Alright, I'm not sure about this chapter. I did a bit of jumping around the Kenyon Family and Deer Hunter episodes. The cases themselves are just filler to allow for the scenes that actually fuel the larger plot arc. So yea, here it is. Not sure if I'm happy with the product but man I do love some adorable Red and Sammy moments. Reviews fuel me.


Don shut and locked the front door behind him and gave a tired sigh. He was finally home. Though the thought gave him little comfort. Liz had gone home as soon as they landed and left him to do the paperwork while she came home to Sammy, giving Ezra a break from his newfound nanny duties. When she'd left though, she'd left things unchanged between them. Don was unsure of his welcome.

He hesitantly walked into the living room to see Lizzie on the floor playing with Sammy. Lizzie was looking at him from the corner of her eye but most of her attention remained on Sammy.

"Uh… hey." Don said softly.

At the sound of his voice, Sammy's head whipped around and he gave a happy squeal. "Dada!"

Don choked on a sudden bout of tears as Sammy got onto all fours and raced over to him as fast as his little hands and knees could carry him. "Hey little buddy!" Don greeted as he crouched down and picked up Sammy – his son, holding him close as he gave him a reverent kiss on the forehead. It was the first time Sammy had called him 'dada' and the moment could not have been more bittersweet.

As Sammy chattered away to him in his baby talk, probably telling him all about his time with Uncle Ezra, Don looked over to Liz to see her watching them intently with glassy eyes.

Don swallowed heavily. "Listen, I think we need to talk – I want us to talk. But I think it's someone's bedtime. If you don't mind, I'm gonna put him down before we talk."

Lizzie merely nodded as she leant against the sofa from where she continued to sit on the floor.

/\/\/\/\

Once Sammy was down and out like a light, Don came quietly down the steps and into the living room. Liz was now sitting on the couch, her hands in her lap as she nervously stroked the scar on her palm.

"Hey." Don murmured stupidly as he sat down beside her.

Lizzie gave a small snort of amusement. "Hey."

There was an awkward silence as neither knew how to start.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

Well apparently they both thought that was the perfect way to start.

They both gave a small chuckle.

"No but seriously Liz. I'm sorry – "

"Don, stop." Lizzie interrupted. "I'm the one who should be apologizing." She hesitated. "I forget sometimes that this whole situation is…new for you. And it's going to take some adjustment. I get that." Liz paused, biting her lip. "Well, I'm trying to get that anyway." She corrected. "I just…I've basically spent my entire life preparing for this. My dad and I knew that this was pretty much inevitable. And well, that fact has sort of shaped me, shaped who I am as a person." Lizzie looked down at her hands. "But you've known about this whole thing for about a year now and I get that it's a huge priority shift for you." Lizzie looked back at Don, her face earnest and sad. "And I understand if you can't handle that shift. If you want to – "

"Shut up." Don interrupted.

Lizzie reared back slightly, her eyes widening in shock. "What?"

Don shook his head in fond exasperation. "I know what you're about to say. So shut up. I'm not going anywhere. This is exactly where I need – where I want to be." Don smiled softly. "Your dad gave me a bit of a talking to while you were asleep on the plane. Gave me a bit to think about." Don gave her a small smirk. "But don't tell him I said that. His ego is big enough without anyone telling him he was right." He teased, causing Lizzie to snort.

"But what he made me realize is, family comes first." At Lizzie's raised brow at the obviousness of the statement, Don continued. "I mean, he said that you were his moral code. That everything he does is to keep you safe." Lizzie smiled warmly at this.

"And I get it. You and Sammy…I would do anything to keep you two safe. You're my family. If that means taking down a shady power hungry cult with any means necessary, then lets do it." Don reached over and took Liz's hand. "But I can't promise I won't have more crisis of conscious. I'll do what it takes, but it's not going to be easy and I'm probably not going to like it." Raising her hand to his lips, Don pressed a feather-light kiss to her knuckles. "And I know you well enough to know that even though you have had a lifetime to prepare for this and that some of this stuff is gonna be easier for you to handle, I know that doesn't mean you don't care. You're not a bad person, Liz. I'm sorry if I ever made you think I didn't know that."

Lizzie sprang forward, wrapping her arms around Don's neck and Don got only a quick glimpse of the tears running down her cheeks before they were enfolded in each other's arms.

/\/\/\/\/\

Glen sat back in his office chair, the hinges creaking as he rocked it back and forth as he cackled. "Not interested. Can't be done."

Red shook his head. "Glen, you have found things for me with far less to go on."

"Ernie's retirement party's tonight." Glen continued as if he hadn't heard Red. "I got to pick up the shrimp platter."

"You found Jerry Minkie's wife after she ran off with the uber driver, the one with the Subaru." Red cajoled, gesturing excitedly with his hand.

"I don't even like shrimp." Glen muttered.

"You found, uh, the other guy – who was that? – That mobster who was hiding out in Needles. Glen, look, you and I we've had our differences, but I have enormous respect for your abilities. You know that." Red stated desperately. "If anyone can help me, it's you."

"It's not the shrimp. It's the dip, that sauce. I don't like sauces."

Red rolled his tongue "You know what?" Red muttered, getting up from his seat and palming his fedora. "Forget it. I don't need this."

Glen stood up from his chair, his arms raised at his side. "What are you so upset about?"

"There isn't a retirement party, is there?!" Red yelled, spinning on his heels. "You're making it up! That's what this is about! This is what you want– to see me get all lathered up!" Red gestured to himself as if to showcase an actual lather. "You're pathological. You realize that, right? Ernie's shrimp platter?! You can't be serious! Do you even see the irony in that?" Red waved his arm at Glen, pointing out the man's short stature.

Glen merely smiled at him, clearly enjoying this, causing Red to groan in agitation.

Knowing when to push Red's buttons and when to cool it had become an art form for Glen. With a small sigh, he sat back down. "Tell me about the safe."

Red shook his head, his lips pursed. "Glen, I'm upset!"

"Your spook friend – he said it was critical."

Red sighed before falling back into his seat. "As I've already told you, he said there is a safe in St. Petersburg on the second floor of I don't know where – a bank, an apartment. He died before he could tell me more."

Glen nodded and leaned forward to grab a pencil and a pad of post-its. "The spook – What was his name?"

"Alan Fitch." Red said succinctly, his mouth biting at the consonants in his aggravation.

"Alan … " Glen murmured as he wrote before pausing and looking up at Red over the rim of his glasses in a clear question to have him repeat himself.

"Fitch!"

/\/\/\/\/\

Red shook his head. "I am not taking you to St. Petersburg."

"You are if you want to know where the safe is." Glen stated with a shrug.

Red leaned forward in his chair in Glen's stupid office at the god forsaken DMV. "How do I even know you've found it?"

Glen smirked at him. "You don't. But I got two weeks of vacation I got to take before the end of the year or I lose it."

"It's February!" Red barked.

"We could take your jet, have a few laughs on the way, some of those nuts – the honey-roasted ones."

"I want what I paid for – the location of the safe." Red stated darkly.

Glen sighed and leaned forward. "Can I be honest with you?"

"I doubt it." Red scoffed.

"I've never been out of the country. My dad, our vacations as a kid, we drove everywhere – South Dakota, Florida. But you – I look at you and all the places you go and I'd just like to do that once. Plus, I think it'd be fun. I feel like we might have a good time."

Red looked at the poor shrimp of a man, his gaze turning from annoyance to pity. He sat back in his chair with a small sigh and waved his hand in acquiescence.

Glen scoffed and sprang out of his seat. "I'm screwing with you! I was born in London, but I've never been on a private jet." Glen cleared his throat as he began shuffling papers and throwing them into his suitcase. "Anyway, I clock out at 5:30. I'll need to stop by the house, grab a shower, feed the turtle. I can have a bag packed and be wheels up by 9:00."

Red stared at Glen, his eyes wide in horror as he contemplated the logistics of wrapping his hands around the short man's stump of a neck.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Kenyon's unaccounted for. … Slaughtered. … No sign of him."

Red sighed, his latest burner phone pressed to his ear as he discussed the latest Blacklister with Lizzie from the rather uncomfortable chair in an apartment that looked like it hadn't been decorated since the 80's. Seeing as how he was in St. Petersburg, that may very well be the case. Communism tends to put rather a dampener on cultural progression.

"That's puzzling." Red murmured.

"It appears all the adults were murdered and the children are gone."

Red shook his head. "Kenyon's ideology has always been about vanquishing the infidels and rising to power, not about killing their own. This is a group of survivalists."

"They might have been attacked by a rival militia. We found a number of dead bodies surrounding the perimeter."

"And the storage containers?"

"Located, secured, and searched – about a dozen of them so far. They've been pretty much cleaned out – no weapons, no ordnance. According to an inventory list, we're missing small arms, RPGs, three Hellfire missiles, plus over a ton of Semtex, C4, Demex, and plastite."

Red looked towards the sound of shattering glass where one of his men who had been searching the apartment had accidently bumped into a side table.

"What was that?" Lizzie questioned, having clearly heard the crash.

"That was a vase." Red murmured dispassionately. "What about the vehicles?"

"All the church's vehicles are accounted for, except for one."

"Another bomb." Red said darkly. "Something's gone sideways, Lizzy. Kenyon is the devil we know, but now either others are involved or there's been a complete breakdown in the organization. Either way, be careful out there."

Red quickly hung up at the sound of the toilet flushing. He stood up as Glen came back into the living room, still cinching his belt.

"You're sure this is the apartment?"

"This is the apartment." Glen said in what he obviously hoped was a convincing tone. It wasn't.

"You're positive?"

"Your tone is insulting." Glen huffed.

"My tone?!" Red shouted. "I endured 13 hours with you on my jet, 12 of which you had your shoes off. You snored. You insulted my flight attendant!"

"I thought she was pregnant."

"Glen, the safe!" Red yelled, trying to bring the conversation back around to the task at hand before Glen went off on one of his tangential tall tales. "We haven't found it yet, have we?!"

"I know everything one can possibly know about Alan Fitch." Glen bit out. "I worked on this 'round the clock, and you know how irritable I can be if I don't get my 10 hours. I've reviewed six years of bank records, and I traced the cash payment he made to purchase an apartment in this very building on this very floor. Trust me, the safe is here."

"I don't trust you."

Glen stared at Red for a moment before walking over to the coffee table. He opened up the brief case he'd brought with them and picked up a piece of paper with a flourish.

"What the hell is this?" Red questioned, snatching the paper out of Glen's hands.

"The title to apartment 221. Apology accepted."

Red stared at Glen, the tick under his eye going full force as his eyes blazed with murder.

"What?" Glen questioned.

"We're in apartment 212."

/\/\/\/\/\

"You don't know the cross that I bear, the things I've had to overcome – my dyslexia."

"You're not dyslexic!" Red turned from the wall where he'd been tapping with his knuckles, trying to find a hollow spot.

"Raymond." Dembe's voice drew Red over to stand next to him, in front of a rather terrible painting of a Victorian woman.

"Oh, really, 'doctor?' Is that your professional opinion? Forgot to pack my medication. I was shocked when you told me I could come along. It threw me. I left my dyslexia pills on the counter."

Red turned away as Dembe took the painting down, revealing a safe. "There are no pills for dyslexia!" He shouted, forcing Glen to shut his mouth and stare at the floor in embarrassment.

Red quickly turned the dial of the safe, using the code that Fitch had given him just before he died. Once it was open, Red reached in and withdrew the only thing that was in there – a business card with a phone number on it. Turning to Dembe, he handed the card to him. "Get this to Sorenson for a trace on the number."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red sat back and practically melted into the leather of the car's backseat as he closed his eyes with a weary sigh. They'd just left Lizzie and Don's home after a lovely visit. He hadn't had an opportunity to see Sammy since he'd gotten back from St. Petersburg and he wanted to check up on the state of affairs between Lizzie and Donald. Everything seemed put back to rights – whether that had happened before they were kidnapped by the little cult of Kenyon boys or after remained to be seen but the end product was the same, that's what mattered. His little girl was safe and happy.

Though his eyes were closed, Red sensed a shift in the shadows of the car behind his eyelids and peaked one eye open. He was met with a view of Dembe outstretching his arm awkwardly from the driver's seat, trying to hand him a burner phone.

"The number from the safe traces to a blind exchange. We can't identify the party you'll be speaking to."

Red paused a moment, gazing at the blue luminescent screen of the archaic flip phone. With a fortifying breath, Red quickly dialed the number from the business card and hit the green button.

Just as Red began to fear that the call would go unanswered, he could here the distinctive click of the line being picked up.

"Yes.' A gruff voice answered.

Red cleared his throat, realizing he had no idea what to say. It was as if everything he'd been doing for the last 25 years had led to this moment and he had no idea what to say. "I'm calling on behalf of Alan Fitch…"

"The safe. You found the safe?" The man on the other line questioned urgently.

Red pulled the phone away from his air to give it a quizzical look before placing it back against his head. "Who the hell is this?"

/\/\/\/\/\

"Agent Scott."

Lizzie tried not to huff at the sound of Cooper's voice on the other end of her phone. Really she did. But he was calling her and it was her day off. She was allowed to be a little grumpy, right?

Lizzie hoisted Sammy higher on her hip and held her head away from him as he made a grab for the phone. "Hello sir."

"I was wondering if you could come in, Agent Scott. There's something that needs to be discussed."

Lizzie couldn't hold back a sigh as she looked down at Sammy. "Sir, I have Sammy – "

"Bring him. I'd love to see the little guy and this won't end with you chasing down a suspect. I promise."

Her boss was attempting a light hearted tone but there was something there that put Liz on alert.

"Alright sir, I'll see you in a half hour then."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Gampa! Bay Bay!" Sammy's excited squeals at the sight of Red and Dembe caused everyone in the conference room to laugh as Lizzie and Don walked in with Sammy perched on Lizzie's hip.

Dembe smiled widely at the little boy but stayed put as he knew that Raymond would monopolize his grandson in 3…2…

"Sammy! My darling boy!" Red cried exuberantly as he rushed over and took Sammy from Lizzie's grasp without even a 'by your leave.' Lizzie merely smiled indulgently as she watched her dad and son interact. The two were currently holding on a rather riveting conversation about Sammy's day – Sammy's side of the conversation was indiscernible but that didn't stop Red from answering and replying solemnly and with great mirth, whichever he felt was warranted at the time.

Looking away from the sight, Lizzie smiled over at Cooper as he – and the rest of the team – watched the interaction between the grandfather and grandson with awed incredulity. The image of the Concierge of Crime overlapping with that of Red the family man was still a new experience for them.

"You wanted to speak to us, Sir?" She spoke up, trying to gain everyone's attention and turn their focus away from her son and onto the topic at hand – whatever that may be.

Cooper suddenly pursed his lips and looked down at his hands. After several moments of watching the man fidget, Liz realized that Cooper was nervous. That couldn't be good. Looking around everyone else in the room, their expressions said that they had come to the same realization.

"Yes, well. I have some news and…I would like some advice as well." Cooper gruffed hesitantly.

Liz nodded her head and stayed silent. Though when no one else in the room spoke and just sat there staring at her, she realized she'd been unofficially designated as the team spokesperson.

"Uh..yea. Okay. What do you need, Sir?"

Cooper stood suddenly and pushed his chair in before bracing his hands against the back of it. "First, I must tell you…after the incident with Berlin – " Here Cooper paused to look at his leg and the cane that he still used to get around. " – some routine tests were run. They found a brain tumor. It's uh…it's inoperable."

Lizzie gazed at Cooper with growing horror and sadness. She had come to care for this man – as she did everyone on the team. She respected him. To know that he was…

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Director Cooper." Red said solemnly. "Did the doctors give you a prognosis?"

"They estimated a matter of weeks." Was the gruff reply.

Lizzie heard multiple gasps overlaid with her own. This wasn't fair.

"I offer you anything I can do to help, Harold. I mean it." Red vowed. "However, I get the feeling that this is not the end of your tale."

Cooper nodded and pulled out his chair again to plop down into it with a sigh. "Yes, I started getting visits from an old friend – Tom Connolley."

Liz sat up straight in her seat. She remembered the name. It'd be hard not to. It was the Assistant Attorney General who'd been kidnapped with Cooper by the Judge. The same Assistant Attorney General who'd called her Miss Reddington.

"He first came to offer me the Directorship of the FBI, once he is elected in as Attorney General."

"He seems rather sure of himself." Red murmured.

Cooper shrugged with a small smile. "However, I had just heard of my illness and refused him, told him why." Cooper paused. "There is an experimental trial that held promise but I wasn't accepted. I mentioned this to him. A few days later, he came in and said he'd gotten me into the trial."

"But… that's a good thing, sir, isn't it?" Aram asked hesitantly.

Cooper shook his head as he wrapped his knuckled against the table sharply. "I don't know anymore." He coughed. "He then came in and asked for a favor – a friend of his was about to be indicted. He wanted me to warn the man." Cooper looked down at his lap. "I'm ashamed to say, I did. Tom put me in a position by getting me into the trial… I couldn't refuse."

There was silence in the room as everyone shifted awkwardly.

"Sir…I don't blame you, I imagine I would have done the same if I were in the same position." Liz hesitated and looked to her dad who gave her a small nod of assent, knowing where she was heading. "But Sir, I wish you would have mentioned this before – at least about Connolley coming to visit."

Cooper frowned at her. "I wasn't aware you were to be given final approval of my friendships, Agent Scott." The man murmured.

Lizzie felt her cheeks burn and she looked down at her lap. "That's not what I meant, Sir. It's just that… Sir, he knows who I am."

A chorus of "what's" echoed from around the room, the loudest being from Don who sat up in his seat, his eyes wide and alert.

Lizzie nodded her head. "During the case with the Judge, he called me Miss Reddington." Lizzie looked over at Cooper. "Sir, there's only one way he could have known that."

Cooper sighed heavily and wiped his brow with his hands. "So you're saying that Tom is a part of this organization – the Cabal." He said tiredly.

"I'm afraid so, Harold." Red stated solemnly. "I'm also afraid that you may have unwittingly aided him – and therefore the Cabal – in some small way by warning that friend of his."

Leave it to Red to really dig salt into the wound. Lizzie gave her dad the stink eye for kicking the man while he was down.

He ignored it. "However, Harold I have a question for you." Red paused, folding his hands over his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. "How long had it been since you'd seen Tom and how soon after you got your diagnosis did Tom start appearing?"

Cooper's brow furrowed in thought. "I hadn't seen him since the case with the Judge and… he started showing up a few days after my diagnosis."

Red nodded sagely but remained silent.

"You think it wasn't a coincidence." Don said softly.

"Very good, Donald." Red said in his usual teasing manner before looking to Cooper. "Yes, I don't believe this was a coincidence at all. How would you feel about having someone I trust very highly – an extremely skilled oncologist – for a second opinion?"

"You think that Connolley got to the doctor first – fudged my results somehow?" Cooper questioned sharply.

Red shrugged as he held up the small toy that Sammy was playing with in his lap, keeping him entertained. "I don't know. That may very well be the case, or Connolley just used the opportunity he was given to worm his way in. The best way to find out is a process of elimination."

Cooper sat for a moment in deep thought before nodding his head decisively. "Yes. Okay, if nothing else, it will ease Charlene to have a second opinion." He said gruffly.

Liz shot Cooper a sympathetic glance and went to stand up as everyone else did, assuming the meeting was over.

"Actually, while I have you all together, I have my own announcement to make – in the interest of full disclosure, of course."

Sammy chose that moment to use the table as a brace to leverage himself shakily onto his feet on his grandpa's lap. Red gently wrapped his hands around the baby's diapered waist as Sammy looked around the room with all the seriousness a 10-month old could muster. "Aba a bo da spoon."

Lizzie and Don immediately laughed, Cooper and Dembe both let out an amused chuckle and Samar let out a snort while Aram let out an adoring gasp, "Oh my god he's so cute!"

Red laughed boisterously, causing Sammy to join in the hilarity with a squeal of giggles.

"I could not have said it better myself, little one!" Red agreed jovially as he leaned forward to kiss his grandson's wavy dark hair.

Once the amusement died down, Red cleared his throat.

"Anyway, as I was saying before I was so cutely interrupted – " Red nodded his head towards his grandson who was now bouncing on his lap in a sort of bouncing baby squat – "I recently found the safe that Alan Fitch was alluding to just before his death." Red said with more solemnity though he could not remove the small smile from his face as his grandson entertained himself.

"Within was a business card with an untraceable number."

"Did you call the number?"

Red raised his brow at Don, clearly unimpressed by the obvious question. "Yes, Donald. I did."

"Who answered?" Aram asked hesitantly.

"I have no idea."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red hurriedly picked up the receiver of the grubby pay phone the moment it began to ring. "Yes?"

"Sorry I cut our previous call short." The same gruff voice from the last call greeted Red. "I was not confident the line was secure."

"Tell me your name." Red demanded.

"Not yet."

"Then you have me at a disadvantage."

"Yes."

Red rolled his eyes and rested his forearm against the top of the pay phone booth. "Alan Fitch directed me to that safe. Your number was inside. He wanted us to talk. Why? What does he want me to know?"

"It is happening."

Honest to god. Could this man say more than three words? "What is? What's happening?"

"No, not like this – in person. Broadway and island, south side."

Oh look – a full sentence. His mother must be so proud.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie walked into the living room and flung her purse onto the sofa before plopping down into her favorite overstuffed chair. It'd been another long day of hunting the deer hunter. Don had left a couple hours earlier to pick Sammy up at daycare. They'd both been feeling guilty about the time they'd been putting in at work – away from Sammy – so they had vowed to take turns making sure to pick him up at a normal hour rather than having Ezra be the baby's nanny. It wasn't exactly in the job description they'd given when Liz had first given the poor man his guard duties.

"Hey Babe."

Lizzie smiled, her eyes closed as strong arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind as Don leaned over the back of the chair. Tilting her head back, Lizzie gave Don a warm kiss in greeting.

"Mmm hello to you too." She murmured, opening her eyes. At the sight of Don's adoring gaze, her smile brightened. "Is Sammy asleep?"

"Yep. Just put him down a few minutes ago. He was out like a light." Don said gruffly, nosing Lizzie's hair out of the way to give himself access to her neck. Once access was granted, he took the lobe of her ear between his teeth and tugged gently before soothing the spot with his tongue, enjoying the moan of appreciation the maneuver had enticed. As Lizzie tilted her head to the side, combing her fingers through Don's hair, he placed a lingering kiss on the soft spot behind her ear.

In a flash, he stood upright and clapped his hands. "Alright! Time for dinner!"

Lizzie spun to face him, her face a mix of bereavement and playful anger. "Oh no you don't, jerk! Your pert butt is coming with me." Lizzie demanded, as she stood up from her seat and grasped Don's hand in hers, marching towards their bedroom.

/\/\/\/\/\

Red stood on the corner of Broadway and 92nd. It wasn't yet 2 but that didn't stop him from checking his watch for the 90th time then eyeing the people around him – sizing up the men to try and match the voice he'd heard on the phone to the various physiques. None of them quite fit.

Just as he lifted his hand to see how many seconds had passed, his burner began to ring. Red groaned before reaching into his pocket to take out his phone.

"Lizzie, Sweetheart, now is really – "

"Someone tried to break into the day care, Dad!" Lizzie's frantic voice gave Red pause and he looked to Dembe, pointing his finger at him then down at the spot where Red now stood, his face an unemotional mask which put Dembe on immediate alert.

"I will be there as fast as I can, Lizzie. Do you hear me?" He questioned gruffly.

"Yea." He could hear the distinct sound of sniffles over the line. "I hear you."

"Good. Now is Sammy with you?"

"Uh huh. We brought all the kids into the Post Office." She said before laughing wetly with a small hint of hysteria. "They're playing with all of Aram's computer parts."

Red chuckled out of duty rather than any actual amusement as he headed to the car, holding his hands out for the keys. "I'll be there soon, Sweetheart."

Red quickly hung up and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

"There's been a security breach at the day care. Stay here. Wait for him."

Dembe looked ready to argue, probably wishing to go to his sister and nephew's aid. However, the somber man took a small breath with that intense gaze of his and nodded, taking up Red's place on the corner as Red sped off.

/\/\/\/\/\

Dembe stood on the corner, attempting to keep his mind in the present yet it continuously drifted to his little sister and his nephew. He could only imagine her panic as his own was mighty.

His thoughts were scattered away at the shrill sound of a telephone ring. Looking around, Dembe quickly found the source of the noise – a payphone several feet away. That wasn't part of the plan.

The phone continued to ring and Dembe jogged over to it before it could ring out.

"Yes?"

"Who the hell are you?" The voice on the other line asked angrily.

"Mr. Reddington asked me to –"

"Why are you wearing a sidearm?" Dembe looked around in every direction. This man could see him, but he could not see the man.

"He needs to reschedule." Dembe stated, still casting around surreptitious glances.

"No, no. That's not how it works. I told him to come alone. I gave very specific instructions."

"Mr. Reddington's a man of his word." Dembe stated, his own anger rising at the apparent besmirch to Raymond's character. "If it were possible, he would be here."

"Wherever he is, whatever the hell he's doing, I hope it's important."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Lizzie!" Red shouted the moment he was out of the yellow industrial elevator. His daughter immediately spun in her chair, Sammy in her arms as Donald hovered over them both.

"Gampa!" Little Sammy cried, though his enthusiasm was dampened by the heavy mood of the war room, he still outstretched his little arms in greeting.

Red quickly snatched up his grandson and held him tightly. "Hello my darling boy." He murmured, kissing Sammy's head. Red then looked to Lizzie and Donald, his eyes displaying his expectation of some answers as he perched Sam on his hip.

"There were three of them. One guy was trying to cut the power while the other two covered the door." Don spoke up, his arm around Lizzie's shoulders. "Ezra noticed the guy first – shot him from his perch on the roof." Don continued gruffly. "He alerted the other guards. Andrew took out one guy. The other guy tried to make an escape when his friend went down, Andrew put an end to him too."

"Any witnesses?" Red asked gruffly as he swayed on his feet as little Sammy blinked sleepily.

Lizzie shook her head as she squared her shoulders. Though a small sniffle escaped, she steeled herself to the task at hand. "No. It took place in the alley between the post office and the day care."

Red nodded thoughtfully. "And all three are dead? Why would Andrew and Ezra do that? They know we would have wanted to talk to them."

Lizzie gave a sad smile. "They feel guilty about that but they've got a soft spot for the kids. Especially Sammy. These guys were trying to kidnap them."

Don scoffed bitterly. "I don't blame them. I would have done the same."

Red nodded, forced to agree.

"How close did they come to getting in?" Red asked.

"Not close at all." Aram stated from where he sat at his desk. He immediately blushed when he looked up from his computer to see them all staring at him and realized he'd just butted into their conversation. "Uh…right. Sorry."

Red waved his unoccupied hand at Aram in a 'please continue' gesture.

"Yes. Okay…so, the guy trying to cut the power from the outside would have been completely unsuccessful."

"How so?" Red questioned encouragingly.

"The box out there is a decoy. It doesn't shut off anything. No one keeps a fuse box outside anymore." Aram said with a scoff. "And we spliced the power to that building – the power for the lights and stuff, that's controlled by a fuse box in the basement." With a few clicks of the fingers, Aram brought up a blue print of the day care onto the large screens above them. "The power for the security system is here in the post office."

"What? How?" Lizzie questioned.

Aram brought up another schematic – this one was obviously of the post office and the day care and included the alley between them. "We ran cables – encased in titanium that is encased in cement that's encased in more titanium – under the alley, connecting the day care's security system to its own box here in the post office." Aram paused. "The only way they would have been able to shut down the power would be to drill a 10 foot hole in the alley then cut through the titanium and cement casings in order to get to the wires, or break into the post office."

Aram looked between the three people, expecting to see relief and happiness. Instead he saw worry and concern. "Uh …guys?"

"They would have cased the building – even if they were just trying to break into a chemicals warehouse, they would have cased it, learned about the dummy box." Don murmured, referring to the front that they'd created to mask what was truly inside the four walls of the day care building. "Any actual surveillance would have told them that."

"Yea… so? Maybe they didn't case the place." Aram suggested.

Lizzie shook her head. "No. It was a team. Teams – especially thieves – don't work on a whim. Thieves like to case a place."

"Theft is only a crime of opportunity for addicts and indebted gamblers. And most addicts and gamblers would set their sights on residences, not warehouses." Red agreed.

"Okay… so what's that mean?" Aram asked.

"It means they had no intention of getting in in the first place." Lizzie murmured worriedly.

"But that doesn't make sense!" Aram said in agitation. "Why would they take that risk?"

"Because someone told them it wasn't a risk. Someone who told them what to do." Red stated solemnly, his eyes never leaving Lizzie. "This was never a kidnapping; this was a threat."