Chapter Twenty-Three

She had no interest in repeating the whole chaos that had rained down on them when they'd left for Cuba. Not being followed, not being found out, not getting innocent people killed, and not ghosting on the small handful of people that Liz actually could trust in her life. If they were leaving, they were going to do it right. Part of that was talking to her team.

Her boots tapped softly against the wood floors of the hallway as the phone rang again and again in her ear until it connected with Ressler's voicemail. His voice was even and dispassionate as he rattled off his own cell phone number and told the caller to leave a message, but a beeping caught her attention and Liz pulled the phone away to see the ginger agent's face fill her screen. She clicked hang up and accept call, repositioning the phone. "Hey."

"Hey. You guys secure?"

The question caught her off guard and she paused in the middle of the otherwise empty hallway. "Secure?"

"What? Did Tom's mom not tell you?"

Liz's eyes narrowed. "If the intel is coming from any of our parents, it's safe to assume they're withholding it."

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Ressler loosed a long breath. "Okay. You know the lead we were chasing down?"

"Not a lot about it."

"Cooper had Hargrave put us in touch with Matias Solomon."

The confession was like a punch to the gut. "Why?"

"Because he worked for the same faction of the Cabal that Emilia Schmitz does. He was out of Bonn."

The logic didn't help the seething rage she could feel building inside of her. "Let me guess, it didn't go like you planned?"

"Not for him. He's dead."

And just like that the rage turned to cold terror. "They knew he was meeting with you?"

"Liz, we met with him this afternoon and he was dead a couple hours later. They're here and they're moving fast."

"Are you guys -"

"We're at the Post Office right now, but it's not like we can just hide here until this blows over."

Liz glanced down the hall to make sure she was still alone. "Did he tell you anything?"

"A name. Jonas Bauer."

"Any idea who that is?"

"Not yet. Aram and Park are looking into it. Is Reddington there? Maybe he knows the name."

The mere mention of his name snapped the situation back into focus. Right. Reddington. He was responsible for taking Tom's memories. He'd done this to them and they were done with him. She'd told Tom that they'd leave and never look back.

But now her team was in the crosshairs. Didn't that change things? She wasn't sure.

"Liz?"

"I'll ask," she said tightly. It was the least she could do before leaving.

"Thanks. If it wasn't about Solomon, what were you calling about?"

The truth stuck in her throat, the need to balance the complicated situation overriding her original intentions. They had enough on their plate right now without knowing that she was about to take off on them again. She would tell them, but first she needed to find out what Reddington knew.

"Later," she answered. "I need to catch Reddington before he leaves."

"Let us know."

"Will do." She ended the call and started forward again with a new purpose.


When Matias Solomon had come to work for Halcyon, he had brought a wealth of knowledge. Scottie had known about the Cabal - she'd known more than she'd ever admitted to the man - but her knowledge was, in great parts, dated. There was a reason she had sought him out and a reason she'd been willing to save his life. It had worked out well for both of them and she hated that she couldn't save him from them in the end.

Reddington had recognized the name Jonas Bauer, that much she was certain of. He was a talented liar and an expert manipulator, but so was she. If she'd been given the time she was certain that she could have flipped the tables on him, but Agnes had been picked up from school and was in a complete fit over the fact that she hadn't been allowed in to see her parents yet. Meredith - a woman that had often watched her while Elizabeth had been doing what she could to fight her own demons after Tom's supposed death - had apologized profusely while still leading the sobbing child in and Agnes had wrapped herself around Scottie's leg and refused to let go. It broke her grandmother's heart. At least one of them. She had risked a glance to Katarina to see her watching the little girl with a blank expression. If the child's sadness caused any twinge of emotion in her, it never made it to her face, and it only served to solidify something that Scottie had tried to push back up until that point. Katarina had been right: they weren't equals, but not for the reasons that she had said. They weren't equals because Katarina viewed everyone around her - even if she was fond of them - as pieces on her chess board to be moved and adjusted as she needed them to be. Scottie, Tom, and even Katarina's own daughter. Scottie didn't question that she loved Masha, only that that love that she felt was a very twisted kind. A kind that she had always feared falling into with Christopher. Howard had, and it had destroyed their son's trust in him. Even if it had been rightfully so, she refused to let the same thing happen between them.

Agnes had cried herself into an exhausted stupor and was draped over Scottie's shoulder by the time that they arrived at the suite set aside for the Keens. Scottie shifted her carefully and knocked against the door. There was no answer at first and she reached for it, nimble fingers turning the knob and it opened for her into the first room of the suite: the empty sitting room. Agnes squirmed and slid down to the floor, instantly alert and on the search.

It was so quiet that Scottie wondered if perhaps they had fallen asleep when they'd come back in. Or left, a tiny, terrified thought appeared in her head, even if she knew they never would have gone without Agnes.

The first indication of someone else being in the suite was a sound that might have been a long zipper running along the tracks and the little girl took off towards the sound. "Daddy!" she squealed and disappeared into the bedroom.

"Hey, kiddo," Tom's voice drifted out, tired but there was something gentle about the tone that made Scottie smile. "Did your mom pick you up? That was fast. Liz?" Tom circled out of the room, Agnes in his arms and stopped at the sight of Scottie standing there. "Hey."

"Hi," she managed, the greeting strained. "How are you feeling?"

"Not fantastic," he answered and Agnes wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss against his scruffy cheek.

"Feel better?"

He turned to look at her and his lips tilted every so slightly at the corners. "Definitely."

"Anges, sweetie, could you give us a moment?" Scottie prompted and Agnes looked to her father like she was waiting for his OK on it.

He pressed a kiss against her temple and set her down carefully. "I'll be in in a sec, okay?"

"'Kay."

She waited as the little girl scurried back into the rooms and finally Tom turned his gaze on her. He looked exhausted. Drained. Like he had nothing left to give and the world just kept asking him for more. She hated it and she took a breath. "Tom, I -"

"Did you know?"

"Absolutely not. I never would have brought him in here."

"So he's gone?"

She pursed her lips. No. He wasn't, was he? Not yet. "It's complicated."

"Everything is."

"That's true." She watched him carefully, hoping for some small tell that would give her insight. He was too well trained for that, even in his current condition. It was…. Well, not fine, but he didn't deserve a mother that sized him up for the easiest way to manipulate the situation. He deserved a mother that put him above everything. It was time, all these years later, to truly try to be that. "Tom, I need to tell you -"

"No."

She blinked hard, the single, sharp word catching her off guard. "Things are complicated, and I need to tell you why. To try to explain why."

He snorted, his lips quirking up in a sardonic smirk that reminded her so much of his father. "You're gonna explain it all, huh? Spell it out for me?"

"I'm hoping to provide some…. I hope clarity, but so many years later, maybe just a piece of the puzzle that you're missing."

"I don't want your piece."

Scottie schooled her expression. "Tom, I had nothing to do with what Reddington -"

"It doesn't matter. Don't you get that?" He held her gaze. "You've had every opportunity to tell me whatever you're marching in to tell me now, but you haven't. Instead you waited for a sign of weakness."

"That's not what this is."

"You sure? We find out that the man that Liz basically views as her dad was responsible for taking my memories of her, of our daughter, and her mother was the one that hired me without ever telling me anything…. These are people you know. People you've - I don't know? Worked with? - and you expect me to think that you're handing me this olive branch out of the goodness of your heart with no ulterior motives? Why am I here to begin with?"

"I just want to make sure you're safe."

He watched her, sizing her up, and this time she knew that that look was all her. "Maybe. Hell, who knows? Maybe you really are the good one in all of this, or something close to it, but here's the thing, Scottie: I. Don't. Know." He bit each word out, anger and frustration lining them, and she saw the hurt behind the protective layers in his expression. "After all of this, I have one person I know that I can trust."

"What can I do to change that?"

"Nothing."

"Tom…."

"Not pushing me would be a good start though."

"Daddy, I wanna go to the pool," Agnes said as she bounded back into the room, but now she was wearing the little pink swimsuit that Scottie had given her when they'd come to stay there. The pool in the basement level had a hot tub that was shallow enough for her and she loved it.

"Sure, kiddo. Let's do that," he answered and took her hand. He turned back to Scottie and his words were pointed. "Whatever piece of the puzzle you have, I can't trust right now."

He didn't give her a chance to respond before he led the four-year-old out and down the hall, leaving Scottie alone with the overwhelming feeling that she was losing him all over again.


Reddington had always prided himself on strategy. He could look at the chessboard and see three, four, or five moves ahead. Whatever it took to stay ahead of his opponent. It let him move freely and allowed him the leverage he needed to force hands where they needed to be forced. He had honed the skills over the years to near perfection - and where they weren't perfect, he did a damn good job of making it appear that they were - through loyal employees and the occasional friend. With few exceptions, they were people that did as they were told and it allowed him the control he needed.

Elizabeth, like her mother, rarely did as she was told, and all these years later perhaps Kate had been right. Perhaps he shouldn't have dropped into her life and opened up the litany of questions that she thought she needed answers to. He hadn't felt like he had a choice. The dangers had been mounting, movements within the Cabal becoming more than whispers, and Berlin had been closing in. He had done what he had been certain needed to be done to protect her, and now that decision was catching up with him. His biggest mistake was underestimating her tenacity.

The first misstep - and the one that just kept on giving - was Tom Keen. He had been an effort to have eyes on Elizabeth without being there himself, but even Reddington hadn't been able to predict the strange twist of fate when he had hired Christopher Hargrave to watch over Masha Rostova. He had been drawn to her in a way that no one understood at the time and, somehow, it had led them to the one secret that Reddington needed to keep above all others.

The bones. It had been so long that he had dared to hope that that secret would stay buried, but Tom had inherited all the stubbornness that both of his parents held when they had a goal in sight. He'd gone after that secret, convinced that Reddington was keeping something from Liz that would put her in danger and never dreaming that it was the truth that would put her in danger. And then Tom had disappeared - dead, as far as those around them knew - and Reddington hated to admit that there had been a sense of relief in it. He hadn't remembered and there was no reason for him to. At this point, it wasn't something that he would have actively wished for, but it had protected that secret again right up until Elizabeth decided that her new life goal was to dig in and find the secret her husband had known.

And she had, or at least part of it. The bones belonged to someone named Raymond Reddington. What that meant for him, she still hadn't found. And wouldn't, if he could help it. For him, for her, for Katarina, and even for her husband and his family. The fact that the name Jonas Bauer was even being whispered through their disjointed ranks was enough to signal the tidal wave coming to drown them all. Red had tried to head it off over the years. He had spent years quietly working to swing the faction of the Cabal in the United States to his side or dismantle it - whichever worked out was fine by him - and Petrov's reemergence had been a sign that Bonn was looking to rekindle their relationship with what was left in the US. He'd put a stop to it, but he'd also inadvertently set Elizabeth on yet another trail that she refused to give up.

The moment that the Task Force had chosen to go to Matias Solomon for answers about Bonn, he had known that his control over the situation had slipped. If Jonas Bauer caught wind of them - which he would, Reddington knew he would - there was nothing they could do. Not like they were now. The distrust ran deep in all of them. He didn't trust them any more than they trusted him and he couldn't see that changing. No, for now, he had two goals: the first was to make sure that he always had more information than anyone else. He hated it, but he'd sent Dembe to Germany to find the pieces he knew they were likely missing. The second - infinitely more difficult than the first - was that he needed to find a way to convince Elizabeth to drop it. He needed to put as much distance between her and everything that was about to explode in their faces.

She couldn't know who Jonas Bauer was. If she did, she'd never stop.

The pounding on the front door startled Reddington out of his thoughts. He had returned to his apartment for a regiment of pills and in hopes of finding some clarity in the situation. He touched the revolver in its holster at his hip and moved carefully towards the door, ready to draw quickly, but found a familiar face through the peephole instead. He opened the door and Elizabeth's gaze was ice cold as she brushed past him into the apartment.

"Elizabeth," he breathed. "If I may -"

"You may not," she answered tightly.

He closed the door behind her and turned. "There was no malice involved. I never intended to take him from you."

"But you did, and then you lied about it." She tilted her head, her expression terrifyingly similar to Katarina's just before she killed somebody.

"I've never lied to you."

"Bullshit. You told me he was dead."

"He was. For all intents and purposes your husband was dead. He didn't remember you, he escaped, and shy of storming St Regis' compound and dragging him back, I had no way to force him to return."

"You could have told me."

The words hung between them for a long moment and Reddington swallowed hard. "Perhaps," the confession rode out on a breath. "And what would it have gained you? What would you have done? Left Agnes, chased her father around the world? A man that didn't know you and might have even killed you before you had a chance to convince him."

Elizabeth squared her shoulders. "I'm not having this conversation with you," she stated firmly. "It's not worth it. You did what you always do: you made the decision for me. You took my choice away like I was a child. You're not my father, and even if you were I'm a grown woman. I decide what to do with my life, not you." Her voice was brutally calm. "You've crossed lines before and, if I'm honest, I should have stood by every decision I've ever made to cut you out personally. Right now, you're my CI and I'm your handler. That's it, and I need information."

"What kind of information?" he asked carefully.

"Jonas Bauer was a name that Matias Solomon gave Cooper and Ressler before the Cabal killed him. He's Emilia Schmitz direct superior. You knew Schmitz's name. What do you know about Bauer?"

"Emilia Schmitz answers to Jonas Bauer?" Well, that was news. Last he had been aware the two had been part of separate circles within the Cabal. He certainly wouldn't have given Elizabeth the name if he'd known.

"Yes. What do you know about him? How is he linked to all of this?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You won't tell me that."

"That is also true."

Rage flickered across her expression before being shoved behind the mask of indifference. She looked him up and down, assessing and calculating. "I need this. Cooper, Ressler, Aram, and Park need this. You put us on this case. You sent us after The Collector and it's led us here."

"It was never supposed to lead you here," he confessed softly.

"But it did, and now you're putting my team in danger by withholding key pieces of information that we need for this case. They killed Solomon just a few hours after he met with Cooper and Ressler. Matias Solomon. A man with deep knowledge about their organization and that could slip away and squirm out of almost anything. They were able to track him down in a New York subway tunnel and kill him. They already sent someone after Ress and I'd put money on the fact that they'll send the same level of people after them that they did Solomon now that they know the stakes. I'm asking for your help. You cost my family two and a half years of indescribable pain. If my team is hurt because you refuse to help us…."

"Elizabeth, this is your life."

"Yes, it is. That's my point."

"No. Jonas Bauer will cost you your life if you continue down this path. He will cost everyone you love their lives. Drop it."

"He'll kill my team."

"And do you love them as dearly as you do your family?"

"They are my family!" The outburst nearly caused Reddington to flinch and he saw tears standing in her eyes now. "Don't you understand what they mean to me? Let me protect them. Please."

"The only way to protect them now is to drop this."

"And run?" Elizabeth asked, her tone more controlled now. "Is that what you've been doing all this time?"

"Yes," the truth slipped out. "And sometimes you must."

"You and Tom agree on some of the strangest things," she whispered and pulled her phone from her pocket. He saw her husband's photo flash across the screen before she swiped to answer it. "Hey." There was a pause and she glanced at Reddington. "Okay. I'm on my way."

"Elizabeth -"

"I have to go."

She didn't give him a chance to argue before storming out of the apartment, the door shutting hard behind her. Reddington stood rooted in place and his gaze remained fixed on the door. She wasn't going to drop it. He knew her, and he knew there was no convincing her now.


The living quarters and medical facilities had made the Halcyon-owned building perfect for what the Keens had needed it for, but the full gym on the basement level had been a nice perk, especially when it came to keeping an active four-year-old entertained. There was a pool with a hot tub that was shallow enough for her to paddle around in with her floaties, the water only coming up to Tom's waist. He sat with her, his bare feet on the step as he leaned against his knees and his mind spun through everything that had happened. It helped a little to be down there with her. There was something about Agnes' unburdened laughter that helped ease the weight bearing down on him. It gave him hope, he thought. Hope that even if he never recovered all of his memories, he could make new ones. He could live out his days with this family he hadn't even known, but had so desperately needed. They could leave everything behind, change their names, and disappear from all of this. They could protect each other.

"She's bigger than I imagined."

Tom jumped, turning to find Katarina Rostova standing over him, her blue gaze fixed on the little girl dog paddling around, oblivious to the new presence. He narrowed his eyes as she took a seat with him. "What do you want?"

"To tell you I know what you're going to do."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know that people like us are complicated. We fill so many roles that it can be easy to lose perspective on our own thoughts, our own feelings."

"Just shells to be filled up, huh?" he echoed the words she'd spoken to him before, bitterness seeping into his tone.

"I think I was wrong there," she breathed. "It was easier to believe than to face the more…. difficult emotions. Pain, loss, abandonment." Her gaze slid over to him and there was something strangely real in those eyes that reminded him of Liz's own. He wouldn't go as far to say that the walls were down - he wasn't a fool - but there was something more open about them. Like she was sharing a secret with him. "You know you can't run from this. Raymond's tried for a very, very long time. He became who he is now to run from his past and all it's done is brought everyone he loves more pain. You and Masha are living that now. We have to end this."

He'd become who he was now. A flash of a memory put him at a train station with a document in hand. A secret linked to Garvey and the bag and… Tom shook it off. "We don't have anything to do with this," he whispered, his voice unsteady and he looked back to Agnes. Smiling, laughing, swimming. Peace warred with turmoil.

"You have everything to do with this. I know you don't trust me, and after finding out what you did about Raymond I can't even say I blame you. Look at me for a moment." She waited until he did, finally tearing his gaze away from Agnes. "I know you've had a lot stolen from you. Do you remember the beach? The seagulls overhead and the sandcastles that you two put together."

Tom found that he couldn't look away now, his mind's eye filling in images that coincided with her words. He wasn't sure if they were memories or his imagination, but he could smell the salt in the air and feel the warm sand under his toes. A laugh - not Agnes' this time. A little higher pitched, a little younger - echoed in his thoughts and he swallowed hard.

"There was a rhyme."

"She loved tongue twisters," Tom breathed, an image flashing through his memories of a younger Scottie Hargrave dressed in a black one piece bathing suit with a sheer cover flowing open and a floppy hat shading her face. The memory smiled, her lips moving but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

"What kind?"

A buzzing sound shattered the moment, dragging him out of the memory abruptly and he found himself back at the edge of the hot tub, Agnes watching them curiously now, and he hadn't had a flash like that while conscious. It was strange. Unnerving. He looked down to his phone and snatched it so that Katarina couldn't catch a glimpse of the alert.

He surfaced. Drop site for coordinates.

"Tom, I need to know what you remember," Katarina said pointedly.

He looked at her, his gaze harder now. "Why?"

"To end this. You and and Masha -"

"This have something to do with the secret Scottie wanted to tell me? What she did?" He saw a flash of surprise so brief he almost missed it, but he knew he was right. "I don't know what you two did to us, but I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told her: even if you spelled it out, I wouldn't trust it." He turned back to his daughter. "C'mon, kiddo."

She didn't argue, but was already climbing up the step and took his hand as he got to his feet. That little hand tightened in his as they rounded into an empty hall and Tom pulled the ringing phone to his ear. It connected and he heard Liz's voice. "Hey. One of my contacts came through. We found Illya."


TBC

Notes: Sorry I missed the update last week, but hello from the West Coast! The cat, my car, and I are all in LA. Now if I could just get my stuff delivered, that'd be awesome :')

This has been a wild journey so far and it's only beginning. I'm really glad I was as far ahead in writing this story so, hopefully, I won't miss anymore updates. I haven't written a lot the last few weeks and I'm really hoping to work up the mental and emotionally energy to get back to it tonight. Between work and the move it's left me utterly spent, but I'm in for the night, have a glass of wine, and here's hoping my brain cooperates! :D

For this chapter... anyone feeling their trust shift or is everyone still pretty distrustful of the parents? :P

Next Time: The Keens track down Ilya and Katarina gets an unexpected call.