“Morning Finch” John said brusquely, walking into the library to see his boss seated, as per usual, in front of the many computer monitors in the center of the room. Finch barely looked up from the screen as Reese set the glass of tea on the desk and retreated to stand behind him; one hand resting lightly on the back of his boss’ chair.
Tearing his eyes away from the monitors for a moment; Finch turned stiffly, giving his operative a brief smile of thanks for the tea before returning his gaze back to the screens in front of him and saying “Don’t get too comfortable back there, Mr. Reese. We have a new number.”
“Who is it this time, Harold?” Reese asked in that lilting voice he used when he wanted to get under his boss’ skin; even as his body language automatically shifted from that of a casual observer to protector in a manner of seconds. “I would’ve thought that, with Elias in jail, we’d get at least a bit of a respite.”
Finch offered the taller man an upturned eyebrow in response as he got up to limp over to the board that housed pictures of the various “numbers” they received. Gesturing to the newest picture; he continued:
“You already know her, Mr. Reese. The number belongs to Miss Lena Burton; beloved daughter of our dear friend, Carl Elias.” Finch cast a meaningful look at John as he said this, trying to gauge the ex-agent’s reaction to this news. As expected, the older man saw John’s jaw tighten; no doubt due to his recent interaction with the mob boss’ daughter in the aftermath of Elias’ arrest. Harold knew that John had a protective streak a mile wide when it came to women; and it hadn’t been hard for the reclusive billionaire to predict that his employee would try to persuade Lena to use this opportunity of her father being in prison to walk away from the mobster lifestyle for good. That attempt had been unsuccessful, however; so it was no surprise that John was upset by Lena’s newfound predicament.
“Do we have any clue as to why her number is up, Finch? Is she a victim? Or has someone persuaded her to attempt breaking Elias out of prison?” John asked, turning away from the picture of the beautiful, yet misguided young woman to walk back to the desk and set his own drink down.
“No idea” Finch replied, watching John carefully as though afraid he may turn into a loose cannon at any second. It was only two weeks ago that Carter’s son had been kidnapped; but Finch remembered the way that his business partner had gone from zero to unhinged in a manner of seconds upon learning that the Detective’s son was in danger. The same look that had been on John’s face when he learned that Elias had kidnapped the young boy was back again; and Harold found himself wondering if it wouldn’t have been better to keep John in the dark on this one. He couldn’t understand what it was about Lena that had John in such a fit to protect her (after all, she knew full well what her father was capable of, and still she stayed with him). But this wasn’t the first time that John had protected a woman that fit the “damsel in distress” role to a T. Finch’s mind flashed back to Detective Carter, and how she had almost gotten John killed; but he forced himself to quickly divert his mind back to reality. Carter had proven to be quite the valuable asset recently; and he would just have to trust John’s judgment with regard to Lena as well.
“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to tail her until we find out, won’t I?” John responded in that familiar, teasing tone of his; jolting Harold out of his thoughts and back to the reality of the situation before them.
“Just how do you plan to do that, Mr. Reese? She is, however distantly, affiliated with the mob. She’ll know how to remain hidden.” Finch said, turning from the board to eye John with a curious gaze. He had faith in his associate’s skill at hunting people down, of course, but this wasn’t an ordinary civilian by any means.
John turned back for one split second, throwing a half smirk at his employer, before saying “I cloned her phone back when we first met.” Upon seeing Harold’s startled expression, the ex-agent clarified:
“I figured she’d find a way to get herself into a fair amount of trouble being related to a mobster; so I took the liberty of making sure I could track her from the beginning…just in case. I know where she’ll be.”
Harold could only gape after John as the taller man departed; hoping beyond hope that this was not going to turn into yet another case of protecting the wrong person. Unfortunately for the both of them, John tended to stray towards seeing the good in everyone; and though Finch knew that the man he hired was more than capable of dealing with anyone who tried to use that against him, that didn’t stop him from worrying that one day, they might not be so lucky. After all, how many close calls could one person have before their luck ran out?
…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
(around 9pm the same day:)
“Hey honey, how ya doin’ tonight? Feeling a bit better?” the bartender asked the young woman who had just taken a seat at the end of the bar and was now removing her coat.
“Yeah, I’m a bit better today, Tommy, thanks for asking” the woman replied, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder before continuing. “Just a whiskey sour tonight, please.”
“You sure that’ll be it sweetie? You know I’m happy to make you whatever you want on the house.”
The woman offered Tommy a brief smile before replying “Yeah that’s all. Not really in the mood for total drunkenness tonight.”
Tommy handed her the drink and gave her one last, encouraging smile before departing to greet two new customers at the other end of the bar; leaving the dark haired woman alone with her thoughts.
“Well, you’ve really done it now, haven’t you Lena?” the woman asked herself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly; simultaneously swirling the contents of her glass before taking a deep sip. She had just been to visit her father in prison; and had come away with instructions to carry on his “business” for him while he was otherwise indisposed. And what had she done? Had she refused; citing the numerous reasons that she should not get involved in her father’s business with the mob? No. No, she had agreed in a heartbeat even though she knew that she could never in a million years order the execution or kidnapping of another human being; no matter how just the cause may seem.
But she loved her father. No matter what he had done, or was capable of doing in the future; he was her blood. He had raised her. And, for the most part, he had succeeded in keeping her shielded from most of the violence that had been directed at him as a result of his criminal activities. Very few people even knew that Carl Elias had a daughter; which was just the way he had wanted it in order to better protect her.
All of that was gone now. Her father was in jail; and he had given her direct permission to take over running his enterprise, thus effectively drawing her out of the shadows and throwing her into the light. It was a risky move on his part; making it known that there was now leverage that could be used against him. But Lena knew that he only put her at risk because she was the only one he thought he could really trust.
As she took another swig of her drink, she was distracted by an unwelcome guest sidling into the empty seat on her right. The man, known to most of her father’s circle as “Scarface”, leaned in towards her; buffeting her with the scent of his heavy cologne as he said:
“Hiya beautiful. Whatcha doin’ here all alone?”
Lena sidled as far as she could towards the edge of her seat before she replied “Just getting a quick drink before calling it a night. How’d they let you in here, anyway? I thought you were banned from most of the bars on this side of town.”
“Oh Lena; I have my ways” he said with a leer as he looped an arm out around her waist, dragging her back towards him. “What’s got you calling it a night so soon, sweet-cheeks? You used to be able to party the night away.”
“Oh, I don’t know; maybe it’s the fact that I don’t want to spend the night with a guy like you when I could be drinking wine in my own place and watching reruns of Days of Our Lives” she replied, smirking at him as she turned to accept the unbidden refill on her drink from the new woman standing behind the bar. Lena barely spent time on wondering where Tommy had disappeared to, before she downed yet another large gulp of the drink and started back in on “Scarface”; getting a little thrill over how he backed away from her and removed his hand from around her waist as she continued in a darker tone:
“Or maybe, it’s because my father is in prison, and you sit here with the audacity to ask me to party with you. I mean, really? Did you think that would work, or are you just as dumb as you look?”
Before “Scarface” could retort, Tommy reappeared; wearing an expression that was as stormy as Lena had ever seen it as he looked at the man harassing his favorite customer.
“Need me to take care of this for ya honey?” he asked her, cracking his knuckles in a very obvious way so as to leave no misgivings over what would happen if Lena were bothered in any way.
“No that won’t be necessary Tommy; he was just leaving” Lena replied, smiling at the bartender before leveling a serious, “no nonsense” gaze at Scarface as she continued “weren’t you, darling?”
Her father’s right hand man threw a glare Tommy’s way before getting up to leave.
“Just call me if you change your mind” he said, smirking over his shoulder as he left the bar.
Lena rolled her eyes at his retreating back before turning back to Tommy and saying “Thanks for that. He’s always been after me; but since dad’s been in jail it’s been noticeably…worse.”
“My pleasure” Tommy replied, giving her a bright smile before moving off yet again to greet new customers and leaving Lena, once again, alone with her thoughts.
Sighing, she downed the rest of her drink; noticing that she felt a bit dizzier than she usually did after only two drinks. She stood up to leave, wanting to get home before her unusual reaction to the drink rendered her incapable of navigating the roads safely; but was forced to sit back down as an overwhelming wave of dizziness set the room spinning around her. Shaking her head to clear the fog, she gripped the edge of the bar; forcing herself to stand and taking a deep breath to fight off the panic she felt at being so unsteady. It wasn’t like her to not hold her own after only a few drinks, and the sensation of being almost ready to drop over onto the floor was frightening to say the least. Pulling herself together and praying that the night air would clear off whatever this was; she began heading over to the door, taking care to keep her eyes firmly planted on the floor ahead of her feet.
Lena was so focused on maintaining her upright position and not colliding into anyone or anything else as she left the bar; that she didn’t notice the tall man in the suit who had stood up to follow her at a distance as she exited the building and stepped into the cool darkness of the night.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
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