JUNE 24
Red Reddington prided himself on the fact he was an excellent compartmental thinker. He wasn't doing so well at the moment, however.
Staring sightlessly out the large windows, Red mused inwardly, contemplating... everything going down this fine day.
Given the fact there had been a smattering of hungover guests in house and they were nearing the departure time for their brief side trip, one of which he was dreading, to Nebraska... the morning had started on a high note.
Not only had he and Elizabeth had ample opportunity to laze in bed; he had also been allowed to finish breakfast before a text intruded on their relatively quiet morning.
Red retreated to his office to officially begin the day, leaving Lizzy to pack an overnight bag should they be delayed in Nebraska for whatever reason.
A guard passing by entered Red's field of vision, disturbing his focus, breaking him from his silent woolgathering. Shaking away the cobwebs, he turned back to his laptop, refocused.
Tapping idle fingers on his desktop, he scanned the screen once more, rereading the information provided.
Marvin Gerard had gone above-and-beyond, compiling a list so extensive and detailed... it made Red's immunity agreement pale in comparison.
Every conceivable bylaw, regulation and stipulation afforded by law pertaining to his relationship with Elizabeth, was right here at his fingertips.
It was all precise, if not meticulous in its clarity. Marvin not only planned for every question which may have come to mind, but every imaginable continency as well.
Red would have normally grasped all the legalese without issue, but today... it made his head spin.
Without conscious thought, Red stepped towards the windows, his eyes scanning the vast green space.
He watched a pair of grasshoppers jump from one flower to another, sharing a mutual desire to escape the hot sun and seek sanctuary in the cool shade.
Trailing their synchronized movement, his gaze landed on the bold colorful hues of the stained glass Lizzy hung in the window.
Though majestic in appearance, sitting tall and proud in the surrounding indigo blue waters; the ship with its weather-beaten sails listed heavily.
The rugged and battered bow cut an unrelenting path through the rough seas, pushing with determined persistence to continue its laborious journey.
Red felt very much like that timeworn, haggard ship most days.
He scolded his melancholy thoughts, knowing full well he was gifted smooth sailing days more often than not, now that Lizzy was by his side.
No matter how unstable and chaotic life was at times, Elizabeth's presence made the voyage bearable, pleasurable, exciting and fun.
Which was why he was having such issue with what Marvin offered now, he supposed?
"Raymond?" Dembe tapped politely, pushing the door open. "We're scheduled to leave shortly."
"...Right," Red nodded, realizing the time, "...yes."
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Silas scowled, having followed Dembe's entrance to Red's sanctuary.
Though Raymond didn't appear to have registered the comment, Dembe cut the guard a reproachful glance as he gathered Raymond's laptop.
Silas shrugged mentally, finally remembering the day's plans, which more than explained Red's pensive mood.
It wasn't as if he hadn't seen it all before.
A year or so ago, after learning of the existence of a trunk which contained a part of Red's past, Reddington had rapidly turned into a first rate son-of-a-bitch.
It hadn't really been a surprise that even after securing the item and hiding it from sight, Red had reverted to drinking and being reckless... until finally being called on the carpet by Dembe.
It was rare Dembe got cross, but when he did... a wise man paid attention.
Dembe's stern intervention and stoic reminder that there were other people in the world and that one very important one, Elizabeth Keen, needed Red's attention and assistance... quickly snapped Red from his funk.
The man focused once more on his goal... though still looked for a fight at every opportunity, Silas remembered fondly. Oh, for the good old days.
Both men hoped now, however, with Liz in house... she would temper Red's foul mood before it even began.
"Raymond, I can see to this matter." Dembe offered. "There is no need for you to–"
"No, no," Red waved his friend off, "I'm fine, just... thinking."
Dembe and Silas shared a quizzical look as Red absently gathered his jacket and pocketed his phone.
Moving the cursor, Dembe frowned as he noted the opened page. "Marvin Gerard got back to you."
Crossing his arms, Silas leaned against a nearby bookshelf, waiting for the forthcoming story to unfold.
"What did he say?" Silas asked after a lengthy silence, because no explanation was forthcoming from a perpetually scowling Red Reddington.
Relating the man's letter and its attached content, Red looked about curiously.
"This is good news." Dembe ventured.
"Is it?" Red murmured tightly.
Both men watched Red vacantly search the room, retracing his steps a dozen times over.
"Why is this a problem?" Silas asked. "I sense it is one, for whatever the hell reason."
"Elizabeth deserves better than damn loopholes and escape clauses..." Red muttered his distaste. "Where the hell is my phone?"
"In your pocket." Silas grumbled for the man's overly distracted demeanor.
"Raymond," Dembe soothed, "it means nothing. It is only a backup to protect you and Elizabeth."
"I was under the impression for the last twenty some odd years we've been... freelancers," Silas pushed off the bookcase, "and that you planned to rectify this farce."
"I am," Red scowled, "...I will."
"At which time," Silas prodded, "the loopholes and shit won't matter... correct?"
Red looked to Dembe for assistance, only to find his own confidant nodding in agreement.
"Neither of you see this as a problem?" Red scowled. "That our life... her life is reduced to relying on–"
"What a dense idiot you are." Silas cut to the chase.
Red snapped his head about, instantly on the defense.
"If Liz wasn't in it for the long haul," Silas leaned his fists into the desktop, looking the man square in the eye, "... she wouldn't be with you."
While there was some truth to the guard's statement, Lizzy hadn't encountered the full force of the ridicule she would face if, or when, their relationship became public.
"The reality is... she is involved." Silas reminded. "Would you have it any other way?"
Sighing, Red closed weary eyes, wishing there was a way... some damnable way to soften the blow, to protect her. "Elizabeth is–"
"...Elizabeth is coming." Dembe alerted the man, hearing Elizabeth's soft footfall nearing the office.
"You're Red Reddington, when have you let shit like this stop you from having what you want." Silas grated quietly. "Stop dicking around and man up."
Red cleared his throat as Lizzy tapped on the door before pushing it slowly open. "Come in, sweetheart."
Peeking around the corner, Liz smiled softly. "Are we still heading out?"
"We are," Red nodded, grasping his satchel. "Dembe, we'll grab our bags and meet you at the car."
He fought against his urge to drag his feet as he comprehended the full weight of what was coming next.
It appeared this day was going to be wrought with emotional turmoil.
He hoped this would be a time to think about his present and future; his attention was instead diverted... to his past.
He didn't know why this surprised him. When had his past and present ever not collided?
Steering Elizabeth towards their bedroom, he absently grabbed his bag, filling its contents on automatic pilot.
Tossing his toiletries in his bag, "You did pack a–" he thought pattern evaporated.
"I did," Liz replied quietly, instinctively sensing Red needed the hushed tone.
While Red's practiced and efficient movements were normal... his silence was not.
She understood Red well enough now to know he was carrying a heavy-weight. He was lost in some contemplative thoughts; personal, private thoughts.
Elizabeth understood to a degree.
She knew, when she went through Sam's estate, she needed that quiet. She needed time to sort through all her scattered thoughts and make sense of it all.
While Red's family was not dead; the life they once lived... once shared, was destroyed beyond recognition.
That Red had to face the relics of what had been his whole world at one point in time... had to be incredibly painful.
If she had learned nothing else from Sam's death, one thing hurt the most.
"Are you all right?" people would solicitously enquire. Of course, she had not been 'all right'. The question, as harmless as it had been, brought the situation back into glaring, painful focus.
She knew Red wasn't, so why rub his face in the fact?
Red zipped his case closed, clutching the strap in his tight grip, turning to face her. He looked as though he was prepared for battle... but already lost to the war.
She so desperately wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but in reality... she didn't know what the day would hold.
She could only guess what they would be coming face-to-face with but, she assumed, based on Red's rigid demeanor... it was not going to be a good day for him, at all.
And there wasn't much she could do to alter the fact, no matter how much she wished.
Offering the man a warm smile, she picked up her purse and bag before Red could grab it himself.
Frowning, Red relaxed in his posture when Lizzy's placed her arm through crook of his.
"I'm ready if you are," she murmured.
Not wishing to rush him, she stood in place, silently waiting for Red to take the first step.
Red placed a small, gentle kiss on her fingers, appreciating that she ignored his momentary lapse in judgement and common sense.
"...Thank you, Lizzy," he muttered softly, thankful for her understanding... and support.
Looking to the men opposite her, Liz covertly lifted her watch, enquiring how much longer the flight would be.
Dembe looked at his own watch, before alerting her they would very shortly land.
Silas stood just as unobtrusively, stretching his back. Grasping their glasses, he made way for the galley to prepare for the end of the flight.
She had grown to love Dembe and Silas as if they were her own family, but in moments such as this... she was ever so grateful for their presence.
In the last hour... all had fallen silent, each under a different guise to allow Red quiet time to himself.
Giving the men an imperceptible nod of gratitude for their solicitation, Liz settled into her former position, cuddling to Red.
Dembe had managed to occupy Red with business details to keep his mind active, off his doldrums.
After offering her a fresh drink, Red sat comfortably beside her. Aside from a quick bathroom break on Liz's part... he hadn't left her side since then.
Every so often, Red would rub her thumbnail as if it were his own personal worry stone until he became lost in thought and the movement would ebb.
Only when the man's brow furrowed drastically, would Liz offer his clenched fist a gentle squeeze, pulling him from his thoughts.
Like clockwork, the man would look to her, offer a warm smile and ask of her comfort... was she hungry or thirsty... mindless to the fact he had done so just five minutes before.
For the umpteenth time, Liz offered her silent support as his fingers tightened about her slender ones, the plane banked, alerting all onboard they were on final approach.
"You know," she murmured to the tense man beside her, "I am a bit hungry now."
Just as she hoped, Red's focus shifted to other matters than what plagued him, suddenly intent on the perceived problem. The man was a born problem-solver; it is who he was.
She smiled warmly as the man grimaced, realizing how near they were to the ground and landing.
"Why didn't you say something, baby," her comfort now Red's main focus, "I'm not sure what we have onboard–"
"Do you think," she interrupted, "we could maybe stop somewhere?"
She hoped getting Red fed would put him in a better frame of mind.
"It's rare just the four of us get time together." she brightened.
Red inwardly grimaced at the thought. Not only was his appetite nonexistent, he had been hoping to confirm the contents of the storage building, have them shipped where ever... and leave immediately without anymore fanfare than needed.
But Lizzy was hungry. On top of that, she appeared happy for the chance to sit down, just the four of them, like old times.
"...Yes," Red smiled, "we can do that." he sat upright, forcing his doldrums aside. "There's a great place Dembe and I stumbled over last time we were here."
"I thought you might have somewhere in mind," her attitude matched his altered one.
While she was positive Red was striving for a lightness he did not feel one iota; she breathed a sigh of relief the man would at least put up the pretense of getting some sort of sustenance down, if only to placate her.
So preoccupied by Red's dilemma, she was surprised to feel the wheels of the jet touch the ground and glide down the runway. She was even more surprised to find her grasp relaxed and normal on Red's forearm.
Red beamed his pride as he glanced at his arm, "Look... no gouges from those well-manicured fingernails." he teased.
"You'll be a world traveler yet..." he smiled encouragingly.
Liz lay her head against Red's shoulder, enjoying the rich vibration as he chuckled at Silas' retelling an incident in which they had inadvertently fallen victim.
It was nice to hear Red laugh. It had taken the combined efforts of Dembe and Silas... and a tumbler of scotch for the man to lose some of the tension in his shoulders.
Though, by the end of lunch, he had joined in along with Dembe, peppering the conversation with side dialogue.
Both men helpfully inserted information Liz was positive Silas was intentionally censoring in effort to draw Red into the conversation.
The melancholy Red carried was not as pronounced as earlier, for which Liz was grateful, though she sensed his heavy sigh as they neared their destination.
Gliding to a stop alongside a mounted keypad, Dembe efficiently tapped in a code, opening the gate.
Silas hopped from the passenger seat, holding the gate open for the following box trucks before rejoining them in the car.
Liz glanced curiously aside as she felt a slight vibration in the seat, finding Red's leg tapping restlessly as they drove further down the long alley.
Reaching, she lay a calming touch on his knee, smiling gently. "It will be over before you know it."
Red lay his hand over hers, grasping it in his own as Dembe inched down the straightaway until slowing to a stop.
As was their custom, Dembe and Silas exited the vehicle, getting a feel of their surroundings while directing the trucks to set up.
"Are you okay?" she grimaced, having not meant to say that. "I mean," she groaned internally, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to ask that."
Red's eyes softened as the woman beside him shook her head dejectedly.
"That's an annoying ass question," she rattled, "I mean, I realize you're..." she sighed woefully, knowing none of this was coming out right... at all.
"I'm not sure what I'm feeling, baby." he searched for the correct emotion, "I feel..."
"Numb?" she ventured a guess.
"...Yes," Red confessed. "Normally, I would manage this a little... better."
Liz frowned, but held her tongue. Now wasn't the time to dissect Red's words.
"But Miguel's death, Javier's betrayal, Marvin's email, and this..." he rattled off, gesturing to the oversized building. "I'm... struggling, Lizzy."
Liz blinked her shock, having not expected Red to be so straightforward and unambiguous.
"I've always desired to be like you," Liz confessed. "That in a time like this, I'll say something profound or poetic that makes everything better but," she shrugged helplessly, "all I've come up with is..."
Red focused on their intertwined fingers, rubbing his thumb along the edge of her ring.
"I'm here..." she continued, "you don't have to do this alone." she stroked his fingers comfortingly. "Share your burden with me and maybe we can find some sort of balance."
Huffing quietly under his breath, Red turned towards her, a hint of a smile on his face, "That sounded profoundly poetic to me."
Reaching, she wrapped her arms about the man, burrowing into him.
"We can do this." she whispered into his neckline. "You can do this."
After a few quiet moments, Red took a steadying breath, composing himself before pushing the door open.
Sliding out behind the man, Liz instantly placed her palm in his. They approached Dembe punching in a string of numbers into yet another elaborate keypad.
"According to the information Antonio provided," Dembe said as the door unlocked, "the bay doors open from the inside."
Liz frowned as Silas stepped forward, weapon at his side. Red tugged her elbow, backing her out of the way as both Dembe and Silas opened the door, their weapons raised.
Quickly scanning their surroundings, Silas inched forward, sweeping the area before relaxing his mammoth frame. He motioned an 'all clear'.
Reaching, Dembe flicked an overhead light on, stepping into the sizable space. "We'll open the bay doors momentarily."
"Did you expect someone to be here?" Liz questioned quietly.
"Well, who knew..." Red granted. "After Antonio informed us he freed two of Javier's men–"
Liz gasped her shock, "Why would he do that?"
"He wished them to spread the word, you were under his protection." Red confided.
"What do I have anything to do with–"
"I believe we were both included," he stressed, "only Antonio did not wish to aggravate me by saying so aloud... which is so unlike the guy, I know."
Liz tilted her head curiously, wondering why Red would consider Antonio's protection such a horrible thing?
Understanding Lizzy's expression well enough, Red arched his brow, "I can take care of myself, you know."
"I'm sorry," she countered, withholding her smile, "didn't you get shot just the other day?"
She tittered softly under her breath as the man shifted narrowed eyes her way. Her gentle laughter caught in her throat as the large metal door beside her rolled upward without warning.
Silas scowled as he came face to face with the woman and her startled expression. The scowl deepened when he found nothing untoward, then glanced behind him, understanding dawning.
"What?" the guard frowned. "You didn't take Red for the Land Cruiser type?" he said, gesturing to the mid-size grey Toyota.
Red had fallen eerily silent the moment the warehouse contents came into view.
"I didn't either, truth told," the guard shrugged, knowing how to ease the moment instinctively, "I was always a Bronco man myself."
Red slowly scanned the large space, his mind in shock.
He had been unaware they amassed this many remnants from his previous life.
Though, maybe he shouldn't be surprised. As word spread of Red's predicament, his old neighbor, Sgt. Matt Tucker had commandeered what he could from the Reddington household before the military could seize the contents.
By chance, Miguel heard of Tucker's plans to sell a 'real life traitor's memorabilia'.
Through an intermediary, Miguel offered an amount so exorbitant... Tucker had called to cancel future appointments with other potential buyers.
True to his word, Miguel had purchased all Tucker had in his possession, then shared a good laugh with Red days later, when they heard Tucker had been taken into custody for passing counterfeit bills all over base.
Being caught between a rock and a hard place, Tucker confessed he had been party to the deceit, explaining how he came into possession of the bogus bills.
While Tucker's punishment had only consisted of being demoted in rank and confined to the brig for three months, it still had done Red's heart good at the time.
As he passed container after container, Red realized all their contents had been organized and labeled. Why Miguel had gone to so much trouble...
Red's mind traveled back, unbidden, to other times... other places.
Miguel had lost his first wife, Sophia, and would more than understand how cherished these artifacts were and should be provided safekeeping.
While Miguel knew the heartbreak of losing a loved one, he was also awarded the gift of a second chance at life... and love.
Red had always been envious of Miguel and Elena's relationship. They had their fair share of laughter and passion.
But it was the mutual respect, support and love they provided one another, Red wished for most in his own life.
Elena had not only gone out of her way to remember Sophia's memory by cajoling her husband to share stories of their time together, but had placed a portrait of Sophia and Miguel on their wedding day alongside Miguel with Elena on their wedding day above the mantel.
Once, while staring at the photos, Red remembered feeling stunned Elena had not tried to erase the existence of Miguel's first wife.
Closing his eyes, he remembered back to a quiet conversation they shared following his discovery.
"Sophia was beautiful, was she not?" Elena had said as she came alongside Red, glancing fondly at the woman in the photograph.
"She was... just as you are," Red told the truth as he saw it.
"They loved each other so," Elena smiled fondly, tracing their young faces with a gentle finger. "I wish sometimes," her eyes softened, "things had happened differently for them."
Red's brow furrowed then and now, remembering her wistful face. "Miguel loves you, Elena."
"Oh, I know..." she shifted bright eyes, chuckling. "Miguel and I faced his demons long ago."
Red's brows furrowed his confusion.
"The guilt Miguel felt, when he realized he loved me, was substantial. He believed he should no longer mourn his loss," Elena had tsked, "that he had to forget Sophia and move on... were I to enter the picture."
Red remembered he had nodded emphatically. Miguel had offered to set him up in a new place under an assumed name to begin anew, but Red had turned him down flat. The very idea of moving on and making a new family, while his daughter faced the world without him... disturbed him greatly.
"But...how could he?" Red questioned.
"Miguel's faithfulness to Sophia is one of the reasons I fell in love with him." Elena further confessed. "Instead of wishing he would forget her... I instead chose to understand why he loved her."
Red's brows lifted in surprise.
"They had wonderful memories together," Elena's eyes glittered with moisture, "it would be a travesty should no one remember those cherished moments."
Red closed his eyes as the woman spoke, remembering Jennifer's first steps, her first word... he even recalled a romantic getaway with Carla during their first year of marriage.
"Miguel grieves a woman he loved dearly," Elena began, "just as I mourn my own losses."
Red canted his head curiously, wishing her train of thought to continue as he found it fascinating.
"With each loss," she continued, "you grieve differently... just as you love differently."
Red had never thought of it like that. The grief he felt for his mother's passing was vastly different to that of his father's. And of course, his love for Carla and Jennifer had been different.
"It would be impossible for Miguel to love Sophia and I equally," Elena had smiled. "Sophia was kind-hearted, gentle and unassuming," Elena's mouth curved into a mischievous grin, "...and I am none of those things."
Red smiled wryly, knowing how hot-tempered Elena could be.
"His love for one," Elena said, "doesn't negate the other. They're just... different."
Red blinked when the memory blurred as Lizzy walked past, flicking on another overhead light.
Liz turned, looking to Red, silently waiting.
Red glanced about slowly, taking it all in. After all this time, from what he could see of the contents, it all appeared virtually brand new... though, outdated.
He would bet there wouldn't be more than three-thousand miles on that Toyota Land Cruiser, but in comparison, it seemed boxy against the streamline versions of today.
His computer, also brand-new at the time, was enormous and clunky, especially when set aside his sleek, compact laptop or tablet.
Closing his eyes, he could recall the distinctive 'pop' that utilitarian toaster produced as Carla made toast in the morning. He much preferred the smooth 'clink' of the one Nora preferred as she made toast.
It was the most bizarre, yet overwhelming time-capsule he ever happened upon.
Emotions cascaded from all sides... he felt like he was drowning.
Liz shrugged at the men opposite her, unsure how to proceed.
Red's eyes flit from one box to the next, nonchalantly looking at one only to hesitate over another, a faraway look in his eyes.
Taking a quick inventory of the opposite side of the warehouse, Dembe unobtrusively directed the men to begin moving those particular boxes as they were obviously household appliances and nothing of great import.
The order of the day, get this damned procedure over and done as quickly as humanly possible.
Liz continued to silently watch as Red tilted his head, squinting at an unknown object. Without invading his quiet contemplation, she stepped, straining to see what occupied him so.
Her brow furrowed as a long slim black case came into view.
Her eyes widened as Red pulled the pieces apart, revealing the contents to be a scabbard and long sword. She blinked her awe as the steel gleamed, casting bright beams of light around the room as he moved it. An intricate engraved design of some sort ran almost the entire length of the blade.
Gripping the pommel, Red held the balanced weight aloft, staring sightlessly at the polished surface.
She would give anything to know what Red was thinking inside his head, or what his memories were like. Good ones, she hoped.
More to the point, she wished she knew what to say to him or if she should even say anything at all. She checked with someone who might give guidance.
Silas just as quietly observed the man, remembering the look of reverence on Red's face the first time he held that sword shortly after he made Captain.
While he was positive Carla had obtained the expensive gift solely as a way to flout she was now a Captain's wife, Silas knew Red viewed it as an accomplishment achieved.
Like Silas, Red had never much cared about ranks or stature. But both knew well enough in a military establishment; you played the game if you wanted to get anywhere. Red had the stomach for it and paved the way. The more he played the Brass, the less their tactics to gain answers were scrutinized.
Even now, Silas could say with absolute conviction; no matter what hell hole they were assigned, they made inroads no one else could have come close to achieving.
After all they had accomplished for that establishment; the betrayal they faced, Red more than anyone... he could only guess what Red was thinking now, holding that relic of yesterday.
Was he recalling that or that farce of a party Carla concocted out of thin air to present him that 'gift'?
Carla had done nothing special the day Red had been pinned Captain.
Only weeks later, after she commissioned the sword, did she acknowledge Red's achievement, taking center stage herself as they were surrounded by family and friends.
Red had been touched by the gesture, but had been just as happy to get away from the hoopla and sit on the back porch with his men smoking and drinking beer.
Even now, Silas hated that woman. He couldn't ever imagine Liz doing something so selfish.
Liz would make any achievement in Red's life intimate. Even if others were invited to partake in the celebration, she would focus the attention where it should be directed.
Red broke from his inner reverie, frowning at the movement across the way, shaking Silas from his own thoughts in the process.
Silas canted his head as Red's eyes closed painfully, his breathing shallowing.
Liz stepped, applying a reassuring squeeze to Red's shoulder, for she too noticed the change in his posture.
Silas grimaced as Red's fingers curved tightly about the blade cradled in his palm, the skin turning an ashy pale; the blood draining from the excretion. While not especially sharp, the blade was sharped to a point and had to be biting to the man's flesh.
Glancing over his shoulder, Liz's heart broke as the soft purple teddy bear and bunny came into view.
Red glanced away quickly, back down to the cool steel. "You took my fucking life," he hissed under his breath, "...why not my blood."
Liz gasped as Red swiftly yanked the blade from its tight hold, slicing his hand open in the process.
Silas winced for the action... but more for the crestfallen look on Liz's face. Scratching a rough hand across his bristled jaw, he took a cautious step forward.
"I'll never get this back! She's fucking gone! They took my little girl from me!" Red growled piteously. "Get rid of this shit! Get it out of my fucking sight!"
Grasping Liz's arm, Silas pulled her back just as Red carelessly tossed the sword to the tabletop.
Startling, Liz grimaced as the heavy steel clanged jarringly in the enclosed space, biting at their already frayed nerves.
Dembe stepped closer, his eyes beseeching, "Raymond..."
"Don't!" Raymond sneered his warning. "Dembe..." his jaw pulsed, "just..." his eyes slammed shut, his head shaking sharply, "I can't" he rasped shakily "... not now!"
Liz's lip quivered as Red turned without another word, stalking from the room without a backward glance.
She took a rushing step to follow after the man, to comfort him... then hesitated. She caught Dembe's arm as a second thought.
"Don't..." she whispered her despair, "let him have a minute." she looked up at the man, smiling tremulously. "Okay?"
Dembe and Silas watched after the man striding angrily down the narrow alley before both nodded grudgingly.
Hastily wiping at the wetness gathered on her lashes, Liz stood upright, taking a breath. She looked around herself, her heart desperately hurting for Red and how devastating this must be for him.
She closed her eyes, remembering how hard it had been to deal with Sam's things. She was so glad she finally expressed how grateful she was for Red's support... she had meant every word.
She dropped her chin, nodding to herself. "All right then..." she murmured.
"What?" Silas stepped closer, setting a gentle touch on her back.
"I can do this," she inhaled a shaky breath. "...We can do this for him." she looked between the two men. "I need your help."
All three began the arduous task confronting them.
Liz directed the movers to load the keepsakes to the trucks for their move to D.C.
Glancing at the growing boxes containing paperwork and knowing they had limited storage on the jet, Liz hastily emptied two boxes into the back of the spacious SUV.
Hastily shuffling through what she could, she separated bills from unknown paperwork, trying to make a little sense of the disorder.
Though curious by nature, she realized as she tossed the umpteenth bill into the box beside her... she had not taken one second to glance at what Red's address had been or much of anything else except the header explaining what it was she held.
It was a long shot perhaps, but it seemed prudent to be better safe than sorry... than not take this time should any of this be useful in their future endeavors.
As they entered the second hour, Dembe ran to grab refreshments for everyone, allowing Liz a period of time she didn't feel so rushed or hectic in her movements.
"What are those?" Silas asked as he came alongside her, pointing to a stack of five boxes.
"Bills and things like that." Liz mumbled. "These," she gestured to three other boxes, "are Jennifer's projects."
"All this go on the truck?" Silas asked.
"All expect Jennifer's things." Liz nodded. "We'll store that at the house."
Silas remained silent, then inclined his head, directing the movers to take the designated boxes.
"Are they done?" she asked, absently shuffling through the papers.
"No, they have another side of the warehouse left," Silas shrugged, watching Liz's system of sorting, "but it was just household stuff."
"Help me out here." her motions asked the man to dump the box beside him into the sorting pile.
Silas quickly fell inline, sorting everything efficiently alongside the woman.
"He didn't mean it," Silas said after a long silence, digging through another box.
Liz broke her concentration away from the papers, giving him a quizzical look.
"What Red said," Silas murmured, "it wasn't meant to be taken the way it came out."
Liz made a non-committal sound in her throat, refocusing on the papers.
"Guys open their mouth and shit comes out," Silas shook his head. "It's what we do... but it wasn't directed at you or what you guys have together."
As they came down to the last boxes, having removed the lids, stacks of files came into view.
Liz gaped, tracing the black embossed Navy seal and lettering with her forefinger.
Glancing surreptitiously behind him, Silas subtly replaced the lids, "Put them in the back seat."
Gathering one in her arms, Liz remained nonchalant as she did as suggested without drawing any undue attention.
"Is this for Red's eyes only?" she questioned sotto voce.
"We'll finish this," Silas gestured to the stray papers, "send them on their way," he side-glanced the men, "... then deal with that. Red won't want the hassle."
Loading the last of the boxes to the truck, the workers slid the doors shut just as Dembe arrived back with food and drink.
Smiling gratefully, Liz took the sandwich and coffee offered, gesturing to the Toyota.
"What are we gonna do with that?" she looked to them for assistance.
"Dembe," Silas leaned about her smaller frame, "did you give Red that letter?"
"Letter?" Liz gulped her hot coffee, wincing as it burned her throat.
"There was a letter taped to the underside of the car," Silas muttered around his bite. "We found it when we searched it... because that's just how damned good we are." he stated smugly.
"I located it." Dembe pulled an envelope from his pocket, giving it over to her.
She glanced about fruitlessly, "What do you want me to do with–"
"Open it." Silas gestured. "Kill the suspense."
"It's addressed to Red," Liz stressed, "don't you think we should wait for him?"
"Yeah well, Red see... he don't want the hassle," Silas thumbed to the men taking their break. "Besides, I'm sure they'd like to split some time today."
Liz looked to Dembe, unsure she should invade Red's privacy like this.
"Elizabeth," Dembe smiled his understanding, "Raymond has made it very clear, he not only trusts you... but sees you as his partner."
"You're his girl," Silas nudged her with his elbow, "his partner-in-crime..." he assured. "Meaning, he'll forgive you, so opened the damned thing all ready so we can get the hell out of here."
"That would please Raymond, I believe." Dembe added. "To get the hell out of here, I mean."
Liz opened the letter, reading it aloud for all concerned.
Red,
I'm assuming if you're reading this... my ass is most likely dead.
Liz didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Only a sentence in and she missed a man she had never met.
I hope whatever the case, you are caring for Elena in my absence. What the hell am I saying? Of course I know you're caring for Elena.
It was because of you encouraging me to 'man-up', that I found the courage to ask Elena to share her life with me. That woman; I can't live without her. But since I'm dead... I guess the subject is moot.
I take great comfort knowing, in my stead, you will see to it Tony does right by Elena. I know he will provide her a comfortable life and love her as she deserves, but as you know... I have certain criteria I wish met when it comes to Elena.
"Miguel knew Tony loved Elena?" Liz was shocked.
"We all knew he had a thing for her," Silas shrugged, "but Tony was never a prick about it."
Liz rolled expressive eyes, then continued reading.
Between you and Antonio, I know you both will demand the best for her. We are lucky to have been gifted such fiercely loyal friends.
Liz sat upright, knowing the truth when she saw it. Antonio would care for Elena and her child, as if they were his own blood.
With that said, I am sorry I could not be with you as you face this daunting task, my friend. I can only hope you have people that love you there by your side. But most especially, you have found your soul mate to help carry this burden.
Know, if nothing else, I am there with you in spirit. I am standing beside you, offering you the silent comfort and support you always gave me in times of need.
Regardless of what you believe about yourself, you are a good man. An honorable man.
You deserve the best in life.
With the warmest of regards. Your friend here and in the afterlife,
Miguel
P.S: Being the suspicious bastard that you are... I knew you would find this letter.
I swept your vehicle for trackers and found and disabled one. Perhaps you may be able to backtrack where it came from. The keys are also in the envelope.
Liz choked on a quiet sob as she read the last bit. She had never been so eternally grateful to someone in her life.
She wished with all her heart Red would listen to Miguel's words and believe them. He truly was the most honorable of men, whether he believed it or not.
Silas shook the envelope, dropping the tracker and keys into his palm.
"I'll run another trace on it, just to be safe." Silas said, pushing from his perch.
Nodding absently, Liz reverently folded Miguel's letter, returning it to the envelope before placing it in her bag.
Sighing, she pushed her hair from her eyes, returning to her task as Dembe and Silas swept Red's old SUV for tracers before pushing the car towards one of the large moving vans and hooking it to the back hitch.
Dembe relayed the pertinent info where it should be stored before sending the men on their way.
Glancing back, Liz watched the trucks clear the gate before rushing for the boxes in the backseat.
"Looks like a couple mission reports here," Silas held up two files. "You might enjoy them since Red wrote the report."
Liz couldn't help but smile at the thought. She couldn't picture Red wasting his time writing a report, so she was very intrigued to see how the man would have accomplished the fact.
Scanning her own pages, she frowned her confusion as keywords jumped out at her.
Silas stopped in his perusal, curious to the woman's puzzled expression. "What've you got?"
"I..." she shrugged, "I know the Russians have supposedly trained Beluga whales to be spy's but..." she crinkled her nose, "Did the US Navy have similar projects under study?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Silas scowled, stepping closer to look over her shoulder.
"Right here," she pointed to the paragraph in question, "it says, Lamprey. Do I even want to know what..." she frowned up at Silas, only to trail off when she noticed Silas and Dembe's expressionless expressions.
"Ah, damn it," she groaned miserably. "You're gonna make me ask Red what it means and he'll be evasive, which in turn makes my head explode."
"Speaking of being evasive," Silas... evaded, "we should close shop here and find Red."
Liz had no objections. She had been agitated since Red walked off the site.
The grounds were searched... yet they found, nothing.
Hoping Red had time to get his emotions under control, Liz bought a few more minutes lingering in the ladies room before finally conceding defeat, going back to the SUV.
Red was not going to return.
Situating the boxes in the back, they closed up the building before climbing in the vehicle.
"We'll circle the area here," Silas soothed the woman in back, "shouldn't be too hard to find a guy wearing a fedora in Nebraska."
Keeping her eyes peeled, she felt crestfallen with each street they passed, for there was no sign of Red.
Dembe eyed the woman as they moved further away from the storage unit, the search fruitless.
In truth, Liz was a bit worried. Red was armed and could take care of himself, but... in his present state of mind, would he be alert to danger? If someone, such as a cop or enemy, sighted him, would he be aware?
Mindless to Silas' aggravated grumbling beside him, Dembe smiled warmly in the rearview mirror to reassure the woman.
"Raymond will be fine, Elizabeth." Dembe assured. "He will know to meet us at the hotel when he finds we have vacated the unit."
Liz nodded morosely, glancing out the window at the passing scenery. They traveled several more blocks before she registered where they were.
"Dembe," she leaned between the seats, "can you make a right up there?" she pointed to an upcoming street.
Following the woman's directions, shortly thereafter, they pulled under a large Maple tree.
"I'll be just a minute, guys." she promised with her tone.
Silas slid from the vehicle, searching the area before opening her door.
"Take all the time you need, Elizabeth." Dembe smiled softly. "Please..."
Patting Silas' arm as she passed, she smiled warmly at both men as they stayed at a distance, offering her privacy.
"Hi, daddy," Liz knelt next to Sam's headstone, lovingly touching the cool marble.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here," she ran a gentle finger over the etched letters, "I'm sure you know, I've been... busy. No excuse, just an explanation." she used his favorite catch phrase.
Pulling a bag from her back pocket, she cleaned away leaf debris, "I'm sure you also know, I kicked Tom to the curb," her mouth twitched in amusement, "...quiet literally."
Stuffing the grass clippings in her bag, she chuckled under her breath, relating the story of her... altercation with that asshole.
"Just between me and you, I'm still pissed I didn't get to kill his loser ass." she grumbled, wiping a smudge from the gray stone. "Red would have killed him," she said, "... except Silas got in the way."
She glanced fondly over at the scruffy sentinel, finding Silas scanning the terrain with sharp eyes.
"Speaking of Red," she flushed without thought, "we're... well..."
She was surprised to find her cheeks aching as she realized... she was smiling, happily.
"We're... eh... dating," she confided. She couldn't help wonder how the man would have taken such news were it delivered face-to-face.
It had been tense enough when she introduced Sam to Tom. She wondered now, since Red knew her father to some extent... how a similar meeting would have went between them.
As if she could feel the man's eyes upon her, she hastily added, "..Don't get weird on me. Red wants us to be committed to one another. He didn't just want to," she blushed, "well... you know."
Removing a napkin from her front pocket, she wiped at the letters and numbers on the stone, clearing away dirt left behind after a recent rain.
"In fact," she continued, "I-I think... it could lead somewhere very special."
Silas stepped into her peripheral, scoping the large green space methodically. It was making the guy antsy, being out in the open like this.
"Red has been taking very good care of me." she assured.
Wrinkling her nose distastefully, she fingered the faded fake flowers the cemetery put in place, removing them from their brass holder. She would have to place fresh ones before she left. Besides, pink flowers didn't really suit Sam... at all.
"I just wish," she inhaled shakily, sitting on her haunches, "I could return the favor and take care of him too."
Settling her forehead onto the thick granite, she leaned against it in support.
"I love him so much, daddy," she fought the threatening tears. "I don't know what to do," tears trickled over her cheeks, dropping to the brass vase, "Red's hurting so much and there's nothing I can say or do to make it better."
"You make it better," Red's deep voice broke Liz's musings, "just by being here, baby."
The woman looked upward, finding the man towering over her, his fedora shading his face.
"...I'm sorry," he knelt beside her, gently wiping at her wet cheeks,
She gasped as she saw his wound, grasping for it. Digging in his suit pocket, she extracted a handkerchief, wrapping it about the paper towels he wadded up against the severe cut.
"Give me your tie." she instructed shakily, pushing gently in on the deep gouge. "It will have to do for now."
"I'm sorry I let you down..." he pulled the knot of his tie, allowing her to slip it from his neck.
"No... I-I get it, Red. I know seeing all t-that stuff was..." she sniffled, wrapping the long strip of silk carefully into a makeshift bandage, "I know it hurts."
"...Yes," he shifted dark eyes, "though that doesn't give me the right to hurt you in the process."
Liz fell silent, mulling over what to say. Her instinct was to shrug off his apology. The man had experienced a massive wave of emotional turmoil. She would have worried had he not lashed out in some manner, in all honesty.
Instead of saying anything, she accepted the apology in her own way. "It's not even a problem."
She was surprised when Red sat beside her at length, assisting her busy work clearing away Sam's resting place.
"...Sam," Red muttered his greeting, flicking the pitiful flowers distastefully.
"I know," Liz wrinkled her nose, "Aren't they awful. I wonder who placed them?"
Red reached beside him, holding a bouquet aloft. "Dembe thought you might want to stop by and visit..." he sighed, resigned. "I was so far up my own ass I didn't even think of the gesture."
Liz took the bunch, unwrapping the brown paper. "I knew I was stopping by and didn't think to bring flowers. What does that make me?"
Placing them in the brass urn, she artfully arranged the fragrant blooms. She reached impulsively, checking her necklace was still in place, relaxing.
Red chuckled at the instinctive move, pouring a bottle of water into the sturdy holder. "We should place a standing order to check the flowers once a week."
"Thank you," she lay her head against his shoulder, zoning out into the surrounding space, listening to the soft rustle of the leaves overhead.
"I was telling daddy," she murmured, "that we're dating now and–"
Red stiffened at her side, his eyes darting upward, his body tensing.
"What's wrong?" she could find no reasons for his actions.
He patted her hip consolingly, "I was just expecting a lighting bolt to take me out," he smiled, "...didn't want you caught in the crossfire."
Sniggering her amusement, she settled back against him, "You don't think he'd approve of our... association?"
"If his reaction to Tom was anything to judge by," Red remembered that conversation vividly, "I would bet good money Sam would put a hit out on my ass."
"Red, did daddy know Tom was... hired by you?"
"Well, yes," Red said, "but that wasn't why he hated his guts." he chuckled.
Liz frowned curiously.
"Sam felt as I did," Red explained. "While we were extremely displeased Tom insinuated himself into your life..." he granted, "Sam thought, however, if nothing else... Tom would protect you as he had been hired to do."
"But he did, mostly," she looked up at Red, "didn't he? I mean, it was for Berlin, but we didn't know that. So why did Sam hate Tom then?"
"Because Sam was a man," Red shifted knowing eyes, "who was very aware what would occur once you two were truly... involved with each other."
Liz's cheeks reddened as understanding dawned on her. "...Oh."
Even now, she felt a bit mortified Sam was aware she had a sex life.
"Sam was very much your father in that sense." Red assured. "It wouldn't have mattered who you brought home, Sam would have wanted their head on his mantle."
"How did you feel about the situation?" her curiosity was piqued.
"Did I want to kill Tom, you mean?" the woman nodded before he finished speaking.
"Yes, I did." Red didn't deny the fact. "You will never know how close I came on so many different occasions."
"You felt that strongly?"
"I did, but not for the same reasons I want his head in a box now..." he conceded.
Liz dimpled, more than understanding the gist of his statement. Silas had said it was a territorial thing... wanting to kill your girl's ex-lovers. Yes, Red wanted Tom dead for the danger he represented. But mainly, Red didn't like the thought Tom touched what now belonged to him.
"I explicitly ordered Tom to stay away from you," Red explained. "Tom's involvement with you was a huge violation of our contract... and my trust."
Liz nodded her understanding.
"But mainly," he continued, his aggravation rising even now, "I was pissed Tom was fucking my friend's daughter."
Liz groaned at the man's blunt statement.
"Sam would have returned the sentiment had the shoe been on the other foot. It's a dad thing, Lizzy." Red grinned.
Quietly pondering all said, a question arose. Uncertain how to proceed, Liz hesitated, unsure how to ask the question. "Red, knowing what you know now... would you still have helped my parents?"
Having years to consider the various scenarios of what occurred, Red wasn't sure what he might have done differently regarding their actions. But he did know...
"My biggest regret is my daughter," he began.
Liz ducked her chin, hiding her reactionary wince of pain. Of course the man would choose his daughter over their relationship. She couldn't help feel saddened by that aspect, but it would have been selfish on her part to believe their romance took precedence over a blood relative.
And such a precious commodity, too.
"I knew how unscrupulous the government is," Red knew that then and now, "I knew they burned people for treading the line." he sighed. "I sensed...I was on shaky ground and should have made a continency plan for my family."
Remaining silent, Liz listened. There didn't seem to be much to say, not really.
"Hindsight," he shrugged. "Had I made sure of Jennifer's safety," he said, "and that our future would be intact... then, yes. I would have helped your parents."
"Y-You'd go through all that pain and loss," Liz voiced her shock, "the complete upheaval of your life... if it meant we were together?"
"You sound shocked."
"I am," she blurted. "You had a family, a life, a career. Why would you do that, Red?"
"If we're basing this off the knowledge I possess now, then I know that I can't, and quite frankly don't want to, live without you in my life." Red's tone brooked no argument.
Lifting to her knees, Liz turned towards him, her eyes shining with wetness.
A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he heard the faint echo of Elena's wisdom repeat in his head.
"Lizzy, the love I have for my daughter," he said, "does not negate how very much I love you." he stressed.
Liz's lip quivered as she listened to the man.
"Jennifer is my daughter," he said. "She will always be a part of me."
Liz wondered what that was like? To have an unbreakable bond such as that.
"You are my partner, friend and lover." he rubbed her fingers. "You are my strength, sanity and shelter."
"Jennifer loves you." Liz was quick to remind him.
"I hope she does," he murmured quietly. "The point is, however... contrary to popular belief, I have room enough in my heart for you both."
Red smiled as Lizzy's small fingers rubbed anxiously against his thumb. "You both fill different areas of my heart."
Liz breathed as her stomach unknotted, and the tension bled from her shoulders.
"My love for Jennifer is unconditional," he continued. "My love for you... is vital."
She never really looked at it that way. She loved Sam and Red very much, but on different levels.
Sam was her dad. He nurtured her and shaped what kind of person she would be in her life. He bandaged scraped knees and dealt with her triumph and losses as she faced new challenges in her life.
Red was her partner in life. They shared a romantic, raw connection that excited her both emotionally and physically. He was her support and protection, and perhaps in time... more.
"Yes, I would love to know where my daughter is," he said, "but I would not change what you and I have, not one iota."
Leaning, Liz wrapped herself around Red's shoulders. She sighed her contentment as she was enveloped in Red's warm scent and his embrace.
Much like the night he had given Lizzy the music box after she learned of Tom's betrayal, Red rested his cheek against the soft locks of Lizzy's hair, basking in their shared connection.
"I suppose I should get this over with," Red sighed heavily. "The sooner I get it done, the sooner we can go home."
"It is over..." Liz grimaced, "we took care of it, Red. Everything is on its way to D.C."
She searched his expressionless face for any sign she overstepped boundaries, finding him impossible to read.
Lizzy anxiously filled the silence relating all she had done after he stormed off. Red's mind raced ahead, his emotions in turmoil for the second time this day.
He instantly realized what she did... had nothing to do with the Fulcrum or Cabal. They hadn't even come into the equation for Lizzy, not today.
This was entirely personal.
She wasn't sure how he would react to her handling his affairs. More specifically, his family's artifacts.
It had been so long since he was in a position for his lover to do such a thing... he was admittedly shocked she took the initiative.
Not even his first wife had helped with his parents' estate. Carla believed he would prefer doing it his way... on his terms. Which was fine, but he had wondered, did she not think her presence alone wouldn't have been a comfort?
He sighed his contentment, feeling Lizzy against him. Her presence made all the difference. To have her in arm's reach when he needed had been a calming influence. She even coped with his meltdown admirably... and apparently understood and even forgave his mood.
And now, as he listened to all she had accomplished in his absence... he knew without doubt, she had been respectful and caring of how things were managed.
How could he ever express how grateful he was she took a considerable weight off his mind?
"Thank you," he interrupted her nervous chatter.
Lizzy clamped her mouth shut, falling silent. Her eyes drifted downward as her fingers worried his calloused flesh.
"Sweetheart," Red hugged her closer, "I couldn't have gone near that building in the first place, without you there supporting me." he told the truth as he saw it.
Liz's sad eyes reflected their compassion.
"I needed you to be here," he continued, "...and you were, in ways I never imagined you would be."
He tugged gently, enclosing her in his tight embrace. "Thank you for being here and... forgiving my behavior–"
"There is nothing to forgive." she shook her head adamantly.
"There is a list longer than my arm," he wouldn't lie, "mostly, for the fact, I walked off the field of battle, leaving you to..."
"We'll work on our reactionary responses in the future." she negotiated.
Red graciously inclined his head, allowing the matter to settle without argument. "Thank you for... not deserting me."
She squeezed her eyes tight against the welling emotion, "I would never do that. I hope," she swallowed the lump in her throat, attempting a smile, "...we're a team, right?"
"We are," he murmured, planting a light kiss in the dip on her shoulder, "... the best team around."
Silas watched the scene unfolding, breathing out a sigh of relief.
"They gain strength in each other's presence." Dembe observed.
"I don't know if I should feel relieved Liz chilled him out," Silas murmured aside to his friend, "or give Red shit for being so whipped."
Dembe rolled exasperated eyes, "We all have dilemmas in life we must face."
Smirking, Silas' scruffy cheek dimpled for the man's droll tone. "I'm a Marine," he countered, "I should be able to adapt to this new vibe."
"If you were a proficient one," Dembe nodded, ignoring Silas' narrowed glare, "yes, I suppose you could find a compromise of sorts."
Both men watched the couple come from their quiet repose and gather their things before starting back towards the SUV.
"You think she asked about Lamprey yet?" Silas questioned.
"No," Dembe glanced at their tranquil expressions, "there is too much peace between them."
Silas shrugged, "Probably better she waited," he stepped towards the backdoor, opening it as they neared, "Red won't want distractions."
Liz smiled at the two men as she neared, silently sending her gratitude for the privacy afforded her to visit Sam. Red slowly ushered her into the back seat, solicitous of her mood.
"Are we staying," Silas asked as they all settled into the car, "or leaving?"
"We're going." Red muttered. He reached, laying a sedate hand of either mans shoulders in silent thanks for their assistance.
Once they arrived at the jet, Liz rushed onboard to make use of the facilities, leaving the others on the tarmac to tend to the business of luggage and flight logs.
Making quick work of placing their meager luggage in the hold, Dembe grabbed the leftover boxes, pulling them to the edge of the hatch.
"What's that?" Red gestured with his coffee cup, noting the man's activity.
Silas lifted the lid off one box, showing Red the files embossed with the Navy seal.
"Liz didn't see much," Silas advised, "but prepare yourself for thousands of questions."
Taking a breath, Red nodded before grabbing a stack of boxes himself. "Place them in the cabin."
"Of course, since we're right here at the hold," Silas grumbled, taking the cumbersome cargo up the flight of stairs.
Red sent the guy a look but kept his peace otherwise.
Situating the containers along the back wall of the jet, Red smiled warmly as Lizzy offered him a snack before settling in the seat beside his.
"Give me your hand." she directed, opening a first-aid kit.
Knowing better than to argue with Lizzy when she had her mind set, Red sat there quietly as she cleaned and disinfected the cut properly. She had finished redressing the wound just as Dembe returned from the cockpit.
"We're cleared for take-off," Dembe plopped down in a cushy seat, opening his bag of Sunchips.
"You've spoiled me, you know." she wrinkled her nose adorably as they sped down the runway, "I've grown so accustom to boarding and leaving now in mere minutes..." she giggled, "I'll never be able to fly commercial again."
"Why would you fly commercial again?" he frowned his disdain. "You have your own jet."
"No, my boyfriend has his own jet." she corrected as they lifted off the ground.
"Same difference." Red shrugged. "You can make use of it anytime you please."
She canted her head, turning towards the man, "You'd just let me take your jet?"
"You are his sugar baby," Silas added his two-cents, earning him a soured look from the woman opposite him.
Situating himself in his seat, Silas leaned back into the deep recesses before he brightened. "Let's take it tomorrow and run the beach in the Caymans. That'll strengthen that weak ankle of yours to perfection."
Red chuckled as Lizzy's head cocked the other way, as though pondering the proposition.
Patting the small fingers in his, "It's at your disposal anytime you wish." Red leaned, pulling a card from his wallet, "This is Edward's number should this plane be in use, just tell him what you need and he'll set up a travel itinerary for you."
Liz took the card, staring oddly at it before looking at the man beside her, "Edward would fly me in his jet? That's quite a friend."
"Edward is using my plane, Lizzy." Red corrected. "I upgraded to this one when I realized you might be a frequent traveler."
"My boyfriend has two jets?" she frowned.
"Well... yes," he shrugged, "this one just has more added comfort and... I like when you sit beside me."
Just then, she remembered his previous plane had single seats that swiveled and drop down tables at which to work at with laptops and the like.
"The other one would be perfect to shuttle your team around," he suggested, "as it provides privacy you need."
"The FBI should have thought of that." Liz agreed with the man beside her. It would be nice to work a case without restricting conversation due to the top-secret or gruesome nature of their discussions.
"Speaking of privacy," Red glanced at Dembe, "have we done our customary security sweep... as I couldn't help but note both my security personnel just sat their asses down upon take-off?"
Dembe sat his cup aside, pushing from his seat. The man opened a side cabinet pulling a handheld device free, waving the contraption about, he walked the length of the plane.
"It's clear Raymond." Dembe advised before replacing the box and retaking his seat. "Now, can I finish my Sunchips?"
"He gets a little surly when he can't finish his chips." Silas confided aside to his companions.
"You could have down the sweep for him that he could finish his chips." Red pointed out.
"Yeah, I'm busy." Silas turned the page of a National Geographic magazine. "Did you know dingoes are indigenous to Australia?"
"Everyone knows dingoes are indigenous to Australia." Liz huffed.
"The dingo ate m' baby." Silas' accent was spot on. "What kind of 'dingo' lets his kid get drug off by wild dogs?"
Liz sighed evenly, giving the subject up for loss.
Red turned to Liz, his head gesturing to the stacks of boxes behind them, "Are we going to discuss the content... or not?"
Silas sat upright, laying his reading material aside, crossing his arms over his chest. After how Liz handled herself today, he was more than interested to see how Red handled this discussion.
"I...uhm," Liz's eyes darted to Silas nervously. She relaxed some, finding the man nodding his encouragement. "I didn't mean to pry... I was sorting and all of a sudden–"
"It's all right," Red calmed her anxiousness, "what do you want to know?"
"What do you want to share... if anything." she hedged.
Red waited patiently.
"Well, there was something weird I didn't get. This Lamprey thing... it kept popping up, page after page." she crinkled her nose. "Big bold letters."
She checked with Silas. "It doesn't make any sense." she recalled the references were obscure and vague. "There was mention of a submarine. I know you were in the Navy. Were you stationed on a sub?"
"Lamprey was the codename the KGB assigned to me," Red said, "in a manner of speaking."
Liz's eyes widened as the man openly shared the information without hesitation. She side-glanced Dembe and Silas, finding both men relaxed, their attention focused.
"It's been a while since I saw the files," Red confessed, "I can only assume the submarine mentioned was the USS Gideon."
Liz swallowed hard, remembering Red was accused of being the reason all men onboard... died. And one of the reasons why he was now accused of treason.
Red pushed from his seat, glancing over the boxes. "We should look the files over."
Liz startled upright, slowly lifting from her seat, her legs like jelly.
"It's all right, baby," Red waved her closer. "It's time... I want to do this. We need to do this."
"Silas?" she glanced at her guard, unsure what to do suddenly. Red seemed better after their earlier discussion. Had she inadvertently opened a second can of worms?
Silas stepped towards the back, rifling through the contents of a box. He pulled a couple folders free, giving them to Red.
Sitting them on the nearby counter, Red flipped them open, scanning the contents quickly.
"Only a select few knew about the Gideon's mission," Red pointed to the relevant information, "I was one of them."
Urging the woman closer, Red looked over Lizzy's shoulder, showing her notes he, himself, had written.
"I was informed, by the Captain, of their altered coordinates," Red smoothed a finger under the line where he made the note.
Liz scanned the document, her attention wavering between the information and Red's distinctive handwriting.
Taking a breath, Red remained silent, allowing Lizzy a moment to read the report and comprehend it before he continued.
Once her finger hit the end of the page, Red turned her towards him, aligning her eyes with his own.
"After the Gideon was torpedoed, there were claims made..." he stroked along her arms comfortingly, "it was said, I communicated those coordinates to the Russians."
Liz nodded she was following along so far. Even though the information had been redacted, for the most part, she had pieced together enough of the picture to understand what had occurred.
Only, the tone of Red's voice suggested otherwise.
"...Are you implying," she glanced up at him hopefully, "you didn't?"
"No," Red's jaw tightened, his eyes bore into hers, "I didn't."
She held the intense connection, trying to decipher what he wasn't saying without words.
Sighing her frustration, she spared a dispirited glance at Silas finding the man staring back at her evenly.
"You're the profiler," Silas hinted, "...profile."
Lis looked back down at Red's notes, focusing. It really was no wonder Red had been the Navy's rising star. He obviously earned his position through long hours, hard work and by applying himself.
She found his notes to be meticulous and precise. She even found herself smiling inwardly at how professional and accurate Red had been about detail.
Even then, he allowed his humanity to show through by praising the Captain of the Gideon. Not only had he voiced his opinion by expressing the Captain was an admirable Officer for maintaining good morale, he gave the man a pat on his back for cutting hours off their expected travel time.
She even noted Red requested leave for an Ensign Simmons so the man could be at the birth of his child. She was saddened to think the Ensign may have not made it off the Sub before it met its tragic fate.
Scanning the notes once more, she realized... some things never changed, apparently. Red was as efficient then as he was now.
Red remained quiet as Lizzy poured over the notes, pondering silently to herself.
She looked back and forth between the notes and whatever list she was compiling in her head before he felt a subtle stiffening in her body followed by a short, sharp inhalation.
His eye ticked, realizing... she had made a connection.
"Oh my God," she whispered, grasping Red's forearms to steady herself.
"Talk to me," Red's tightened voice urged.
"It wasn't you," she jerked her eyes upwards, searching his frantically.
Red followed her sharp movements as she jerked a shaking finger to the notes beside them.
"You were an exemplary Officer," her voice shook as she told him what she knew, "your notes... they're perfect. Above standard for a man of your position."
Red held his tongue, allowing her time to vocally sort her thoughts out loud.
"You took great care in keeping precise records," she continued. "It makes no sense for you to put in valuable time... only to turn traitor."
"I could have been covering my ass." Red countered. "Making it appear I did my job to circumvent suspicion."
"No," Liz disagreed fervently, "you wouldn't have bothered mentioning the Captain and Ensign Simmons." she frowned. "You would have disassociated yourself from the crew had you been aware of the outcome of the mission."
Lizzy had profiled him when they first met, and she had done a wonderful job profiling the criminal... Red Reddington.
As she profiled him now, Red breathed a ragged sigh of relief that she finally found him... the real Raymond Reddington. The man who once had a family, friends... and a loyal career in the Navy.
The tension in Silas' shoulders eased as he watched, knowing that statement alone meant a great deal to not only Red... but to those who were with him that fateful day the world went to shit.
While Red and his men had reached a point where they didn't give a damn what the world thought... it was still nice to know someone believed Red, and in turn... their own words.
"Who..." she broke off... the breath taken from her once again.
Red reached quickly, steadying the woman as she lurched and grasped at her middle. Her free hand covered her mouth, muffling her sudden overwrought emotion.
"Oh God," she wept shakily.
Red wrapped his arms about her, kissing her nape comfortingly as the implications inundated the woman.
"It's all right," he whispered soothingly, nuzzling his nose into her hairline.
"How can you say that!" she clutched at his leg, desperately seeking a solid foundation. "My father implicated you in–"
Readjusting his hold, he quickly situated the woman up against him, holding her shaking body to his solid one.
"I can't be sure he did," Red spoke over her hysterics.
"Are you kidding me!" she stiffened further in his arms even as she grabbed for him, seeking his comfort.
"Katarina was very good at her job," Red closed his eyes, his brow furrowing darkly... what a no-win situation this moment was.
In the end, he either implicated Lizzy's father... or mother.
"What the hell kind of horrible people–"
"Your father loved your mother, he trusted her," Red tried to explain things as he saw them. "Your mother..." he shrugged, unsure what to think of Katarina, not really. In hindsight, he questioned if he really knew the woman at all.
"Was a fucking spy!" Liz spat. "It was her job to manipulate and dig for information."
Red grimaced, knowing there was no way he could refute what the hell Lizzy was thinking... and how she may associate those thoughts with her own experiences with Tom Keen.
"Whatever the case," Liz shook in his arms, "my father knew not to give out classified information to anyone!"
Red sighed heavily, letting her vent.
"And my mother," she snarled, "played my father, then provided the intel the Russians wanted while placing the blame on you!"
"I believe she was protecting you and your father." Red spoke softly, hoping to ease her distress.
"You don't believe that shit!" Liz's eyes lit with fire. "And neither do I!" she hissed.
Dembe and Silas shifted unobtrusively beside the couple, watching the drama unfold, but there ready to intervene and help should things become... overwhelming.
"I think she found you to be a threat to her and wanted you out of the picture to further manipulate my father." she postulated her own theory. "She used you and me to get out of Russia, and you fucking well know it!"
Dembe felt for Elizabeth and the pain she was experiencing. There was so much rage radiating from the woman, the air in the cabin crackled with tension.
She had faced so much today and now had to face this betrayal too? When would they ever be granted a reprieve?
"The recording." Silas interjected, stilling Liz's outburst slightly.
"What!" Liz barked, her emotions strung high.
"There's a recording that tells the whole truth," Red sighed. "Once we get that, we'll know what Katarina's actual role was in everything, if at all." he explained. "Until then... none of this really matters."
"Red!" Liz growled her frustration.
"Lizzy," Red tilted her chin, making her look at him, "until we get that recording," he stressed, "dealing with this issue can wait."
Huffing angrily, Liz took a deep breath, listening to what Red had to say... since she sensed there was a point he was wishing to make.
"All that matters right now is... you know." Red stressed the most important point.
She blinked, just then realizing, Red had shared a very essential piece of the puzzle to better understand what happened... with her.
More shocking, he did so of his own volition.
"We'll find out the truth," Red assured, "and we'll fix this... in time."
Lifting to her toes, she wrapped the man in a strangling hold.
"Let's hold all judgement or accusations.." he mumbled, hoping for the best, "until we have irrevocable proof of innocence or guilt."
Nodding sharply, Liz nuzzled her nose into Red's neckline, "This has been one shitty day!" she proclaimed reverently.
"I know, baby," Red drew in an even breath, exhaling wearily. "I wanted to tell you in a better manner, I just didn't know how."
Liz closed her eyes, allowing Red to lead her back to their seats.
"You go through any of that shit you need." Red motioned behind them. "If you have questions, I'll try to answer them, but for right now... we've had enough for one day, okay?"
Liz nodded aimlessly, "We've had enough for a lifetime." she lamented. "Let's just go home, Red." she lay her head on his shoulder. "Can we just... do that?"
"We can do that, baby." he kissed her temple, "...let's do that."