"Wake up," a leather jacket as he kicked the fence wall of their cell.

Ressler and Liz woke suddenly realizing they had slept in each other's arms all night. Liz pushed off Ressler's chest causing a wince from him as she happened forgotten the glass state of his injuries.

"Hope you two had fun last night," the other leather jacket sniggered elbowing his fellow capture.

"Keen. You're coming with us." Liz stood and they unlocked the cell to ziptie her hands and led her up the stairs and out of sight.

"Yo', boi. Cum 'ith me." The giant speaks was Ressler's first thought. His English was quite poor and his accent thick. He was escorted upstairs as well and into one of the rooms off the main factory floor. The same room he was tortured in yesterday. Was this round two of torture? He hoped not, he did not know how much longer his ribs could hold out.

Back in Liz's room, the capture set her down in a center chair. She was not in the same room she was tortured in. There was no bathtub or water in sight.

"It's your lucky day, Keen," that phrase was being throw around with too much ease lately, she thought, "Reddington has agreed to our demands. The transfer will take place later today." The leather jackets crossed their arms and looked at her with pleased smirks.

Reddington agreed? Why would he do that? She pleaded with herself though she knew the answer. Reddington loved her. He'd do anything for his daughter, a grand fault of his. She was going to be free and Red would be taken prisoner and most likely killed thereafter. She'd rather die than knowingly let her father walk into his own death. She knew if Ressler was here, he would ask, "Why would you give your life to save a man you barely know who is a one of the most feared criminals in the world?" It could survivor's guilt, she thought. But it wasn't. Red is her father whether she knew it before or not. Red was the only family she had left. She could not live to see him taken away, too.

Wait, what about Ressler?

"Did the FBI agree to your terms?" Liz asked.

"No. 'We don't negotiate with terrorists,'" the leather jacket quoted with a dumb face. "We are not terrorists just opportunistic businessmen." The dumb faced leather jacket looked to his colleague for affirmation and his face changed to that of a confident goon.

Liz ignored their ignorance, "What will happen to Agent Ressler?"

"Worried about your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend. He is simply the FBI agent hunting me down. I was just asking, and hoping, if he will be executed, as you claimed."

"Yes. He will be executed a little later."

Ressler sat in silence in his torture room. The giant had not spoken since walking upstairs and had stationed himself near the door. His gazed was fixated on something on the wall behind Ressler. A bug? A dust follicle? A water droplet refusing to allow gravity to work? Who knew. All Ressler wanted to know was where Liz was and what was happening.

"Hey, you there. Do you know where they took Liz?"

The giant looked irritated as his staring contest with the wall had been interrupted, but spoke, "Udder room."

"Is she being tortured?"

"No."

"Interrogated?"

"No."

"What is happening?"

"She be free."

"They are letting her go?"

"Yes."

"Am I?"

"No."

Well, that wasn't much of an interview, Donald. The language barrier was making it hard for him to get proper information out of the giant who either did not know much or did not know the English words need to explain what was happening. Liz was in another room not being torture, which was good. Red had decided to comply with their demands, and she would be set free. At least, one of them was going to get out of here. Not like he was surprised the FBI was not going to pay the ransom. For one, he knew their policy and two, he told them not to. He would likely be executed on a live feed for the bureau to watch. Killing American agents was like a sport to these guys. Millions would tune in, cheering and booing, and it would go viral. A statement of power.

For a man who did not use much technology or social media at all, he would go down in history with his last fleeting breaths being filmed and posted for all to see.

"How much time do I have?"

"Not long." Conversation over. The giant resumed his stare and was unavailable for further questions.

Ressler must have sat in his chair for an hour, arms tied behind him. Liz sat in her chair restrained as well but with a semblance of hope. She would be free, the agent hunting her would be dead. It sounded pretty good. Everything except the uncertainty of Red's future. Maybe he had a plan, he always had a plan and back up plan and a contingency plan. She had to believe he was prepared for what was to come and that eased her mind. Then, an idea sparked in her brain. What would Red do?

"Guards? Thugs? Whatever you are. Hello, I need to talk to you." Liz screamed hoping they would on the other side of the door. She kept screaming until the door opened.

"What?" an annoyed leather jacket asked through an ajar door.

"Can I make a request?"

"A request from a prisoner who is about to be freed? Not sure you're in a place to ask for something, sweetheart."

"Trust me, I think this will be a win win of both of us."

He took a deep breath and entered the room. "What could you possible ask that will benefit us?"

"I know you are planning to kill Agent Ressler and I was just wondering if I could be the one to do the deed?"

The leather jacket's jaw dropped slightly. "Keep talking."

"I mean he has to die. What I would give to put a bullet between the eyes of the man who has made my life hell these past couple of years. I know my father would approve of me ending the life of the black cloud that follows us around the world screwing up our business adventures and arresting our clientele."

"Surprising coming from his cuddle buddy." He laughed to himself.

"That was purely for warmth. I hated having to be that close to a man I loathe. Circumstances of survival kicked in. Enemy or not, I needed him in the moment to survive."

Understanding this logic, he asked, "What's in it for us?"

"Anonymity. If I kill him, you guys remain anonymous. It just looks like a hit ordered by Raymond Reddington, executed by his daughter sending a message to the FBI. You guys can have full deniability about murdering a federal agent and continue to lurk in the shadows."

The leather jacket began to stroke his chin, amused by this idea.

"International terrorists Elizabeth Keen kills a federal agent live. Now, that is a show I would buy tickets to go see." His smile grew the more he thought about it. "We would stay off camera, you would go down for the murder. We would be scot free."

"So, am I executing Agent Donald Ressler?"