Climbing unsteadily to their feet in the snow, Ressler and Liz drew back from the edge of the hole at arms length from each other, subconsciously spreading their weight. Each of them acutely aware of the ground under their feet now, they stepped carefully as their eyes darted to each other then back to the ground, dreading it giving way beneath them again.
"Just walk slowly back…I think we're fine… But let's not do that again, alright?" he told her, shivering as they stepped back.
Once clear of the opening and feeling more confident they were on solid ground again, they followed their footsteps back to the building as they walked together. The wind was picking up, tugging at their clothing and cutting right through their very cores as the wind chill dropped.
"God, I'm so cold…" she shivered, as every bone in her body ached.
"I know, me too... We'll get a fire going soon," he encouraged her, kicking up snow as they made their way to the building. As Liz opened the door, she remembered the sleds with the blankets and supplies.
"Leave them for now. A fire is what we need," he told her, shivering as they stepped into the building and quickly shutting the door behind them. It was no warmer inside than out, but in welcome relief, being out of the wind made it seem so. Under his direction as he stood behind her, Liz began to collect kindling for the fire while using her phone light to guide her. Loaded down with an armful of small sticks, she turned back to the steel plate in the middle of the room, only to find him staring at her in horror.
"What?" she asked him, meeting his wide open eyes.
"The matches. I can't find them!"
"Oh God…" she whispered, dropping the kindling onto the steel plate and stepping toward him.
Frantically searching through every pocket again and ignoring the screaming in his shoulders, he lit up his own phone and began to look around where they'd sat on the ground the night before. There were no matches anywhere.
"When did you have them last?!" she cried, as she joined him in his searching of the room.
He searched his memory. "Oh my God…" he said, realizing it was before his frantic run outside and subsequent falling down in the snow in the dark the previous night. "They must have fallen out of my pocket outside last night…"
They could be anywhere out there, buried in the snow. As the image of the small book of matches came to his mind he was keenly aware that even if they found them they'd be ruined after sitting in the wet snow.
"Damn it!" he cursed, looking up at the ceiling and gritting his teeth. "Liz, I'm sorry."
"It's okay…it couldn't be helped…"
They needed warmth of any kind and standing together, their eyes lit up as they both thought the same thing, "The sled!" It was their only chance now, with its cargo of blankets. But to reach it they'd have to make their way outside again and half way down the quarry.
"Can you make it out there?" she asked him, looking at him hunching over slightly in pain now.
"I'll make it," he told her, gritting his teeth and standing upright.
There was no way she was convinced. "Here…" she told him, struggling to reach into her pocket before handing him the sheet with the last three pain pills on it. "You need to take pills, Ress, so take them…"
"I'll make it," he told her, stubbornly refusing to take the sheet of pills from her as he hunched forward again.
"Donald Ressler."
He stood upright and met her eyes.
"If you don't take a couple of pills here, I will ram them down your throat myself. I cannot get that sled by myself. It's going to take both of us, and you won't make it out there without taking more pills. I do not need your stubborn male bullshit right now." And standing before him like a tiny sergeant major, she read him the riot act.
He stood still, regarding her silently. And suddenly he broke into a grin, looked away briefly and then back at her. "Yes, ma'am." And taking the two pills she was demanding he take, he swigged them down without further complaint.
"That's better," she relented, "Do you need to wait for them to kick in?" she asked him, clapping her gloved hands together to try and generate heat.
"No, they'll do that while we walk out there. Us males are kinda stubborn like that," he told her, holding her gaze a moment longer as his smile still played about his lips, before he turned for the door.
And just before they stepped outside he turned back to her in mock seriousness, "You know you're awfully cute when you're angry."
"Oh, just get out there," she snickered and followed him out into the blustery wind.
###
In their adjoining cells, Red and Dembe sat together at the bars. Not talking much, they sat on the floor against the back wall sharing each others companionship. Out in the vacant room a lone guard sat disinterestedly on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, rocking it precariously back and forth, his silence punctuated every so often with a bored yawn.
"Have you figured it out yet, Raymond?" Dembe asked him quietly.
Red lifted his head a little, leaning back on the wall as he searched his memory. "Not yet. It will come to me though, rest assured."
"Of that I have no doubt."
The remains of their meager meal sat on plastic plates on the cell floor a short distance away from them. As Red looked down at them, he was again disturbed at their host's lack of compassion. Sure, the man had fed them, but that was all. Basic common decency was apparently lacking in this individual.
He wracked his brain as he thought back to 2007, frustrated at what it was that he could possibly have done to Anton to warrant any of this. He had been in many places that year and as his brain went through each country he'd been in and the various interactions he'd had, still nothing came to mind. Beside him, Dembe let out a small gasp as he quickly brought his head back up as he fought to stay awake. The blood seeping down his side ran over his clothing, congealing on the floor beneath him.
"I know Dembe… I'm working on it. Hang in there," Red told him quietly, out of earshot of the guard.
"It is okay, Raymond. I am fine."
Red looked at him. He was not fine. "I think it's high time I became a squeaky wheel here," he told Dembe and rising to his feet, he addressed the bored guard.
"Far be it from me to disturb a man so diligently working here, but I really must insist that I speak to Anton. That is, if you could take a moment out of your busy schedule here to summon him," asked Red, leaning his hands through the metal bars.
The guard looked up, apparently surprised that someone was even aware of him. "He's not here."
Red hadn't expected that but rolled with it. "Who is in charge in his absence?"
"I'm not sure. I was told to stay here and watch you two."
"And I must say, that's something you're absolutely excelling at, by the way," said Red, before shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the ceiling.
"Where is Mr Young-" he stopped, knowing this dullard wouldn't know who he was referring to. "Where is the gun wielding employee of Anton's that escorted us down to these lovely accommodations?" Red asked the man.
"Who? Oh, that guy. Around."
Red shook his head as he regarded the fine specimen of intelligence in front of him. "Thank you. I must say you've been of extreme assistance." And as he was about to turn back to Dembe, he turned back to the guard.
"But just for the sake of something to do and the art of making fine conversation, tell me, how long have you worked for Anton?" he asked, not expecting much of an answer but pushing on regardless.
"Few years," said the guard, "Why is that of interest to you?"
"Well, funny thing. I was just saying to my friend here that I knew we'd first met Anton in 2008. My friend insists we met him the year before that but couldn't recall where that might have been. But between you and me, I don't think so. So to prove my friend wrong here, I was wondering if you could possibly search that fount of knowledge between your ears with any idea of where he was during that time, and help win this bet for me," smiled Red, leaning on the bars.
"Oh, right. That's an easy one. He was in Germany in 2007. Because that's when I came to work for him while he was there."
Red stepped back, tilting his head in pleasant surprise at what had been inside the guard's head after all. "Well, just when I thought we were getting along swimmingly, you go and lose the bet for me. But far be it from me not to be gracious in defeat. You are quite correct. I recall it well now. Lommerzheim's Restaurant, Cologne, Germany, on a blustery autumn evening in 2007."
Turning back to Dembe, he continued, "You win my friend. I'll pay up when I am more flush. I don't appear to have any cash on my person at this moment."
Dembe nodded, his face slowly breaking out into a smile as Red came and sat next to him again. There were times he simply loved to watch the way his boss worked.
And bored once again with the conversation, the guard continued rocking back and forth on the plastic chair, as Red waited for the man to fall flat on his ass at some point. But he had his information. He'd narrowed down the timeline, and now just had to ascertain exactly what he'd done to Anton in Cologne in 2007.
###
Their heads down against the wind, Ressler walked in front of Liz to protect her from the brunt of the wind that was hitting them and dropping them into dangerously low wind chills. With barely any light, apart from a moon that occasionally shone through the overcast sky, they couldn't make out where the sleds were yet as they made their way parallel to the sloped exit ramp on their right.
Putting out her hand to reach for Ressler's back, she touched him but was unable to hang onto him with fingers she could no longer feel. He immediately turned back to her, keeping his back to the wind.
"I don't…feel… good…" she looked up at him, shaking so hard she could barely get the words out.
Neither did he. It was far too cold. This was lunacy, yet in a crazy Catch-22, they needed to be out in it to retrieve the blankets that would be the only thing out here to warm them. Holding out his arms quickly he caught her as she fell into him, shuddering with cold. He was no warmer than her but held her as the wind blew around them and through them. Her head dropped to his chest and he felt her slipping as he hoisted her back up against him.
"Keep going Liz…" Walking backward with her in his arms now as he dragged her with him, he glanced behind him every few steps to see where he was going. The wind was brutal, cutting into them and dropping their skin temperatures. For the first time, Ressler was acutely aware of how desperate their situation had become. Hitting him right in the forefront of his brain, he realized they could die right out here in this snow.
And that thought sustained him as he held onto her, clutching her to his chest. He briefly considered turning back. But that would be worse than continuing. They were at the point of no return. Grabbing at her as she slipped down his body, he stifled a cry as pain flared in his right shoulder. "Come on Liz! Come on. You can do it." He didn't think she could do it. But he wasn't quitting on her now.
The moon broke through the clouds as the white snow crystallized in the faint light around him, as he turned to look behind them again. And sitting some 50 feet away from them, the white metal of the sleds caught the moonlight, briefly illuminating them in the stark landscape.
"We're almost there Liz… Hang on…" he shivered, his voice feeling strange in his throat. Making a snap decision, he stopped and kneeled down, dropping Liz to the snow on her knees. "Stay here. Crouch down Liz!" he shouted hoarsely into her ear above the wind. Unable to answer him, her body a mass of locked muscles, she dropped where he'd placed her on the snow.
With one awful moment of split decision – stay or go – he looked at her still form on the ground. For that split second he couldn't bear to leave her. But then his brain kicked into gear. If he didn't leave her, she would die right there.
Scrambling to his feet he whirled away from her and ran through the snow, heading straight for where he'd made out the sleds. On legs that should have long since given up, he churned through the snow as it flew about him, the white wet spray hitting his body. His chest heaved in pain as the dangerously cold air burned his lungs. And as he ran, he found himself panting and crying out; almost whimpering, yet barely a sound came out.
He plowed on until he reached the sleds, finally coming to a shuddering halt beside them. Standing by them his hands dropped to his knees as he leaned forward, dry retching as the cold suddenly cramped his stomach.
"Damn… it… come on!" he told himself, forcing himself to get on with it and squinted in the wind looking at the two metal sleds.
Campbells' sled was empty for the most part. Grabbing the two blankets off it, he threw one around his head. Tying it off in a makeshift poncho he managed to cover his head and some of his face. The blanket was as ice cold as the wind. Almost ripping it off, he cried out but forced himself to keep it on him. It wouldn't warm him but it would afford some protection.
"Come on… come on…" he panted, as he located the cables to the sled in the dark and tossed them over his head. Unable to put any weight on his shoulders, he lowered the cables to his waist and began to move, pulling the sled with him through the deep snow. For a moment it held fast as his legs struggled to find any traction in the wet snow.
"Damn it! Move!" he croaked at the unyielding sled as his legs slipped and brought him to his knees on legs that were so numb he hardly felt it. Scrambling to his feet again, the stuck sled finally broke free of its hold in the snow. Gaining momentum with each step, he followed his footsteps through the snow, looking frantically for Liz in the darkness. He couldn't recall her being this far down when he'd started to run to the sleds.
"Liz!" he tried to shout, but his voice disappeared in the wind. "Damn… Liz!" he croaked, and finally he saw her dark form crouched on the ground. Hurrying to her as he dragged the sled he reached her and stepped out of the cables. Dropping to her side he lifted her face to look at him as he crouched by her, his breath coming in shallow pants. Her eyes opened, yet they were glassy and unseeing. Unable to speak, she barely shuddered in his arms, her muscles too locked now to shiver.
"Come on Liz. I've got you." And unaware of where he even got the strength to do so, he lifted her bodily off the snow and cradled her in his arms. His back straining as fresh blood seeped from his shoulder, he carried her to the sled, his heart threatening to explode in his chest. Depositing her as carefully as he could into the sled, his feet slid out from under him as he let her go, dropping him down onto her. Quickly covering her with the other blanket from Campbell's sled, he gained his feet with an effort and started pulling the sled again.
Barely able to feel his legs anymore, he plowed on as he dragged the sled behind him, carrying its precious cargo. Forcing himself onward with his body a combination of searing pain and disconcerting numbness, he dragged the sled. He could barely see as his eyes streamed and stung with the cold but slowly the shape of the conveyor belts rose out of the night sky in front of them.
Almost unaware of the cables cutting into his belly, he raised his head to the sky and screamed silently as barely a sound escaped his tight throat, "Please!" he cried out hoarsely, needing someone, anyone to help them.
But no one was coming.
They were on their own.
And as his body trembled dangerously, his feet numb to the core, the building came into sight at last. Making a wide detour around their submerged dungeon, he approached the building and came around the front.
Slipping to the ground again, he dragged himself back up as he cursed at himself. "Come on…you can…do it…" he whimpered as he fumbled with the door and flung it open.
He couldn't drag the sled inside with Liz in it, and turning, he reached down for her limp form and again lifted her. His body threatening to give way at any second, he staggered inside with her. Unable to hold her, he stumbled as he dropped them both heavily to the floor. Climbing to his feet again, he turned and grabbed the sled from outside. And finally back in the only shelter to be found, he slammed the door shut against the wind outside. Tears ran from his bloodshot eyes as he brushed them away to try and see.
"Liz!" he dropped to her side and rolled her as he searched her face. Eyes closed, she didn't even acknowledge him. Her pale face shone in the light of his phone. "No!" On legs that could hardly support him now, he returned to the sled and pulled it apart to retrieve the blankets and large tarp.
Hurriedly laying the tarp on the ground, he folded it like a large sleeping bag and quickly lined it with half the blankets from the sled plus several pillows. The other half of the blankets he hurriedly stacked, ready to draw on top of them. Their pseudo sleeping bag complete, he picked her up for a third time as his back muscles cramped now and screaming soundlessly in pain he dropped her on the tarp and blankets. She was as safe as he could get her.
Quickly scrambling down beside her, he lay down as close as he could and dragged the remaining blankets over them with the tarp over the blankets to cocoon them inside. Covered completely, he pulled the blankets over their heads and huddled beside her as he put his arms around her.
"Don't you leave me… Don't you dare..." he whispered, begging her unresponsive form over and over as he held her under the blankets. His body a mass of shuddering, cold pain he was unable to take it any longer. And unable to resist, his body gave way and he joined her in unconsciousness.
###
Red was still taking his silent inventory in his mind, making his way through what he'd done before, during and after the meeting in Cologne in 2007. As his mind methodically went through it, the door to the room opened letting in a figure silhouetted in the light from the hall. As the man walked toward the guard in the middle of the room, Red smiled that little knowing smile as he watched their former comrade approach.
"Mr Young. Nice of you to come pay us a little visit," greeted Red, tilting his head to the side.
Young ignored him as he faced the guard to talk to him. As the guard left the room, Young watched him leave and close the door before he turned to Red. Approaching the bars, he faced Red silently as he stood before him with his hands on his hips. Indecision played about his face as Red looked at him.
"Something on your mind?" Red asked him, knowing precisely what was on the man's mind.
Young silently fished inside his pocket then walked toward Red to hand him a small paper sack. "That's for Campbell. Now we're even. I'll give you ten minutes." And not even waiting for an answer Young clenched his jaw, turned and walked toward the exit door, completely unaware that Red was grinning knowingly behind his back.
He knew what Young had brought him and looking down at the small paper bag in his hand, he opened it as he returned to Dembe. The bag contained several pieces of square gauze, a roll of wide gauze, surgical tape and a small tube of antibiotic cream.
"You see Dembe," he smiled, looking through the bars at his companion. "I told you I was working on it."
Dembe grinned at him, his white teeth contrasting sharply with his dark skin. "You always are, Raymond."
And while the guard was still distracted by Young outside, Dembe leaned on the bars to let Red access his wound and with expert hands, Red applied the dressing before wrapping the wide gauze around his middle, finally giving Dembe some relief from the bleeding.
Red was clearing away the evidence, flushing the empty bag down the toilet when the guard came back in ten minutes later, none the wiser.
###
The wind blew relentlessly around the building they were sheltering in as snow swirled in the night air, whipped up in wind as the temperature plunged to well below zero. Hidden below their pile of blankets and the encompassing tarp, Ressler slowly regained his senses. The first thing he was aware of was not so much the cold, but the fact he felt buried alive.
What the…where…?
Opening his eyes didn't enlighten him one bit. It was pitch black and as he slowly came round he realized he was clutching someone. Liz. And with a jolt, he sucked in a painful breath as he remembered exactly where they were.
Releasing one arm from Liz, he struggled to find his phone and get his glove off to access the touchscreen. Turning the light on, his eyes flared in pain and he slammed them shut against the sudden onslaught of light in their enclosed space. Gingerly opening them again, he shone the light on her face beside him. With his glove still off, he went to feel for her pulse at her neck but then hesitated. If there was no pulse…
"Liz…" he croaked, his voice hoarse as it fought free of his aching throat. "Liz…"
His fingers dropped to her neck and closing his eyes he concentrated on finding her pulse under her cold skin.
He couldn't find it. "No!"
He held his fingers to her neck, moving them slightly. "No! Liz, no!" There was no pulse.
And with his heart hammering in his mouth, his eyes sprang open as he frantically shone the light on her. And suddenly he realized there WAS a pulse. He could see it in the light from the phone, beating steadily in her neck. His numb fingers had simply been unable to register it.
Tears of relief pricked his eyes as he watched that pulse beat in her neck, blurring it from his sight as tears pooled in his eyes. It was steady and certainly not as fast as it should be, but she was stable. Closing his eyes as his own heart continued hammering in his chest in relief, he took his hand from her neck and found her cheek. As he patted her cheek gently he was suddenly taken back to waking her in the plane.
More aware of his surroundings now, he moved a little as the feeling in his legs made its presence felt with agonizing reality. While not toasty warm, laying under the blankets was cutting the chill significantly. Still patting her face, he leaned close to her as he kept the phone light on. "Come on…" he croaked, "Come on Liz…"
She wasn't waking up though. And re-positioning himself again and trying in vain to convince himself she was better off resting, he held her against his chest to try and generate as much body heat as he could. Turning his phone light off as he lay under the blankets holding her, he willed her to be okay. And in the darkness as he tried not to think of the alternative to her being okay, he heard an echo in his mind. 'It was.'
Don't make me face that terrifying prospect Liz… Don't…
They were complicated. He was well aware of that. She shouldn't mean this much…he knew that. And yet…there was no turning back. No changing how he felt. And how she felt. She'd made her position clear with two little words. 'It was.'
And holding her close against him, wanting her to feel every ounce of warmth he could give her, he dropped his head and kissed her forehead. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes as he did so. She was the only person he'd kissed since…
Audrey…
And once he'd thought of her name, he saw Audrey on the street. Audrey bleeding. Audrey crying. Audrey saying his name as she died. 'Don…' But the one thing he now saw was Audrey smiling. She had smiled a little half smile right before she died in his arms. And he finally understood that while she hadn't wanted to leave him and hadn't wanted to die, in that final moment, she was okay with it and needed him to know. Needed him to understand that which she could no longer voice.
And as he held Liz he realized that while Audrey had been okay in that final moment, he was unable to lose another one in his arms. And clutching Liz to his chest, he kissed her forehead again, feeling her cold skin against his lips as his tears slid down his cheek and onto her.
There was no way he could rest right now. His body a mass of pain as his muscles slowly unlocked and thawed out, he lay beside her attempting to keep as still as he could to stave off the cramps that would inevitably come. And he began to talk softly to her, to whisper to her with his voice that was all but gone with the cold he had breathed in.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean for any of this to happen…" and as he said it, he told himself it was that he didn't mean to lose the matches. That if by some chance she did hear, that was his defense. But his heart told him he was referring to something else. He hadn't meant it to get so complicated. So confusing. He hesitated, waiting for her to answer him. Of course, she wasn't going to.
"It just…it just happened, Liz…" he told her, again veiling his words in double meaning.
"You deserve better though…" he told her in the dark.
And slowly he opened up, whispering to her still form in his arms. "Because…well, I'm not in a good place right now…" That was an understatement. He'd taken 7 pills today. He was a drug addict in recovery.
"And maybe you aren't either with everything that's happened with you and …your ex…" He suddenly couldn't utter her ex-husband's name. And as he spoke, it occurred to him that he'd stopped hiding what he meant. But it no longer mattered.
"I just…I don't know Liz…right now, I need you as a friend. I think you maybe need me as a friend…" He stopped briefly, closing his eyes against fresh tears threatening to take over as he kissed her forehead again, before he started up again. "Because it's too soon…for you with…him. And for me with…her."
And he knew he was rambling. That none of it made sense. This was women stuff. Men didn't deal with this. But he was cold and in pain and needed to focus on her right now. Because as he lay in the dark he didn't know if they were going to make it out of this alive. And if they were going to die then he wasn't going to die with some things unsaid.
"But you know there is this…thing…between us. I know you do…you saw it first. Admitted it first."
'It was.'
"I am aware it's there too…I see it... feel it too, Liz…"
He stopped, resting his chin on her hair. "I just don't want you to get more hurt… and being around me, is likely to hurt you…" He closed his eyes at that. Being around him had got Audrey killed.
"But you are around me…as partners…every day…and I love that… I shouldn't, but I do…and I..." He kissed her forehead again, unable to hold the tears back now.
"It's just complicated, Liz…" he whispered to her.
And suddenly, his brain couldn't think about it anymore as he lay there holding her. And he was slowly drifting off to an exhausted sleep when she moved slightly in his arms.
"It's… not… not that… complicated, Ress…"
His heart leapt at the sound of her voice as his eyes sprang open.
He should have just pretended he hadn't heard her. Should have just pretended he had fallen asleep. It would have been FAR less complicated. But she was leaning on his chest and felt his heart lurch and raised her head to him.
And in the dark, taking his cue from Audrey who had needed to tell him how she felt as she died, he lowered his head, placed his hand on her chin and found her lips. Hesitating a bare second as he brushed them with his, she reached up to his neck and pulled him to her. And kissing her now, she responded, opening up to him as they tasted each other, seeking each other out in the dark. It was complicated. It was confusing. But in the dark, not knowing if they'd live or die, it was the one thing they needed from each other.
