Chapter 3

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After two and a half hours of being ordered around by Max and the nurses, Reese managed to finally excuse himself for a few minutes, and slipped inside the staff restroom. Closing and locking the door behind him, he leaned on it and arched his back, trying to work out the kinks he acquired from hoisting frail-looking - yet surprisingly heavy - residents from their wheelchairs into their beds. He groaned when his spine cracked.

Hopefully Harold was going to have some good news for him - like a group of shady looking men lurking around outside, just begging to be shot in the knees.

"Finch," John said after opening the connection on his end. "Please tell me you've found something."

Reese hadn't intended on sounding so ... desperate, and he could easily envision Finch's raised eyebrows. But at the moment he didn't care if Harold thought his desire to get out of here in favor of beating the crap out of someone was unprofessional. After all, Finch hadn't had to deal with the wandering and groping hands of a bunch of disturbingly juvenile-acting old ladies while struggling to keep up a straight face for the last two hours.

However Finch didn't sound like he'd noticed anything about his employee's disposition when he replied. "I'm still in the process of vetting the staff and residents of the Care Center. Nothing unusual has stuck out so far, I'm afraid."

"Would have been too easy anyway," murmured Reese under his breath.

"Do I detect a hint of negativity towards your current assignment, Mr. Reese?"

Softly chuckling at Finch's dry remark John smirked at the understatement. "Let's just say that 'geriatric nurse' won't make it on my list of possible alternative professions in case I ever need to reorient myself career-wise."

"From what I've witnessed of your bedside manners I believe this to be a wise decision."

Someone who didn't know Harold Finch would probably have believed him to be dead serious, but ever since Reese had started working for the mysterious geek their relationship had slowly progressed from handler and asset to something more familiar and trusting. Even though Finch indeed guarded his privacy like Bear did his favorite chew toy, John had been able to learn a great deal about the person who he knew as 'Harold Finch'.

It hadn't taken the ex-op long to realize and also to appreciate that with that brilliant mind came a very quick, and extremely dry sense of humor as well. By now John knew when Harold was teasing him and when not. "It's settled then," said Reese softly, and just as serious, "next time someone needs saving at a hospital it's your turn."

John's only answer was a soft chuckle, which he translated into 'only when hell freezes over'. He pushed himself off of the door. It was time to get his head back into the mission, and he probably should get back to his duties soon before people started to get suspicious.

Of all the staff members at the Care Center there was one that John was interested in the most at the moment - the one guy he was going to share the night shift with. "Tell me what you know about Max," he said, as he walked towards the sink to wash his hands.

"Maximilian Kovacs, 22. Son of Hungarian immigrants. Grew up in Crown Heights. Did well as a student, and it seems he's managed to stay away from trouble as far as I can see. He's currently putting himself through college, studying software engineering and working the night shift at the Center to supplement his income."

"So, basically he's a saint." John really was starting to get frustrated with this case. There was just not a single lead to follow. Unless ...

"College you said? Sounds expensive." John dried off his hands with a paper towel and threw it in the trash. "Anything interesting in his finances?"

He heard Harold's typing in the background, calling up the info. "Well, nothing unexpected. Even with the student loans he's taken on he seems to be struggling to make ends meet. His parents don't seem to have the resources to support him as well."

Reese braced himself against the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror without really seeing it. His mind was racing through various scenarios that Finch's information had made probable.

"Well, he's certainly a smart kid. Maybe he's asked himself the same question about Candrall's mysterious wealth. He could have the skills to find out about the Cayman account, maybe he's planning on getting his hands on the money. Any idea how much there is?"

"No, I don't. And hacking into those bank accounts would take quite some time." There was a brief increase in the ferocity of Finch's typing. "I'll ask the detectives to check out Mr. Kovacs as well."

Tapping his earpiece into stand-by John stepped out into the quiet hallway. The residents were all hopefully peacefully asleep by now, and the two night nurses were upstairs in their offices - not expected to be seen again until their rounds in a couple of hours.

When John returned to the nurse's desk he found Max with his nose inside a text book, and his laptop and notes spread across the table in front of him. Looking up from his book Max flashed Reese his easy-going and infectious smile. "The ladies got you pretty good a couple of times, didn't they?"

Reese grimaced. There went his hopes of nobody having noticed. "Don't worry," Max said, trying to stay serious but failing miserably at it, "you'll get used to feeling dirty after a while."

"Great," John said with a fake smile. It was definitely time to change the subject. John had no desire for his boss to pick up enough information to deduce on his own what Max was talking about. Some things Finch just didn't need to know. "So, what's next?"

"Well, a quiet night - as long as the kids behave. I've got some studying to do," he indicated the papers and books in front of him, in case John hadn't gotten the drift yet. Shrugging he said, "There's a TV in the backroom. Just keep the volume down."

Reese nodded and sat down on one of the free swivel chairs around the nurse's desk, pretending to play with his phone for a while. After he forced paired his cell with Max's, he checked in on the surveillance feeds he had set up in Candrall's room, and settled in for the next stage of the mission: waiting.

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To be continued...