Chapter Thirty-Three
They weren't telling her any more than they had to, which left considerable gaps in the information that Park was able to obtain from her hospital bed relatively fresh out of surgery that had pulled a bullet fragment out of her left shoulder. The charges had come out of left field and she'd found herself staring at the federal agent reading them off. She was FBI, she'd tried to explain. Part of a task force that answered Assistant Director Harold Cooper. Reach out to him. He'd confirm her place on his team.
Assistant Director Harold Cooper had a warrant for his arrest issued at the same time Park's had been.
Something was going on, and if she were to take a guess, it had to do with the case they'd been neck deep in for weeks now. Elizabeth Keen's family, the Sikorsky Archive, and this Cabal that everyone but her seemed to have come into contact with. Well, she could have lived happily on the outside of that knowledge if it'd kept her from having her name and reputation dragged through the mud. Especially cut off from her team. She needed to find a way to contact them. Park tugged lightly at the cuff around her wrist that bound her to the bed, her other arm equally useless in a sling, and movement outside of the closed blinds on the windows of her room caught her attention.
"Thank you," she heard a woman's voice as the door opened. British, she thought, and its owner appeared, dressed in a grey pants suit with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a badge that read FBI on it. "Special Agent Alina Park," she greeted.
"Yes. Are you going to be the one that gives me an answer to what the hell is going on here?"
The blonde shut the door behind her and her blue gaze darted ever so slightly. "Some evidence has surfaced -"
"I think you and I know that that's bullshit."
"Do we?"
"Somebody does. Cooper, Ressler, Mojtabai…. They're good people. Whatever they're saying we did is wrong."
"I know." Her voice was quiet, careful, as if she didn't want it to carry. "Are you able to walk?"
Well that took a quick turn. Park tugged at the cuff and the metal sounded against the plastic siding and matched her quieter tone. "If you let me go, sure."
"Right. Okay. I can pick a lock, in theory." She was becoming more and more nervous by the moment as she moved to the bedside. "I need you to keep talking. They think this is an interrogation."
"They also think you're a federal agent, don't they?"
"They do." She started working on the lock, muttering under her breath about the pins.
"I'm not going with you if I don't know who you are," Park warned.
"Oh. So sorry. Kat Carlson. Halcyon Aegis. I work directly for Scottie Hargrave."
"Tom Keen's mother."
"Yes." She didn't like something in her lock picking and cursed under her breath. "I'm not a field agent."
"But Scottie sent you?"
"We're limited on who we can trust, as I'm sure you're aware."
"Please tell me you're not alone."
"No, no. Dumont has another -" she checked her watch - "sixty seconds or so before he lines up our exit. There."
The cuff popped open and Park flexed her hand briefly before looking to Kat Carlson who looked to be waiting for something in turn. A moment passed, then another. Finally, an alarm screamed and the lights in the hallway went out. An immediate reaction could be heard from the other side of the door before it opened. "I have her," Kat promised and the agent took her at her word, disappearing again. She turned back to Park. "Okay, get up. We have to move."
"Did your guy kill the power? This is a hospital. People -"
"No, no. Don't worry. Just the lights." She put her hand to her ear and listened to someone on the other end of the comm. "We need to move. Here."
Park took what she quickly realized was a tranq gun. "Really?"
"It's not their fault the Cabal is using them."
"Fair enough. Let's go."
"Are we there yet, Miss Samar?"
Samar looked to the back seat where the little girl was buckled in as well as she could be without a booster seat. She hadn't had a chance to be picky when she'd popped the lock on the vehicle and hot wired it, the movements coming as easy as breathing. It was strange. She didn't remember that she remembered it, but the muscle memory was there. Maybe the other memories were too. She just needed access to them, like Howard had said.
"Miss Samar?"
The voice pulled her from her thoughts and she focused her attention. "Close."
"Will Mommy and Daddy be there?"
"We can't go where they are."
"Because it's dangerous?"
"Yeah."
"Is where we're going dangerous?"
"I hope not." Samar had been the only one other than Liz to be completely left out of the litany of charges that they had found. Aram had made sure to check several aliases, some that she didn't even know, and had said that it looked like she'd been an oversight. The problem was that Agnes' photo had been released in the form of an Amber Alert. They couldn't just take a cab to Samar's place, hence the stolen car.
"It's okay. I'll protect you," Agnes said and Samar glanced in the rear view mirror to find a face far too serious for any kid her age to be wearing. She meant it.
"How about we protect each other? Will that work?" There was a long moment as she thought it over before nodding. "Okay. Good, because we're going to have to walk a few blocks. You ready?"
"Yep!"
Samar pulled in a steady breath. She hoped she was too.
Something wasn't right.
They had landed in a field to avoid suspicious eyes and Edward was on his way to a secure location to make sure that the plane would be usable if they needed to make another quick escape. Chuck and Morgan met them with an SUV and a van, both fairly nondescript, that was meant to take them to the safe house that the others had set up. Nez was on a call with Scottie getting the exact location, but there was something about her posture and the way she turned so that they couldn't see her face or read her lips that screamed that something wasn't right.
"I don't like it," Liz grumbled and glanced over to see Tom nod in agreement.
"I don't like any of it."
Nez ended the call and turned back to them, doing nothing to alleviate that unease. "Good news is that we don't have far to go. There's a safe house owned under several layers of shelf companies here in Maryland."
"And Agnes?" Tom prompted.
"Safe. Apparently Samar Navabi's back in the mix? The Cabal didn't seem to know that either. She's got her until this blows over."
That wasn't it though. Liz straightened, steeling herself. "What's the bad news?"
Nez cringed subtly at the question. "Dumont started monitoring the law enforcement channels as soon as they got there. Donald Ressler was arrested."
"Where?" Liz demanded.
"Leaving DC. He made it as far as Glenmont and was pulled over by the county police."
"That's not too far from here."
"Elizabeth," Dembe said quietly. "Raymond did not turn himself over to lose you here. Agent Ressler will be safe."
She squared her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full height that was still considerably shorter than the tall man. "He'll be safe because I'm going to go get him. Don't look at me like that. My name is the only one not being added to every arrest warrant in the metroplex."
"We don't know how long that will last," Nez pointed out.
"There's a reason Liz's name was left out of it," Tom said, his quiet voice drawing attention, "so there's no reason to think they'll release it late. With her badge, she's got the best shot at getting him out."
She stared, his immediate support on the issue not what she had expected, but she was grateful. "Thank you."
"But I'm going with you."
Okay, maybe not immediate support. Or a whole lot of thought. "Your name's out there too."
"And I've spent the better part of my life flying under the radar with all kinds of warrants out in a number of aliases," he countered. "I get that you need to do this, but you're not doing it alone."
"Pretty sure we've got a government license plate we can put on," Morgan offered and Dembe shot him a frustrated look. Liz had worked with the duo long enough to know better than to ask how.
"The longer we wait, the more roadblocks get in our way," Nez warned.
Tom turned to look at her. "Either we both go or neither of us do. You're not going at it alone."
She swallowed the urge to remind him that he couldn't dictate what she could or couldn't do and instead weighed the options. He wasn't wrong that she needed backup, and while she might be able to take Chuck or Morgan, if shit hit the fan she needed someone she worked well with, not just a warm body. She knew how Tom thought, she knew how he fought. If it came down to it, they would protect each other. "Alright."
A few minutes to change the plates out on the SUV and a quick talk with Dembe to promise him that they would reconvene at the safe house after they got Ressler out, Liz and Tom were on their way, Liz in the driver's seat. They pulled out through the brush and onto the road. She couldn't help but picture Reddington as he'd given himself up or of Ressler in holding without any idea if backup would come for him. Park had been injured and briefly placed into custody, Nez had lost the man she loved, and there was no guarantee any of them would make it out of this one. After everything, all the pain and all the struggle and the secrets that tore at them to their very souls, it couldn't end here. She wouldn't let it. She wouldn't let Bauer win.
Tom touched her elbow lightly, startling her out of her thoughts. "We're going to get him out," he promised.
Liz realized just how tightly she had been gripping the wheel and forced her fingers to loosen around it. "He's only in trouble because of me. Because he was helping me, because he's linked to me. And Reddington wouldn't have had to give himself up if they hadn't caught me in New Jersey."
"This is not your fault. Hey." He waited until she glanced out of the corner of her eye at him. "This is not your fault."
"Maybe not…. but I'm at the center of it all."
"We both are."
They were, weren't they? But he hadn't needed to be. "You wouldn't be if I had just left you alone."
"I also wouldn't have a clue who I was. Who we are," he said tightly.
"But you'd be safe."
"So what? I'd rather take the whole damn world on than not know you and Agnes."
Liz blinked hard as her vision blurred, tears threatening. She didn't dare risk the dam breaking by answering him, but instead took her right hand off the wheel and reached out. He took it instantly and a flicker of peace pushed back against the chaos threatening to drown her. Maybe it was selfish - no, scratch that, she knew it was - but she was glad to have him there. It always felt like they had a fighting chance when they took the fight on together.
Ressler was being held at a small sheriff's station. A couple of security cams, only one patrol car parked outside, and nothing looked like it had been updated in the current century. This was going to be child's play.
Tom tugged the hat that read FBI in bold print down a little lower and adjusted the windbreaker. Whatever Chuck and Morgan had been planning with what had been tucked away in the SUV, it worked well for their half-fake FBI cover. Liz's jacket was a little larger than looked right, but her very real badge would make up for it as Tom followed her inside. "Special Agent Keen," she announced as she flashed the badge at the desk clerk. "We're here to take Donald Ressler into federal custody."
The woman who must have been pushing eighty didn't bother to look up from her place at the front desk. Instead she held out a hand, palm facing up, and flexed her fingers. "Paperwork?"
"They should have faxed that over," Liz answered without missing a beat.
The woman - Marjory Wilson if the name plate could be believed - finally looked up and over her half-moon glasses. Her steely gaze flickered from Liz and to Tom, then back to Liz. "Fax machine's been on the fritz since 2015."
Liz pushed a frustrated breath through her nose. "Email?"
"Probably." Marjory leaned back in her chair and shouted down the hall. "Frank, the federal agents need your email!"
"Quickly," Liz pressed.
"Then you came to the wrong sheriff's office, Agent…. I'm sorry, what was your name again?"
Liz offered a tight smile. "Keen, and I'd suggest you speed things up. You may not think it's your problem if I don't deliver the prisoner on time, but my boss' boss will make it your problem. My guess is that Frank back there wouldn't be thrilled if his name isn't noted as the arresting officer, but if you delay us any more I'll make sure that his name is buried so deep in the paperwork that no one will know he existed, much less had anything to do with the arrest."
Marjory stared at her for a long moment and Tom had to work to keep his even expression. He wasn't sure if they hadn't worked a great deal together undercover or if he just couldn't remember it, but she was good. Talented. Liz read the situation and applied the appropriate amount of pressure needed. It was something that couldn't fully be taught - and certainly not by the FBI - so a good deal of it must have been innate. If life had shook out a different way and her parents hadn't managed to get her to a solid home, she might have landed on Bud's radar around the same time that he had. Wouldn't that have been interesting?
Slowly, Marjory reached for something on the other side of the counter and produced a business card between two bony fingers. Liz took it and flashed a smile that might have passed as friendly if someone hadn't just heard the exchange. "Why don't you take me to the back and I'll start prepping the prisoner for transfer while my partner here contacts our team for the documents you need?" She handed the card back to Tom. "Let Susan know?"
Tom took the offered card and felt the corner of his lips twitch up in a lopsided smile. "Anything you need," he promised and he could see the flint of amusement in her eyes. She was enjoying this.
He dialed as Liz started to the back of the small office and let Scottie know what they needed and where they needed it sent. Even without her usual resources readily at her fingertips, her voice didn't waiver. Instead she told him that the documents would be in the inbox within ten minutes and Tom was left to wait in the closest thing to a lobby that this tiny station had. His dark blue gaze swept the photos on the wall, the dated decorations, and he made sure never to tilt his head so that the single camera could catch a clear glimpse of his face. Marjory seemingly had no interest in speaking to him as she sauntered back to her desk, sitting with a huff and going back to what he could only assume was some sort of record for the slowest-typed file in this history of US law enforcement.
The door chimed behind him and he turned, catching US Marshal uniforms out of the corner of his eye. Shit. This wouldn't be good.
"We're here to take custody of Agent Donald Ressler," one of the Marshals directed at Marjory who shot him an irked expression that he'd interrupted her theoretical work.
"FBI's already here to do that," she grumbled, motioning at Tom.
Tom turned just enough to offer a nod of acknowledgement and he saw the other man reach into his jacket. "I have paperwork here that says otherwise."
"So do they. Just came through."
Scottie might not be the most forthcoming human being on the face of the planet, but it was good to know his mother could come through in a pinch.
The Marshal - Reynolds, according to the name tag on his armored vest - turned his full attention on Tom and there was no ducking the steely gaze without drawing more attention. "Special Agent McDuran," he answered, reaching into his pocket to produce the fake badge that he'd snagged from amongst Chuck and Morgan's stash in the back of the SUV. Liz wouldn't be thrilled he was taking the whole impersonating a federal agent act even further than they already had, but better that than blowing their cover. He'd done worse. She had to know that. "My partner and I have instructions to transfer the prisoner."
"Where?"
"DC," he took the gamble, hoping it was right and years of training making it sound like he never questioned it.
Reynolds frowned deeply, looking back at his partner - a petite woman still standing at the door and looking as distrustful of the situation as he did - before shaking his head. "Ressler's an FBI agent. We're in charge of the transport."
"I don't know what to tell ya, man. You'll have to take it up with DC."
"Keen," the woman at the door said as if she had been trying to place him from the moment that he'd been forced to talk to them. Everything that followed was a blur of motion and instinct.
Reynolds drew his gun and Tom moved, open palm shoving the other man's forearm to throw the shot as it went off. He slammed his other hand up, heel into the man's nose and knocking him back. Tom pulled the sidearm from his now loosened fingers and dragged him in front to use him and his body armor to shield him from the other Marshal's shot at the door. Reynolds dropped to his knees, the bullet clearly having driven every ounce of breath out of him, and Tom leveled his gun at the man's head. "Drop yours," he demanded.
"And you put the phone down."
Tom didn't dare turn at his wife's voice behind him, but kept his own gaze fixed on the lady Marshal at the door who was slowly setting her weapon down. "Kick it over and cuff yourself to that chair in the corner."
"You're not gonna get far," Reynolds wheezed. "There's a manhunt after you."
"We're not the bad guys here," Tom promised, and even as the words tumbled from his lips he knew there was no reason for the man to believe him. He wasn't even sure why he wanted him to, but he plucked the cuffs from the Marshal's belt and nodded towards another chair separate from his partner. "Cuff yourself there."
"That escalated quickly," Liz murmured as she came up to stand at his left shoulder. "They recognize you?"
He snorted and risked a glance back to see Ressler checking the ammunition on a gun in his hands. "Ressler."
"Tom," the ginger agent greeted back. "We need to get out of here."
Everyone safely cuffed or otherwise dealt with - not a peep from Frank, however Liz had deemed to deal with the sheriff in the back - and cell phones removed so that they couldn't immediately call it in, the Keens and Ressler pushed through the doors and into the sun outside.
"Hey," Ressler called from his right. "Hey. Tom. Are you hit?"
Tom paused and followed the icy blue gaze of his wife's partner down to his side where blood was starting to soak through his shirt. There was something about acknowledging an injury that somehow helped to eat through the adrenaline rush and pinpoint the pain on the other side of it. He winced, a soft hiss escaping him, but he shook his head. "Let's get moving. Nothing we can do about it here."
"Tom…" Liz managed and her expression gutted him. Her gaze was fixed on the blood and the colour had washed out of her face.
"C'mon," Ressler pressed. "We have to go or we're all going to jail right now. I'll drive."
The offer seemed to be enough and Liz nodded, reaching into her pocket and handing over the keys to the SUV. She grabbed hold of Tom's hand, pulling him towards it and halfway shoving him into the backseat as her partner took the driver's. She followed in after him, but waited until they were on the road before she motioned. "Let me see."
"I'm fine."
"That's not what I asked, was it?"
"More of a demand, really," he tried for a little levity and instantly regretted it. He tugged his ripped shirt up to reveal a gash where the bullet had clipped him right along the ribs. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't going to kill him either. Liz sniffed hard from her place directly next to him on the bench seat and he looked up, finding tears standing in those beautiful blue eyes he loved so much. "Hey," he coaxed, reaching out to her and hoping that the blood on his fingers wouldn't offset his gentle tone. "I'm okay."
"Yeah," she answered shakily.
"We're okay."
"Yeah."
"We're going to be okay."
She pressed her lips together and folded into him, the stress of everything seeming to press down against her. Tom did his best to suppress the sharp intake of breath as her arm wrapped around the newly-dealt wound and pulled her into him instead, resting his cheek against the top of her head and loosing a long breath, feeling some of the stress release with it.
"I hate to interrupt the moment, but I have no idea where we're going. I hope you two lovebirds back there have a plan."
Tom shot Ressler a long-suffering look via the rear view mirror and saw the other man's lips quirk up in a smirk. "Get over to the 355 and go north. We need to find a place to ditch the vehicle and find a new one. We're heading up to a place Scottie and Howard had stashed away in the Wildcat Forest."
"Fantastic, because nothing ever goes wrong when you're in a cabin in the woods."
"I mean, Solomon doesn't work for the Cabal anymore, so he won't be shooting it up." The fact that the other man was dead would put a stop on that too.
He heard the other man snort a laugh from the driver's seat. "You remember that?"
"Guess I do."
"Well, we made it through that."
"We'll make it through this," Liz acknowledged, straightening a little, but not quite letting go of him. "We have to."
TBC
Notes: Okay, first and foremost, you're welcome for not carrying Tom getting clipped into the next chapter without answering how bad it was. The temptation was real, but I feel like we've all been through enough lol
Second... Did anybody see the sneak peak for tomorrow's episode that dropped today? The one with a certain flashback? Because I'm over the freakin' moon XD
Next Time: Reddington receives a long awaited but chilling answer, Katarina reveals some secrets, and the Keens take matters into their own hands.
