Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest or any of its characters.
A/N: Thanks to the guest reviewer who posted yesterday. It gave me the push to start this story again. It will be finished eventually—no promises of when but there will be a resolution.
Chapter 6:
Sameen Shaw was in a foul mood as the dreary sky lightened in the early morning. The sun wouldn't make an appearance today as the rain continued to pelt her. She felt like a drowned rat with her jeans and t-shirt stuck to her body and her socks made a squishing sound inside her soaked leather boots. While she had been in worse conditions during her years working for Control, she had to admit she had become accustomed to some of the creature comforts associated with working for Harold Finch.
"I was surprised to hear from you, Sam," Tony Marconi said with a smirk as he approached her from behind, dressed in all black and remarkably dry. Grimacing with her brow furrowed, she turned to face the man who somehow looked as though he had just woken from eight hours of blissful sleep. His cheerful demeanor only made her chew angrily on her lip.
"I don't have time for small talk. Do you or your boss have any leads on who is controlling Gina Belton?"
"You think she has your girl, right? Yogorov's sister," Marconi asked nonchalantly, as they stood huddled under a stoop, trying to escape the pouring rain. Sam wasn't surprised Tony already knew about their wayward number. They could hardly do anything in this town without Elias knowing. As the Russians and HR scrambled, Elias continued to make strides in reclaiming the City. Unfortunately, while Team Machine was aware of Elias's advances in rebuilding his empire, at the moment, they had more pressing matters. Elias was the lesser evil, for now.
"Do you know anything or not," Sam huffed. "I really don't have time to play twenty questions, Scarface," she spat with a biting tone.
"Well aren't you just a pleasure today. No, we haven't heard anything. We have feelers out. Apparently word has gotten to Yogorov and the younger brother, sending the Russian remnants into a tailspin. If we have anything in common with them, it's that we both protect our own." Without a word, Shaw stepped back into the rain, briskly walking away. "You're welcome," Tony yelled at her retreating back. "Next time send Carter," he said disgustedly as he went in the opposite direction.
The rain still hadn't let up when Carter arrived at the precinct. Natalie had been missing for 7 hours and Carter felt guilty. She never should have left Natalie at the safe house. She knew the young woman didn't trust anyone. Why should she? She had been betrayed at every turn from the time she was a child. Mike Laskey had told Natalie to seek out Carter and instead of staying behind and giving the girl a little patience, she shirked her responsibility and went home, using the problems in her own life as an excuse. Carter hated herself for it. She felt as if she was losing the tenacious detective she had once been under the strain of her precarious situation with John, the team, work and the looming Alonzo Quinn trial.
Carter almost didn't hear Lionel call out her name as she passed the front desk and placed her bag and raincoat on her desk, piled high with paperwork. "You looked like you were a million miles away, Partner. Everything ok?" Fusco questioned. She frowned and he raised an eyebrow. "Ah, still no word?" he asked gently.
Silently, she nodded her head and shook out her raincoat before hanging it on the hook beside her desk. "Hey, Carter, don't beat yourself up. I'm sure she'll be ok. She seems like a tough girl with everything she's been through. Oh, by the way, someone left this for you with the desk sergeant." Fusco reached across to his own desk and handed her a manila envelope. "I have to run out. They found a floater in the Hudson, washed up about an hour ago."
Lionel exited the building for his police cruiser as Carter stared at the package, ripping into the nondescript envelope. She upturned it, a crucifix slipping into her hand. She held the necklace up to the light examining it closely. For some reason, it looked familiar. Suddenly, she realized the last time she saw the simple silver cross necklace, it had been around Natalie Jacobsen's neck. As she turned it over and over again in her hand, she stopped, slipping her fingernail into a groove that suddenly released a hinge. The necklace pulled apart revealing what appeared to be a tiny flash drive. Carter released a breath and rifled through her bag, pulling out her burner phone. "Finch, we need to meet," she said into the phone.
Carter quickly hailed a cab and was at the Library within the hour, after taking a few detours to make sure she wasn't followed. As she ascended the stairs, she catalogued everything they knew about Natalie. When she called Finch had pulled the precinct's security video and confirmed that Natalie herself had left the flash drive at the desk for Carter. If Carter was a betting woman, she would put her money on Natalie running. She was leaving town, but Carter knew that the FBI had yet to uncover the extent of HR and Alonzo Quinn's reach. Carter wasn't convinced that leaving the City would offer Natalie any true protection, especially if they believed that she still had something they wanted.
"Finch," Carter called.
"In here, Detective," Finch replied as he set down a stack of books.
"Finch, do you have a new number?" Carter asked, concern on her face.
"It appears so, Detective. Two numbers to be precise: Laszlo and Peter Yogorov. I've sent John and Ms. Shaw to locate Laszlo. Peter Yogorov is being transferred back to Albany today for safekeeping until the trial. He has entered his plea. I suspect his transfer is why we now have their numbers. " Pausing for a moment before seating himself at his desk, Finch asked "Do you have the flash drive?" Carter reached into her pocket and deposited the small flash drive in Finch's outstretched hand.
Harold wasted no time inserting in into his laptop and scrolling through its contents. After a few minutes, Harold broke the silence. "This is very good, top-level government encryption. It appears that at first glance, it is some kind of exit strategy with an extensive network of contacts, domestic and international." Carter leaned over Finch's shoulder squinting at the data on the screen. She was unable to decipher anything. "It will take some time, Detective, to actually determine who any of the people referenced are. They all clearly have code names, but after a cursory look, I would suspect that our main player is using the code name Achilles."
"And this is most likely Quinn's get out of jail free card," Carter said softly. "Any more luck with locating Natalie, Finch?"
"I'm afraid not, Detective," Finch said somberly.
"I was thinking, if she really was leaving town, there is somewhere she would have gone before she left." Harold turned to face her, pushing his glasses more securely on his nose. "She would have gone to say goodbye," Carter stated.
Realizing where she was going with her train of thought, Finch asked, "Where was Officer Laskey buried?"
"St. Mary's," she responded as she watched Finch refocus on his computer screen. She paused as archived footage of the cemetery popped up on Finch's screen. She recognized the figure and glanced at the date: November 20, 2013. The image of John Reese crouched at her grave made her shiver. As quickly as the image appeared, Harold closed the screen and began scrolling through footage from the last few hours. Both gaped when they saw Natalie walking through the darkened graveyard. She paused as headlights caught a look of terror on her face. Suddenly, the camera went black and Harold realized someone had looped the feed, destroying any further images of Natalie Jacobsen.
Before either could speak, Carter's phone rang. "Carter," she answered brusquely without glancing at her caller ID. She couldn't look away from the image of Natalie's face.
"Carter, it's Fusco. I found our missing school teacher," he said solemnly.
"Don't say it, Lionel," she said as her voice cracked.
"She's my floater Carter. Natalie Jacobsen is dead."
4 hours earlier
Gina Belton walked swiftly through the darkened cemetery, her heeled boots clicking on the wet pavement. As the wind whipped her hair, her umbrella did little to shield her from the rain. Slowing she approached a vehicle parked next to a modest gravestone. The driver's side door opened and a man slammed it closed. In one fluid movement, he opened his umbrella and approached Gina.
"I've cleaned up part of your mess, Gina," Jackson Moss stated as he held up a flash drive in his hand, a ghastly smile on his face.
"Then we're done. Let me go, Jackson. You got what you want," she responded her voice quivering.
"We are far from done Gina. This is only half of what was taken. This is the key that will unlock the encryption for Quinn's exit strategy and reveal all of his associates, domestic and abroad. You now have to find the flash drive with the exit strategy itself, Gina and eliminate any other . . . complications."
"Why does it matter? It's encrypted. If you have the key, then it's useless," she pleaded, turning her back to walk away.
Roughly, Agent Moss grabbed Gina's arm, squeezing it until she cried out in pain. "Any code can be broken with enough time, Gina and the exit strategy is scheduled to be put into action in two days. If that doesn't happen, then Quinn will start yapping to save his own skin and we'll be looking at lengthy prison stints. I will take you down with me," he snarled.
"Why don't you force the girl to tell you where she hid it? She obviously led you to the key. Just let me go, Jackson. Why won't you let me go? We were friends when we were children. Does that mean nothing?" she whispered, meeting his gaze with tear-filled eyes.
"You should have learned a long time ago, Gina, anyone will turn for the right price. As for the girl, she won't be of any more assistance." Nonchalantly, he walked to the back of his black sedan and lifted the trunk lid. Gina stared in horror at the lifeless muddied body of Natalie Jacobsen, harsh red marks marring the skin of her neck. "Take this as a lesson, Gina. I will not tolerate your insubordination. You will follow your instructions to the letter if you don't want to join Ms. Jacobsen in the Hudson."