The crisp morning air held the promise of a new day, but Elizabeth Keen felt the weight of the previous night's events bearing down on her. She had left Montreal in a whirl of emotions, a sense of betrayal and apprehension mixing with the ever-present fear that was now a constant companion.
Reddington's machinations, the veiled threats from the Freelancer, and the whispered warnings from Dembe, had left her reeling. She felt as if she were caught in a tangled web, a tapestry of deceit where nothing was as it seemed.
"He was right," she mumbled, staring out the window at the gray skies over the city. Her voice was barely audible, but the words were stark and clear in the silence. "Reddington played me. He used me."
The truth, when it had finally arrived, had been a sucker punch, shattering the illusions she'd held. The more she learned about Reddington, about his world of secrets and lies, about the network of chaos he weaved, the more convinced she became that his "cooperation" with the FBI was anything but.
She picked up the phone, her fingers lingering on the receiver for a moment before she dialed Harold Cooper's number. She needed answers. She needed to know if the Bureau had fallen for Reddington's elaborate charade.
"Cooper," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I need to see you."
Cooper's voice, a calm counterpoint to the growing chaos within her, said, "Lizzie, what's going on? You've barely slept all night. You should go home."
"This isn't about sleep, Cooper, this is about survival," Liz replied. "And this is a matter of utmost urgency."
"Okay, Okay, calm down. Where are you?"
"I'm on my way back to the Bureau. We need to talk about Reddington."
Liz knew her accusations, her suspicions about the depth of Reddington's involvement in the conspiracy that led to Tom's near death, would be met with skepticism. But the facts, she had to trust those, they pointed in only one direction, the direction of Reddington's cold manipulation and cunning control.
She knew Cooper wouldn't accept her allegations without proof. She knew the truth wouldn't be enough, not yet. But if she had learned anything from Reddington, it was that in a game of shadows, the truth was often the most valuable weapon of all.
Liz arrived at the Bureau's headquarters to a flurry of activity. Agents hurried past her, their voices sharp, their faces tense. A sense of urgency permeated the atmosphere. The world was now shifting around her, as though an unseen force was pulling at the fabric of reality, changing the rules of the game as she knew it.
She found Cooper in his office, surrounded by paperwork, a frown etched on his brow. His eyes looked tired, yet determined, the exhaustion not taking away from his sharp gaze.
"What's going on, Lizzie?" he asked, a sense of urgency lacing his usually composed voice.
"The Freelancer, Floriana Campo, Reddington's whole plan… it was a setup," Liz began, her voice trembling slightly, "a diversion. And a warning."
Cooper's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm not sure I follow…"
Liz took a deep breath. She knew she had to be careful, to reveal enough to convince him, yet still not revealing enough to compromise her source, her position within the game.
"He orchestrated the entire event in Montreal," she said, her voice rising a notch. "It wasn't about finding the Freelancer. It was about exposing him."
"But that's impossible," Cooper interrupted, a wave of frustration washing over him. "Reddington is in custody. He has no access to this level of intelligence, he wouldn't be able to…"
"It's not impossible," Liz interjected, her eyes blazing with conviction, "It's very possible, especially if he is in fact, not cooperating, but dictating his own terms, leading this investigation to achieve his own objectives. He never cooperated. He gave us what he wanted to give us when he wanted to give it to us."
"I've never liked you," he had said. Reddington's words from the previous night, laced with his characteristic contempt, reverberated in her mind, adding fuel to her growing suspicion.
Cooper's expression had softened. He listened intently, his mind slowly coming around to the possibility of betrayal.
"He warned us about the shipment of girls. The one we missed. He made us believe he was our informant, when he actually wanted us to… He needed us to... take our attention off of Floriana Campo."
"What about Dembe? And Malik?"
"I don't trust either of them, but they're working for Reddington, in whatever role he has appointed for them. It's all part of his grand plan." Liz took a deep breath, her heart racing as she relayed her experience with Dembe, her own unease with his presence, and the warnings he had imparted.
Cooper remained quiet, processing the information as it filtered into his mind.
"I want to tell you about my dad, about the box I found in our home. He put the gun, the passports there," she said. The fear that had gnawed at her for months, the uncertainty and suspicion that had driven her back to the past to unearth the truth about her father, was beginning to coalesce, building into an undeniable conviction that there was more to her past than she had dared imagine.
"And this is why I've had no peace, Cooper," she added, "The truth of it all, of what he was, and how he could have so easily infiltrated my life, my marriage, my world… I didn't even realize the man's insidious presence was everywhere, until it was too late. And it terrifies me. It terrifies me that Reddington is connected, it terrifies me that Tom's attack, all of it was part of a larger game. It terrifies me, because he knew, I think he knew, he saw what we were both hiding."
Cooper nodded, his expression solemn. "I see the fear in your eyes, Liz. I know this isn't easy, but we have to be vigilant, we have to do our job, and we need to keep one step ahead. He will not stop, this isn't his first betrayal, it won't be his last."
Liz felt her breath quicken. This wasn't just about catching Reddington anymore; this wasn't just about rescuing Tom. It was about unravelling the threads of a web that was so intricately woven, that it threatened to entangle every life that touched it. And she, somehow, was at its very center. She wasn't sure how she had gotten here, but she knew this was the start of a fight that would leave no one untouched.
The fight had begun.