SuDo Madhouse

by BigBJ

To others Hanna Frey is what she wants others to see, but Sam is the only one that sees her true side. However, given that Hanna has reincarnated into multiple dimensions and universes, it's no wonder that she might have a few screws loose. Follow the adventures of Hanna and Samantha throughout their life. OC-SI into Hanna Frey, A journey of damnation and maybe redemption.

28. Chapter 28: It's a deal

HAROLD FINCH POV

"Thank you." Harold said to the extremely disgruntled corrections officer as the man opens the door into small private room. It's a change from the usual visiting room, but that's for general visitations.

The door closes behind him as Harold takes a seat by the lone table in the middle of the room. Across from Harold, there's a door which he can safely assume leads into the prison housing area.

Hopefully, this isn't too sudden, and he doesn't have to wait for too long because Harold feels that he doesn't have too much time left before this situation devolves into something Harold would like to prevent. The quick brief about the Collective by Miss Shaw paints them as a group he shouldn't trifle with without a proper plan and that's what they're doing right now.

The unknown is truly terrifying.

At least there wasn't any excitement in the drive to Rickers, even if Harold was a bundle of nerves while driving due to him being overly cautious in coming here.

He knew coming here was extremely risky just as John told him, but something deep inside of him doesn't want to have that woman involve in this. Harold knows it's quite easy for him to find a way to get in touch with that woman; she left such an easy trail for him to follow that he knows it's intentional.

It's completely illogical and goes against every rational thought in him to not contact her, but he just can't… not yet, not until there's no other choice.

Regardless, he had some time to himself to think about this new entity while on the way here. He was shaken right through his core at the thought of a malicious actor that knows about the machine. Sure, the government isn't the best and the people who planted that virus are dangerous, but Harold doesn't think that any agency in the government or that group have a countermeasure to counter the machine.

God, he didn't even know it was possible to create countermeasures against an all seeing and all hearing AI. The amount of resources and effort it takes to do it is mind-boggling. And for this Collective to have flown under the radar until now… it's unsettling.

Part of him wants to inform the government about this threat to the country and, more importantly to people's lives, but he can't trust the government… not after Nathan. Interestingly enough, despite Miss Shaw being the most informed person about this subject and was working for ISA up until a few months ago, didn't inform her superiors about this tells him that they don't believe her claims.

Not that he can blame them… it's almost too fantastical, but he can't ignore evidence and facts that told him otherwise.

His train of thought was interrupted when the door opposite of him opens revealing a very displeased Elias and a correctional officer that's leading him from behind.

There's a look of surprise on Elias when the man registered that Harold is sitting on the chair and not the actual person that was registered to be here. Elias gives the correctional officer a look and a nod as they walk forward.

Like usual, the officer uncuffed Elias after sitting the man down and left the room, leaving the two of them alone. Except for the CCTV and the false glass window, but Harold is quite assured it's empty due to the influence Elias has in prison.

"Good morning, Finch. I didn't know you were a detective." Elias says with his usual pleasant smile after the door closes behind him. "I'm guessing Detective Williams is a ruse and you don't need me in your investigation?"

"Good morning, Elias. Apologies for disturbing your sleep so early in the morning." Harold says politely. While it's true that Elias has been nothing but courteous during their chess games, Elias is still a very violent man.

Elias waves his hands dismissively. "No, it's fine. I'm an early sleeper."

Silence befall them as Harold tries to articulate what he needs to ask, but there's something in the back of his mind that says a belligerent party is looking through the CCTV.

"I think it might be a bit early for a game of chess, don't you think?" Elias says with a smile as he leans forward. "Don't worry, we're alone. I had a good officer turn off the feeds."

Harold eye's darts away from the camera and look at Elias's confident face.

Might as well ask directly… "What do you know about Collective Service Solutions and Francine Pauling?"

Elias' eyes widen with surprise, seemingly caught off guard by the question, but then his face slowly morphed to one of concern. Whether it's genuine concern or mock, Harold can't say.

Elias leans closer. "Do you remember our first conversation?"

"I can't say I do." Harold shakes his head. He remembers that he came here for Elias' assistance on George Massey, but he can't remember the exact details of said conversation. So many things have happened since then that he can't keep track of every little detail.

"I said the people who stay in the background are the people you have to watch out for." Elias says with a slight frown on him.

"Indeed." Harold nods. He now remembers that conversation and Harold's answer is still the same as before.

Elias smiles for a moment before it is wiped away as he continues. "That's exactly who the Collective are… my advice is that you cut your losses and let them kill whoever they have their sights on, Harold."

"Thank you for your concern, but I can't do that." Harold instantly retorts, then he presses Elias. "If they're so secretive, how did someone like you knew about them a decade ago?"

"As usual, I see that you're well informed." Elias leans back into his seat. "I learned of their existence in the late 90s. You see… criminals, despite their inhered hatred for snitches, love to gossip. The moment they think they have a friendly ear; they won't stop talking. That's how I knew about them. The collective were the fixers for any mob family that's been beaten to a pulp by the feds during the crackdown in the 80s and 90s. It's the reason why so many families from the Pacific to the Atlantic survived to this day. Key witnesses mysteriously die, important evidence went missing, wiretap recordings became corrupt and so much more."

"I quite aware of what these people are capable of." Harold says maintaining his composure.

Elias tilts his head slightly as he smiles again. "Do you? Because I'm not sure you do, Harold. If you did, you wouldn't be here."

He knows what Elias has done, but he still can't help but ask. "Did you use the collective's services to achieve your goal?"

Elias taps the table, then points at Harold. "You know about my agreement with them, don't you?" The mob boss grins at Harold. "No, I didn't use them to kill anyone, if that's you're wondering. Unlike my predecessors, I don't target law enforcement officers or witness just to cover an associate's bad behavior."

"You put a hit on detective Carter." Harold deadpans at his chess partner.

Elias raises his hand in mock surrender. "A lapse of judgement on my part."

"Let's start from the beginning… how did you first contact the collective?" Harold asks.

"It was the summer of 2000. I remember the day as if it was yesterday." Elias smiles. "I had a reference from a friend out in Chicago. They had dealings with the collective in the past and helped me to get in touch with the collective, but it still took me a month before I actually talked to someone in the collective."

Summer of '00? Could it be… "Gary Bidwell?"

Elias raised his brows with intrigue. "No, he became the point man in 2002. By the way, how did you know about Gary?"

"It doesn't matter, is that when you first met Miss Pauling?" Harold brushes aside the man's question.

There's a look on the mob boss's face that Harold can't discern before Elias answers. "Continuing on from before, the person I got into contact with in '00 was a man that goes by Ross Peterson, not his real name, of course. It took me three years before I finally got to talk to the woman in charge."

"Talk?"

Elias nods. "Yes, you almost never meet anyone from the collective. Back then, they mainly communicated through phones. I was apprehensive about it at first, but they always assured me that it's a secure line."

How would they know it's secure? Unless they actually had access to the telco's infrastructure, like he suspected when Mr. Cook described their communication protocols.

Elias continues, "However, it took another two years before I finally met her in person, and she was nothing like I had imagined."

"A short, cheery redhead?" Harold blurts out the description Mr. Cook gave earlier.

Elias's smile widens. "Exactly."

"And that's when you made the agreement where you prevented your competitors from using the collective." Harold concludes.

"Astute as ever." Elias says cheerfully. "If you know about that, then that means you know that my agreement with the collective ended when I took over New York."

"I do." Harold acknowledges. "I also know that you had direct contact with Miss Pauling."

"That's what you want, isn't it Harold? You want to talk to her?" Elias rightfully speculates, as usual.

"Yes, I would like to see if I can put a stop to the hit." Harold elaborates.

Elias's smile dips slightly. "I never pegged you as an optimist, Harold."

"It's more desperation than optimism." Harold confesses.

The mob boss lets out a soft scoff. "I'm sorry to disappoint. My agreement with the collective expired the moment I took control of the city, and I was made persona non grata after. I tried to contact Miss Pauling and Gary a few times since, but they never answer."

He knew that this was a very likely outcome of coming here, but he still had hope and couldn't help feeling disappointed at the outcome.

Now… he has to figure out another way to stop the collective… but how? He could try bringing in the FBI or NYPD into this, but would they even believe allegations? Even if Mr. Cooks collaborates with the law, that doesn't guarantee his safety or everyone that's involved tonight. Not after what Miss Shaw and Elias said.

John was right…

"There still must be a way to contact them." Harold feels desperate to even ask this.

Elias gives him a look of sympathy. "You can try to dial the number that I used, and I can be your reference, but I don't think that would work. Another alternative is using someone else as your reference… The head of the Buffalo crime family is a friend of mine and I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you if I call him."

After several seconds of silence. "Sadly, time isn't on my side for that option. Although thank you for the suggestion."

"You know that I would always use the extent of my power to help a friend in need." There's a serious tone in Elias's voice. "However, in this case, there isn't much I can do. The entity that you're trifling with is bigger than me. I'm a small fish compared to the collective."

Harold felt like the denial and desperation he had throughout the entire conversation withered away and slowly replaced with acceptance. Acceptance of what needed to be done. Although he needs to check if that trail she left is still available, and it's been more than a year since.

Seeing that he's already here might as well get some more information. "Do you know of a person named Milk in the collective?"

Elias was slightly at the mention of that name… interesting and slightly frightening.

"Now that's a name I haven't heard in a while." Elias seems tense. "Milk Consultancy Services was the predecessor of the collective."

Milk Consultancy Services? Again, with corporatist naming scheme… at least they are consistent.

"I had that exact face when I first heard the name." Elias grins and points at Harold. "Same with most people who first heard of that man."

"What do you mean predecessor?" Harold inquires softly.

Elias leans forward as if he's a child trying to share a secret. "Precisely so. Milk made his name in the southern criminal underworld back in the early 90s before spreading his reaches to the rest of the country. According to people I trust, Milk merged with the collective back when it started in the late 90s and all of Milk's clients was transferred to the collective books."

"You're assuming this Milk was the predecessor because both use the same naming scheme, corporate terminologies and clients?" Harold concludes.

"My thoughts exactly. There was never really a formal announcement… well, formal for people who's in our line of work, but the collective got its start from the work Milk did." Elias has a grim look on him.

Harold feels a need to ask. "It seems like you are feeling uneasy about this."

"Well, the man in question is quite the unsavory character. He doesn't care who he kills, be it officers, politicians, completely innocent people, and even children." Elias shifts slightly. "The Kansas City family contracted Milk to get rid of a rat but had explicit instructions not to harm the rat's family. The man went on to kill three US marshals, the rat, and the man's family, youngest of which was 6 years old."

Harold was speechless, and he knew of this event Elias was referencing. The news of the Kansas City Massacre was buried under the news of the WTC bombing that happened a few hours after the massacre. But being a man from Iowa, he tries to keep in touch with news coming from that area of the country.

He remembers the small updates of the investigation, and it was all a dead end. There wasn't any CCTV footage, yet there were cameras surrounding the area. There wasn't any plea for help from the witness, despite having enough time to do so. The bullets matched no known barrel profile, despite the FBI's extensive search. The case was never solved and has since become a conspiracy theory, ranging from the reasonable to the absurd. Now it made sense… the way this Milk person did the deed, it matches the way CSS operates.

"Worst is?" Elias continues. "It wasn't an isolated case. One would think that the families from around the country wouldn't touch Milk for what he did, but… those years made so many people desperate that they were willing to sacrifice innocent lives for their freedom. So, the desperate families kept on using that man's services in snuffing out rats and any unpleasant tasks. For a time, the man became a boogieman like figure, a terror in the night to those who knew of his existence. It had its intended effects. Who would protect them if the government can't. In the end the rats stop coming out the of floorboards out of fear of what would happen to themselves and their loved ones."

That information horrified and appalled Harold. Even for criminals, harming children was beyond the pale, but this man did it multiple times. How could anyone do such a thing?

However… "You trapped a baby in a frozen truck."

Elias bows his head in shame. "It wasn't the greatest choice that I have made, but it was a calculated one, and I knew John would never let anything bad happen to the baby. I would never intentionally hurt a child."

"And yet you still endangered a child's life." Harold presses.

Elias shakes his head. "I would not apologize for the actions I have done. John had information I needed, and the child was leverage. In the end, I'm glad that it hurt no one."

There's no point in arguing with him about this. He's set in his ways. After a few seconds of silence for Harold to process everything, he asks. "Why did you say you haven't heard his name in a long time if he was such a force in the criminal world?"

Elias breathes in sharply. "Because Milk stopped being active towards the end of the 90s and now his name is nothing more than a legend to those who still remember. Heh… The young ones who's started in this business after the tower fell doesn't even know the name anymore."

That collaborates with Mr. Cook's statement of Milk was part of upper management, he could be busy with administrating that organization.

"I've always thought the man retired or died." Elias continues. "That was until I heard rumors in the mid-2000s after I had my agreement with the Collective. Rumors from across the Atlantic of Milk still being active, but this time he isn't involved in the criminal underworld… that he moved on to be a consultant for terrorists."

He can feel his heart clenches at that information.

Oh dear…

"So, the rumors are true then?" Elias utters in a very serious tone. "The collective is involved with terrorism?"

For all the times he let slip his poker face, it's now. He's not sure how much of a danger he has put Elias in, but there are many people who want him dead, and the cat is out of the bag now, so… "Yes."

"Have they done it here?" Elias asks evenly.

Harold just stares at Elias and doesn't say anything, but it still gives the mob boss his answer.

"I see…" Elias nods solemnly. "That will reflect any future dealings I would have with the collective."

"I would recommend that you to avoid them in the future." Harold advises.

"You don't understand the criminal world, Harold. I can't." Elias shakes his head. "We are not civilized people, Harold. We don't follow laws or rules that run civilization, but we are our own rules. Rules that were made by the strongest, the most powerful. Before this, it was The Commission, the five families, the cartel, etcetera- etcetera. But now… Those who want to survive in this world need the Collective's blessing. Everyone gave away a piece of their freedom the moment they became the Collective clients."

That's corroborates with what Mr. Cook said. How have the FBI or any law enforcement never heard of the collective if they're such a force?

"Yet you're still here despite being persona non grata." Harold retorts.

Elias lets out a sardonic chuckle. "I suspect I'm still alive because they find me amusing. The sole reason why I was able to get the Collective in retainer was because they found my ambitions to take down the five families would cause chaos, which was entertaining to them."

So many lives lost for what? For someone's deranged form of entertainment? Even though he thought he had seen how dark humanity can be, some things are still shocking to him.

Based on the limited information he has right now, he can speculate that Pauling is the overall leader of the Collective while Milk and Miss Groves are her deputies. However, it appears that Miss Groves doesn't have all the information that Milk and Pauling have about the machine, hence her mission to find the machine disconnected with the rest of the collective. Meanwhile, Pauling with the help of Milk continues to harass the Machine with terrorist acts and threatens the continuation of the government program.

Shaw will love this information.

Not having anything else to ask, Harold gives Elias a polite nod and stands up. "Thank you for your help, Elias, and I apologize again for disturbing your sleep."

Elias just smiles for a moment before replying. "What kind of person would I be if I don't help out a friend in need? If you need any help, you know where to find me."

Harold gives the mob boss a faint smile and nods again before turning to leave the room.

"One moment Harold…" Elias's voice echoes in the small room, causing Harold to stop. "Gary's the one that you're trying to save, isn't it?"

Harold turns his head and glances at the mob boss. "Yes."

Elias lets out a sigh. "I wish you good luck in your task. Lord knows you need it."

"There's no such thing as luck, only probabilities." Harold turns around and exit the room.

Now it is his responsibility to increase the probability of their survival for the day.

---

JOHN REESE POV

The sun is slowly crawling up into the sky from the horizon as John peeks out of the caged window to check their perimeter. So far there hasn't been any signs of the Collective coming here. Maybe they found in their hearts to stop trying to kill Gary?

Heh, that's too optimistic. It feels like the calm before the storm.

Harold should arrive back soon…

A familiar sound of Shaw grumbling draws his attention from the window and back into the safe house to see a pissed off Shaw coming out of the room.

"You didn't kill our number, did you?" John teases the woman. Despite everything that Shaw has shown to the contrary, he knows she isn't going to kill the man any time soon. Even if he's a bit of an ungrateful asshole.

"The asshole passed out." Shaw grumbles as she makes her way to the kitchen to grab a drink. "How can he even sleep right now?"

John smirks at his temporary partner. "It could be all the painkillers you shoved in him. They make me sleepy."

"It isn't my fault that Finch's doctor didn't think to pack some local anesthetic, and the asshole is a baby when it comes to a needle." Shaw cracks open a cold can of soda as she leans by the dining table near John. "He doesn't even have the decency to stay awake so he can answer more questions."

"What else can he answer?" John asks rhetorically. "He already gave you the names of his colleagues, at least the ones that he know, the base of operations he had used, almost everything he knows about Pauling, which wasn't much, the operational structure of the collective, basically nothing, how he operates in the group, how they handle money, and just how vast their area of operations are." John pauses for a second. "There are a lot of things I can say about the collective, but they sure know how to keep a tight ship."

Shaw doesn't say anything as she sees the merit of his argument and just looks out the caged window as she continues to drink the soda.

"I fucking knew I should have trusted my gut and not dropped my trail on that woman in Philly." Shaw lets out a sigh and puts down the can onto the table.

"Who would have guessed a pyromaniac would run a fire extinguisher company? As screwed up as the collective is. I do, however, appreciate their sense of irony in doing that." John says lightly, trying to brighten up the mood.

Shaw just huffs at his comment and just drinks her soda again.

"You think she's still there?" John asks.

She finishes up her can of soda and tosses it into the trash can that's across the room in one throw. "Doubt it… I'm fucking sure that they knew I was there and were just fucking with me when I trailed that woman."

John glances at Shaw, only to see the neutral face she always has as she stares out of the window. "Don't feel too bad about it."

"I don't feel bad." Shaw glares at John and says in the most neutral voice. "I'm fucking pissed off."

"Think it this way. If you can find that woman through that crappy paper trail, then that means we can find Pauling that way as well." John says encouragingly.

Shaw arches a brow at him. "We?"

"I mean, if we want to survive this, then we need to survive today, then find Pauling and bring her to justice." John explains with a grin on him.

Shaw doesn't look impressed. "You mean kill her, right?"

John hums. "We don't really do that much here, and Harold wouldn't like that."

"God, you're a bunch of boy scouts." Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Speaking of Finch, where the fuck is he?"

He's been working hard to keep it off his thoughts… but his friend knew the risk he's taking when he made the decision to leave this place.

"Maybe he's stuck in traffic?" John shrugs.

Shaw scoffs and looks at her watch. "Really? Traffic at 6:20 am?"

"Hey, what can you say? It's New York traffic." John retorts. Harold should be here already.

"Really?" Shaw deadpans. "John, I lived here for a few years. I know when traffic starts."

John smiles and weakly retorts. "Could be a freak accident?"

Her eyes look up like she's willing the strength to not punch him and said. "We need to do something, anything."

"Didn't you learn 'hurry up and wait' in the corps?" John grins at a glaring Shaw as he pushes himself off the table and walks to the kitchen. "Harold is the only one that knows how to reach Root? The only way for us to track down the collective is the paper trail, and those are in the library. Getting there will be difficult with a man who can't walk properly."

"How do you know Harold is the only one?" Shaw eyes him suspiciously.

John stares back with slight amusement. "Do you know a computer nerd bigger than Harold? If so, that would help."

The former operative doesn't say anything as she continues to eye him, but after a second, her shoulder dips slightly.

"Thought so." John says victoriously.

Shaw groans. "We can't just stay here with thumbs up our butts."

"You can try talking to Gary again if that makes you feel good." John quips as he grabs a cold soda can from the fridge. "Not sure how good that'll do. It's like squeezing water from a stone."

Shaw tilts her head up. "I know he's not telling us everything. I can see it in his eyes. How can the asshole still be loyal to the fuckers who's trying to kill him? Fucking criminals can't even keep their words, and I fixed all of his wounds."

John glances at the woman after finishing his soda. "I mean… You said you were protecting the program that tried to kill you yesterday."

"That's not the same thing." Shaw snaps back. "I'm not some criminal who works for someone that kills for money and the shit of it."

"In a certain point of view, it is." John replies coolly. "What we did to protect the country, the people, were never legal."

"Yeah… well, they're dumb." Shaw mutters as she looks back out the window.

"That doesn't change the morality of our former jobs." John tells the woman. "Look, I'm just as frustrated as you are in our situation, but sometimes all the only things we can do is just wait."

Shaw doesn't even look back at him as she continues to pay attention to the outside world and dismissively says. "Yeah, whatever."

John's focus shifts from Shaw to the small arsenal of guns on the living room table. He should double check everything again, just to pass the time…

RING

RING

There's no signal in here… it's the landline. His eyes snap to the ringing phone on the kitchen counter. Is that Finch?

Just as John reaches out to grab the phone, a sudden shout from Shaw stops him in his tracks.

"Duck!"

In a heartbeat, John hits the deck as the entire room explodes in a fury of glass and bullets. John instantly draws out his gun as he hides behind the kitchen counter. All the while, the phone continues to ring.

After what it feels like an eternity of hellfire being wrought down upon the small safe house, the volley of hellfire stops.

"You okay, Shaw?" John yells as he tries to take a peek over the counter.

BANG

BANG

The sound of 5.56 gunfire from inside the safe house answered John's question. She grabbed his SIG… he wanted to use that.

"Yeah." Shaw yells back as she returns fire. "We got 2 dickheads in the building across from us."

Putting his trust in Shaw's cover fire, John gets out from cover and grabs the ringing phone before diving back into cover.

"Hello?" John answers the phone as another hail of gunfire rips through the safe house.

"Oh, thank god you're safe, Mr. Reese." John can barely make out the relieved tone in Harold's voice from the gunfight going on in the background.

"Where are you, Finch?" John asks as he takes a peek over the counter and sees Shaw crawling to the other side of the room to take a different position.

"There was a car chasing me on my way back from Rickers, but I've managed to lose them a minute ago when I got a sensor notification from the building's CCTV. At least 5 people just entered the building. I remotely shut the shutters, but I'm not sure how long it will last. Everyone needs to get out of the building, Mr. Reese. There's an escape route that leads to the other building in the shoe closet."

Heh… of course, he made an escape route from this safe house after Elias easily cornered Carter and Fusco last year. And bravo Harold, for getting better at driving while under duress.

"Stay safe, Finch." John says as he hangs up the phone.

BANG

BANG

"Shaw!" John yells at the woman to get her attention. "We need to get out of here, now!"

Shaw gets back into cover to reload. "Obviously!" Shaw yells back as she slams in another magazine and pops out of cover again. "But where?"

"Shoe closet!" John answers as he rushes out of cover towards the living room table to grab something better than a pistol.

"Grab the asshole." Shaw growls as she takes another shot.

John slings on the AR 15 and pockets every magazine he can fit. "Roger."

He quickly crawls into the bedroom and sees a very awake Gary on the floor, groaning in pain.

"Were you shot?" John asks as he gets nearer to the man.

"No." Gary groans. "Dropping onto the floor fucking hurts."

"We don't have time." John pulls out the man's IV line, causing Gary to yelp before wrapping it with a piece of gauze that's lying around.

"Follow me." John orders Gary as he looks directly into the man's eyes, causing him to nod.

John grabs the medical bag that's beside the bed before getting out of the room and back into the continual firefight between Shaw and the collective.

He sees Shaw smirking as she shoots out of the window before having to get back into cover to reload. It is at that moment when he passes by the former operative; he sees her smirk morph into a frown.

"Crawl motherfucker." Shaw barks.

That causes him to stop and look behind him, only to see Gary attempting to pull his duffle bag near the now bullet ridden sofa.

"My bag!" Gary yells at Shaw, who just rolls her eyes.

"Fuck your bag." Shaw says before she gets back to shooting.

Gary ignores "I need it, bitch."

"It's fine Shaw, I'll bring it." John says, then he tosses the medical bag. "Take that with you."

"Yeah, yeah." Shaw glances down before taking another shot. "I ain't planning to get shot."

"No one does." John instantly retorts as he crawls the short distance to the sofa and grabs the stupidly heavy duffle bag.

Just as he's about to scamper away, his eyes fall onto the black bag that's filled with guns. John can feel his hands clenching Gary's bag tighter. He can't leave the bag of guns here…

Screw it.

He readjusts the AR15 and slings Gary's duffle bag over his shoulder before grabbing the bag of guns. As he starts moving forward with both bags, he can feel the weight bearing down on him.

God… he really should have checked what's inside the bag earlier because if it's just gold, he'll be pissed.

"You better not stop now." John growls at Gary as he passes by the asshole, who's just dumbly staring at him.

"How about you try crawling with a busted leg?" Gary protests from behind John.

"Already have." John replies with annoyance to Gary as they crawl past Shaw and towards the front door. "Shaw, we got people coming into the building. Disengage when I call for you!"

"Okay!" Shaw acknowledged. "You got any C4 in that bag of tricks?"

That would be a nice welcoming gift for their friends, but from memory… "No!"

John makes his way to the shoe closet with Gary in tow and when he reaches it, he rips open the door wide open, revealing a very normal-looking shoe closet. Knowing his friend's proclivity for hiding thing, John quickly feels the side of the shoe closet for a button….

There you are… with a shove, he presses the hidden button on the right side of the wall, causing it to swing open, revealing another room. Their current unit is in the middle, that means this other unit is the end unit that's connected to the building beside this.

"You go in first." John says as he stands, takes cover and readies his AR15.

Gary is hesitant at first, then says. "Where the fuck are we going?"

"Go!" John yells at Gary as he shoulders the AR15. The man doesn't protest any further as he shifted past John and goes through the opening.

"Shaw!" John fires a few shots onto the other building where he spots muzzle flash. "I'll cover you!"

"Bounding!" Shaw yells as she stops firing and sprints towards John's location as bullets rain through the safe house.

The former operative taps John's shoulder as she passes by him and says. "You got extra megs in that bag? I got a couple left."

John fires another burst of rounds before disengaging and answers. "Enough for the both of us."

Shaw just nods before going through the opening and John follows behind her. As he passes through the opening, he spun backwards and pushes the door to close it. Can't have anybody following them.

"What's next in four eyes' plan?" Shaw asks as she crouches down behind the wall of this unit.

The place is almost identical to the safe house, only that it's inverted, and the windows shut with wood. Hopefully, Harold didn't install a Faraday cage here as well.

John taps on the earpiece and says. "Where to next, Finch?"

"Go to the bedroom. There's a door that leads to the other building. I'll reach there in five minutes and please be there, Mr. Reese."

"I will." John answers back before tapping his earpiece to disconnect the call. He then looks around the room, seeing Shaw trying to see out of the wooded-up window and Gary sitting on the floor holding his injured gut.

"To the bedroom." John says loudly as he nudges Gary forward. "We don't have much time."

As if the other side heard what he just said, chaos rains down into the unit, wood splinters and bullets flying everywhere.

"I fucking hate that I can't shoot back." Shaw barks as she crawls forward to the bedroom, with Gary slowly behind her and John behind him.

"I'm sure you can have your fun when we're in the car, Shaw." John quips lightly as they make their way while under constant fire.

"Fucking hope so, because I really need to shoot someone for all of this." Shaw says as she slides open the bedroom door.

The room itself is exactly the same as the one in the safe house except for one big thing… "Well, that's obvious."

Shaw quickly makes her way to the big metal door that's in the middle of the room and opens it, revealing another unit on the other side. Just as she goes through the door, a loud explosion rocks the entire house, and it came from the living room.

"Go." John says as he pushes Gary forward into the next unit and quickly turn around to close the metal door.

The moment the door closes, it automatically seals itself and that's when bullets start hitting the door.

"I don't think that door will survive a breaching charge." Shaw comments as she aims her gun at the door.

Like the other unit, this place's window is boarded-up, but the shooters hasn't hit them yet… that means they're out of the line of fire.

"We need to get down fast." John says as he drags Gary up from the floor, causing the man to groan in pain.

With zero hesitancy, Shaw nods and takes point. John takes out his pistol and nudges the injured man on his shoulder forward, following Shaw's lead. They left the unit without any trouble, as John can hear their pursuers set off another explosion behind them.

"Guess Finch made that door impervious to bombs." John comments as they rush down the staircase.

Shaw just snorts as she has her rifle up in case anybody jumps in front of them. The journey down the building with relative ease, other than the occasional bouts of slowness coming from Gary. Surprisingly enough, people smartly choose to stay in their house rather than coming out. Well, there were a few but their worries were assuaged by the NYPD badge John has.

The former operative comes to a stop just before they reach the ground floor and says. "Is Finch there?"

Has it been 5 minutes?

John urgently taps the earpiece. "Finch ETA?"

"I'm turning the corner."

"Go, go." John tells Shaw as he taps his earpiece again.

Shaw moves forward without a word with her rifle raised up and kicks open the door revealing the chaotic, empty street. She leans by the doorway for some cover as she quickly scans the area for any baddies. So far, nothing is shooting at them, but he can hear the trampling of boots coming from upstairs. They're here…

With a loud screeching sound, a car comes to a dead stop in front of the building and John can see Harold in the car. At the moment John taps Shaw's shoulder, they both of them exit the building with their guns up, and Gary limping behind them.

When they reach the car…

"Shotgun." John says as he slides across the car hood and quickly gets into the passenger seat -as quickly as he can with two heavy bags on him-.

"You motherfu…" Shaw couldn't finish her sentence as bullets started hitting the car.

The former operative spins around and unloads an entire magazine into the building where they came from. From what John can see, she hit one of their pursuers. All the while, Gary enters the back seat.

Shaw slowly makes her way backwards and reaches the door. "Scooch over, asshole!"

Gary did as ordered, then Shaw tosses the medical bag into the car, causing Gary to groan in pain when the bag hits him, and Shaw enters the car while continuing to fire.

"Move." Shaw orders Harold as she reloads her rifle.

Harold puts the pedal to the metal and zooms forward while the back door was still open, causing the door to close by itself.

"Toss me some fresh mags." Shaw says as she dumps out all of her empty magazines onto the floor of the car.

John looks down and sees the mess that is the bag positions, making it almost impossible to get anything. He quickly removes Gary's and tosses it onto the dashboard.

"Putting that thing there is highly dangerous Mr. Reese, and it blocks my view." Harold says calmly as he blazes through the traffic light.

"It's just for a moment." John quips back, knowing fully if that bag flies at him it's going to cave his chest in or worse, hitting his groin… such is the life of a concerned third party.

John quickly goes through his bag of guns for STANAG magazine and tosses it back to Shaw without looking back. "Here."

"I'm surprised the police haven't shown up yet." John comments as he looks at Harold.

The man stiffly shakes his head as he focuses on driving. "From what Detective Carter has told me, the department is facing a massive communication issue that's causing blackouts throughout the city. The police doesn't know what's going on in most of the city."

That causes a frown to form on John. "That's convenient." And not for them.

Harold spares John a quick glance as he says. "It happened a few minutes before the attack on the safe house."

"That's very convenient." John mutters.

It must be the collective that caused that to happen. Just for them to have free rein in killing them. The only time he has seen something like this was when Harold hacked into DOH system to shut down cell service in lower Manhattan, but this was different. It's more precise compared to Harold's method. Just how deeply compromise is the city? The country?

That's for the both of them to think of after they get out of this mess. Better start with the simpler things first…

He puts his rifle in a better position and then puts the gun bag onto the center console. As John looks up, he glances at the rearview mirror and sees…

"You're not going to believe me, but we have two Nissan Leaf's chasing us." John says with some slight incredulity in his voice.

"Seriously?" Shaw deadpans at John before turning around to see that indeed. Two identical colored Nissan Leaf's are speeding right at them and getting ever closer.

"Jesus Fucking Christ. Are those rentals?" Shaw mutters. She then turns her attention to Gary for some answers.

"Company policy is to use EVs when it's not a long-distance affair." The injured man just shrugs at Shaw, who's just stares at him with a deadpan look. "Franny really loves the environment."

"Great, we're being chased by fucking killer hippies." Shaw shakes her head as she prepares her rifle.

"Oi, I'm not a fucking hippie." Gary retorts, sounding offended.

Shaw snorts as she turns her body around and aims out of the rear windshield. "Yeah, if you were still one, you wouldn't have four bullet holes in you."

"Seeing that we're fucked. Can I at least get a gun?" Gary asks as he looks at the incoming cars.

"No." All three of them said at the same time.

Gary groans. "Geez, what fucking assholes! Bitch, you better have my gun."

"Left it in the safe house." Shaw answers while she has her entire attention on the cars.

"God damn it. Why did you do that?" Gary complains.

Without skipping a beat Shaw answer. "It's a shitty gun."

"We can outrun them, can't we?" John asks as he rolls down his window. "Those cars doesn't have much juice in them."

Harold just gives him a side glance, but doesn't say anything. Gary, on the other hand. "Those shits can drive for 70 miles, more if it's the ones that Francine had custom made."

"We don't have 70 miles." Shaw says, and she starts blasting.

The rear windshield cracks but didn't burst into small pieces as Shaw shoots at their pursuers. John just grins as he sticks his body out of the window to get a better shot and fires at the cars.

The two cars instantly do evasive maneuvers to avoid being hit, and from what John can see, those are God damn good drivers. Too bad about the car selection, though.

He gets some decent shots into the car that Shaw isn't shooting, but nothing substantive, like hitting the diver. Surprisingly they aren't shooting back at him yet. At the sound of his rifle clicking, John gets back into the car and reloads his rifle.

"That's incredibly dangerous Mr. Reese." Harold comments as he avoids any car on the road and speeding through traffic lights.

"It isn't more dangerous than us getting shot at, Finch." John quips back and puts his body out the window again.

This time, however, it wasn't like before. John can see the moment the car he's aiming at started firing back at him. Gunfire explodes out of the passenger seat of that Leaf. John can hear the crack of the bullets whizzing past him as Harold begins to drive more evasively, causing him to constantly lose his mark. Honestly, the driving isn't that bad. At least he isn't being tossed around in his position.

The two Leaf's are roughly 8 meters behind their car, one is on his left and the other is on the right. Shaw is currently shooting at the right one while he tries to aim and get a good shot into the left car. But is too hard with how both their car and the pursuing cars doing evasive maneuvers.

When his rifle empties again, he pops back into the car to reload.

"You hit them?" John asks as he shoves in a fresh magazine.

Shaw, slide down the seat for some protection as she also reloads. "Nadda. Can't get a clear shot."

"Would you like me to slow down?" Harold inquires as he weaves the car around the other commuters.

"No." Both he and Shaw say at the same time.

As he is about to pop out of the window again, a hail of bullets enters the car, causing John to slide down the seat for some cover. Even Harold ducks a little while he continues to drive. A few bullets hit the front windshield and when the bullets stop coming, John looks up, only to see blood splatter on the windshield.

Oh no…

John quickly turns his attention to the backseat to check if Shaw's hit but he only sees Gary clenching his teeth as he holds the right side of his neck where blood is gushing out of it. He knows from experience on how bad that wound can be.

However, one thought prevail over others… Jesus Christ, he's hit again?

"Shit." Shaw says when she sees the bleeding and quickly tosses her rifle to the side as she drags the man down onto the middle seat so she can have a better look at the wound.

Shaw quickly dives into the bloody medical bag to grab some supplies when he asks. "How bad is it?"

"Not good, but not terrible." Shaw quickly answers as wears some gloves and starts putting pressure on the wound with some gauze.

"That's a… shit… assessment." Gary says weakly as he lies there.

"Yeah? Next time, don't get shot in the neck, asshole." Shaw retorts, not having the patience for Gary's comments.

Gary grits his teeth in pain again. "How come none of y'all been shot…"

Truthfully, that's a very good question. He had expected to get shot when his body was outside. Guess everyone but Gary just have good luck on their side.

Then another wave of bullets hits the car, causing everyone to duck and the car swerve chaotically.

When it stops, John checks in on everyone to see if they're okay and thankfully everyone is except for Gary. He sees Shaw replacing the bloody gauze with a fresh one and continue to put pressure on the wound.

"Don't you have a tourniquet?" John asks with slight alarm in his voice. He really doesn't want to lose another number, even if the number is an ass.

Shaw looks up at John and gives him a dumbfounded look. "You want me to put a fucking tourniquet his neck?"

That sounded better in his head and when she says it… "No, that's dumb."

"Ya think?" Shaw deadpans as she continues to put pressure on the wound with one hand while with the other, she used to grab an Israeli bandage.

John just nods and goes out of the window to fire back at the cars. A thirty-round magazine easily empties when one's being chased.

"Don't you have anything with a bigger oomph in that bag of tricks?" Shaw asked when he got back into the car.

That prompted a sudden realization for him. Hold on a goddamn second…

John quickly ditches his rifle and goes through his bag of guns. No, no, no, that would be useful in the apartment, no, no, no… God, there's way too many guns in here, not something he would usually think of.

And… presto. John takes out an M79 thumper, which he holds out for Shaw to see who proceeds to roll her eyes.

"If you had that the entire time, why the fuck didn't you use it?" Shaw asks in annoyance as she wraps the bandage.

He grabs the only four 40MM grenades in the bag and shrugs. "Kinda forgot about it in the heat of things."

"Next time, don't forget something that useful during a chase and don't miss." Shaw comments as her attention went back solely to Gary, who looks to be passed out.

John looks in the rearview mirror and sees that the left car is the closest to them while the other is slightly behind but is quickly catching back up. He eyeballs the distance to be around 10 meters away. That's too close for the 40MM.

"You need to get some distance from the lead car, Harold." John informs Harold. "Around 5 to 10 meters should be good enough."

"I will and I'll try to stabilize the car as much as I can, so you won't miss Mr. Reese." Harold says with a slight fright in his voice.

"I won't." John says confidently as he shoves the shells into his suit pocket. "Shaw, I need cover fire. Left first."

"Copy." Shaw replies and Harold speeds up the car as he pulls himself out of the window.

The moment he's out of the window, Shaw starts peppering the left car, causing them to do evasive maneuvers while Harold steadies the car for his convenience. John shoulders the thumper after adjusting the range finder to be at the lowest possible.

He can feel the breeze on him, his heartbeat is steady as he aims the thumper at the lead car with his finger on the trigger. John constantly adjusts his aim to compensate for the wild maneuvers the car is doing. When he sees that the car reaches arming distance, John squeezes the trigger of the thumper. A sudden kick on his shoulder and the familiar loud, deep sound of a thump telling him the grenade is away. Then, a second later…

BOOM

The lead car explodes in a cacophony of heat and fire.

He can feel a grin on his face as he looks at the destruction of that EV, speeding through the smoke of its destroyed friend, is the other car determined to kill them. Shaw instantly opens fire on the car, starting a firefight between the two cars.

John then presses on the lever to break open the grenade launcher and reloads it with a fresh new round. The people in the last car try to shoot at him but Shaw, with her accurate shot, hits the shooter and at that moment John launches the grenade.

BOOM

However, whatever satisfaction he felt for a split second was wiped away when he realized what had just happened as the smoke clears slightly and sees a damaged civilian car while the Leaf swivels back into view. He missed…

John reloads his thumper again with haste, trying not to think of the collateral damage he just caused as the driver of the leaf takes potshots at their car. All the while, the leaf is speeding up to them and is out of the minimum arming distance of the 40MM.

John bangs on the roof of the car and yells. "Faster!"

As ordered Harold speeds up the car but their pursuer kept up the pressure trying to close in as near as possible. This is going to take forever… Screw it. Hopefully, the grenade gets enough rotation before it hits the car. He takes aim again and when he's just about to pull the trigger. The car spins out of control and hits a parked car off to the side. Shaw must have hit the driver.

Sliding back into the car, he looks at the back and sees a smirk on Shaw's face. "What happened to not miss?"

"The guy was a good driver?" John shrugs as he turns around to face forward. All he can hope is that the explosion didn't cause too much damage.

"More are going to come." John says as he turns to Harold. "Do we have a place to hold up?"

"Yes, I have a warehouse in Hell's Kitchen." Harold quickly answers. "And we're not far from it."

"Just how many properties in New York do you have?" John grins at his friend as he puts away the thumper for his rifle.

"The financial crisis was a very good time to buy properties." Harold answers lightly as he resumes driving at a normal speed but continues to apply tactics to get rid of any tail.

So, they continue on in their bullet ridden wreck of a car -they should have changed cars, but they don't have any time- towards Harold's warehouse. John was tense the entire way with his rifle ready to defend this busted-up car. All the while in the back, Shaw continues to treat Gary in the capacity she can in the cramped backseat and occasionally swears.

It took them roughly 10 tense minutes before they reached a warehouse that has seen better years. Harold brings the car to a stop in front of a truck size shutter and off to its right is a side door with a keypad.

"The shutter can only be opened with a switch from in the inside." Harold nods at the building. "The password is 8749."

He exits the car with his rifle in the ready just in case and makes his way to the door. With a buzz and a clank, the door unlocks, signaling that he can now enter. He rushes to the shutter and pushes up a lever, which causes the shutter to open.

John maintains overwatch as Harold quickly brings in the car and closes the shutter. Harold and Shaw with her medical bag, get out of the car the moment the car turns off.

"Is Gary out cold?" John asks when he notices a missing person when he makes his way to the car.

Shaw adjusts the medical bag on her. "Wuss been out cold since the chase ended."

"Should we carry Mr. Cook?" Harold asks with slight concern when he reaches the rear door.

Shaw snorts. "Fuck no." She proceeds to open the door and smacks Gary's face.

"Augh… what the fuck!" Gary groans as tries to look around, only to hiss in pain when he moves his neck.

"Oi, unless you want to bleed again, don't move your neck, asshole." Shaw deadpans. "Shit wasn't a permanent fix."

Gary grunts and groans. "Knew you were shit at this."

If looks can kill, Shaw has it on her face and before John breaks the tension when he turns to a wide-eyed Harold. "Finch, you need to get in touch with Root now."

"Of course." There's a look of determination in Harold's eye. He then goes to the busted-up trunk and grabs his bag from inside it, which miraculously avoids all the bullets that hit the trunk.

"Follow me." Harold says as he limps past them and into one of the doors.

John nods, but before that, he needs to grab a few things. He makes his way to the front passenger seat, grabbing his bag of guns and the thumper. With that settles he looks at Shaw, who's glaring at Gary.

"Get out you lazy ass." Shaw says dispassionately as she grabs Gary by his arm.

Gary protested when he was pulled out of the car. "Oi, oi, don't pull me, bitch. I'm injured."

"Stop being such a pussy." Shaw scoffs as they all follow Harold's trail deeper into the building.

John can only shake his head in amusement at the scene. He didn't know how one person can annoy Shaw so much, must be a talent of his.

"Hey what about my bag?" Gary asks, and John looks back at him.

He grins at the injured man. "How about you carry it?"

"That's not possible." Gary protests.

"Then it stays in the car until we come back here." John grins at the man.

Gary glares at John and grumbles, but in the end, he follows the both of them forward.

After a few minutes of walking up a few flights of stairs and a few corridors, the three of them finally reach a room filled with antiques. It wasn't like this warehouse was entirely empty; it was still filled with stuff from its previous occupants but nothing that looked like it was Harold's, this on the other hand, looks like what Harold would keep.

The room itself is nothing special. There were frosted glass windows off at the end of the room providing light for the space, lots of furniture with cloth on it, the usual stuff, and there's even one gigantic clock. Why does he have two giant clocks? Gotta ask Harold about that when they're done with this number. There must be a story for his hoarding of those clocks.

There in the middle of the room sits Harold with his laptop on the table and him typing away on it.

"Any progress yet?" He asks his friend as he dumps the bag of guns on the table.

John can hear Gary groan as he collapse on a chair behind him as Shaw locks the door behind them.

Harold doesn't stop his typing when he gives John a side glance. "Patience Mr. Reese. She left a trail, but it wasn't as easy as I've initially thought."

John just shrugs as checks how many magazines are left in the bag and restocks his depleted magazines. All in all, there's only 10 magazines left for both his and Shaw's rifles. That'll last them roughly 10 minutes of high intense firefight if they're conservative. Plenty of pistol ammo though, but shit gotta hit the fan if they need to use pistols against those people.

He takes a glance at where Gary is and sees hissing as Shaw checks on his wounds. For all that bluster, she's a bit of a softie… or maybe she's a perfectionist when it comes to medical stuff from her time as a doctor. He'll take the former speculation because that's the funnier one.

When the sound of the clicking keyboard stops, John looks up to see Harold just looking at the laptop with nervous hesitation. Something's wrong…

"Is everything alright?" John asks Harold, causing the man to snap his focus from the laptop to John.

He can see Harold clenching his fist and relaxing it multiple times with him breathing in deeply. It can't still be…

"Trouble?" Shaw asks when she stops by between them.

Harold closes his eyes for a second before saying. "I wonder if this is the only choice we have."

Shaw just shrugs. "It's the easiest. Although we can always keep killing the goons until we track down Pauling the old fashion way."

Gary lets out a loud snort from where he's seated. "How the fuck would you even do that?"

"From the shit you gave us and from the shit we have." Shaw replies as she glares at the injured man.

The man looks dizzy as he scoffs. "You don't think I never tried to look for her in the past? I spent years trying to find out her name or where she lived and came out empty-handed."

"Oh yeah? Well, we aren't shit at our jobs, asshole." Shaw retorts.

John rolls his eyes at their bickering and tries to convince Harold in a way that he'll listen to. "Root's our best choice to avoid more people dying, Harold. And remember the countdown."

That caused his friend to pause for a moment and think about it. Seems like he didn't think about that little aspect. The more people the collective send, the more people they need to kill and the higher the chance that an innocent get caught in between the crossfire. Also, they have around a week left before the machine's virus activates and they need to be there to do something about it.

"What makes you think that insane bitch would even call you?" Gary chuckles.

Harold looks at all three of them and let out a breath before pressing enter on his laptop. "We shall see."

A few seconds pass as everyone is dead silent to see if anything will happen, but after a minute pass and nothing…

"So… what's next?" John breaks the tense silence.

Harold clenches his fist as he looks at the laptop. "If Miss Groves is as competent of a programmer as I believe she is, that would have alerted her."

"Who the fuck is Groves?" Gary asks weekly and slightly drowsy. Must be the painkillers kicking in. Wonder how much he has taken in the past two hours.

Shaw just has a blank look on her as she stares at Harold's laptop and is completely oblivious to what Gary just asked.

Following her lead, John ignores Gary and says. "Maybe she's sleeping?"

"That's a possibility." Harold looks at his wristwatch. "It's 7:10am."

A few minutes passed and nothing happened, other than Gary teasing them like he was drunk. Harold then turn his gaze away from the laptop towards John and Shaw.

"By the way, my conversation with Elias wasn't entirely useless. He gave some context and new information about…" The sound of Harold's phone ringing cuts him off.

Harold's eyes widen with fright before he regains his composure and takes out his phone. The screen shows an unknown number before Harold then answers the phone and put it on speaker.

"Why, I never expected you to contact me, Harold. Especially not so early in the morning… What if I was busy?" Root's smug voice echoes out of the phone. "Not after our last outing~."

Calling a kidnaping an outing is an understatement. God, he really wants to shoot her.

No one dares to say anything and after a few seconds of silence as Harold tries to recompose himself, he says. "It is imperative that you understand that this call is not of a casual nature." Harold pauses for a second before continuing. "I may need your help."

"I didn't expect anything less… and please Harold, call me Root." John can practically see her smiling through her voice. "So, what do you need, Harry?"

Harry?

"It's about Gary Bidwell or Gary Cook, as he is known now." Harold says with determined confidence.

Root doesn't say anything for a second. It's like catching someone red-handed. Of course, she would know about the hit if she's part of the leadership…

"Who?" Root's voice sounded more confused than playful ignorance.

… What?

Something seems to snap in Harold. "He's the person that worked for the collective and the person your organization is trying to kill."

"Do you have the slightest idea how little that narrows it down?" Root instantly retorts and lets out a snort.

Just how many people in their own organization do they kill? By the look of horror on Harold's face, he's thinking the same.

"And when did you find out about CSS?" Root ask in a happy? tone.

John would have expected her to be slightly angry that someone uncovered their secret organization that the government doesn't even know about, but she is different.

Root then continues playfully. "Not that it matters. You would have found out about it soon anyway."

Well, that sounds ominous… what has she been planning for the past year?

"Please don't be facetious with me, Miss Groves. A man's life is at stake and people in your organization have died because of their pursue of Mr. Bidwell." Harold stresses their situation.

Shaw just rolls her eyes at that… doesn't seem like everyone shares Harold's view of life.

"Someone's life is always at stake, Harry. What's the difference with this one random life?" Root asks flippantly, not caring that she lost people today. Not that surprising, she doesn't seem to care about people or people's life from Harold's description.

Harold looks like he doesn't know how to respond to Root's question. How does one try to convince a person who doesn't care about people to save a life? Especially with how little regard she showed for her own life last year.

Gary lets out an ugly grunt and says weakly. "Bitch… Tell her it's Greg."

All three of them snap their head towards a slumping Gary with an odd look on their faces. Each has different reactions to that… well, except for Shaw, since she can't emote properly.

His actual name is Greg?

Harold then spins his head back to the phone and says. "His name is Greg."

That made Root silent for a second and slowly asks. "Which Greg?"

Which Greg? How many are there? Gary didn't mention a Greg or multiple Gregs when he lists out his co-workers' names. Guess Shaw was right about the man didn't tell them everything.

Gary lets out a pained groan and says weakly. "New York Greg."

"New York Greg." Harold instantly tells Root.

"Oh, Greg 2! Why didn't you say it earlier? And I guessing he's the one that was mumbling in the background." Root says, amusingly. "Hey Greg 2! Looks like your time is up, huh?"

What kind of nickname is that? No wonder the man changed his first name.

"Fuck you, you insane bitch." Gary said loudly enough for Root to hear.

"Well, that isn't a nice thing to say to someone that can help you, isn't it, Greg 2?" There's a sadistic tone in her voice.

Gary doesn't reply to her but mutters something under his breath. Probably insulting her again.

"Let me take a gander. You and your helper monkey got his number, didn't you? Now you're trying to save him from the minions." Again, John can practically see her smugly smiling through the phone.

Minions? That's a very blasé way of calling her subordinates.

Shaw gives him a look and mouth 'helper monkey?'. To which he just shrugs. He's been called worse things in his life.

"Yes." Harold acknowledged tensely.

"Gee… why would I even help you?" Root singingly. "I'm sure you've spent time with the man. He's an asshole."

"Be that as it may, it isn't a reason to call for his death." Harold rebuts.

"Going by how quiet he is, I'm guessing Greg 2 is bleeding~." Root says playfully. "How's them bullets, dickhead?"

"Shove a gun up your ass, you nut job." Gary shouts feebly.

"Kinky."

Harold has a frown on him like he's tired of everything. "Why is Francine Pauling trying to kill him?"

Silence was the only response. John is quite curious about the hit. It can't just be because he's no longer useful, but telling Root that they know about Pauling might not be the best way of going about it.

"He told you about her, didn't he?" Root sounding more serious than before.

Harold and John shared a look with each other. He knew he shouldn't have said that.

After a moment of silence. "Sigh… No wonder he's slated to be decommissioned. The man really can't shut his mouth to save his life."

"Decommissioned?" Harold's eyes widen with horror, but his voice is steady. "Just because of that, he's going to die?"

That's actually not the worst excuse to kill someone. A leaky ship sinks the ship and John has personally done acts to patch those leaks. But decommissioned? Even the agency doesn't use such flowery language when they're cleaning house. It's so dehumanizing.

"No, you silly goose. The man is a walking HR mess." Root's serious tone vanishes. "Do you know how much work-related sexual harassment complaints we received because of him?"

Glancing back at Gary and at how silent he's being, brings credence to Root's claim. Well, that's one way of dealing with an HR complaint… an extreme way. Even Shaw arched an eyebrow at that reasoning.

"You're going to kill a person just because of that?" Harold expresses disbelief.

"Did you know that he tried to flirt with Pauling?" Root responded in a matter-of-fact tone. "The poor woman didn't even know he was hitting on her and just thought he was being overly friendly."

Seriously? Who tries to flirt with the boss of a criminal empire… and by the look on Gary's face, he's regretting it now.

"Is that how the collective operates?" Harold argues. "By killing off anyone that makes mistakes?"

"Tut-tut Harold. Workplace safety and environment are a number one priority for the firm. You're once a businessman, don't you believe in that?"

Sounds like a toxic work environment. Though… he can't really say much, seeing how the agency tried to kill him for doing a job that's not supposed to happen.

"You don't murder a person just for that." Harold protests.

"Of course, that's not the only reason. It's that and him being a motor mouth kinda did him at this time. To be honest with you, Harry, I'm shocked that Pauling even let him live this long. Figured she would have killed him off years ago, but she's too nice of a person."

John isn't sure if it's the standard definition of nice or it's Root's definition of nice. Because it's hard to imagine a mob boss being 'nice'.

"That still doesn't justify cold-blooded murder." Harold retorts immediately.

"Oh please, Greg 2 has blood on his hands. Innocent blood." Root dismisses Harold.

There's a sharp look on Harold that John doesn't normally see. "Every life matter, no matter how foul they might be."

"Oi." Gary protests weakly and too low for Root to hear.

"Well, if Pauling called the hit on him, then it's off my hand. There's nothing I can do." Root says in mock sympathies. "He's going to be dead as a doornail."

Harold became eerily quiet, as he has this look of contemplation. Trying to think of something that can sway Root.

"Fucking told you." Gary unhelpfully mocks Harold's effort. "She's just fucking with you all."

John shoots the man a glare, which he just grin in response. Maybe they should let him die, would make things easier.

Tension mired Harold's face as he looked like he swallowed his pride. "Please, Miss Groves… Every life is worth something."

No…

Dread befell John as he looked at his friend.

"Always so noble… and since you asked so nicely, how can say no to that?" Root said smugly. "But being nice won't be enough."

Harold gulps in nervousness. "What do you want?"

"Nothing too bad. Just come the next time I contact you." The way Root said that shoots lighting up his spine.

John's hands move faster than he can think as his finger presses the mute button on the phone, which causes Harold to jump slightly.

"You can't do this Harold, it's not worth it. Your life doesn't equal his." John said tensely.

He knows it's his idea to call Root, and he had expected a curve ball from Root, but this isn't an equal exchange.

There's a determined look on Harold's face as he says with confidence. "A life is a life, no matter what, and saving a life is worth everything, Mr. Reese. And if I have to meet Miss Groves again, so be it."

"I'm with four-eyes on this, not on the 'every life is worth it' thing but more on getting a chance at shooting that bitch." Shaw gives her two cents.

Harold doesn't wait for John to respond when he presses on the unmute button and says. "I'll do it."

"I'm so glad you said yes. Let's see if I can change her mind." Root ends the call.

Silence once again falls in their little hideout, with Harold looking away from the phone, Shaw with her blank face, Gary looking downright drunk and John feeling unsatisfied.

"Guess we'll just have to wait and see if she does it." John concludes softly.

"I don't know about waiting." Shaw speaks up as she looks around the room. "It's almost thirty minutes since we reached here, and those assholes must know where we are by this time."

That's a possibility that he can't dismiss…

BOOM

All of their heads pivot towards the only door into the building as a loud but distant sound of an explosion rocks the building.

John then turned to face Shaw, who sensed his stare and raised an eyebrow. "You just have to jinx it, don't you?"

"Are you 8 years old?" Shaw rolls her eyes at him. "At least we have something to kill the time."

Both John and Shaw get to work in building a makeshift barricade as Gary drunkenly limps away from the door and hides behind Harold.

"We shouldn't have trusted her." Harold voiced his concern after they finished putting up the barricade and aiming their rifles at the door. "She was just wasting our time for them to get to us."

John gives Harold a glance. "As much as I don't like her and want to blame her for this Finch. These guys might be out of the loop."

"Yeah, the whole left hand doesn't talk to the right hand schtick." Shaw comments as she prepares for the incomings.

A spike of anticipation flows through John as he hears footsteps outside on the other side of the door. Then a loud…

THUMP

"You think they're going to drill it or explode it?" Shaw says nonchalantly.

John hums for a second. "Money on exploding it."

"That's a thick door. I bet a hundred bucks on it's a drill." Shaw grins in anticipation.

John grins back at Shaw. "You got a deal."

"The both of you are too excited for this." Harold comments from behind them.

The both of them glance back at a perturb Harold and the both of them give the man a shrug. It's something Harold can never understand. At least, Shaw has the same mind as him on this. It's nice to have someone to share something in common with.

John can feel his grip on his rifle tighten in suspense with every passing second of silence. Everything around him darkens as his sole focus is on the door in the interception for someone to burst through that door. It feels like minutes have passed, but his instinct tells him that it's been less than a minute.

Then the sound of Harold's ringing cuts through the tension in the air like a hot knife on butter. Both turn their head to look at a surprised Harold who's just looking at his phone in trepidation. It took another second before Harold worked up the courage and answered the phone.

"Hey Harry bear~." Root says in a singsong tone. "You owe me one~."

"I assumed that you have convinced Miss Pauling?" Harold asks.

At that seeming resolution of the threat from the other side of the door, John lowers his rifle and turns his body to face the phone. Shaw, on the other hand doesn't seem convinced yet and continues to aim at the door.

"Is Greg there? Because I don't want to repeat what I have to say."

Harold glances at the slightly daze looking Gary who doesn't look like he wants to say anything to the woman -quite understandable- and says. "He's beside me."

"Hi New York Greggie!"

"Root." Gary growls, seemingly gaining back some consciousness.

"Why do you sound so sour when I just saved your skin?"

There's a look of utter disbelief on Gary. "What?"

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Shaw relax a little and stop looking at the door.

"Didn't know you had so little faith in me, Greg 2."

"Thank you, Miss Groves." Harold said quickly, wanting to end this conversation.

"Ah-ah, I'm not done Harry. I talked to Pauling, and she only has one condition for the extension of your life."

There's always a catch.

"If you tell any of these fine folks and yes, that includes you Sameen. We know you're there with them. We ought to continue our previous session, since it was rudely interrupted before we could begin."

"I'm going to put a bullet in you." Shaw deadpans.

"Ooo, feisty. I like it when they fight."

Somehow it feels like she's flirting with Shaw…

"Anyway, going forth, if you tell them or anyone anything relating to the CSS, then your amnesty will be voided, and she's going to kill you."

"Alright." Gary said instantaneously.

Shaw looks downright pissed off at the notion of losing Gary as a source of information. Which is entirely understandable, knowing now that he wasn't entirely forthcoming with his answers.

"Knew you had two brain cells in that little head of yours." Root says condescending. "Also, don't try to be smart. She'll know every breath you take, every more you make, every step you take, and she'll be watching you."

Isn't that a song? John's pretty sure that's from a song and by the look of bewilderment on Harold, he got the reference.

Gary sneers at the phone and grunts. "Yeah, yeah, I get it you, insane bitch."

"Well, that settles it, and we'll meet again soon, Harold."

With that, the call was dropped leaving in silence processing what was just said.

"That's a load of shit, right?" Shaw's the first one to speak up. "They can't actually hear you right now, can they?"

"Would you even believe if I said they could?" Gary retorts back, his face creased with a frown.

Shaw ponders it for a few seconds. "It wouldn't be the most insane thing I've heard."

"What do you think, Finch?" John asks his friend, who has a thoughtful look on him.

The look on Harold changes to one of realization. "It's entirely possible." Harold gives John a pointed look. "The server farm."

The one carter went to? It's a front for the collective and its cover is a business that does telecommunication servicing and repair…

Wait a minute… is Harold implying that…

John's eyes widen as he realizes what Harold is trying to say. His eyes darts to the phone that's sitting on the table.

They're listening in, aren't they? This entire time? Except for that safe house because of the Faraday cage.

Why does that sound eerily like the machine?

They can't have built a system like the machine… can they?

No, that's impossible. Harold's the only one that can do it and he had help from the government. If it were so easy, then there would be more out there in the wild. There must be a simpler explanation than another AI.

"Are you not going to share with the class?" Shaw deadpans as she looks impatiently at John.

"We'll fill you in later." Harold answers as he glances at a dizzy Gary.

Shaw looks angry and or dissatisfied. Might be both… "Well, that fucking sucks. Bear is nowhere near here, and now this asshole can't say shit."

"You can stop by later to see Bear if you want." John lightly quips.

Shaw's eyes dart to John. "Don't tempt me."

Gary just weakly grunts and say. "You already know more than most people."

Shaw shoots the man a glare. "It wasn't everything, was it? Since you were being a prick and wasn't entirely truthful."

"Yeah, yeah…" Gary mutters. "So, what now?"

"Your life is no longer in danger. That means you're free to go, Mr. Cook." Harold answers the man immediately.

"What about my wounds?" Gary weakly protests. "These are just patch up jobs."

Shaw rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to do shit, not after you spit on the deal. Go crawl to an emergency room and say you got shot, you lazy fuck."

Gary's eyes dart between the three of them and whines. "What if they're still outside?"

John rolls his eyes and nudges Shaw. "Come on, maybe we get to shoot someone."

"I really need to shoot someone after dealing with this asshole." Shaw comments as they make their way to the door.

"You need to find a better outlet for your anger, Miss Shaw." Harold trying to impart some advice.

"What? It's better than shooting animals." Shaw smirks at Harold just before they exit the room, causing John to chuckle at his friend's expense.

He opens the door and the both of them look outside, only to see…

"I guess they took back their stuff." John comments.

There's a faint disappointed look on Shaw. "Draw?"

John smiles at her. "Sure."

It was quite an anticlimactic clean sweep of the building, with John and Shaw walking side by side. By the time they reach the car, they see the shutters were blown open, damaging the car. Guess they found the source of the explosion, and that car isn't moving again after that.

"What a fucking disappointment." Shaw mutters as they lower their gun and look at the big ass hole.

"You know Harold's offer is still up, right?" John grins at the former operative. "Shooting people is part of the job and you get to meet Bear every day."

Shaw glances at him with an interested look on her. "Tempting… but are all the numbers you get assholes like our asshole?"

John pauses for a second to think. "Not all of them are, but you did shoot me."

"Do you want me to shoot you again for old time's sake?" Shaw deadpans at him and slightly raises her rifle at him.

He raises his hands is mock surrender and lowering them before being serious again. "Saving people feels good. Not all of them will be thankless like our asshole, but we don't do it for praises or acknowledgment. You and I have done so much to save so many people that we forget who we are protecting. Sometimes saving one life is enough."

He isn't sure what prompted him to give her an employment pitch, but he has a feeling that she'll leave as soon as possible now that Gary is worthless to her, and he really enjoyed her as his partner. As much as he enjoys Harold's company, it's nice to have someone around that likes guns as much as he does.

There's a blank look on her as her eyes look down for a few seconds before looking back at him. "Maybe after I catch Pauling, then I'll consider it."

John can't help but give a big smile at her. "Call me if you need any help, because I want to catch her as much as you do."

Shaw just gives him a stoic nod and then a loud scream jolt them from their little conversation.

"Where the fuck is my bag?!" Gary yells in a manic tone as he looks inside the car along with Harold with his bag of guns off to the side looking with some curiosity.

"It's at the fro…" John stops talking after he turns around and sees the empty passenger seat. "Huh… guess they took it too."

Gary whirls around and seethes at him. "You don't fucking say?"

The man then collapses onto the side of the car and stares blankly. "They took my bag…"

"At least you're alive, asshole." Shaw shrugs at the clearly distressed man.

"My whole life was in that bag." Gary snaps at a clearly unimpressed Shaw.

"I'm sure you know how to pick up the pieces." John tries to comfort the man.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Gary says dejectedly.

"I would go to a hospital first if I were you." John points at the man's dressing and at his neck. "Especially that."

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that? The car is a wreck, and I can barely walk." Gary waves his hands.

"It's New York asshole." Shaw deadpans. "Use your brain."

Gary just glares at Shaw as Harold limps to the man and taking his wallet out. "Here's 50 dollars for a cab, Mr. Cook. Mount Sinai is the closest."

The thrice wounded man looks at Harold and at the sight of the cash in contempt for several seconds before the man let out a deep sigh. He swallows his pride and snatches the money from Harold.

Gary pushes himself off the car then looks at the hole in the shutter and back at Harold. "I never asked, but how did you know that the collective wanted to kill me? The bitch told me how she found me, but not you."

John and Harold shares a glance at each other while Shaw just raise an eyebrow before Harold says. "We have our ways, Mr. Cook."

The injured man just stares at Harold with a dumbfounded look at the non-answer before shaking his head and starts limping his way out of the building.

"I should have checked what was in that bag earlier." John comments as he looks at Gary exiting the building.

"You didn't?" Shaw skeptically asks as she gives him a look to match.

"No." John shakes his head. "Did you?"

Shaw just snorts and says. "Of course."

When did she have the time to do that before the shooting started?

"What's in it?" John asks in curiosity.

She smirks at him. "You should have just looked what's inside."

"That's not very nice of you." John quips.

The former operative just shrugs. "Just some useless stuff and nothing important to find, Pauling."

What's her definition of useless? From the look of despair on Gary's face, it seems personal stuff, apart from whatever made that bag heavy.

"So, we dragged that heavy ass bag the entire time just for it to disappear. What a waste of effort." John comments in slight annoyance.

Shaw just gives him a blank look. "Guess so."

He turns to his left and sees that Harold's standing beside him. "You think he'll be fine?"

"Oh, I'm sure Mr. Cook will manage." Harold answers courteously.

John stares at Harold for a second when a grin appears on his face. "I told you so."

Harold looks at him with a questioning look before he continues. "We could have avoided that entire chase if you contacted Root earlier."

His friend pauses for a second before nodding in agreement. "My time with Elias wasn't entirely fruitless."

Huh… he tried to say something earlier but was cut off. What did he find out?

Just before John can ask his question, Shaw walks forward and raises her rifle. "I'm keeping this."

That's his gun…

"Oh, Miss Shaw." That causes the woman to stop a few paces from them and turn around to face them. "I believe you would appreciate the information Elias gave me."

Shaw just stares at Harold for a second before nodding. "You sure you want to do it here? As slow as the police are today, that explosion is going to attract someone."

"She has a point." John smirks at Harold. Even if the police were busy today, that car chase earlier would have attracted a patrol car… unless the collective did something to prevent that from happening. Something for him and Harold to think about.

"You're correct, Miss Shaw." Harold nods and passes the bag of guns to John. "How about we talk in the library?"

That piques her interest. "Bear's there, right?"

"I'm sure he'll enjoy your company again, Miss Shaw." Harold answers as he limps forward, and they follow.

"Leon's still there…" John comments as they exit the building. "You think he's busying away with those accounts?"

"Oh, I've forgotten about Mr. Tao." Harold turns his body to look at John as they continue forward. "I'm sure he'll appreciate being relieved of duty and having something to eat other than snacks and instant noodles."

"I'm hungry. There's a deli near the Library." Shaw chimes in.

John's stomach growls at that moment from the lack of food for the past 18 hours. "Leon wouldn't mind if we eat first."

Shaw smirks at Harold. "You're paying."

His friend gives the woman a side glance. "If I'm paying, then I choose the place. I'm sure you wouldn't mind something from a diner."

Her smirk turns into a grin. "That's better."

John can't help but smile. It's almost like they're a team now.

---

A/N: Finally finish the one chapter, that turned out to be a mini arc that spans 4 chapters. With this completed, the next chapter will start the closing chapters for Arc 2 of the story. It will probably come out in 2-3 weeks again due to how busy my work is getting.