Chapter 3: "It's them or us";
Prompts: Unconventional weapons, "It's us or them."
Please note: In the Works Cited portion of Chapter 1, there are suggested music, etc., to accompany this and other Chapters, meant to enhance your experience of reading. I hope you enjoy them.
Primary Safe-house, Mid-town Manhattan, January 2015
Reese was still in the kitchen when Shaw got back from Finch's room. He glanced at her face. Couldn't tell how things had gone in there – not from her eyes, anyway. Cool, dark pools, like always.
Reese reached over and drained the last of the coffee out of the carafe into her mug.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"What you'd expect," she offered. "He should sleep for a while now. I gave him a shot to help with the pain."
"Good."
She sensed there'd be more coming.
"I'm heading over to the other safe-house. Check on things. See if they need anything for now." Shaw nodded at him.
Everything they'd been working on before had come to a screeching halt with the fire. The man Reese had brought back from overseas was still a mystery. Friend or Foe? Her own natural inclination was to keep him at arm's-length, a Foe, until there was more than a little proof that he wasn't. Pretty sure Reese felt the same.
"I'd go, too, but not with this," she said, tipping her head in the direction of Finch.
And there was still the matter of Root. Seemed like she'd turned a corner, and things were starting to get better. Best not to leave her unattended for long, though, if they could avoid it – and definitely not if Finch was here, alone. Didn't need a repeat of the drama before.
Root had come out of the torture by the Zheng. But with a pretty banged-up brain. Memories wiped. So, when she'd eventually regained consciousness, she hadn't recognized any of them. Played along until she took her shot.
Things could've gone a whole lot worse than they did. So, for the foreseeable future, they'd just have to keep an eye on her.
"I'll send one of them back, so you can get some sleep," in his whisper-voice. Reese seemed to sense her dilemma.
"Nah. They're gonna need to spell each other over there. At least until things get better. Leave 'em there to work it out," she reasoned. "I'll catch some sleep later on."
"I won't be long, then."
Reese drained the last of his coffee and started to get up. He was aware of her eyes on him and made a point of limping over to the wall behind her to grab his crutch. Maybe too little, too late, but he'd give it a try. He turned around and stuck the top of the crutch under his right arm, tapping his way to the security door.
Shaw heard him leave.
Thought about yawning; stretched, instead.
She downed the last of her coffee, then got up and cleared the table. Cleared the counters and the stove after that, and then got the dishwasher going. Turning into a real Suzy Homemaker lately, she thought, and grimaced.
Maybe she'd better go find Root. Too quiet.
Secondary Safe-house, West Side, Manhattan, January 2015
Reese tapped along the hallway, eyes drifting left, right, and inside each of the recessed doorways. Had the feel of a deserted ship to him. A lot of the residents here were snowbirds. That's why they'd picked the place – fewer people nosing around, watching them come and go. Most had already flown off to their warmer places.
Down at the end of the hall, Reese turned in at the last apartment. Mounted next to the door, a small, vintage-looking metal medallion decorated the wall. The apartment number was stamped on a plate at the bottom. Nothing that would've drawn attention to itself; just somebody's idea of a doorway decoration.
Reese reached up and swung the medallion to one side.
A blue-white light glowed from the glass underneath. Reese stepped closer to offer his eye. A moment later, he heard a muffled snap and the sound of humming parts inside the door. He swung the door open and stepped inside. Joey Durban was on his way down the hall to meet him.
They shook hands while Reese was shedding his coat. He fussed with the crutch under his arm, while Joey tossed his coat over the back of a chair for him.
"Still hobblin' around on that leg? How's it doin'?" he asked.
Joey was shorter than Reese, built like a boxer, but with an easy smile. A likeable guy. He'd served with dozens of men just like him – Afghanistan and too many more places to remember. The kinda guy you could count on. And that meant a lot to Reese. A small team like theirs needed dependable people to function.
"Been better," he said, in his whisper-voice. Reese sighted down the hallway. "Where is he?"
"In his room, reading. Likes the books in the library."
Reese tightened. Finch had one whole room in the apartment set up like a library. Maybe the last of his books, now that the Library Office had burned.
"Came to see if you needed anything. Probably gonna be a while."
"We're good for now," he said, starting to smile. Then a frown crossed Joey's face. "How's Finch?"
"Shaw's lookin' after him. She's got him on pain meds right now. Sleeping when he can." Joey nodded and the two of them headed down the hall.
The next room was the library, completely lined with shelves and books, a thick rug on the floor, two leather couches facing one another, and a couple of chairs, besides. Dining room after that, and then the kitchen.
A long hallway with bedrooms on both sides led to another sitting room at the far end of the apartment. There were double doors leading out to a wraparound terrace. It ran the length of the apartment out there, like an "L".
He remembered watching Olawale's face, staring, the first time he'd laid eyes on the place. Like he couldn't believe they'd brought him here, instead of some kind of prison.
Then, when he'd seen the library, he didn't want to leave. Started browsing through the shelves, while Reese looked for Shaw. Smelled the coffee on the way to the kitchen and breathed a silent thanks out to the air. It'd been a long trip in a short time.
Finch had sent him – Zuma Rock – where the message had come from. No idea who he was, and they still didn't have a full picture. Born in some village in Nigeria, he'd been sent to London by a father he never knew. Just a kid then. Went on to college and then dropped out of sight in grad school for a couple of years. Turned up in Nigeria again, but the story was hazy there, too.
Until the message came in. Must've taken some kind of tech genius to get it to Finch that way. He'd told Finch a mutual enemy was closing in on him, and it might already be too late. They were after the software and Finch was his only hope.
Finch said the message had come in from a node that traced back to Five Eyes.
So, who was this guy?
"Good morning, Mistah Reese."
Olawale stood there in front of him. Small, slim, with the same blue shirt buttoned to the top and a thick green sweater over that. Intelligent eyes, dark skin. He looked like an engineer, Reese thought. Bookish, like Finch.
In fact, he had a book clamped under an arm against his side, balancing a teacup in one hand and a plate of toast piled high in the other.
"Just on mah way to the library. When do yah want to begin?"
Reese stared over his head for a moment. Didn't wanna say more than he should.
"Not now," and left it at that.
Olawale slipped past him and headed down the hall to the library. Bear had popped his head up at his voice and then jumped up to greet him. Nearly knocked him back with his shoulder. Reese leaned down and gave him a good rub all over his shoulders and back.
Bear responded with one of his dog-smiles and then followed him further into the kitchen. In the hall at the other end, Harper was on her way to the kitchen, too.
"Hey, Reese."
She glanced around until she saw where Olawale had gone. Out of earshot in the library.
"What's the news? How's Finch?"
Joey must have filled her in on the fire when he got here last night. Shaw had sent him. Didn't want Harper here, alone, with Olawale. Still needed some time to prove herself to Shaw, before they'd trust her on her own. Besides, the two of them made a pretty good team, so it made sense to keep them together.
"Any coffee around?" Reese said. Joey swung around, pointing back to the table.
"Have a seat. I'll get it. Black, right?"
"Yeah, black," he said, hobbling over to one of the chairs. He leaned the crutch against the wall behind him and limped to the chair.
"Just had breakfast. You eat yet?" Joey looked up from pouring the coffee and saw him nod. Harper slid into the chair on the other side of the table.
"So, what's going on, Reese?"
He kept his voice low. "Shaw's takin' care of Finch. Burned his hands in the fire, so she's keepin' him on pain meds for now." Harper stared for a moment, and then shuddered.
"Musta been bad… I can't believe it's gone," she whispered. "We saw it on the news. They said they're looking into it, like some kind of – arson thing." Harper looked up at Reese.
"What happened in there?"
Reese took a deep breath in and let it out, slowly.
"We were there, having a meeting," he said, his eyes staring over her head. "The glass broke, way up high at the top of the wall. These metal balls dropped in and hit the floor. Some kind of projectiles inside. Dozens of them. When the things exploded, they flew all over the room. Everything they touched started to burn." He stopped for a moment, the images rolling in front of his eyes. Then:
"Some kind of chemicals… Finch tried to save his books."
She let him pause for a little while. His eyes had glazed over. Reese looked pale, even for a white guy, she thought. Tired, too. And still draggin' that crutch around with him.
"So, you're lookin' like 'who did it an' ran', yourself." Reese took a minute to process her Brooklyn accent.
"We've all had better days," he said, eyes down at his drink.
She wanted to charge ahead, ask a zillion questions, get to the plan. But it didn't seem like the right time. Maybe not the right place, either. They couldn't be sure what Olawale might be thinking right now.
Harper held herself back.
Until she didn't.
Couldn't help herself. Her eyes flashed at the two of them.
"I know it just happened. It's early. But it's them or us, Reese, and it sure as hell ain't gonna be us!"
