"This is insane!" Cooper barked. "You're saying that Tom hired some thugs to attempt to break into the daycare to threaten us? He wouldn't do that." Cooper shook his head, refusing to believe what he was hearing.

"Harold, the man you knew – the man you thought you knew, doesn't exist." Red said solemnly.

The team were all squashed into Cooper's office. Red was sitting in the seat on the opposite side of Cooper's desk from the man himself, Lizzie leaned against a filing cabinet with Don standing beside her. Samar stood in front of the door, her feet planted and her arms crossed over her chest while Aram stood in the corner of the room, attempting to become one with the wall.

"Harold, have you spoken to Tom recently?" Red continued. "Have you given him any reason to doubt us – to doubt you?"

Cooper sighed and wiped his hand across his face. "I haven't spoken to him since our last meeting but… I dropped out of the trial."

Lizzie made a small distressed sound in her throat, blushing as everyone looked to her. "Sir… I think we'd all understand if you wanted to take advantage of the trial, just in case…" Lizzie cut herself off with a wince though everyone in the room knew how the sentence would end – just in case you're going to die.

Cooper smiled sadly at Lizzie and shrugged his shoulders. "I have a meeting with the doctors that Reddington introduced me to. We'll be discussing my test results. And if…if the prognosis is still just as bleak, then that's okay." Cooper said heavily. "I will not accept charity from anyone belonging to the Cabal. Even if they're supposed to be my friend."

Lizzie nodded in understanding though the entire room had grown solemn.

"It's not exactly charity if he expects things in return, Harold." Red countered gently, forcing Cooper to nod in agreement.

"So what are we going to do?" Samar spoke up. "If Connolley suspects that we know about the Cabal, should we assume that the entire organization is also aware?"

"They'll wait, bide their time." Surprisingly, it was Don who spoke in his usual gruff manner. "They're not going to come after an FBI task force just because a guy decided not to do an experimental medical trial." He continued, throwing an apologetic glance over at his boss at his blasé manner of speech. "There could be any number of reasons Cooper may have dropped out – the most likely being that he just wasn't comfortable doing favors for Connolley in return."

After a moment of heavy silence in which everyone contemplated the veracity of Don's speech, Red clapped his hands causing several of the people in the room to jolt in shock. "Now! Aram, if you would please allay my dear daughter's worries and explain all of the security measures currently in place at the daycare in excruciating detail. Please."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red pulled Aram off to the side of the hallway as they all exited Cooper's office.

"Aram, I need your assistance locating the source of a call that was placed to a pay phone – at 92nd and Broadway." Red said, his voice a low murmur in Aram's ear as he held onto the young man by his elbow.

"I need a warrant."

Red stared at Aram, his face a cold mask. "You won't need a warrant."

Aram swallowed heavily. "Of… of course I won't need a warrant."

"This is the number." Red reached into his pants pocket and withdrew the business card that had been in the safe. "The call was placed at exactly –" Red paused and squeezed Aram's arm when the man didn't seem to acknowledge that he was still speaking, only continued to stare down at the card. "Aram?"

Aram seemed to shake himself, looking back up at Red. "Yes."

"I can't stress enough the urgency of this matter."

/\/\/\/\/\

Dembe checked the caller ID as his phone buzzed, absentmindedly bouncing the plastic giraffe in his hands, forcing the poor thing to do some strange zombie dance. Recognizing the number, he quickly answered.

"Yes?"

"… Uh, yes … Uh, Mr. Reddington said I should call as soon as I traced the call." Aram's stammering voice came over the line. Dembe couldn't help the small smile that quirked at the edge of his lips. He enjoyed the nervous man. He was funny, and a kind soul. Also brave when it was needed.

"Did you have any success?"

"… Uh, yes, I have an address. Uh, 3130 Sheridan Road, Park Slope."

Dembe hung up on Aram and looked down beside where he lay on the floor when he felt a small smack on his hand. The sight that greeted him was a little Sammy attempting to scowl at him in obvious affront.

"Bay Bay!" Sammy demanded.

"I'm very sorry, Sam." Dembe said with as much sincerity as he could muster around a small chuckle. "Shall we play with the blocks next?"

/\/\/\/\

Lizzie looked up from her paperwork at her son's sudden squawk. Although the day care's security had proven top notch and next-to-impenetrable, Cooper had allowed any parents who didn't have an alternative, to bring their kid to work if need be. Lizzie had taken full advantage of it, not wanting to let Sammy out of her sight. She knew Dembe and Ezra could watch him, there had already been a few times she and Don had to go out into the field and the two body guard/ nannies had taken over Sammy's care. But Liz found it incredibly difficult to let go. No one had dared to mention that Sammy would be the most likely target of any hit on the day care. No one needed to mention it. The fact bounced around her head every moment.

Liz watched as her son bounced excitedly in his play pen in the corner of the office as her dad walked in.

"By all means, come right in." Lizzie said sarcastically. Red's only answer was a benign smile as he walked over to Sammy's pen and plucked him out. "Make yourself at home." Lizzie teased.

"Madeline Pratt has been abducted." Red stated without preamble as he sat down in the chair across from Lizzie's desk and plopped his grandson onto his lap. Sammy immediately wrapped his tiny little spit-soggy hands around his grandpa's tie. To his credit, Red didn't bat an eye at the ruination of a tie worth hundreds of dollars.

Lizzie watched the scene as Red stared bemusedly down at his grandson as Sammy amused himself with his attire. "What do you care?" Liz questioned. "She almost got us both killed."

Red shrugged a shoulder. "Foreplay. My relationship with Madeline is nuanced. Confounding, yet captivating, she's a singular woman, and the world is far more interesting with her in it. What's more, her abductors meet every requisite that defines inclusion on the Blacklist. The Kings."

Liz scrunched her nose in disgust. "Okay first of all – I'm gonna need you to cut the word 'foreplay' from your vocabulary. Secondly – the kings? Of what?"

Red chuckled at his daughter's discomfiture at even a whisper of sexuality coming from her dear old dad. "Not 'king' as in 'king and castle.' Earl King and his two sons, Tyler and Francis, descendants of a Senescent Dynasty." Red elaborated. "Their forefathers built a fortune on the backs of British undesirables, forcing them into decades of indentured servitude– a tradition that has been passed from generation to generation that still continues today."

"So, what does this have to do with Madeline Pratt?" Lizzie questioned, as she sat back in her chair.

Red supported Sammy's bum with one hand as the tot pulled himself up by Red's tie – choking Red in the process – to stand wobbily on Red's lap, leaning towards his grandpa to hold onto his shoulders. "Madeline has made a number of well-heeled enemies over the years, many of whom would pay a handsome price for her head." Red chuckled as his grandson stared up at him before leaning forward slightly to blow a raspberry on Sammy's cheek, causing the baby to squeal with laughter. Once they'd both recovered from their mirth, Red continued. "If merely saving a woman's life isn't enough to warrant the Bureau's interest, consider what taking down a dynasty like the King family would mean. Every transaction meticulously recorded for posterity in the family ledger. Sometimes, years pass between auctions. They're never held in the same place twice. The guest lists are constantly changing. This is your chance to solve a century and a half's worth of abductions and thefts from the Davidoff Morini Stradivarius to the disappearance of Raoul Wallenberg." Red grabbed Sammy around the waist and leaned to the side, fishing something out of his coat pocket before tossing it onto Lizzie's desk. "This phone belonged to a boy in the port of Lisbon, where Madeline was abducted."

Lizzie took the phone and quickly navigated to the photo library. "Pictures of the kidnapping." She stated as she thumbed through the photos.

Red nodded, his mood turned somber. "Find the jackals who took Madeline and they'll inevitably lead you to the Kings."

/\/\/\/\/\

Ressler leaned back against one of the work stations in the war room, folding his arms over his chest. "So, we're going after one blacklister to save another." He framed his question as a statement as he gave Liz a raised brow you-can't-be-serious look. "Tell me how that makes sense."

Liz smirked and shrugged her shoulders as she shuffled through the files laid out in front of her. "Earl King and his two sons, Tyler and Francis – from available intel, they appear to be an eccentric family of trust-fund billionaires. According to Reddington, they supplement their family fortune with profits from their illegal auctions." Lizzie grabbed one file and slapped it against Don's chest, forcing him to grab it or let the pages flutter to the ground. "Six months ago, seized by MI5 disappeared from their evidence vault in Leeds. The painting – stolen from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam." Lizzie said as she pointed to a photo in the file of the painting that she spoke of. "Red claims both these items will fall under the gavel at the Kings' next auction."

"I think I might have something." Both Liz and Don's heads spun as they turned towards Aram before they quickly walked over to his desk. "I isolated this image from the pics, ran it against our known-tattoo database, and got a hit." Aram hit a button on his keyboard with a bit more force than necessary, drawing up a man's mug shot onto the large screen. "Silvio Haratz, a Brazilian-born kidnapper working the world's K&R hotspots. If the auction's gonna be held on US soil, Haratz is headed here."

"We're gonna need local intel." Don muttered.

Aram nodded in agreement. "The DOJ has an active file on Haratz, but it's restricted access."

Liz, Don and Aram's eyes all slide over to Cooper who'd been standing behind them as they discussed, listening without being overbearing. As their eyes all fell on him, Cooper sighed and rolled his eyes, harried, before rubbing his hands over his face.

"Do what you gotta do." He murmured gruffly.

Lizzie and Aram shared a small secret smile while Don nodded decisively, his lips thin.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Scott." Lizzie's voice comes over the line.

"Hello Sweetheart!" Red greeted before turning the phone towards his back seat companion and putting it on speaker. "Sammy, want to say hi to Mommy?" He asked happily.

On the other end of the line, Lizzie laughs. "Hi baby! Are you having fun with Grandpa?"

At the sound of his mother's voice, Sammy immediately began kicking in his car seat, his mouth widening in a gummy smile as he cooed and strung together a string of words that made sense only to him.

"That sounds wonderful, baby! I'm so glad you're having a fun time. I think I need to talk to grandpa though. I love you!"

Sammy gave a garbled response back and Red took the phone off speaker, still chuckling at his grandson's antics as he put the phone to his ear.

"The suspect's name is Silvio Haratz. He's using a safe house called The Palace. We're on our way."

Red sat up in his seat, his face growing harsh as he leaned forward, tapping Dembe on the shoulder. Knowing immediately that something was up, Dembe pulled over. "No. I know The Palace. You people get within a mile of that place, he'll be made. I'll handle it."

"Forget it, Dad. You can't call us off. We're on it."

At the sound of dead air, Red cursed under his breath as he stuffed the phone into his pocket.

"Raymond, language." Dembe said sternly, looking at him disapprovingly through the rear view mirror.

Red smiled apologetically over at Dembe before switching his gaze to Sammy. "Yes, I do apologize. Please do not repeat that fun sounding word around your mother, yea? She'll have my head." He said with mock solemnity before turning to Dembe.

"Call Ezra. We're going to need a babysitter."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red and Dembe moved through the decadently decorated and sparsely lit hotel room, their weapons raised in front of them as they stuck to the walls and cautiously rounded corners. As they entered the living room area, Red slowly crept towards the man who seemed to be slumped in a chair. As he approached, he noticed that the man was tied up… and that he had taken a bullet to the head. He quickly ID'ed the guy as the man with the terrible tattoo – one of the guys that took Madeline.

Red heard a distinctive click and both he and Dembe spun towards the noise. Red watched as Maddie walked through a doorway, her wrists seemingly tied behind her back as an average looking man in glasses wearing a high end coat followed behind her.

Red knew he was surrounded. Dembe was on a swivel, keeping his gun raised, unsure who to hit or if he even should.

"How much do you want for her?" He asked, his voice low.

Four eyes – Francis King – snorted and pushed Maddie forward. "You can have her."

Madeline appeared to stumble towards Dembe. Just as she was about to fall right into the man, she brought her hands up – the hands that Red had thought were tied behind her back. The sound of electricity crackling broke through the quiet of the room.

"Sorry, Dembe." Red heard her murmur as Dembe fell to the ground with a dull thud.

"Well-played, Madeline." Red said darkly, his pursed lips the only outward sign of his anger, his fury. "Payback for my little gambit last year, I presume." Red continued as he held his hands up at his sides and was immediately swarmed by cronies.

Madeline gave him a coy smirk. "Consider us even."

Francis King stepped forward, not liking be the center of attention. "Raymond 'Red' Reddington. Lot number 11." Red held his head high as King inspected him like he were prized cattle. "Beautiful."

Red raised a brow at the vigorous frisking he was receiving from the cronies. "Careful there, boys. You don't want to bruise the merchandise."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red was shoved into what appeared to be a warehouse cellar. He was a bit disoriented as they'd placed a bag over his head while they were in transit. However, as he was shoved through a doorway, he could see crates, paintings…cages, all lining cold cement cellar walls.

He was pushed towards a man with salt and pepper hair wearing a well-tailored suit who sat at a desk, pen in hand and a ledger sat in front of him. The man smirked at him before picking up a polaroid camera. Red's lips pursed as the guards who held him forced him to stand up straight just as the camera shutter went off.

He watched as the man glued his picture onto the thick page of the ledger and wrote Red's name.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie and Don slowly made their way through the dark hotel room, cautiously rounding corners and sticking close to the wall. As they came into the living room, Lizzie gasped at the sight.

There on a chair, his hands tied behind his back, was their suspect. Someone had clearly gotten to them first.

"Liz." Don murmured Lizzie's name from where he stood further in the room. Her brows furrowed, Lizzie came to see what he was looking at and cried out. She rushed over, dropping to her knees.

"Dembe!" She shouted, shoving her brother onto his side. "C'mon Dembe, wake up!"

Her brother let out a groan and opened his eyes. Lizzie let out a huff of a laugh in relief, her eyes stinging. "Hey asshole." She teased wetly.

Dembe gave her a weak smile, his eyes flitting across the room. He must not have seen what he'd hoped to see as his eyes began to furrow in concern.

"Raymond. Is he here?" He questioned urgently.

Lizzie shook her head as worry gripped her.

Dembe sat up with a groan. "He has been taken, Elizabeth. It was a set up. Madeline was helping the Kings."

"Shit."

/\/\/\/\/\

"We intercepted Dembe." Don shouted as he and Lizzie ran into the Post Office war room.

"He informed us they used Pratt as bait, faked the kidnapping in order to bring Red into the Kings' custody." Lizzie explained as they reached the work station where the rest of the team were gathered.

"King family auctions are all about providing criminals with items of value." Samar said softly. "What's more valuable than Reddington?"

Cooper's mouth thinned as he spun around to face Aram. "Where are we on potential auction locations?"

Aram cleared his throat before he hit a button on the edge of the table they surrounded causing the table top to suddenly become a giant screen. "The Kings have real-estate holdings all over the world." He murmured, touching the screen lightly with the pads of his fingers to bring up real estate listings and pictures. "You'd have to be invited to know where this thing is."

"Let's not focus on the Kings. Let's focus on the Kings' guests." Lizzie ordered. "Try and match the items we know they have for sale with the people who might be interested in buying them."

"We'll put together a list." Cooper dictated, obviously agreeing with Liz. "Alert Immigration and the TSA on major points of entry. Identify and report only. Do not detain."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red stood upon a short pedestal inside of a clear fiberglass box. His elbow was crooked and held out like a broken wing as a silent tailor took his measurements. "Your insistence on not speaking, sir, is making a tedious exercise ever so much worse." Red murmured.

Expectedly, he received no response. However, Red watched as a cage was rolled in, a man with perfectly coifed hair, wearing dress slacks and a button down underneath a rather nice sweater strode in behind it.

"Over here, gentlemen." The man pointed boastfully to a clear area in the room and the men rolling the cage followed his direction.

Red swallowed heavily as he got a glimpse inside the cage. It was a young boy – no older than 12.

"Please. Someone help me." The boy cried out. Red's blood boiled. He imagined the boy were Sammy. He regretted the thought the moment it flitted through his brain.

The man in the sweater walked towards Red's cage, his hands in his pockets as he stuck out his chest – still waltzing about on a high from his own 'catch.'

"Raymond Reddington in the flesh."

Red gave a pleasant smile. "You must be Tyler. I hope you're not as short-sighted as your brother. I could be one of your most valued customers."

Tyler chuckled as he shook his head. "As I recall, you're one of the few prospects who rejected an invitation to our auction. Nice try, though."

"I haven't even begun to try. There is one thing about your family that's always intrigued me. Statistically, 65% of inherited family fortunes are frittered away by the second generation." Red stated as the tailor continued to take his measurements. "By the third generation, it's 90%. How is it that the Kings have successfully defied that trend? You must tell me your secret."

"Winner takes all." Tyler stated as if that explained everything.

"And the loser?"

"None of your business."

Well that was ominous. Red silently watched as Tyler turned on his heel and walked away. Red winced and looked down to where the tailor was taking his measurements for his inseam. Rather more intimately than necessary.

"Really, I'm all for being thorough, but at this point, you're just taking the nickel tour."

/\/\/\/\/\

Aram's fingers danced over the keyboard as he sent several documents and pictures to the overhead screens.

"Alexi Koskov, a Russian oligarch with an extensive collection of stolen masterpieces." Lizzie stated as she looked at the screens. She'd already look through the file and knew it by heart but it was nice to have a visual when you spoke about someone. "The Art Crime Division says he's been trying to acquire the Van Gogh since it disappeared in 2002."

"Koskov's on the no-fly list. How can he get into the country?" Samar questioned

"He can't." Aram stated simply. "But his new acquisitions emissary, Josephine Sullivan, flew in from LA this morning." Aram brought up a picture of the pretty blonde woman dressed to the nines in couture. "She just checked in to The Vanguard."

Cooper nodded decisively. "Bring her in."

/\/\/\/\/\

"We know you're working as a representative for Alexi Koskov to authenticate and purchase a stolen painting from an illegal auction. As such, we can charge you as an accessory after the fact, not only for the Van Gogh, but for every crime the King family has committed to acquire the rest of their stock, including kidnapping and false imprisonment." Samar stated, her face a passive mask.

Lizzie tossed a file across the desk and it landed with a thick thud. "This is the Bureau's file on you and your boss." She stated as she gazed at the woman sitting across from her in the interrogation room. "Koskov is untouchable. But you're right here."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Her instructions were to introduce herself to the concierge at The Harleston Read Hotel. Owned by the King family trust." Samar explained as she leaned against Aram's desk.

"Everyone there is on their payroll." Lizzie continued.

"That's it?" Cooper asked warily.

Samar shrugged. "She's supposed to ask for a room with a view of the Capitol."

"Then what?"

"She'd get a room number." Samar expounded. "After that, no idea. She's never attended the auction. Beyond the hotel and the password, we have nothing."

"That's not necessarily true." Liz spoke up. "They're expecting an American named Josephine Sullivan. We can give them that." Out of the corner of her eye, Liz saw Don stand straighter, his hands going to his hips in his typical don't-fuck-with-me stance.

"Undercover? Forget it." Cooper dismissed.

Samar looked to Lizzie, her eyes crinkled with sympathy. "I know you want him back, but there has to be another way."

Liz scoffed angrily. She didn't want sympathy. She wanted her dad back. "If you can think of one, I'm all ears."

Cooper sighed and scratched his forehead. "Okay. We do it. But only as far as the hotel. Go there. Get what you can. I'll have a tac team standing by to hit the auction as soon as you give us a location."

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

"You'll need this for the elevator. Enjoy your stay." The receptionist stated with the typical customer service I-have-to-say-this-every-soul-sucking-day-but-they're-paying-me-to-smile false cheer.

"Thank you." Ressler murmured as he took his key and leisurely made his way over to one of the couches in the enormous lobby.

"She should have a tracker, coms at least. She's going in blind." He murmured grumpily, knowing that Samar would hear him through the com.

"She can handle it." Samar's voice consoled.

Before he can come up with a response, Liz walked into the lobby. And damn she looked good. Dressed to the nines in a pant suit that put anything Hilary Clinton ever wore to shame. Everything she wore spoke of money – from her sexy no- nonsense blouse and slacks to the come hither heels, Liz looked like a million bucks. And that probably wasn't too far off the mark from the actual price tag. Being the daughter of Raymond Reddington had its perks and Lizzie never really took advantage of them.

She was always beautiful but… damn. Ressler had no words to describe the fantastic mix of sexy and classy so he merely stared at her as she walked passed and murmured into his com. "She's in."

/\/\/\/\/\

Liz could feel Don's heated gaze on her and though it felt damn good, she felt like slapping him upside the head. Now was not the time. "I have a reservation. Sullivan. Josephine Sullivan." She said, affecting the slightly pompous air of the nuveau riche as she leaned against the reception desk.

"Of course, Ms. Sullivan." The male receptionist murmured before he began clicking away on his computer. "We have you in a one-bedroom suite."

"With a view."

"Excuse me?"

"I requested a view of the Capitol."

The receptionist smiled brightly. "That can be arranged." He said cheerfully before his fingers began to dance across the keyboard once more. With a final nod, he pointed towards the elevator bay. "Last elevator on the left."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red sat shackled to a barber's chair in the middle of an expansive room, his head tilted cock-eyed as a barber shaved his face with a straight razor. At the sound of a door opening and a mechanical whirring, Red looked up, careful not to move his head.

"Good heavens, Earl. You've never had any feeling in your heart, but now it looks like there isn't much going on below the waist." Red said jovially as he watched a man – who he knew to be around his age but appeared to be much older – navigate his electric wheelchair into the room.

Earl smiled wolfishly before pressing his hand to his tracheal tube. "I do all right." Red held back a wince at the mechanical sound of the man's voice produced by his intubation. He sounded like a telemarketing robot. Or a shitty GPS. "The wheelchair is just a little memento of our time together in Bolivia."

Red smiled benignly. "No hard feelings, I trust."

Earl smirked as he continued to keep his hand over his throat. "Just a few. But this is only business, Red. Besides, you warned me. 'Pigs eat – ''

"'Hogs get slaughtered.'" Red said with a laugh as the barber swathed some more lather onto his face. "All you had to do was listen. But that's always been your problem – all that money clogging your ears. I told you to come with me that night out on the Altiplano."

"I had millions invested. I couldn't just walk away like you."

"Poor choice of words given what those soldiers did to you." Red stated with a chuckle as he looked pointedly at Earl's chair. "I'd hate to see you play the hog yet again, Earl."

"No, no, Red. You taught me an invaluable lesson. Dispassion is the businessman's best friend. One mustn't get emotionally involved in business. You have to listen to the market. You hear that? That's the market telling me you are in demand. What kind of a commodity are you? A wealth of secrets and information? Or are you an impulse purchase for a buyer to settle a score? You scare people, Red. How much would you pay to be rid of your deepest fear?"

God, men with electric voices should not be allowed to give monologues. Red had to suppress a shiver at the creepy sound. "I've always found fear to be my most valuable sense. But then again, you Kings demonstrate a propensity for having more dollars than sense." Red paused with a chuckle. "Your son Tyler was telling me– 'Winner takes all,' I believe he said. I'm curious strictly from an estate-planning perspective. What exactly does that mean?"

Earl's face clouded over with anger and he quickly spun his wheelchair around and left the room.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie walked around the ball room, a champagne flute held daintily in her hands as she roamed around, taking a peek at all of the 'merchandise' as the classical music played. Soon, the musical cut off abruptly and everyone seemed to turn as one towards the center of the room where the Kings – Earl and his two sons Francis and Tyler – stood (well, in Earl's case, sat).

"Ladies and gentlemen." Earl greeted and Lizzie visibly cringed at the man's robotic voice. She felt guilty but it always gave her the creeps when she interacted with someone who had a tracheal tube. "Welcome to The Vicarage. I would like to thank you for traveling many a weary mile to join us on this very special evening. As is customary, you will have 30 minutes to spend among the lots– a taste to whet your appetite and loosen your purse strings."

Everyone in the room laughed politely.

Earl took something from his son, Francis and struck a large gong that had until then gone unnoticed by Lizzie. "It begins." He announced.

The music soon resumed and everyone began to mingle amongst the 'merchandise.'

Lizzie moved towards one of the fiberglass cages and read the placard. "Hello Vincent." She said, trying to keep her voice aloof as she stared at the young boy.

"See something you like?" Lizzie turned as if startled at the sound of Tyler King's voice as the man came up behind her to stand with her. "Little Vincent Peretti, Ms. Sullivan, of the Peretti family. Big Vince has turned state's evidence. There are half a dozen Serbians and Sicilians willing to pay dearly for the leverage to insure his silence."

Lizzie smiled and raised her brow in apparent interest.

"So, I understand you're here on behalf of Mr Koskov." Tyler continued.

"Yes, I am." Lizzie stated, walking over to the painting that she was supposed to be interested in and leaned as close to it as she could, fully aware of the velvet rope keeping her from getting closer. "It's rumored Van Gogh actually painted it at the beach, and up close, you can see the grains of sand bonded to the canvas."

"Remarkable." Tyler said in a tone that clearly indicated he found the fact anything but remarkable. "So, which Ivy League did you attend? It's no secret Alexi fancies a certain breed."

Lizzie chuckled airily. "Columbia, then Princeton."

"Really?" Tyler questioned happily. "I'm a Princeton man. Mm!" The man chuckled, his eyes going distant for a moment as he reminisced. "The Dinky was such fun, wasn't it?"

Lizzie swallowed before bringing her hand up to her nose and letting out a small sneeze. It was the oldest trick in the book. Best way to divert the conversation from somewhere you don't want to be – especially if it's going to blow your cover – then sneeze. Nine times out of ten, the person you're with will forget what they had asked. Her dads taught her well.

"Bless you." Tyler murmured.

Lizzie smiled apologetically as she feigned a sniffle.

"Oh, the Dinky." Both Tyler and Liz turned at the sound of Red's voice. "No matter the time of day, that damn train is always full of hung over frat boys and co-eds in the throes of morning-after regret."

Lizzie raised her brow in surprise and walked down towards Red's cage. Jesus Christ, her dad was in a cage. Lizzie had to swallow the bile and unclenched her hand, her mind drawing up images of various ways she wanted to kill the Kings. "Is that who I think it is?" Lizzie murmured, her voice tinged with curiosity rather than the simmering anger that she felt.

"Well, I can see that you are a woman of good taste." Lizzie turned her head towards the new voice – Francis King. Francis looked to his brother as he sidled up on Lizzie's other side. "Tyler, I believe the Sheikh has questions about your guidance chips."

As Tyler excused himself, Lizzie stepped closer to her father's cage. "The Raymond Reddington. Impossible." She said softly in apparent awe.

"You've changed your hair." Red murmured and Lizzie covered her smile by taking a sip from her champagne flute. Of course her dad would know that the woman she was pretending to be was blonde.

"You know each other." Francis said with surprise.

"Unfortunately." Liz drawled.

"Perhaps you'd like to make a bid." Francis offered as if he were selling cars. Lizzie wanted to take his glasses, snap them in two and then gouge his eyes with the broken pieces.

"I've heard he's far more trouble than he's worth." Lizzie said with a chuckle. "It's probably easier to let someone else buy him. Let him be their problem. I'm here for the Van Gogh. He's probably out of my price range, anyway." As she spoke, Lizzie wandered back over to the painting, not wishing to appear to show too much interest in Red.

"Not mine." Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie watched as a dark skinned man with a thick accent and wearing a rather terribly fitted tuxedo walked up close to Red's cage.

"Yaabari. How are the boys?"

Lizzie's brow rose high. Yaabari the Cameroonian warlord who used boy soldiers?

Yaabari chuckled darkly. "They still tell tales of the man in the hat who burned down our compound."

Red looked Yaabari up and down. "I must say, you've come up in the world, depending on how you look at it. How did you manage to wrangle an invitation? Who's backing you?"

Yaabari merely gave Red a gleaming smile. "I'll see you after the auction." He stated before walking off.

FBI: Just give us the location.

/\/\/\/\/\

Cooper sighed as he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. Unfortunately, his peace was shattered by the sound of a knock against the door frame leading into his office.

"Sir, uh, we may have a problem." Aram murmured, wincing in apology, having noticed that he'd disturbed his boss. "I was checking with DOC on Josephine's transfer to Hazelton. They allowed her to make a call to her lawyer."

Cooper stood abruptly, causing his chair to wheel back and slam into the cabinets behind him. "I gave an order. If she gets word to her people, Keen's cover is blown. Get DOC on the line now!"

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie watched as a stolen manuscript was sold to a man from Maldives, clapping along politely with the rest of the audience.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, one of the most exciting items of the night, a mainstay on the FBI's most wanted list, this gentleman has been on the list longer than any other criminal!" Lizzie stood up straight and slowly made her way closer to the stage, on the fringes of the crowd as her father was lead out by several guards while the Auctioneer spoke. "A former naval intelligence officer, he possesses a wealth of classified information and presides over one of the world's most prosperous extralegal empires. You may know him as the concierge of crime. I present Raymond Reddington." The crowd murmured excitedly as Red in the center of the stage, his face a mask of dispassion. "I will commence the bidding at $2 million. Able to bid now two. Who will give me two? I've got two right here." The Auctioneer pointed to a nameless face in the crowd. "Who will give me 2.5? Able to bid now 2.5."

Lizzie raised her hand.

"Thank you, ma'am. Able to bid now three."

The Auctioneer pointed towards Yaabari. "Thank you, sir. Give me five. Able to bid now five." An Asian man had raised his hand. "Thank you in the back. I got five. Give me six. Able to bid now six." Yaabari raised his hand once more. "Thank you, sir. Able to bid now seven? Able to bid now seven It's only money, folks. Able to bid now seven." Lizzie raised her hand. "I'll take it, ma'am. Thank you. Able to bid now eight." Yaabari raised his hand. "Able to bid now nine. It's only money, folks."

/\/\/\/\/\

Red looked away from the scene that Lizzie was creating and shifted his gaze to the King family. As they whispered hotly, their gazes turned fixed on Lizzie, Red swore under his breath.

"Who will give me nine?" The Auctioneer repeated.

"Nine." Red shouted, causing a stir of murmurs to ripple across the crowd.

"I beg your pardon?" The Auctioneer questioned hesitantly, his gaze shifting over to the Kings.

"$9 million. I assume my money's good here." Red stated simply, his gaze also turning to the Kings.

"Ten!" Yaabari shouted angrily from his place in the crowd.

"Certainly as good as his.16. Come on. I got to be worth as much as that fake Xuande Ming vessel was."

"18."

Red kept his gaze upon Lizzie as he spoke. "Sorry, Santos, but those cat's eye Chrysoberyls are brown, not green. An expensive forgery, but a forgery nonetheless. 20!" Finally, she made direct eye contact with him and he looked pointedly towards the doors. Lizzie, thankfully, got the message and began looking around. She noticed the sudden influx of guards and began making her way towards the doors.

"Ignore that bid!" Tyler King yelled out.

"That hardly seems fair." Red protested, keeping one eye trained on Lizzie as he tried to appear invested in the conversation.

"Get him off the stage now!" Tyler ordered the guards who flanked Red.

The Auctioneer looked to Yaabari. "Does the gentlemen maintain his previous bid of $18 million?"

"You're leaving money on the table." Red shouted angrily, shifting his full gaze on Earl. "What kind of business are you running here, Earl?"

"$18 million going once, going twice, sold for $18 million to the gentleman from Cameroon!" Yaabari's boisterous laughter could easily be heard over the applause from the crowd.

/\/\/\/\/\

Cooper slammed into the interrogation room where Ressler was questioning the driver of the car that had taken Lizzie from the hotel.

"Give us the room." He ordered darkly.

"Sir?" Ressler questioned hesitantly as he slowly stood from his seat.

"Now, Agent Ressler." Cooper barked.

Don gave his boss one more uncertain look before leaving the room.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie ducked around the darkened corner of the basement hallway at the sound of approaching footsteps. Within moments, the coast was clear and she continued on her search. Finally, she came upon the room where the 'merchandise' was held and quickly entered. At the sound of more footsteps, she quickly hid behind a crate and watched as a suited guard walked up to the glass case where little Vincent was held.

"Come on. Let's go." The guard ordered as he opened the cage.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for the Van Gogh. I paid a fortune for it."

The guard turned to face her as she appeared beside him. "All items are held till the end of the auction. You need to –" Lizzie stepped on the man's foot with her heel. As he reflexively bent forward, she followed up with an elbow to the nose. The man went down like a sack of bricks.

Liz rushed forward and grabbed the boy's hand. "Come on. I'm getting you out of here. Come on. Stay with me. Okay." She murmured hurriedly as she rushed over to Red's cage. "Stay right here, okay?" She coaxed the boy, her hands on his shoulders before turning towards her dad.

Lizzie began trying to punch random numbers into the keypad on her dad's cage.

"We have to get these people out of here." Lizzie murmured, shaking her hands in frustration as the code was denied again. "How do you open this thing?"

Red leaned towards her to meet her eyes through the fiberglass cage. "Lizzie, you need to go." He murmured gravely.

"Damn it!" Lizzie whispered harshly as another code failed. "What's the code?"

"Listen to me. I was brought in through a series of tunnels that way. If you hurry, you'll be miles away before they ever realize you're gone. Take the boy and go."

Lizzie finally looked up at her dad and swallowed. "You could be killed."

They both froze at the sound of a man's voice echoed down the corridor. "She's off the main floor. Split up. Check every room."

"Lizzie, you did everything you could. It's time to go. Go!"

Lizzie's eyes blaze as she stared at her dad a moment longer before spinning on her heel towards the boy. Damn him. Damn everything. Grabbing the boy by his hand, Lizzie made it out of the exit Red had indicated just as the door at the front of the room slammed open.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Spread out! We need to find that girl immediately. Okay, get in here. Get in here. Where the hell's the Peretti boy?" Francis King shouted as he and his brother, along with a small contingent of guards and Yaabari walked in.

"I'm sure your friend with the glass jaw will enlighten you when he comes to." Red stated jovially, nodding towards the guard who was still K.O.'ed. "What's in this for you?" Red asked the brothers.

"You wouldn't understand. You're not a King." Francis spat.

Red laughed. "Funny. Your father used to say that exact phrase as if it somehow excused him from the use of logic."

"What's in it for me? Hmm." Francis said mockingly as he sauntered towards Red's cage. "Legacy and the King family fortune."

Red rolled his eyes with a huff. "If this is just about the money, that would be so banal. I bet your father would trade it all for one more walk in the park with a good friend."

Red watched dispassionately as Francis input the code and the door to his cage swung open.

"Tell me, where are all your good friends now, huh?" Francis taunted as Red stepped out of the cage. "If you think there's a soul in this world loyal to anything but your pocketbook, then you're the one who's excused himself from the use of logic." Francis spun towards Yaabari and swept his arm towards Red as if he were a showcase. "Your prize." Francis then turned towards the guards. "Let's find that kid!" He spat as he walked off.

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie stopped in the hallway at the sight of the door that Red had intimated. She leaned towards Vincent and rested her hands on his shoulders as they both took in deep lungs full of air.

"Vincent, I need you to run through that door. See it?" Lizzie physically turned the boy so that he was looking at the Door. "Go as far as you can, okay?"

"You're not coming with me? You can't go back!" The boy shouted clearly terrified.

"Run." Lizzie ordered. "Go! Go!"

/\/\/\/\/\

"Yaabari, before you exact your vengeance, consider this – I could easily provide you with enough influence and firepower to crown yourself king." Red bargained as Yaabari led him down the corridor. "Isn't it time you stopped running through the forest playing army with a bunch of kids?"

"A generous offer, but I'm here for more than just my vengeance."

Red scoffed. "I knew it. Who's backing you?"

"A man in Johannesburg has put a $40 million bounty on your head. I plan to collect it."

"Good luck. A lot can happen between here and Johannesburg." Red said, a small smile on his face.

Yaabari's head tilted back in laughter. "You will not be traveling to Johannesburg. You are not listening. I said the bounty is on your head." Yaabari held up a small case and shook it to prove his point.

Red swallowed heavily, not bothering to hide his fear. This was it. This little two-bit piece of shit who played Army in the jungle was going to kill him.

/\/\/\/\/\

Yaabari led Red into the center of a sterile white tiled room. "Right here." He ordered before kicking out Red's knees from beneath him. With a grunt of pain, Red's knees hit the ground.

"Try not to take it personally. Business is business. In fact, Raymond, I've always been quite fond of you."

"Can't tell you what a comfort that is to me." Red murmured as he closed his eyes.

Lizzie riding her bike.

Opening a safe for the first time.

Her little legs kicking in his lap as he read to her.

Red could feel the cold caress of the gun barrel against the back of his head.

Graduating high school.

Watching from a distance as Sam walked her down the aisle.

The metallic click of the gun cocking.

Lizzie playing with little Sammy on a blanket in their back yard.

"Lizzie." Red murmured, a serene smile on his face.

BANG!

Red flinched, his mind stuttering to a halt as he…wait. Red heard the familiar dull thud of a body hitting the ground and he was 60% sure it wasn't his. He opened one eye cautiously. At the sound of heels against the tiled floor, he opened both.

His Lizzie came around from behind him and fell to her knees, tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she set the gun down and leaped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug so tight, they had to both work to stay upright.

"Lizzie! The handcuff key's in his back pocket."

"Okay." Lizzie said with a sniffle before she pulled away and shuffled over to where Yaabari now lay dead, blood pooling around his head. She quickly began to rummage through his pockets.

"Someone's gonna come back. They must have heard the gunshot." Red whispered urgently. "We got to get out of here."

Within moments, the handcuffs were clattering to the ground.

/\/\/\/\/\

As they rounded another doorway, Red could easily make out the voices of the King men. "Father, this is ridiculous. You must call this off." Tyler plead.

"You know as well as I do. There is no calling it off." Francis replied harshly.

"Get on with it." Earl's mechanical voice ordered.

Red and Lizzie walked into the room to find Earl positioned behind a large oak desk next to his butler, his two sons standing in front of the desk, Tyler aiming a gun at his own head.

Red walked into the room, his gun poised on Tyler, knowing without looking that Lizzie was right behind him, her own gun trained on Francis. "If that hammer falls on an empty chamber, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. Put it down." Red ordered with a bark.

Tyler quickly threw the gun down onto the desk and raised his hands in the air.

"Earl." Red greeted convivially as he picked up the gun that Tyler had just tossed. "Someone should have put you out of your misery generations ago." He quickly aimed the gun at Earl's chest and pulled the trigger. Earl's body twitched once with the force of the bullet.

Red chuckled as he looked over at the shocked faces of Earl's sons as they stared at their father's body. Tyler looked particularly ashen. "Oh, my God. What are the odds?" Red laughed as he tossed the gun back onto the desk and turned around, not a care in the world. "I'll leave the three of you to your own misery." He said casually. "Avoid the yard, be nice to your cell mate, and whatever you do, don't eat the franks and beans." Red stated as he gestured with a wave towards the windows where red and blue lights were flashing and sirens had begun to wail as the Calvary arrived.

Red let Lizzie out of the room first and paused at the door, turning back to the two brothers. "Oh, and I don't need your lousy tux. I want my clothes back."

/\/\/\/\/\

Lizzie gave a huge sigh as she hopped into the backseat of the SUV that her dad and Dembe were currently using, the flashing lights of the police vehicles severely dimmed by the blacked out windows.

"You can never do that again." Red murmured hoarsely as she slid into the back seat next to him.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "You're welcome." She murmured sarcastically as Dembe pulled away from the curb.

"I'm serious." Red said, his voice slightly hysterical. "You can never do that again. Promise me."

Lizzie finally looked over at her dad and was taken aback by his haunted eyes. His face was gray and his eyes had bags like waves stacked one on top of the other.

"We took down dozens of wanted criminals, recovered millions of dollars in stolen property, and saved innocent lives."

Red shook his head. "I'm not talking about that."

Lizzie stared at her dad for a few silent moments until it clicked. "You. You're talking about you. Wow." Lizzie shook her head. "I cannot believe you have the nerve to ask that of me. To ask that I not save you." Lizzie glared at her dad. "Your entire life has been centered around saving me, keeping me safe." She yelled hotly. "And I love you so much for it. More than anything in this world. But god forbid that I save you for a change." Lizzie said with a huff.

"That is precisely why you can never do that again." Red rasped. "I have done everything I could to keep you safe. I refuse to let you jeopardize yourself in the name of saving me. Do you have any idea what that would do to me?" Red's voice hitched. "It would ruin me. To know that you died so that I could live."

Lizzie bit her lip fruitlessly. The tears still fell as she slowly shook her head. "It's never going to get through your thick head, is it?" She asked wetly. "That feeling that you can't even imagine – the feeling of loss that you can't bring yourself to even contemplate at the mere thought of me dying – You still don't believe that anyone, even me, could feel the same way." Lizzie sniffled. "If I lost you – if I lost you knowing there was something I could have done… don't ask that of me." She whispered, her voice taking on a bitter edge. "Don't you dare ask me to step aside."

They stared at each other, each assessing the other until finally Red nodded tiredly and melted into the back of his seat.

"And when someone does something nice, you're supposed to say 'Thank you.'" Lizzie murmured, turning her head to look out the window.

Had there been even the faintest sound – the muffled rush of a passing car, Lizzie might not have heard the quiet "Thank you."

/\/\/\/\

Red had gone all out for this thing. It was a little bit insane in a flattering sort of way. Don didn't want to think of who this house actually belonged to. All that mattered was that there was an enormous yard – big enough for the bouncy castle (that there was no way in hell that Sammy was getting in but the other agents' kids seemed to be enjoying), several picnic tables (some for eating, some laden down with the catered picnic foods – "Oh! Donald! How could you live in D.C. for so long and not have eaten Q & M's barbeque? Lizzie, Sweetheart, I'm afraid you may want to rethink the man in your life."), and a petting zoo. A fucking petting zoo.

Both Liz and Don had tried to get Red to reign it in a bit but the man wouldn't hear of it.

Flashback

"After all, it's the only time I've actually gotten to pick who my grandson's father is!" Red had said jovially.

Don huffed, unamused, while Lizzie chuckled, clearly exasperated with her dad. "Dad, you didn't choose Don. If anything, I did."

Red raised a brow and gave her a stern look. "Lizzie, sweetheart. Look at who you're talking to. If I didn't want him to be Sammy's new dad, frankly, you never would have heard from him again."

That day had put a new spin on the phrase 'Thankful to be alive.'

End Flashback

Don's gaze wandered over the party. Red was talking to Cooper and his wife, Samar and Aram were over at one of the tables, munching and chatting. Don chuckled as his gaze stuttered on the sight of Dembe with Sammy on his shoulders, wading around with two toddlers sitting on top of his shoes, holding tightly to his legs and squealing each time he took a step. Don was sure that Sammy had no idea what he was laughing at but that didn't stop the little tike – his son – from finding it hilarious.

/\/\/\/\/\

Don startled slightly as Lizzie came up behind him, but quickly relaxed and melted into her as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Hey you." She murmured, pressing a kiss on the sensitive skin right behind his ear.

"Hey." Don said huskily, taking a swig of his beer before putting it back down on the picnic table. The place had pretty much emptied out – most of the agents and their kids had left, especially once the rented bouncy castle and petting zoo were all packed up. Now it was just the team and Red's people. Don could admit, if only to himself, that he liked this half of the party a lot better. Less people and the company was better. Though he'd never tell Red that.

"You may want to prepare yourself, I think Dad was planning to give a – " Lizzie was interrupted by the tinkling sound of a fork hitting the side of a glass bottle "– speech."

Don groaned and his face began to flame as a sort of pre-emptive strike to the oncoming embarrassment.

Lizzie laughed and grabbed his hand in hers as she came around to his front to cart him off closer to the rest of the gathered party. As they drew nearer, Lizzie paused to take Sammy from Ezra and hoist the baby onto her hip.

"Hello all!" Red began happily. "I just wanted to thank everyone for coming to our celebration today and …well, okay. That's a bold faced lie." Red paused with a bright smile while everyone gave a small laugh. "Though I believe I can speak for the entire family when I say that I am incredibly grateful not only for coming to the party but for everything you have done for our family." Red paused, smiling softly as he gazed at everyone there who gladly returned his smile. "A family" Red continued "Which has just grown." Red lifted up his glass of scotch towards Don. "To Don, our little Sammy's father in every way that matters."

As everyone raised their glasses and murmured their agreement, Don cleared his throat which had suddenly become rather dry. Liz leaned in, wrapping her free arm around his waist as she hugged him from the side, leaning up on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Sammy, deciding he wanted in on the hug, threw his little body between Don and Liz in a sweet imitation of a hug. "Mama! Dada!" He squealed happily.

Don wrapped his arms around Lizzie and Sammy tightly.

/\/\/\/\/\

The sun was about to set and Sammy's little head was bobbing sleepily where he sat on Don's lap, leaning against his chest. Don knew it was now or never.

Don hunched over to murmur into Sammy's ear. "Alright Buddy, time to give your mama her present, just like we talked about yea?" As he spoke, Don felt around under the table for the thing he'd hidden there earlier in the day.

At his words, Sammy immediately perked up, any sleep in his eyes gone without a trace. "Yea!" He squealed. The conversation around them paused at the baby's exuberance but quickly picked up again as everyone assumed that Sammy was well, just being Sammy.

Don chuckled as he stood, carefully maneuvering Sammy onto his hip while keeping Lizzie's present carefully concealed behind his back.

Everyone had gathered several chairs into a loose circle and were currently chatting away. However, conversations soon died off as Don made his way across the center of the circle towards Liz.

/\/\/\/\

As Red looked away from their conversation, a small happy smile on his face, Lizzie followed his line of sight, her brow furrowing in confusion at the sight of Don walking towards her with Sammy in his arms. As she watched, Don stopped a few feet in front of her and crouched down on the ground, kneeling on one knee to put Sammy down on the ground. Once Sammy was on his own two wobbily feet, Don then murmured in his ear, withdrawing something from behind his back.

It was a teddy bear. A little blue teddy bear which Sammy eagerly snatched out of his daddy's hands causing the group to chuckle lightly.

"Alright Buddy, give your mama her present." She heard Don murmur.

"Kay!" Sammy said happily before turning towards Lizzie.

"Hey baby! Whatcha got there?" Lizzie encouraged.

Sammy laughed and trotted unevenly over to her, his little arms wrapped around the teddy bear. Lizzie quickly leaned over and plucked her son from the ground once he got close enough, sitting him on her lap.

"Mama! Look!" He said, thrusting the bear into her face. Lizzie chuckled and Red joined in as they realized that Sammy had shoved the bear's backside into her face.

"Can I see, baby?" Lizzie asked sweetly as she gently grasped the bear to turn it around so that she could see it properly, her son happily allowing her to do so.

Lizzie turned the bear over to take a proper look and gasped. Lizzie's head whipped up to look at Don who still kneeled in the grass in front of her and down at the bear.

Will you marry my daddy? Was stitched into the Teddy Bear's belly. Lizzie tore her gaze from the bear and back towards Don, her eyes filling with tears. In the time it took her to read the words again, Don had taken out a small box from his pocket and opened it, holding it out towards her.

"I love you and Sammy more than anything in this world. I am awed every time I look at Sammy and I get to call him my son." Don paused, clearing his throat gruffly. "The one thing I need to make our family complete though, is to be able to call you my wife. "Will you marry me?"