When Ressler came to again, Keen was sitting on the floor next to him staring into nothing. Her face was cut and swelling, and her lungs were still struggling to recover. She'd randomly cough up water, not to mention she was soaking wet in very cold basement. Ressler, on the other hand, looked like he had been hit by a train. His white shirt was covered in blood, his face had so much bruising and cuts it was hard to look at. His swollen black eye was beginning to block out vision and his broken ribs were making every breath hurt. He could not count the number of bones he was certain were broken or fractured.
"Morning, sunshine." Keen broke out of her stare noticing Ressler moving. He immediately regretted any movement. The shooting pain came from everywhere, he didn't know what could move without pain.
"It's morning?" He asked still curled into the fetal position he collapsed in.
"No, it's night. Not sure what time, sometime during darkness. You've been out for a while, though, I lost track."
"What happened?" He tried to sit up but resulted in lay on his back.
"After being tortured and through against a wall, you collapsed and passed out."
"I think the wall won," Ressler said as he turned his attention to the ceiling.
"I thought what you did was brave. Stupid, but brave." Keen gave him a side smile before repositioning her head against the bench.
"Are you okay? Why are you so wet?"
"Waterboarding. I learned what drowning feels like, but I'll be fine."
It was odd how easy it was for Ressler to talk to Keen. I guess all it took was having their identities and security stripped away, and two people could see each other from a level point of view. Ressler figured now was a good time as any to get some of the answers he seeked.
"Can I ask you something?" Ressler didn't even look over at Keen who had closed her eyes to manage her spinning head and burning lungs.
"Not like I can stop you."
"Why did you disappear? What made you drop out of Quantico and join Reddington?" Ressler glanced over, though Keen did not react and kept her eyes closed.
"Why do you care?"
"It's my job. I've been chasing you this whole time not knowing why a perfectly innocent mild-mannered federal agent in training dropped everything to become a criminal. It never made sense to me."
"You want to understand. Want to know what makes me tick? You want it to make sense, so you feel better about wasting your career chasing me?"
She was good. He had never thought about it that way, but yes. He had spent so many years tracking down a world-renowned criminal who was a traitor to his country. Keen, though, he never truly believed she was a traitor. It never added up. And on some moral level he did need to justify it. Arresting one of his own, that didn't feel right. The bureau did not have any evidence of her committing a crime, she was present in areas when crimes were committed, however, was she involved or just listening to orders from a deranged but charming crime lord? He needed it to make sense for his own personal reasons. Gale did not care about whether it made sense or not, they were either a criminal or not in his mind. He believed in guilty until proven innocent. Ressler disagreed. He could not put anyway an innocent man or woman and sleep well. He needed the facts.
"Yes." Ressler gave her the satisfaction she needed.
"I guess you'd figure it out eventually so what's the harm. As you can imagine, it all started with Tom. I came home one day expecting to have dinner with my husband. We lived a normal life. He was a teacher and I worked for the bureau. We got married and bought a brownstone just outside of the city. I was just a profiler; I had not worked any big cases and mainly just did paperwork. We did not have enemies.
I came home that day to find my husband duct taped to a chair. There was so much blood. I still have nightmares about the blood, pouring out of so many places. I could not stop it. I remember the look on Tom's face as I screamed in horror. I called 911 and tried to stop the bleeding. There were stab wounds, cuts, swelling, everywhere. I remember the blood vessel that burst in his eye as he looked up at me so helpless. He knew it was the end. I don't know how long he had been tortured in our own home. Tortured for what or why, I didn't know. He was a teacher.
I took the duct tape off his mouth, and he tried muttering something. He had lost so much blood and could not make his words louder. I was crying so hard and had to calm my cries to hear him. I leaned in close and he whispered "Find Red." That was the last thing my husband said to me. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was gone. The last words from my husband were "Find Red." Red who? Why was he saying this? Was this person responsible for Tom's death? Those were the questions I needed answers to." Keen paused for a second. Ressler turned to see a tear sneak out from her closed eyes.
She continued, "I understand your need for it to make sense, but it didn't. I tried investigating on my own. The bureau started a case, too Not too long in they deemed it a dead end. I pushed and pushed for more resources and investigators. No use. They refused. I was driven mad by the senselessness. I came home every day to that blood-stained floor and a missing dining room chair. I would look at the pictures of what was, and I just could not do it anymore. I needed to know why.
Once I realized who Red was, I charmed my way into getting my hands on a classified file. It was the DNA test. They knew, and I didn't. They never told me my biological father was on the FBI's Most Wanted List. They must have realized I had no idea otherwise how could I have made it so far into the FBI with the amount of investigation they require into each agents background.
I decided answers were what I needed and if the bureau was not going to help me find them, I would go to the next best person. My dad, Raymond Reddington. Still feels weird to say. All my life Sam was my father. When he died, I didn't know I had any other family out there. Hope shocked I was to find out who my real family was."
"Have you found the answers you were looking for?" Ressler asked when she paused.
"You only get one question today."
"So, you're not going to tell me if you are the 'E' that keep sending me surveillance photos with notes on the back?" Ressler had trained his eyes on her now, hoping for a reaction, any sign it was her.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to hide her ever so slight smile, but Ressler caught it.
"I know it's you Keen." Ressler sat up from where he lay pointing a finger at her, it was worth the pain if he got his answer. Keen finally opened her eyes. She turned to meet his accusing eyes.
"You've saved me, I've saved you. Hell, I have your blood pulsing through me. We are both being held prisoner because of this cat and mouse game between us. At this point, you can just call me Liz." A smart way of evading Ressler's accusation.
"Ok, Liz. Why do you keep sending me those messages?"
"Well, Donald, I still don't know what you're talking about."
"That's Agent Ressler to you."
"Oh really. I saved your ass back at the warehouse from being shot and I can't even call you Donald?"
He smirked through the pain it caused, "I guess I need to know you a little better to give you that privilege." Would she fall for his ploy?
Liz did not respond but she did smile. He could have sworn she also winked at him before closing her eyes again. She could have been wincing in pain, but Ressler was going to believe it was a wink. He was getting somewhere. His doubts about Liz being a true criminal were growing. It was beginning to sound like she sided with Red only for his resources and information. Did she believe he was responsible? Did she already have her answers? If she had her answers, why was she still living this life? Ressler still didn't know everything. He did know there was a lot more to Liz than he original thought.
Liz knew Ressler wanted answers. She needed more time. Ressler was a good agent, a useful resource she needed to keep in her repertoire. For now, getting out of this cell was top priority. There would be no answers to find or give if they died in this factory. Another priority was warmth. Liz was still soaking wet and freezing. The basement was getting colder and colder through the night. The floor was like sitting on ice and she was not wearing any layers.
"Hey, Donnie," Ressler turned his head to look up at her with a puzzled look, "No? Donald?" Another eyebrow raise, "Ressler?" No facial disagreement. "Ok, Ressler. Do you think the FBI will pay your ransom?"
"Absolutely not. The US government does not negotiate with terrorists. Also, I told them not to," Keen sighed but didn't respond, "Do you think Reddington will turn himself in for you?"
"I hope not. Unfortunately, I believe he will. I'm his daughter and he'd do anything to protect me."
"You worry about him?"
"Yes. He's one of the smartest people I've ever known. However, he has his faults as you know. His morals on loyalty are both a strength and weakness of his. He will blindly help anyone who swear their loyalty to him and immediately kill anyone who betrays that loyalty."
Ressler was aware of Red's long list of associates that had met their end for choosing a side that was not Red's. He also would go to the end of the Earth to help his loyal followers. Liz being his biological daughter meant she was at the top of his list. Anything she ever needed; he came through.
"Never mind. You don't need to hear about our family drama. You've been trying to capture our family for too long to care about our problems."
"I obviously disagree with your choice of life path, disgracing the agency I swear my own loyalties to. However, I understand it can't be easy finding out you are the biological daughter to a Most Wanted man." Ressler and Liz's eyes connected again. Liz felt a spark of warmth shoot up her spine. Her whole body shivered at the change in temperature. "Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?"
Damn he was a gentleman, "Would you mind? I'm freezing."
"Not at all. As long as you don't mind the blood stains." Ressler removed his jacket as carefully as he could and handed it to Liz. She threw it around herself, his long sleeves covering all her arm length and more. She tightly hugged herself with her new layer of clothing still holding Ressler's warmth in it. It was like wearing a sweatshirt taking right out of the dryer. It was like he was hugging her. Ressler notice her smile growing and felt more at ease to be lying next to a criminal.
Silence fell between the two prisoners. Ressler's body was telling him to rest and Liz had already closed her eyes again. Ressler was lying flat on the stone floor realizing sleeping would be difficult when every position hurt. The back of his head which had a fresh laceration from being pistol whipped earlier was hating him sleeping on his back. He did not dare to move. Instead, Ressler shedding his whit button down, leaving him in his wife beater that also had blood stains that seeped through his shirt. He folded his dress shirt and propped his head up underneath it. It was better.
Liz, on the other hand, was not finding her bench pillow comfortable either. Her neck was aching, but she knew the floor would be just as bad and colder. She glanced over at Ressler and his shirt pillow, jealous of his multiple layered outfit. She knew she was desperate otherwise she would never revert to asking a sworn enemy for so much help.
"Can I ask you a question?" She hoped he had not fallen asleep yet.
"I think you already did." Ressler opened one eye.
"Do you want to share this jacket?"
"Share my jacket?"
"You look cold. You're down to just your wife beater. I thought you might want some warmth."
"Do you really care about my body temperature or are you jealous of my pillow and want your own?"
Smug ass feds. "Okay, yeah. Maybe I'm jealous of your pillow and my bench is just not cutting it."
"This is a one-time offer, due to your desperation and my inability to think clearly because of my altercation with the wall earlier. And we will never speak of this after tomorrow morning. Deal?"
"Deal." Liz could not hide her smile. Ressler moved one of his arms and motioned for her to lay next to him. She did not hesitate. She curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Careful. I'm think my ribs are as stable as Humpty Dumpty at this point." Ressler wrapped his arm around her back and Liz covered them both with his suit jacket resting her hand cautiously on his chest.
They might have been prisoners being held for ransom having been tortured extensively with less than 48 hours to live and were currently locked in a cold basement cell, but they both thought the day was not ending so poorly. They would never admit it, but they both fell asleep with ease. Safety was a certainty they lacked now, though sleeping in each other's arm brought a small sense of security back into their lives. At least for the night.