"Keen, Keen, wake up. We've gotta get out of here," someone whispers to me while tapping my shoulder. A sharp pain surges through my leg and I flinch. My eyes flutter open. It's Ressler. I look around. We're in a grungy old prison cell in God knows where. There's a bloody T-shirt wrapped around a tear my pants covering what feels like a puncture wound. "Where are we?" I whisper grogily. "We were on a highway on the way out of Islamabad the last time I got to see. They put a sack over my head right after we passed a security checkpoint." He explains. "I don't remember anything passed the Sheltie terrorists busting into my hotel room and failing to fight all of them off. What happened after that?" I ask. "I'll tell you when we get out of here." He answers impatiently.
He seems to be looking around for something to help us escape. The wound in my leg sends surges of pain through my body. I don't remember being stabbed in the leg. Ressler turns to me and points out something that's outside the window. I try to stand up, but the pain in my leg refuses to let me. "Don't try to stand up. It's pretty bad. Not to freak you out or anything." He says. I give him a glare that means shut up. He looks out the window again and starts making gestures. I start to stand up again, hut remember that I can't. He walks back over to me.
"There's someone out there. They don't look like they're terrorists or FBI or CIA personnel. They were gesturing for me to break the window. We're two stories up, but there's someone under the window, so I feel like they want us to fall out," he whispers. "Once we break the glass we've only got a few seconds to get out and we don't know if these people outside are our friends or enemies." I whisper back. "I know, but what other option do we have. These guys are merciless. They dragged some other prisoner out for what is probably forceful interrogation. It's only a matter of time before that happens to us." He whispers.
He stands up and goes back to the window and starts gesturing again. He comes back over to me and helps me stand up. He doesn't allow me to try and walk. He usually isn't this protective or cautious with injuries, since this happens to both of us probably once every month or so. Something must be really bad for him to be doing this. He grabs the bar that he got off the chair and bashes the window with it. The alarm goes off. He immediately picks me back up and helps me slide off of the windowsill. I fall into someone's arms and they start running. I hear a thud and I can tell that Ressler made it down.
They continue to run until we reach a hill. One of our rescuers moves a camouflaged piece of carpet and opens a trapdoor. I'm dropped inside. I hit something soft and roll aside so that others can get in. I hear three more people hit the mat and the door slamming shut with locks clicking. I hear shouting in what I imagine is Arabic and finally something I understand, "Akira, these are the Americans from the FBI taken captive. They're hurt and need medical attention." The man who opened the trap door says. I sit up and get a chance to look around.
We're in a small dimly lit room below the trap door in what I think is a cave. The people shouting in Arabic are the armed guards and our rescuers. The door to what I think is another room opens and the person who's name is Akira goes inside. The yelling stops finally. I look to Ressler. He shrugs his shoulders. He's just as confused as I am. "Come," one of the guards says with a thick accent. I look to where the man who carried me in was standing, but he must have already gone in. Ressler helps me up and allows me to lean on him. The guards lead us into a bunker type area.
There's people, computers, an it looks as if it's an outpost for an organization. A man ushers to us two cots in the corner with medical supplies around it and tow doctors. Ressler sets me down on one before sitting down on the other. A woman comes to shake my hand. I accept. "I'm Doctor Herschel of the United nations. Can I take a look at your leg?" She asks. I nod and look to Ressler who's eyes light up after heating United nations. If these people are who they say they are, then we're safe for now. She takes the shirt off of my leg and the pain worsens. She starts cleaning it and I take a better look around.
This looks like it's top of the line for a bunker in the middle of the desert. I look to Ressler. The only injury he looks to have sustained in this escapade was a nasty laceration. Someone who looks to be a figure of authority walks over to us. "Welcome to Double E bunker. I'm sorry that you two have become the largest victims of the Sheltie terrorists. I've been informed by the embassy that two American agents had been taken hostage during an operation to take down a criminal. I'm assuming that would be you two?" He asks. We both nod. "Thank you for rescuing us. Is there any chance that we could call the FBI base to let them know that we're safe?" Ressler asks.
"They've already been told. We just sent for an embassy helicopter to retrieve you, but you are free to make a telephone call anyways." He says. "Thank you," I say. The doctor allows Ressler to get up and go to the phone. When I follow suit, I'm denied the permission to get up. "You shouldn't be walking on that. There's nothing we can do for it right now, but you'll be perfect in about two days besides the cut." She explains. I nod. Ressler is talking on the phone. It's a phone with a cord, so be can't come over to me. He talks for a few more minutes and then puts down the phone. He walks back over to me.
"The helicopter is here Keen," he answers with the permanent look of seriousness on his face. He helps me stand up. I thank the doctor and the guards open the door to the entrance room for us. A guard unlocks the trap door and gets up. Ressler boosts me up and the guard helps me out they rush us to the helicopter since the terrorists have spotted us. I see the trap door slam shut. They didn't see that it was there. The helicopter door slams shut and we take off.
"Can you tell me what happened now?" I ask him. "Not yet. Wait til we're in America. The good news is that now that the FBI knows about the stronghold they can take it down." He says. "So it's only a matter of time before the blacklister is dead?" I ask. He nods. I sigh in relief. We fly over the desert. Eventually, I see the city approaching. We veer right and touch down on an air strip. "Why aren't we at the airport?" I ask the pilot. "The FBI informed us to bring you here and that there was a jet waiting for you." He answers. There's only one explanation for this. It's confirmed when I see the black hat and the sunglasses waving at us from outside. Reddington. He opens the door. "We'll talk once we're in the jet," he answers, saving the annoyance of a lecture for later. Dembe helps me out of the helicopter and into the jet. We sit down in the comfortable seats and the plane takes off.
"Can't stay out of trouble can you?" Red asks us as he takes off his sunglasses. Ressler shakes his head. He rarely agrees with Red, but this is definitely common ground for all three of us.
"Lizzy, stay out if trouble please," Red says. He already knows that it's an impossible request. We get into the government car and we drive into the city. Another normal week at the job. I go into my office and collapse into the chair. Ressler knocks on the door. He can finally answer my questions.
