Hey guys, sorry for the psych out the other day. I know it looked like I posted a new chapter and some of you may have received a notification that I had when, in reality, I didn't. I was going through a chapter, trying to refresh my memory on a small detail when I noticed that I had embarrassingly left one of my outlining/ brainstorming notes in the chapter. So I had to edit the chapter and re-upload it. Sorry about that.


Red and Lizzie sat back-to-back in the center of the room, their heads resting against each other as Dembe lay on his back beside them. They were all dressed in their crappiest clothes – Red in an old Navy t-shirt and worn jeans, Lizzie in a ratty pair of sweatpants and Dembe wore his usual jeans and t-shirt…just a few years old. All of their clothes had various levels of paint splatter.

"This looks wonderful, Lizzie." Red crossed his outstretched legs at the ankle as he gazed around at the light blue walls with white trim. "I love the color scheme. Very soothing."

Lizzie smiled as Dembe hummed in agreement.

"I'm a pretty big fan myself." Lizzie stated, unable to wipe the grin off her face as she looked around the room. "Thank you guys, I really appreciate this."

"Psh, Lizzie! I feel as though I'm the one who should be thanking you. I never thought I'd be…"

"Hey!" Lizzie shouted teasingly, trying to keep the good mood alive. "No maudlin today, okay? We just finished painting your grandson's room. This is a happy time, got it?"

Red chuckled and Lizzie could feel him nodding his head. "Got it, Sweetheart." He murmured.

"Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-" Lizzie giggled as her dad reached back and tickled her side. "Cut it out!" She laughed, slapping his hand away, both Red and Dembe laughing at their antics. "Again," she chuckled "as I was saying – Dembe, thank you, especially, for the fantastic artwork!" Lizzie stated grandly, clapping her brother on the shoulder as she gazed at the adorable mural of cartoon whales on the wall right above where the crib was going.

She still remembered the look on her dad's face when she'd decided on a nautical theme. It was one part sad, two parts hopeful.

"You are welcome, Elizabeth." Her brother stated.

Lizzie smiled down at him, squeezing his shoulder.

"Now! Onto a new subject, my dear." Red said boisterously. "What is going on between you and our dear Donald?"

Lizzie froze, looking over at her brother in panic. His only response was to chuckle at her situation. The jerk. She should have stabbed him with that colored pencil when she'd had the chance all those years ago.

"Uh, nothing. Where in the world did you get that idea from?" She stumbled over her words.

"Oh I don't know. Could it possibly be because the man so readily forgave the fact that you kept our relationship a secret? Or how about the way he's had no control over his facial expressions the last couple weeks when you walk into the room?" Red paused and Lizzie couldn't help the stupid grin she knew was on her face. "Or it may be the picture that Baz sent me yesterday of the two of you kissing on your stoop. Really Lizzie? In public?"

"What?!" Lizzie screeched. "Baz is security, they're not supposed to spy on me! You promised!" Lizzie shouted angrily, leaning forward and turning on her bum to face her dad, causing him to almost fall on his back as his support was suddenly removed. Grunting as he caught himself, Red turned to face her.

"He wasn't spying. More like… teasing me." He muttered, his cheeks reddening. "The picture may have come with a note saying something to the effect of 'looks like there will be baby banana peels in your future.' Honestly Lizzie, did I really have to find out about this in such a manner? I'm traumatized. I had to schedule an appointment with my psychiatrist friend out in California." Red's voice was verging on a distinct whine.

Lizzie shoved her dad's shoulder, shaking her head as a small smile crossed her face at her dad's silliness. "I'm sorry but it's still…new."

"How new?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Just a couple weeks, Dad."

"Good."

Lizzie shook her head before looking over to her brother. "Hey, wanna help me up? I've got gelato in the freezer with your name on it."

Dembe shot up onto his feet, causing Lizzie and Red to laugh. "I would do it anyway, Elizabeth. But since there is ice cream…." Dembe trailed off with a smirk, outstretching his hands for her.

Placing her hands in his and planting her feet, allowing him to pull her up, Lizzie grinned. "I'm envious of that girlish figure you keep even with all those sweets."

Dembe's eyes narrowed playfully just before he smacked her upside the head.

"Ow! Hey! Dad, he hit me!" Lizzie whined despite the small grin on her face, looking to her father for comfort as she rubbed her head.

Red shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Children. Knock it off." He demanded, mockingly stern before they all left the room in a fit of giggles.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Red sat at a small metal table on the rooftop balcony of one of the best restaurants in Chicago. He gazed out at the city below before turning back to his associate. "The Indonesian government has finally agreed to turn over all day-to-day operations at the port to a private company. I'd like that company to be operated by the syndicate."

Niko's eyes widened slightly, incredulous. "That's unlikely. Our logistics company in the region is too small."

Red nodded, taking a slow drag from his cigar before slowly blowing the smoke back out. "I agree. So I've taken steps to change that. I'm tripling our investment."

"And what if we don't get the contract?" Niko questioned, an arm outstretched in supplication. "You're fighting a war with Berlin that drags all of us into the trenches with you. This is a time for caution, not risk."

Red smiled passively. "The fruit is ripe. Niko, I've made my decision." He stated firmly before sweeping his hand out to point behind his associate. "The men behind you will take you to your car."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie pushed her desert plate away, smiling over at her dad. He'd taken her out to dinner after her latest scan, in celebration.

"Thanks Dad, this was amazing."

Red smiled softly. "We need to do this more often. I'm afraid too much of our time together is becoming about the list. I miss you, Sweetheart."

"I miss you too." She said simply, returning his smile. "Where's Dembe? He left the room after the scan pretty fast."

Red's smile turned tight. "He had some business to take care of, I'm afraid." Just as he finished speaking, his phone went off. Leaning to one side to take the phone out of his pocket and answer it quickly. His lips pursed as he listened to the person on the other end before hanging up, having not said a thing.

"Business that doesn't appear to have gone well." Lizzie murmured.

Rather than say anything, Red took a large swig of his scotch.

"Where's Naomi Hyland?"

Red closed his eyes tightly, his face contorted in a grimace. "Lizzie, I just finished saying that I don't like how much our visits are about the list. This dinner was an attempt to rectify –"

"And this is a part of our history. I can't help that our family history is so terribly intertwined with the list, Dad." Red cut him off, her voice a harsh whisper as she tried to keep her voice down in the packed restaurant. "I need to talk to her."

"You want to talk to her perhaps – some lingering personal questions you think my ex-wife can answer." He stated, his voice suddenly dripping darkness.

"You're hiding her from me." Lizzie accused.

Red stared at her for a minute before looking away, taking a small sip of his Scotch. "What do you know about Paul Wyatt?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair as she decided to go along with the shift in topic. For now. "Same as everyone else, I guess. He ran an investment firm but was being investigated by the S.E.C. for fraud. He was stealing life savings and pensions. Only to turn up with his heart ripped from his chest. Probably by one of his clients. Police say that whoever did it was trying to make a point."

Red chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, well, as much as I admire the police for their wonderful sense of irony, I'm afraid they've got this one wrong. The man who killed Paul Wyatt wasn't trying to make a point. He was trying to make a sale. His name is Dr. James Covington. A few years ago, he was considered one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the country. Now he runs an illegal organ-transplant ring. His operation, if you'll indulge the term, is one-stop shopping for anyone who needs a life-saving organ transplant but who can't or doesn't want to go through conventional channels. That includes criminals and wealthy clients who don't happen to be first in line on the recipient list."

Lizzie raised a brow. "Now who's the one mixing father-daughter time with the list?"

Red merely smiled benignly at her. When she was certain he wasn't going to rise to her bait, Lizzie sighed, diving into work. "He's harvesting organs killing innocent people to sell off their parts?"

"Lizzie, some of the worst of the worst are still alive because Dr. Covington is saving them."

"And you know how to find him?"

"No."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

As the group walked towards him, Aram swung around in his chair to face his computer. "Mr. Reddington was right. Covington was once a respected surgeon got his M.D. at Yale, fellowship in cardiothoracic surgery at Vanderbilt."

"So what went wrong?" Ressler asked, pulling out one of the high sitting chairs and helping Liz sit in it.

"He had some kind of meltdown. According to this, he falsified a document and stole a set of lungs from the donor pool. Did some kind of experimental operation on a 10-year-old child."

"Geez." Ressler grumbled as Lizzie sucked in a breath, unconsciously rubbing her belly.

"A few weeks later, the guy who was supposed to receive the transplant died. The D.A. considered charging Covington, but he was already off the grid."

"I'm sorry. Are those real-time NSA feeds?" Samar spoke up, looking at the large screens above their heads. "They would kill to see these in Tehran."

"How does an Iranian end up working for Mossad?" Lizzie questioned suddenly. She didn't really trust this woman. She sure as hell didn't like her. And now this woman is going to go all gooey eyed over their equipment and intel during a briefing? Timing, Sweetheart.

Samar looked away from the screens and threw a smirk at Lizzie. "How did the FBI end up working for Raymond Reddington?"

Lizzie's lips tightened but she was kept from replying as Cooper walked up. "Medical examiner just called. He needs to see you, stat."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Mind telling me what that was back there?" Ressler asked softly, not taking his eyes off the road.

"How do we know we can trust her?" Lizzie grumped.

Ressler smothered a smirk before shrugging. "We don't. But she did save our asses. That buys her some good will, don't you think?"

"You know my Dad brought her in. There has to be something going on there."

Ressler couldn't stop the chuckle from bubbling out of his throat. "Sounds like someone's a little jealous." He teased.

Lizzie shot Ressler a glare before turning to look out the window. "Anyway, I'm just glad we decided to keep the big picture between the four of us." Lizzie said softly, referring to the agreement between Red, Cooper, Ressler, and herself to keep the rest of the task force in the dark for as long as possible. The less who knew the less likely it was that word got out. And she wouldn't never give Samar Navabi that sort of leverage.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie and Ressler turned at the sound of the swinging doors opening. "Dr. Ryerson, what did you find?" Lizzie asked, walking towards the ME.

"Well" Dr. Ryerson cleared his throat. "I, uh, just completed my autopsy on Mr. Wyatt here. I was told that that your theory was that the – the the heart was harvested. It is." The man stopped to cough several times. "Yeah, well, buy a hat and hang onto it, because, um, that theory may have a little wrinkle. The incision in his chest was made over a prior midline incision. Tox screen was positive for immunosuppressive drugs, and, um, I am seeing scarring of the aorta."

Lizzie and Ressler shared a confused glance. "All of which means what?" Ressler asked.

"Well, t- there's there's residual foreign tissue left behind from when the heart was removed." When it was obvious that Lizzie and Ressler weren't catching on, the ME sighed. "This guy ha previous heart transplant. The heart that was taken from his chest – wasn't his to begin with."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie and Ressler sat on the couch of the deceased investment firm owner's home, his widow sat across from them.

"Look, I wish I could help, but my life it's in disarray. We file for bankruptcy, and now this?" Mrs. Wyatt wiped her eyes with a scrunched up tissue.

Lizzie winced in sympathy. "Mrs. Wyatt, we really need you to look at the reports."

"We've been over your husband's medical files. There's no reference to a heart transplant." Ressler stated, his voice soft.

"I don't know what to say."

"We checked. There's no record of your husband ever receiving a donor organ." Lizzie pushed, noticing the way Mrs. Wyatt had shifted in her seat and attempted a nonchalant shrug.

Mrs Wyatt's face crumpled. "They'll kill me if I talk." She whispered, horrified.

"Unless you talk, there's nothing we can do to protect you." Lizzie stated sternly.

Mrs Wyatt sniffled. "Dr. James Covington." She said the name quickly, as if it were a curse and she was ashamed to utter it.

"Your husband was one of his clients?"

"Paul suffered from congestive heart failure." Mrs. Wyatt confessed, nodding her head. "He needed a transplant. H– he could have waited, put his name on the donor list like everyone else, but not Paul. We had the money, so he found a way to get the transplant immediately."

"He bought a heart from Covington." Ressler stated, wishing for confirmation.

"Yes and no. The organs that Dr. Covington provides they're not available for purchase. You rent them $500,000 for every year you use the product." Mrs. Wyatt winced as she tore up the tissue in her hands. "When Paul's business was thriving, that wasn't a problem. But after the S.E.C. investigation, we couldn't afford to pay. And if you can't pay, you have to return the product."

Lizzie eyes widened in horror. "Excuse me?"

Mrs Wyatt's lips trembled, her eyes widening in an effort to hold back more tears. "My husband's heart wasn't harvested. It was repossessed."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Repossessed for nonpayment like a house or a car." Cooper asked, shocked.

Lizzie nodded her head. "Exactly, he killed Paul Wyatt because he didn't get his 500 grand in the annual rental fee."

"How does that work, anyway?" Cooper questioned, his brow furrowed. "Once a heart's been transplanted, can it be reused?"

"Covington didn't kill him to reuse the heart. He did it to send a message."

"Where I come from, fear is the only deterrent." Samar stated, a small frown on her face.

"I'm from Delaware." At Samar's incredulous look, Aram cleared his throat awkwardly. "No, I– I'm just saying I'm actually half-Jewish. Well, a quarter, really. Half-Muslim, too, so but, um– " He leaned towards Samar. "Who's counting?" He murmured.

Ressler rolled his eyes, sharing a grin with Lizzie. "I've been tracking the info we got from Mrs. Wyatt. According to her, they paid the annual rental fee by making donations to a charity called the WellbrightFund. It's a registered 501(C)(3) nonprofit."

Cooper crossed his arms. "Did you pull a tax return, get a list of company expenses?"

"Yeah, and get this the fund paid over 200 grand to a Dr. Gordon Albee for consulting services."

"Consulting on what? –"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Red chuckled as he listened to the tale Niko was spinning about his and their other associates' interesting encounter. "Mr. Vargas. Sounds like some shady character in a Humphrey Bogart film. I like him already."

"He said he worked for Berlin." Niko leaned towards Red over the table as he spoke.

Red leaned away from the man. He had terrible halitosis. "And his offer?"

"He said Berlin's opening up a short window. If we break with you, he'll let us operate under his name."

Red's brow raised. "And you think some of the others were receptive."

"The others are supporting you at great risk. If the port deal goes south, it could bankrupt us. It's a very fragile proposition." Niko stated, barely able to restrain the heat in his voice.

"Thank you, Niko. I appreciate you coming to me with your opinion. But I'm feeling bullish." Red stated as he stood, palming his fedora and placing it atop his head. "Keep an eye on the others. If someone intends to defect, I want to be standing right in front of them."

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie sat in the office she shared with Don, going over her profile of Covington, when her phone began to ring. Recognizing the number, she quickly answered, a small smile on her face.

"Hey Ress. How'd it go?"

"We got nothing." Ressler sighed. "Albee refused to talk and we don't have enough on him to bring him in."

Lizzie gnawed on her lip for a moment before sitting up in her seat. "Hey, I've got an idea. I'll call you back, okay?"

As soon as they hung up, Lizzie hit number one on her speed dial.

"Hey Dad, listen, can I borrow Katy Cat?"

/\/\/\/\/\

Red walked over from where he'd been speaking to the caretaker. "Oh, my God. He wouldn't stop talking." He groaned. "But I was able to buy us another hour. We need to wrap this up quickly, though. He has bowling league at 6:00."

"Maybe this was a mistake." Lizzie questioned, her voice muffled by her hand as she covered her nose. Even though she was standing several feet away from the open coffin, the stench was bringing up terrible memories of morning sickness.

Red walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her into his side. "It's not."

"You said yourself it would take weeks to secure the necessary court orders, and how many more victims will there be by then?"

Mr. Kaplan stood up from where she'd been performing an autopsy on the poor dead guy. "It's the same as the other three heart and lungs are missing. This one still has a liver, but I see signs of cirrhosis probably wasn't healthy enough to be sold."

Red walked over and stood beside her, gazing into the coffin. "Remember the time we made barley stew with that coroner from Des Moines?"

"It was Reuben soup." Mr Kaplan corrected, chuckling. "How can I forget? I was sleeping with his sister."

Red threw his head back and laughed. "That's right."

Mr. Kaplan smiled before looking over at Lizzie, grasping the camera around her neck. "Your Dr. Albee's in a lot of trouble, sweetie. This should be all you need." She stated, before taking a few pictures.

/\/\/\/\/\

"What are the odds that Covington's courier – will inspect the organ?" Ressler stood in front of Dr. Albee's desk, his hands on his hips.

"Count on it." Albee murmured, placing ice packs in the thermal container. "He's gonna have to make sure the size and weight are a match for their patient."

"You don't think that he's gonna notice that he's staring at the heart of a 300-pound hog?" Ressler questioned, eyeing the heart in the jar warily as Albee carefully placed it inside its container.

"Human and porcine hearts are nearly identical. Unless he's got some expertise, he won't be able to tell the difference."

Both men's heads turned on a swivel as the door opened to permit Lizzie.

"Aram just finished the mockup for the medical file on our fictitious donor."

Ressler smirked as he took the file from her. "Old Porko's got a name." He joked as he read the file. "Gustavo Mosquera, 35, no history of heart disease. Killed in a hit-and-run. Time of death –"

"30 minutes ago." Lizzie finished for him. "Aram even generated a social and W-2 in case they run a background check. What's our E.T.A. for delivery?" She directed the last question to the doctor.

Albee looked at his watch. "Within the hour."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Liz and Ressler stood in the hallway of the doctor's office, about to take their positions. "I really wish I could go with you. I miss it." Lizzie murmured.

The plan was to identify the courier as he came into the office then Ressler and Samar would follow him to his destination.

"And you know why you can't." Ressler murmured, a soft smile on his face.

Lizzie rolled her eyes but nodded her head all the same, returning his smile as she took his hand. Leading him into an alcove, she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Dinner at my place tonight? I'll cook."

"What have I done to deserve that?" Ressler teased, a mischievous grin on his face as he rested his hands on her waist.

Lizzie pinched his neck lightly, an affronted look on her face. "I can cook, jerk!" She laughed.

Ressler chuckled before he leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss. "Dinner at yours it is then." He said softly. "Now c'mon, lets go ID this guy."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Niko leaned forward, passing over a large manila envelope. "My men captured this two hours ago."

Red stared passively at Niko for a moment before taking the enveloped and opening it to find surveillance photos inside. "Titillating." He muttered, putting the photos back into the envelope having only glanced at them. "But what Laskin and Russo do with or to one another in their spare time is none of my concern."

"Right, except a minute later–" Niko pulled out another photo from his lap and showed it to Red.

"A threesome? Interesting. Based on his sartorial splendor, I gather this is Mr. Vargas." Red squinted at the picture, peering at the third person who had apparently met with two of his associates. "Does that even look like real hair?"

"We have to assume they accepted his offer and cut the deal with Berlin." Niko implored.

"Why assume, Niko, when I can ask them myself?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie snapped a photo of the suspect as he left the waiting room with the organ transport bag in hand. With a couple taps of her fingers, the photo was sent to Aram whom she immediately called. "I just sent you an image of a man who matches our suspect's description."

"Got it. I am processing him through the database now." Lizzie could hear the sound of Aram typing away for a few moments. "Ah ha! Ronald Cassell. Check fraud, theft, battery. But he does have some medical training. Former army combat medic out of Fort Drum."

"Heads up, everybody. Target's on the move. Ressler, he's headed towards the front door." Lizzie muttered into her ear piece.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Gentlemen, thank you for meeting me on such short notice." Red walked into the warehouse with his usual swagger, a large grin on his face. "I know you two have had a very busy day."

Laskin and Russo shared a confused glance. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Russo stated.

Red raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "I hear you boys engaged in a little tryst downtown this morning."

Laskin frowned and shrugged his shoulders. "We had a meeting at the Corgate. This an interrogation?"

"Yes. I understand an offer was made by Berlin's representative." Red got straight to the point.

"Red, look –"Russo spoke up, shifting on his feet.

"What I don't understand is why only one of my associates thought to bring that to my attention."

"We didn't tell because there's nothing to tell." Laskin argued.

Red cocked his head and nodded, smiling innocently as he looked over at Russo. "J.P., I'm delighted you were able to hold dear Teddy's hand and help him overcome all his anxieties about me bankrupting our operation."

Laskin coughed awkwardly into his hand. "I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't concerned about this deal."

Red's lips thinned as he gazed at his associates. "If I were you, Teddy, I'd be more concerned about the plans these gentlemen have for your immediate future." At that moment, Dembe and another of Red's men came up behind the two men and grasped them tightly around the forearm.

"What? What? What are you doing? Wait a minute. Stop! Red, Red! – What's going on? – Ow! – Come on! What the hell? Don't do this. Don't Aah! Let me go!" They both shouted as they were carted off to the waiting vehicles.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"So you're saying we just lost our only lead to Covington." Lizzie muttered, frustrated as she spoke on the phone with Ressler. He'd called to tell her that the courier had led them on a chase that ultimately ended up with the man getting hit by a car.

"Maybe there's another way. I just found a medical file of Covington's next client."

"The one who's getting the pig's heart? Who is it?"

"His name is Bernard Babbitt."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Bernard Babbitt, known as 'B.B.,' runs the Desobry Syndicate out of New Orleans moving drugs and weapons through the Fourchon." Aram listed off facts from the man's dossier as the team and Red gathered around his desk.

"Bureau's been trying to indict him on racketeering and murder charges for years." Cooper stated in his gravelly voice.

"So, you know him?" Lizzie asked, turning to face Red.

"Know him?" Red laughed. "Oh, my gosh. I once shared a ride with the man on a twin-engine prop from Port Au Prince to Baracoa. We had to counterweight the plane with three containers of Russian R.P.G.s just to accommodate his girth."

Lizzie rolled her eyes good naturedly as Cooper frowned at the off handed comment about illegal arms. "I would have thought he'd be more cautious about where he chooses to hang out." Lizzie pointed out.

"Well, B.B.'s an indulgent man. He loves to be surrounded with what he loves the most." Red's smile quickly turned to a frown as he looked over at Lizzie. "Lizzie?" He questioned, taking a step closer.

Lizzie winced once more, her hand rubbing her belly as she leaned against a table. "I'm fine, don't worry." She murmured. "He just really likes taking kidney shots lately."

Red's brow furrowed in worry as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure, Sweetheart?" He murmured, the rest of the team's presence fading into the background in his concern.

Lizzie looked up at her dad and smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine." She turned her head to look at Ressler who'd stood back, despite the obvious concern on his face. "Really." She emphasized, looking directly at Ressler.

/\/\/\/\/\

"B.B!" Red called out, his arms outstretched in front of him as he made his way through the restaurant. "Just like a bear at a campsite. You poor thing. Honestly, I don't know how you do it. It boggles the imagination." Red gestured towards the other man's girth as he sat down beside him.

Babbitt stared at Red dispassionately, grease covering his lips and chin as he threw down a chicken wing. "Red." He murmured in greeting.

"I suppose it isn't any wonder you can justify cramming all this grease-drenched gristle into your face given that you've already paid to replace that rotted nub you call a heart. How's that going, by the way?" Red leaned towards B.B. "I heard you had a setback a problem with the donor not coming through?"

Babbitt frowned before looking over at the beautiful woman sitting on his other side. "Give us a moment." He ordered softly. Once she was gone, he looked back to Red. "What do you want, Reddington?"

"The good Dr. Covington, he and I need to have a conversation." Red stated, his tone all business. "And since you happen to be in touch, I thought you could connect us."

Babbitt stared at Red as he took a large slurp of his fruity cocktail.

Red sighed, losing patience. "B.B Surely you have some way to get ahold of the man. You're in his care."

After a short stare down, Babbitt finally shrugged. "I have a number. But strictly for emergencies. So I sure as hell ain't giving it to you. Last thing I need to do is piss this guy off before he cuts my chest open –" Babbitt attempted to laugh though it sounded more like wheezing. "Talk to me after my surgery."

Babbitt's laughter/ wheezing suddenly turned to gasping for air.

"B.B., you don't look well." Red stated with mock concern. "Are you all right? Let me guess: irregular heartbeat, shortness of breath, perhaps a little tingling in your nether regions?"

Babbitt grasped the table as he gasped for breath. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Those drinks you've been enjoying on the house? They weren't from the house. They were from me. I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of adding a special surprise ingredient something to treat any localized dysfunction you may be suffering. Has the little man been falling down on the job?" Red crooked his index finger downward. "It's a miracle drug, not so much for a glutton with a bum heart, however. But look on the bright side, you'll die with a marvelous erection."

Babbitt's eyes widened as he quickly turned the nozzle on his oxygen tank to try and get more. "I can't I can't breathe."

"Well, the two gentlemen behind me happen to be paramedics." Red pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Put me in touch with Covington, they'll be happy to assist you. What do you think, B.B.? Does this feel like an emergency?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie knocked on the doorframe to Cooper's office as the door was already wide open. "You wanted to see me?"

Cooper looked up and smiled, whipping his glasses off his face as he stood up. "Close the door. – "Lizzie smiled shakily as she did as ordered. Cooper quickly gestured for her to take a seat as he sat back down. "– I realized we haven't had a chance to speak since well, since you told the truth."

Lizzie winced, beginning to run her thumb along her scar. "Yes sir." She murmured, unsure of where this was heading.

"And I wanted to assuage any worries you may have." He intoned.

Lizzie looked over at him, her face twisting in confusion. "Sir?"

Cooper chuckled at her obvious discomfort. "Breathe, Elizabeth." He said softly. "I just wanted to say that I found that you're…that you were a fantastic agent."

Lizzie tried to hide her wince behind a smile at his compliment. She could tell that he meant it as a compliment but the past tense still stung a bit. "Thank you, sir." She murmured.

"I also wanted to assure you of my complete faith in you. I do not believe that your relationship with Reddington undermines your abilities or integrity as a profiler."

Lizzie's eyes widened and became misty. I am not going to cry in front of my boss. I am not going to cry. Nope. Not gonna. Dammit. "Th—thank you, sir." She choked out.

Cooper smiled with a small nod of his head. "You're dismissed." He said kindly, understanding that she may not wish him to see her cry.

Lizzie merely nodded and levered herself with some difficulty out of the chair before hurriedly waddling away.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie had just walked into the war room after splashing her face with some cold water in the bathroom when her cellphone began to go off. Checking the ID, she quickly answered.

"Hey, did you get a lead on Covington? What are we looking at?

"I'm beginning to think that in addition to immunity, the FBI should be paying me with the amount of crap I do for them."

/\/\/\/\/\

"We've got a number on Covington. Aram's working a trace." Lizzie waved the little piece of paper she'd scribbled the number onto above her head as she walked over to Aram, Ressler, and Cooper.

Aram quickly took the scrap and input the number into his computer. "It's a digital VoIP line. Uh, man, this thing is getting bounced all over the globe to mask its origin." Aram froze for a moment at the sound of beeping. "The line just went active. Covington's making a call." He whispered.

With a few clicks, Covington's voice came over the speakers. "What the hell happened to Cassell? – He called in, said he –"

"Okay, hold on. If he stays on the line just a few more seconds, I'll have an address." Aram muttered, hunched over his computer.

"I need you here. We have a removal at 5:00." Covington continued speaking.

"All right. I'm on my way in now." A second voice replied before both hung up.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. Damn it." Aram muttered angrily. "I was only able to narrow his location down – to this five-block area." Aram pointed to a small area on a map.

"He said he had a removal. He's gonna repossess another organ." Lizzie said in horror.

Ressler frowned, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more prominent. "Well, we got to move. If we don't find Covington in 43 minutes, we're gonna find another body."

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie was once more in her office when her phone rang. It was Ressler. Either they found Covington's base of operations or they'd struck out again.

"Ressler?"

"Liz, he's operating on kids." Ressler said, clearly aggitated.

"What?" Lizzie questioned, horrified, her hand automatically going to her bump and rubbing circles.

"He's taking adult organs and transplanting them into kids, Liz. He has a kid on the table right now, ready to get a lung transplant!"

"Oh god. Is he…Is he saving them?"

"What?!" Ressler cried, not believing what he was hearing.

"Ressler, if he's giving a kid lungs… Ress, if he's giving that child a chance—"

"No! Hell no, Liz! We cannot allow him to perform an illegal surgery!" Ressler yelled in her ear. "Covington's not just a surgeon, Liz. He's a killer."

"Yeah, and right now, he's that kid's only chance. Look at his parents, are his parents there? What if that were your kid?" That's sure as hell what was going through Lizzie's mind right now as she gazed down at her belly.

Ressler blew out a loud breath. "And what if something goes wrong? What if he dies on the table? How do we explain that?"

"And what if he doesn't? What if it works?" Lizzie asked softly. "I can cover with Cooper and Aram, buy you some time."

Ressler was silent for a moment and Lizzie began to bite her lower lip in anxiety. "Liz, this is way over the line." He finally murmured gruffly.

"Please Ressler." She pleaded.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Red walked through the entry into the hangar, several cars containing his entourage sat outside as he and Dembe approached. "Niko, you're all in a sweat." He cried out as he walked towards his associate. "What's so important that it couldn't wait?"

Niko smirked as Red stopped in front of him. "We've been partners a long time, and we've had more than our share of success, so I wanted to pay you the courtesy of looking you in the eye when I tell you you're out."

"I see." Red murmured with a small upturn of his lips. "And you're speaking for…?"

"Everybody." Niko stated grandly, stretching his arms out to the side. "We're united. You've become a liability."

The tick under Red's eye began to twitch. "Don't forget who you're talking to." He said darkly.

"How could I? Especially since it's our last conversation." Niko laughed, turning to his left as Mr. Vargas came out of a shadowed corner. "Raymond Reddington, Mr. Vargas." He introduced as Mr. Vargas cocked a gun, aiming it at Red's head. "I may have misled you. Someone did take Berlin up on his offer, but it wasn't Laskin and Russo. It was me."

Red chuckled under his breath. "Well played, Niko. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Kill him" Niko ordered without taking his eyes off of Red. When his order was not carried out immediately, Niko began to shift on his feet.

Red calmly walked up to Mr. Vargas who still had the gun pointed directly at him. He stopped when he was an arm's length away, the gun almost kissing his cheek.

"I find chrome to be a bit ostentatious. Don't you?" Red questioned lightly, taking the gun from Mr. Vargas' loose grip before turning back to Niko, a brilliant grin on his face.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Demakis." Vargas demurred "The truth is I'm the one who misled you." He stated as Laskin and Russo also made an appearance.

Red chuckled as he walked over to a small table and sat down, proffering a chair to Niko who flumped into said chair, his eyes glassing over as he began to connect the dots.

"You know, when I was 15, I had a summer job installing carpets for Albert Kodagolian on Lake Charlevoix. Horrible job, hot, indoors, forced to listen to 'The Gambler' on 8-track while the rest of the world was at the beach. Three days into the job, I knew I had to quit." Red paused, shaking his head nostalgically. "I asked my father for advice. All he wanted to know was whether I'd given my word to Mr. Kodagolian that I'd work the summer. I told him I had. My father suggested I stick it out. I'd given my word." Red sighed. "

Worst eight weeks of my life!" He cried. "Until the last day. Mr. Kodagolian shows up at the jobsite, pulls me aside, and tells me that in 27 years, no kid has ever made it through the summer, gives me a bonus $40. The most valuable money I've ever made. A priceless lesson about life." Red leaned toward Niko, his eyes becoming hardened. "Value loyalty above all else." He stated darkly before jumping out of his seat energetically, the gun still held loosely in his hand.

"Oh!" Red spun on his heel, having appeared to be readying to exit. "I buried the lead. Turns out the Indonesian government has chosen to contract our company to run the Port Of Tan Kulu. The Deputy Minister of Transportation was not a fan." Red stated with mock affront. "Fortunately, he was also gravely ill and in desperate need of a heart transplant. He died this morning. Apparently, the arrangements he'd made to secure a donor heart didn't pan out. The new deputy minister sees things our way. Lucky, I guess."

"I don't believe luck had anything to do with it." Niko murmured.

Red smirked, nodding his head. "You're right. Luck rarely has anything to do with it." He stated darkly, took aim, and shot Niko in the chest.

"Honestly," Red spun around to see Mr. Vargas clutching his chest, his face ashen. "How many times have we discussed this?"

Red looked around, confused. "What?"

"You you know I don't like being around the bloody st– "Vargas swayed on his feet. "Oh. I need to be allowed to leave the room before the blood. You know I don't have a strong constitution." He said hurriedly before covering his mouth, turning away from the sight of the blood.

Red's eyes widened in concern as he walked over to where Mr. Vargas stood with a couple of Red's security guys. "Give him his seat." Red ordered the men who quickly jumped to do his bidding. "He's gonna faint. Oh, my."

Vargas breathed shakily as the men helped him into a seat. "Thank you." He murmured.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie looked up from where she was gathering all of her things to head out for the evening at the sound of a knock at her door.

"You caught Covington, and the child is in recovery. It sounds like a victory." Samar said, smiling kindly.

"Yeah." Lizzie muttered, attempting a smile in return but knowing she failed miserably.

"You guys don't celebrate when you close a big case?" Samar questioned. "Come on. Let me buy you a drink – I mean – " Samar stuttered to a halt, wincing at her blunder.

Lizzie's smile was a bit more authentic this time, even if it was at the other woman's expense. "Thanks, but I think I'm just gonna head out." She stated, heading towards the door, expecting Samar to move out of her way. She didn't.

"All you know about me is that I found Reddington – and whatever you might have read in a slim dossier." Samar stated, her demeanor hardening slightly, clearly sensing Lizzie's hostility. "And now we're working together with all that that implies. I'm sure you don't know what to think."

"You're wrong." Lizzie stated simply.

"I'm not wrong." Samar countered. "You're right not to trust me."

"Oh, you're right about that." Liz scoffed. "You're wrong if you think you found Reddington. If he was found, it's because he wanted to be and he wanted you to find him."

Samar's brow quirked and her lips parted in affront. "Or maybe I'm just good at what I do. Is that so difficult to believe?"

Lizzie shook her head. "If he wanted you here, he has a reason." A small smirk crossed Lizzie's face. "That's why I don't trust you – because I don't know what the reason is – and I'm guessing neither do you."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie and Ressler sat on her couch, her legs in Ressler's lap as he gently massaged the arch of her left foot. "Hey, I'm sorry about earlier today." Lizzie said softly. "I shouldn't have put you in the position to make that choice."

Ressler smiled over at her. "Don't worry about it. I had to make the choice either way. You just helped me make the right one."

"Really?"

"Yea. I mean, for every kid Covington saved, there were three killers like B.B. he kept alive to victimize innocent people. But today—" Ressler cleared his throat. "When we usually find these guys, they're rarely sitting down to dinner or watching t.v. Have you ever noticed that?" Ressler asked rhetorically. "They're always in the middle of doing something terrible. But today, that kid, he saved him. We saved him." Ressler paused and grabbed his beer, taking a quick swig. "I can definitely live with that."

Lizzie's face softened as she smiled sweetly at Ress. "Yea, yea we did." She murmured.

Ressler gave her one of his crooked grins. As he looked at her, his eyes skittered over to the clock on the wall.

"Shit, I should head home." He muttered, making as if to stand but Lizzie kept her feet in his lap.

"You could stay." She said under her breath.

Ressler froze, his eyes widening. "What?"

"I—I mean, to sleep. Just to sleep." She stammered.

"Oh uh—yea, right. Sure." Ressler muttered, coughing awkwardly, clearly disappointed.

"I'm sorry." Lizzie winced. "It's not that I don't want to, Ress. I promise"

"Then what is it?" He questioned softly. There was no longer a trace of disappointment on his face, though his eyes were pinched with wary curiosity.

Lizzie brought her legs up and rolled to her side so she could sit up. "I just—I'm not comfortable." She muttered, looking down at her lap.

"With me?" Ressler questioned, his voice tinged with worry.

"No! I mean, yes. Wait. Shit." Lizzie sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. "I just don't want the first time you see me naked to be when I'm—" Lizzie gestured down at her belly, wincing in insecurity.

Ressler's eyes softened as understanding dawned. "Liz, you're beautiful." He said gently, his cheeks reddening.

Lizzie smiled, her own cheeks gaining some color. "Thank you."

"Is that all it is? I mean, I get it, no pressure." Ressler backpedalled, not meaning to sound inconsiderate.

"No, I mean, that's part of it." Lizzie bit her lip and began rubbing her bump. "I just… don't understand how you could want to be with me." She murmured in a rush.

"Are you kidding me?" Ressler asked incredulously. "Liz, you're brilliant, you're beautiful, and you're my best friend, the only person I trust with everything. Of course I want you!"

Lizzie laughed wetly, embarrassed, before growing serious again. "I just mean that…I'm Raymond Reddington's daughter. I'm pregnant with a spy's baby. I've got a lot of baggage, Don. Do you really want to deal with all that?"

"Yes." Ressler stated simply, not even taking a moment to mull over his answer. "Liz, we talked about your dad. I get it, really I do. I don't look forward to the inevitable boyfriend intimidation I'm going to be subjected to, but I get it." Ress paused with a smile as Lizzie giggled, sniffling. "And the baby…as far as I'm concerned he's yours. No one else's. He's your baby. And I love the tyke just for being yours."

"Oh Don!" She cried, rocking on her bum a couple times before she was able to get enough leverage to launch herself at Ressler, landing in his lap with a small oompf. "Thank you." She whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned in for a kiss. Ressler smiled softly at her and quickly reciprocated, his arms wrapping around her middle. She moaned as he nipped her lower lip with his teeth, parting her lips to allow him entrance.

Pulling away for breath after several heated moments, Lizzie rested her forehead against Ressler's. "Bed?"

Ressler searched her eyes for a moment, a soft smile sliding across his face as he found what he was looking for. Lizzie readily returned his smile with her own grateful one.

Yea." He said, kissing her on the nose. "Let's get some sleep."