Chapter Fourteen
They were both frozen, tense, as the door opened up. Liz eased back and away, looking for her purse with her gun inside of it, but she'd left it in the living room hours before. Tom rolled as quietly from the bed as he could, his fingers wrapping around his own firearm that he'd set on the nightstand just before Liz had unhooked his belt.
And then she heard it. A small, excitable voice. "It's in here!" Agnes announced, and Tom was already halfway to setting the gun back down when Liz waved at him. She motioned at the drawer and he slipped it inside as she started for the bedroom door that stood only half closed.
Beth stood just past it, watching Agnes and Shelly run for the pile of princess dolls. Beth's gaze was fixed on Tom's sweatshirt that had been dropped on the floor.
"Hey," Liz said softly, but still managed to startle the other mom.
Beth startled, turning with her hand pressed against her chest. "Liz! You scared the crap out of me! I thought you were at work."
"Not that one!" Shelly huffed loudly, pulling both mothers' attentions to the girls and Agnes was on her feet already.
She was halfway to Liz's room as she called over her shoulder, "Mommy, is Cinderella in your room?" Liz didn't have a chance to stop her and could only hope that Tom was more clothed than she'd left him. "Hi, Jacob! I'm looking for Cinderella!" Agnes' voice carried from the room.
Beth turned an amused look on Liz. "Jacob?"
"It's…. complicated," Liz managed, but Beth nodded towards this discarded clothing.
"Not too complicated, I hope. This is good. How long has it been since Agnes' dad….?"
"Found her!" Agnes shouted and reemerged from the room. She had her Cinderella doll in one arm and had ahold of Tom's hand so that she could pull him out into the living room with the other hand. Thankfully he had managed to get his jeans and t-shirt back on. No telling where his boots were. "Jacob helped!"
"I got Merida!" Shelly called out from the pile of dolls.
Beth shot Liz a look, not bothering to try to hide her small smile of approval. "Well, that's what we were after. Agnes, are you ready for your sleepover?"
Agnes' little face screwed up in irritation and she tightened her hold on Tom's hand. "I wanna play with Jacob."
"Hey, kiddo," Liz said softly, pulling Agnes' attention around. "Weren't you looking forward to your princess sleepover?"
The irritation deepened and the four-year-old looked like she was on the verge of a meltdown. Well, that was unexpected. Sleepovers at Shelly's house were usually at the top of Agnes' list of favourite things to do, but in that moment she looked like Liz had just told her that she was going to the doctor's for a shot. "I wanna play with Jacob!" she said again, more forcefully this time, and clung just a little harder as she turned to look up at the man she couldn't possibly know was her father. "Please?"
Liz watched the brief look of terror flash through his dark blue eyes before he readjusted, his expression softening at the increasingly determined look that was settling into their daughter's face, and he looked to Liz giving the smallest of nods. He was good with it if she was.
"Looks like we're going to have to postpone princess night," Liz relented and shot Shelly an apologetic look. "That okay?"
"Can Merida come home with me?" the little girl asked and Liz forced a smile.
"I think we can work that out."
"You sure?" Beth asked quietly and she looked sympathetic.
Liz wasn't sure if - or even how - she would ever explain how the layers of the complicated mess that she and the man that Agnes was calling Jacob had found themselves tangled up in. How do you tell a perfectly normal woman with a perfectly normal job and a perfectly normal life that your husband that you thought was dead for the last two and a half years was back and missing a decade's worth of memories? That you found out only because a woman that they didn't even know the real name of had hired him and that another woman that you had thought was your mother had been ready to put a bullet in his head for spying on her? There was no way to make that sound even remotely sane, and that didn't even touch on any of the other pieces of chaos that made up her life. She was starting to remember why she'd ghosted on most of their friends after their first marriage had ended.
"He must be special," Beth said, pulling Liz out of her thoughts. "I'm really happy for you." She reached out for Shelly who held onto the doll tightly and waved goodbye to Agnes who seemed much more interested in Tom.
There was something in not only the way that their daughter was looking at him, but how much softer he seemed to be with her that helped to push away the rest of the chaos. "He really is," Liz breathed, barely audible as Beth and Shelly left. She felt a smile tug into place. "Hey, how about a trip to the park?"
Agnes' face lit up. "The park!" she squealed.
She ran to go put Cinderella on her bed and Liz leaned in close. "You sure? There's no turning back once she's involved."
"I don't want to turn back," he answered softly. "No more running."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Tom had always had conflicting views about being a father. He'd all but begged her to have a child with him during their first marriage, his excitement over her dream of adopting making a whole lot more sense after she'd learned about his own childhood and upbringing. They had hit roadblock after roadblock with the adoption. The timing had been thrown off when Zamani had nearly killed Tom and then Liz had backed out at the last second with their friend Jenni's little boy. Tom had been devastated after the last one, but even now she knew it had been for the best. They never could have raised a child in that home with so many lies between them. It wouldn't have been fair to them or the child.
Then he'd found out that she was pregnant with Agnes and she'd seen that same excitement return, despite the flippant manner he'd referred to everything when she had interrogated him on the boat. Something in him wanted to be a father - to have a home and a family with her - and she'd wondered in that moment if it wasn't a bit of what she'd struggled with herself. He hadn't known where he came from and his own childhood had been a disaster. There was something in the idea of having a little one that made it feel like, somehow, something good could come of it.
And it had. All the fears, all the worries, and all the struggles later, that little girl was the center of her world. Liz hadn't been willing to risk adding to Agnes' trauma by letting her get close to him until Tom was certain. She thought that would come with his memories, but some things were stronger than memories. He was nervous, hesitant, but there was no missing the way he softened with her or the contentment that made its way to his expressive eyes as Agnes ran circles around him, like for just a moment he didn't have to fight just to survive. For the first time in a long time Liz let herself remember how much their daughter's laugh reminded her of his.
For the rough start, this day had been exactly what she needed to reset. It had given her hope. Orchard had finally gotten in contact, the Collector case seemed to be inching forward again, and she couldn't help but feel like her family might be whole someday soon. Agnes certainly adored her father, even if Liz had no idea how she would know who he was. She'd said something about finding her box of photos she kept tucked away, but there was no context for that, and certainly no context that a four-year-old could draw from it. But there was no hesitation in the way she approached him though, tugging his hand to keep him close and pulling him around the park.
And he went with her, never letting go.
"She thinks I'm going to leave again." Tom's voice pulled Liz out of her thoughts and she glanced over to the passenger seat where he was leaned back, his expression difficult to read. He tilted his head a little and turned to look back at the sleeping little girl in the back seat. "She can't remember me, right? From before?"
"I was just thinking about that," Liz admitted softly. "I don't think there's any way she could, but just because she doesn't remember you doesn't mean she doesn't know you, at least on some level."
He let his head fall back against the headrest with a light thump and turned to watch the city pass by through the window. "I can get that."
Liz kept her gaze fixed on the road in front of them, but her lips tilted up in a smile. Yep. This had turned out to be a good day, despite the way it had begun.
They parked in the garage and a sleepy Agnes refused to move unless Tom was carrying her. She wrapped around his neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder, and she was out again. He took it in stride and it would have been very easy in that moment to pretend that the last two and a half years had played out very differently. That he had been there for the play dates, the weird breakfast requests, and every princess tea party. That Agnes had grown up perched on his shoulders as he made sure she had the life he'd never known after he'd been taken. That she grew up safe and loved by both of her parents. It was easy to pretend, and that image lasted her up to the door of their apartment where reality crashed back into place.
Nothing good lasted forever. That was the one constant in their lives.
Liz didn't see any sign of forced entry, but Gina Zanetakos had made herself right at home in the white rocking chair that faced the front door of the apartment. In unison both Liz and Tom went for their guns, Tom sliding Agnes around with surprising ease and shifting so that he was between the little girl and the bored looking blonde.
Gina smirked just a little at the sight of Tom with Agnes. "Back to playing house so soon?"
"What part of our last conversation made you think it wasn't our last?" Tom snarled and Agnes started to stir at his tone.
"Put your guns down. I'm not here to bring you back."
Agnes started to squirm in earnest and slipped down, landing in a controlled fall so that her bare feet hit the wood floor. Liz grabbed her, pulling her behind both she and Tom.
He readjusted his grip on his gun, steadying it with both hands. "Then why?"
Gina sighed, the sound exasperated and she relaxed back in the chair. "You came to me after you left the first time and said you wanted peace."
"Doesn't sound like me."
"You'd changed." She tilted her head, studying him.
"What do you want, Zanetakos?" Liz growled and for the first time the other woman's attention focused on her.
"Peace," she answered tightly, as if the word physically sickened her.
"You think I know too much, don't you?" Tom asked, finally lowering his weapon just a little.
"I know you know too much."
"Why not just kill me?"
Liz stiffened a little at Agnes' worried sound. It wasn't lost on her that Agnes was the same age she had been when she had gotten her hands on a weapon and took that fateful shot all those years ago. There were plenty of dangers surrounding her and she certainly had the stubborn streak that she'd inherited from them both. Liz didn't want her daughter to get it stuck in her mind that she needed to protect them. Thankfully, Tom managed to block Agnes from finding space to get around them and Liz felt a relieved breath escape her.
Gina's expression had shifted when Liz looked back to her. A little softer. Little more strained. "You know why," she murmured, but then she squared her shoulders and her expression turned back to bored. "I'm here for a trade." She reached into her pocket, not seeming to be bothered by the pair of guns that leveled at her movement. She held a jump drive between her fingers. "Your buddy Fitz was digging into something he shouldn't have. No one knows where he is."
"Dead," Tom answered sharply and Gina shrugged.
"He found some interesting information about the woman he was researching for you…. and more."
"What kind of more?"
"Enough to buy your silence. I give you this, I don't have to worry about the feds showing up at my door as thanks for letting you live. We go our separate ways and we're done. For good this time."
"And if it's not worth the swap?" Tom asked.
"Then you know where to find me." She stood offering the jump drive to him. Slowly Tom lowered his weapon to reach out for it, but she didn't immediately let go. "Just know they have orders to kill if you show your face on campus again."
He smirked, tugging the drive from her fingers. "Noted."
Liz pulled Agnes back as Gina circled far too close to her for Liz's comfort. She clenched her teeth, waiting, and Tom moved first to lock the door. Only then did Liz risk loosing a breath, setting the gun aside, and pulling Agnes up into her arms. Gina Zanetakos had been in their home with their daughter. She'd said she'd come with a peace offering, but to Liz, it felt more like a show of power. Another person that could get to them any time she wanted to.
The little girl wrapped around her. "It's okay, Mommy. The bad lady's gone."
Liz felt the tenseness loosen just a little and she pressed a kiss to the side of her daughter's head. "I know, baby. I know."
The feeling of danger lingered in the apartment long after Gina was gone. Agnes consoled her mother almost more than her mother consoled her, leaving Jacob with another round of questions on how a kid that was supposed to be his was more compassionate at four than he knew how to be at thirty-five.
Liz worked to get Agnes settled and distracted in their line of sight while he borrowed her computer to see what Gina had felt was so important that she could use it to leverage him from bringing everything she cared about down around her head after what she'd done to him.
It wasn't a small file which, having known Fitz and his boundless curiosity over the years like he did, shouldn't have surprised him. The man had had connections everywhere and was able to dig up dirt that no one else could touch. He was able to bury it in the same way too, which was one of the things that had made him so useful to St Regis over the years.
There were folders of information, most of it in Russian and redacted, but there were documents under a dozen aliases littered in it. Birth certificates, death certificates, IDs, and other odds and ends. He read through the notes, eyes fixing on photos where they were available, and Fitz had even left a document explaining what he'd found. Jacob was halfway through it when a hand touched his shoulder lightly and he found Liz joining him on the couch.
"Is all of this linked to Tolliver?" she asked quietly.
Jacob glanced over to see Agnes busy with a sketchpad and crayons at the table, but kept his voice low as well. "Not all of it, doesn't look like."
"So who are the other women?"
"From what Fitz found…. Katarina Rostova."
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"I'm still working through it, but… You ever play Three Card Monte? Find the Lady?"
"The card game? Sure. My adopted father was a grifter. I could pull that one off without a hitch by the time I was seven."
Jacob smirked at the thought of Liz conning some unsuspecting schmuck out of their cash. "Looks like that from what I can tell. Multiple women working under the same name. You can have her in more than one place at once and it builds the legends. We studied the theory when I was a teenager at St Regis, but Bud said no one had pulled it off successfully. Guess he was wrong."
"So Tolliver wasn't my mother, but that doesn't mean… Are there any other photos? The different women?"
There was a desperation in her voice that Jacob wasn't sure he liked, but he nodded, scrolling through. There were at least three different women, all around the same age and of similar builds. Redheads - possibly unnaturally so - with dangerous looks to them. It would be easy to mistake one for the other if you weren't looking very closely.
"There. Her," Liz snapped and Jacob stopped scrolling.
He felt his breath catch. "Who is she?" he asked carefully.
"My mother. It's her, from when I was little. I recognize her." The words tumbled out, quick and shocked and terrified and excited.
Jacob swallowed hard. "Liz… I know that woman."
"What? How?"
"Age her up a little over thirty years and it's her. That's the woman that hired me. That's Brigitte Tremblay."
They turned to look at the photo together, a new layer of shock settling over them as Brigitte Tremblay - Katarina Rostova - stared back from the file.
It had been a long day. Elizabeth may have been focused on what she saw as the truth - that Red had offered up a Blacklister with the sole intention of taking him off the playing board - but taking out the Collector had only slowed the rate in which everything was crashing down around them. The search for the Sikorsky Archive, Elizabeth's poking and prodding where she shouldn't, and now the understanding that the Bonn faction of the Cabal was coming back into play didn't hold a candle to what it would all mean in the end.
And the end was coming. He'd always known it would. Reddington had just hoped he would live long enough to shield the people he loved from the brunt of the fallout.
He heaved a heavy sigh, leaning back in his recliner and closing his eyes. Life had been simple once, hadn't it? At the very least he had been able to pretend that it was. A wife, a daughter, a career, and a name that he'd worn like a mask. It had protected him. It still did, at least from the worst of it. It protected her too.
No, he conceded, if only to himself, even the illusion of simplicity had been washed away when she came into his life, but he wouldn't change it for anything. If Elizabeth and her little girl managed to surface from all of this safe and whole, it would all be worth it.
These were the moments he wished that Dom were awake. He hadn't realized how much he had come to rely on the man. Perhaps not for advice, but for a figure that had been with him for so long. He knew him in a way that most didn't. Couldn't. Even Dembe who knew of the secrets hadn't been there for their birth into the world.
Dom has been, but despite all of the doctor's efforts the older man still hadn't surfaced fully from his coma. He was breathing and he was healing, but much like Elizabeth only a couple of years before there was a question of if as well as when.
A knock at the door startled him from the near-dozing state he had sunk into and he straightened to listen. Dembe must have slipped out at some point, but he wouldn't have knocked to come back in. With precious few people aware of this little apartment hideaway that he kept, Elizabeth was the only other reasonable option.
Anyone else would spell trouble.
Reddington reached for his revolver, frowning at the slight tremor in his hand as he did. He pulled it from its holster and moved towards the door with all but silent footsteps. He risked a look through the peephole and blinked in surprise at the red headed woman flexing her fingers in a playful wave, her smile as impish as it had been all those years ago when he had first met her.
"Are you planning on letting me in?" she asked, her tone light even as he undid the locks and pulled the door open. He dropped the gun down so the muzzle was aimed at the floor and her smile only broadened. "Hello, Raymond."
"Katarina," he managed, her name escaping on a breath.
"We need to talk."
TBC
Notes: I realized some time after writing this that the Keens really do have a lot of unexpected and sometimes unwelcome guests in their home. Two in one chapter lol
So, a lot happened in this chapter, but I want to give a shoutout to everyone that thought Brigitte was Katarina. You were riiiiiiight! Now here's the big question: what's her endgame?
Next Time: Katarina tries to enlist Reddington's help, Ressler reveals a secret to Cooper, and Tom has his first memory recovery session.
