Chapter 2
Kat woke much earlier than she would normally have on a Saturday morning. Typically, she would sleep until she couldn't ignore any longer the sun's bright rays shining down on her through the bedroom window, but not this morning. She looked over at the clock; it was almost six thirty. She jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. She washed her long hair and took extra care when drying and combing it out until it was smooth and shining. She swept it back and put on some makeup. She didn't go all out, only because this was a morning date, not an evening date but she still made up her eyes. She loved putting on the extra little finishing touches that she didn't...wouldn't do when she went to work. It was hard enough being taken seriously as a woman in the construction business but to put on makeup and try to look feminine would have made it even harder, even being the owner the damn company.
Kat stepped back from the mirror and surveyed the first layers of her look and was satisfied. She walked back into her bedroom and slipped on her dress and sweater. She glanced at the clock; it was almost eight. She figured she'd leave early and be able to have a few minutes to make sure she was calm before Reese...before John that is, got there. She put on her shoes and grabbed a little purse that she could wear across her chest like a tiny messenger bag, to carry her wallet in. She wasn't going to take her gun to her date. Plus she really didn't need it during the day or while she was with HIM. Based on the little she knew of John Reese, she suspected he was never without his gun. She grabbed her wallet and cell, threw them into her purse and locked her door as she stepped out into the hall and down to the street.
It only took Kat fifteen minutes to get to The Coffee Pot. She liked this place. The lines were never long like at the Starbucks a block away and the coffee was infinitely better. She also liked the atmosphere better. There were several nice couches, all leather, some comfy looking chairs, tables scattered here and there and a little stage for the occasional live band. It was a nice place to come in the evenings when a local band was scheduled. It was never over-crowded but even when it was busy, she'd never felt uncomfortable like in some other places she'd been out to with her friends. She just didn't enjoy the club scene anymore. She would much rather spend time with friends in a place where she could hear herself think and where every other guy wasn't trying to get into her pants.
She walked up to the counter and ordered a simple mocha latte. When the barista handed it to her, she asked Kat if she needed anything else. Kat went ahead and ordered a cinnamon scone since she still had about a half hour before John arrived. She went to one of the tables up near the front and sat down to wait. The scone was delicious and so was the coffee. From her table she could people-watch through the large front window and of course watch for him. The closer it got to nine, the more she felt her stomach flip-flopping around inside her. 'Butterflies...HA'! Nothing that small and delicate could feel as intense as her insides felt at the moment. She wasn't even sure why...she'd been on plenty of dates and even some blind dates and none of them had made her this nervous. Deep down, she knew why but she wasn't about to let her mind entertain the notion at the moment...
She looked at the clock again, five after nine. She frowned but didn't start worrying yet. Not everyone was as freakish about being on time as her; she'd been kept waiting before.
She got up to throw away her napkins and the now empty cup and grabbed a magazine before she sat back down at her table. She allowed herself to become immersed in the article about some little starlet who was having issues with drug addiction. When she couldn't take the poor writing and the even worse pictures anymore, she looked at the clock again saw it was almost ten. She sighed and closed the magazine, went to put it back into the rack and walked out the door. She couldn't believe he'd stood her up. John didn't really seem like the type of man that made plans and then didn't show. Kat ran through the conversation from last night as she walked down the sidewalk back home. He had definitely said The Coffee Pot and confirmed the location. He had said nine... Wait a minute, she thought. He had said nine, but he hadn't specified am or pm...she had just assumed he meant in the morning. Maybe he had meant nine in the evening? The thought had her smiling, that maybe, just maybe she hadn't been stood up after all. She had a bounce back in her step by time she got back home again. She was going to get dressed up and be back at the coffee shop at nine and hopefully meet John then. She wouldn't let herself think that she'd had the time right this morning...she would stay positive until she was proven otherwise...
~~~~~~~Last Night~~~~~~~~
John got little Jim to a bodega just down the street so he could use "the potty" and then returned the boy promptly to his father. When John got back to his apartment and finally stepped into the steaming hot shower, his mind turned to the woman who had helped him so efficiently...Kat. The thought brought a smile to his face.
Where had she come from? Where did she learn how to fight like that? From the little he'd seen, her moves were military based, but she was most certainly not in the service. She intrigued him; a beautiful woman, who could handle herself in a fight. But there was something else about her...he'd been around plenty of beautiful women, Detective Carter, Dr. Tillman, Zoe, that sick and twisted Turing, aka "Root", and he hadn't been tempted...not once, to ask any of them out. He bowed his head into the spray, allowing the water to wash the sweat and dust from the earlier fight off of his body. He also hoped that it would allow some clarity to his thoughts on Kat. The hot water was like a caress to his sore muscles, running in rivulets down his neck, chest, back, and finally down to his legs. Instead of clarity, the relaxing nature of the water brought on different kinds of thoughts about the woman.
Her long, dark, auburn hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. He imagined reaching back and sliding the holder down, freeing the silky strands so that he could run his fingers through it. Then he threaded his fingers through it again and closed his hands. He used them to pull her head gently back so that her face was turned up towards his. Her eyes shone up at him, but he couldn't tell what color they were. He hadn't been able to see...it had been just a bit too dark. He would find out tomorrow... Her eyes shone up at him and her mouth parted as he leaned down to take her lips with his...
'What the hell!' He thought. He'd known the woman for less than an hour. He shouldn't be thinking of her like that! But God help him, he wanted to think of her like that. It had been SO long since his mind had turned to those types of thoughts about a woman. He shook his head as he grabbed the shampoo bottle. He squeezed some out into his hand and started massaging the foamy liquid onto his hair...his thoughts unwittingly turned back to Kat again. Her fingers were running over his scalp and then drifting down his neck and across his shoulders. They slid slowly down past his shoulder blades, down the curve of his spine, until they reached his... John shook his head again and quickly flipped the hot water handle 'off' and stepped further into the water as it quickly turned to freezing. It did what he intended it to do. He rinsed the shampoo from his hair and the rest of his body and turned water completely off. He grabbed the towel off the rack and dried faster than he normally would have as he got out of the shower. He wrapped the towel around his waist and headed straight his bed where he collapsed and fell asleep almost immediately.
When John woke the next morning, it was to his cell phone ringing insistently. He glanced at the screen and groaned. He pressed the little green button to connect the call. Ever since Finch had been kidnapped by Root two weeks ago, he had been contacted by the Machine through his secure cell. The same way that John had seen Harold contacted about Henry Peck's number except that now, the Machine was contacting John directly to let him know when a new number had come in.
John got out of bed and walked over to the computer on his table and pressed a key, which woke the computer up and then he typed in his password to access the machine. This was something else that had changed since Finch had been taken. After the strange call from the payphone in which a computerized voice had told him to go back to the library, he'd gone back to collect all of the computers and the "black box", as he had started to refer to the case that held the 'backdoor' mainframe to the Machine as he'd been told to. He'd sat down in Finch's chair and pressed a key. The monitors immediately jumped to life and a box had popped up asking for the new password. He'd stared at it for several minutes before entering a ten character password. He hadn't been sure what it would do or if it would work, but it did. Several things began scrolling across the monitors and the printer started beeping and then paper started moving into it and spitting back out not only a picture of a man but a copy of his driver's license, his work history, and several other documents. John didn't know what he was supposed to do; he felt...lost. Finch had always directed their conversation regarding a new number...which is what John assumed this information was for. He sat for a few more minutes before he started looking over the printouts in earnest. He could do this...and would; for Harold. He couldn't, in good conscience, let something happen to someone else while he was searching for Harold. John would continue his job as he searched for him. It was the least he could do, giving someone else the second chance at life just as Harold had given him his.
John had ended up finding the man, a George Stanfield, whose number had come up. He had even worked with both Carter and Fusco to take down Mr. Stanfield, who was one of Elias's men on the outside. Mr. Stanfield had been stalking a woman, Katherine Greyson for quite some time. The woman owned Greyson Family Construction and the reason she had been targeted was because she had been hired for several jobs that were in Elias's territory. Apparently, Elias had not taken kindly to the idea of not being able to oversee the permits control what was able to be built and where and was especially put out about losing the money involved in granting the permits. John had never seen the woman in person, he had only heard her name mentioned in the conversations that he'd overheard between Elias and Stanfield. Elias was extremely adamant about the woman taking an extended visit to see her parents. Stanfield had laughed at that and had asked how long her dearly departed parents had been gone. John had immediately emailed a copy of the recording to Carter and sent Fusco out to the construction site where Ms. Greyson had been working, while John had met up with Stanfield. He'd made quick work of taking down the man less than a block from the site and happily handcuffed him and delivered him to Fusco. The whole operation had run incredibly smooth for being the first one that he'd handled without Harold.
After that, he had packed up everything in the main room, along with the black box and all of his weapons stash and loaded it all into the second Lincoln that Harold had kept on hand, just for emergencies. John deemed this an emergency situation. He took it all to his apartment and set it back up there. He was not sure if the library had been compromised or not, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He had had an overwhelming sense of panic when he booted everything up for the first time but in seconds all of the monitors were again coming to life. John had worked two numbers in the two weeks following; both victims, which made John feel all the better about pulling himself together and working the numbers while still searching fiercely for Harold.
He'd been out on several leads that had come from information provided by the Machine but each time John thought that he had narrowed down Harold's location, he came up short. It was so frustrating, and he was beginning to understand how Harold felt before he had found John. He was also frustrated that the Machine would not come right out and tell him where Harold was.
Bringing himself back to the present, John booted things up and made a quick cup of coffee as today's number had been printed. John sighed. He'd really been looking forward to seeing Kat again this morning, had been dreaming about it almost all night in fact, a welcome change from the nightmares that often took over his dreams. He tried not to worry about the fact that she would think he was a jerk and that he'd stood her up. He should have gotten her number last night! Jim's timing had been terrible. He was elated when she had agreed to meet at The Coffee Pot at...wait, he'd told her nine o'clock, but he hadn't specified AM or PM! So, there was a chance, a small one, that he might still be able to meet up with her tonight, if this case was quick. Damn, he'd MAKE it quick! He knew he had a responsibility to Harold and the numbers, one he took very seriously, but he had been wishing for quite some time for a bit more of a normal life. He knew a family would be impossible in his line of work but he couldn't help wishing for someone to share things with; someone with whom he could be just John and not Mr. Reese, the ex-CIA operative and killer. Another part of his brain realized that whomever that woman was, just being with him would put her in danger. He wasn't sure if he could do that to another woman, but... then again, leaving Jessica hadn't helped HER in the end. In fact his leaving had had just the opposite effect! So, perhaps, just perhaps, if he could find someone who could take care of herself and he was careful and extra protective of her, he MIGHT just be able to have a relationship...
He shook himself out of his reverie and looked at the information the Machine had given him about this latest number. He memorized all the information including the man's place of employment... wait...wasn't that the same prison where Elias was currently being held? Thomas Becker worked at the Lincoln Correctional Facility in Manhattan. He'd been a corrections officer for ten years now. Once again, Reese wished that Harold was here to provide him with more information. If only Reese could get into Becker's financial records, he might be able to tell if he was being paid for some less than legitimate work. Well, there was no hope for it, he'd have to investigate this the hard way. So he got dressed, grabbed Detective Still's badge and drove over to the prison to question Becker. Perhaps a visit with Elias might not be a bad idea either, he'd been trained to read people during his days with the CIA and while his track record with Elias wasn't the best, he DID think he was becoming more and more familiar with the way the man's mind worked.
Arriving at the prison, Reese was just signing in when an alarm sounded. Instinctively, he reached for his gun in the waistband of his pants, only to realize he'd given it up. No firearms were allowed inside the prison. 'Fuck! This has to be Elias!' Reese swore to himself. To make matters worse, as standard procedure, Reese along with several lawyers servicing the inmates, were locked down until the emergency was identified. The lawyers milled around, speculating as to the nature of the emergency, but Reese just paced back and forth in front of the barred door, waiting. Finally, thirty minutes later, the doors opened and an officer escorted them to the main entrance. Another officer brought Reese his gun and told everyone that there was a situation in the prison and that for their own safety, they were not going to be allowed inside the prison today.
Reese was just approaching his car when his cell rang. Looking at the caller ID, he recognized the number of the phone he had once given Carter.
"Yes, Detective?"
"I just got a call from Lincoln Correctional Facility. You might want to meet me over there. Apparently our friend Elias has escaped. They called me since I was the arresting officer."
"I'm already on it Carter. I'll meet you here AFTER you find a safe place for your son. Elias took him once, he just might do it again as revenge for your putting him in prison."
"I already have Fusco taking him to a safe house. I'll meet you there in twenty minutes."
Once Carter arrived, it became clear that Reese's help would be unnecessary. The warden had taken a head count and already come to the conclusion Thomas Becker had been the one who helped Elias escape due to the fact that he was the only one of the officers missing. Since he was still wanted by just about every law enforcement agency, Reese would of little use to Carter in figuring out just how Elias had escaped. Instead, he told Carter he'd look around the area and see if he was able to pick up Elias's trail.
Reese walked around the prison in ever increasing circles, looking in alleys and abandoned buildings for any sign of Elias or Becker. It wasn't until late afternoon, that he stumbled across the body. He immediately called Carter up to inform her of the whereabouts of Becker's body. The man had been shot once between the eyes. 'So much for loyalty', Reese thought. He straightened up and decided that he'd done enough for the day. His number was both the perp and victim in this case and with Elias once more out on the street, Reese knew most of his days would now be spent saving people from Elias's organization. Determined to enjoy one last evening of freedom from the constant assault of the numbers, Reese hurried home to get ready to meet Kat, praying all the while that she would be there.