Chapter Thirty
The moment of truth had been if Nez was willing to walk away from the unconscious Jonas Bauer. Liz's bet had been that she wouldn't find shooting an unconscious man nearly as satisfying as watching the life leave his eyes. Good thing that she'd been right.
A hand grabbed her, dragging her back into the room with force. "The window is our best bet."
Liz spun to look at her. "We're on the third story," she countered, wondering if while she had read Nez's actions in regards to Bauer right she had misjudged the other woman's will to live.
"Still better than being riddled with bullets by automatic weapons," Nez said as she shut the heavy door. They moved together without speaking, but Liz studied the other woman as they shuffled a large, heavy table in front of the door as a barricade. Combined military and Halcyon training left her movements sharp and precise, each step mentally calculated out. She was a professional through and through, and maybe that would be enough to get her out of what must have been a suicide mission alive.
Nez moved to the window and threw it open, Liz joining her there. "They would have heard the shots here. The curtains should be long enough to get us down to the room below and buy us some time to get to the stairwell. Most of the security will be on their way here. We shouldn't have any problem with the rest." She found a pair of pale eyes fixed in her. "What?"
"Honestly, I never saw it before. You and Tom. I get it now."
"Thank you?"
The barest of smiles touched Nez's lips, but she didn't bother with a verbal response as she ripped the curtains from their respective rods. Liz helped her tie them together and secure them to shimmy down, thankful for her love of thick-soled boots as she kicked the French windows open below.
They were met with as little resistance as they had anticipated, taking out the scattered guards between them and the exit, and the pilfered weapons they got their hands on for them out the back gate. Liz risked a look around, shouts in German drawing her attention for the briefest of moments before Nez dragged her back behind a large bush. They waited, barely breathing, until the danger had passed and they could risk moving again.
She watched Nez check her phone and noted the way the lines in her face deepened just a little as she pulled her cell phone out and typed. "I'm sorry," Liz said quietly.
"Believe it or not, I wasn't there to rescue you."
"I meant about Solomon."
Nez's fingers froze over the keys and Liz watched her carefully reset. "Well, we can't all get the men in our lives back from the dead with just a few memories missing," she snapped.
Liz swallowed the retort about it being more than a few - some things just weren't helpful - and Nez seemed to notice. "Thank you. For what it's worth, I have a lot of respect for your husband. I'm glad he's alright."
"You were here for Bauer."
"Yeah."
"Alone?"
"Well, I came to Germany alone. I didn't stage the infiltration alone."
Liz didn't have a chance to ask her what they meant as they rounded a corner into an alley, nearly colliding with Dembe. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief at the friendly face and launched herself at him, her arms around his neck. He returned the embrace readily. "It is good to see you, Elizabeth."
"You two need to move fast," Nez said, motioning to the adjacent street that had more activity than it deserved at that hour.
"What do you mean?" Liz demanded. "You're coming with us."
"You said it earlier: I'm here for Bauer."
"You'll never get to him now."
"I'll give it my best."
"You'll get yourself killed trying, and what good will that do?"
"Nez." Dembe's calm and even tone cut through the building argument. "This is not the last time our paths will cross Bauer's, and there is better strength in numbers."
Liz reached out, her touch on the other woman's arm light. "Come with us."
There was a long moment of indecision before Nez finally grunted what Liz hoped was an agreement. "Do we have an extraction?"
Dembe nodded. "Yes, as long as we can make it out of Bonn."
Reddington had been on the phone more since they had gotten airborne than Tom could remember seeing before. Some conversations were easier to identify. He thought one was Katarina. The short, terse words that gave little away and Reddington moved to the back of the plane under the guise of pouring himself a drink. Cooper was another call. That one Red apparently had no issue with Tom overhearing as he took a seat directly across from the younger man, crossed one knee over the other, and provided a vague update in that condescending tone of his. Yes, they had found Liz, yes his "people" had her, but no he would not give the FBI her location to go in and complicate the situation. Definitely Cooper.
Tom hit decline on his own phone, Scottie's number vanishing as a missed call, and he leaned forward in his seat as Reddington ended the conversation with what sounded like an increasingly irate assistant director on the other end of the line. "You never told me what the message you got said."
"You're right. I didn't," Reddington answered, his tone hollow as he sipped at his drink.
"You just told Cooper that your people have her. Who is that? What does that mean?" A long enough moment passed that it was clear that Reddington had no interest offering any clarity. Tom leaned a little further forward. "Hey. You want my help, you need to read me in."
"I didn't want your help. I would have preferred you lend your talents to getting the Archive to a safe location so that it can be used to ensure Elizabeth's safety moving forward, but you were determined to come along."
"You needed backup, which means whatever people of yours that Liz is with aren't very many." He settled back again. "How did you get someone out there that quick anyway? Even if you had an idea they were taking her overseas, no way your people had enough time to do the groundwork it would have taken to find her, which means they were already there. Which means you were already watching the top dog in this fight." Reddington didn't show it in his expression, but his careful silence gave his discomfort away. Tom was close, just like he had been when he pressed to confirm what Howard had told them about Reddington's connection to Liz. "It's Jonas Bauer, isn't it?"
"Who it is doesn't matter."
"Like hell it doesn't," Tom snapped.
"Dembe will get her to the extraction point and this will all be behind her soon."
"I need to know —"
"No!" Reddington growled, his gaze flashing towards Tom dangerously. "You think you do, and that is what started all of this! If you had simply left well enough alone, if you hadn't trusted Kate so implicitly and rifled around in things you couldn't possibly comprehend, Elizabeth would be safe now. That choice, you and the damn bones, led us here." He collapsed back in his seat, the sudden outburst over at least for the moment.
Tom loosed a small, startled breath as the words worked memories into place for the puzzle on whole. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Kate. I get wanting to kill you after what you did to her, but why use Liz? Someone she cared about."
"It wasn't about Elizabeth in the end, because there was a time that Kate understood why Katarina and I buried the truth so deeply. Elizabeth was… a pawn, I suppose, just as you were. A way to tear down all the protections I had put in place."
"We were pawns because no one would tell us the truth. I love Liz. Please. Let me help you protect her." He waited and Red said nothing. "This Bauer…. did he know the real Reddington? Is that what brought him into this."
Reddington sighed, his gaze drifting to the window. "He never met him. Ray was… a friend to me. Young and alone just like me, with hopes and aspirations."
"But you killed him?"
"No, but he is dead because of me," Reddington admitted with a touch of sadness.
He was missing something. A key piece that would explain the link with Bauer.
"Bauer took Elizabeth to lure Katarina out. Likely because he believes she can lead him to his son."
"Is that you? Are you Bauer's son?"
Reddington drew in a shaky breath and released his answer on it. "Nicholai died many ago."
"And became Raymond Reddington." The truth hung between them. "That's why you're going…. to give yourself up for her? She won't want that."
"He wants me more than her… as long as he never finds out who she is to him."
And there it was. The reason Reddington never wanted Liz to know he was her father. But she did, and Tom didn't need all of his memories to know that she loved him. "She doesn't want to lose you," he said again firmly.
"Perhaps she won't," he said softly. "But life has taught me to have contingency plans." He turned to meet Tom's gaze. "When I first hired you, it was to protect her. After everything, I believe you'll do just that."
He swallowed hard, and he hated how small his words sounded. "She'll never forgive me."
Reddington gave a thin, mirthless smile. "She will, in time, because she loves you."
Tom nodded, the movement small and stiff. He hoped that was true, but he wasn't sure he was ready to test that hope.
Agnes had slipped Agent Markum again. The young agent had been nearly frantic over it - not a personality trait that Aram had seen in her before she had received this particular assignment - as she moved briskly from one desk to the next to peer under them in hopes that the little girl had tucked herself away there in an impromptu game of hide-and-seek. She hadn't, and since Aram was stuck in a holding pattern until news came in from one source or another, he had offered to help.
He had looked in Liz's office, in the interrogation room, and he was on his way back to the lockers when a high-pitched giggle caught his attention. Aram pivoted around to redirect towards the stairs and the small break area - rarely used for actual breaks - at the top of them. He stopped, listened, and started up as quietly as he could when he heard Agnes chattering away at the top.
"See? Here's the trees and the, and the lake. Here's a puppy and a horse -"
"What's a horse doing in the park?"
Aram paused halfway up the stairs, Samar's voice like a knife in his chest.
"Playing with the puppy," Agnes answered matter-of-factly.
Samar's soft laugh somehow managed to simultaneously gut him and lift his spirits at once. He wasn't sure which won out.
"Who is that?"
"Mommy and Daddy. That's me."
"Do you go to the park with them a lot?"
"Maybe when I was little," Agnes said in a way only a child could. "Daddy was gone and then he didn't remember anything."
"Really?"
"Uh-huh. He's getting better."
"That's good."
"Uh-huh. Hi, Uncle 'Ram."
Aram blinked hard and he had no idea when he'd taken the last few steps to the top of the landing, but there he was, standing and staring at Agnes and Samar who were curled up on the old, battered couch with a sketchbook between them. In that same split second that he realized he was there, he watched the calm joy wash out of Samar's expression and she seemed to shrink back a little. She'd been her until she had known he was watching. He wasn't sure what to make of that. "Hi."
"You wanna draw with us?"
"I do, but you know, Agent Markum is looking for you."
Agnes turned intentionally back to her sketch pad and flipped the page. "She didn't wanna colour."
Samar reached forward to the coffee table in front of them and grabbed one of the crayons there. As she settled back, Aram found himself thinking of happier days when a baby Agnes had just gotten home from where her would-be-grandfather had tried to kidnap her and he and Samar had sat together on that very couch sharing leftovers from all of his favourite restaurants that Janet - Elise, he'd thought at the time - had cobbled together to make the perfect dinner date. Somehow, as perfect as the date with Janet or Elise or whoever he'd thought had seemed, sharing those leftovers with Samar had been better. There'd been other women that he knew in varying degrees and that always seemed to have some ulterior motive in his life, but with Samar things had been… maybe not simple, but it had been right. Things didn't have to be simple when they were right.
Which this was not. Not anymore. He'd made that decision. He'd fought that battle with himself, and it had led to the brutal understanding that to keep her safe, he couldn't be with her. Even now, sitting right in front of him and reminding him so much of the woman he loved, he couldn't be with her. If he were honest, it had nothing to with being the woman that had walked away from him to keep him safe or not. People changed. They grew, and he'd hoped once that they could get to know those changes each new day together, but even if he got to know the new Samar here and now - and no matter how much he wanted to fight it, Aram knew he'd love this Samar too, because she was still there when she wasn't fighting to remember - he'd have to let her go all over again.
"Are you alright?"
He sucked in a breath, finding himself lost in those beautiful eyes of hers and utterly unable to speak.
"Uncle 'Ram, come colour with us!" Agnes demanded.
He nodded numbly, forcing a smile. "Just for a few minutes."
The fact that Raymond had slipped away without warning and taken Masha's husband with him was not ideal, but they were gone and there was nothing that could be done about that now. The boy was good. Even without Scottie to guide him he'd grown into a talented operative that she could trust to protect her daughter. Raymond could too, even if he wouldn't admit that quite as easily, and it was likely why he'd taken Masha's husband with him. She could only hope that the two of them could get in and get her out. If they had any snag along the way, if Raymond got too close to the man that was calling himself Jonas Bauer, nothing good could come of it.
At least he didn't know who Raymond was, and shouldn't if he just kept his mouth shut. Scottie had sent one of her pet operatives to Bonn for information and the woman had linked up with Dembe. If this Rowan was half as good as Scottie claimed, they would get her out of there. Raymond had no business jumping into the fire. He was letting his emotions get the best of him and that had always been a weakness of his. One that he had worked to tame over the years, but a weakness nevertheless. It did no good to rush in to save her if he didn't have the key to bringing the whole damn house of cards down around his head.
She might not be able to do anything about the fact that he'd left, but she didn't have to like it.
A soft, frustrated breath left Katarina as she crossed the room, removing yet another painting from the wall to see if she could find signs of a hidden compartment. Nothing. Just like every other room in this forsaken place. Perhaps Brigitte had known what they had planned and her last act in this life had been to leave them a map to nowhere. While it wouldn't have been typical for her, there was no telling what a cornered person was capable of.
Katarina squeezed her eyes shut and flung the painting against the wall of the dining room in a rare fit of frustration.
"What the hell was that?" Scottie called as she rounded the corner into view, her heels tapping against the solid wood under them.
Solid until one point.
Both women froze at the hollow echo beneath expensive heels and in an instant they were on their knees and looking for a hidden latch. Katarina's fingers found it and they pulled together, revealing a hidden door that led deeply into a basement that wasn't apparent from the outside of the house. The stairs were steep, closer to a ladder, and they started down.
It was dark except for the lights dancing from the floor to the ceiling against what looked like a back wall. Katarina started forward, barely able to breathe in anticipation, and jumped as lights flashed on. She turned to find Scottie with her long fingers wrapped around a pull cord attached to an old light bulb. The other woman's dark gaze flickered up and down, taking it in. She had been instrumental in gaining access to the technology that had allowed them to securely set up the Archive. Data was siphoned and bounced all over the globe before being delivered to those very servers. It was nearly impossible to trace, and even if someone had managed it, there were precious few people left that could access it and only one person that would have an intimate enough knowledge of the tech to quickly sift through it to separate the Cabal's secrets from those that would - as they had planned so many years ago - reignite the Cold War.
"You know there's a chance he won't agree to help us," Scottie said softly.
"If he's half the patriot he's convinced himself he is, he will." He had to, otherwise Raymond was going to do something exceptionally foolish.
"He's going to think I tried to kill him to keep it safe."
Katarina snorted and found her friend looking at her. She waved it off. "This should exonerate you. You always needed him if this day came. That's why you used it. To protect him."
"The things we do for the ones we love."
"Make the call. This needs to happen now or there won't be anyone left to love."
Scottie closed her eyes and for the briefest of moments Katarina thought she might be rethinking her part in all of this. When she re-opened them, though, all of that old resolve that had made her so dangerous for so long was back. She pulled her phone out, checked the bars, and started for the stairs. Katarina stood and waited, listening for her to make that call.
All she heard was the gunshot.
Dembe had said they had an extraction plan if they could just make it out of Bonn. The problem was that Bauer's people knew they were there and knew they were trying to leave. Liz couldn't help but feel like she was being herded, cut off from every useful exit and pushed towards the one that her enemies wanted them at. The one they could use to close in on them.
If the look on Nez's face was anything to go by, she felt the same way.
The three of them had to split at one point to reconvene at a small pastry shop several blocks away. Liz had worried about the other woman getting there, worried that she might take the opportunity to go after Bauer alone. Liz understood the drive, the need for revenge and justice, but Nez had always struck her as an intelligent woman, not someone that would needlessly toss her own life away without any hope of finishing the job. It was good to know she had a good read on her husband's former partner.
Nez sat on a stool in the back room of the shop, a half-eaten danish on a napkin balanced on her knee, and Dembe was pacing on a call. His dark gaze flickered up as Liz entered. "She's here," he told the person on the other end of the line and extended it out to her a moment later. She wasn't surprised to hear Raymond Reddington's voice filtered over the line.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, we all are. For now." She risked a glance out the door. Something about this windowless office in the back with only one way in or out was making her nervous. "Feeling a little cornered here. Tell me you know this Franz guy."
"Since he was born," Reddington assured her.
"And he can get us out of here?"
"Do you remember how we planned to smuggle you out of D.C. when the Cabal framed you?"
Liz pushed a long breath out through her nose, seeing where he was going with this. "You mean how you planned to smuggle me out and how I had to improvise? Do I need to remind you that there's three of us now?"
"Dembe and Colonel Rowan are quite capable of —"
"It's all three or none at all." Liz said firmly.
Reddington snorted on the other end of the line. "I'd expect nothing less."
She felt her lips twitch up at the corner before she forced her mind into a more focused place. "Even if we make it to whatever extraction point your people have set up for us, this guy is going to keep coming. He thinks… He thinks my mother's handler stole his son away."
Liz listened, and his silence was a tell. Of what she wasn't sure yet.
Finally, loosed a breath. "Elizabeth, I know how…. drawn you are to stories like this…"
"I want to get out of here. I want to get home to my own family. His is his business." For now, at any rate.
She could practically hear the sigh of relief even if it sounded like he was struggling to keep it to himself. "Dembe has instructions where you'll meet your flight out. Trust him and you'll be home to your family in no time."
She bit the inside of her cheeks, struggling with her words before releasing them. "I trust you."
"Liz," Nez hissed from the entrance, danish forgotten. It was time to go. They would handle whatever fixation Bauer had in her mother once they were home free.
TBC
Notes: Congrats to Becca! You guessed right, and you it's definitely a doozy XD
I hope everyone had a fantastic New Year and a good start to 2021!
Next Time: Howard and Samar have a chat about memories while difficult choices are made in Germany.
