Chapter Twenty-Seven

The guard offered a brief, familiar nod to Tom as he led his father down to the black site. There was more familiarity in the groaning of the lift and the shadowy space they were emptied out into, but he wasn't sure if it was the all the time he'd spent there recently or his memories seeping back in. Either way, a strange sense of relief washed over him as they started towards the War Room and the awaiting Task Force.

"Daddy!" Agnes' squealing voice broke him out of his thoughts as the little girl raced towards him, launching herself into his arms. He caught her mid-leap and spun around once, holding her at eye-level.

"Hey."

She giggled and leaned forward, pecking a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Hey!"

"Are you halfway to becoming a fed like your mom? Do we need to get you a badge?"

"No one's an agent quite like her mom," Ressler offered as he moved forward to join them. His gaze swept Howard up and down, sizing him up, before shifting back to Tom. "Where is Keen?"

"Chatting with Reddington."

Ressler quirked an eyebrow at that. "Should we be worried?"

Before he could offer his flippant response, Agnes tapped his shoulder. "Daddy, who's that?" She pointed around Howard.

"I'm your dad's dad," the older man answered without missing a beat and Tom shot him a glare.

Agnes tilted her head and narrowed her dark blue eyes at him from her own father's arm's. "Uh-huh."

The three men paused, unsure of how to respond to that, but finally Ressler cleared his throat. "Cooper wanted to speak with you," he told Howard plainly. "You remember the office?"

"Up the stairs over there?"

"Without getting lost in between," Ressler pressed and Howard offered a slow, subtle smile to Tom.

"Looks like I'm off to the principal's office."

"Don't give him too much trouble," Tom warned as Agnes started to squirm free of his hold and made her way back to the desk she'd been seated at when he'd arrived. Tom watched her as she moved without a word - more self sufficient than he thought a kid her age would have been - and finally turned back to Ressler. "Liz said an old teammate was a patient of Orchard's?"

"Samar Navabi. Remember her?"

The name struck a chord, but he couldn't pull a mental image to go along with it. He shook his head. "Not really. Who is she?"

"Aram's ex-fiance," Ressler answered, glancing back to the techie at his desk, nose buried so deeply in his work that Tom would have thought he was trying to avoid something even if the ex hadn't been mentioned.

"Did someone screw with her memories too?"

"Injury."

Tom grimaced, his mind coming up with half a dozen injuries that could have caused enough damage to have brought Dr Orchard in to help the woman, and none of them were good. "Has she been any help finding the good doctor?"

"Yeah. She was able to provide our sketch artist with a pretty detailed description and was even able to recall a partial license plate with some of the techniques that Orchard had been teaching her. We'll get her." The ginger agent did a quick glance around the War Room. "Any idea what they could be looking for with her? What they think she uncovered with you?"

"Katarina seems to think there's something there, but Orchard didn't find it if there is."

"Something like what?"

Tom shoved hard at the immediate reaction to buckle down on the scattered pieces of intel that they'd uncovered. Ressler was an ally. No. He was a friend. He'd proven that much. "I don't know for sure. The beach… when I was a kid. With Liz, from what she was saying."

"You two knew each other as kids?" Ressler managed.

"Is that new?"

"Yeah."

The taller man offered as casual of a shrug as he could manage. "Not sure exactly what she was after, but it sounded like Scottie might have hidden something with me. The two of them seem chummy enough. Not sure why they wouldn't just share." The lift sounded loudly and they both looked towards it.

"Your mom's on her way, so you can ask her when she gets here," Ressler offered. "Not that she seems to tell anything she doesn't want to tell."

"Howard."

"Say what?"

The door opened, emptying Liz and Reddington into the Post Office. Liz offered them a strained smile and Tom returned her look with a grimace of her own before turning back to Ressler. "From what I can tell those two don't want to be anywhere near each other."

"You're hoping to light a powder keg?"

Tom's lips twitched up at the corners. "That's the plan." He started forward towards Liz, leaving her partner behind at the desks.


Nez had wasted no time setting up her flight to Germany on one of Halcyon's less conspicuous jets and discreetly scheduling a meeting with a field operative that would meet her once she landed in Bonn. His name was Hans Roth and Scottie had been personally involved in his recruitment and cultivation, first as an asset and then as an agent. She and Solomon had worked with him on a couple of missions over the years, and while he didn't know the details of what this op now meant to her, he did know that it was top priority and had been given instructions to find out what he could without being spotted prior to her arrival.

She moved through the streets easily enough, her expression neutral even if she felt coiled and ready for any fight that came her way. She needed it. The feeling of cartilage giving to her knuckles or a bone snapping with just the right kick. Anything to take her mind off of the man she thought couldn't die. Hell, wouldn't die. He'd been stubborn enough, or at least she thought he was. Everyone had their limit though, and that's all she could hold onto when it came to this. Jonas Bauer - whoever he was - had a limit, and she was going to crush him under it.

Roth was waiting at the small coffee shop across from the highrise building where Bauer kept his offices. He offered a friendly wave as Nez approached, standing to greet her with a friendly smile and a quick kiss to the cheek as he murmured, "I heard about Solomon," in her ear. Okay. So he did know the full stakes of this op.

Nez held the ruse of a friend meeting another for a cup of coffee and sat down, speaking in flawless German. "Have you been here long?"

"A bit," he answered, his pale green eyes flickering to the building. "Not long enough for anything exciting to happen."

He hadn't seen him. Hadn't seen anything of consequence. While not surprising, she'd hoped for a quick break.

Roth re-took his seat and Nez let her gaze sweep the thin, mid-morning crowd. Finally, she took the seat across from him and took the menu that he pushed across the table to her. A folded slip of paper was tucked away inside. Nimble fingers worked easily to open it and she found a set of phone numbers. Good. At least she had something to start with. "Did you happen to catch anything?"

"No audio yet," Roth answered quietly so that only she could hear, "but I'm working on getting you connected to the second one in."

Connected. Possibly a meeting, but more likely a phone tap since he'd provided the numbers. He had to be careful what he said. When this was done, she'd be on a plane back to the US. His op would still be in Germany.

Movement caught her eye and she glanced towards a newcomer. Tall, dark, and familiar. She knew that man. "Give me a minute," she told Roth and stood again, making her way over. Pale eyes locked with dark and she held the tall man's gaze all the way to the table he'd been given. "It's been a while," she said in English.

Dembe Zuma - Reddington's most loyal man - tilted his chin up just a little. "I take it you're here for the same reason I am."

"The mocha is worth the nearly four thousand mile trip."

"I do not want to work against you."

"That'd be counterproductive, but I've never known your boss to be the sharing type."

"Nor yours."

"More so than yours." She leaned forward, studying him. Roth was good, but limited to setting her up and linking her to access. At one thing told her she would get further and faster with Dembe. "Neither of them are here though, and they want answers more than anything."

"What are you proposing?"

Nez's lips quirked up at the corners as a plan started to form in her mind. She knew what needed to be done.


She could picture him. Tall. Heavyset. Bald with a scruffy beard. He'd worn dark jeans and a leather jacket. Boots too. Scaly. Some sort of reptile, maybe? She could see it and somewhere in her mind she knew what her memory was pulling up, but the words had jumbled as soon as she had tried to tell the artist. She stumbled through the explanation. It should have been quick, but instead it took them hours to get it right, and by the end of it all she wanted to take his pencil and paper and throw it across the room.

Dr Orchard would have known how to call the words to mind. She could have helped her brain work the way it was supposed to, but she was gone, and it was everything Samar could do to try to help the woman that had helped her. Her head was aching and she leaned forward against the cold, metal table, resting her forehead there as she waited for someone to come back in. It wasn't like she didn't remember anything from the life she'd lived before her accident. She knew time was critical in getting Selma Orchard back alive and unharmed. Time that she'd cost them.

The door to the room opened, startling Samar and she jerked upright. The man she'd seen when she first entered stood there and she found herself staring at him. She knew him deep down in the way she knew her name or that she needed to draw air into her lungs. Aram. His name was Aram, and he was staring at her like he hadn't really meant to open that door.

"They couldn't possibly have found anything yet," she ventured.

"No."

"So this is personal?"

"Yeah."

She pulled a breath in through her nose, counted to four, and pushed it back out with the same count, trying to steady her mind. "If you have a question…"

"You said you remember me."

"I think I said that I know you," she answered evenly, finally allowing her eyes to open and meet his. She felt flickers of memories teasing at the edges of her mind. Feelings, really, more than anything concrete, but she was almost certain his was the face that matched the man she couldn't quite recall. She'd dreamt about him, spoken to Orchard about him. He was the one she wanted to remember, but now that she sat in the same room as him, she couldn't help feeling like he was watching her with hesitation. That whatever memory that she felt like she was teetering on the edge of was different than what he knew. She hated that. "Who was I to you?"

"We were engaged," Aram answered softly, pain woven into his words. "I asked you to marry me and then…. you started having trouble. You left without me."

"I was trying to protect you." The words escaped her before she ever gave them permission to and she wasn't sure that they were right until she saw the guilt etched into his face.

"I know. And I didn't chase after you because I was trying to protect you."

There was more pain in his tone than she could have ever expected and she found herself standing, never quite willing to break eye contact. She opened her mouth, emotions surging without words that could quantify them, and she took a step towards him. Finally, she found something. "Dr Orchard told me that having an…. anchor would help."

"Anchor?" he asked, tilting his head in question, but the rest of him was rigid as if he were afraid she'd move closer.

"Something - someone - from my past to hold onto. I had this contact… I couldn't even remember where she came from, just that I knew I could trust her and she was absolute in that I couldn't reach out to anyone from my past. That doing so would put them in danger." His gaze was locked on hers now and her words tumbled out, and she couldn't have stopped them if she tried. "I had these dreams…. A man without a face. I trusted him. I….. loved him, but he was always just out of reach."

"Samar," Aram breathed and he took a step further into the room.

"I think I wanted you to be safe," she confessed.

He looked like the words had physically struck him and he grimaced, squeezing his eyes closed before forcing them back open. "I don't care. Since you've been gone I've been…. lost. I tried. I tried to move on. I threatened Mr Reddington. I thought I could make him take me to you, but he made it clear I was only going to put you in more danger. That I'd be your…." He stopped, and she thought he saw the beginning of tears in his eyes. "That I'd be the weak link. I couldn't do that, so I tried to move on and was…. a disaster."

Part of her wanted to smile at that, but something stopped her. "Why?"

"Because she wasn't you," he whispered after a long moment. "But I'm not sure that you're you anymore either."

The words struck like a knife and Samar stared at him, not looking away even as someone approached from behind. The young FBI agent stopped, his expression anxious and his tone matching that. "Agent Mojtabai? We had a hit on a traffic cam that matches Dr Orchard. They need you in the War Room."

Aram looked at the young agent for a moment that felt longer than it actually was before turning to Samar.

"Let me know if I can help," she offered, something in her hating that it was all she thought she could offer.

He nodded, though, and darted down the hall to leave her alone with her raging thoughts.


Once Selma had been caught on a traffic cam, everything started to fall into place. She had been taken in DC - one of the few things they had known - and, as best as they could piece together, smuggled out to a private airport where they had likely taken a small aircraft without a filed flight plan. They turned up along Route 55 in New Jersey and the alert had been triggered. Now Aram was on the phone working to coordinate local law enforcement and Park was on another line getting them access to quick travel. That left Liz and Ressler leaned over a digital map, tracing possible routes that they would take and where they might be heading.

"They could be about to load her on a boat to ship her overseas," Liz murmured, finger hovering over and down the different highways they had access to.

"They'd be heading north, not south," Ressler countered.

"If they were going straight to a cargo ship, sure, but they could be hopping on a private boat that can make it across the ocean or taking a smaller one up the coast just out of our jurisdiction."

"You think they're heading to the coast?"

"Don't you?"

She watched Ressler's brows knit together, as he looked at all the angles, but it was Tom's voice behind them that drew Liz's attention. "I'm going with you."

Ressler frowned. "No way, pal. You're not an agent, you're not on the case."

"Is that where we're drawing the line now?"

"It is when we have to coordinate with local law enforcement. You're kind of hard to explain."

Tom studied him for half a beat before turning towards her. "Liz -"

"He's right," she cut him off. "We have the rescue party covered. You'll do more good here."

"Agnes is fine while we -"

"I know she is, but I meant Howard and Scottie and…. all of that." He looked like a deer in the headlight with that one and thankfully Ressler muttered a soft meet you in the garage before scurrying off to give them a private moment. They didn't have long and she needed to find a way to express what she wanted - needed - him to understand. "Tom…"

"I don't know what I don't remember," he confessed softly, his gaze fixed on his boots.

Liz reached forward, her fingers against the side of his face and he leaned into her touch. "You didn't know with them before, but you knew that they were trying to pull one over on us. Trust yourself. I do."

He looked up at that, the barest of smiles touching his lips. "You have a lot of faith in me."

"Hard earned."

"Yeah?"

Her own lips tilted up and she tipped up on her toes, eyes drifting closed as he bent to meet her in the middle, the kiss soft and reassuring. She hated leaving him like this, but he knew more than he gave himself credit for. What he didn't have solid memories to back up, he had instincts, and those instincts had always been good.

"I still think I should go with you," he whispered as they broke.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"Promise?"

"Promise." She pressed another quick kiss into place before turning. She had a job to do. They both did.


She preferred meeting on her own terms, in her own buildings, and with her own protocols in place, but there hadn't been any leeway in the so-called request that had come through that led Scottie Hargrave to the underground bunker that her daughter-in-law referred to as the Post Office. With everything that had happened, she shouldn't be surprised that she was being summoned in that way. She could only be thankful that Tom's presence had been confirmed.

Dark eyes blinked against the sun as she stepped out of her personal car and caught sight of familiar red hair just ahead of her. Katarina was looking the building up and down, nose crinkled and head tilted. Scottie didn't attempt to quiet her steps as she came to stand beside her.

"Not as showy as yours," Katarina mused.

Scottie shrugged. "Government budget."

She heard Katarina make a small sound of disgust as she started past her to an exterior door. She pushed her way through it and was instantly met by an armed guard in uniform. She flashed her credentials and motioned back to the woman she had entered with. "She's with me."

"ID?" he guard prompted and Katarina looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"It's fine," Scottie answered and the two women moved in lockstep to the lift as if they were both supposed to be there. They were, she'd wager, even if Katarina had likely received the address from Reddington rather than from Cooper. The feds would be prickly about it, but they really should learn which battles to fight. Trying to keep their secret base secret from Katarina Rostova was a losing battle that only they would even wage war on.

The lift doors didn't open and Scottie turned an irritable look back at the man. "I'm not let anyone into that base without proper authority."

Katarina made a move towards him and Scottie reached out, catching her by the wrist and stopping her before she decided to handle the situation by her own methods. With her free hand, Scottie dialed her cell and held it up to her ear. It rang once, twice, and then on the third time she heard a voice on the other end, the surprise only making it through if you knew what to listen for. "Cooper."

"Harold," Scottie all but purred. "Be a dear and let us in."

"Us?"

"Who do you think? You already have my husband down there. How many were you expecting to this little get-together?"

She heard what she thought was a sigh from the other end of the line before Cooper told her to hand the phone over to the guard. She did with a smile that covered the aggravation she was feeling and he let them in. The doors closed before she risked a look over at Katarina and found those pale eyes focused intently on her. "Have you spoken to them?"

"No."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Well, someone had to fetch Howard out of custody, so…."

Katarina's eyes lit at that. "That's what Raymond left out."

"Like Howard, Reddington leaves out as much as he thinks he can get away with." The old lift squealed to a stop at the bottom level and the doors somehow managed to open, though they sounded like they might freeze where they were through the entire process. Scottie resisted the urge to sigh, but instead steeled her expression as she strode into what felt like the lion's den.

Harold Cooper was speaking sternly to an unphased Reddington while Aram Mojtabai and Tom bent over the agent's desk, intent on something there. Howard stood to the side, quietly watching everything around them as Agnes coloured on the opposite side of the desk.

The little girl looked up, her smile bright as she launched herself off her stool and towards Scottie. "Did you bring me ice cream?"

Scottie felt the corners of her lips twitch up on their own at the question. "I didn't know you would be here, so I didn't know to bring it. Next time."

Agnes took her by the hand, pulling her towards a crowd with several faces conspicuously missing. She ignored Katarina, who Scottie could feel watching from behind. "Mommy and Uncle Donnie and Ms Park are catching bad guys."

"Are they?" Dark eyes flickered to Tom. "Have you been a big help to your daddy here?"

"Uh-huh."

Howard stood and crossed to where their son was, speaking quietly with him even as Agnes pulled Scottie over. He looked up conspiratorially and Tom just looked irritated. "Take that up with her," he snapped.

Scottie quirked an eyebrow as Howard turned towards her and then behind her where Katarina lingered. "Here to finish the job, Scottie?"

"If you mean to help protect our son, yes," she answered coolly.

"The time to protect him was when he was a child, but instead you put a bullseye on his back. Him and Liz." His gaze flickered behind her.

"Oh, Howard, I'd heard your mind was deteriorating, but I had no idea it had gone that far," Katarina chirped from behind her and Scottie didn't miss the quick look he shot his mother-in-law. "Such a shame."

Howard straightened, his expression darkening. "You used them. You both did! They were children and you used them to move your secrets and hide away your plans. What did you think would happen, Scottie? You knew them. You knew what they were capable of, but you did it anyway. You used him to —"

"Enough," Scottie snapped. "We're here to help end this. To protect our children and their child, not to rehash all of your conspiracy theories that put you away in the first place. I'm not the enemy here, Howard."

"You're certainly not an ally," he answered, but a notification chimes loudly, drawing everyone's attention.

Aram Mojtabai reaches over to his laptop to scroll through it. "We have them."

"Where?" Cooper demanded, breaking away from Reddington.

"A call came in. Looks like a woman meeting Dr Orchard's description was spotted down along the coast in South East New Jersey. A man with her fits the sketch of the guy Samar saw as well."

Scottie felt a chill run up her spine. "Where, exactly?"

"Uhh…. looks like…. Cape May, New Jersey."

Likely no one missed the look Reddington and Katarina shared. It was a trap. They both knew it was a trap. They weren't the only ones.

"Call Elizabeth," Reddington commanded and Katarina moved over to him, speaking quickly and quietly.

The line rang loudly in the tense room and Scottie risked a look at her son. He was watching the large screen with a map marked where the call had come in from, his focus absolute until Agnes tugged on his hand. Without missing a beat he leaned down and scooped his daughter up, pressing a kiss to the side of her head and whispering something. She folded over his shoulder with her arms around his neck as the line connected.

"Ressler."

"Are you on location?" Cooper asked.

"On our way. ETA is about twenty minutes. Local PD and HRT will meet us on site," Ressler answered.

Reddington took a step forward. "Donald? You need to get Elizabeth out of there."

"What's going on?" Liz's voice filtered through what was clearly a phone on speaker.

"Schmitz is luring you there."

"We have traffic cam footage time to confirm the call," Aram offered from his seat, glancing between Reddington and Harold Cooper. "Dr Orchard is there."

"Bait for the trap," Katarina said tightly.

"Care to expand on that? Anyone?" Elizabeth growled, her frustration worked into every syllable.

Movement caught her attention from the corner of Scottie's eye as Howard shifted and she shot him a warning look. "What? Are you still so caught up on your secrets you'll risk her life for it?" he demanded and turned to Reddington and Katarina. "You, I believe," he directed at the red headed double agent, "but Red…. you took her away to protect her once. Tell her what her mother and Scottie did to her. What they're really after."

Reddington cringed at that. "Elizabeth, if you go in, they will take you. The answers that they want - that they've killed for - lie with you."

Silence met them for a long moment before Elizabeth answered. "They have killed, and they will again unless we help her. Selma got caught up in this because I asked her to help. I won't leave her there."

Reddington turned to Cooper. "Harold, you must call this off."

All eyes turned on the assistant director for his answer, but it didn't have time to tumble off his lips. From the other end of the line came shouting, squealing tires, and a deafening crash.


TBC

Notes: One of the funny things about writing on your phone is that you don't always realize just how long the chapters get, especially if you edit on your phone too. :P

Next Time: Liz, Ressler, and Park land themselves in trouble while the others look for the missing answer in Tom's childhood memories.