June 5
"...So," Ressler approached Red Reddington in what he hoped was a casual enough manner, "we're not heading back to D.C., I take it?"
Cooper, Red knew, ordered the agents back to home base, "I vetoed the notion."
"Does Cooper know?"
Red nodded, "And he was no happier than your associates." the Master Criminal nodded to the two sulking FBI agents in the back row of the plane. "Still a little miffed they missed out on all the fun?"
Ressler spared his contemporaries a glance, "You snooze, you lose." he philosophized in his own fashion. "Maybe I should have taken the time to rouse them but you kinda took that option off the table."
"One must take an opportunity when it presents itself." Red said.
Ressler was referring to Red and Dembe's unexpected exit back at the cabin, Red realized.
"Didn't really want them in the way," Red admitted.
Ressler knew Moore would have been a pain in everyone's ass. He also knew, no one dictated procedure or demanded Reddington do anything the man did not wish to do.
Not even Cooper.
Ressler gave up the fight, sticking his hands in his pockets, "Do I inform Benton we're on our way?" he had another dilemma on the horizon.
"No," Red replied quietly. "Let's get a feel for the situation first." he once again eyed the two men sitting several rows behind them as they conversed.
Ressler remained silent, his brain ticking feverishly away at his options.
His instincts were to go by the book, follow procedure.
Which was to put a call into the Chicago Field Office, request a detail be assigned to Benton whose life was in imminent danger.
But that would take away precious minutes of time... time they might not have.
Red understood the man's turmoil.
This was personal to Ressler...
"Benton made his bed when he became District Attorney." Red reminded, which drew a disgruntled grunt from Ressler. "His wife and child are another kettle of fish."
While Ressler held opposing objectives, he sensed Reddington's methods might lead them to the same results... faster.
"Tell the local office you're in the area," Red let the guy off the hook, "following a promising lead." he arched a brow, conveying his own message. "Advise them it might be advantageous to have a team on standby should thing's head south."
The tension in Ressler's shoulders eased.
Reddington provided an out... a paper trail, a feasible explanation he could sell if he had to.
"Do not tell them about Benton," Red warned. "Lawford might have ears on the inside."
Ressler nodded his understanding, extracting his phone from the inside coat pocket he sported.
"And for God's sake," Red suggested sourly, "sit down." he motioned to an empty seat by the window. "You're giving my neck a kink staring up at you like this." the man eased his muscles with his fingers. "And keep your voice low." he lifted a lazy stare to the back of the plane.
Ressler sat beside Dembe, his sigh a heavy one, "You don't trust them." he indicated his fellow agents.
"I don't trust anyone until they've proven they can be trusted." Red propped his feet on the seat opposite him having removed them for Ressler to pass through the aisle. "You would be wise to emulate that belief."
Ressler only shook his head, getting down to business.
Dembe handed over his projected list of people and equipment which might be useful on the excursion they already laid plans for.
Red looked it over with a perfunctory glance, "You've relayed this to Silas?" he asked absently.
"Not without your consent." Dembe managed straight-faced.
Red lifted a sarcastic smirk, "Yeah... right." he laughed the statement aside. "Since when have you two ever needed that?"
"I was striving for professionalism." Dembe sat back, his head turning slowly. "What with all these government officials on board."
Ressler took the jesting in his stride, ignoring the large black man as best he could, "I'm on hold here..." he mentioned.
"Well, of course, you are," Red stated brightly, "you're dealing with a government official."
Ressler shifted, turning his back on his two antagonists.
Red grinned over at Dembe, absently shifting his interest across the way after a fashion.
He was surprised to find Samar's eyes on him.
He thought better of an amiable smile for the woman's lovely face was laced with a very set frown of dissension.
Sensing something definitely amiss, he listened in on Elizabeth's running commentary for a while, having made himself quite comfortable first.
He stretched out his arms, at length interlocking his fingers behind his head. His eyes locked with Dembe's for a beat. He held his grin.
"This should be very enlightening." Dembe confided sotto voce. He turned his head to check on his theory.
Samar sat across from Liz, studying the photos from the impromptu wedding at which Elizabeth had been the self-titled Maid-of-Honor, Red was to hear.
Dembe pulled an 'impressed' face at the news.
"I was lead photographer." he made mention.
"You were the only photographer." Red reminded.
"It was just enchanting Samar." Liz was still caught up in the moment, her eyes bright and wistful. "You would have loved it."
"It looks charming." Samar nodded. "You did a remarkable job on such short notice, I must say." Samar held Dembe's tablet for Liz to see her meaning. "I see... you caught the bouquet."
Liz flushed as she perused the photo, "There were only two other women present." she raised a sheepish look. "I was just faster... it was instinct. It's just a silly superstition, anyway." she laughed.
"If you say so." Samar cackled gleefully and Liz flushed more fully.
"Well, I do say so." she snipped.
Red was the only one who could read the true meaning of that blush. His eyes softened for the fact.
In her haste to move matters along, Liz blurted the first thing to come to mind, "We were searching desperately to fulfill the superstition involving something new." she continued her narrative. "Greg had bought lovely diamond earrings but if you ask me..." her tone altered expressively, "she already had something new."
Samar lifted a lovely brow at Liz's next proclamation.
"Oh!" Liz grimaced, "...Not that I meant anything derogatory."
"She's pregnant?" Samar's brow furrowed two-fold at the new Liz related.
"What's so special about that?" Liz wanted to know. "In this day and age?"
Samar shifted Red an annoyed, disapproving glare.
Red was taken aback by the animosity displayed.
Dembe leaned, his tone low, almost soothing. "I believe, Elizabeth has mistakenly led the lovely Agent Navabi to believe..." he smiled to ease the blow, "you have slept with Greg Forester's new bride... before the actual nuptials."
Red spread his hands helplessly.
"And that the child is... yours."
"Mine?" Red was aghast for all of two seconds. "My God," he leaned his head sideways, "this is rapidly becoming an episode of Young and the Restless."
Dembe inclined his head slightly.
Red cocked his head, a thoughtful expression on the man's face, "I wonder, when my twin brother shows up... will he be the good or evil one?"
"I believe the latter position has already been filled." Dembe muttered.
Red sat back embracing Samar's disapproving glare, "This is simply too entertaining."
"I agree." Dembe sat back, crossing his arms over a well-muscled chest.
Dembe waved the issue aside. "It is a colossal series of exaggerated misunderstandings and perceived implications."
"Well, I know," Red was about to take affront, "but, really." he decided it was more fun not to.
He winked flirtatiously at Samar Navabi instead, which caused the woman's beautiful mouth to pull into an irritated straight line.
Well, that had been a little spiteful on his part, Red admitted.
But Samar urged Lizzy to take him as a lover only. Advising not to get emotionally attached and now, the agent was vexed because supposedly, Red slighted Liz for the young waitress.
Women...
He swirled the dark amber liquid in his glass, musing to himself, holding a chuckle.
To add injury to insult... Samar believed he would shirk his responsibility having left Alison in the family way. At which time, Red callously arranged a marriage to get out of the predicament. Pawning off his illegitimate child to some poor unsuspecting fellow.
Emmy winning material that, he had to concede.
He shrugged mentally.
Liz moved on as well. She was excitedly conveying detail for detail how she and the wait staff transformed the once dismal setting into a fairytale backdrop for young Alison's wedding.
Hearing the 'happily ever after' part pissed Red off royally.
Seemed everyone was allowed a way to be together except him and Elizabeth.
A well of frustration erupted in his gut.
It just wasn't good enough. Nothing he envisioned prevented Lizzy's future from being bleak at best... if she stayed involved with him.
His best offer was to spend their lives on the run, hiding out, waiting for the day they would be found by whatever agency tracked them down.
No...
He would not take Lizzy from the things she loved, her work, friends, home...
He refused to turn her life upside down simply because he had fallen in love with her.
His mind swirled about with concerns, awareness of escape, possible...
The man's brain activity halted suddenly.
"...Marvin," he muttered the name, a thought emerging above all else.
Red quickly drafted a memo to his attorney, outlining his concerns and requirements. He sent the message immediately.
With luck, the lawyer would respond soon.
Sitting back in his chair, he closed his eyes, clearing his mind of everything... for now.
He took the opportunity to recharge.
He did so by resting his mind certainly but more so, by listening contentedly to Lizzy.
That woman always saw the good in life, always seemed so hopeful and buoyant.
The very sound of her voice delighted him.
The way she would blurt out things before she truly thought matters through, amused him.
The warmth of her concern for Aram, who was still suffering a form of jet-lag and wasn't averse to anyone knowing it... warmed his heart.
Red smiled absently, hearing Lizzy's genuine concern and caring as she listened to the continual complaining.
He chuckled at Agent Navabi's curt, "Suck it up... be a man."
Agent Navabi was not one to suffer a man's ailments easily, it appeared.
But his Lizzy was. She hastily soothed the ranks with sympathetic platitudes, ending any threat of strife quickly.
"Now Samar, remember when we were in New Mexico last year and you–"
"Don't bring that up." Samar held her stomach grimacing accordingly. "Please!"
"Okay but, traveling can be... adventuresome." Liz reminded. "Aram isn't used to gallivanting about the country willy-nilly."
Samar let it go and soon, both women were trying valiantly to make Aram's lot in life a little better.
Red kind of envied the guy.
Having two beautiful women hovering over you like mother hens? It was his idea of bliss. Well, one of his ideas, at least.
His phone disturbed the pleasant state he had drifted into. He sighed heavily, answering the call.
"We got him."
Red sat up, opening his eyes, "So quickly?" he was pleased.
"Hunter didn't take into account he could end up being," Silas' rich mellow tone filled Red's ears, "...the hunted.
"They never do," Red muttered his belief.
"Besides, we knew he would be relatively easy to find." Silas continued, the usual boast infiltrating the words.
"I hear a 'but' coming." Red sat his glass aside.
"We knew he would be on either Benton of his wife." Silas side-skirted the issue. "But it was odd... it was almost like he expected us to show up."
Red frowned at the news, lost in thought, "He couldn't have known we saw the photos because they were delivered to the Blacksite, not to me."
"Or that you were involved with Liz," Silas had more time to process, "in whatever form."
Red wasn't involved romantically with the woman at that point.
It didn't make sense... yet.
"Where are you holding him?"
"Francis' office, Monroe and Wabash," Silas replied. "The other one, we couldn't trace. He was using a burner phone."
"We're nearing final approach." Red looked down over the city as it loomed large in his window. "I'll be there shortly."
"Copy that." Silas clicked communications shut.
"Dembe," Red caught the man's attention as he passed in the aisle, "would you be so kind as to inform Edward we will be landing at Chicago-Midway, please."
A half hour later found the passengers deposited on the tarmac, luggage loaded in neutral vehicles, each individual wondering over their role in the upcoming hours.
"I'm assuming you will want to get on Benton." Red surmised.
"And what will you be doing?" Ressler resented not being kept in the loop.
"My priority is elsewhere, as you know."
"You're going to, Sarah." Ressler relaxed.
"We have her and the child safe." Red was annoyed Ressler would think he would wait to do so. "While you're standing here wrestling with protocol measures, Benton is a walking target, may I point out."
"You're trying to get rid of us." Ressler sensed as much.
"My tactics don't always meet with your superior's approval." Red reminded. "What you don't see... you aren't accountable for. Do you want this ended or not?"
Ressler resented being spoken to in such a manner, clear and simple.
Liz sensed as much, "It's not you, he's trying to get rid of." she whispered. "Trust him, Ress." she asked. "He knows what he's doing. He knows how these guys operate. You know that."
"We can deal with your ethics after," Red said, "after we shut down whatever plan that's in the works."
Liz threw the man an impatient sigh, "Let's just do what we have to." she implored. "And pray that everything gels."
Ressler nodded curtly, "I'll text when we have Benton." he turned on his heel, heading for the others.
Minutes later, Dembe drove through heavy rush hour traffic.
Liz sat quietly in the back seat.
Both men kept looking suspiciously at her for the fact.
"I had to piss him off." Red explained his action. "He'll be more alert. He functions much better in a 'livid' mood."
"Who?" she questioned.
Red realized he had been on the wrong track, "Why so quiet?"
"Why didn't you tell Ress you had Hunter Gaines?" she overheard Dembe's report to Red.
"He needs to concentrate on Benton." Red stated. "We don't know how many hit-men were hired... or by whom."
Dembe pulled down a long side-street.
The numerous skyrise buildings and bustling streets packed full with every kind of shopping you could want, caught Liz's attention. It was a shock to the system after the quiet picturesque setting of Montana.
She craned her head, just barely able to see the tops of the towering structures. She closed her eyes a moment, envisioning mountains and open spaces in their place.
The smell of the downtown area shook her out of her imaginings. She crinkled her nose distastefully as the crisp, clean air she had become accustomed to was replaced by popcorn, chlorine, exhaust, and fish.
A train rambling overhead drowned out the delicate sounds of wind rustling leaves and birds chirping. A sharp horn blast a blaring reminder they were no longer in a quaint setting but in the bustling city.
She missed the quiet...
Dembe pulled down a thin alley, dodging lines of trash cans and crates, maneuvering the wide car expertly before pulling alongside out of the way.
Red looked at the woman, dreading the confrontation he sensed on the horizon.
"Let me guess," she guessed, "I stay here and you go in."
"Best case scenario." he nodded.
The woman sighed heavily, settling back into the plush leather of her seat. "It would be kinda stupid of me." she admitted. "If someone has paid this guy to whack me... there's no reason to make it ridiculously easy for him, right?"
Red was taken aback.
"I mean, how do we know this isn't part of the plan?" she waved a hand. "Get himself caught so you bring me right to his little waiting web."
Red didn't think that was the case but, "I am so very proud of you, Elizabeth," he was, "for thinking like that."
"I didn't always." she mused ruefully. "You guys are bad influences."
Red conceded, she had a point.
"Dembe, are you hungry?" she asked amiably. "Should we go get a coffee? Assuming..." she scowled darkly at Red, "there are more good guys in there than bad and you are in no danger what-so-ever?"
"No more than normal." he teased, kissing her gently. "You are being surprisingly rational," the man eyed her suspiciously, "...vigilant."
"Yeah, well.. Don't get used to it, could be a passing phase." she smiled prettily for him. "If I get bored, I'm going for a danish and your ass will be grass if the shit hits the fan because... Dembe is going with me."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." he chuckled, sliding to the door.
She caught his arm, "Silas sent men he trusted, right?"
"I gave him a bonus on his last check," Red acknowledged, "so yes, he did."
Liz rolled his eyes dramatically.
"I'll be fine, and I'll contact you as soon as we're finished."
Liz watched the man walk from the car, at length entering a side door that miraculously opened for his entrance.
Liz slid close to Dembe, watching whatever transpired outside the darkened windows of the car.
Red disappeared but Liz recognized Joe, who poked his head out, his fingers waving jauntily.
Liz waved back frantically but she couldn't be seen through the dark tint of the windows.
Joe continued to wave, even as he secured the door.
His wide grin soured immediately as he sobered at Red's carefully composed expression.
The guard straightened his posture, clearing his throat, "...They're straight down the hall, boss." he pointed, "On the left there."
He self-consciously scratched at his nape, "We've been real polite."
Red lifted a cool appraising stare, "Go have coffee with Lizzy. Take her down to the waterfront."
Joe glanced about motioning another guard into position, "I can stay if–"
"I need to concentrate." Red arched his brow. "Go...to...Lizzy."
"I'm gone." he made good on his word as he bounded for the door without a backward glance. "We'll bring stuff back," he yelled over his shoulder.
"Take your damn time," Red warned. He wouldn't have to worry Lizzy was losing patience as long as she was occupied.
A reluctant smile pulled at Red's mouth but he stubbornly squelched it, his footfalls echoing down the ridiculously long hallway.
About ten feet from the opened portal, a large shadow blocked the light streaming from the room. It grew exponentially along the opposite wall.
Red pulled up short, scowling, "...What in the hell," he grated, "are you doing here?"
Silas' mammoth frame came into view, his handsome face creased with a wicked grin, "I was bored."
"You were recouping, as I recall."
"Quit bitchin'." Silas grumped pushing from the framework of the door, unfolding his muscular arms." I'm getting really hungry."
Red's jaw worked irritably, but he managed, "Has he said anything of import."
"Said he wanted to wait for the Big Cheese." Silas turned following Red down yet another long corridor.
"I'm disappointed in you," Red threw back a look over his shoulder, "You didn't try torturing him? Waterboarding him?"
"You said to be sweet." Silas lied easily. "Besides, you were on approach. How much damage could I have done in such a measly span of time?"
"Consider it a challenge next time." Red continued on. "I have no intention of using kid gloves at such a time or under any circumstances."
"You're bitching at me for wasting times." Silas caught the fedora Red slapped into his chest, following on. "And here you stand... wasting time." he waved a hand in the needed direction.
"I swear to God, Silas," Red muttered his growing discontent, "one of these days–"
"Yeah, yeah," the man opened a door, stepping aside for Red's entrance, "you're going to put a bullet in my head."
"In the ass, more like it." Red snapped indignantly.
"Friction among the troops?" a man sat, seemingly at ease, in a sturdy wooden chair. His expression was almost expectant, an air of amiability surrounding him.
Red stepped closer, coming to stand directly before the man in question, his eyes cool, devoid of any emotion suddenly.
The silence was brittle.
"My goodness," the man winced, "the temperature has certainly dropped in here."
"...Were you ordered to kill Elizabeth Keen?" Red's tone was disturbingly quiet.
"No one orders me to do anything." Hunter Gaines cleared up the misconception. "I was paid to observe and report back for further instructions."
"How did you find her?" Red demanded.
"I was given a name... Amir... Amar?" the guy was totally forthcoming. "He's some kind of computer specialist. Through him, I was able to track her."
Red controlled his expression, careful not to react to anything said. He made a mental note, Aram needed to be shadowed in the future, along with Samar, and Ressler very likely.
He only thought of them in terms of FBI agents. Who, in their right mind, would be stupid enough to...
Or smart enough...
"Have you taken on a protégé?"
"I don't need or especially want one." Hunter's brow furrowed. "Why?"
Red threw the photos down on the tabletop next to the man.
Hunter perused them, "Yeah, I took these." he admitted. "That's my signature mark, which I'm sure you already knew." his scowl increased. "What are you so bent out of shape for? This only shows I have the target in sight."
The silence came yet again.
Hunter looked from Silas to Reddington, "Hey, I backed off the minute I saw your two guys here. See?" he motioned with his head.
Silas moved onto the opposite side of the table, fingering the photos, "You got my best side, I see."
He plopped his ass down on the tabletop, folding his arms leisurely.
"Thought you didn't have a bad one." Hunter quipped. "Look, I put an 'X' on the woman see? Which indicates, I would not complete the job."
Hunter lifted confused eyes, "When I saw Mr. Fantastic here, I figured she was either on the payroll or... under your protection. Was I right?"
Red refused to answer.
"Which means, if I went ahead with the plan, you would hunt me down," Hunter added two and two for them, since they seemed a little slow today, "...and kill my ass."
Red remained silent, that possibility still very much in the works.
"Ergo... I politely backed off." Hunter finished rather eloquently, Red thought.
"Did Lawford say why he wanted her dead?"
"Lawford?" Hunter was all confused. "He didn't hire the hit, what's he got to do with it?"
Red shared a look with his head guard at the unexpected news, "Who did you send the photos to?"
Hunter sighed, "You know how it works." he disdained. "I left them at a designated drop off spot."
Red hoped for more, but yes, he knew protocol in such matters.
"When I received the callback from the interested party, I warned them to back off."
Red processed, rolling his hand slowly to indicate... continue.
"Needless to say, they were not impressed with my less than professional stance." Hunter shrugged. "I get another call, this time from Carver, warning me to back off."
Red stiffened.
"Said he would shuck me like a corn husk if I didn't." Hunter pulled a face. "There is something terribly wrong with that bastard."
He laughed, his expression almost benign, "One of these days, I'm going to pit my strengths against his..." his eyes held an odd light. "Wonder who will win?"
Red studied the man.
There was no fear in his eyes... none.
"Do you know who I am?" Red asked quietly, an odd light within his own eyes.
Do you know exactly what I have become?
The unasked question plagued Red's conscience these days.
"Everyone knows who you are." the younger man shrugged nonchalantly, his movement restricted by the tight bonds. "Everyone who matters at least. If he's there," his head jerked to Silas, "then you are not far away. It's a given, as I said earlier."
Red needed this guy to be afraid. How could he get answers if there was no fear of reprisals?
"I know you by... reputation." Red shrugged. "And more."
Hunter's face remained passive, "Not much to know."
"I disagree." Red made himself comfortable. He hoped this wouldn't take all that long but... he pulled out a chair, seating himself.
He searched his pocket, coming up with a few folded sheets of paper. Dembe was very efficient as well.
He perused the sheets absently for he had already memorized the data within.
"...Says here, Hunter Gaines, a young boy fresh off the farm... Minnesota," Red lifted his brows, "lovely fall weather up there."
Hunter was interested, Red could tell. The man eyed the papers speculatively.
"Entered the Corp, September 1991." Red pretended to read on. "Discharged... honorably." he lifted a stare. "We would expect no less but... look at this," he showed Silas the paper, "A Silver and Bronze Star, four Purple Hearts."
Hunter grinned, "Yeah I pawned them off the first year I was out." he shifted Silas a smug look. "Gave the Hearts to a few women along the way... makes for easy marks, right Silas?"
"How would I know?" Silas didn't want to play.
"Never earned any?" Hunter commiserated.
"Are you thirsty?" Silas countered. "That waterboarding activity is starting to sound so very appealing."
Hunter chuckled, "I almost drowned over in Iraq in," he thought back, "summer of '93. No way in hell I was going to drown in the middle of a fucking desert. I'd be a laughingstock. So I sucked it up. Still..." he grinned, "didn't like to bathe for a long time after that little incident."
"Shouldn't have got captured." was Silas' point of view.
"I was young and green."
"How did you find out about Elizabeth Keen?" Red got matters back on track.
"Usual manner. I have a contact site on the dark web. Sometimes word of mouth." Hunter stated the obvious. "But in the case of Benton... Lawford was an idiot. Contacted me personally even gave his name like it would magically open doors or something."
Red hoped for clarity but this info was only confusing him more. He didn't allow it to show.
"I'm sure you're aware of the flyers being passed around of course." Hunter took for granted. "Those showed up after I turned down the job." the man clarified. "But see, I did you a square. Everyone knows I passed on the job and the why of it all. Those more experienced will be smart enough to follow my lead."
Red flexed his joints, his fingers cracking softly. Silas' people's reputation was working in his favor.
"Still, there is always some up-and-coming newbie that wants to take his place in history," Hunter warned.
"This man who contacted you... concerning Elizabeth Keen..." Red said.
"The first guy," Hunter held no special allegiance to anyone other than himself, "his voice was gravely... smoky like he had too many cigarettes." Hunter perked up. "Like the guy on the X-Files."
Silas shook his head, sighing heavily.
"But the second one," Hunter surprised them all, "his voice was clear... sharp. Younger."
Red tapped the tabletop with his fingers, "You aren't giving me much, are you."
Hunter studied his heavy boots thoughtfully for a long beat, racking his brain, "...I don't know if it means anything," he lifted clear eyes, "but, I heard a boat in the background when speaking to the second guy."
Red's eyes connected with Silas', instant communication passing between...
Tom.
Silas shrugged sturdy shoulders, "We already assumed that loser was involved." he stated the obvious.
Red nodded absently. If what Gaines was saying was on the up and up... some of the top snipers already begged off the invitation.
A small relief right now but Red would take what Fate could give.
If the price on Elizabeth's head was raised, that status quo might shift.
Hunter remained silent, his fingers curled casually about the armrests of his seat.
The guy stared silently at the opposite wall, stoically awaiting his fate.
"We can handle this, Red." Silas' cocksure confidence somewhat reassured.
It wasn't bragging if it was true.
"I wasn't going to say," Hunter wrestled with his conscience in the ensuing silence, "...I'm assuming you still have men on Benton... his family?"
The guy looked a little ill-at-ease like he was betraying something he would rather not, "...I saw the kid."
Red allowed the moment as Gaines contemplated the inevitable.
"Lawford said, if he was out of contact over ten hours at a stretch," he lifted a steady stare, "well, matters were to proceed in rapid succession, if you get my drift."
Red checked his watch. The cut-off point was rapidly approaching.
"Son-of-a-bitch." Silas snapped his pique. "We should have anticipated that little point." his massive fist clenched, his anger at himself apparent.
"Was there an order to this...chain of events?" Red demanded.
"The wife goes first as leverage for Benton to back off." Hunter relayed. "The kid was to be held in reserve if Benton got all high and mighty."
"They want Benton alive?" Silas was surprised.
"A D.A in your pocket is worth two in the bush." Red nodded his understanding. He shifted slate-blue eyes. "We're sure the wife is contained?"
"Contained or not..." Hunter shrugged. "Better to ask, was she traced and is she near a window?"
"We're not stupid." Silas snapped.
"You guys forgot about the computer guy." Gaines reminded. "Just saying. There is always a way, Reddington... if one is patient and vigilant."
Red grasp his hat, setting it properly, fingering the brim into place, "You have been most forthcoming. I won't forget it."
Silas followed the man's retreating footsteps.
"Hey..." Hunter called out, stopping Red in his tracks. He looked a little unsettled, almost embarrassed. "There's no reason you should trust me but... I can help in this."
Silas huffed suspiciously, "Why would you... there's no money to be had now."
Hunter's expression went all askew, "Hey, I didn't contract for the woman or the kid. I don't do that shit..." finally the guy showed a weakness. "Besides, you guys... you don't think like I do."
"Point in our favor." Silas turned to leave.
"No, it isn't," Hunter called out angrily. "I know how it will go down. The guy that picked up the gauntlet in Lawford's absence is a major prick. He won't hesitate to take the shot."
"Or," Red had another theory, "you get a clear shot at Benton... wasn't that in your contract?"
"Does that paper there say anything true?" Gaines' tone held disdain, referencing the report dangling from Red's fingers. "The first guy I took out... what's it say?"
Red exchanged glances with Silas wondering at the turn of events. "An Iranian big-wig... can't remember the name." Red lied. He knew the name. The guy had operated an international sex-slave ring.
The world was a better place without the bastard.
"That was my fifth takedown." Hunter shook his head woefully. "The first guy was the one that turned me down..." the man's jaw pulsed angrily, "I did how many tours of duty... risked my life, just to have some pencil pushing prick tells me I don't qualify for any sort of benefit to help my wife and kids."
The silence was tense all around as each man present contemplated the statement.
"Then I went up the ranks," Hunter's voice softened, his eyes flints of steel. "The Supervisor of Vet affairs... maybe you read about it?"
Silas turned his head, the story familiar.
"A couple of my old Commanding Officers," Hunter remembered fondly, his eyes staring off into space. "You know the ones that sit behind their desks all safe from harm but send others out to die in useless, career-making excursions?"
Every man in that room knew... their faces said as much.
"Go into that town soldiers... Intel says it should be a relatively easy sweep." Gaines laughed hollowly. "This mission is a breeze, a walk in the park. I wouldn't send you in otherwise..."
Red shifted his gaze, his heart constricting for all those lost souls to which Gaines referred.
"Serial numbers on a sheet of paper... that's all we were to them... it's all we still are." Hunter trailed away.
"I did what they trained me to do." Hunter lifted cold eyes, "I killed those who caused harm... the enemy."
The silence lasted for a long stretch. Red searched for something to say because he felt the man's pain but really... there was nothing which could be said.
"My family is well taken care of now." Hunter lifted an even stare. "I can't be with them as much as I like, of course. I can sometimes feel when the demons will come but..." he smiled, "they don't want for nothing and I don't have to sit before a superior bastard and beg for something that rightfully should be given over. I earned... everything I asked for."
Hunter's brow furrowed deeply, "Benton's kid... he's my son's age."
Red's report said Gaines had two children. A two-year-old little girl with blonde hair like her mom and a six-year-old boy... dark hair like his dad.
"I was planning on putting a bullet between his father's eyes... just so my kid," the scowl deepened, "could have the start of a college fund."
Red shook his head. How did things get so complicated in life?
"What the hell does that say about me?" Hunter seemed totally confused... floundering for a beat.
Then his face hardened, "What the hell right do any of you have to judge me?"
Red conceded the fact mentally.
"Not judging you, asshole." Silas walked, his knife slicing the ropes cleanly. They fell away from Gaines' body in a heap on the floor beneath the chair. "You'll be with me and one false move" Silas looked down at the guy, his features grim, "and I'll put a bullet between your eyes."
Red smiled wanly, "But rest assured if it does come to that eventuality, your family will be cared for..."
Silas' face remained the same, dark brooding grimness.
"I'll behave." Hunter's eyes twinkled. "Can't say it doesn't feel odd though... being on the right side again. You guys are the 'right' side, correct?"
"As close as you're gonna get," Silas stated.
"Depends on your definition of, 'right'." Red shrugged.
"Do you get the job done?" Hunter queried. "Would you face the same danger as your men here?"
"I would," Red replied. Oddly, he didn't feel a moment of hesitation for having revealed as much.
Hunter side glanced Silas, noting the man's reaction to his boss' word. The guard remained stoic as was his way. But it was enough for Hunter.
"Then you're on the correct side." Hunter sat straighter in his chair. "I do get my weapon back." he was overly fond of that thing, he knew.
"At the appropriate moment." Silas guided the man's way.
"Say, I heard about that shot you took over in the Congo few years back." Hunter made mention. He rubbed the blood back into his extremities as he walked. "Impressive... two thousand, two hundred and eighty-six meters, wasn't it?"
Silas lifted his head as if recalling the incident.
"Too bad though." Hunter smiled politely. "I bested it... last year. Ecuador. Two thousand, three hundred meters."
Silas pulled up in his tracks, eyeing the guy appreciatively... before tsking his disdain, "Child's play."
"Oh, you've done better." Hunter was clearly doubtful.
Silas smiled... politely, "Shall we go, we're burning daylight."
"Quoting John Wayne won't get you out of this one." Hunter took umbrage. "Really, I need confirmation... and proof."
"Boy..." the term in this instance was definitely derogatory. "I could tell you stories..." Silas relaxed into 'story mode'.
Red followed the two men, half-ass listening to the 'bragging right's' tournament.
He wasn't sure about his decision to take this man along but Red learned early in life... few things were dead certain.
He trusted Silas' gut oft-times more than his own and he knew Silas would watch Hunter Gaines like the proverbial hawk.
Things might just be taking a turn for the better.
Cars were lined up outside the towering building, the alley full of inconspicuous vehicles.
Joe and Elizabeth were handing out coffee cups right and left from cardboard containers.
Red squinted as light refracted off a passing airplane into the building opposite the one they departed. Adjusting his glasses, he took in the scene.
Lizzy approached, handing him a Starbuck's cup, "I got cream and sugar," she motioned with her head.
Red assumed she meant the stuffed bags resting precariously on the hood of Dembe's vehicle.
"...And some of those swivel stick thingies." she rummaged in the bag she held, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth.
He took the pre-offered coffee, "Sweetheart..."
"You have to go meet Ress and I have to sit with Joe." she muttered sagely, before triumphantly producing a small straw like object.
He held his smile, "Stay with, Dembe." he corrected.
"Dembe goes with you, it's a rule." she looked past the man, assuring herself the new guards Silas hired were in place as well.
"And who made this rule?" he tested the waters.
"I made this rule," hands went to shapely hips, "Red Reddington."
He held up his hands, coffee cup and all, "Just asking."
She settled, "Is there something new going on?" she looked to Silas and the new guy beside him. "Is that who I think it is?" she frowned hard. "Is he going to try to cap my ass and if so, why did you allo–"
"He's offered his services." Red interrupted. "Might come in handy."
"That didn't really answer my question." she realized.
"Same old story." Red walked her towards the car, his hand on her back. "Take down the bad guy, save the sort-of good guy."
Liz smiled, following his lead, stepping to the lead vehicle, "Heard anything about Benton yet, one way or other?"
Red shook his head, "No, but things are in the works and moving fast. That's why we better get our asses in gear."
She nodded her understanding.
Joe approached, his expression a puzzled one, "When I left, that guy was tied up like a hog on slaughter day... what happened?" he hooked a thumb Hunter Gaines' way.
"He's not your problem," Red guided Liz over with a gentle nudge, "she's being difficult today." he teased if only to get a reaction.
"Hey!" Liz immediately took umbrage as Red knew she would. "I got coffee, that's all I did!"
"Every Starbuck's run dwindles my fortune down considerably." Red quipped. "But yes... you did well this time. I was thinking of the incident with Lawford."
"Oh, get over it. That was just... habit." Liz had the grace to be bothered... a little. "I stayed out of the way and you know I did."
The man leaned, kissing her forehead lovingly, "Yes, well," he pulled back, lifting a brow, "habits are made to be broken. Keep working on it, hum?"
Liz took his coffee back, a smug look on her face.
She flounced off, disappearing into the back seat of the car in seconds.
Joe laughed, amused for her bravado... and theft.
Red gave the man a 'look', securing Joe's coffee cup in the next instance.
Joe sighed heavily, going off to fetch another before securing his charge.
Liz ducked her head, donut in mouth as he slid into the driver's seat, a ready smile of welcome on her pretty face.
Red quietly contemplated options as Dembe navigated through the busy streets of downtown Chicago.
The man wearily rubbed his face, closing his eyes hoping in that few seconds the caffeine would do its job and clear the cobwebs. He was inundated with the scent of coffee, aftershave and gun oil which permeated the inside of the vehicles cabin.
Which was a step up he supposed, from body odor, sweat and gun oil he and his constituents had been subjected to on past missions.
He swore, even as he felt the rich linen of his suit rub against his thigh, that if he opened his eyes, he would find Silas decked out in fatigues, camo face paint and the guards signature black bandana pulled tightly over that grey-streaked hair.
How things changed... yet always remained the same.
Thoughts came at break-neck speed. He contemplated his lot over the past decade or so...
When had Red's life been reduced to nothing but the next mission? The next life or death situation?
He told Lizzy a short time back those long ago memories seemed as if someone else had lived them.
When the missions started to snuff out that life, he wasn't sure. He knew the exact date he had last seen his family but exactly when his job started invading that life... he wasn't entirely certain.
He only hoped in those dwindling moments with his daughter, he had stopped to cherish that precious time with her.
It was bad enough having lost his family. To think he may have neglected Jennifer...
He understood Hunter Gaines more than he wanted to admit. But Hunter still had a chance at his life... to be with his family. To be with the ones who needed him. To be with those he loved
To heal.
Hunter could not envision that possibility, very likely.
Red could get him counseling. He could set Gaines up with employment that would ensure a steady paycheck. Give him back his dignity and self-worth which, hopefully, would lead to a path back to the man's wife and children.
There was hope for Hunter.
Unlike men like Red Reddington. His family split apart. The damage to his reputation irreversible. He was jaded...
Some would label him broken.
Men like Red Reddington did not have happy endin–
"You do know she's tailing us, correct," Silas muttered the obvious, sliding his full clip back in place, his expression one of slight annoyance.
But then again... Red's mood lifted considerably. Maybe there was happiness to be found for men like him in the guise of a spirited and beautiful brunette whose tenacity often outweighed her good sense.
Red's mouth curved into a reluctant smile. He controlled the urge to turnabout, knowing if he did... the woman in question would instinctively try to duck out of sight.
How that was possible in a moving vehicle was beyond him. He could clearly see the familiar car and very likely Joe, who would be staring at Elizabeth, an odd, puzzled look on his face.
Clearly visible to any and all onlookers for it would never ever occur to the seasoned Veteran to attempt to conceal his presence.
Elizabeth's action were instinct even though she would sheepishly realize it too late.
Joe's continued scowl would aid her in that realization.
The guard would have realized long since that Silas would have spotted the tail.
"I assumed she would." Red's eyes lit with merriment. "And she was doing so well too."
Hunter noted the other car as well, "I thought you two had lost it." he once again leisurely turned his head to check on the whereabouts of Elizabeth's vehicle.
Red put a restraining hand on the man's forearm, "Don't rain on her parade." he chuckled. "She probably truly believes she is being inconspicuous."
Dembe watched the car weave in and out of the heavy traffic, "It would be relatively simple to lose them."
"It would break her heart." Red pooh-poohed such a notion. "Besides.. Joe knows where we're going."
"Wouldn't it be wiser... not having her there?" Hunter was confused. "Do you want her in the midst of what's surely to prove, a dangerous situation?"
"She lives for danger." Silas studiously worked the greased slide of his weapon back and forth. "It's her middle name, didn't you know?"
"Joe has been given his instructions." Red sent Silas an annoyed glance. "He will keep the sneaky little imp duly occupied."
"Will he?" Silas doubted Joe's abilities it seemed. "Keeping that woman diverted is a Herculean task on any given day. If she believes you are in imminent danger... it's like trying to keep a lion from her babies."
"I don't like that analogy... at all." Red scowled.
"That's why he chose it." Hunter assumed, checking with a smirking head guard.
"Lizzy can handle herself," Red stated.
"My God," Silas was aghast, "when did we decide that?"
"She can be our 'go-to' backup plan if anything goes awry." Red decided that much.
"When... anything goes awry." Silas corrected.
"It is what it is." Red conceded.
"You're protecting this woman, putting your lives on the line one second," Hunter was still clearly processing, "and then next, trusting her to come through when the shit hits the fan."
Red craned his neck glancing at the tall buildings along the boulevard they traveled. Too many vantage points from which to take aim, he mused.
Why hadn't he picked a better spot for this rendezvous? Benton himself was the culprit.
The guy was making everyone's life difficult. Instead of staying at his office or at the Court House, both which were heavily secured being state buildings... he decided it was a perfect time to give a lecture at DuPont University to up-and-coming law students.
Ressler and the team secured the guy's safety for the moment but Red could have hoped for a more strategic place from which to extract the target.
Red's team, or Silas', stationed themselves outside the perimeter of the back exit of the University, all attempting to be as inconspicuous as humanly possible in their fully complemented tactical gear.
Red was pleasantly surprised as he gave the pre-arranged signal to Joe in the tail car. The guy immediately pulled over by the green awning covering the beginning of an adjoining alleyway.
He could hear Lizzy's retorts already ringing in the poor guard's ears but the car stayed stationary as Dembe moved further down the street.
Having made a left turn, Dembe brought them down a block over, at length making a right one into the same adjoining alleyway.
"How are the opposing teams getting along?" Red was curious.
"Moore is the only cog in the wheel," Dembe reported. "He doesn't understand the need for outsiders clogging up the works."
"You're quoting David, right?" Silas grinned. "He'll understand better when a bullet whiz's by his head, I imagine." he grinned. "Or, one can hope anyway."
"So you are expecting trouble." Red sighed. Why couldn't anything be simple?
"It's in the air." Hunter philosophized. "Can't you smell it?"
Silas did a running check of the surrounding buildings in his head, "Those trash cans could hamper us... or provide much-needed cover."
"Perhaps that is the noxious odor you speak of..." Dembe delivered straight-faced.
Whether they wanted to, the occupants of the car chuckled quietly.
"You know what the smell is like?" the head guard sought out his own kind.
Hunter listened attentively.
"When the scent of gun oil and sweat blankets you in the second before you take the shot..." the man murmured. "The stillness..."
Hunter contemplated, his stare almost dreamlike.
"When everything stops, the only sound is the wind and your own breath."
Hunter nodded minutely.
Red watched the two men's faces.
Both were devoid of emotion, both pair of eyes blank... seeing something even Red Reddington couldn't see.
"Who's David?" Hunter broke the spell first.
"David Russo... out of Beirut." Silas supplied.
"He went off the grid a few years back." Hunter was confused. "Thought he was dead."
"Just changed employers." Red smiled at nothing in particular. "Where the hell is everyone?"
"Well, if you see them, it would defeat the purpose." Silas scowled. "More to the point, where's the FBI when a guy needs them?"
As if on cue, Moore's head popped out the glass door of the Colleges back exit.
He quickly disappeared having ascertained that their transport was in place.
Out of no-where David Russo appeared securing the unguarded door.
"That wasn't obvious at all," Silas grunted his dissension. "That stupid bastard caused my man to have to show his position needlessly."
"David can explain the folly of Moore's actions later, personally. But right now," Red agreed. "our hand has been forced."
Red flipped his phone open, making the necessary call, "Ressler," his tone curt, "I thought we agreed you'd give my people ample time to secure the area."
"What are you talking about?" Ressler was just as curt.
"Moore showed his hand." Red snapped right back.
"Moore is a fucking idiot but I'm not his keeper." Ressler defended himself.
Red heard the underlying tone. Ressler and Moore were butting heads about seniority... at the worst possible time.
"What the hell do we do now." Ressler sighed irritably.
"Just move the package, we'll be ready." Red snapped the phone shut.
Hunter and Silas already exited the vehicle, Dembe retained his seat for the moment, all hoping for a smooth transfer.
Silas was kinking his neck though, never a good sign. His eyes scanning the windows of surrounding buildings.
Sun glistened off the multitude of mirrored plates.
"Too risky... too populated." he decided, lowering his search to more accessible rooftops and entryways.
"Tempered glass fucks up trajectory..." Hunter mentioned, "two shots minimum." he ran the scenario with Silas.
"We're good on ammo," Silas assured.
"There's a fire escape behind us." the sniper took in the layout.
"Saw it." Silas searched the structure absently. "That's where I would station a few men."
"Did you?"
"David handled it." Silas stepped to Red's side of the car. The guy was already half-way out of the opened door. "How the hell can I protect you if you don't wait for the all clear signal to emerge?"
"They aren't here for me."
"They will always be here for you." Silas countered. "A measly grand or two. Upside the bounty on your head? Hell, I thought about taking your ass out myself from time to time."
"That's why I give you habitual raises... and a dental plan." Red straightened his clothes absently, rising to his full height.
The hair on the back of his neck stood just as high, "You're right," he grimaced, his eyes darting from one alcove to the next, down the small confined area, "this is not going to be a walk in the park. I just felt a target fall on my back."
Silas' weapon was out, hanging by his side. Hunter retrieved a similar side-arm from the arsenal in the car but he kept continuously looking longingly at his rifle with its precision scope.
Red met David's eyes from across the short expanse. The guy was standing, seemingly at ease, a tactical assault rifle resting lightly on his hip but something in those clear green eyes signaled an unease.
"We've searched the perimeter meticulously." Red approached, his steps unhurried. "But something is off... it doesn't feel right." David reported.
Silas nodded, "Lawford hires the best."
"Thank you." Hunter absently, politely accepted the praise.
"They won't be sloppy." David finished Silas' thought.
Ressler appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the exit, his footfalls purposeful as he made his way to the men.
Red entered the small alcove, meeting the man's descent.
"Have to give it to your men, Reddington," Donald spoke first. "They almost made us seem unnecessary."
Red was proud of his men's abilities, trying hard not to show it. A force of habit, not letting anyone know how important people were to you.
"With all this fuss, I have to wonder if Benton doesn't mean more to you than you're letting on." Donald was the suspicious kind. "...You don't have him in your pocket, do you?"
Red raised a brow, "You know your friend better than I do." he said. "Do you think he could be bought?"
Ressler dropped his chin, looking at the wingtips on his shoes... silently.
Red shifted his eyes to David, gauging the guard's assessment. The guard merely shook his head.
It didn't matter. Really, no point wasting time on it.
"I only buy Judges, Donald." Red grimaced distastefully. "Not lowly, D.A's."
For some reason, Ressler felt better, "How tactless of me." he apologized for the faux pas.
Silas and Hunter had not relaxed one iota, Red noted the stiffness of each man's body.
"There's going to be trouble," Red informed the agent.
"It looks clear. Your men are–"
"Looks can be deceiving and although we've only got two-three meters to traverse..." Red cursed the trash receptacles for being in the way, "for a professional... that's enough."
"I've told Benton, but he's being stupid," Ressler's face was grim, "thinks this is all an over-dramatic display of stupidity on our part."
"Has he been apprised of the danger to his wife and child?" Red was flabbergasted by such a cavalier outlook.
"Says Sarah is imagining things..." Ressler said, "the phone calls, the other shit. He says she got this way with the baby when it first arrived. Over-cautious, jumpy at every little sound."
"First, tell that bastard to never underestimate a woman's intuition." Red's temper flared.
Ressler brows lifted at the unexpected remark.
"Maybe we should walk away then." Red fumed. "What the fuck am I risking my men's life for?"
Ressler sighed, heavily, "I appreciate your help, but you're right... something's wrong here. I sense it too. I trust Samar's abilities but Moore and Wilson..." he lowered his voice because the sound of footfalls could be heard approaching, "I don't know them from Adam. I'd appreciate someone at my six I know will cover my ass when shit goes downhill."
Red checked with Silas for the man's approval. It would be his and his men's neck on the line more than anyone.
Silas' jaw clenched, wondering if the possible casualties were worth it.
"The guy's a douche, but his kid..." Hunter murmured to the man beside him. "We can do this." he counseled. "Four, five minutes tops."
Silas jerked his head in approval.
"Can't we get the show on the road all ready?" Moore's face was impatience itself. "What's the hold up?" he led the way, Wilson following, and Samar's pretty legs just in view of the top stairs of the landing.
Red waved a nonchalant hand, "Be my guest." he indicated the opening which awaited.
Moore's expression slipped, his eyes falling on the suddenly very open and vulnerable breezeway.
"Come on, people." a handsome man in an expensive suit pushed his way past Samar and Wilson's protective circle. "Aren't we being a little overly cautious here?"
Red sized the younger man up with shrewd eyes.
"Donny," the guy jovially slapped the agent on the shoulder, "I love all this attention," he playfully jabbed at Ressler to lighten everyone's mood, "you're overreacting, fella."
"Could be," Donald replied stonily. "But I'm not going to be the one to notify Sarah if our Intel proves to be correct."
Benton sobered a bit, "Sarah is a reactionary, always has been and I've had threats on my life before, believe me."
"Oh, I believe someone has threatened you before..." Red narrowed his eyes at the man. "Though, never has the threat been from someone of Lawford's caliber," he said. "Shocking, I know."
Benton eyed the man, a puzzled scowl lacing the darkly tanned features, "Don't I know you?"
The silence was palpable.
"Anyway," Benton let it go, "Lawford is in custody. End of story."
"Could be the end of yours." Ressler grated. "You better start taking this shit seriously. You haven't dealt with anyone like Lawford before. His reach isn't limited by jail bars."
"You need to take Donny here seriously," Red's patience was waning, "and shut the hell up. Every second you delay here puts my men in danger and quite frankly, I'm beginning to second guess my assumption your ass is worth it."
Red turned on his heel, pushing out the glass partitions, stalking to the side of the breezeway cover.
Silas moved to a better position, across the bricked stepping path. Hunter Gaines was nowhere to be seen but Red wasn't worried because he knew, Silas knew where the man was.
Ressler organized a quick order of accession with Aram taking lead.
The computer geek bravely ventured forth to the glass doors as directed by Samar.
He clutched his precious bag protectively to his chest, ducking his head, taking the plunge secure in Mr. Reddington's assurances.
David grasped Aram's arm, gingerly guiding, leading him into the specially reinforced safety of the spacious van which awaited.
Red noted a niche behind that van that could possibly provide extra cover if needed.
It was something in his nature. It was something he did. Something that kept him alive all these years.
"Surely this is only harassment, Donny." Benton's face lost its jovial mood, his eyes worried now. "These cases bring out the worst kind of people."
Ressler ignored the byplay, sending Samar and Wilson through.
Samar sidled up to Red, tucking inside the man's peripheral vision, just behind his shoulder.
He could feel her warmth, smell the crisp aroma of Shea.
Wilson made good time, but he did not enter the van, taking up a tactical spot on the very spot Red wanted to utilize himself.
Red's brow furrowed darkly.
Samar smiled, sensing the interplay, "Did he steal your place in line?"
Red ran his hand around his nape, "Stay close, Samar."
The woman fell silent, picking up on the tension.
"We can deliberate the issue later." Ressler motioned Benton forward then stepped in front of his charge. "Let's just get you to Sarah and the kid."
"...They are safe though?"
"Oh, now it's sinking in." Ressler snapped then altered his stance, putting a firm hand on Benton's shoulder. "Stay low out there."
David hunched his body over the District Attorney, fingers tight about Benton's upper arm as they moved in unison across the open space to the van.
Immediate gunfire erupted from a second-story window. Taking most by surprise even though everyone expected trouble.
Silas and Hunter lifted ready weapons at the sound of shattering glass milliseconds before the shots rang out.
Red's arm went out instinctively, barring Samar's intended run for cover.
David went down hard taking his charge with him. Blood splattered from David's thigh but between Donald Ressler and Russo's handling, Benton was shoved headlong into the opening of the van.
Aram pulled Benton into the recesses.
Red laid down cover fire while Wilson pulled David into the van.
Ressler rolled under the vehicle gauging his options.
Silas miraculously obtained a double-barreled shot-gun which he was using to his advantage for this close contact attack.
Two men emerged from the end of the alley after the first shots.
They were put out of action by Silas' men who waited patiently for just such an advance.
Several shots reigned down from different rooftops, however.
One of Silas' sharpshooters was systematically eliminating that threat however from the neighboring rooftop.
The enemy had a perfect line of vision to the van's location and were causing havoc with Silas' ground team.
Silas commanded men up the cleared stairwell, moving to join them, but Red waved him off.
Ressler rolled clear of the van, crawling forward on his forearms. He jerked, flinching as loud pings ricocheted off a nearby railing.
A man stepped out from an opposite doorway, coming out of nowhere.
He had Ressler in his sights.
Samar's back was pressed against Red's. He heard the repeated sound of her regulation weapon being put to good use and the occasional swaying as she was forced to change out clips.
Red lay his own weapon over the top of a electrical junction box to steady a shot.
Ressler tucked quickly, rolling aside as a bullet embedded itself close to his head.
Red took his shot and Ressler's antagonist fell crumpled into the shadows of the doorway he exited from.
Ressler's eyes flit quickly over the scene. He rose to his knees, firing off two quick shots.
Unfortunately, his second shot went wide, giving the new assailant ample opportunity.
Donald felt the molten fire tear through his body. The agent fell into an ungraceful heap about two, three meters from Red's position.
Red could see into the opened van. Aram's body was protecting Benton's. The agent's face was chalky but his eyes were clear and not panicked.
Moore was blocking the vehicle, still firing at some unseen perpetrator.
He was in the way of the van moving.
"Moore!" Samar yelled at her contemporary. "Get Ressler in the van! You're blocking it! Move!"
A small window beside Red shattered, spraying him and the woman with bits of sharp, stinging glass.
He pushed Samar back into a corner, protecting her with his body. As he lowered his head, shards of glass fell from the rim of his fedora.
He checked his clip.
"That fucking idiot!" he gritted his teeth. "If he would move–"
Dembe had made his way to a nearby trash can.
Red felt better knowing the man was close by but then where else would he find Dembe?
The battle waged on...
"We have to do something!" Liz gripped the dashboard, her fingers white as she watched the carnage taking place.
"If that fucking idiot would get out of the way of the van..." Joe yelled into his radio yet again but no one copied his request.
Liz bit her lip nervously, holding her breath, her instincts screaming as loudly as Joe's orders.
She could not see Red or Samar. They were hidden from her sight.
She had seen Ressler go down. The man lay unnaturally still.
Out of nowhere, a large hulk of a man appeared from the van.
David Russo single-handedly man-handled Ressler's unresponsive body into the van.
Out of a second-story window, a man fell with a shrill scream of surprise and horror.
Liz saw the body break through the shattered window pane but the surrounding buildings blocked the actual fall.
Silas recognized the sound of Hunter Gaines' special-made weapon resounding overhead.
He watched the body fall and hit with a sickening thud.
He turned his attention upward for a millisecond.
There was no sight of Gaines but he wouldn't expect there would be.
They had someone else on a higher-level now. The playing field was leveling out finally.
The driver backed the van ever so slowly down the long, endless alleyway.
Moore moved along with it, finally making a dash for the doorway as he was given no option but to do so.
Dembe's position was now the one closer to the slowly creeping vehicle.
He rolled effortlessly into the opening, seeing to the wounded as he waited for an opportunity to get Red assistance.
Silas heard the distinct sound of sliding metal, swirling about.
A man was positioned on the fire escape. Red Reddington in his sites.
Red was unaware, too concentrated on protecting Samar Navabi's sweet ass.
Silas fired.
The fire escape guy staggered back, hitting hard into the brick of the building. He lost his balance, leaning precariously over the thin railing.
Fumbling for a handhold and finding a convenient rung... he hung there in mid-air for a lifetime before his hold weakened.
Liz grimaced painfully at the sight of the man bouncing off the unforgiving concrete below.
Silas took the opportunity to make his way to Red and Samar for Hunter Gaines was giving their foes a hell-of-a-fight upstairs.
Silas could hear the distinct pop-pop of his own unit's weapons too.
They reached their objective.
The second-floor assault would be shut down shortly.
Hunter leaned over the parapet, grinning down at the trio of gawkers, "They don't give up, do they?" he grinned.
"I don't respect a quitter," Silas yelled back. "Do you?"
"I wouldn't hold it against them right now." Hunter laughed, ducking back quickly as a bullet almost took his ear off. "Whoo! I heard that one!"
Silas rolled his eyes, a reluctant smile pulling at his mouth.
"You guys go on. We've got this covered for a while!"
"Not too long a while!" Silas glanced at his watch. "Your time's almost up, cops are on the way!"
The van hit the bumper of Red's car, shoving it back. Dembe dashed from the van, sliding over the hood of the car, taking his place behind the wheel.
Red knew the guy would not budge one iota until he was sure Red was safe and contained.
"Raymond!" Dembe yelled through the open passenger sides of the doorways he flung open.
"Take her!" Red barked the order.
"No!" Samar balked. "We all go!"
Silas' eye ticked but did as Red bid. His strong forearm slid about Samar's waist as he lifted effortlessly, falling into a hasty run.
The burn and strain of his broken ribs caused the guy to grunt loudly but he did not once break stride.
Red lay down cover fire.
Hunter Gaines more than did his part, the expert marksman hitting his target time after time.
Liz was on tenterhooks having to sit and watch and... do nothing.
She could see Samar now.
Silas moved too rapidly, Samar's feet all but dangled at the guy's side.
He tucked the woman against his body, falling into the open passenger seat. Their momentum throwing them towards Dembe.
Red breathed a sigh of relief, "Hunter!" he yelled over the constant barrage.
"Still here."
"Silas will order his men out now, you go with them!"
Red could hear the distant scream of sirens approaching.
"Aye, sir!" the man snapped off a smart salute. "It's been a hell of a ride!" laughter echoed down the alleyway.
Red caught Silas' eyes. Dembe waited, one foot out the open doorway, ready should he be needed.
Red gave a nod before both men lay down resounding blasts which echoed down the way, deafening those gathered.
Dembe took his place in front of his passenger who slipped effortlessly into the back seat.
In seconds, Red Reddington having been secured, the vehicle backed rapidly down the alleyway, making a path for the van to follow.
Dembe executed a sharp turn around the large, lumbering cargo transport whipping into the opposite alleyway.
Wilson followed the cars lead for he, himself, had no idea where the hell to go.
Shots were intermittent however and the only real worry seemed to be, would the thick glass hold up still under the constant bombardment of well-placed shots.
Wilson winced as a bullet shattered directly in front of his face. He watched the shards splinter in beautiful geometric shapes within the structure of the windshield glass.
He wasted no time in steering the van into the relative safety of the adjoining alley.
Dembe already exited onto the street. Another car pulled rapidly away from the curve.
Wilson acted on instinct, turning the van in the same direction of the second car.
Red and Dembe fell in behind the large vehicle as it screeched away, in seconds already half-way down the block, almost to the intersection.
The light was red but Joe floored the lead car through... Wilson ignored the approaching traffic, speeding behind.
Dembe laid down on the horn, managing to miss an overzealous Dodge truck, whose owner was too busy looking at road signs to note the ruckus taking place around him.
Red held on to the safety strap of the car implicitly trusting in Dembe's reflexes, his attention on the caravan in front of him.
"David?" he asked grimly.
"I've got a tourniquet on the leg, his body armor protected anything vital." Dembe kept pace with the van easily. "Agent Ressler... I had no time to assess."
Red was silent. Cop sirens were louder... closer but behind them.
"We have to get off the grid," he stated the obvious, he knew. "Head for the Emmisary Hotel."
Dembe shot through yet another light mindless of the screeching and honks his actions received. "Chicago is a bustling town."
Red couldn't help but crack a smile, "I believe we have worn out our welcome."
Dembe lay into the gas pressing the men into their seats with the motion.
Red made a few calls.
Kaplan's team was put on alert, first and foremost. The second was to the lead car, giving Joe the directive on their escape route which now changed due to Ressler's state... whatever that might be. And of course, David's, who valiantly risked his own safety for that of a perfect stranger.
The Emmisary's sharply etched roofline was rapidly approaching.
Red wanted desperately to speak to Lizzy, to hear her voice but there were matters of import to which he must first attend.
He waited impatiently for his third call to be connected.
"Where the hell are you?" Francis Holbrook's voice broke the silence on the line.
Dembe pulled into the back of the impressive hotel having followed the lead cars.
"No time for pleasantries," Red's clipped tone interrupted, "get your men in Chicago to secure Lawford's holdings... is it doable?"
"Ooh!" Francis perked up happily. "Is this a birthday gift?"
"Wrapped in a bow and everything." Red evaded. "Can you do it?"
"Consider it done." Francis was already tapping into files on his computer, his fingers flying quickly over the keyboard. "I sense trouble in Dodge City?"
"Whatever dirt you can dig up must be handed over to the proper authorities."
"What the hell kind of present is that?" Francis' disappointment was acute. "I wanted to keep it for myself."
Dembe slid into place, putting the car in park. The man exited the driver's side.
"That's what your men are for, you twit!" Red grumbled. "You can keep the goods. I want the other charges you have on Lawford."
"Oh, the boring shit." Francis was pleased. "You want all of it? The tax evasion, racketeering and–"
"Anything to nail his ass, but good," Red confirmed.
"What brought this about?" Francis was curious.
"Let's just say, he overstepped." Red twisted his mouth distastefully.
"So I take it," Francis switched computer screens, correlating with another set of files, "Lawford is out of the scene?"
"If you do your job, yes."
The sound of typing tapered off, a stilted silence filling the line. "I would like to think this was a surprise gift for me..." Francis said lightly, "but you wouldn't have gone after Lawford for kicks." the young man sobered. "...Is he the one trying to hurt Lizzy?"
Red hesitated, unsure how to respond exactly, "...Indirectly. It's a long story, Francis. One I can't get into right now. I have to see to my people."
"Understood." Francis did. "One thing before you go. Is Lizzy all right? Is she with you? I can go to her if need–"
Red looked at Lizzy.
The woman waited patiently outside the van, throwing occasional looks his way.
Ressler was being unloaded with precision care.
David walked into the hotel on his own... well, limped in under his own power.
"She's with me, she's fine." Red's tone softened. "Blissfully unaware of my business for the day," he stressed.
"And is to remain blissfully unaware." Francis understood the tone well.
"I'm glad we understand one another," Red replied shortly.
"I'll get back to you. I have more on the slimy bastard coming out of New York." Francis read the data rapidly. "How urgent is this?"
"Stay on it," Red stated. "I'll be held up here for a while. I'll have more in an hour."
"That's sufficient time to secure Lawford's holding's there." Francis relayed.
"I'll be in touch."
Both men signed off.
Red hauled ass, heading directly for his team and the waiting arms of... Elizabeth Keen.