Bit of a heads up... There are a couple scenes where I didn't stick to my usual Red or Lizzie POV. Also, there's a bit of swearing at the end of this one and I apologize in advance... but not for the swearing.
"Ew gross, Ress! You're all sweaty!" Lizzie laughed as she removed Sammy's car seat from the stroller, careful not to jar the happily smiling baby.
"You're no better!" Ressler teased though he stepped away, removing his hands from her waist.
Dembe and Ezra laughed as well as they all walked down the hallway towards Lizzie's kitchen. They'd all just come back from a run – part of Lizzie's get-back-into-shape-to-chase-down-bad-guys regime and all three men had kindly agreed to help her. Okay, so she'd bullied Don into it and she was pretty sure Dembe and Ezra went on these runs to protect her and Sammy. But it was fun, they all enjoyed it and Sammy loved watching the world around him wiz by as the four adults took turns pushing the stroller as they jogged through the park.
As the group walked into the kitchen, Lizzie smiled at her dad who sat at the little breakfast nook, reading the paper.
"Ah! The conquering heroes have returned!" He yelled jovially. "How was your run?"
Lizzie laughed as she walked over to where her dad sat and put Sammy's car seat atop the table. "We're good."
Lizzie rolled her eyes as she was promptly ignored by her dad in favor of cooing at Sammy. Taking the proffered water bottle from Ressler with a murmured thanks, she watched her dad interact with Sammy.
"Hello little man! I've missed you!" Red enthused gently as he carefully extracted a happily cooing Sammy, the three months old's face splitting into a wide grin in recognition. Red and Dembe had arrived back last night from a short business trip.
As Red brought him closer, Sammy greeted him with a pat on the cheek with his little fist. Red chuckled. "Oh that never gets old." He muttered, his heart constricting at the baby's happy greeting as he bounced the bubbly boy in his arms.
Lizzie smiled at the sight, leaning over to kiss her dad on the cheek before turning to face the other three men.
"Alright gentlemen, I call first dibs on the shower." She waited for them to nod obediently before continuing. "Dembe, will you make breakfast? I could really go for one of your spinach and tomato frittatas."
With a chuckle, Dembe nodded his compliance "Aye aye Captain," he teased before heading over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.
"Dad, I've got a bottle prepared for Sam in the fridge. Will you feed him? He'll be hungry soon." Lizzie asked, turning her head back towards her father.
"Of course Sweetheart."
Lizzie looked over towards her boyfriend. "And you, would you like to join me?" She asked with a smirk.
Don coughed awkwardly, his eyes shifting towards Red as her dad groaned unhappily "Lizzie, please – " He pleaded.
Lizzie simply laughed and grabbed her boyfriend's hand before heading down the hall.
As she laughed, Ezra and Dembe laughed at Red's pained face.
"She really knows how to whip you guys into shape." Ezra teased.
Red raised a brow, unamused. "Remember who signs your paychecks, young man."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
They were now all freshly showered, happily enjoying their delicious breakfast. Ressler had to eat one handed as he cradled a sleeping Sammy in one arm.
"Ok so, is everything set up at the daycare?" Lizzie questioned her dad. Today was going to be her first day back to work and she was insanely nervous about leaving Sam.
"Yes Lizzie, don't worry." Red placated.
A month back, Red had come to her and told her that he had recently started up a non-profit – a child care business for low-income families. It was a lovely front for building a daycare right across the street from the Post Office. He had told Cooper that any of the task force's agents with children were free to utilize the day care for heavily reduced rates. Surprisingly, most of them had taken him up on the offer. Daycare was expensive. And between Red's associates and the task force's own security measures, the place was a Fort Knox for toddlers.
The overall safety of the facility and the knowledge that Sammy would have his own detail – including Ezra, didn't hamper her instinct to want to keep him close.
"He's right, Liz." Ressler murmured as he swallowed a mouthful of bacon. "Sammy will be fine."
Lizzie sighed, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. The last three months had been like living in the Twilight Zone sometimes. They were far from best friends – Captain America and banana peel quips still flowed freely – but she didn't think she'd ever get used to her dad and Don's alliance when it came to her and Sammy's wellbeing.
"Okay fine."
The men around her smiled encouragingly and she couldn't help but smile back.
"Well, now that that is out of the way, let's move on to our new blacklister, shall we?" Both Lizzie and Ressler sat up in their seats. "There was an incident this morning in DuPont Circle. A woman was struck by a taxi Carrie Ann Beck."
Lizzie frowned, knowing she knew that name from somewhere. "Maddox Beck's wife?"
Red nodded, his expression dimming as they moved onto business. "Yes. The leaders of The Front."
"Well, how is that possible?" Ressler questioned. "They died trying to bomb BP's London Office in response to the Gulf Oil Spill."
"So the world believes." Red agreed. "In truth, they took their work underground. Personally, I once admired Carrie Ann. However, since going underground, they've become too radical for my blood, advocates for a level of destruction that I find chilling."
"So who killed her?" Lizzie questioned as she helped herself to a second slice of the frittata.
"I believe her husband is responsible." Red stated gravely before taking a bite of his own food. Both Ezra and Dembe chose to stay quiet during the conversation, turning their attention to their own meals.
"I don't understand. Weren't they partners? Didn't they found the Front together?"
Red nodded his head. "Yes, but their partnership was a tenuous one. She was always the more moderate voice, only interested in operations that related directly to the environment." Red sighed, sitting back in his seat as he wiped his mouth before setting his napkin down. "Beck, on the other hand, views himself as a chosen one, a messianic figure who sees humanity as a virus that needs to be eradicated in order to save the planet. I fear he got rid of his wife because she was trying to stop him from implementing a plan to do just that."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"These are the last known photographs of Maddox Beck and his wife. They're the founders of the Front." Lizzie announced as Aram brought pictures of the couple onto the screen.
"2012 Firebomb strikes a Biotech park in Boston, conducting genomics research, causing sixty-four million dollars in damage. Four staff members were killed and 16 hospitalized. Ricin was mailed to the Fairbanks BLM Office, which manages Transatlantic Pipeline." Aram listed off a couple of the Front's transgressions.
Ressler hastily walked over to the rest of the group. "Just got off with the M.E. He'll have a tox work-up on Beck's wife within the hour."
Cooper frowned, his arms crossed. "We can't assume Beck killed her just because Reddington says so. Get to the morgue. I want a cause of death."
"Her body's not at the morgue." Ressler's eyes skittered over to Liz nervously. "She's at City Memorial. Labor and delivery."
"She was pregnant?" Lizzie questioned, horrified.
/\/\/\/\/\
"Yeah, thirty weeks. From what they can tell, the baby's fine." The pathologist stated as he stood in the hallway of the hospital with Lizzie and Ressler.
"And the mother?" Lizzie questioned.
"The doctors declared her brain dead." The pathologist scratched his forehead. "They put her on life support until they can safely deliver the child. Most of the injuries were sustained, uh, during the accident, but she suffered some injuries beforehand, as well lacerations to the head and the hands and, um, defensive bruises on the forearms."
Lizzie and Ressler shared a glance. "Think he beat her?"
The pathologist pursed his lips before shrugging. "I think she was in one hell of a fight."
Ressler flicked through the file in his hands. "You say in your notes – she had clay under her fingernails? –"
"Clay?" Lizzie interjected. "From where? That's odd, isn't it?"
"The really odd part is that the– The clay is 700 years old."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"The soil found under the nails of Carrie Ann Beck dates back to the 14th century. It's called Raw Sienna." Aram announced as he swiveled in his chair.
"Okay, so, what's it doing there?" Cooper asked.
"Raw Sienna was used by painters at the time, painters who belonged to what's known as the Sienese School. The Prado in Madrid has an exhibit going on right now featuring paintings from the Sienese School. Last week, one of those paintings was stolen."
Ressler stood with his hands on his hips. "That's what she and Beck were fighting over, this painting."
"Maybe they were trying to sell it on the black market, fund their operation." Samar suggested quietly.
"There were 22 paintings at the exhibit. The one that was stolen had been on loan from the Santa Caterina Church in Pisa, and it was, by far, the least valuable." Aram reasoned.
The corners of Lizzie's eyes crinkled in confusion as she leaned against one of the tables. "Then why did they steal it?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Red sighed heavily. He had been sitting in this god forsaken plastic chair for eternity and was quickly losing patience. He was supposed to pick up Sammy from daycare while Lizzie chased down leads. Dear god. The Concierge of Crime was thinking of picking up his grandson from daycare. How wonderfully mundane.
Red looked over at the sound of banging to see a man angrily pounding on the vending machine.
"Number 76. Number 76!" A woman – one of the DMV employees shouted. Red looked down at his ticket. Number 114. Oh hell. Red leaned his head back against the wall behind him with a thump.
/\/\/\/\/\
"I've been busting my ass!" The tiny little stump of a man yelled, angrily stomping around his desk and hopping into his chair. "And now you fire me because I'm not, what, fast enough?!"
"I'll need all your research." Red intoned, his voice all business.
"No!"
"And any leads as to her whereabouts."
"You want me to find the girl?" The man pointed his chunky finger at Red. "I'll find the girl. But these things take time!"
"You don't have any leads!" Red snapped. "You know what? I don't have time! And yet you've had me waiting out there for over 45 minutes! Do you know the vending machine is broken?" Red threw his arm out behind him, indicating the waiting room. "It's as if you enjoy making people miserable!"
The man spread his arms out. "I work at the DMV!" He yelled as if it explained everything, which, in all honesty… it did.
"If you can't do this, I need to find someone who can." Red stated angrily before shaking his head. "Everything rests on finding the girl." He said gravely.
"I understand, and I'm trying my best." The man placated. "But you didn't give me much to go on, and I've had some – " The man broke off with a wheeze and a sigh, looking down at his lap.
Red rolled his eyes and chewed on the inside of his cheek, taking deep breaths. "Is something wrong?" He tried to sound sympathetic. Truly.
"You know what?" The man stood up with a grunt. "Just forget it!"
Red sighed as he took his fedora off and sat in a chair. "Talk to me."
The man rocked on his heels and seemed to vacillate about whether to share. "It's mom." He finally said brokenly.
"Ohh, Glen." Red groaned, his face a mask of both annoyance and sympathy. You had to pity the poor little man.
"Three months ago, she was in the shower, noticed this Lump." Glen stated shakily.
"How bad?"
"Got into her bones. They bombarded her with chemo. We've tried everything. The pills and the diets, biofeedback, music therapy, the Flaxseed diet."
Red looked at Glen incredulously. "Flax seed?"
Glen nodded quickly. "Part of the Budwig Protocol."
Red shook his head, rolling his eyes as he stood up, palming his fedora once more. "I don't have time for this." He muttered as he stood up to leave.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Has mom's illness cramped your busy schedule?!"
"Every time you can't deliver, you do this." Red gestured wildly with his hands. "These cockamamie stories! – My mother is dying! Yes, and your brother-in-law had Legionnaires' disease, and your house was flooded, and I'm still no closer to finding the girl."
Glen pointed towards the door and stomped his feet. "Get out!"
Red huffed, his fists clenched into fists on his hips. "You're the most gifted tracker I know, Glen, but your mouth runs like a scalded dog." He bit out as he made his way to the door. "I don't know why you're mad at me!" He yelled, turning back towards the little man. "You're the one who came up short."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Cooper, Lizzie and Ressler all stood around Aram's desk.
"Codes. What kind of codes?" Cooper questioned.
"You mean written on the back of the painting?" Ressler cut in.
Aram shook his head. "Not on the back. Under the paint."
"The museum sent us everything they had on the stolen painting." Lizzie added. "When it was acquired last year, they ran a series of tests to determine its authenticity."
"Yeah, they used thermal imaging to do microscopic and spectroscopic analysis and found this." Aram pressed a few keys and brought up an image of the painting – darkened as if under a black light with indistinguishable lines and squiggles marring the surface.
"What's it mean?" Cooper questioned.
Aram shrugged his shoulders. "Museum doesn't know. I spoke with the curator."
Cooper's lips thinned before he nodded his head. "Call the National Gallery. Get Lillian Sharp in here. If anyone can make heads or tails of this, she can."
/\/\/\/\/\
"It's a map." Lillian Sharp stated. She stood in Cooper's office, the door closed as she spoke to the group.
"A map to what?" Cooper questioned, leaning back in his chair.
Sharp shook her head and sighed. "A bedtime story. It's a legend about the Apophis Strain, an ancient plague weaponized in the 14th century by both the Byzantines and the Ottomans that was mistakenly released and believed to be the real origin of the black death."
"You're talking about the Bubonic Plague." Lizzie framed it as a statement, watching Ressler shift on his feet out of the corner of her eye.
"No Pneumonic Plague, which is airborne and far more fatal." Sharp paused. "Scientists now believe that was the plague that killed 200 million people, one of the largest pandemics in history. That's why, to prevent Armageddon, the sworn enemies agreed to task four priests to take the strain to the end of the world."
"And this map indicates in which end of the world it's hidden." Cooper murmured.
Sharp chuckled, shaking her head. "Agent Cooper, you're not taking this seriously, are you?"
Cooper sat up in his seat, folding his hands over top his desk. "Maddox Beck is. He killed his wife to get this map. These symbols …"
"Trust me. This map is worthless."
/\/\/\/\/\
Lizzie sat at her desk, going through files, hoping to wrap up the day's paperwork so she could go home when her cell phone rang.
"Keen." She answered.
"Lizzie, I need to see you. There's been a development." Her dad's voice floated through the phone.
Lizzie groaned at this. "Fine, but bring Sammy. I haven't seen him all day."
"Of course, Lizzie." Red stated with an indulgent chuckle.
/\/\/\/\/\
Red had directed her to an office building which was currently closed for the night. Walking down the hallway, Lizzie came across her brother standing guard and quickly walked forward to give him a hug and he silently pointed to the office where her father was waiting. As she walked through the doorway of the offices, Lizzie stopped short and raised her brow. Her father was standing next to Lillian Sharp, chatting with her, one hand on Sammy's back as the baby rested comfortably in a baby carrier strapped to her father's chest. Well that's going to have to be a sight that gets repeated, preferably at a time when Lizzie had a camera and the lights were on.
Noticing her appearance, Red and Lillian looked over at her in greeting. Upon seeing her amused shock, Red looked down as if just now remembering that he had his grandson strapped to his chest. "What? It's handy." Red defended jokingly, lifting his hands to his side and flashing them in a sort of jazz hands motion.
Lizzie snorted, shaking her head before looking over at Ms. Sharp as she walked towards her dad. "I'm assuming that since you're here, you've something to tell me?" Lizzie questioned as she helped her dad remove some of the straps keeping Sammy safely contained and carefully lifted him out of the carrier, kissing his head as he cooed excitedly.
"The map is priceless." Sharp stated bluntly. "You need to move on this now. If the Apophis Strain is out there –"
Lizzie looked between Sharp and her father, incredulous. "You didn't tell this to the FBI?"
Red gave Lizzie his best 'I'm innocent' smile. "Lillian is paid to embargo certain key details from your colleagues if she believes they may be of interest to me."
"You sure she can be trusted?" Sharp questioned, looking Lizzie up and down.
Lizzie looked at the woman as if she were crazy. Even if she didn't know their exact relationship the man had just handed off a baby to her, a baby both adults were clearly attached to. That requires a bit more than a modicum of trust. Who the hell did this woman think she was? "I could say the same thing about you." She uttered sarcastically.
"Ladies, please." Red said tiredly. "I'm surprised the two of you haven't met at a conference or company retreat." Red looked over at Lizzie with a benign smile. "Does the FBI do a Christmas party?"
Lizzie gave her dad the stink eye as she bounced Sammy in her arms, unable to keep a smile off her face as the baby shoved his fingers in his mouth.
"One of the priests sent to guard the strain got sick." Sharp stated as if she'd already been half way through a story. "And to protect it, the dying man swallowed it whole, taking it to his grave. We know this because the others survived and created the map."
"And the markings? What do they mean?" Lizzie asked as Red unfurled a print out of the painting/ map and placed it on the desk behind them. As she walked over to get a closer look, she had to quickly adjust her hold on Sammy as he tried to lean over to get a better look as well.
"They're archetypal alignments." Sharp explained, tracing one of the lines with her finger. "When you connect them, they create lay lines linking a network of historically significant sites."
"You said the priests were sent to the end of the world. Where?"
Sharp smiled mischievously. "Well, I said it was the end of the world. Not anymore. If I'm reading this correctly, the strain is buried here in America."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Red's source says the map points to Burial Ridge in Staten Island. It's the largest native American burial ground in New York." Lizzie spoke into her phone, holding it between herself and Ressler so that both could hear and speak clearly as she and Ressler sped down the highway.
"We've contacted local authorities. We're on our way now." Ressler stated as he drove.
"I-I don't know how to break this to you, but, uh, Beck beat you there." Aram stuttered.
Lizzie and Ressler shared a worried glance. "What are you talking about?"
"New York Field Office got called in on a grave robbery. According to park police, our guy, Beck, he knew exactly where to look." Aram explained.
"The bones contain the DNA of the plague. Once he has it, he can replicate it." Lizzie stated with growing horror.
Ressler shook his head slowly. "That's why he took the bones."
"No, he wanted to take them, but according to park police, whoever was buried there was moved." Samar's voice floated around the inside of the car.
"Hundreds of years ago. I'm sending you an image of what was left in its place." The sound of keys being pressed accompanied Aram's voice and moments later, Lizzie's phone dinged with an incoming message.
"Got it." Lizzie announced, quickly opening the image file.
"We think it's a marker, some sort of addendum to the map." Aram explained.
"t's Cyrillic." Samar sounded hesitant.
Aram gasped softly. "It's ancient Cyrillic. It looks like some sort of equation. "P" equals 100. "O" that sort of looks like a ribbon equals 9. Those dash symbols in between denotes that the number to the right should be multiplied by 1,000." There was a pause. "It totals 109,120."
"Probably a measurement. Is there a standard form?" Samar questioned as Lizzie and Ressler patiently waited for the two to figure it out.
"Cubits. Uh, one cubit is half a yard. 109,120 cubits is 54,560 yards." There was a pause. "What? I was good at math." Judging by his defensive tone, Samar had given Aram the same amused and impressed look that Lizzie and Ressler had just shared.
Lizzie's attention was brought back to the image of the inscription. "There's another engraving here. Looks like, what, a moon?"
"Or a sun, which rises in the east." Samar reasoned.
"The strain's final resting place." Lizzie stated ominously.
"54,560 yards. Or exactly 31 miles." Aram announced.
"Hello, Aram. Agent Navabi. You certainly look radiant." Red's voice suddenly came over the phone.
"Mr. Reddington. Um. Hey, uh If you're looking for, uh, A-Agent Keen –" Aram stuttered.
"I'm not. I'm looking for you." Red's tone brooked no argument.
"Aram, are you there? What is it? What's 31 miles east of Burial Ridge? Is that Reddington? What's he doing there?" Lizzie fired off her questions. However, the only answer she received was a dial tone.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"This is the oldest church in the city. The graves in the church, they're sacrosanct." The priest argued indignantly as he led Lizzie and Ressler down into the crypts.
Ressler paused, causing both Lizzie and the priest to look back at him. They turned to look at what he was staring at and found a gated entrance to another hallway with its locks broken.
"Is there another way in here?" Lizzie questioned softly.
"The southeast stairwell, behind the –"
"Show me." Lizzie ordered and Ressler subsequently split up with them, heading down another hall.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Aram stared at Red as if he were a tad crazy. "You want me to find a girl. You can't tell me her name, and none of the other people who work for you were able to find her."
"Yes." Red stated simply, his voice deep with the gravity of the situation.
Aram shook his head slowly. "That's not much to go on."
"It's not."
"Out of curiosity, the other people who couldn't find her, this girl, um – W-what What did you do to them?" Aram stuttered, his eyes shifting around them as if searching for the nearest person who can come to his rescue.
Red stared at Aram for a moment, the tic under his eye twitching. "Aram, this woman is critical in my war with Berlin." He stated gravely.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Ahead of her, Lizzie could see a person in a hazmat suit. She quickly motioned for the priest to turn back to safety.
"FBI! Don't move!" She yelled, drawing her firearm.
The person in the suit slowly turned around, holding two bags which clinked as he moved. "You know what I have in here. You wouldn't be here if you didn't."
Lizzie stared into the face of Maddox Beck, her hand steady as she aimed it at his chest. "Put it down."
"It's incredible, isn't it?" Beck murmured calmly. "Finding America a century before Columbus, surviving, protecting the secret. His life had one purpose. The plague."
Lizzie gulped. Sammy. "You're not walking out of here." She was rather proud of how steady her voice sounded.
Beck smirked at her. "Do you know how contagious this is? Shoot me, I drop it, and then we're both infected."
Oh god. Sammy. "I said put it down." This time her voice did waver, as did her hand. Her second day back. Her second day back from maternity leave and she had to deal with a damn plague. Sammy.
"Either you let me go, or we both die." Maddox held the bags aloft, as if to drop them. "The choice is yours… You're just like everybody else. You're gonna save your life at the expense of millions of others."
"Is that why you killed your wife?" Lizzie questioned harshly, trying to deflect.
Beck's face pinched in anger. "Carrie Ann killed herself. She wasn't able to go through with it, but somebody needs to have the courage to do what's necessary."
Beck sprang into action, knocking Lizzie aside and causing her to hit her head against the stone wall. Falling to the ground, Lizzie groaned, clutching her head as it throbbed painfully as Beck ran away. She tried to get up but dizziness seized her, causing her to collapse again.
"Ressler!" She called out. Within moments, Ressler was running towards her and she quickly put up her hand to tell him to stop. "They have it." She groaned. "It's gone. The plague, it's gone." She said sorrowfully, breathing heavily in an attempt to not allow her breakfast to reappear.
/\/\/\/\/\
"Call state and local police. Tell them we want lookouts and checkpoints at every highway leading out of the city. Find Maddox Beck!" Cooper ordered, pointing to those he wished to do his bidding.
Lizzie watched, her lips pursed, as Samar stomped up to her. "You had him." Samar accused.
"He was in possession of the strain." Lizzie snapped.
Samar rolled her eyes. "Did you hesitate or not?"
"He threatened to release it." Lizzie bit out.
"And now a mad man is out there with the ability to start a pandemic." Samar stated cattily.
"Enough." Cooper barked. "If it's the pneumonic plague, there are antibiotics, protocols."
Samar tsked, and shook her head, not taking her eyes off Liz. "For the strain that exists today, not the one that's 700 years old. We have to assume that there is no cure for whatever Beck got his hands on."
"I said that's enough." Cooper shouted shortly.
Samar shook her head. "This is unbelievable." She muttered before storming off.
Cooper watched her go, his lips thinned. "Alert the CDC." Cooper nodded sharply at Aram. "Tell them that a potential category 5 threat has just been identified with no cure and a high probability of exposure."
As the war room cleared out, everyone off to do their job, Lizzie began to make her way to her office when she heard someone calling her name.
"Agent Keen." Aram hurried over to her and gently took her arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Whatever decision you made, I'm sure it was the right one. I've seen you under pressure in the moment."
Liz smiled sadly at the gentle man. "Thank you." She murmured, though she didn't believe it.
"I mean it." Aram insisted. "The way you handle – take Mr. Reddington, for example. He asked me to do one thing, and I freeze up, – but you're always able to –"
"What?" Lizzie interrupted sharply. "What? What are you talking about?"
Realizing his error, Aram's mouth turned into an O and his eyes widened. "Oh, wait. Uh, no, just, um. You're solid."
"Reddington asked you to do – ?" Lizzie tried to lead Aram into spilling.
Aram shook his head vigorously. "No, forget that. Bad example."
"What did Reddington ask you to do?" Lizzie questioned darkly.
"Um – "
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"You made me promise not to go looking for her and then what do you do? You turn around and go looking for her!" Lizzie shouted, walking into the dining room of her father's current safe house.
"Oh, dear." Red sighed, standing up as he folded his newspaper. "Lizzie – "
"The FBI is not in the business of handling your personal affairs." Lizzie cut in.
Red laughed, tossing his head back. "The FBI is in the business of my business. Why else would I be in business with the FBI? Our family is the FBI's business!"
Lizzie bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head. "If she is in danger, we will protect her."
Red sighed. "Who told you it was Jennifer I am searching for?"
Lizzie stepped closer to him. "You should have told me if you were going to search for her. She's my sister!"
"You just upended your ex-wife's entire life. I'm not gonna let you do the same thing to her." Lizzie ignored the part of her that said the woman's life would be upended if either of them tried to find her. She had a tendency to hit below the belt when arguing.
Red merely raised a brow. "As a rule, I consider jealousy to be a base emotion. But in this case, it's quite endearing."
Lizzie sighed, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling in search of some strength. "Oh, God. I am not jealous."
"I assure you, Lizzie, my quest to find this young woman will in no way compromise our relationship." Red placated.
Lizzie rolled her eyes, looking back over at her dad. "Very funny." She murmured before stepping in front of him and wrapping her arms around her dad's waist and laying her head on his shoulder. "Sorry." She murmured.
Red hummed and kissed the top of her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. However, I promise you, I am not looking for Jennifer."
Lizzie merely nodded and they both stepped away from each other.
"Where's Sam?" Lizzie questioned, knowing her dad had most likely taken her son out of daycare since he didn't seem to have any business to tend to. She was beginning to think enrolling him in daycare was pointless to start with.
Red chuckled and beckoned with a finger as he walked into the living room. Smiling, Lizzie followed after him and stopped short, a giggle immediately bursting from her lips.
"That has got to be the most adorable thing I've ever seen." Lizzie breathed.
Red chuckled, nodding his head in agreement as he stared at the sight of Dembe laying on the floor asleep with his head laying atop Sam's little rainforest play mat, a stuffed monkey hanging over his head. The tooth achingly cute part was Sammy cuddled up to Dembe's bald head, his chubby fingers resting on the man's forehead as the baby's chest rose and fell with the deep, steady breaths of sleep.
"Tell me you got pictures." She murmured.
Red snorted. "Between Dembe and I, we go through an entire SIM card every week. This little moment took up half of one."
Lizzie chortled though failed to mention that she and Don were guilty of the same.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Unconfirmed reports indicate hundreds have been infected as a result of the outbreak. The Capitol and the Supreme Court have been evacuated. Metro police have quarantined a 15-block area, reaching from Constitution to Pennsylvania Avenue."
Lizzie muted the t.v., silencing the news report. Turning to everyone else in the war room, she took a deep breath. "Patient Zero has been I.D.'d as Sharon McManus. Prelim autopsy confirms we are dealing with a genetically modified strain of pneumonic plague."
Cooper folded his arms over his chest. "Modified how?"
Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. "We have no idea, but it is working at an accelerated rate."
Ressler looked up at the screen where the news was showing images of the quarantine zone – people walking around inside of a fenced area with medical masks over their face. "People in the quarantine, none of them look sick yet."
"From what the CDC can tell, the contagion works in three phases, the first of which is incubation." Lizzie explained. "Right now, it is dormant in their immune systems. It is not airborne yet, but that is only going to last for the first few hours."
"Then what?" Cooper questioned.
"It turns the victim symptomatic, then infectious. Based on what we can tell from the time of death and the rapid depletion of Patient Zero's target cells, those healthy-looking people will be dead in nine hours." Lizzie stated
"How many people are we talking about?"
Ressler cleared his throat. "Roughly 2,300 in quarantine, sir."
Cooper pursed his lips. "Talk to me about the treatment protocols."
"There are none." Samar stated succinctly. "In order to understand how the disease was altered, to find a cure, we need a sample of the original strain."
"And Beck has the only one." Ressler stated, finishing Samar's thought.
"Hey. Full ERT report on Patient Zero's effects just came in." Aram walked over, waving a sheaf of paper above his head. "They found this on the victim's shirt hair from a rodent, a rat species specifically bred for scientific purposes. Rattus norvegicus. There are only two licensed suppliers for clinical trials. And in the last month, they've only had one shipment that didn't go to a university or research facility."
"You got Beck's shipping address." Ressler stated, a small smirk on his face.
Aram smiled at the clear appreciation in Ressler's voice. "Two story property in Thurmont."
"Send the Biohazard team at Quantico." Cooper ordered.
/\/\/\/\/\
Minutes later, having sent off the team just as Cooper asked, Don and Lizzie walked into their office. Don followed Lizzie over to her desk and sat on the edge, next to her chair which she proceeded to flop into.
"Hey, what's up?" Don asked in a low murmur.
Lizzie blew out a harsh breath, causing the hair that had fallen into her face to flutter. "I screwed up, Don." She muttered, ashamed. "I should have taken the shot when I had the chance. Samar's right. Those people in quarantine are there because of me!" Lizzie bit her lip in an attempt to stem the flow of tears.
"Hey, the fact that you didn't means that Sammy still has his mom." Don consoled.
Lizzie snorted. "Funny, that's exactly what was going through my mind. I couldn't leave Sammy. I had to survive for my baby." Lizzie shook her head. "I can't think like that and do my job."
Don was silent for a moment before scooting closer to her and taking her hand. "Listen, I'm not gonna say that you made the best decision in the world." Lizzie winced at Don's tough love.
"But I will say that I am so damn grateful you're alive right now." Don squeezed her hand. "And I'm pretty sure that if spit bubbles weren't the epitome of Sam's vocabulary, he'd be telling you the same thing."
Lizzie laughed wetly before nodding her head.
/\/\/\/\/\
Red looked down at his phone and signed recognizing the number calling.
"I need you to come in. I found your girl." Glen's voice came across the line.
/\/\/\/\/\
Red attempted to block out the sound of children yelling, men and women shouting on their phones and another joe schmo banging away at the broken vending machine.
"Number 84."
"Thank god." He murmured as he stood and palmed his fedora.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"The picture you gave me, the one of the girl I had it aged up in the system and marked as an FBI inquiry five weeks ago." Glen jumped straight into his diatribe as soon as Red closed the door.
"The vending machine is still not working." Red intoned as he sat down with a sigh.
"Then Dolly goes in for hair plugs. She's the only one in the Southwest Service Center with access, so I'm frozen out."
"The woman grading the written tests needs to shower."
"But this morning, Dolly comes back, and guess what. Old Dolly got a hit a 97% match on your girl." Glen slaps a folder down on the desk victoriously and Red quickly reaches out and grabs it.
Quickly flipping the file open, he read the small report. "Zoe Dantonio." He murmured.
"As I said, these things take time." At the sound of a loud bang, Glen looked out the window of his office that faced the DMV waiting room. "What the hell is that?"
Red stood up and smiled benignly. "It's a new vending machine. Yours is broken. Consider it a bonus." He stated as he walked out of the room.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Site's decontaminated. The equipment looks like it's been used recently." Ressler said as he and Liz walked into the lab located at the address Aram had found.
Lizzie's eyes fell to a map that hung on the wall with red pins stuck on large cities all over the world. "My God. D.C. was just the beginning." She muttered in horror. Lizzie spun on her heel to face Ressler. "They're gonna be on planes." Lizzie fumbled with her phone and quickly dialed a number she now knew by heart. "Aram, get me the FAA."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"CDC quarantined a vehicle found at Dulles." Samar reported to the gathered group back at the Post Office. "There was an inhaler mask discovered outside of the car. We won't have the official results for a few hours, but the toxins inside appear to match those found in Beck's lab."
"Vehicle's owner was one Ron Crocker, boarded a plane to Panama City two hours ago." Aram stated, not looking up from his computer screen as he typed furiously.
"Every passenger on that flight will be infected." Lizzie stated the obvious, her heart clenching in guilt.
"We have Crocker's travel profile?" Cooper questioned, looking to Aram.
"Yeah." More furious typing. "Okay. Uh, one-way ticket, traveling alone, no checked baggage. Ticket purchased within the last eight hours."
"Can you apply the same criteria to passengers on flights from Dulles to the other target cities?" Ressler suggested.
"Every matching profile is a potential follower infected with the plague." Lizzie added.
"Okay, 31 matches. Of those, seven are business travelers who made last-minute reservations using corporate cards." Aram stated, quickly bringing up pictures of all of the possible suspects.
"Are they already in flight?" Cooper asked.
"All but one, Chris Perez." Aram zoomed in on the man's photo. "Leaves Dulles for Toronto within one hour."
"Probably still in the incubation period." Ressler muttered, staring up at the screen.
"We can take him down, isolate him before he boards."
"You work with Aram. Notify the FAA of those infected flights." Cooper stated, pointing to Ressler. "You get to Dulles, make sure Perez does not get on that flight." Cooper ordered, looking between Lizzie and Samar.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Coming through! Make way! Federal agents coming through!" Lizzie shouted as she and Samar, flanked by police officers and TSA Agents ran through the airport terminal.
"Stand aside, please! Coming through here! Federal agents!" Samar shouted.
When they reached the gate Perez was supposed to be boarding at, Lizzie and Samar looked around desperately. "He's not at the gate. Aram, you got eyes?" Lizzie spoke into her comm.
"Looking. Looking now."
Lizzie looked over at Samar. "I'm gonna double back."
"Okay." Samar agreed. "Come on." She ordered the officers who hadn't followed after Lizzie.
Ressler's voice came over the comm, clearly speaking to Aram. "Go back. There."
Aram made a small excited noise. "That's him. There he is. A black jacket with a gray hoodie, a green shoulder bag. Near gate C-13."
At this, Lizzie turns on her heel and begins running back towards Samar. As the officers with her quickly began to huff and fall back, she sent up silent thanks to her recent exercise regime.
As Lizzie approaches, she sees Samar on the ground, struggling with Perez. Lizzie swore under her breath. She was still too far to take the chance of taking down Perez. There were too many civilians in the way.
The man brought one hand up towards Samar's face and sprays something before punching her in the face. As she lay dazed for the moment, Perez reached for Samar's gun and shot her in the stomach. At that moment, Lizzie aimed her gun and fired, hitting Perez in the back of the head.
The gun shots had panicked the other travelers and Lizzie could hear pandemonium break out around her though she tried to ignore it in favor of getting to Samar. As he flopped over, Lizzie ran towards Samar. But before she could enter, Samar sat up, crying out as she hurried to slam the door shut. Grunting, Samar looked up at Lizzie desperately.
"Officer down! I need a medic!" Lizzie screamed into her comm and began pushing at the door.
Samar braced her feet on the floor, shoving her weight into the door to bar Liz from entering. "You can't come in here!"
"Samar, you're gonna bleed out!" Lizzie yelled through the glass. "You've got to open this door!"
"I'm infected. If you come in here, you will be, too."
Lizzie took a deep breath, her lips thinning in determination. Noticing this, Samar sighed, wincing as she moved out of the way and Lizzie quickly took advantage, opening the door just wide enough for her to get through before slamming it shut again.
Sliding down to sit next to Samar, Lizzie quickly shrugged off her jacket and pressed it to Samar's gunshot wound, causing the other woman to gasp at the pain.
"You'll be okay." She murmured.
Samar's only response was to groan.
"Shh, shh."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Eighteen of the flights are now in quarantine and the suspects have been arrested." Ressler spouted off as he paced the width of the war room, trying not to think about Liz and failing miserably.
"The others." Cooper's question was framed as more of a demand.
"Diverted with military escorts." Ressler intoned, distracted.
"What about the infected?" Cooper paused, hesitant. "Liz and Samar. How much time do they have?"
Ressler winced and gnawed his lip between his teeth. "Worst-case scenario, eight hours." He muttered darkly.
Aram looked up from his desk, having been absorbed in what he had been doing. "I was able to trace a credit card tied to the plane tickets Beck purchased, but he created a VPN. The computer he used accessed the Internet within a 50-mile radius of Abingdon."
Cooper nodded decisively. "Get our people in Virginia the coordinates have them start a canvas. And the radius. Narrow it down." He ordered before quickly walking off.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Looking down at his phone, Red sighed before quickly answering as he gazed out of his car window.
" … Mr. Reddington, I-I'm calling about Agent Keen." Aram's voice immediately drifted into his ear.
"Circumstances have changed, Aram. I found what I was looking for."
"You have? I mean, uh, you have. That's so – That's fantastic. But, uh, that's actually – That's not why I'm calling." Aram hesitated. "Uh, Agent Keen, she and Agent Navabi, they've been infected."
The tick under Red's left eye began rapid fire as he sat up in his seat, his heart dropping into his stomach. "When?" He demanded gruffly.
"Just over an hour ago."
Red bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes unable to focus on anything and darting about the car. "Where are you on Beck?"
"He's somewhere outside Abingdon, but I don't know where. I've searched the public record. Uh, tax bills, power, phone. It's like – It's like he lives off the grid."
"Well, there you have it." Red murmured before hanging up.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"You shouldn't have – " Samar winced as she shifted, jarring her wound. "– have come in here."
"I couldn't leave you to bleed out." Lizzie reasoned.
"You have a son."
Lizzie's face contorted with distress. "I know."
"So why did you?" Samar asked, gazing up at her from her slouched position.
Lizzie sighed, shaking her head tiredly as she leaned against the glass. "Because… sometimes there are things out of our control that are bigger than all of us." Lizzie paused. "And because you needed me to."
Samar nodded awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the way the conversation panned out.
"You know everyone talks about it, right? They don't want to bring it up with you. Why you? Who is he to you?"
Lizzie inhaled sharply. Only Don and Cooper knew about her relationship to Red. Only they knew she wasn't actually an agent anymore. "Reddington is…the bane of my existence." Lizzie muttered, thinking fast. "The man comes into my life, tramples over everything… and yet." Lizzie sighed again. "He does so in some terribly misguided attempt to protect me. But refuses to tell me why I'm so damn important." Lizzie hoped her ire appeared genuine. She just had to tap into all the idiotic things her dad had actually done in the past in the name of protecting her. There was plenty of material there.
A tired "Mm" was Samar's only reply.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Pepper, what's –"
Red and Dembe came around the tree he'd been hiding behind and chuckled. "You two out here playing grab-ass in the woods just smacks of something biblical."
Beck stepped away from his girlfriend who was laying on the ground, hog tied and gagged. "Who the hell are you?"
Red smirked darkly. "I'm the snake in the grass. I was a big fan of yours at one time. I remember you in that little, inflatable boat in the North Sea, going up against that oil platform, huge waves tossing you up against the pilings, fire hoses and steel oil drums raining down from above." Red rocked back on his heels. "My God, it gives me goose bumps just thinking about it. Then I had the good fortune of sharing a cell in a prison outside Sochi with an associate of yours, Yevgeny Bushkin. Big bear of a man, 150 kilos on an empty belly. As I remember it, Yevgeny went on hunger strike to protest some oil pipeline that threatened a vital something-or-other. You probably remember better than I. But the point is the old boy didn't eat for 74 days. Imagine that. I wouldn't have the discipline."
Red shook his head then looked over at Pepper. "My weakness is sausage and peppers. But Yevgeny – He did it. Wasted away like Christ on the cross, dying for a cause. Your cause." Red pointed to Beck with his gun. "And I remember thinking that the only men I've known that have people who are willing to die for their cause are either saints or megalomaniacs. And you. Are no Saint. Which is why I'm not surprised to find you and Pepper waiting out Armageddon here in Eden. You and I both know you're not gonna die for your cause."
Dembe brought his hands out from behind his back and quickly opened the small case he'd been holding – a case full of vials with the antidote.
Beck's eyes widened and he started towards them. "Put that down!"
Red laughed, shaking his head at the man's idiocy as he trained his gun on him. "You dig up a plague, hatch a plan to spread it around the world, but before you do, you synthesize a cure. For yourself and your Eve." Red gestured vaguely towards Pepper. "Ironic, isn't it. If you were half as dedicated to your cause as Yevgeny was, there would be no vaccine, I wouldn't be here, and you and Pepper would be free to romp like bunnies until the convulsing and hemorrhaging started."
"You're wrong." Beck spat out, indignant. "My actions are about our crimes against the earth."
"I'll be frank, Mr. Beck, because I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'm not here for you." Red turned to Pepper and looked down at her. "I think you know what I'm about to ask for."
Beck looked between Red and his girlfriend. "What's he talking about?"
Red looked at Pepper with mock shock. "You never told him?"
"Told me what?"
Red ignored Beck and gazed steadily at Pepper before stepping towards her. "Where is it?" His voice deepened threateningly as he non-too-gently ripped the gag out of her mouth.
"Please. don't." Pepper whimpered.
"Never told me what?" Beck's voice rose with frustration.
Red raised his brow impatiently. "We don't have much time."
Pepper hesitated a moment before looking up towards the colorful glass bottles which hung on the tree above them.
Red laughed and walked over towards where her line of sight lined up, squinting as he looked in the nearby glasses. "Ah. He murmured with a sigh before plucking one of the bottles down and upending it. With a small clink, a small key fell out which he quickly deposited into his pocket. "My business is finished here. I'll leave the two of you. I'm sure you have plenty to discuss." He murmured, setting his gun down on a nearby bench.
As Red walked away, sirens sounded in the distance, only momentarily drowned out by two distinct pops of gunshots.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Red stood outside his car, just around the corner but still within the line of sight of the food truck he'd been watching for the last few minutes. He watched as a beautiful young woman hopped out of the truck, a full garbage bag in her hands as she headed towards the dumpster.
"Raymond, we should go." Dembe's solemn voice interrupted Red's thoughts, causing the man to startle ever so slightly. Nodding, Red opened the door to the backseat of the car and climbed in.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Red sat at Lizzie's hospital bed, his face pained. It was just he and Lizzie – Dembe was at Lizzie's, watching over Sammy.
She was going to be fine – she was sleeping at the moment – but she'd gotten the antidote and the doctors felt that as long as nothing unexpected occurs, she should be able to leave in the morning. She was fine. But dammit if guilt didn't gnaw at the very fiber of his being.
Reaching out, Red took his daughter's hand in his own and kissed her knuckles gently. "I'm so sorry Sweetheart." He murmured. The sudden bang of the hospital room door opening, caused Red to shoot up in his seat, drawing his weapon.
Letting out a breath as Donald came blustering in, he quickly holstered the weapon. "If you wouldn't mind, Lizzie –"
"You son of a bitch!" Donald raged, pointing his finger accusingly at Red. "She almost died today! The day she comes back from maternity leave, you give us a case that exposes her to the pneumonic plague!" Donald shouted.
"If you would stop shouting, Agent Ressler – "
"No! Someone has to say it!" Donald stood with one hand on his hip as he combed the other through his hair in aggravation. "You're a shit father and a shit grandfather! Who the fuck does this to their own kid?"
Donald's accusations stung and hit rather close to home on his line of thinking before the man had stormed into the room. But Red wasn't going to tell him that, so he merely gazed at the other man placidly.
"And you!" Don started, pointing his finger at Lizzie whose eyes were fluttering open as all the racket wakened her. "What the hell were you thinking? You didn't have to go in there!"
"I was doing my job." Lizzie murmured before clearing her throat of any dryness.
"No you weren't! It's not your job anymore! You're not an agent! You're a fucking asset!" Don spat as if the term was offensive to him.
Red stood abruptly, his chair skidding across the floor loudly. Just as he was about to have at the little shit, Lizzie's cold voice cut in.
"Get out." Her voice whipped through the air and Donald started as if they had physically hit him, his eyes widening in growing horror.
"Liz, I didn't…I'm –"
"I said get out." Lizzie said forcefully, her face a mask of thunder.
When Don made no move to leave but rather just stood there, staring at Lizzie like a kicked puppy, Red cleared his throat, his own face rather murderous. "I believe my daughter told you to leave."
Donald swallowed heavily and looked to Lizzie, his eyes rounded, his hands out in supplication. "Liz, I didn't mean –"
"I won't repeat myself again, Agent Ressler." Lizzie stated coldly, her heart constricting for a moment with guilt as Don flinched as if in physical pain as she used his title.
After a tense moment, Don nodded dejectedly and turned around, quickly exiting the room with his head down.
