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Shots Fired, Ch. 2
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Part 2: In which we discover why Dembe was near the trunk of the car, Elizabeth reestablishes distance between herself and Reddington, and Ressler expounds on why Reddington is an untrustworthy rat.
Shots Fired, Part 2
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After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled into the underground garage of the Post Office.
Elizabeth had never been so grateful to see the military guard waiting to escort them.
"Seems they've sent out the welcoming committee." Reddington remarked heartily, as Dembe slowed the car in approach to the sizable group milling ahead of them.
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Thank god. Elizabeth thought to herself, jaw clenched tightly.
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As soon as the vehicle stopped, Elizabeth Keen was out of the car like a shot, slipping Reddington's arm and bolting for freedom.
So what if the sudden movement made her arm and shoulder throb like hell?
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It was worth it.
She was free.
Even Ressler's scowling face was a welcome sight.
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Cradling her injured shoulder with her other hand, Elizabeth made a beeline for the perpetually frowning agent.
"Any news?" she asked quickly, trying to keep her voice even and hide the stress and utter exhaustion she felt.
Elizabeth would do her best to look professional, even though everything in her wanted to sit down on the ground right then and quit.
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Ressler's face looked particularly dark as his eyes flicked between Elizabeth and the car she was quickly retreating from.
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"You need to go to the medic. Now." he waved her past him, his eyes tracking something over her shoulder- Reddington, no doubt- but Elizabeth Keen did not look back to check.
She accepted Ressler's curt dismissal indifferently, a brief nod as she stepped past him, and strode as steadily as she could towards the waiting paramedic crew.
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The medics swarmed her eagerly, buzzing to-and-fro as they checked her for injuries.
Their barrage of questions and prodding provided a needed distraction, keeping Elizabeth from looking back towards whatever was going down between Raymond Reddington and Agent Ressler.
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Elizabeth could hear raised voices, mostly Ressler's, but no- there was Reddington's as well.
She couldn't hear what was being said exactly, but she could guess, the tones made it clear.
Half of Elizabeth was burning to know what was happening; burning to see Ressler confront Reddington, to see anyone call the man out on his utter bullshit behavior...the other half wanted to act above it all, to be indifferent to ACT indifferent, even if it wasn't true.
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Elizabeth compromised, refusing to look back towards the commotion but permitting her thoughts to run freely as the paramedics examined her shoulder.
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.
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The conclusion was that Elizabeth Keen had been lucky, that the shot was a through-and-through to the upper arm; a best case scenario...as far as bullet wounds went.
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She did not feel lucky.
Elizabeth Keen felt muddled.
Indifferent.
With a hint of impatient, bordering on grouchy.
She figured that was reasonable.
She had been shot...
And then harassed.
It had been a long day and it was far from over.
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The end result was 7 stitches for Elizabeth's arm.
The bullet had grazed her. It had been that close.
A seconds delay and Reddington may not have walked away from the meet.
Not that he appreciated that fact.
The medics recommended she come to the hospital for an x-ray of her other shoulder if it kept hurting- it was possible she hurt it in the fall.
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Elizabeth nodded through their suggestions.
She just wanted to go home.
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But first there would have to be a debriefing.
Elizabeth could handle that.
It was fine.
Exactly what she had expected.
Elizabeth had planned out her responses while staring resolutely out the car window. Running through what words she would chose, trying to predict what questions they would ask, all in an effort to ignore Reddington.
Her skin crawled at the memory of his hand against her neck...the look that had passed over his face- Elizabeth forced the thought from her mind.
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Even with her responses pre-planned, the debriefing dragged along.
By the end, Elizabeth was regretting her decision to decline the pain meds the paramedics had offered her. She had wanted to keep her senses about her, but the local anesthetic was wearing off and the ache of her injury was returning fiercer than ever.
Just a little bit longer and you can go home. Elizabeth repeated to herself, Go home and hug Tom and eat something and-
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Elizabeth's train of thought was interrupted when an assistant intercepted her on the way out of the debriefing room.
She was to report immediately to the war room.
Which was perfect.
A totally reasonable request.
Why should Elizabeth expect them to cut her some slack and let her go home?
They had priorities.
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.
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A short detour to her office, closing the blinds and quickly changing into a spare top she kept on hand for situations like this...well, usually it was for when she spilled coffee on herself or had to spend the whole night at the office.
But it would work for this situation as well.
A fresh set of clothes can change your outlook on life. Elizabeth grimly reminded herself, as she gingerly fitted her injured arm through the sleeve and buttoned the shirt up.
She did feel markedly better.
Though she probably still looked like hell, at least she was no longer covered in bloodstains.
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Elizabeth strode into the war room with her head held high.
Confident.
Collected.
Ignoring the dull pulsing ache of her arm and pushing her exhaustion to the back of her mind.
She could handle this.
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The room was its usual collection of organized chaos; computers whirring, desks covered in papers, boards filled with webs of evidence.
Business as usual.
Everyone was there...Reddington included, Elizabeth noted in dark irritation.
The criminal stood with his arms crossed over his suit vest, the smallest of frowns gracing his face. He seemed completely unruffled by the earlier attempt on his life...although Elizabeth noted with idle satisfaction that the jacket of his suit was no where to be seen.
She wondered if her earlier wish had come true.
A small revenge, of sorts.
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It appeared that Aram had acquired the surveillance footage from the café.
The other members of the FBI team were gathered in a semi-circle around his computer, watching the incident at the coffee shop replay on the screen.
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Reddington stood to the left, a little apart from the others.
Agent Ressler stood in the center, hands on his hips and a glare of concentration creasing his forehead as he hovered over Aram's shoulder watching the screen.
AD Cooper was beside him, frowning as he watched the glass shatter in the video.
Agent Malik was to his right, arms crossed and her face serious as she tracked the action on the screen, watching Elizabeth and Reddington hit the floor.
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Feeling oddly self-conscious, Elizabeth approached them.
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As she walked towards them Reddington's eyes rose to meet hers.
Elizabeth's eyes flicked away quickly, pretending not to see him and choosing to stand beside Agent Malik.
Ignoring the obvious space left between Agent Ressler and Raymond Reddington.
A space no doubt designed for her.
A space she normally would not have hesitated to occupy.
The space it was her job to fill, as the go-between for the FBI and Raymond Reddington.
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But for now, Elizabeth Keen needed a break.
She needed her own space.
She certainly did not need to be any nearer to Raymond Reddington than was avoidable.
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"Debriefing finished, Agent Keen?" The AD Cooper asked, turning towards her.
It was more of a statement than a question, as she had been directed to report back after she was released from debriefing.
Elizabeth bit back whatever resentment was rearing its head within her.
This was part of the job, she could do her job.
Cooper's eyes swept her up and down, stern and evaluating.
Elizabeth squared her shoulders and tried not to look as exhausted as she felt.
"Yes, sir." she replied, her voice calm, not betraying anything she felt.
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"A bit unnecesary, since you have the video, right here." Raymond Reddington chimed in, uninvited.
The video in question was being replayed once more, the footage moving frame by frame in slow motion.
Harold Cooper ignored the criminal in his midst, though his irritation was evident in his face.
Reddington took the silence as license to continue speaking, and obliged the assistant director.
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"I honestly don't understand why we're all still here."
"Someone came very close to killing you." Agent Malik stated, one eyebrow quirking upwards as she turned her attention away from the video and towards Reddington.
"A situation which is now thoroughly under control." Reddington replied.
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"Under control? The shooter got away!" Agent Ressler snapped, "And your contact disappeared."
"I'm sure Louis didn't go far," Reddington responded glibly, strolling to stand in front of Elizabeth Keen.
"Lizzie, nice of you to join us again. I thought they would send you home."
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If there had not been a desk behind her, Elizabeth would have stepped back.
He was too close for comfort.
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Oh, it was an appropriate distance.
A good two and a half feet remained between them.
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But with Raymond Reddington it made no difference.
The man had a way of making such an ordinary exchange of small talk seem oddly intimate.
He could be unsettling at the best of times, but after the days events...
Definitely too close.
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Uneasy, but with few options, Elizabeth remained silent.
Hoping his attention would turn elsewhere.
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It didn't.
Reddington smiled at her genuinely, acting as though they were alone in the room.
"How is the shoulder?
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Had he moved closer, or was that just in her head?
"It's fine." Elizabeth answered, her voice flat but steady.
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His eyes flickered over her face, reading her, searching for something.
Elizabeth made sure to keep her mask in place, keeping her disquiet to herself as she met his gaze and stood firm.
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With another wide smile, Reddington took another half-step towards her- for real this time, she hadn't imagined it- gesturing amiably and speaking as though they were old friends.
"I know this wonderful doctor who would be happy to see you. He owes me a favor. I promise he's much more trustworthy than Abraham proved to be."
"It's fine." Elizabeth answered firmly, a hint of steel in her voice as she cut him off, trying to redirect the conversation. "We need to focus on capturing whomever it was that went after you."
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That did not seem to be the answer he was looking for, -Elizabeth swore she saw a flicker of a frown cross Reddington's face- but it had the desired effect; Raymond Reddington stepped back, shaking his head apologetically.
"Well, we all have our priorities."
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Clasping his hands behind him, Reddington moved away from Elizabeth, ambling around the room at a slow pace, seeming lost in thought.
While Elizabeth was relieved to have a healthy distance restored between herself and the criminal wandering aimlessly amongst the gathered FBI agents, Reddington's silence (and his sudden need for a stroll) did not sit well with the already impatient team of agents.
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"Do you know who took a shot at you?" Harold Cooper finally asked in exasperation, breaking the silence.
"I have my suspicions." Reddington replied casually, continuing his stroll around the room, pausing briefly to inspect a part of the evidence boards. That was all he said, allowing silence to gather in the room once again.
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Elizabeth realized that Reddington had no doubt been similarly uncooperative the entire time she had been in debriefing.
Responding to the FBI's questions with non-answers, or no answers at all.
His usual M.O.
Infuriatingly almost-helpful, but never quite.
She felt a twinge of sympathy for the tired faces around her.
While her day had been a nightmare, the rest of their's was certainly no cakewalk.
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"Suspicions?" Donald spoke up again, stepping towards Reddington, his irritation and disdain evident in his tone. "It's obvious that your contact set you up. Louis, whatever his real name is, he sold you out. He almost got you- got Agent Keen- killed!"
Reddington glanced at Ressler for a moment before turning on his heel to face AD Cooper once again.
"Donald is right, Harold."
That was surprising to hear, coming from Reddington.
But not as surprising as what came next.
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A commotion sounded in the hallway, and everyone -except Reddington, of course- turned in surprise to see Dembe arrive, surrounded by an armed escort of guards...dragging a familiar, if barely recognizable, face along with him.
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Louis looked far worse for wear than when Elizabeth had last seen him.
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Elizabeth felt an eery sense of deja vu.
Louis looked much like Tom had after Zamani had gotten to him.
His face bloodied and his gaze unsteady.
Louis kept his eyes fixed to the floor, refusing to look at any of them.
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Elizabeth's eyes flicked uncertainly towards Reddington.
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The entire room was staring at Raymond Reddington, but the concierge of crime seemed entirely unphased by both the attention and the state of the new arrival in their midst.
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"Now, Dembe has already acquired all the relevant information from my dear friend Louis," Raymond Reddington announced unceremoniously, gesturing briefly towards the beaten man before them.
"But I'm sure you all would like to try your own hand at him."
Reddington shot a look in Meera Malik's direction.
"That's your division, isn't it?"
With a grim smile, Reddington turned indifferently away from the man crumpled on the ground in front of him and met Elizabeth Keen's eyes from across the room.
Her expression of mixed shock, disbelief, and disgust had no effect on his own visage.
Reddington was remorseless.
He held Elizabeth's disapproving gaze in challenge.
Daring her to speak against him, to speak against his actions.
His eyes held no regret, and Elizabeth looked away first, unable to stomach the man staring back at her.
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Unable to sort out her feelings on the matter.
On what Reddington had done to Louis...amongst other things.
This entire day was too much for Elizabeth. What did they expect from her?
What was he expecting from her? Approval?
Or something else...
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"You've had him this whole time?" Ressler burst out angrily, rounding on Reddington. "We've wasted manpower looking for him-"
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Elizabeth was grateful that someone had spoken up so quickly, shifting Raymond Reddington's attention away from her once more.
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"I'm not surprised. Most of what your agency does is a waste, Donald." Reddington chided, his attention sliding coldly past Agent Ressler to focus on AD Harold Cooper.
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"I think that is quite enough fun for tonight, don't you, Harold?"
A look passed between the two of them, and AD Cooper looked away first.
"Take him away." The assistant director ordered gruffly to the armed guards.
They moved quickly to remove the pitiful looking Louis from Dembe's unaffected custody.
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"There is nothing more to be done, for the moment." Reddington declared to the room at large, gesturing amiably to the lot of them.
"I think we all deserve a rest."
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Elizabeth felt his attention turn to her, felt Reddington's eyes slipping over her, evaluating her, as he spoke.
"Agent Keen, can we offer you a ride home? You must be tired, it's been a grueling day."
Not what she wanted to hear.
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"I'll manage." Elizabeth replied evenly, meeting his gaze stonily, bristling but refusing to react further.
Fat chance in hell, Reddington.
She wasn't going anywhere with him anytime soon.
Her hostility may have shown through her tone of voice a tinge more than Elizabeth had meant it to.
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A flicker of something- Elizabeth didn't have time to decipher what- passed over Reddington's face before he flashed her a big smile.
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It didn't reach his eyes.
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In that moment, Elizabeth was glad to be standing standing between Agent Ressler and Agent Malik.
She was glad to have AD Cooper nearby.
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She was desperately glad she was not alone with the man- with the criminal- standing across from her.
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Elizabeth resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself as comfort against the dark chill that spread over her.
She couldn't let Reddington see how affected she was.
How he was intimidating her...here, of all places.
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"Suit yourself." Reddington's voice was pleasant, indifferent.
But his eyes were cold.
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Elizabeth needed to snap out of it. This wasn't like her.
She was brave. Fearless.
But right now, she was shaken.
This whole day; the assassination attempt, her near miss with the bullet...Reddington...it all had her rattled.
Elizabeth just hoped she hid it well enough.
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Lifting his fedora from where it sat on a nearby desk, Reddington placed it on his head and casually strode from the room.
"I'll see you all tomorrow."
Dembe gave her a brief nod before following Reddington out of the room, a silent shadow as usual.
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Reddington's parting words hung in the air as the FBI agents remained standing where they were, each momentarily absorbed in their own thoughts.
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AD Cooper moved first, straightening up and snapping back into his role.
"Agent Keen, you're going home. Get some rest. Ressler?"
The blond agent nodded back at him.
"I'll make sure she gets there."
"Good. Malik, you handle the informant."
"It shouldn't be a problem. Reddington's people seem to have shook him up for us already."
"I want to know what Reddington knows. No more surprises come tomorrow, understood?"
Silent agreement hung in the air, though Elizabeth felt like they all doubted the goal was achievable.
"Let's move people." Cooper snapped in finality before stalking out of the war room.
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The car ride was silent for most of the way.
Tense, at least on Agent Ressler's part.
He had the air of a man who wanted to say something but did not know where to start, and Elizabeth was not inclined to help him out.
She stared out the window, her good arm wrapped across her chest, her thumb rubbing gently against the bandage on her shoulder.
Elizabeth ignored him, willing Ressler not to bring it up.
To not broach the subject they both knew he wanted to talk about.
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The GPS chimed out directions and Elizabeth calculated the remaining distance in her head, weighing her chances of making it home before Ressler collected his words enough to start.
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"How's your arm?"
Nope, no such luck.
Elizabeth grimaced, rallying her remaining strength for the conversation to come.
"It's fine. It just grazed me." She stated flatly, foolishly hoping Ressler would leave it at that.
Allow them to lapse back into silence. If only...
"That was close." Ressler seemed prepared to bulldoze through the niceties, gaining steam as he went.
"The medics say I was lucky."
Drop it, don't bring it up. Elizabeth wished earnestly, accidentally catching Agent Ressler's eyes in the rear-view mirror.
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He looked away first.
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"You already made your official report?"
"Yes."
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A beat of silence as Ressler searched for a way to ask his real question, an uncharacteristically thoughtful move for him.
She knew what he was fishing for, but Elizabeth did not feel like cooperating.
She just wanted to put it all behind her.
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"What happened in the car, Keen?"
It was about as tactful as Donald Ressler got.
"It's in the report."
"Keen." Ressler snapped at her, frustration at her clipped responses obvious in his tone. "What really happened. Not whatever whitewashed report you fed them."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't give me that Keen, I was on the other side of that earpiece, what happened?"
Elizabeth frowned, averting her eyes out her own window.
.
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"Reddington took the earpiece."
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"And you let him?" Donald's voice was accusing, provoking Elizabeth to snap back angrily.
"I didn't have a choice in the matter."
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She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
Shit.
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If she hadn't seemed weak before...
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Her words hung between them, and Elizabeth scrambled to find a way to recover from her mistake.
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"What happened in the car, Keen?" Ressler's voice was low and serious, with just a hint of anger.
"Did he, did he threaten you?"
A further, unspoken question hovered at the end of that line.
A question that hit too close to home for Elizabeth.
It rankled.
"I can handle myself." Elizabeth snapped back, the words bitter in her mouth.
Angry silence stretched between them.
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"Reddington is a dangerous man." Ressler stated finally.
"I know that." Elizabeth ground out in response, still refusing to look back at him.
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"I may not...like...profiling." Ressler said the word as if it was diststeful, "But I can tell you this, Keen, from my years tracking him, Reddington is not a good person. He isn't like you or me. If a situation will work to his advantage, he will seize it without a second thought. Collateral damage is not a consideration. "
"You don't need to tell me this. I know.
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"You jumped in front of a bullet for him-"
"The FBI needs him," Elizabeth interrupted, "You would have done the same-"
"I know." Ressler's turn to snap at her now. "We both would have. It's who we are. But Raymond Reddington."
He shook his head derisively.
"His only sense of duty, his only sense of loyalty, is to himself. He may act like a friend but you can't trust him, because-"
"-because he'll turn on you." Keen finished for him, staring out her window.
"...Right." Donald amended, seeming unsettled that she had agreed with him.
"Don't forget that, Keen."
"I won't." she murmured, staring forlornly at the sidewalks as they drove past.
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They lapsed into silence for the remained of the drive.
It may have stretched awkwardly between them, but at the moment Elizabeth was too tired, too physically and mentally exhausted, to care.
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The car slowed to a stop in front of her home, and Elizabeth unbuckled her seat wordlessly, opening the door and stepping to the curb. She muttered a quick "thanks for the ride" as she closed the door, her eyes sticking to the sidewalk as she walked towards the steps of her house, moving slowly, her feet as heavy as her thoughts.
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A shout made her stop,
"Keen!"
She turned back to the car to see Ressler frowning after her, the window rolled halfway down. "I'm glad you're okay."
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She mustered a small smile, raising her uninjured arm up for a small goodbye wave.
Donald Ressler nodded gruffly, at her or at himself, Elizabeth couldn't tell.
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The car idled where it stood, Ressler was apparently taking his job very seriously, ensuring she got all the way home, waiting to see her step through the door.
It made Elizabeth smile despite herself.
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The two of them may have had their disagreements, but knowing he was there, Elizabeth climbed the steps a little easier.
-END-
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Author's Note:
Bam! It's done! (Thank goodness!) It took longer than expected to finish, but I'm happy with the final product.
Thank you so much for reading! And for all the reviews! They are much appreciated!
This 2nd part ended up with more Reddington than originally planned (not that anyone is complaining), so that was an interesting twist.
Reddington had Louis in the trunk of the car the whole time, courtesy of Dembe catching the rat when he ran out of the café.
All in all, Louis got off easy...for now at least. Whoever hired him has an unpleasant surprise heading their way.
Darker Red is scary, and (our still shocked) Elizabeth is scrambling to reestablish distance between them, something Reddington does not seem to appreciate.
Talk about a long day, amiright? But Lizzie finally made it home.
That's the end of this story, I hope you enjoyed it!