif sets of at least one scene in the upcoming chapter. They're a lot of fun to make. You can find them over at .com and just look up "Love Me Twice" in the search for my blog and you should be able to find them. Those are posting every Tuesday.
