Chapter Five

"So," she mused, reaching for and flipping through another file, "the Sikorsky Archive is a blackmail file put together on powerful people."

She sat surrounded by research that fanned out from her in every direction. Names, dates, and faces stared up and Elizabeth Keen stared back at them, working her way through any connection she could find. It had been a little over a week since Katarina had won her loyalty and helped pull her out of what had felt like a never ending tug-of-war game between her mother and Reddington, both sides violently opposed to each other…. until they weren't. Katarina had proved that, unlike Reddington, she could set the war aside for Liz. She'd helped to save Reddington's life even after Reddington had refused to help save hers and had chosen to tell Liz the truth. There were no half-truths and or hidden agendas between them. What Katarina knew, Liz knew, and it felt like a breath of fresh air for the first time in seven years. She could get used to this.

"One that those that bought into the Townsend Directive are willing to kill me for, yes," Katarina answered from her own place at the desk she had set up in the small hotel room.

"And these people….?"

"The ones I've uncovered that have bought in."

"They're the ones being blackmailed?"

A soft sound drew Liz's attention and her mother looked tired. Years of running, years of looking over her shoulder, she couldn't blame her. Especially since it was Ressler's and her own questions that had shone a light on the possibility of her being alive. "Perhaps. I don't believe the list is complete yet or, perhaps, even if those are the end buyers."

"Fronts?" Liz confirmed and flipped the page to find a particularly gruesome image. "It could make sense why we haven't found a connection yet. My team—"

"Is beholden to Reddington. You cannot tell them about this. Elizabeth." She waited until Liz looked up, meeting those steely blue eyes of hers. "You can not tell them."

"I know." Her phone buzzed and she reached for it. Nick's Pizza flashed across the caller ID. "Speak of the devil."

"Your team?"

Liz blinked, confused for a moment by the association the other woman drew, but brushed it off. "Reddington." Liz waited until Katarina nodded her acknowledgement before she tapped the accept button. "How are you feeling?"

"Fit as a fiddle," came the cheery response from the other end of the line. "Amazing what rest and adjustments in medication can do."

"Any chance you'll tell me why you need the medication in the first place?" Liz asked, unfolding herself from the hotel room floor and standing. She looked down at her watch. She'd need to leave for the office soon.

"There are more pressing matters. How soon can you make it to Franklin Square? There's a lovely little bakery down here with exquisite passion fruit croissants. They are simply to die for."

Liz quirked an eyebrow, shooting Katarina a long-suffering look even though she couldn't hear the conversation on the other end. "Unless there's more than fancy croissants, it's going to have to wait."

"The croissants are a bonus. I have a new Blacklister for you."

That was interesting. "Really? I thought you were on bed rest. Or is that why you're giving the case to us? Having us do all your legwork to track down my mother?"

"Not everything is so devious, Elizabeth. Our deal includes me providing Blacklisters and that's exactly what I'm doing."

He wasn't going to give anything else up over the phone, that much was obvious. Liz loosed a long breath. "I'll be there in twenty."

"Splendid! We'll save you a croissant."

The line went dead and Liz shoved it in her pocket before reaching for her purse.

"Leaving so soon?" Katarina asked, though it was hardly strange. Since she wanted Liz to keep their alliance to herself their meetings had to be short. A quick drop in after sending Agnes off to school or a brief chat in the car. They were making it work.

"Reddington has a Blacklister for us."

"And you think it has to do with finding me?"

Liz grabbed her purse. "He's always got an agenda, and I won't know if this one has to do with you until I talk with him. I'll let you know."

She started past, but Katarina's hand snapped out and caught her by the wrist. The hold was firm but gentle. "This will end, Elizabeth," she promised. "When we find who really has the archive and prove to the people hunting me that I didn't take it, this will all be over."

Liz tried for a smile. "I know."

She slipped carefully and silently out of the room, down the hall, and to the back stairs that would let her out into the alley behind the building. As Liz stepped out into the sun, she couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched. She turned, carefully and discreetly, but found no one. No familiar faces, no cars with people loitering in them. Nothing that should have sparked the feeling other than a healthy sense of paranoia that has clung to her the last several weeks. She felt like she was always being watched these days. For her safety. That was the running excuse. It was wearing a little thin.

She brushed it off as best as she could as she slipped into her car. The first step was to meet with Reddington and see exactly what wild goose chase he was about to send them on, then she could deal with whatever tail her mother had stuck her with.


The deeper a client's pockets, the more secretive they tended to be. That had been Jacob's experience, and even though Brigitte Tremblay had provided a wealth of information on Agent Keen to get started with, there had been more than one hole to fill. Very little on family outside of her daughter and no real details on certain connections. Raymond Reddington was listed as her CI, and while Jacob couldn't say he knew the man, he did know enough about him to confidently say he wouldn't have turned snitch for just anyone. There was a connection to Keen or someone else on the team, but if his research the last couple of weeks had shown him anything, he would have put his money on Keen.

Then there was Maddie Tolliver. A woman that didn't seem to belong in the dossier at first glance, but the more Jacob dug the more things didn't add up. The name appeared to be an alias - a burned one at that - with no obvious ties to Keen. None until trailing the fed led him to a hotel with Maddie Tolliver - under yet a different name - inside. He didn't have eyes or ears on the room itself, but he needed to get them.

One thing deep pocket clients could afford to provide was support. Sometimes Jacob brought his own in the form of a new graduate or a promising student that needed field experience, but Brigitte had insisted she provide her own people. They were alright. Not nearly as intuitive as a St Regis operative, but that's what he'd been hired for. So far they'd proven capable of following Keen when he couldn't and she hadn't seemed to notice. One had given him the room number and caught a glimpse of Tolliver as Keen had entered the room, but Jacob wouldn't dare send him in. He didn't trust them that far.

He set the low level tail to follow her while he made his way from the roof of the building he'd been perched on and down to the street level, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket as he rounded his way into the back alley to find a growing crowd of workers taking their smoke break not too far from the back exit. "Anybody got a light?" was all it took and he chatted with them like he belonged, a subtle hint to being new on the job dropped here and there, and by the time everyone was finished no one blinked twice that he followed them in.

Jacob shrugged his own jacket off to replace it with a uniform jacket that he'd snatched before working his way around to the front desk. He didn't quite make it there before he caught a break he hadn't expected: the elevator dinged, opening to reveal Tolliver and a bodyguard exiting. Jacob redirected and brushed past her, taking the limited opportunity and she didn't offer him a second glance.

The doors to the elevator slid closed and rocketed him up to the tenth floor. It was time to figure out exactly what this Maddie Tolliver's connection was to Elizabeth Keen.


She'd caught sight of her tail finally, but it wasn't one that Katarina typically used. He was young and thought he was being more discrete than he was, but she'd seen him in the hallway of the hotel when she'd left. It would have been one hell of a coincidence that he decided to go for a morning stroll in the same park that Reddington and she walked through as he divulged the details he knew about the case he was handing her.

He called the Blacklister The Collector. A secret keeper of sorts, and Liz perked at the phrasing. He'd called her mother a secret keeper once, but when she pointed that out Reddington had brushed it off immediately. Instead he focused in on The Collector himself.

"Reddington believes he got his start in the Cold War in the intelligence community. He targets individuals with significant secrets and uses those secrets to gain one favour and a lead on another secret. Sometimes he keeps the intel for years before exploiting it," Liz explained to her gathered team and as she spoke. "Reddington says that seemingly autonomous decisions - a Congresswoman stepping down right as her bill comes up for a vote, a businessman testifying against his corrupt business partner a day before their big product was set to launch, or a judge recusing himself from a high profile case - are all the work of this Collector using something that they've done or something that they've been apart of in secret against them."

"He's a blackmailer," Ressler said, his voice low and tight.

"Essentially, and Reddington says that for every public incident, there are at least three that never see the light of day."

Park shifted in her place. "Does he have a lead on who the new target is?"

"He believes that the Collector's next target is Bruno Krause, a German attache." Liz waited until Aram brought the little intel that they had up on the screen. "Thirty-eight, single, and he's been on the ambassador's staff for years. Doesn't look like there's a mark against him, but Reddington says that he's responsible for the death of this woman." A pretty blonde woman appeared on the screen. She was young, all bright smiles and a future stretched out ahead of her. "Amanda Clemmons. Twenty-three. Her body was found trapped in a car that had been driven into a lake. The driver was never found."

"He's using the information to blackmail them, right? What's he hoping to get from Krause?" Ressler asked.

Liz sighed. "Believe me, I asked him. He fixated on his croissant." She couldn't help the snort of a laugh that escaped at the looks she received. Yeah. She knew it was absurd. They all did by this point. Welcome to another day in the life of the Reddington Task Force.

Cooper's gaze remained fixed on the sparse intel, and Liz could see the subtle tells of emotion playing just below his stony mask. He set his jaw and turned to the team. "Keen, Ressler, I want you on Krause. Talk to him. See if you can find out why this Collector might be targeting him. Park, you and Agent Mojtabai keep digging. Deep. Maybe we can follow the trail back and find where our Blacklister is getting his intel."

Liz gave a terse nod and fell into step with her partner towards the lift that would take them to the garage. The yellow doors rattled closed before she felt Ressler's gaze turn on her. "You think this has to do with your mother?"

"You and I both know Reddington always has an agenda, and right now he's focused."

"He told Cooper he wouldn't hurt your mother."

"He lies. That's what he does."

She watched his lips twitch just a little. "Does he?"

The doors opened and she turned a disbelieving look on him. "This is Reddington we're talking about. Every time I think he's capable of an honest moment with me, I find out whatever it is I believed was wrong. He's not my father, he's Ilya."

"But did he ever say he was either one? Actually say it?" He held his hands up in mock surrender at the look the question got him. "Hey, I'm not defending him. The guy's a prick and he'll let us think whatever benefits him, but even you have to admit we haven't caught him in an out-and-out lie. It's about listening to exactly what he's saying and figuring out what he's leaving out."

"That's been my life for the last seven years. It's exhausting."

"Hey, I already said the guy's a prick."

She shook her head as she circled around to the passenger side door. As she opened it she met and held his gaze. "Do you still think he cares? About me, I mean."

Ressler stood there for half a beat as if he were considering it, but then he broke that stare to hop into the SUV. Liz followed suit, assuming he'd move past it without another word. He revved the engine and she saw him check the mirrors before loosing a long breath. "That's the only thing about him I know for sure," he said at last and put the vehicle into reverse.


Brigitte had set him up with a tiny studio apartment. It was furnished with more than he really needed, but it didn't hurt to have a place to go back to to crash and go over what he'd found.

Maddie Tolliver's hotel room had been cleaner than Jacob had hoped for. She had taken any papers of importance with her. The bed was made, her clothes were neatly tucked away in the closet, and the towels were hung over the edge of the shower glass. He had thought that the only thing he would truly walk away with was the bug that he'd planted on the inside lip of the nightstand, but then he'd spotted the glass with the telltale sign of lipstick stains. He hadn't intended to take anything from the room, but most people would brush it off as the cleaning staff anyway. If they did a sweep of the room he'd lose his chance at audio. At least this way he could run a DNA test and hope to find the real name behind Maddie Tolliver.

A knock at the door took Jacob to his feet, his gun in hand and his gaze hard. He adjusted his grip on his weapon, inching towards the front door carefully, his boots soft against the old wood. He reached forward to unlock the deadbolt and recoiled back, ready for anything on the other end. When nothing came he opened it to find his employer on the other side. She quirked one auburn eyebrow. "You're a bit paranoid, aren't you?"

He snorted and holstered his weapon. "You usually call."

"I didn't realize we'd known each other long enough for a usually," she mused, her tone light as she pushed her way into the apartment. Her blue gaze swept the space, falling on the dossier that Jacob had pulled apart like a puzzle he was working. "Interesting choice."

"What are you doing here?"

"Wondering what you're doing. Agent Keen is working a case."

"I have someone watching her."

"And would you trust that someone with your life?"

"He's your man."

"And you're the one I hired to protect her. Those people are there to support you, not replace you."

Jacob stooped down, grabbing for a collection of papers. "In my experience, it's never the obvious threat that gets you."

Brigitte took the offered file and frowned a little at Tolliver. If Jacob didn't know better, there was a hint of approval in those guarded eyes. "What makes you think she's the threat?"

"There's no reason for her to be in Keen's life. She may be another informant, but if you were able to tag Reddington as one, I'd guess you'd have a note about that for her if she was."

A small sound of acknowledgement left her and she looked directly at him. "So who is she?"

"I don't know yet, but I will. I have the room bugged."

"She'll find those."

"Maybe, but there's nothing she can do about the glass she left. DNA doesn't lie."

"It can if it's not a trusted source."

"It's a trusted source. You don't have to worry about that."

"Zanetakos told me she was handing over her best. Good to know my money isn't being wasted." Her gaze swept him up and down. "Tell me, you have to have a theory."

"I'd rather wait until I have the facts."

"Sure, but where's the fun in that? What's your gut say?"

Jacob pulled in a deep breath and crossed over several more piles of papers. He reached down for one that he recognized and held it out. "A few years ago Keen went on the run. Apparently she was framed by some sort of shadow organization or something like that, but while she was in the cold she publicly admitted to being Masha Rostova. I did some digging."

"Did you now?"

"She's the daughter of a KGB spy named Katarina Rostova. No known photo, no concrete details. Everything is hear-say with this woman. If she's Keen's mother, though…."

"DNA doesn't lie," Brigitte murmured softly.

"Right."

"You think that's who she is?"

"Maybe. It's worth exploring if nothing else."

"And if she is Agent Keen's mother, you don't think she'll be a threat?"

Jacob looked over to where she was standing, his guard flashing up at the tone of her question. He tilted his head a little to the side and studied her for a moment. "Just because someone's blood related doesn't mean they're not a threat."

There was a delay, but finally she huffed what he thought was a laugh at that, handing the file back.. "If anything happens to her on your watch, you won't have time to call an extraction before I get to you. Keep that in mind." Then she turned and walked for the door, leaving Jacob staring in confusion.

In the weeks since he'd taken the job she'd never come by the little apartment, but that day she had, even if only for five minutes and a threat. Whoever Elizabeth Keen was to her, whatever the fed had that Brigitte Tremblay needed, it was important to her. Clients didn't cross St Regis operatives off, not if they wanted to survive the aftermath themselves, but this woman didn't seem worried about that for an instant. She moved through the world like the one that made the rules in a game of her design. Whatever she was after, whatever she wanted, she didn't expect anyone to know until long after she'd had it. He'd worked for people like that before, but never anyone that could pull it off. This woman… she was good. She knew how to play the game, and if Jacob could manage to survive it, it'd be one hell of a ride.


TBC

Notes: You know you've been followed a lot when it's more of an annoyance rather than a concern. Poor Liz has just sort of learned to live in that space.

I hope everyone's doing well and staying safe! Happy Fourth to my American readers.

Next Time: Liz and Ressler hunt a Blacklister, Cooper and Reddington have a heart to heart, and Tom lands himself in a lot of trouble.