Previously...
The man sighs, clearly annoyed at having to play twenty questions with the younger woman. "Then what, Yvonne, do you suggest?"
The woman grins mischievously. "Why, I thought you'd never ask." She waves her hand in the general direction of the doorway just as it bursts open. It takes a minute for the two older men to figure out what's going on, as the room is suddenly full of struggling and grunting as two additional men haul a kicking and screaming younger man into the room.
The man is forced to his knees, and a bag is ripped off of his head, revealing dark black hair and angry eyes. The man is gagged and has is sporting a black eye and a split lip (most likely earned as a result of his struggling).
"Meet Aram Mojabai. Our inside man."
Unknown Location, Unspecified Time
"Meet Aram Mojabai. Our inside man."
The room is silent for several moments - even Aram is afraid to speak or to move. He'd already received plenty of encouragement to stay still on the ride over. Wincing, he realizes that he needs to avoid needing any more motivation if he'd like to leave in one piece.
I should have taken the night shift, let Samar go home, he internally moans, realizing his mistake in leaving the hospital while it was dark and no one was around. It'd taken them less than thirty seconds to drive up, grab him, stuff him in the car, and knock him out. By the time he'd woken up, he'd been moved to an unknown location and had no recollection of how he'd gotten there, other than the bump on his head and the pounding in his ears. Although, he back-pedals internally, if it hadn't been me, it could have been her.
It gives him a small bit of courage, knowing he was the one here and she was safe (even if he hadn't known his actions at the time might have saved her this experience).
"He doesn't look very convinced," one of the men comments after a while, and the lady - Yvonne - laughs. The sounds is a high, tinkling chime and it makes Aram's head pound even harder (he's afraid he might have a concussion).
"He will be."
"No," Aram speaks up, and he realizes a second too late that, really, keeping ones mouth shut when one has been kidnapped and beaten up is really very smart. His voice starts to shake, but damn it, he will not be convinced to be a spy. "I don't think I will be convinced, actually."
He winces before the blow hits, because he knows it's coming. He's left reeling from a blow to his left ear, and the ringing is now louder than the voices around him. Oh, well, he thinks. I didn't want to listen to them anyway.
He's woozy and more than a little frightened now. The adrenaline that had been pumping through him seems to be wearing off and he can feel every muscle in his body aching, his split lip, the headache, and what's sure to be some bruised ribs. When he'd first woken up and fought back, he hadn't yet taken stock of his surroundings, of his situation.
"We weren't really going to ask your opinion," Yvonne says. "We need information on Donald Ressler, and you can get it for us. Or," she smiles, and while her face is pretty, the way she's staring at him, caressing the tip of a knife (where did that come from? Probably another form of encouragement) makes her seem sadistic and ugly. "Dear Aram, you really don't want to cross us. You've had... friends who have tried that in the past." Her voice is soothing now, her smile widening as she reaches down and cups his jaw. He wrenches it from her grasp, his heart pounding, his breath coming in fast gasps. "We are telling you. You will go into work and find out what our dear Donald knows, and report back to us."
"I - "
Aram is shaking now, and only part of it is for show (because he knew when he first woke up he'd have to give in to their demands, because - ).
"I don't know how to contact you," he says in defeat, and he thinks he's done a fairly good job of acting afraid (because he is) because Yvonna begins her tinkling laugh again and the two men who are standing in the shadows smile and share a look.
"Don't worry yourself about the details," Yvonne says, and as she reaches down with the knife, Aram winces. When he doesn't feel the blade in his skin - when, in fact, he feels his hands fall free - he gasps in a breath of surprise. "We'll be in contact."
The bag is shoved over his head once more and the man says roughly, "Fight me and I'll make sure you have an accident on the way home."
Aram doesn't fight him.
Instead, he tries to memorize how first his body and then the car is moving - but he can't keep up. He does know it takes about twelve minutes, and then he's being shoved out of the van, bag still over his head, onto the sidewalk outside of the hospital.
What the hell could he do now?
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...
"Let me go, I'm not a fucking invalid," Ressler growls, and Samar tries very hard to hide her smile. She has to bite her lip, but she raises her hands in the air and takes a step back as Ressler stands to his feet. He's surprisingly steady, but she supposes that's mostly because he was shot in the shoulder, not the leg. His arm is wrapped and tied to his chest with a complicated looking sling, and he's grumbling in annoyance as he tries to tuck his belongings - wallet, keys, phone - into the pockets of the clothing Aram had brought him (the clothing he'd worn that night had, of course, been cut off of him in the emergency room).
"Ready to go home?" Samar asks, hanging the wheelchair back to the nurse, who is also grinning at Ressler's crankiness (after five days, they're all immune).
"Ready to go back to work," he counters, and Samar rolls her eyes.
"You've been shot. Take a day off for God's sake."
Ressler grunts in response and tries to shrug his jacket on. After failing twice and knocking Samar's hand away, he gives up, slings it over his injured shoulder, and turns around with a sigh.
"I'm ready to go."
Because he's a little bit invalid and he can't drive himself, goddamnit.
"Right! To the post office," Samar says with entirely too much cheer for Donald Ressler's liking. He follows her out of the hospital, a little slower than he normally would, and takes in a deep breath of fresh air as they walk outside.
God, he'd missed the sun.
"Good to be outside, huh?" Samar asks, and she almost opens the door of the SUV for him but thinks better of it (better to let the man struggle and be in pain than wound his pride).
"Good to be out of that damn hospital," he agrees, and climbs clumsily into the car. "Any news on Keen or Reddington while I was stuck in there?"
Not unless you count that phone call I overheard last night.
"No, nothing to speak of. They've disappeared again."
"Huh."
They're silent for the majority of the drive. It's not until Samar is about to pull into the parking garage that Ressler's phone rings. He looks and sees unknown number flash across the screen, and he's about to pick it up because she called again, and then he remembers he's not alone.
"Gonna get that?" Samar asks, raising an eyebrow as she flicks on her turn signal. She turns into the garage, and Ressler is about to say, nah, it's not important, I'll call back later, but it is important, and he might not be able to call back later, and also -
"Just know we're on your side, no matter what."
He swipes to answer his phone and presses it to his ear, a lump in his throat (will Samar be as receptive as Aram was? Will she report him?) and breathes, "Liz," into the phone, ignoring Samar as she slams on the brake a little too hard as she pulls into a spot. He hears her make a small, choked noise (regardless of the fact she knew about his previous phone call, the fact that he just answered a call from Liz in her presence surprises her).
"Not Liz," an amused voice answers, and Ressler immediately panics.
"Oh, my God, Reddington, is she alright? Why the hell are you calling me?" She must be hurt, caught, dead —
"Calm yourself, Donald, Lizzie is just fine."
He relaxes a little, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear so he can open his door. Samar falls into step beside him as he walks (slowly, he has to finish this call before getting inside) to the elevator.
"Then why the hell are you calling?"
"I'm calling because you've been compromised. Someone in your inner circle has turned against you."
Ressler knows that a look of confusion passes over his face, but he waves Samar off when she gives him an inquiring glance. "Not possible," he says, because what he considers his 'inner circle' is himself, Aram, and Samar, and the aforementioned two have been living with him at the hospital for the past week, save for short trips home to sleep and shower.
"Oh, it's completely possible, and in fact very much true. I believe that someone known to me as Yvonne has been talking to one of yours. You're not safe - you can trust no one. Our sixty seconds are up, Donald, but I hope you'll believe me when I say you can trust no one."
The line goes dead, and Ressler takes more time than necessary ending the call and locking his phone. He's trying to organize his thoughts before looking up to meet Samar's eyes.
She's staring at him, one eyebrow raised.
"That was Reddington," he confirms.
"Right. And, how long has this been going on?"
"That's the first time he's called me."
They're silent as they walk into the elevator and Ressler presses the button for the post office floor.
"He says we've been compromised."
"Reddington is very trustworthy. If he says we have been, we have been."
Ressler sighs - that was what he was afraid of, even if he doesn't want to believe it. "Fine. Then that probably means we can't talk about this at work. Proceed as normal throughout our day, we'll talk after work."
Samar nods, and they both step off of the elevator.
The sight that greets him confirms everything Raymond Reddington said to him and causes him to falter in his steps.
You're being watched, don't change your behavior, he cautions himself. Trust your training, go with your instincts. Instead of cornering the man immediately, he walks straight up to Aram Mojabai and rests his free hand on the desk the younger man works at.
A black eye and a horrifically split lip greet Ressler, and as he hears Samar gasp behind him, he knows that he is not alone in his surprise (or, he would venture to guess, his immediate suspicion).
"I need a ride home tonight," Ressler says, and he hopes he's not coming on too strong - he doesn't want to scare the man off. But he does want to talk and it's not safe here, and if the state of Aram's face is anything to go by, they're being watched and whoever is doing the watching is a force to be reckoned with.
"I - I can do that," Aram says, and his eyes flicker past Ressler's, no doubt to meet Agent Navabi's gaze. Ressler leaves them to it, and as he reaches his office and looks down on the two of them (Navabi gently cupping Aram's jaw in her small hands, delicately probing the injuries to his face) he feels real fear (not just disbelief and anger at the existence of a shadow government) of the Cabal and the many secrets they holds, the power they have over every single one of them, the corruption and how deep it runs.
And he hopes that he hasn't realized the hold the Cabal has over them too late to be any help to Aram.
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...
"What the hell? Did they get to you? Are you reporting on us?"
Ressler is angry and terrified and before he realizes what he's doing, he has Aram pressed up against the side of his car, fingers tightly grasping the younger man's collar, holding tightly (and probably making it difficult for him to breathe).
"What the hell happened?" he demands when Aram doesn't speak immediately.
"Stop! Stop!" Aram wheezes, and Ressler drops him in a huff, turning on his heel and running a hand though his hair, messing up his carefully styled locks. When he turns around, he's not so much angry as completely and totally terrified. He's scared for his team, for himself, for Liz, for the fact that it's looking like the corruption runs too deep to ever clear her name. "Stop, please, let me explain."
Ressler takes a deep breath, running his hand though his hair again. "In the car," he says, because he's fairly sure it's not bugged. Regardless, as they climb in, he pulls out a frequency jammer and turns it on. Aram starts his car, pulling out of the garage before he begins to speak.
"They grabbed me when I left the hospital," he says quietly. "I fought, they beat me up. I knew from the moment they grabbed me, I'd have to give in."
Ressler scoffs, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. "Why?" he asks, and it's part sarcastic and part interested - Aram is a smart man, he wouldn't give up unless he had to, right?
Aram laughs dryly. "Because there are too many of them and we don't yet understand how they're working. We have no idea who is leading this... this cabal. We have no idea who holds what information over us, and if we don't do what they want, we have no idea who they'll kill or frame."
Both men are silent for a moment, before Aram sighs and says, "I care about Agent Navabi too much - and I think they know that. I was scared that if I didn't say I'd report on you, they'd frame her, or hurt her, or kill her. Ressler, I can't do what you've been doing. I can't lose Samar like you - we - lost Liz. I'm not that strong."
Ressler doesn't respond, because part of him wants to yell that it's not the same with him and Liz (but it is, just in a different way, yet no less intense) and the other part of him still wants to yell at Aram for being weak and stupid, and - but he won't, because if he'd had a choice in the matter, in what had happened to Liz, he might have tried that path, too. At least she'd still be here working with them.
"We'll figure it out," Ressler says finally, relaxing back into the seat and wincing when he finally realizes how much strain he put on his arm when he pushed Aram up against the car. "We always do, right?"
Aram tries to smile, but it's clear to Ressler that it's fake. The smile doesn't reach his eyes, and he can tell that Aram is stressed and scared. "Yeah, we do, I guess."
It's a pity neither man believes the lie they're telling themselves.
Woo! I'm having a lot of fun writing this. :) Also, I hope you don't think anyone was out of character here. I had to take some liberties, because we've never seen our characters in this deep. I think Aram has grown since season 1, when the base was invaded, and therefore I tried to reflect that in his character when he was taken. And Ressler, I DO think he's scared - though he doesn't want to admit it. He's trying to work inside the system, but the system is so corrupt that he no longer knows what to do, who to trust, who to tell things to. If he's scared at every turn there's someone watching, listening, eventually his faith in the system will fail.
Please let me know what you thought!I can't wait for the next chapter. ;) Review for a sneak peak!