Chapter Fourteen: Stubborn

Gina Zanetakos was not a sentimental woman. She had never been fool enough to think that St Regis provided her with the home that she had never had or a family that would support her against all odds. Loyalties changed at a whim. Jacob leaving had been a sharp reminder of that, and her own last second decision to put McCready in the ground to save her traitorous former lover had only proven it all the more. A power struggle had become inevitable within the organization, especially when things hadn't run as smoothly as she would have liked. As any of them would have liked. She had dug in though. She was a talented operative and a stubborn woman. She had had every intention of coming out on top.

That was over now. They were going to take that away from her. Or take her away from it, rather. She'd be damned if she let them have St Regis after all of this, even if it killed her.

Masterson tightened his hold on her as he guided her through the halls. She had felt the students' quick glances as they passed through the campus. She had been their teacher, and for many of them, she'd been to them what the Major had been to her. They hadn't known McCready, only Gina, and she'd brought them out of whatever life had tried to drown them in and given them a chance. Despite what Jacob said, she'd given them more of a chance than they ever would have had without her.

"This could have been easier," Masterson murmured in her ear. "If you'd given everything over they'd have let you live."

"Sure," Gina snorted as they paused and he knocked against the thick, wooden door leading to what had been McCready's office before it had been hers. She risked a glance back out of the corner of her eye. "I see you're still on the outside."

"Closer in than you."

"For now."

The door opened and he all but shoved her inside. She didn't let herself stumble though, and she found Geffroy and Tallert waiting. Franks was nowhere to be seen, which must have meant that Jacob's people had taken him. Well, at least there was that.

"Good to see you, Gina," Tallert said.

"Is it really?" She almost believed his lie. If Geffroy had been fond of Jacob, Tallert had liked Gina. She had been his top student and, as far as she was aware, she still held the highest score he'd given out. That didn't mean he wouldn't break her neck if it came down to it.

"Don't be bitter. You brought this on yourself," Geffroy grumbled and moved across the office to a table across the room that Gina knew well enough. He slid a panel out from the middle and pulled a keyboard from it, a loud click signalling the rest of the computer coming out of hiding as the top of the table popped open and Geffroy pulled the monitor up. He motioned to it.

"What, you don't want to wait for Franks?" she asked cheekily.

Masterson gave her another rough shove in the direction of the formerly-hidden computer system. Gina pushed a long breath out through her nose as she approached it, fingers nimble across the key as she dialed in a code. She could feel three sets of eyes latched onto her from behind, greedily waiting for the information that they thought would give them access to all that McCready had built. She reached over, the request for the thumbprint flickering across the screen, and she pressed her thumb against it.

It read the grooves on her skin and beeped once, twice, and then flashed green before cycling back around.

"What the hell is that?" Masterson growled.

Gina couldn't resist the small smirk that tilted her lips even as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her backwards.

Tallert approached, his cool gaze taking it in. "You never had access to it," he breathed. "That's why…"

"McCready always wanted Jacob and me to take over together," Gina answered with a shrug.

Anger flashed briefly through Geffroy's eyes. "And he never took Phelps from the system."

Gina's lips quirked just a little more. She'd played them and they knew it. "He always had a soft spot for him." Her dark eyes fell on each man and she squared her shoulders as the computer timed out, relocking behind her. "Looks like you gave up half your chance to get to what you need."

He didn't like the situation. Halcyon hadn't fought him on most of the arrests made, but Ressler had known that luck wouldn't hold. The moment Victor Franks was identified as one of their captures from the raid Scottie Hargrave had stepped in and pushed for Franks to be held at the Halcyon site.

Ressler had finally convinced her that the offices within DC was the only consensus he would make, and only if his people led the interrogation. She hadn't been thrilled at the idea, but Liz's reminder of the deal Tom had made with the Task Force held more weight with Scottie than Ressler's. Now, just a few hours later, he found himself staring through a one-way window at a man that hadn't budged for him and was even showing the same indifference to Samar.

"You're not going to break him."

Ressler turned, the familiar voice from behind startling him. Tom Keen looked exhausted where he stood, his gaze focused on the man beyond the glass that he'd likely learned a thing or two from over the years. Ressler took the moment of distraction to glance him up and down, from the bruises lining his face to the splint on his right wrist. His dominant fingers on the same hand were bound together. He stood stiffly, like he was still in a lot of pain, but pushing past it.

"Liz know you're up?" Ressler asked at last.

"Yeah."

"How'd you swing that?"

"A little honesty goes a long way." Ressler snorted a laugh and Tom offered a lopsided smile. "We're on the same page. Just need to get everyone else there."

That sounded like another curve ball was coming their way. Great.

Ressler motioned to the stoic man Samar was after. "What do you know about him?"

"Victor Franks was over interrogation training while I was at St Regis. He went into semi retirement a few years ago, but he always wanted a chance at running the organization." Tom's lips rugged down. "He didn't just teach interrogation, but how to stand up under it."

"Like you did with Meera," Ressler said softly, the memory tugging hard at him.

Tom made a small sound of acknowledgement. "Meera and others over the years. Meera was good - better than I expected going in - but she was a walk in the park next to some of the interrogations I've been put through over the years. Franks taught us how to keep it together long enough to convince the interrogator we were telling the truth or would die before giving anything up."

Looking at the effects of his latest round with the man, Ressler wasn't sure he wanted to know what kind of training he'd gone under as he learned from Franks. The agent squared his shoulders and turned to look through the window. "I can't condone Samar beating the hell out of him for answers."

A rough chuckle left the dark haired man. "I'm sure she's got plenty of training beyond what the FBI is comfortable with, but she's got the same problem as we'd have if I sent Solomon in there or if I went in myself: it's the same type of training Franks taught. He'd die before cracking. We need a different approach."

"And what is that?" Ressler asked carefully.

The door behind them opened and Katarina Rostova stride in like she owned the place. Ressler stared as she offered him a wink and he turned back to Liz's husband. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She has a completely different training background than any of us. It's a different angle and the best chance we've got. If we're going to get inside St Regis, we need Franks' help to do that."

Ressler pulled in a steadying breath. If he gave her the room, he was signing off on whatever Rostova chose to do with Franks, and he still wasn't sold on if they could trust her or not.

"You could always let my daughter take a crack at him. I hear she's proven herself to be very talented at getting information when she wants it," Katarina said, a pointed look in her son-in-law's direction.

Tom gave a weak chuckle at that, running his hand along the back of his neck in a nervous motion Ressler had seen on rare occasion. "Yeah, well, Franks won't have the same motivations I did." He turned back to Ressler. "He's in Halcyon custody. If something goes sideways we'll handle it."

There was a long moment of silence between them before Ressler finally gave, offering the barest of nods. Katarina didn't wait for anything more as she ducked into the room and Ressler turned back to Tom. "How does she knows about the boat?"

Tom groaned, shaking his head. Ressler couldn't say he envied the man his luck in in-laws.

She stepped into the room, the Mossad agent instantly looking over at her, but it wasn't a set of dark eyes that hers met. Her own blue locked gazes with cool hazel of the man cuffed to the table. There was something under the mask, a small flicker of recognition, and Katarina felt the barest of smiles threaten. Masha and her husband had made the right call bringing her in.

Navabi saw the glimmer of change too and she stood. Katarina felt her gaze linger as she passed by wordlessly, the warning clear. She'd play along, but the moment one of her people told her Katarina didn't belong in there she'd be back. It had been a long time since the former KGB agent had gone toe to toe with a Mossad agent. That could be fun, but for now she had a job to do.

The amusement faded and Katarina took the seat across from Franks. "Do you know who I am?"

"A legend in your own right," Franks answered evenly.

He hadn't been expecting her. Good.

Franks sat back as best he could in his seat, his posture relaxing even if Katarina knew that was the furthest he could be from the truth. "It makes more sense now."

"What's that?"

"Phelps. The girl's not just some FBI bitch. She's Katarina Rostova's daughter."

It was meant to rile her, but instead Katarina simply stood and circled around behind him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder before drifting to the back of his neck. He didn't tense, but she didn't expect him to, even as she leaned down directly in his ear. "You're alone here, Vic. They're not coming for you because my daughter and her husband have done the dirty work for them. They have Zanetakos and they have St Regis. You are alone, unless you make yourself useful."

She felt the barest change in the muscles under her hand. "And exactly how would you suggest I do that?"

"You know your mother won't take no for an answer on this, don't you?"

Tom loosed a breath, his gaze directed at nothing in particular as he stood at the window in his office. "Yeah," he answered softly as Howard came to stand next to him. "Liz won't back down from it either." He glanced at the man to his left. "You're not here to tell me you want to try your hand in the field are you, because I seem to remember having to drag you out of the line of fire a few years ago."

Howard chuckled and Tom felt a real albeit tired smile tug into place.

"No, though you'd put an old man's mind at ease by holding back yourself."

That pulled Tom's attention over and he blinked in surprise. "You know I can't do that."

"I know," Howard said softly, "but you and I know the odds, Tom. Going in there injured you're up against even tougher ones."

"I've been through worse."

"That doesn't mean you're fit to take on an organization designed to train killers."

"That's exactly why they need me. If I sat it out, maybe Scottie would, but Liz would still be there. This is my fight."

Howard's gaze flickered up and down and lingered on Tom's battered right hand. "Can you even fire a gun right now?

Tom smirked and reached over, cuffing his father on the shoulder playfully. "You think a trained killer needs his dominant hand to shoot with?"

That didn't pull a smile from his father. If anything, Howard grew a little more serious. "You're better than them, son. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

The younger man's expression softened at that. "Because I had the chance to be. That's what I want to give the kids in the program now. That's why this couldn't wait. That's why it still can't."

"And it has nothing to do with saving Gina Zanetakos?"

"She gave herself up for me. If I don't, exactly how am I better than anyone else put through St Regis?"

"He's stubborn like that."

Both men turned to see Liz leaning against the doorframe and she offered a strained smile. "Someone wanted to say goodbye before heading out."

Agnes peeked around her mother's leg and Tom felt the same warmth that always managed to work its way in when his daughter was nearby take hold. He took a careful knee. "Hey, kiddo. Can I get a hug before you leave with Grandpa?"

The little girl took the invitation and launched herself across the room with enough force to nearly knock Tom off his balance. He managed to stay upright, though, and wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. He felt that thick, dark hair tickle his nose and she tightened her hold. "I don't want you and Mama to go," she said, her voice hitching halfway through.

"We'll be back before you know it," Tom promised. "You'll take care of your grandpa, right?"

"And Uncle 'Ram and Mont."

Tom snorted a laugh. "Yep. You have to make sure all of them are safe. You got this, right?"

"Right," she answered with a firm nod and Tom leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, and I'll see you as soon as this is done," he promised.

She watched him, those clever dark eyes fixed on him for a long moment before she turned abruptly and took Howard's hand with her own smaller one, like she was the one leading him to safety. Tom forced the raging emotions behind the mask of calm as his father offered him a small smile. "Be careful, son," he offered before the little girl pulled him out of the room, leaving Tom and Liz alone for the brief moment they had.

He stood, the motion slower than he would liked, but Liz didn't rush to help. She watched, taking it in, and seemed satisfied with his balance. She didn't want him going any more than Howard, but they'd had that conversation, and maybe, just maybe, he'd convinced those that needed to be convinced that he wasn't backing down from this.

"Hey," she murmured, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Hey."

Liz reached up, her touch light against his scruffy cheek and he leaned into it. "My mother cracked Franks."

Tom made a small sound of acknowledgement and he reached to take her hand, pressing a quick kiss to it. "We knew she was the only one who stood a chance. Everybody ready?"

"As we can be." She gave him a small, strained smile and pulled him down to kiss him. Tom melted into it, wishing they could stay like that.

"Thank you," she murmured as they finally broke.

"For what?"

"Not fighting me on going."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, his tone teasing. "Like you tried to do with me?" Her glare lacked its usual edge and he kissed her again. "Fighting you when you've made up your mind is dangerous. One suicide mission at a time, huh?"

That got him a light smack to the arm. "I'm trying here."

"I know." He brushed his thumb against her cheekbone. "We'll take them out together."

The woman he loved nodded and leaned into a careful hug. Tom wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. It wasn't just his past they were fighting. They were fighting for their future, and that took both of them. Together they had to win.

TBC

Notes: Of course Tom's not sitting this out. Why would he, ya know, go home and rest or anything? :P

The next couple chapters are going to be a wild ride before the finish. Chapter after next actually got a lot more violent than I anticipated... oops O.o

If you'd like some fluff, though, I updated Truth in the Lies yesterday with a prompt that was sent in: Liz's pregnancy cravings. Hint: Agnes' taste in food is more aligned with her daddy's than her mom's.

Next Time: The two teams work to find a way into St Regis' compound only to find it's no safer outside than it is inside.