Chapter 6: "You ah not him"; trust - or force;
Prompts: Trust issues;
Primary Safe-house, Mid-town, January 2015
Sorting through the items in his bag had brought Reese face to face with some of the details from his trip. They knew how tough it was likely to be, even before he'd left the safe-house that evening, flying on Finch's private jet.
A long way to go for this mission. And little to go on. Their target had sent a video file attached to his message, but never appeared, himself. No face. No name. Only a series of clues for Finch to solve.
He claimed Finch knew who he was, but had never met him before, that he'd been targeted by a "common foe," and that he was running out of time to evade capture.
Finch had already traced Greer to Dakar in Senegal. Days later, the Machine had found him again, heading for Nigeria on a chartered flight. Knowing that, the identity of their "common foe" seemed clear.
The technical skill to reach Finch and the Machine through a Five Eyes protocol meant that if the Nigerian were to fall into the hands of Greer and his assets, he could be forced to cooperate – potentially breaking the grip that Finch and his Machine had on Samaritan.
Greer's system was gravely wounded, but not dead. And it appeared that their strategy had shifted from finding Finch to capturing this new player. Greer had gone all the way to Nigeria to find him. So, Finch and the Team couldn't take the chance of losing the mystery man. They had to act, and fast.
Finch showed him the location where the message was sent. Coordinates put it squarely over the site of a giant outcropping of rock, Zuma Rock, near the capital, Abuja. Reese had never been there in any of his previous deployments, so he'd have to depend on researching the location to know where to begin.
The rock rose straight up out of the scrub and trees in the landscape; half a mile high and nearly two miles around, with vertical walls. Giant. And with one other distinguishing feature: on one of its sides, a human face.
Finding one man in the middle of a Rock that size should have been daunting, especially on short notice like this. No time for reconnaissance to narrow down the location.
Reese had gone to the base of the Rock, only to find what looked like a shuttle run lifting a box off a cliff halfway up the side of the Rock. If there were soldiers already there, inside, then they'd found his hide-out.
Reese waited for the soldiers to leave, marked their exit from the Rock, and re-traced their steps. Easier said.
His climb to the hide-out went through a tunnel barely large enough for Reese to crawl through. Twelve hundred feet up, on hands and knees – when he wasn't crawling on his belly.
Without a chopper to drop him on that ledge and pick him off again, the tunnel was the only way in.
Deserted when he got there. The soldiers had emptied the place. Boxed the entire computer system and shoved it across the cave to the ledge outside. Airlifted the box with that military chopper he'd seen, to their base a few miles away.
At night, with the last of their signal fires burning, he'd seen their camp from high in Zuma Rock. The soldiers must have taken him to that same camp. No way to know without going there, too. Easier said…
By dawn, he'd searched the cave, pulled the items left behind, found their camp, infiltrated, and freed their prisoner. When Finch's jet rolled, soon after that, they'd watched sunrise over the top of Zuma Rock.
Greer couldn't have been too happy watching his prisoner sprung from the camp. Or watching Reese burn the truck with Olawale's computer inside. Another giant loss for Greer.
Now, all that remained were the backup disks, and Olawale, himself.
Airspace over the Atlantic, a few days earlier (From P2)
At last, the two men sat facing one another. Reese observed while Olawale swirled tea at the bottom of his teacup – his attention seemed to be elsewhere. Slender, small build; slow, deliberate movements; and dark, pensive eyes. He hid his thoughts well, Reese noticed. Tough to read what was going on inside.
They knew little about him, according to Finch, and yet this man had been capable of reaching out directly to Finch with his cryptic message. He'd asked for their help and, given his apparent skills, Finch had had little choice but to send Reese to Zuma Rock to find him.
Greer got there first, but Reese followed his trail and found clues left behind. A lucky break high up in Zuma Rock revealed the camp where they'd taken him, and the raid on the camp had freed Olawale.
Now, they were about to see if it had all been worth the trouble. Reese would apply some pressure and see where it led.
"How is your knee faring, Mistah Reese?" Olawale began. Reese eyed him, no emotion in his face.
"It works," he said in his whisper-voice. "And your ribs?"
"Sore as the devil," Olawale frowned, looking back to his teacup.
"I'm afraid I am not very brave, Mistah Reese. Not like you. When I was captured, I didn't know if I would live or die. I prayed mah message was received and someone would come."
Reese sipped his coffee, watching him over the rim of his cup. He didn't respond.
The conversation lagged – almost as soon as it had begun. Neither one seemed to feel the urge to fill the silence. Reese watched him stare into his teacup, swirling the contents. It seemed more like he was plotting something than feeling any pressure to speak, and in a little while Olawale raised his eyes to Reese. In a soft voice:
"Of course, I want to thank you fah what you did. I am grateful. And I'm sure you have questions fah me now." Reese watched him over the rim of his cup and said nothing; he could sense the "but" that was coming.
In a firm, soft voice: "I will need certain assurances, Mistah Reese. Before we proceed with the questioning."
Reese leaned forward in his seat, lowering his cup to the table. With steady blue eyes:
"You came to us, remember?" Even the whisper couldn't hide the intent.
Olawale looked directly into his eyes.
"I contacted one man. You ah not him," he said, softly. "I'm sorry. I must wait to meet with Harold Finch."
Ah, Reese thought, Olawale was stalling because he didn't know whether he could trust him or not. Maybe the whole escape had been staged somehow – and Olawale was really on his way to more of Greer's interrogation in another country.
Reese glanced at his watch. Still too early to call Finch. In his whisper-voice:
"It goes both ways," he said. "I don't know you, either." Reese threw the passport he'd found in the cave onto the table between them: clearly a different name under Olawale's picture.
"I can explain," he said, and his face contorted. But then he shook his head and didn't speak.
Slowly, Reese said to him, "Looks to me like we're gonna have to trust one another." He spread his hands out over the top of the table covered with the finds from the cave. "Because there's nothing here to make him wanna meet with you. He's a very private person."
Olawale's eyes flashed.
"He must! Greer and his people ah not going to stop!" Olawale had started to raise his fist for emphasis but clutched at his ribs instead. Reese could see the fire in his eyes. He leaned forward again and waited for Olawale to meet his eyes.
In his whisper voice, blue eyes steady: "Common foe. Isn't that what you called him?"
Olawale stared at him for a moment, and his face contorted with the memory. Reese could see the struggle going on behind those eyes. Should he trust Reese or not? He turned away to the oval window and watched the wing flexing in the air out there.
Far below, the sun sparkled off wave tops, endless ocean stretching as far as he could see. Olawale shrugged and seemed to make his decision then. He nodded his head and turned back to Reese. In his soft voice:
"Alright, Mistah Reese. Where do we begin?"
trust - or force
"I was born in Nigeria – in a small village distant from the capital, Abuja," he said. Reese noticed the change in his eyes, recalling that time in his life. He stayed silent and waited for Olawale to go on with his story.
"I know little of how mah parents met. Mah father nevah married mah mothah, until much later, when she knew she was sick. He brought us to the City when I was a boy of ten. In months it was clear she was dying and days before, he married hah."
Olawale paused for a moment and Reese watched for a reaction over the rim of his cup. Little to see. If the memory was difficult, there was no outward sign.
"I suppose having a precocious ten-year old around must have been – inconvenient – in mah father's line of work. He nevah tried to excuse it – perhaps the one thing he was honest about. He made his living deceiving and stealing from othahs. He could have chosen anothah way, but he always said he did what he excelled in, and loved the life it gave him."
Olawale paused again and turned his eyes to Reese. No emotion, no judgment there, either; none expected. He went on.
"We spent some time togethah early on. We started to get to know one anothah. He even showed me the cave in Zuma Rock, told me stories of hiding there when things got too difficult fah him. It seemed exciting to me then. I told him I wanted to be just like him."
Olawale stopped again and Reese saw his eyes focus off in the distance. He smiled a wry smile.
"Shortly aftah, I found myself installed in boarding school in London – with a new name, a new life, and no past. The best life money could buy," he said.
Olawale reached over to the passport on the table and lifted it up, wagging it in the air between them. Reese nodded and he lowered it to the table.
For a long moment, Olawale took in the rest of the finds Reese had placed on the tabletop, as if to remind himself of his own history.
He noticed something important missing, and it occurred to him that he didn't know whether this would be good news or bad in this situation.
If he'd guessed wrongly, and Reese hadn't been sent by Harold Finch, then keeping certain things to himself could give him a bargaining chip when the truth revealed itself.
Olawale leaned back in the passenger seat. Perhaps he'd said enough for now and raised his teacup to his lips. His tea had gone cold.
Primary Safe-house, Mid-town, January 2015
Shaw showed up at Finch's doorway a few hours later. Enough sleep under her belt by then to get her through the night with Finch.
"He's been sleeping while I've been here," Reese said.
She walked past him and leaned down to take a look at the bandages.
"Drainage from the burns, but nothing worse than I'd expect," she said. "I'll change them tomorrow. Main thing now is to avoid infection and manage his pain."
Reese stared at Finch's face. Could see some reaction. Maybe he could hear them talking.
He tapped Shaw and tipped his head toward Finch. She nodded. Better not to say too much in here.
Later, when they were back in the kitchen, Reese offered to split the night with her, so she wouldn't have to get up every hour or two to check on Finch. She wasn't sure it was a good idea.
"Planned to camp out on his chair in his room. Might be a bad night for him tonight," she told him. "Gonna get him up to eat something and walk him around a little. See how he does. Besides, you've got the debrief with Olawale tomorrow."
Reese handed her a mug.
"Yeah. He seemed pretty chatty today, when I was there. Can't tell what he's thinking, though – with all this goin' on. He sees us moving people around, whispering. Probably senses something's changed. Last time, he said he wasn't gonna say anything more until he could talk to Finch."
"So, what did you tell him?"
"Not to flatter himself – that Finch might not wanna bother with him and his story." Shaw glanced at his face. Joking, of course. Then serious, again.
She'd seen this look in his eyes before.
Settled. Knew what he wanted, and saw it mapped-out in his head now. Hard to knock him off his track, like this. It'd be better for Olawale if he cooperated. He wouldn't wanna be on the wrong side of Reese, or her, either.
It all came down to trust – or force. Either way, they'd get what they needed out of him.
The two worked out a schedule to divide the night. They'd both get a little sleep, and handle it if things were rough for Finch through the night.
Reese took a sip and thought of something. "What's Root been up to?"
"On her computer all day. Didn't say what she was doing. Better keep an eye on her, too."