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Reese waited until the young woman had entered the elevator before he left his hiding place, a utility room three doors down the hallway. All they'd been able to find out about their newest number was that she arrived in town two months ago and had been staying in a nice but unremarkable apartment building. No warrants, no debts, no record.
"I'm in," Reese said quietly, closing the door behind him. Alice Silver's apartment was boringly normal. Old, but clean and well-maintained furniture. A closet full of clothes that ranged from comfortable work-out clothes to club gear. A small kitchenette stocked with the essentials and a drawer full of take-out menus from restaurants in the area.
"I, on the other hand," Finch said in his ear, "am not. While carefully laid and appropriately random, it is rather clear to me that our young lady's digital footprint in this world has been carefully constructed rather than it grew on its own. Alice Silver is a fabricated identity."
"Hmm," Reese said, checking the closet for a hidden safe. "Witness protection?"
"Possible, but unlikely," Finch replied. "If she is in the WitSec program, she is not in their database."
"Not official," Reese mused. "So she disappeared on her own."
Finch hummed. "It appears Miss Silver is on the run from someone. Abusive husband or boyfriend, perhaps another undesirable situation at home – could be her father. Since her identity is fake, there is no reason to assume that she is indeed 21 years of age. She could be younger."
Reese gave up his search for a safe and left the closet, turning towards the bathroom. "Well, she--"
"--is right here and wondering what the hell you're doing in her closet," a new voice joined their conversation.
"Mr. Reese!" Finch said in alarm. "Is that--"
"Miss Silver," Reese said calmly, both to confirm Finch's guess and to project authority he didn't actually have towards the young woman. He turned around, glad that he'd been moving slowly when he came face to face with a small crossbow pointed at his chest. "Please forgive my somewhat unusual method of making your acquaintance."
Alice snorted. "A thief with manners! Well, in that case, perhaps you'd like to take a seat while we wait for the police." She used her crossbow as a subtle pointer, never letting the tip of the bolt stray too far from his heart.
Reese obediently sat down and watched as Alice called 911 on her phone. Through his earpiece he could listen to both sides of the conversation as Finch pretended to be an emergency call operator.
"Mr. Reese," he said once the call with Alice was over, "Miss Silver sent a coded text message after she hung up. It looks as though the recipient is in Montana, but we have to assume it was a call to arrange for local assistance. And she will get suspicious when no police officers arrive."
"Bringing the police into this is probably not a good idea," Reese said. He kept his hands on his knees – no need to make her nervous – but leaned forward a little. "You've gone to a lot of trouble to create a new identity. Calling the cops could just make it worse."
"Yes," Alice agreed. "For you. They generally don't like it when someone breaks into someone else's place."
"You're in danger, Alice--"
Alice snorted, but the hand holding the crossbow never shook.
She knew, then. A runaway seemed more and more likely. Up close Reese could tell that her listed age had to be a lie - Alice Silver wasn't even twenty yet. To see someone so young be so guarded but confident against an unknown intruder made Reese grit his teeth. What kind of life had she had, to make her so familiar with weapons and danger?
Not a good one, Reese decided bitterly. He took a calming breath and managed to keep his emotions out of his voice, instead projecting sincerity and a calm authority he didn't truly feel. "I can help you."
"You don't even know what's going on," she said, sounding tired all of a sudden.
"I know that you're in danger," Reese said, "and I help people. If you tell me who's threatening you--"
"Nobody," Alice interrupted, "is threatening me."
"I have information that you're in danger. Immediate danger," he said seriously, trying to impress the seriousness of the situation on her. The longer he looked at her, the more Alice Silver looked like a teenager rather than an adult. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. That she'd been hurt was obvious. Maybe he could play the fatherly card to gain her trust? "But I can't help you if you don't tell me anything. Please, I just want to keep you safe."
"I can take care of myself," Alice said, somewhat ruefully. She was smiling, but it had a bitter edge to it.
"Doesn't mean you should have to," Reese said.
"Right," Alice said. "Here's the thing though. You broke into my place, you don't know a damn thing about me or my situation and you expect me to a) believe you and b) trust you." She let it sink in for a second and then added, "you didn't actually expect that to work, did you?"
Reese shrugged. "You'd be surprised."
"Sorry to disappoint," she said, not sounding very sorry. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the TV, glowing dimly in the half-lit room. "Looks like the cops got lost on the way," she said, shooting him a knowing look. "All right then, if that's how it's going to be, then I'd like you to leave now."
"You're in--"
"Danger, yes." Alice nodded down the hall. "You first." She raised an eyebrow. "Since you've had a chance to get a feel for the layout of my suit, I assume you can find the way back to the door."
Reese went with Plan G. It was the one that was the least likely to result in him getting shot and it would minimize damage to Alice and the apartment. The apartment consisted of a sitting room with a kitchenette, a bedroom and a bathroom. A small hallway connected all three rooms with the front door. The doorway was the ideal place to execute Plan G.
As Reese stepped through the half-open sitting room door into the hallway, the door partly obscured Alice's vision and thus her aim. With a quick turn, Reese pushed back and grabbed the girl's wrist, pointing the crossbow towards the floor.
Reese had expected Alice to have some martial arts training. Anybody handled a deadly weapon with so much casual ease obviously had much experience with it. Considering the weapon was more unusual than a handgun or a knife, Alice must have put in some effort to be so confident in handling it. Training like that, coupled with her current situation and her ability to keep her cool when faced with an intruder, had Reese expecting a kick or a punch and an attempt to reclaim her weapon and the upper hand.
Alice surprised him. Instead of pulling away and fighting the hold he had on her wrist, Alice just dropped the weapon and used the surroundings in a way he would have done. The narrow hallway didn't give them much room to maneuver, but it provided a lot of surface areas that could be used as crude but effective weapons. Alice didn't make an attempt to free her wrist. Instead, she quickly turned in his grasp until she was standing with her back towards him. Using her free arm for balance, she jumped up and kicked against the wall. The kick sent her back into Reese and made Reese collide painfully with the wall.
The sound of splintering wood and breaking glass clued him in that they most likely broke a picture frame. A hot, slicing pain in his left shoulder blade told him he would have to stop for bandages on the way home. And possibly some tweezers so that Finch could get any stuck glass shards out of the wound.
Reese was tempted to let his training take over, but he didn't actually want to hurt Alice seriously. He blocked out Finch's frantic voice in his ear and the pain in his shoulder. He dug his thumb into Alice's wrist and tightened his grip, feeling the bones crunch uncomfortably under the pressure. At the same time, he tried to grab her other wrist.
Alice used her elbow, jabbing him in the side. She twisted under her own arm, the one he was holding, and trapped both their arms between their bodies.
Reese was about to shake her off when he felt the tip of a knife at his throat.
Where had she even--
"Let go of my wrist," Alice said, any traces of humor gone from her voice. Her eyes were dark and dangerous looking, and she turned the blade just far enough that the tip dug into the skin of his neck, drawing a small bead of blood next to his Adam's apple. "Now."
Reese released her wrist. "I really just want to help you. I'm not--"
"You can't help me," Alice said. "Nobody can." She stepped back and wiped her knife back. "I'm already damned," she muttered, like it wasn't meant for his ears.
Reese was about to suggest a truce when Alice narrowed her eyes at him. "Your friend, the one who's been talking to you," she said, gesturing to his ear. "The one who probably pretended he was the 911 guy when I called them? He's your partner? Your boss?"
Reese gave her a sheepish shrug.
"Tell him to forget that you two ever heard of me." She used her knife to point at the door and Reese took a moment to admire the shining blade. Apart from having had it at his throat, it was a beautiful weapon.
"Now get out or I'll scream," she said, smirking a little. "The guy on the left is a retired cop and the couple across the hall are two firefighters. They're all home right now and the walls are thin enough."
"I'll leave," Reese said. He would, of course, be waiting outside, ready to tail Alice should she leave the building again.
#
Thirty-six hours later, after Alice had given him the slip and he'd spent the night trying to track her down, Reese stopped by the library in the morning and Finch wordlessly pointed at his monitor. The pinched expression on his face let Reese know it wouldn't be a welcome sight.
The monitor showed grainy surveillance footage of an office building. Between rows of desks, a lifeless body lay on the floor, a pool of dark liquid surrounding him. In the background, slipping into the staircase, was Alice Silver.
Reese sighed.
"It seems that we were wrong about Miss Silver," Finch said.
"Looks like," Reese said. He wouldn't have thought she was a killer. But then again, he'd been wrong before.
"There is no physical evidence and the police will be hard-pressed to find Miss Silver with only a low quality security image to work with, I believe," Finch said. "I ran a search earlier; her apartment is empty and she seems to have left town."
Reese sighed and plucked Alice Silver's picture from the glass board. Finch took the picture and added to the slim folder that held those numbers that they had failed one way or another. Perhaps at some point they would come across Alice Silver again. Perhaps she'd be arrested in Arizona or Canada or Singapore. If she was, Finch would get pinged and they could move her picture into the solved pile. Until then, there were other numbers.