Alright, so I've stripped the guts of this episode to its bare bones, (though the chapter ended up being just as long, if not longer than the others) but that's because it is the start of my major time line edits so… this gon' be good! Hopefully. Maybe. I hope you like it. And as always... reviews fuel me!


Lizzie wasn't sure how she ever thought she could have normal. Her entire life was so far removed from normal that it abnormal was her normal. Suppose that's why she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop whenever she got a dose of it. Normal just doesn't belong in her life.

Evidence 1, she's currently walking into the Post Office with her husband handcuffed with a sack over his head. And no, there was no roleplaying and this wasn't their bedroom.

Evidence 2, she had turned him in. Her own husband. They had fought over the box. He had actually accused her of being the one to make the go box. The nerve of him to accuse her of that. Besides, her go box that she'd made for them was in a storage facility with both of their passports and enough money for both of them to live well for a few years. Honestly, why would she make a go box with passports just for him?

Evidence 3, What? Her life's not enough of a shit storm already for you? Ok fine, her father was the Concierge of Crime.

Now that she thought about it, that one should probably have been number 1.

/\/\/\/\

The door closed behind her as she walked into Cooper's office, smiling nervously as she sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

"When this all started, when Reddington turned himself in and asked for you, I was skeptical, suspicious. But I'll be honest." Cooper leaned forward at his desk, clasping his hands together as he leaned on his elbows. "You've done good work. And I've come to believe that you were just as surprised as the rest of us when he picked you. But now this. I need you to help me understand what's going on here."

"The gun, the money, and passports were in my house. A hatch in the floor."

"The gun was used in an unsolved homicide."

"Yes."

"You pulled a ballistics report."

Lizzie leaned forward, her leg beginning to bounce. "Tom is my husband. I brought him here, to you, for help, to find answers. I want to know who killed that FSB agent as much… no… more than you do. If we can solve that murder –"

"You're not gonna do anything. Until this matter is resolved, I'm putting you on leave."

"What? No. Tom is here." Lizzie gestured out the window of his office, at the war room below.

"Agent Keen. Go home."

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie and Red sat on opposite sides of a bench near the White House. As Red leisurely sat back, his arm slung over the back of the bench, Lizzie's eyes never stopped moving.

"People think it matters who occupies that house. It doesn't. Multinational corporations and criminals run the world." Red said wistfully, as if speaking of the good old days.

"I thought we were here to talk about Tom."

"You've obviously heard of corporate espionage – companies trying to beat other companies to be the first hand on the dollar. But what if it were taken a few steps further? In 1982, seven people in Chicago were killed by an over–the–counter drug laced with potassium cyanide. The company's market share went from 35 to 8. It was never determined how the drug was poisoned, but I will tell you someone was hired to do that. Remember those tire recalls, Chernobyl? Deliberate and malevolent actions taken by corporations to protect their vital interests. Nothing happens by chance. That's why I'm here, Lizzie. Because there's a woman Gina Zanetakos."

Lizzie was quiet for a moment, just to ensure his monologue was done before speaking. "I don't know who that is."

"Gina Zanetakos is a corporate terrorist And frankly, she's the best of the bunch. Lizzie, if you want to find the truth about your husband, then you need to find Gina."

"Why? Does she know Tom?"

"Because she's Tom's lover."

/\/\/\/\

"I fail to see how suspicions about her husband affect our arrangement, Harold." Red stated, looking out at the war room from Cooper's office.

"Agent Keen is on leave."

"Well, then, lives will be lost. What if I were to deliver to you a terrorist, not your run–of–the–mill ideologue answering to bearded men in caves, but someone entirely different less predictable and far more dangerous."

"I'd say delivering criminals to me is your job."

"My job is my business, Harold. Delivering criminals to you is a hobby, a diversion, one that may become tiresome, in which case we could always reminisce about that unfortunate incident in Kuwait."

Cooper huffed quietly under his breath. "Are you threatening me, Red?"

"I am. Hardly the time to let morals stand in the way of your upward mobility, Agent Cooper."

/\/\/\/\/\

"According to Reddington, her real name is Gina Zanetakos. Nearly a year ago, she reached out to him as Shubie Hartwell. She wanted Red to broker a deal to assassinate a supreme court judge who was the swing vote in a case that could have cost her corporate clients billions." Lizzie stated to the room at large as she gazed at the screens displaying everything they had on Gina Zanetakos.

"Custom documents indicate Shubie Hartwell entered the country yesterday. We've got a credit card in her name that was last used under an hour ago. Purchased two cocktails at the bar in the Key Hotel." Aram spoke without looking up from his computer screen.

"Call the hotel manager. Have him start pulling security tape. See who she was having drinks with. Agent Keen?" Cooper had noticed that she wasn't exactly paying attention as he gave his marching orders.

"Uh, I feel like I've seen her before."

/\/\/\/\

"She's not calling you back." Ressler grumped as Lizzie hung up her phone, having called Meera to ask her for news on Tom and gotten her voicemail. "This is the door? I'll take the key. Step back, please." Ressler ordered the poor hotel manager. "She shouldn't even have told you what she told you."

"And why is that?"

"Because you could be an accessory for all we know."

Oh c'mon, just one little punch? A love tap. Right across his little Captain America face.

/\/\/\/\

"Okay, we're working on a current address for Zanetakos." Aram tapped away at his keyboard as he spoke, forcing everyone to crowd around his work station if they wanted to hear him. "Her phone provided a treasure trove of messages. She was in frequent contact with a multinational company called the Hanar Group. But more worrisome is a message that came in today around three hours ago. A call that originated from Berlin."

Aram pressed a few buttons and the message began playing through out the war room.

"Change of plans. Had to use Cobalt 60. Still good to go."

"Cobalt 60? They're talking about a dirty bomb here." Ressler's face contorted in shock, probably mimicking the faces of everyone around him. No one had expected that this was how their day was going to go.

"But what's the target?" Lizzie asked the question on everyone's mind.

Red and Lizzie strolled around one of the many monuments in D.C. All of these clandestine meetings were really starting to get to her.

"We believe Zanetakos is planning to detonate a dirty bomb somewhere in the central time zone of the United States."

"Why would she want to do that, Lizzie?"

"Somebody hired this woman. She killed a man today, Nadeem Idris. He was an attaché at the Turkish Embassy. Looks like they were having an affair. We suspect it was a means to an end."

"Have you found the connection to your husband?"

"We have looked through all of Zanetakos' phone messages, all her records. There wasn't a single message from Tom." Lizzie combed her hair back with her fingers, blowing out a long suffering sigh.

"Perhaps they exchanged letters."

"There's nothing between them. My husband is innocent. Why are you doing this? If there's something I should know, just tell me! Why all this cloak and dagger?"

/\/\/\/\

Tom looked up as Meera entered the room. "Did you talk to Burris?"

"Please take a seat." Meera walked over and took a seat herself.

Tom chuckled as he obeyed and sat down. "Okay. He backed me up, though, right?" Tom looked down at the photo that Meera had just slid across the table. "Okay, who is this?"

"You don't know?"

"No."

"That's Walter Burris, the headmaster at the Rothwell School."

Tom stood up abruptly from his chair, combing his fingers through his hair anxiously. "W- w- what is this, some kind of trick? Did this guy say he met with me? Because I didn't meet with him. And if he says that he met with me, then he's lying. He is lying to you. Because I've never seen this guy before in my life, not once."

"He's being set up." Lizzie murmured from where she stood in the observation room.

"Look, uh, I met with a man who claimed to be Walter Burris. For 45 minutes, he interviewed me. Look, is Lizzie back there?" Tom pointed to the one-way mirror.

"I need you to stay seated." Meera pointed to the chair that Tom had nearly tipped over as he stood.

"Look, I didn't do anything, okay? You have to believe me. All I did was walk out of a hotel, and someone took a picture, okay? Someone is doing this to me!"

"The picture." Lizzie murmured before running out of the observation room.

She ran to the evidence board and took down the photo of Tom outside Angel Station. Looking to the corner of the photo, Lizzie notices Gina Zanetakos wearing a brown wig as she headed towards the hotel. That's where Lizzie had seen her before. This photo.

/\/\/\/\

Ressler and Liz entered the apparent apartment of Gina Zanetakos with an FBI squad, knocking down the door and yelling "FBI!" No really, they were really great at surprise parties.

A cursory walk through of the empty found them several high powered weapons and many burner phones. Lizzie sat down in a chair in the corner to go through some of the photos they'd found when she noticed a vent cover had been removed. Leaning down, Lizzie opened the vent and finds a wooden go box with a symbol just like Tom's. Opening it up, she found the same staples for a go box as was in Tom's – a pistol, money, and passports. Also included in her go box were photos of apparent targets – one of whom was Victor Fokin.

"Ressler. Victor Fokin, the FSB agent. She was watching him. So she could kill him, not Tom. She's an assassin." Lizzie showed Ressler the photo.

Before Ressler could reply, another agent helping with the search walked over. "Guys, you might want to check this out. Found this by her bed." When Lizzie looked over, he was showing them a picture of Tom.

After everything that had happened in the last couple of months, she still hoped her dad was wrong. Yet as she looked at the photo, Lizzie felt as if the room had suddenly become a vacuum.

"Give us a minute." Ressler murmured to the agent before taking the photo out of Lizzie's hands. When had it gotten there? "This is evidence." He stated, putting it to the side. "Listen, Keen, whatever you think this may mean, I admire what you're doing, standing up for your husband, but I think we both know it's time for you to protect yourself."

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie approached Red and sat next to him on the steps of a canopy in another nameless D.C. park. They sat there silently for a few minutes, people watching. Red was waiting patiently for her to speak as Lizzie failed at keeping the tears at bay.

"I didn't know where else to go. We found a picture of Tom in her house. He said he doesn't know her, but clearly he does. So much is happening, and I just don't know how to process it all." Lizzie angrily wiped a few tears from her cheeks. "I mean, a part of me thinks that you're manipulating this whole thing and you're trying to ruin my life. But I know you wouldn't do that, you're a lot of things, but I know you would never do that to me. But if I'm wrong about Tom – If he isn't who – I don't think I can handle any of it without him. I feel like I'm drowning, like I don't know what's real or who I can trust.

"You can trust me." Red looked over at her, his eyes solemn, and his mouth turned down in a frown. He hated seeing her like this. Hated that it was due, in large part to him. But she needed to find the truth. He needed to make her find the truth.

"I needed you to be wrong about him." She said in barely suppressed anguish.

Red grabbed her hand tightly in his and placed his head atop hers when she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder.

/\/\/\/\/\

"No. Hakim, that is not the problem. Listen to me. Shipping is my business. Once I receive payment, the merchandise ships. That's the deal. According to my man in Houston, the payment's not there. It's been diverted to New Orleans, which is entirely unacceptable. Well, I don't care if the wedding is Saturday. All I care about is my payment. Hakim, this conversation is over." Red hung up the phone and tossed it to Dembe. "Hello, Lizzie. What can I do for you?" Lizzie silently handed him a picture of the bomb maker and he immediately let out a boisterous laugh. "Maxwell Ruddiger. Tremendous bomb maker. Haphazard as hell, terrible drinker, but he gets the job done."

"Zanetakos made a wire payment to him a few weeks ago."

Red nodded in understanding. "So he's the link. Ruddiger can get you to Zanetakos, and she'll get you to Tom."

"Can you help me find him?"

/\/\/\/\

"It's a sedan. The car is the bomb. Contamination radius of over five miles." Ruddiger slurred as he sat at his work bench in Germany. Red had been plying him with alcohol for the past hour and was finally getting somewhere.

"When will it detonate?"

Ruddiger glanced up at the clock and chuckled. "Nineteen hours. Don't know where."

"Then we'll have to ask Gina. Call her. I just need to know where she is." Red nodded to Dembe and he silently took out a small envelope with a burner phone, handing it to Ruddiger. "This will never come back on you." Red murmured.

/\/\/\/\/\

"That woman was the link! She was the only proof that my husband is innocent! And now she's what? Dying? Lying unconscious in some hospital?" Lizzie shouted as she paced Cooper office.

"She's in surgery." Ressler argued, seemingly having had enough of Lizzie's dramatics.

"Have we forgotten that there's a bomb out there?"

"I haven't forgotten anything. I've been here for seven years. You've been here for seven weeks." Ressler hissed.

"We have less than four hours." Lizzie stared at Ressler in a clear challenge. Or maybe she was just imagining a giant red bullseye on his right cheek. She had a mean right hook. Her brother could attest to that.

"You think we don't know that?"

"What, is Zanetakos gonna come out of surgery by then? Because that was the only lead we have!"

"I told you to calm down." Cooper had had enough of both of their dramatics.

Looking over at her boss, Lizzie sighed and plopped into a chair. "The bomb – What do you know?"

"We know what you know." Ressler grumped. "It's built into a car, German–made. It's dirty."

"Well, do you know why Zanetakos killed Nadeem Idris in that hotel or how the Hanar Group is connected, – who their enemies are?"

"The investors." Cooper replied

"What do you mean, the investors?"

"The company stock is at an all–time low. They're in trouble, dragged down by a 48% drop in the market share of their largest division."

"What division?" Lizzie questioned, looking between Cooper and Ressler.

"Shipping. They operate a port in New Orleans."

/\/\/\/\

"New Orleans – What do you know about it?" Lizzie had speed dialed her dad's burner phone as soon as she left Cooper's office.

She received a laugh in reply. "Quite a lot. What do you have in mind?"

"You were on the phone. That guy – Someone was getting married. You were talking. Something about New Orleans and the ports." Lizzie tried to lead him towards what she wanted as she walked down the hallways of the Post Office.

"Yes."

"You told the man on the phone your payment was diverted. Why?"

"It happens every once in a while, but this was…unprecedented. An associate of mine in New Orleans was advising illicit traffic in the Gulf to be rerouted to New Orleans."

"The Hanar Group hired Zanetakos."

"They're a majority owner of a port in New Orleans." Red replied, scratching his head.

"Where was your payment diverted from?"

"Houston."

"That's the target. New Orleans and Houston are the two biggest ports in the Gulf. If Houston were to close because of radioactive contamination, all traffic would have to be diverted to New Orleans. Hanar's profits would soar. They'd be the only game in the Gulf." Lizzie quickly hung up on him and turned back around in search of Cooper and Ressler.

"That's my girl." Red murmured as he tossed the phone to Dembe.

/\/\/\/\

Lizzie looked around the port in desperation as one of the bomb squad guys walked up to them.

"We've been through five sections and found nothing. This port is 25 miles long. It will take us weeks to inspect it all."

"We've got less than an hour." Ressler stated as if everyone weren't already checking their watches every five seconds.

"We're missing something." Lizzie combed her fingers through her hair, tugging gently. "The Hanar Group. They hire Zanetakos. She contracted Ruddiger to build a bomb. But something's missing."

"Nadeem Idris." Ressler murmured, attempting to help her connect the dots.

"What ships have been in or out of here in the last week from Turkey?" Lizzie directed her question at the harbor master.

"None."

"Why would Zanetakos need a low–level Turkish diplomat to get a car bomb into the country?" Ressler questioned Lizzie.

Lizzie bit her lip in thought for a moment. "Because it's illegal to search diplomatic cargo. With his help, Zanetakos was able to get the car in without inspection." Lizzie pointed at the harbor master to gain his attention again. "Check the manifests for all incoming ships for any items signed by Nadeem Idris."

/\/\/\/\

They all stood around a brand new Mercedes that just happened to be a dirty bomb set to blow in less than 15 minutes.

"It's re–fabricated. I've never seen anything like it. The bomb's not just inside the car. Itis the car." The bomb tech attempted to explain.

"Well, we've got minutes here." Captain America sometimes liked to moonlight as Captain Obvious.

"What we've got is a big-ass problem." Retorted the Techie before walking over to his colleagues.

/\/\/\/\

Everyone watched as the car was lowered to the ground, checking their watches.

"This isn't gonna work." Ressler murmured.

"It'll work." Lizzie tried to placate him though she was just as anxious as him.

"It's not gonna work. We got less than a minute. We're running out of time."

Lizzie watched, her mouth agape as Ressler ran to the car and promptly turned it on, speeding it down the port. She held her breath as he spun the wheel to send it careening into the ocean before jumping out just in time. The world seemed to slow as everyone counted down in their heads until… a dull boom and a large splash signaled the bomb detonation.

Okay, Lizzie had to admit. That was really freaking cool. Ressler may have just moved up a few notches in her cool book.

/\/\/\/\

"Because there was no airborne exposure, the NRC is saying that contamination was contained, which is the only reason why the U.S. attorney is considering a plea agreement in exchange for your cooperation – Your full cooperation. Is that clear?" Ressler questioned Gina. He, Meera, and Lizzie were all crowded into her hospital room.

"Yes."

"Your prints are on a nine–millimeter used to assassinate Victor Fokin in Boston last June. Did you kill him?" Meera asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Someone didn't want him to talk."

"Go on." Ressler coaxed when it seemed as though she didn't wish to continue.

"He was a Russian agent defecting to the U.S. Somebody didn't want him spilling secrets."

"What secrets?" Ressler pressed.

"Fokin had information about the route Chechen guerrillas were using to move their supplies to their soldiers on the Russian border. The guy who hired me was making millions providing those supplies. His name is Raymond Reddington."

Lizzie froze for a moment. That couldn't be true. If it was, her father was going to have a fat lip.

"Do you know Tom Keen? We found this picture of him in your apartment."

"Never seen him before."

/\/\/\/\/\

When Lizzie saw Tom walking through the war room, she quickly ran up to him, hugging him around his neck.

Just as they're about to leave, Tom does a double take as he gazes at one of the evidence boards.

"Tom?" Lizzie questioned as he walked over to it.

"That's him who I met with." Tom pointed to the photo of Newton "Grey" Philips, Red's man. "That's the guy who interviewed me for the job."

/\/\/\/\

"Please do come in." Red muttered as Lizzie barged into his safe house.

"You and I – We're done." Lizzie spat out.

"I heard about Tom." Red murmured, his face transformed by fatigue into that of a much older man.

"Yeah. Zanetakos confessed."

Red cocked his head slightly. "Or took the fall."

"The passports? Forged. The money in the box? Traced to an offshore account of yours."

"I can only lead you to the truth. I can't make you believe it."

"The truth is that you're a sick, twisted man. This, your need to weasel your way in, take over my entire life, needs to end– You put Tom's picture in Zanetakos' apartment.

"No." Red stated firmly.

"You hired her to kill Victor Fokin. You set my husband up by having your errand boy lure him to Boston."

"Is that what Tom said?"

"I don't understand why you would do this, any of it! Go to hell."

Lizzie stormed out of the room and out of the house. She didn't see as Red laid his head against the back of the chair, his face contorted in anguish as he scratched at the top of his head, the tic under his left eye going mad.

Red didn't see as Dembe followed Lizzie out of the house.

/\/\/\/\

"Elizabeth, wait."

Lizzie ignored him as she stomped to her car, fumbling with the keys. Dropping them, she stood only to have her arm grabbed gently by Dembe to turn her around.

"Elizabeth, listen to me. Please."

"There's nothing you can say, Dembe! He's gone too far this time!" Lizzie's rage made her words whip between them.

"He is your father, Elizabeth. If you trust nothing else about him, trust that. He is trying to show you what you need to see in the only way he knows how."

Lizzie stared up at Dembe for several moments, her face relaxing from fury to confusion as she saw the earnest truth in his eyes.

/\/\/\/\

"I need to understand."

Red startled at the sound of her voice, whipping around from where he had been leaning against the window pane, planning to drown himself in the hefty amount of whiskey he'd just poured.

"Lizzie—"

"I need to understand why you manufactured this whole… circus. Please Dad. I know you're trying to tell me something, I get that. But I need you to spell it out for me." Lizzie walked over to him and took his hand, leading him to the couch. Lizzie sat down, bringing one of her knees up to face him as he sat down next to her with a sigh.

"Lizzie, Sweetheart… this is…you're not going to like it."

"I'm fairly sure whatever you're going to say will be a lot better than the fact that you manufactured this whole thing to try and plant a seed of doubt in my head about my husband. Which, by the way, is probably the most insane, off the wall thing you've ever done."

"Well, there was that time—"

"Shut up, Dembe." Lizzie and Red both spoke at the same time, causing Dembe laugh as he left the room to give them some privacy.

Red sat there a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I did not manufacture all of it. I promise, Tom and Gina did have a relationship. I did not plant that photo in her home."

Lizzie swallowed, nodding her head for him to continue.

"Yes, the money was traceable to me, the passports were forged by one of my people, and that was my man, Grey at the hotel meeting with Tom."

"You're really not helping your own case, Dad."

"I hired him, Lizzie." Red whispered in a rush. "I had sent Grey there to buy him off, get him to leave."

"What?"

"Tom…though I highly doubt that is his real name, was hired to be one of your watchers back when you were in college."

Lizzie stood up and began pacing the room, her arms crossed over her chest as if to shield her.

"Lizzie, you knew I had people watching you. But something happened, Sweetheart. He betrayed us. He was never supposed to make contact."

Lizzie looked over at him, trying to gauge the truth of his words.

"I would never let one of my men do that – get close to you in such a way. I can only assume that he got a better offer from someone else."

"And you just… what? Allowed me to fall in love with him? To marry him?" Lizzie screeched, on the verge of hysteria as tears streamed down her face.

"I had no choice, Lizzie! You didn't exactly take too kindly to my taking measures the last time your relationship went south, and that boy beat the shit out of you!" Red's voice raised as he stood up from the couch. "I've been trying to find out who he works for with no luck. Three years, Lizzie, and not even a whisper. That just doesn't happen. Whoever it is, Lizzie, they're extremely dangerous."

"So what? You just let me continue on with my normal pretenses while some assassin spy slept next to me?" Lizzie couldn't hide the revulsion on her face and quickly spun around, turning her back to him.

"It's why I'm here now, Lizzie." Red reached out his arms in supplication though she couldn't see it. "It's what I've been trying to get you to understand for the last couple of months! Something is happening, Lizzie. Something huge. I'm sorry. I have done the best I could with this impossible situation. Sweetheart, please look at me."

God, he sounded so damn sad. Lizzie turned slowly, gnawing on her bottom lip as she did so. Dammit, he looked just as sad as he sounded.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. Truly I am. I did what I thought was best and I realize that it only made it worse. I'm so sorry."

Lizzie stared at him for a few moment and when he took a hesitant step towards her, she held up one hand as the other crossed over her chest. "I just... give me a minute to be really pissed at you." Lizzie folded both arms over her chest once more and stood there, her hip cocked to one side. "Jesus Christ, Dad. You... and then he..." Lizzie ran her fingers through her hair. "Never again, you hear me?" Lizzie pointed at him, but quickly looked away the sight of her anxious father, shifting from foot to foot and biting his bottom lip - the family tell which he had supposedly gotten rid of years ago. She swallowed the guilt at the knowledge that she was the one to bring it back, because dammit, she wanted to be angry for a little while.

"Never again. I've come to terms with the fact that I always have watchers, I even might admit that they make me feel a little tiny bit safer. But if one of them betrays us ever again, you tell me. You intervene. Got it?"

They both stood still as they evaluated the situation until finally, Red nodded his head once in acquiescence. Lizzie bit her lip as her eyes skated over his face before nodding her head shakily.

He gave her a bright smile before taking two giant steps and wrapping her up in a hug. Unfolding her arms, Lizzie returned the hug with just as much force.

"I'm so sorry, Lizzie, so sorry."

"I know, Dad." She murmured into his shoulder.

After some time, they finally broke apart and Lizzie wiped her cheeks, careful to get under her eyes as she was sure that by now she had some serious raccoon eyes.

"So what do I do?"

Red sighed as he looked down at her, a small frown on his face. "We need to find out who he works for. You need to play house, Lizzie."