Raymond Reddington always seemed to be one step ahead. That's what Donald Ressler hated most about it. It didn't matter where he went, the bastard always seemed to have moved one town over. That's not how it was going to be this time. He was finally going to catch him.
Why Reddington was in a small town in Missouri, Ressler wasn't quiet sure. All he knew was that he had gotten a tip that he was meeting someone. It could have been a crime boss or it could have been a drug dealer. Hell, it could have just been a mistress of his.
Either way, Ressler was currently driving around Missouri in the middle of July. Even with the air conditioner blowing straight on his face, Ressler felt the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He drove on a bridge over a river. He glanced down at the murky water below and shuddered. Was water meant to be that shade of brown?
He continued on his way. With any luck he could break up the meeting and corner Reddington. Despite the intense heat, he was starting to lose daylight. So, he decided to hurry a little. It seemed like an eternity before he found where he was going.
He parked a little ways down from the building before coming back to it. It was an old bowling alley that looked like it had been out of use for the past ten years. He moved silently around the back making sure to stay low to the ground.
"How can you ask such a ridiculous price? Those aren't even worth a fourth of what your asking for." Complained a man. Donald glanced around the corner and saw that Reddington was the one who was talking. He was standing with another man in front of some crates. He didn't know what was in them but from the odd smell in the air, he didn't think that he wanted to know.
"You aren't going to find another shipment of this for the rest of the year. If you intend to get in on it, you better act now." Said the other man who had an accent that sounded like the people around this area. "Besides, if you sell it correctly, you'll triple your money."
"Oh? How's that? Half of this garbage is rotten."
"That still leaves you doubling your money."
"...You're not good with numbers, are you?" Red asked. Donald glanced around to see if there were any bodyguards around. There was no one in sight. Reddington must have assumed that no one would know he was here or try to follow him. Donald raised his pistol before stepping out.
"Freeze! Hands in the air!" Ressler yelled causing both of the men's gazes to shoot to him. Reddington seemed to analyze his situation. He had no way to run, no way to hide, and no way to kill Ressler before he could kill him. He raised his hands above his head while the other criminal eyed him.
The other man cut out running. Reddington flinched like he had been about to run the other way but stopped when Ressler pulled back the hammer on his pistol. He could faintly see Reddington clenching and unclenching his jaw. Finally, he had the bastard.
"Most cops try to go after the drug dealer." Reddington stated. His voice sounded as if he were talking to an old friend. He was so calm that it was almost unnerving.. Ressler moved in closer being cautious in case the man had a hidden weapon.
"Not when the other one is Raymond Reddington," Donald replied causing Reddington to roll his eyes.
"I suppose I should be flattered."
"Actually, I suppose you should turn around." Donald stated. Reddington's face gave a small tick as he glared at the agent. He turned around. He wasn't going to go through all this only to be shot by some cop who wanted to make a name for himself. Ressler ran his hand over Raymond's pockets and up and down his pants legs.
"How lovely, I get arrested and felt up in the same afternoon." Raymond said sarcastically.
"Are you always a smart ass?"
"You should be thrilled to hear my wit. Most are shot before they get the chance." Reddington replied. Donald grabbed his raised arms before he pulled them down in front of him and handcuffed him. He grabbed the chain and dragged him along.
The sun had set, and Ressler swore it had dropped twenty degrees. He more or less shoved Reddington into the backseat of his car. He got into the front and cranked the car. He drove off towards the way he came. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he saw that Reddington was silently plotting his escape.
An old pick up truck followed close behind them giving Raymond a bad feeling. It pulled up close beside them. He looked and saw the dealer raising a pistol. He gasped and ducked. The window shattered next to him causing Donald to jump. He pulled back on the wheel when the truck crashed into them.
The dealer smashed into them again. Ressler swore loudly and hit the gas. He got past the truck for a moment but not long enough. The truck pressed against the car threatening to push it off of the road.
"Bridge! Bridge!" Reddington yelled from the backseat. Donald looked forward and saw the bridge that he had crossed earlier. They were headed straight for the railing. If he hit it, they would both die. He couldn't slow down fast enough, and he couldn't get this psycho off of him. He only had one choice.
Ressler jerked the steering wheel to the side causing the car turn to the side. The car turned along side the bank. For a split second, Ressler thought they were fine, but that hope was dashed when the car started turning over. It tumbled down the hill causing the two men to be bashed into the sides.
Finally, it fell into the murky water below. Water rushed in on top of them. They couldn't see anything. All they could do was try to get out of the sinking wreck before they were trapped. Donald opened his door and started swimming to the surface. His lungs burned for air, and he had no idea how far up he had to go. He broke the surface and huffed for oxygen.
Looking around, he saw that Reddington had bobbed to the surface but wasn't moving. He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him over. He was still breathing but had a nasty cut across his forehead. It took him a moment to realize that they were moving. The current was pulling them along the river.
He tried to haul the man to the bank but found that the water was pulling them too fast for him to make any headway. He was exhausted and couldn't keep going. His vision blurred and faded. Maybe, he'd taken one too many hits to the head on the way down.
