Focal Point

by Daniel Davies

(Lizzington) A dangerous serial killer targets Elizabeth Keen as the newest Blacklister hits too close to home for Red Reddington. She must rely on the one person her instincts tell her she can trust. Liz finds herself inexplicably drawn closer to the only man capable of protecting her from this insidious new threat. (Mature Content)

200. Incendiary

Author Note: Due to the decreased reader traffic and lack of feedback regarding new chapter updates these last few months, we're assuming interest in the story has waned, if not died out completely?

We discussed it, and thought it was kind of silly to continue posting for an audience that isn't there, so for the time being, we're gonna go ahead and discontinue posting updates here, I guess.

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"I'm having second thoughts here." Mark sat in the back of the SUV, staring at the nondescript building across the way.

Daniel Courtland glanced at his friend, remaining silent. But he was having those same thoughts.

"It's just nerves." Francis dismissed both men's inclinations. "If Red says it's fine, it's fine."

"Well," Mark sighed, inhaling deeply, sitting back into the seat, "at least the girls are out of harm's way, what with the fucking bomb threat hanging over us. They're out of the city and this mess if it all goes south."

"It won't go south." Francis rolled his eyes. "And if this works out, think how it will benefit us, guys."

"And if it doesn't work out?" Daniel cut a quiet stare.

Having taken his own vehicle, Red and Dembe slowly approached the other car.

"They are having second thoughts." Dembe had noted no one had exited said car.

"It's only natural." Red expected it. "Let's soothe some frayed nerves." He tapped on the tinted window. Francis rolled down the latter.

"They're having second thoughts." Francis explained the delay.

"Yeah." Red nodded, leaning to brace his arms on the sill. "It's okay." He assured each occupant of the vehicle. "It's a big step. I get it. Need some more time?"

Francis' mouth dropped agape; his attention directed somewhere behind Red. The man turned to see the why of it. Each man shuffled about; their interest caught as well.

Samar walked, well, floated, toward the SUV, those luscious hips swaying hypnotically. Red glanced back to see the effect her presence was having on all concerned.

Mark had already exited the car and was slowly coming around the end, his attention where it should have been...on the lovely vision approaching.

Danny had pushed Francis aside that he might get a better view.

Francis just sat...mouth still agape.

Talk about perfect timing.

"Gentlemen," Red held his smile, "this is Agent Samar Navabi. She will be our liaison with the Site."

"Why the hell didn't you say so in the first fucking place?" Mark chided sotto voce, stepping forward, extending a hand, but Francis beat him to the gesture. Scrambling from his seat, Francis shoved his way past Daniel, taking immediate possession of Samar's extended hand.

The woman glanced at the contact, a little taken aback by the swiftness of the action.

"I'm Francis Holbrook, and I think I'm falling in love with you, Agent Navabi." The boy seemed earnest enough in such a statement. "Will you marry me and have my babies?"

"No." Samar smiled sweetly to lessen the barb. "But I will allow you to buy me lunch sometime."

"That'll work." Francis smiled happily.

"I'm Mark Donovan." The man effectively moved Francis out of his way, again offering a hand. "I'm spoken for, but I wish the hell I wasn't."

Samar smiled her smile, taking the huge hand. "Gentlemen, I have the papers you requested. I thought you might wish to peruse them before signing?" She lifted the brown envelopes aloft. "Take your time. I am in no hurry."

Danny stepped up, his grin a sheepish one, taking one of the pre-offered packages. "I'm Daniel. You're awfully pretty, Ma'am."

"And you are awfully charming." Samar was never at a loss, Red noted.

That husky accent shivered along on every man's spine here, the man knew. Not his, of course. He was a married man now.

He just thanked his lucky stars the agent had taken the initiative to lessen the impact of the guys' indecisions in her own imitable fashion.

"Do you believe them?" Liz had taken more time to exit, for Red had told her to stay in the car until he had everything secured and settled, which of course...she did not. "A pretty face has them all discombobulated."

Joe offered over an apologetic shrug to Red, who asked the burning, though silent question... Did I, or did I not, tell you to keep her in the car?

"Wasn't her face I was noting." Mark scowled as he read down the legalized papers.

Samar licked her lips, holding her smile.

"Don't do that." Francis had noted the action, gasping. "I almost creamed my pants."

"Francis!" Liz snapped. "Don't you even start!"

The man ignored her completely. "Where do you want me to sign?" He asked, wistfully leaning to sniff the woman's perfume.

Samar held her ground. "You haven't read them." She indicated the papers he had indicated.

"I trust you." Francis' eyes fell to the front of the low-cut silk blouse the Agent wore so effectively.

"Red!" Liz snipped. "He's starting!"

"Francis..." Red scolded indulgently, then turned his attention where it needed to be. "Gentlemen, this is the exact same contract I drew up myself." He had made certain, handing the copy to Dembe. "Marvin Gerard drafted it. Need I say more?"

Mark Donovan read on.

Red decided to be patient. "You are looking lovely this morning, Agent Navabi. Thank you for coming down."

"I bet she looks lovely every morning...and every night." Francis sighed lightly, his gaze resting upon the pretty face and had now for the duration.

Samar cut the man an amused glance. "I wanted to warn you of the atmosphere in there." She motioned discretely. "Everyone is on edge. They don't know what to think about this new development."

"Same here." Red glanced at his men. Daniel waited for Mark's okay. The guy was re-checking a few articles and stipulations. Mark Donovan was a very cautious man.

"Can I use your back?" Francis held up the papers and a pen he had procured from Dembe Zuma.

Samar chuckled, turning about. Francis signed slowly, enjoying any sort of contact with the woman.

She turned, and he handed over the signed sheets.

"Can I use your front?" He tried again, his look an inoffensive one.

Samar's dark eyes flicked his body with subdued interest. "You can be naughty, can't you."

"Yeah." Francis nodded, still in a stupor, obviously. "Whatever you need, I'm your man."

Samar decided to let that one go, demurely returning to her waiting stance.

Mark finally signed, followed by Daniel. Each man exchanged oblique glances with the other. They readied themselves for whatever was on the horizon, setting broad shoulders.

As they rode down in the elevator, Red clasped Liz's hand casually in his, then smiled. "Boys, relax." He could feel the tension rolling off Mark and Danny. His grin widened. "Just be your normal charming selves." He quipped. "You'll fit right in."

"Into an eight by ten cell?" Mark quipped right back.

"Well, it's not like we haven't been there before." Red stepped out of the elevator, taking off his hat as Dembe side- stepped around him.

Heading for the lined carafes on a nearby table, Dembe poured himself a tea before taking an available seat. Removing a crossword puzzle from his back pocket, the man gingerly sipped the warm beverage, intent on his amusement.

"Oh," Liz pointed, "I'm gonna get a coffee... you guys want one?"

"Yes, thank you, sweetheart." Red smiled warmly before turning his attention back to the men beside him. "Agent Navabi, would you act as hostess until the men get their bearings?"

Danny and Mark put on their most charming smiles, respectfully inclining their heads to the beautiful woman.

"It would be my pleasure." Samar held out a hand, indicating they should step to the refreshment table.

Looking Samar up and down with a pleasurable sweep, Francis smiled. "You're so hot."

"I know." Samar smiled right back.

"And saucy." Francis winked flirtatiously.

"Would you like some," the woman purposely held the phrase, her look an innocent one, "...Danish, perhaps a donut?"

Francis' eyes closed, and he made a yummy sound in his throat. "Oh, Red. I'm going to love this job...thank you for getting me to this point in my life!"

"You're welcome, Francis." Red held his smile. He watched Daniel Courtland perusing the food-laden table. "Daniel, when you're done with your selection, I want you to meet Agent Aram Motabaji. You two have a lot in common."

Aram had been standing nervously by, watching all the commotion from a safe distance. Red motioned the man over.

Smiling nervously at the large Texan, Aram tentatively offering a hand.

"What systems do you use?" Daniel immediately put the guy at ease... clearly speaking Aram's language.

Aram's smile became genuine. "I think you'll be impressed."

"We'll see." Danny followed the guy to the computer station, coffee and Danish in hand.

Red sighed when Ressler, Moore and Wilson walked towards the group, two of the men clearly apprehensive, the other carefully wary. Considering the last meeting with Reddington...Moore was of a more cautious nature.

"You know, this is a secure site. Perhaps you shouldn't just bring in criminals on a whim without warning us, so we can put proper security in place." Richard Moore frowned at Liz.

"Maybe you should just kiss my ass and mind your own business." Liz lifted amiable brows. "You learn lessons really slowly, don't you, Moore?" She laughed mirthlessly.

"I just meant, we usually take precautions." The man had side-glanced Red, lowering his eyes hastily. "I'm assuming they were at least blind-folded on the ride over?"

"No need to get your panties in a bunch, princess." Danny smirked when Moore shifted narrowed eyes his way. The guy familiarized himself with the hardware used, speaking from behind a bank of computer interfacings.

"We already knew where this little operation of yours was. Your kind are ridiculously easy to follow, or that's the scuttlebutt on the streets." Daniel sought out Samar. "That doesn't include you, lovely lady, although most men would follow you anywhere, just saying."

"I would." Francis sighed happily, for he was in Agent Navabi's presence. "Everyone knows where your little blacksite is, but nobody cares...cause you don't really mean anything in the larger scheme of things." He sipped his coffee, then turned on Samar. "Except you, of course, my angel. Dinner?"

"I prefer breakfast." Samar flirted right back because she knew it would piss Moore off.

"I have a personal chef." Francis stepped closer. "He'll give you anything you want, and so will I, but you already knew that, right?"

Samar smiled happily, licking icing off her finger.

Francis shivered with delight, his eyes taking on a dreamy quality.

"Let me guess," Mark snapped his fingers, pointing an accusing finger, "this is Moore."

"What gave it away?" Red drawled.

"He's a prick asshole." Danny piped up from across the way. "And an idiot."

"And a coward." Francis glowered at the man. "You got something to say? Say it to us, not to Elizabeth... douchebag."

Liz waved innocently, sipping her coffee. "Francis, you called me Elizabeth."

Francis frowned curiously. "No, I didn't."

Rolling her eyes, Liz returned to her coffee.

"Moore, you want to direct your venom my way?" Red stepped threateningly. "I brought them here, not Agent Reddington. Are we gonna need another conference so soon?"

Liz's smile softened, rather enjoying how easily Red insert her new surname into the mix.

"We have procedures, that's all." Moore backed down. "If you want to fit in–"

"We don't." Mark stepped up as well. "We don't like your little club. We intend to start one of our own. And guess what, you're not invited...prick."

"You're also not gonna get a decoder ring either, asshat." Francis sneered.

Red held up a hand. "Okay, we're getting ahead of ourselves. Everyone calm the hell down. We're here to do a job. Let's get started, shall we?"

"Agent Reddington?" Wilson frowned, having mused to himself for a spell. "I can't get used to that."

"Well, that's the name. Says so on my badge and driver's license." Liz went back to the pastries, placing the lids on her and Red's coffee containers.

"Won't that be confusing, two Reddingtons?" Wilson explained his statement more fully, scratching his head, a bemused look on his face.

"No, see... he's Red and I'm Liz." Liz handed Red his coffee. "Or if you're feeling formal, Agent Reddington." She stressed the words, then smiled at her friends. "You guys can call me whatever. Except Silas, who comes up with really annoying nicknames of late. He's just tired, though. It'll get better when he's healed."

"Yes, why don't you make yourselves at home." Moore snarked under his breath.

Francis smiled, having heard the remark. "What did you say, Dick? I can call you Dick, right? Cause I call 'em, like I see 'em. So... what was that again?"

Moore wisely did not rise to the bait.

"That's what I thought." Francis' disdain was apparent.

"Red, you want a donut or something?" Liz asked, gesturing to the line of sweet treats available, ignoring the byplay taking place.

"I'm fine, thank you, sweetheart." Red smiled, sipping his coffee. It was going much better than he had originally thought it might.

"Is there any creamer?" Mark was searching aimlessly. "Oh...is that hazelnut?" He pointed, then took the container Lizzy offered over.

"Can I get you anything?" Francis was suddenly very solicitous to Samar. "Diamonds, Jimmy Choo's...a yacht?"

"She can't be bought, I'm thinking." Daniel flirted, if only to make Moore pissed all the more. "Can you, lovely lady?"

Samar mused thoughtfully. "Let me get back to you on that one."

"Anslo Garrick put you people on the map," Mark made mention. "You should have moved locations. Careless oversight on your part, Moore. Were you in charge of that decision?" The man needled relentlessly.

"I'm not in charge of any decisions around here. If I were, things would be different." Moore managed.

"I'm sure there is a very good reason why you're not in charge." Mark retorted; his look overly quiet. "Why don't you go over in the corner there and lick your wounds. The big boys are out playing right now. You're gonna get hurt if you don't stay out of their way. Just a friendly warning."

"Yeah, we've had about all we can take." Danny cut the man a glare. "Not so friendly a warning. Take it to heart."

Moore swallowed hard, returning to his desk.

"You gonna eat that cinnamon roll?" Mark pointed to his preference.

"Knock yourself out, little buddy." Daniel inclined his head politely.

Smiling affably, Danny grabbed the large confection, handing it along with napkins to his counterpart. He had come over to intimidate Moore, of course, but also retrieve his own equipment.

"Damn, this is fresh." Mark nodded his approval, taking a bite.

"Red has them delivered every morning." Liz made mention. "There's also free vending over there," she motioned to a nearby room, "... if you need a sandwich or something. We wanted to make you feel at home, Mark, since you were so gracious a host in Texas."

"Well, thank you, Elizabeth." The man grinned infectiously. "I'm starting to feel at home." He sent Moore a quiet look.

Francis grasped Red's shoulder as he moved to join Lizzy. "Red, I'm in love with Samar. Can I take her home?"

"Well, Francis, she's been known to push men out of high-rise buildings on a whim." Red mused, having caught the Agent's amused eyes. "I'm thinking...take your chances. She's worth it, right?"

"Right." Francis was happy again, his eyes returning to the lovely agent. "So very, very right."

"But...Francis." Liz's conscience was nagging at her. She felt obliged to remind him of Melissa and–

"Shhh." Red put a finger to her lips, his stare a cautious one. "Don't rock the boat. The boy's happy again and not thinking about Ben or Melissa or...anything else, for that matter, right?" He kept his tone just for her.

"Yeah?" Francis pulled his attention away from his new favorite subject with difficulties.

"...Never mind." Liz forced a smile. "I just wanted another glazed." She pointed and Francis handed one over. "Thank you."

Red gave a minute shake of his head with her returned attention. "No need to bring any of the women in on this yet, is there?"

Looking up at the man questioningly, Liz nodded her acquiescence after a brief hesitation.

"While Nora only upset your sensibilities," Red's eyes twinkled mischievously as he turned back to the boy, "Samar here could end up killing you outright."

Red chuckled under his breath when Samar winked saucily at Francis, neither denying nor confirming the accusation.

"Oh," Francis pursed his lips, "she's into like... autoerotic asphyxiation?" The man's eyes glazed over. "Bondage, no, wait... spanking?" He snapped his attention towards Samar. "Because you know, I've been a really bad boy."

"I don't doubt you can be," Samar muttered, withholding her own amusement. "Given the right incentive."

"Oh, damn!" Francis blotted his suddenly damp brow. "You know," he turned back to the dark-haired beauty, "I also enjoy handcuffs immensely." He sold himself to the woman. "That should be right up your alley, right?"

"He's grown accustomed to them over the years, after all." Red murmured aside to Samar, earning a small, stifled laugh in return.

Grabbing a stool, Francis eagerly sat opposite the woman, his expression a hopeful one. "Tell me, how do you feel about... knee socks?"

Dropping his head, Red closed his eyes. The kid had to go there, of course. It was Francis' one real weakness.

"I look so sweet and demure in them." Samar was not going to be outdone here, it was clear, but the woman held the professional air about her at all times, Red noted, which meant she was playing and having a pretty good time.

Grimacing, Francis dropped his own head. "I'm in fucking heaven." He whispered his gratitude and awe of the woman's abilities.

"Okay, what the hell are you people talking about?" Donald Ressler asked, having sat patiently now for the last few minutes, taking in everything. Getting his own bearings. "Have you all lost what little common sense and decency you had?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Francis squinted hard at the Agent. "Who are you anyway? You've been hovering there, listening in on personal conversations, like a fly on shit."

"Fly on the wall, Francis." Red quietly corrected, before giving a name to the faces. "This is Agent Donald Ressler and Andrew Wilson."

"Which one is your shadow's shadow?" Mark asked. Ressler clenched his jaw with barely controlled aggravation. "Never mind, it's him." He smiled unpleasantly over.

"I'm trying to give you guys the benefit of a doubt," Ressler had been, "but I don't know!"

"It's okay, Donald." Red soothed the Agent's tattered nerves.

"Wait," Francis narrowed his eyes, "I remember you... Memorial Day, right?"

Liz's brows lifted in surprise Francis remembered that.

"Uh, yeah?" Ressler vaguely recalled meeting the man now.

Red frowned curiously when Francis snapped upright, hurriedly looking back and forth between Lizzy and Donald.

Liz smiled absently the man's way. "Everything will work out, Ressler, you'll see."

Hastily pulling Lizzy aside, Francis scowled, jerking his head back towards Ressler. "Please tell me you didn't." He whispered stringently.

"Didn't... what?" Liz whispered right back.

"You screwed... him?" Francis grimaced his distaste, glancing back at an irritated agent who was watching the scene unfold.

"Eww, no!" Liz's nose scrunched with disgust, continuing the raspy whispering.

"I know it's me you're talking about, dammit." Ressler snapped. "What?!"

"You said you did!" Francis quietly hissed, ignoring the red-head agent completely. "When we went to New York!"

"Oh... right." Liz remembered now.

"You remember...when Red about fucked Ariana." Francis graciously reminded.

Liz threw Red an evil look. "Oh, yeah...I remember."

Drawing in a long, weary breath, Red cut murderous eyes towards Francis... all of which Francis missed.

"We were trying to keep our cover intact." She motioned between herself and Red. "I knew Red would remember that little falsehood better than any other."

"Him and me both." Francis gagged slightly. Lizzy shivered in supposed revulsion, to Red's amusement.

Francis walked away, casting a suspicious look Ressler's way.

"What?" Ressler spread his hands expressively as Francis passed. "Give a guy a chance to clear his name for whatever the hell I'm supposed to have done, will ya?"

"In your dreams, buddy!" Liz sneered, confusing Ressler all the more.

Red's lips twitched slightly, but he held his composure.

Francis returned to Samar, instantly forgetting the entire incident. He smiled down at the woman, plopping his ass on her desk edge. "I can take you places you've never been. I hope you know that."

"I've never been to the moon, which is where you're about to land," Samar cut him a look, "if you don't get your ass off my desk."

"Sacred territory, eh?" Francis nodded knowingly, but popped up hastily. "In no way do I wish to upset Mistress Navabi." Bowing his head, he backed away subserviently. "No way. See? Off your desk. Would you like me at your feet? Worshiping the Goddess that you are?"

Samar's lips twitched slightly but she held her composure. "Better. Now, park it over there, and let me get these reports out... then we can play."

Francis... parked it.

"And stop staring at me." Samar's brow lifted slightly as those dark eyes sent over a warning.

Francis shifted obedient eyes, sending Red a thumbs up sign. He swung the stool back and forth, swishing it side to side, his face one big smile of happiness. "I'm just so happy to be here!"

Red admired the boy's optimism. "Yes, Francis. So you've said."

Harold Cooper's arrival interrupted the games. The man came to stand before Reddington, having given the new people a compulsory glance. "I thought there would be more." He mentioned, having offered his hand to Red, which was taken.

"There will be." Red shrugged. "Just the first wave."

"Don't trust us yet, hum?" Cooper surmised. "I would take offense, but I'm considering the source."

Red lifted an impressed brow. "Look at you being all saucy today. Come meet them...officially."

Introductions were made.

Cooper sized them up even as he was being sized up. "They appear a little standoffish."

"It's just their way." Red explained, smiling over to the men.

"Hey," Francis sidled up beside Mark, for Samar was busy and the kid bored easily. "Can you really find anything or anyone?" He was curious. "You, uh... know where Jimmy Hoffa is?"

"I ain't saying." Mark muttered, turning the man a straight face.

"Francis Holbrook." Red sighed, unsure how to label Francis in the grand scheme of things. "Come meet Director Cooper. He's alright, even if he still believes in the system."

Francis offered a jaunty smile and wave to the gathered masses. "I'm just happy to be here."

Biting her lip, Liz contained the bubbling laughter building in her throat.

The silence was telling. Harold cleared his throat. "Are we all here for a meet and greet or..." He moved things along.

The boys turned serious suddenly, then looked at Red for the go-ahead.

Daniel clicked files in rapid succession, splashing pictures up on the screens overhead.

"A man known to us as the Trinity has popped up on our radar recently, and he's the very last person you want to hear is in the vicinity." Red gestured, centering everyone's attention on McSha's smiling face. "He's one seriously dangerous man."

"And why is that?" Harold asked. "He appears rather incongruous with–"

"He's the best of the best when it comes to explosives," Red stated, once again motioning to the screens overhead, this time to pictures of the aftermath of the man's work.

"The Trinity?" Wilson asked. "Is there some significance to the moniker?"

"Trinity was the code name for the first atomic bomb test." Aram said, then ducked his head when everyone looked his way. "Eh, that's how I assume the name came about, anyway?"

"Very good, Aram." Red smiled, patting the man on the shoulder. "That's exactly right."

"And does this, Trinity, have a real name?" Cooper inquired.

"Sean McSha." Daniel brought up the most recent photo of the man up on the screens as Red continued talking.

The guy was walking down a street in Dublin, not a care in the world, it seemed. His jacket hood was down, his face out there for the world to see, care anyone look.

"He's been directly," Red said, waving a hand about, "or indirectly involved in every major bombing that's occurred from Oklahoma City to Afghanistan."

A series of more pictures containing Trinity's work followed, thanks again to Daniel.

"He's been linked to the IRA, Jihads, al Qaeda, Columbians, etcetera." Red delivered the Intel on hand. "If his price was met, he worked for them. McSha has no allegiance, to anyone. He can work with you one week, and in the next, take you out." He paused, canting his head. "Though, he does have people who he has never had any trouble with...to date."

"Meaning you?" Cooper turned to the man.

Red shrugged.

"And you're only bringing him to our attention now, why?" Harold enquired.

"McSha has, until recently, focused his attention on the Koreans." Red arched a brow. "Let's all be honest, no one gives a damn if the political structure of North Korea is getting bombed. Indeed, most applaud his noble goals."

"But now he has shifted his center of attention." Samar had arisen from her desk, sauntering over. She scanned the carnage of the pictures overhead.

"Whisperings in the wind say... this time? He's exceeded usual expectations." Red laid out the facts as he knew them. "We haven't heard what the target is, yet, but it's going to be a destructive and deadly one if our Intel is correct."

"Political? The Capitol Building, Congress?" Ressler was running through possible targets in his head.

"Not necessarily. You're thinking like a Fed again, Ressler." Red scolded.

"The U.S. isn't always on everyone's agenda." Francis rolled his eyes for such linear thinking. "Think on a grander scale."

"Anything else, outside those boundaries, is not our jurisdiction." Ressler reminded any and all. "I wish it were, but wouldn't Interpol take over?"

"Not if we don't tell them about it." Red said. "The fewer people involved, means the less likely someone will leak something that gets back to McSha."

"No one here would do that." Moore had to say it or die. "No Agent, that is."

"Yes," Danny cut the guy a lazy stare, "cause we all know Feds can't be bought."

Cooper cleared his throat gently. "Stay focused, gentlemen, please."

"We only need a few hours." Red glanced at Mark, who was working diligently, phone to ear. He gave over his attention sporadically, but otherwise, kept a running dialogue with whomever he had on the other end of the line.

"Since he's spanning the globe, perhaps the targeted areas are connected somehow?" Samar thought aloud. "If it's political, maybe embassies or military installations?" She suggested a few ideas. "If it's not political, maybe tourist attractions, large city hubs, parades?"

"I could listen to you for hours, my love. And I would follow you anywhere." Francis hooked a thumb. "Those losers, not so much. Your beauty is only exceeded by your intellect."

"I like the way you think." She was musing on the Sean McSha thing, though, her thoughts focused and direct. "You said there was a pattern?"

Danny nodded. "There's a random pattern of sorts with McSha's madness, if one can call it such. A pattern, mind you, not the madness, which is a given." He gestured, and Aram pulled up some graphs.

"It doesn't make too much sense, granted." Aram apologized.

"Unless you're Irish." Danny grinned. "Which he is, through and through."

"Okay, look." Liz walked along the line of photos. "First, he hits a university science building here, then an embassy," the woman had been thinking as well. "But then, he targeted a small private hospital, followed by political party headquarters."

"But that was over four months ago." Samar cut in. "See the timestamp on the photos?"

"He's laid low for quite a while," Ressler joined in.

"There's no pattern there." Wilson was actively working on the case as well. "None I see. Anyone else?"

"We thought..." Daniel checked with Aram, "personal vendettas with the hospital and science building. Only one person was taken out in each."

"The hospital administrator and a lab technician in the other." Aram reported their findings.

"Political statements with the Embassy and the Party headquarters," Danny finished. "If you track his movements over the past two years, the pattern pretty well stays the same."

"The Irish in him would account for the political hits," Red mused. "His grandfather and his father were very involved with such things."

"The personal?" Liz scratched her head. "There's no real money in them, right?"

"He's doing it because he thinks it needs to be done." Samar scoffed lightly, but her expression was a little lost. "Maybe because someone he knows has been wronged? Someone in his family, perhaps? Some friend along the way asks him for a favor?"

"What the hell kind of person blows up another simply because someone asks it of them?" Ressler couldn't fathom such a mind.

"One with principles." Francis shrugged aimlessly.

"Warped ones." Moore said.

"You would know all about that, Dick." Francis chuckled at his own wit.

"Enlarge on that friend idea, Navabi." Cooper instructed his agent.

"I was just thinking," she explained, "in my country, there are blood oaths carried out by family members if someone dies from what is considered a wrongful death, by the hands of another."

"That person is then targeted until their blood has too been spilled." Red remembered.

"Only then can the wronged person rest in the afterlife." Navabi nodded. "I'm not familiar with Irish customs concerning such things."

The silence was a thoughtful one.

"Why haven't any explosions taken place?" This time, Moore had a constructive question.

"McSha doesn't ever rush a job." Danny had read up on the guy. "And he's usually far away when the shit hits the fan, establishing a workable alibi."

"If you people know so much about this guy, why haven't you taken him out yourselves?" Moore asked a not so constructive question. "Why let him roam about free?"

"First and foremost," Danny stood to his full height, which was a good head taller than the FBI agent, "you're starting to wear on my nerves, little man. And secondly? You don't just walk up and take out someone like Sean McSha. Not and live to tell the tale."

"He lives out in the Irish countryside, by the ocean. His home is so protected by the devices he's put in place, no one has been able to get within a mile's distance without him knowing it." Francis had heard tales. "Would you like to try to surprise an explosives expert without notification?"

"We know where he lives." Red had always known that. "He is untouchable there. It's a good thing that he is away from his safe place."

"When he's in transit, is another dangerous time to approach." Daniel advised. "But if we can find him at a temporary home base, he's prepared of course," it was granted, "but I think we can surprise him because he wouldn't expect anyone to try and get him at such a time."

"Timing will be crucial." Red knew.

Moore rolled his eyes, sighing. "You find him. We'll get to him. He doesn't sound all that special to me."

"Listen up, dipshit." Danny's temper flared. "Considering you didn't know jack shit about McSha or his plans til we got here," he lowered his tone menacingly, "you better shut your fucking trap and listen to what we are advising, or you'll find yourself minced down into bite-size pieces by either one of McSha's little miniature surprises...or by me, personally."

"With that said," Cooper attempted a show of civility, "we should look into the information offered." He gestured to the available files. "Agents, if you could." He suggested strongly, thereby saving Moore's ass from any further embarrassment.

"We have a starting point." Red smiled over at a pensive Lizzy. "Let's enlarge on what we know and see where it leads."

"If we put in the legwork, time and effort... maybe we might get lucky." Cooper directed. "It's going to be a long day."

---

LIZZINGTON

---

"What we have is murky at best." Liz was drained mentally and physically. It was late, and no one had taken a rest or break for several hours.

Was it personal hits because of McSha's sense of righteousness or did someone hire him to serve what they hoped would be justice for someone lost? Why the constant switch back and forth between personal and political targets? And did the jobs he took mean anything to him? Why these jobs and not others?

"Do we have any sort of timeline? When this bombing might take place?" Ressler asked as he stretched the kink out of his back.

"No, but if I had to wager, I'd place it within this week or the next." Red felt an urgency, for the people he knew were already out of any line of fire. "As I've said, the whisperings in the underground are extensive. When the criminal element flees the cities, something big is about to develop."

"Someone is bound to notice in law enforcement, when such people start to disappear into the woodwork," Liz pointed to Red and their friends. "No offense, guys. I assume once they've scattered, McSha makes his move?"

Red nodded, confirming Lizzy's hypothesis.

"There have been instances in the past when authorities tried to interfere," Mark said as he swiveled lazily in his chair, "but it only made McSha pop his cork earlier than planned."

"So, even if we find what he's targeted, he'll still set off the device if we don't diffuse it in time." Wilson stated.

"I think I just said that." Mark looked at his constituents for confirmation.

Wilson grinned. "I was paraphrasing, of course."

"Now, we just have to pinpoint what it is that he'll blow this go round." Danny sat back, rubbing his eyes. Staring at a computer screen gave a guy a headache sometimes. "Which is impossible when there are so many options."

"Well, we at least know it's possibly a personal job." Liz pointed to the graph that Danny and Aram had drawn up.

"But it could be a school or a hospital." Mark pointed out. "Or last time, it was a train station hub."

"For all we know, he could hit the Louvre." Ressler shook a woeful head. "I've seen some of those paintings. A few look like someone has already blown them up."

"I would target Disneyland." Francis' mind wasn't exactly a happy place all the time, apparently.

"That's horrible." Liz scolded. "The happiest place on Earth?"

"Wouldn't be after the blast." Francis quipped.

"What did Goofy ever do to you?" Ressler muttered.

Red shared an amused exchange with his wife for the staid agent's out of character, but humorous quip.

"What I meant was," Francis snickered, "the least possible place is always the place, isn't it? Who would try something so reprehensible, ergo...Disneyland must be the target."

"You need to eat something." Liz decided. "You're getting weird...more so than usual."

"I could eat her...all day and night." Francis suggested another target of sorts, motioning to a blissfully unaware Samar Navabi. The woman sat at her desk, typing studiously away on some assignment Cooper had given over a while back. "Isn't she precious."

"You let her hear you talk like that, and she'll throttle you." Liz warned. "Samar likes a man who sees her merit. Not just the amazing body you seem so fixated on."

"I see her merit." Francis sighed blissfully. "And that lovely hair and those big brown eyes. And those big, honkin..."

"Shut up, Francis." Liz snapped, pushing a donut the man's way. "Here, stick this in your mouth before I put my boot in it!"

"Little snippy, aren't we?" Francis scowled his concern. "Red, you better feed this woman. She's got low blood sugar or something."

"The last target was the big Pharma companies coming out of Hong Kong." Red studied the screens, his eyes starting to blur. "It would be safe to assume that was personal, but considering the cut-throat nature of the business..." The man glanced at his friend for his take on the matter.

Dembe was sacked out, sound cancelling headphones on, book opened on his chest...the guy was out like a light. Well, it was getting late and Dembe was the designated driver, still Red envied the man.

"Can anything really be assumed concerning this guy?" Wilson asked.

Ressler agreed. "Even if you compiled the largest personal lawsuits around the world... you'd have to figure out who had the most to gain from a bombing."

"Or the person who had nothing to lose." Red countered.

"I don't know if it's feasible," Liz shrugged, "but if certain lawsuits were somehow connected..."

"Alright," Mark nodded along, "so, who gets sued the most?"

"Physicians, hospitals..." Daniel muttered irritably, as though speaking from experience.

"Construction conglomerates, banks, manufacturers of faulty equipment on cars." Ressler offered a few options.

Mark rubbed his brow hard. "Shit, this is getting us nowhere."

Leaning against the table beside Lizzy, Francis looked sightlessly at the ceiling, crossing his arms. "Airlines, pharmaceutical companies," he shared his thoughts, "...God."

"Excuse me." Liz turned disbelieving eyes the man's way. "Did you not eat?"

"Some lawyer out of Arizona sued God for negligence, in allowing a lightning bolt to hit his client's house." Francis informed all present. "When God did not show up in court, the client won the suit by default. One hundred thousand was paid by the State."

"You made that up." The woman accused.

"Sadly, no." Francis hadn't.

"It is a possibility," Wilson gave the idea credence. "It does narrow the list down a bit."

"Does it?" Moore scowled. "They just rattled off seven different areas of interest."

"Well, actually," Ressler glanced at Liz, "it does narrow things down because... only a select few of those mentioned would hold up on an international level."

"I'm sorry, I thought Donovan here could find anyone. Why don't you just use your fancy skills to do just that?" Moore snarked. "Find this bomber and we don't have to worry about his target, do we."

"Because nobody asked me nicely, Dick." Mark glanced over, his hands full of phones. One to each ear. "I'm just standing here with these objects in hand cause I look so GQ with them, don't you agree? What do you think I'm doing, dumbass? Danny, take the bastard out. I'm done with his attitude."

Danny reached out in a casual manner, catching Moore's jaw straight on with his beefy fist. The agent went down, his nose bloodied, his lip split.

Ressler hurried to help the guy up. "What the hell, man." He sent Daniel a disgruntled glare. "We can't work like this!"

"Then I suggest you tell your friend to keep his damned mouth shut." Danny suggested evenly.

Samar leaned, murmuring quietly to Elizabeth. "I'm really enjoying these guys being here."

---

LIZZINGTON

---

"Silas," Justin nudged the man's boot heel with his knee, "we're here." He hastily stepped back, for everyone knew it was unwise to awaken the large guard out of the blue most times.

Stirring awake, Silas gingerly shifted in his seat, groaning softly. "...Shit." He whispered, rubbing his face hard. "Here... where?"

"Moscow, man." Justin glanced out the plane's window. "Remember?"

"How the hell long did I sleep?" Silas grimaced. Squinting, he glanced at his watch, finding it was nearing seven in the evening... in DC anyway. Meaning it was around two in the morning in Moscow. Fucking jet lag. He felt worse than when he fell asleep.

"Here, let me help you." Justin murmured, slowly helping Silas lift his seat into an upright position. "You crashed an hour or so into the flight."

"Why the hell did you let me sleep so long?" He complained tiredly.

"Silas," Anthony tsked, "you've been shot." He reminded. "It's safe to assume you needed the rest."

"Whatever..." Silas grumbled, pushing from his seat. "It really pisses me off when people imply I'm too old to do shit. I'm not fucking old!"

"You're not old, you crotchety bastard," David sighed woefully, "...but you are a stubborn jackass."

"Shut up and get my bags." Silas bitched. He looked around his seat, his frown increasing. "Where the hell's the sandwich Nora made me."

Considering the steak Nora had made was delicious. There was no way in hell he'd forgo his sandwich, and whatever the hell else she put in the bag for him.

"I got it right here, Silas." Justin grabbed the bag from atop the bar area.

"I'll just get your bags, sir." Grinning, David executed a sharp bow before gathering the man's satchel along with his own. "What's on the agenda?"

"Getting to Red's townhouse," Silas straightened, taking the pressure off his wounds, "where we'll sleep until...this damned brain fog lifts."

"You'll hear no complaints from me," Justin said, turning on his heel towards the exit.

"You staying?" Silas asked Anthony Burke who had stood by, listening with a smile. "There's room at the townhouse."

"If you don't mind," Anthony said. "I'd like to give the pilots a chance to rest."

Picturing the three-story structure Red had won over a poker game, Silas mentally counted off eight bedrooms, which more than met their needs.

"We got room." Silas assured. "Grab 'em." Rubbing his aching temples, he motioned to the cockpit. "I wanna lay my ass down in a dark room and just contemplate the Universe from behind closed lids for a goodly while."

"Afraid you'll combust otherwise?" David cracked.

---

LIZZINGTON

---

Cricking his neck, Red squeezed the tense muscle. Glancing at the clock, he sighed.

Six hours...

The last time he had been at the Post Office over six hours, he'd been imprisoned in the box and flirting unabashedly with Lizzy.

This time around was infinitely better as he freely ate, drank, used the facilities, and was now married to Elizabeth...but there was something about this place that always set him on edge.

It was torturous, being in a place he loathed for such an inordinate amount of time.

Sure, maybe there was a part where it didn't sit right, him up and leaving everyone else to do all the work. He hadn't had a problem with it before, however. Was he becoming maudlin in his thinking patterns?

If it wasn't for Elizabeth, and his desire to be with her and watch her back, he would have left hours ago.

Though all were busy compiling McSha's timeline, he didn't trust Moore to not create a ruckus with Elizabeth should he walk out that door. Although admittedly, since Daniel's right hook, the agent seemed to have settled down considerably...at least for the duration.

After Elizabeth's run in with Carver, Red knew she could handle herself against the likes of that bastard, Moore.

Elizabeth had become rather mercurial of late...or bloodthirsty, as Silas affectionately called it. One never knew how the woman would react at any given moment. It was a rather exciting way to live.

He liked that about her, that she kept him guessing and on his toes.

Preventing Elizabeth from committing murder on federal property wasn't the only reason he was here, of course.

While he would normally provide Lizzy actionable Intel and carry on his merry way... this time felt different. McSha was a friend of sorts. Whatever the guy had planned was going to mean perhaps a rift would develop in that friendship. It bothered Red.

Especially since whatever it was could possibly unfold right here in DC.

With that in mind, he stayed to help Lizzy understand what they were up against, in hopes it would lead them to stop whatever it was McSha had planned.

His thoughts were interrupted by a slight vibration in his pocket.

Pulling the phone free, he answered the call. "Yes?"

"We're here..." Silas replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

"You sound like shit," Red made mention. He had hoped a long flight would give the guard some downtime.

"I guess that's a step up from the old bastard remarks." Silas muttered around a bite of Nora's sandwich. He looked around for his dipping sauce.

"No one said you were old, but you," Red heard David say. "Sure, we called you a grumpy prick, but we do that all the time. Oh, here's your sauce, Silas."

"Flight went well, huh." Red read the room.

"The flight was fine." Silas grumbled loudly, obviously blocking David or Justin's commentary. "We're heading for the townhouse now." He said. "What trouble has she gotten into since I left?"

"It's only been a little over seven hours." Red's mouth twisted into an exasperated tilt.

"Your point?" Silas exhaled heavily. "Has she stepped out of line? Is she giving Joe the business? Put her on the line."

"Lizzy is helping her team. She's fine, Silas. She misses you, of course."

"Sure she does." The man laughed hollowly. "Like a dog misses a tick."

"And she hasn't left my sight since your take-off..." Red said. "We're at the Blacksite."

"And she hasn't threatened Moore or anything?" Silas readied himself for the worst.

"She's been concentrating on the job. The guys are handling Moore, so stop worrying."

"So..." Silas lowered his voice, his hand cupping the phone. "...You're at the Blacksite?"

"Samar is here, yes." Red smiled slightly, glancing at the woman. "You want to speak with her?"

"Why would I want tha–" he trailed off. "Yeah, I want to, but I shouldn't, not yet. Is...is she alright?"

"She seems a little melancholy. Maybe she's missing you too, Silas."

Silas fell silent.

Red tried again. "She really is a most beautiful woman, isn't she."

"...Yeah." Silas' tone had softened, and he seemed in better spirits. "Tell her...I'm looking for the right gift for her."

"I'll do that." Red smiled, genuinely pleased the man sounded better.

"Tell your wife not to go off half-cocked and do something she'll regret when I get back."

"I'll pass it on." Red nodded, eyeing the woman affectionately before sobering somewhat. "Everyone is concentrating on the Trinity here."

"McSha?" Silas scowled at the news. "What's the little pyro fucker done now?"

Relating all he knew about the problem at hand, Red glanced over the list he jotted down earlier. "Just a warning, McSha was spotted in Russia as well, so... keep your head down and your ears open."

"Don't you know it," Silas grumbled. "That's all I fucking need," he groused, "to be shot and catch shrapnel days apart."

"You're becoming more optimistic, I see." Red's brows lifted with surprise. "At least you didn't think you'd get blown up this time."

"God wouldn't be so kind as to put me out of my misery." Silas muttered morosely.

"And you've found religion," Red sweetened the pot, "... or at least, God."

"I've always known where to find God," Silas countered. "I expect the only way I'll be admitted entrance to heaven, however, is when Samar parts her thighs."

"I'm proud of you, Silas." Red provoked his guard with a smile. "It's so good to hear you've set lofty goals to achieve in your future."

"Get fucked..." Silas grimaced as his wound pulled.

Red glanced about, eyeing his wife. "I plan to..." he said. "Get some rest, and I mean that. I'll update you when I know more."

---

LIZZINGTON

---

Keeping Elizabeth supplied with copious amounts of tea and snacks, Red helped where he could. Both relentlessly poured over case notes relating to McSha's previous work, what little good it did.

Though they had solidified they were right that a lawsuit had been filed against previous targets, it still got them nowhere closer to McSha's next objective.

As they neared the eight-hour mark, Red's eyes softened as Lizzy leaned tiredly into a nearby table, her shoulders slumping.

"Are you hungry?" Red asked as he came up alongside her, surreptitiously stroking a gentle hand down her back.

"That ...and stiff and tired and frustrated and...feeling pretty stupid along about now." Liz rubbed her strained eyes. Standing upright, she rubbed the ache in her neck.

"Why don't we go home, get dinner," Red murmured, "take a long hot shower," he painted a pleasant picture, "and go to bed."

"I don't know?" Liz yawned around a grimace of indecision. "There's so much to do."

Gesturing for his boys to pack up, Red grabbed Lizzy's light jacket, slinging it about her shoulders, decision made.

"You cannot save the world in one day, Lizzy." Red soothed away her concern. "Especially not without rest and sustenance."

Noticing the others preparations to depart, Ressler and Aram gratefully followed suit.

"Excuse me, are we done here?" Moore frowned his confusion, seeing the preparations being made.

Hesitating in his trek, Aram glanced questioningly at Ressler, unsure what to do.

Shaking an exasperated head, Ressler waved Aram to ignore the guy before shrugging his suit jacket on over his shoulders.

"You really are an all-around asshole, aren't you?" Francis asked, as though interested in the answer. "You should do something about that. Leads to hypertension, hemorrhoids, flatulence." He rattled off. "And broken noses."

"I knew you people would bail when things got tough, I just didn't expect it the first day." Moore scowled at Daniel packing away his equipment.

"Blow me." Danny said, zipping his case.

Hastily slinging his bag over his shoulder, Aram stepped behind the large man, using his bulk as a barrier against the rise in tension.

"Excuse me... Dick?" Francis garnered the man's attention. "Why are you questioning our work ethic when we did everything, and you did nothing, all day long?"

"We're getting food, Moore." Liz replied, her tone drained.

"Better yet, why are you explaining yourself to him?" Francis demanded to know.

"I'm not explaining, I'm making a suggestion that perhaps we should all take a break." Liz explained to Francis. "We're spinning our wheels."

Francis spun, placing his chin on his fist as he leaned on Samar's desk.

"You should come," he emphasized the word, "with me." He lifted placating hands. "First of all, it relieves tension and stress, as everyone knows." And at her cool glance, he hurriedly continued. "But just being in my company sometimes makes a woman feel better. You look like you need to feel better for a while. Why don't you let me work my magic?"

Snorting quietly, Red grabbed his hat, listening to the not-so-subtle flirting.

"I could use a little magic in my life." Samar said. Pushing from her seat, she grabbed her jacket and bag. "And I'm assuming you're footing the bill? We are talking food here, right?"

"Navabi..." Moore shifted narrowed eyes towards the woman. "You don't have to go with them."

"Stay out of this, I'm scoring here." Francis scowled at the man. "Of course I'm buying, unless you'd like to cut to the chase and go back to my house," he offered the enticement, "where you will be treated like the Queen you are."

"It's better to go with him than stay with you." Samar shot a cross look the other agent's way. "You've embarrassed the hell out of yourself today, and seem determined to keep doing it. Which is anyone's guess as to the why of such stupidity."

"Maybe you'd like a black eye to go with the nose." Francis stepped threateningly toward Moore.

"I'm starving." Samar placed a gentle hand on the man's arm. "I thought you said you were going to work some magic here...when does the show start? A girl's got to keep up her energy."

"Well then, let us get you fed, right now." Francis smiled when Samar hooked her arm about his offered one. "Lots of grains and veggies, yeah? I mean, since I can supply all the protein you will ever want later?"

"Ugh, Francis." Liz groaned her distaste. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Go..." Daniel motioned Aram to walk.

"Yes, okay." Quickly spinning on his heels, Aram bolted for the elevator with all due haste.

Turning about, Red searched out Mark Donovan, who was tarrying over by the far wall, phone in hand, as usual. He hesitated when he noted Ressler staring hard at Samar.

Canting his head, Red watched the silent exchange between the two, more so the darkened scowl Samar gave the man before turning away.

Well, now... that was interesting.

"What?" Liz asked, for she noted Red's preoccupation.

"I'll tell you later." Red murmured. Hooking Mark's elbow, he lifted the man off the stool, pushing him towards the exit. "We're going home for a while, oh, intrepid one. Come along."

Mark allowed himself to be manipulated, still speaking to the person on the other end of the line.

The team loaded into the elevator. The doors closed shut.

"Got him." Mark said, slapping his phone shut, his proclamation for Red's ears alone.

"McSha? You found him?" Red turned his attention, keeping his tone low as well, for the others were conversing in a normal tone as the ride continued.

Danny was asking about Samar's perfume. Emma's was almost exactly the same, it seemed.

"That's what I meant when I said, got him." Mark frowned superficially. "Are you getting senile?" He quipped. "Too much time spent with Moore eating away at your brain cells?"

"Where's the little bastard?" Red asked, his tone strained. "Can we get to him, and if so...how long will it take?"

Directing his attention where it was needed, Mark locked eyes with Red's, hooking his thumb north. "Five hours, give or take."

"Something coming down?" Ressler had noted the quiet conversation, asking for intel if any would be forthcoming.

"Not your problem, Ressler." Red said as the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. "And not your jurisdiction. I'll apprise you when it is."

Ressler sputtered his indignation. "We're a part of this operation, just like–"

"Ressler," Red sighed, "go eat... sleep. We'll deal with this shit in the morning when we can all think straight."

Taking Lizzy's arm, Red frowned his concern when she stumbled slightly over the elevator threshold.

"Lost in my own thoughts.." Liz explained her distraction, waving off Red's concern. "Night, Ressler." She murmured tiredly.

"...Yeah," Ressler nodded reluctantly, feeling a little beat himself, "goodnight. Come on, Aram... I'll give you a ride home."

Quickly falling in step beside Ressler, Aram followed as the man headed the opposite direction.

Wrapping his arm about Lizzy's waist, Red trailed after Dembe as they made their way across the parking garage, directing his attention back to the man beside him.

"What is our window of opportunity?" Red asked.

"Booked three nights." Mark related the needed Intel. "A cabin in Alberta."

Red had more than a few associates in Canada who could get eyes on McSha until they went to retrieve the man.

"Three nights, hum." Red was formulating plans.

"We need to pack and go." Mark was anxious to get underway.

"No...we need to rest then plan." Red corrected. "We have the jet. He's only a few hours away. We'll have someone sit on him."

"Well, we can plan during the flight." Mark suggested strongly.

"Mark, even bomb experts need to sleep." Red gave the young man a long suffering look.

"Especially, bomb experts." Mark hoped fervently. "Don't want that guy making any mistakes just because he hadn't slept well."

"We'll be out by nine tomorrow." Red knew it was possible. "Tell the others, but wait until we're on home base." He glanced Samar's way.

"Don't we trust her?" Mark was surprised.

"We're not sure yet." Red told the truth. He hoped, for Silas' sake, the woman could be trusted to keep any confidences offered over, but until he had tested her...Red wasn't going to act on faith just yet.

"Right now, stop worrying," Red suggested strongly, "and get some rest."

"I'll rest better once we get the asshole." Mark muttered.

"Agreed." Red stepped out into the night air. The coolness felt good on his skin after so long a period of confinement. "Dembe...let's go home."

He had dinner to eat, a shower to take, and a wife to bed.

---

LIZZINGTON

---

Now, with McSha's location confirmed... Red and Francis called contacts in Canada to see who could quickly get and keep eyes on McSha until their arrival.

Based on the assumption McSha would not act on any threat for at least three days, all decided it was safe for the ladies to return. Once reunited, the couples went off in pursuit of their own activities for the evening.

Left to their own devices, Liz took Samar on a brief tour of her home before heading upstairs to a vacant room at the end of the hall.

"We thought if something like this ever came up, and the team needed a place to crash for the night," Liz opened the closet, "everyone would have the necessities on hand."

Samar inspected the garments, her brows lifting. "They're in my size."

"Red's weird like that." Liz shrugged off the plastic wrapped clothing. "There are also toiletries in the bathroom." She said, then motioned to a set of drawers.

"I forgot to ask earlier," Samar opened a drawer, finding a line of neatly rolled underthings. The second drawer provided swim wear. "Where did you go for your honeymoon?"

Liz sighed, then shrugged sorrowfully. "It's been postponed for the time being."

"Because of McSha?" Samar questioned.

"Long story short," Liz said, "we decided to wait and do it properly when we had more time."

"And that... disappointed you." Samar read the undercurrent well enough.

"A little." Liz downplayed the emotions. "Of course."

"You really love this guy, don't you." Samar only just realized by the obvious depth of sadness Liz exhibited. "I'm glad you've found each other then. Really."

Liz smiled her pleasure. "I'm glad too, Samar. I love him so much."

"Then I hope you get your time together soon." The woman returned the smile. "This is a beautiful house and a wonderful room. Thank you for allowing me the experience. It's a kick, isn't it?" Both women chuckled their amusement.

"The lifestyle is unique and most times, fun as hell, yeah." Liz admitted. "This is how the other half lives, true, but Red makes it seem like home anywhere we happen to be."

"Speaking of life-styles..." Samar had another subject to tackle. "This Francis guy. I know he's a big roller in the Syndicate. He's throwing around words like yachts and personal chefs. Is he for real?"

"Didn't you research him?" Liz was curious.

"McSha took priority, unfortunately. Haven't had time." Samar confessed.

"Francis is pretty much what you see." Liz smiled. "He is, as you say...a high roller in his profession, but he's other things which endear him to me."

Samar sat on the edge of the bed, giving over her attention.

"There isn't much to tell, really." Liz shrugged her shoulders. "He's an acquired taste, that's for sure." She grinned her affection.

Samar cut Liz a scolding look.

"No, really, there isn't a lot to tell," Liz replied. "From what I'm understanding, he's only had one serious girlfriend, and it didn't end well."

"He was unfaithful?" Samar assumed.

"No, I don't think it was that." Liz frowned. "No, I know it wasn't that." She knew Francis, and how loyal he was. "The woman wasn't a good fit for him, that's all. From what Red implied, she was a user."

Pulling the elastic holding her ponytail high atop her head, Samar ran her fingers through the long strands, allowing it to fall along her spine.

"Red seems very protective of the kid."

"You think of him as that? I guess he is on the young side, especially when one considers his profession." Liz hadn't thought of it in such terms. "For the record, you're the same age as Francis." She scolded superficially.

"I feel a hundred years older." The woman quipped. "Especially of late." She mused quietly.

"Well, you're not." Liz shook her head at such ramblings. "Red is a mentor to Francis, I guess. They share a very close friendship."

"A father figure?" Samar glanced up.

"Francis has a father, but the relationship is strained, it's true. He refuses to accept Francis' chosen vocation from what I understand." Liz knew that much. "There's a definite rift there."

"Red didn't want me to put in my two-cents but...Samar, Francis is in a relationship of sorts with a woman. Her name is Melissa." Liz felt comfortable in sharing the fact. "I know you're not really interested in him in that fashion, right?"

"I'm not interested in being a rebound." Samar grinned at herself in the mirror. "What woman is."

"Its probably just a misunderstanding on everyone's part." Liz shrugged. "I think Francis genuinely likes you. How could he not? You're so beautiful and mysterious and...everything Missy is not."

"Yes." Samar's eyes saddened a tad. "I'm a real catch."

"Well, yeah! You are." Liz scowled darkly. "Why did you say it like that?"

The woman remained silent, simply staring at her reflection in the mirror of the dressing table.

"Are you interested?" Liz needed to know. "In Francis?"

"We're just flirting...something to pass the time." Samar swivelled her head slightly. "I am a woman, Liz. I like for a man to notice me."

"Every man notices you, Samar." Liz's eyes softened. Leading the woman down the stairs, she smiled back at her friend. "You have to be aware of that fact."

Again, the woman fell silent.

"What about Aram? I thought, for a while, you guys were..." Liz let it go, not wanting to butt in if it was a sore subject.

"Aram is a good man in his own way." Samar would say. "Let's just say, things are at a stalemate there."

Liz let it go, guiding Samar to the parlor. She pushed the door to, allowing them a sense of privacy. "And you've intimated that Silas is asking too much at this time?"

"Silas...is Silas." The lovely woman's smile softened. "Can we speak of other things?"

"Will you stay the night?" Liz motioned upwards to the room. "We might have to leave at a moment's notice if word comes in about the bomber guy. We do that a lot around here. If you're already here, it will save time if you want to go along."

"I want to go along." Samar knew for certain. "I would love to stay, if it's really not an imposition. "

A gentle tap on the door had Liz crossing to open the already cracked doorway. "Oh, it's you." She opened the door wider. "I was just telling Samar of some of our amenities. Care to continue the tour?" She had noted Samar's mood seemed to lift a little with Francis Holbrook's arrival. "You can show her downstairs, maybe the pool."

"Hey, hot mama." Francis looked Samar over appreciatively. "Wanna get wet?"

Liz groaned, "...Francis Holbrook!" she shook her head woefully.

"You said show her the pool!" Francis snarked. "Cut me some slack, woman! I'm working a tough room here." He indicated the woman across the way, which made Samar smile at him.

"You promised me dinner." Samar arose, coming to confront the man personally.

"I did..." Francis waved a gallant hand for the woman to proceed him. "I made reservations for a private room atLa Vie. I hope you approve?"

"Oh?" Samar was admittedly impressed. "I've never been... heard it was wonderful, though."

"...Not as wonderful as the company I keep." Red supplied an appropriate reply with a roll of his eyes when Francis did not come up with a suitable compliment. He had come on scene only seconds before, having searched out his wife.

Kissing Lizzy's sweet lips, Red offered an affectionate hug. "There you are, beautiful wife of mine."

Samar's eyes watched the scene, warming as it progressed. The man truly seemed very enamored by Elizabeth. Such spontaneous emotions could not be faked.

"What he said." Francis was momentarily thrown. "I got lost in those amazingly beautiful eyes."

"Better." Red approved. "Now, go, have a great time, you kids. Have her home by ten."

"It's almost ten now, dad," Francis reminded. "I had to threaten to kill people to get the staff to stay on at the restaurant. They were going to close up at eleven, had I not."

"You didn't have to do that." Samar was touched. "Not the killing part...the other. I would have been happy with a burger."

"No way." Francis took her arm, gently leading her down the corridor. "Has to be the best for you, lady. Cause...you deserve it."

Red nodded approvingly. The boy was recovering nicely.

Liz leaned on his shoulder, watching the couple depart. But Red switched things up on her...

She tittered softly when the man snuggled up to her backside and nuzzled his nose into her neckline, kissing the dip in her shoulder.

"You hungry, baby." He murmured, squeezing his arms about Lizzy's waist.

"I'm starving." Liz admitted.

"Don't wait up, Pops." Francis called out, for the couple had stopped in the foyer. The man helped Samar with her light jacket, for the wind had a nip tonight coming off the Potomac.

"I'll pop you, you little bastard." Red's frown was instantaneous. "I'll wipe the floor with your dead ass if you're not back here in two hours."

Francis grinned impishly.

"Feed me." Liz turned the man's face back, tip-toeing to catch Red's mouth. The man deepened the kiss instantly, his arms going about the small waist.

Samar drew her gaze away. "They seem very affectionate."

"Yeah, he jumps her bones all the time." Francis walked the woman to the front door, with only one careless grimace Red and Lizzy's way. "Don't know how such an old man keeps it up continuously."

Samar chuckled. "He's not old." She allowed him to open the door for her, noticing the gentlemanly act. "Not used to that. You'll spoil me."

"Plan to." Francis shrugged nonchalant shoulders. "You should be spoiled rotten, and I'm just the guy to do it."

"Are you?" She preceded him, turning once outside. She stopped, her hand coming to his face. The woman placed her lips gently on Francis'. "Thank you for...well, according to Liz...just being you. You certainly are a breath of fresh air. Were you aware how encouraging your attitude is for a woman going through..." she trailed off, shaking away her maudlin thoughts.

"What are you going through, lovely lady?" Francis was astute, seeing something in the dark depths. "My shoulders are broad, if you need one to lean on. Were you aware?"

Samar smiled, then allowed the man to guide her to his car, which was an impressive model indeed. "Is this Red's?"

Francis glanced to the vehicle, opening the door for the woman. "This thing?" He squinched his nose. "Red wouldn't be caught dead in this." He motioned to the Porsche. "Says it's a chick car."

Samar scowled her confusion. "A chick car." She chuckled, looking over the sleek lines of the beauty. "Well, this is one chick who wouldn't mind owning one."

Francis dangled the key fob. "It's yours."

The woman's mouth fell agape, for she sensed the man was serious. "I d-didn't mean..."

Francis laughed. "I'm serious." He tried to force her to take the fob, but Samar clenched her hand, her expression more than shocked.

"I know you are." She backed away. "Francis..."

"I like how you say my name." The man leaned on the car, his arms extended to enclose her body. "There are no strings attached...I promise. I just like to see you smile."

"I don't need the car." The woman assured gently. "I do, however, enjoy that you make me smile." She did so, tenderly. "Let's get going. I want to see what this baby can do out on the open road."

Francis grinned, waving his hand, leaning away. "My lady's wishes, is my command."

---

LIZZINGTON

---

With everyone off pursuing their own interests, Red focused on his own interests.

"Alone, at last," Red murmured, kissing the woman at length. "Whatever shall we do?"

"I'm flexible... given the right incentive." Liz teased.

"I have a surprise for you." Red muttered, taking Lizzy's hand in his own.

"The magic words..." She smiled happily. Clasping Red's fingers, she snuggled to his side.

Red's eyes softened on the woman's small upturned face and trusting, and openly vulnerable eyes.

The terrace was strung with lights for ambiance, two gigantic flower urns were profuse with lovely blooms. An elegant table centered the area, complete with lace tablecloth and stylish place settings.

"Oh, Red!" Liz's face softened. "How pretty and...thoughtful!" She hugged him enthusiastically, hurrying to examine everything in more minute detail. "Did Nora do this?"

While trapped at the Blacksite, and Lizzy looking so worn, Red had taken the initiative to call home for reinforcements. He happily conspired with Nora to set his plan in motion. He left it to the cook's capable hands to set up the private, romantic setting on their private terrace.

As usual, Nora and the guards had exceeded his expectations.

"And the guys." Red enjoyed the completed effect. "They did a good job. It's very nice, isn't it?"

"Nice? It's amazingly beautiful and romantic and," Liz went to the man, kissing him softly, "...so you."

Red grinned down at the woman. "The magic is still here, at least for me." He kissed her right back, deepening the emotional caress with time.

Liz lifted her arms, leaning to his solidness and warmth for a goodly spell. "Oh, I've needed this." She realized after the day's worries and stress. "Thank you so much. Really."

"It's not too cold?" He felt the wind, but this side of the house was sheltered. "I can get you a wrap?"

"Let's just sit down and enjoy this feast." She allowed him to seat her. "It is so appreciated, honey."

"Honey, hum." his eyes locked and held with hers. "Hold those warm thoughts and keep them directed at me."

"You make me want to..." She watched him seat himself across from her. "Which is a very pleasurable experience, let me tell you."

Nodding, Red well understood the deeper meaning. It was nice to share private time with your spouse without underlying tension or suspicion.

For him and Lizzy, this time alone... meant so much.

Glancing at the chilled bottle of wine resting in the silver bucket, he carefully screwed the cork, working it gently, then he poured her a glass.

"Mark has located our guy. He's in Canada." Red announced without fanfare, seeking her reaction. He held up a hand to silence the reaction. "It's okay. We have some time. We'll get him, Lizzy... but later."

The woman sat back, her nerves easing. "That's wonderful news, Red."

"Mark came through for us, just like I knew he would." He motioned. "Now, I want you to eat your food before it gets cold."

Lifting the silver covering, Liz inhaled the delicious aroma drifting up from the plate. "Nora is priceless."

Red smiled, watching the woman seek out her fork.

"So, what's the plan?" She took a mouth watering bite, glancing up. "Umm." She savored the delicious morsel.

"We'll head out first thing tomorrow. I have people on McSha. They won't move in, but they will alert us to any changes in his plans."

"That worries me, though." She tried the Brussel sprouts. "What if they change and we're not there?"

"They will follow and advise." Red knew. "I hire good people, Lizzy. They know what's at stake and they know their jobs."

She nodded. "How can that woman make even Brussel sprouts taste good?"

Red's smile was back. "So tonight, we relax and rest and take time for ourselves."

"Well, Silas said, if we rush in, half-cocked, we might force McSha into doing something earlier than planned, which wouldn't be good either."

"When did you speak with Silas?" He was curious.

"He called me to give me more instructions." The woman air-quoted, rolling her eyes. "Don't go anywhere alone, don't approach Tom, don't take a piss without telling Joe..." Her head fell back, and she groaned her misery. "Don't kill Moore without alerting Mr. Kaplan first, so she can dispose of the body for me."

Red chuckled.

"He sounded tired." Liz's face clouded over. "Was this trip really a good idea, Red? Shouldn't he be resting?"

"He is resting, sweetheart. In his own way. He has something on his mind that he has to confront."

"Can we help?"

Red shook his head. "He knows I'm here. If he wants or needs anything, Silas will ask." He knew. "He's not exactly shy and retiring about such things. About...anything, actually."

Her good mood was back. "I miss him and don't you dare tell him I said so."

Red held up a pacifying hand. "My lips are sealed."

"Wonder what Francis and Samar are up to?" Her mind wandered, having sipped the wine. "Oh, Red...this is good, isn't it?"

"It is." He too took up his glass, sipping absently. "Samar will keep matters in check, not to worry."

"I don't know, she's being really moody of late." Liz pondered the fact. "Something's up with her, but she's not ready to talk yet."

"Well, whatever." Red shrugged, eating his own food. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Even if something does develop, which I doubt will...Samar will keep it contained. It won't affect their working relationship. She's an experienced, worldly woman, Elizabeth."

"Francis isn't experienced or worldly, is he?" Liz asked. "I don't want him hurt again. Not after this Missy thing, Red."

"He's not a babe in the wood, either, trust me," Red assured. "Let's let them figure it out."

Liz didn't like that notion, but remained silent.

"Samar looks at sex differently than you do, baby." The man buttered his dinner roll.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You view sex as a special moment to share with someone that's important to you."

"Is there something wrong with that?" She frowned.

"No, there's nothing wrong with that." In fact, he enjoyed knowing their intimacy was as meaningful to Lizzy as it was to him. "I'm just saying they can have sex, then work together because it was simply something which transpired because they shared a...need."

He grinned, then leaned into the moment, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "You didn't seem to have a problem with two co-workers fucking each other when it was you and me doing said fucking."

"I did have a problem with it." She folded her napkin primly, hiding her teasing eyes. "You simply seduced me when I least expecting it, that's all."

"I seduced you?" Red chuckled into his wineglass. "I recall someone who shall remain nameless, of course," he could be magnanimous when need be, "sitting in my lap seconds before offering me sex."

"By the time I figured out my plan to...gently let you down," purposely ignoring the man's commentary, she continued on, quietly clearing her throat, "you had already done the deed."

Red chuckled appreciatively. "Several times, as I recall."

"It wasn't several." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't get cocky."

"And now that you've married me," Red arched a brow. "What does that say, exactly?"

"It says, you decided to do the right thing," Liz said, keeping her eyes fixated on her plate lest she break off into a fit of giggles, "and that was to make an honest woman of me."

"Honest?" Red chortled, breaking Lizzy's facade. The woman tittered merrily as she leaned to meet him for a kiss.

"What were we talking about, anyway?" Liz frowned curiously.

"Remember when you asked what caught my interest earlier, at the post office?"

"Yeah..." she replied, then groaned her delight the moment the creamy pasta hit her tongue.

Cutting his steak, Red swirled the morsel about in its juices. "Samar and Donald slept together."

"What!" Liz yelped her surprise. "How do you know something like that?"

"Just... trust me, Lizzy. They slept together."

"Wow..." she contemplated the ramifications. "I had no idea."

"I know." The man returned to his dinner. "There was a slight tension between them, sure, but I think it was because Donald probably wanted to take the relationship further than Samar wanted."

"She does seem very protective of her privacy of late." Liz mused. "Are you going to eat that tomato?"

Red grinned, handing it over.

"He seemed a little pissed she was leaving with Francis." The conversation continued. "Now that could have been because...well, he's a mafia boss. Doesn't look good on a woman's resume." He quipped, giving his wife a pointed look. "If she's working for the FBI, I suppose."

Liz rolled her eyes, then giggled.

"Maybe some jealousy rearing its ugly head, but she handled it well." Red finished.

"She must have, cause I didn't even note the exchange." Liz popped a piece of bread in her mouth.

"There's going to be some run-ins, sure, with people who work together. Whether it's office sex or...a clash of personalities. Especially with my boys, who have absolutely no filters whatsoever."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." The woman cut him a sardonic glance.

"They're grown men. They can take care of themselves." Red knew.

"Should be a much more interesting place to work now." Liz stated.

"What else is rattling around in that head of yours?"

"My head does not rattle." She took offense. "Silas is constantly saying rude things like that to me. You should shoot him or something for it. It's rude! And now, you're starting up."

Red held his grin. "I'm not starting up and if you want me to shoot Silas, I will...but it seems the guy has been shot enough of late, is all I'm saying here."

Liz...settled, returning to her food. "Fine, then...why didn't you want me to bring up Missy's name at the Blacksite?" She lifted interested eyes. "I did pick up on that, right?"

"The Bureau can drag those girls in for questioning. Since none are married, aside from Susan...no spousal privilege to fall back on." Red always thought ahead. "Then we would be in a fix. They know more than they should at this stage of the game."

"They would never say anything."

"Oh, baby...you don't know how much pressure the Feds can put on you if they really want."

"I'm a Fed..." She motioned accordingly.

"But it didn't even occur to you that your buddies might try something like that with the girls, did it?"

She grimaced, remembering she had mentioned Missy to Samar. And told Red as much.

"I don't think Samar will make trouble for Melissa." Red waved off any concern. "She's having fun with Francis, and vice versa." He continued on his original train of thought. "There was no need to ruin the situation. Besides, Samar is concerned with McSha. She has bigger fish to fry."

"But what about Missy? Francis was laying it on pretty thick with Samar."

"In regards to Francis and Melissa, we can only offer advice or support. Not much else," He realized. "It will work out or it won't."

"Yeah, unless he sleeps with Samar." Liz exasperated.

"I don't see where that should make any difference." Red didn't.

"Red..." She groaned. "The argument was just this afternoon. Francis is moving awfully fast here."

"I believe Melissa's parting words were...she wasn't sticking around to see him end up behind bars." It was reminded. "She left him, Lizzy."

Liz knew the man was right. But it had only been such a short amount of time. The separation was so new...especially to Melissa. She knew how she would feel in a similar situation.

"I know it seems like he's moving on quickly and maybe he is, but they only dated a couple of days, Lizzy." The man said. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

Liz didn't see it that way, of course.

"At least he's not down in the pits about this breakup. Lia was pretty bad, but...he jumped right back on the saddle."

"Graphically put." She shifted him a scolding look. "Francis is a great little saddle-jumper."

"It took me almost eight months to get him back to normal with that last bitch who got under his skin." The man thought back on the hard times. "He was twenty-five years old and took a vow of celibacy. He should have been fucking anything that moved, instead he was sitting behind his desk 24/7, refusing to do anything else but work."

Liz couldn't picture Francis like that. He was so full of life, playful.

"The kid just shut down. He never smiled...his eyes were dead. It was a shitty time, I can tell you." Red practically snapped. "I don't want him to have to suffer that again."

Liz debated such a change. Francis was always smiling. To think of him not happy... was very sad. Even when he was being serious, you could see the lightness in those blue eyes. A light which said that he knew everything was going to be just fine and there was no need to think differently.

Spooning up the last of the light, airy chocolate mousse, Liz sat back, finally full of the marvelous cuisine. "Oh, my...I feel one hundred percent better."

"Lizzy, if Francis makes a move, you let it play out." Red was not aware he was practically pouting, which made the man ever so attractive to the opposite sex, which...Liz just happened to be.

"Now, you go run us a bath," the man grumbled quietly when he heard the ringing of his phone, "I'll handle whatever that is." He shot the phone an annoyed look, but considering the McSha problem, he had to take the call. "Then we'll enjoy a nice, long soak."

"Yeah, well," Liz grumbled quietly, "that better not be all we do."

The woman hesitated in her steps, glancing at the man expectantly.

"Something wrong?" Red asked.

"You..." Liz frowned, somewhat perplexed, "you didn't swat my butt." She said. "You do that..."

Stifling the urge to smile, Red drew the woman back, placing his mouth to hers.

"By the time I get off that phone, you better be naked and in that tub. You understand me?" He murmured roughly.

"…Yes." Liz whispered airily, lifting her mouth for another kiss.

Kissing the soft pout, Red playfully swatted her round ass. "Go on…"

"Okay..." Sighing happily, Liz turned about, going to do as bid, giving the man an impish wave over her shoulder.

Watching the woman go, Red's mouth quirked at the corner as the woman rubbed at the delicious vibration before disappearing around the corner.

"...Okay." He whispered, his heart happy.