Sitting down before he fell down, Ressler sat on the opposite gurney and stared at Liz. Mind racing, he realized one thing. She had faked her death once before to get out of Red's world, and now she had done it again. She had never wanted to take over his empire. This had been her way out! She had just never planned on him or the task force being there to see it.
Leaning forward and holding her hand again, he was now filled with resolve. Red must never find out that Liz was still alive. He had to help her because something had obviously gone awry with Red's transport picking her up instead of whatever method she had planned to get out of there before her 'resurrection'.
He felt her pulse again. Still about 30 seconds apart, and still ice cold. Still 'dead,' Whatever she had taken to achieve this result was going to need reversing, and soon.
"Think, think, think…" he said, trying to understand where she would have wanted to be taken.
She no longer had a fixed address. Her and Agnes had been staying in a hotel. He couldn't take a 'dead' Liz for Agnes to see. Damn, if only he'd known what she'd planned! And the realization hit that not only had she wanted to appear dead to Reddington, but perhaps to everyone else, himself included, to make her escape complete. Squashing his own feelings on that he sighed, heartbroken for her that she had been pushed that far.
Escape. She'd wanted to escape. And for that she'd need her jet.
His hand went straight to her jeans pocket, looking for her phone. And on finding it, he scanned through the contacts, realizing he didn't know her pilot's name.
"Damn it," he whispered.
But she wouldn't have gone anywhere without Agnes and Mrs French's number was right there. He called the number, his own heart hammering in his chest, in stark contrast to Liz's painfully slow beat.
As Mrs French answered Ressler kept his voice low, introducing himself and asking what time had Liz arranged to meet them at the jet. It was a gamble, but he just knew this had to have been what Liz planned.
"Oh, okay, yes Charles is set to take off at 8:00am. I'm to take Agnes to the plane before that and I'm about to get her up and ready."
Ressler's heart leapt. Charles. He'd seen a Charles in the list of contacts.
"You've been very helpful. I'd hate for Liz to leave without me seeing her off first. Thank you, Mrs French." He hung up, then called Charles.
As the man answered, Ressler went through his spiel again of wanting to see Liz off and hoping to get out of the hospital in time to do that. The man on the end of the phone chuckled, and then gave Ressler the name of the airfield. "Her doctor is here too, just as she had asked for," he added. "She's always so prepared."
Thanking the man, Ressler hung up. Mind whirling, he looked at Liz. She'd obviously planned to be taken to her plane and have the doctor revive her, just as he'd thought. He carefully rolled her sweater back down, then placed the sheet back over her in the same position she'd been earlier. He had to get her out of here, before Reddington discovered what she had done.
He leaned toward her, lifting the white sheet a little to expose her face. "I'm going to get you out of here, I promise. I got you," he whispered, then kissed her cold forehead.
"Don, are you in there? Are you okay?"
Cooper's voice startled him, and Ressler covered her back up and sat down quickly, trying not to look guilty. "I… I'm okay," he managed, now aware that he wasn't sitting next to a body, and feeling as if there was a neon sign above Liz announcing that fact.
"I thought I heard you talking to someone." Cooper looked around as if someone was there.
"I was just…" Ressler looked at Liz, holding her hand.
"I understand. You stay with her. But we'll need to make arrangements for the… funeral home to come and get her soon," Cooper told him gently.
His mind whirling, Ressler only nodded. He needed to tell Cooper. "Yeah, uh, about that," he began but was pulled up short by a familiar voice. One he had no desire to hear.
"Harold, I've made arrangements for Elizabeth's...remains…"
Ressler was trapped. They both wanted to take Liz, and he couldn't have that. He needed to move fast and get her to her plane and the help she needed, yet couldn't let on she wasn't dead with Reddington right there.
"You're not taking her anywhere," he told Red. "You've done enough harm, and she's out of your reach now." He stopped, knowing the double meaning behind that, hoping like hell Red didn't cotton on.
But the man was too distraught and didn't fight Ressler on it. Red shook his head, lowering his gaze, then looked at Cooper. "Very well. You take her to the funeral home of your choosing."
Cooper reached for Red's arm. "I know this isn't what you had planned when you were in my office earlier today. I know you're grieving, as we all are. But I'm sorry, I also hold you responsible for this. Your desire to withhold everything that Liz needed to know is what led to this tragic outcome."
Red nodded, defeated. "Yes." He looked up at Ressler. "I'd like to have one more moment with her, then I'll head out."
Ressler sat in the back of the ambulance, now afraid that Liz's heartbeat would increase and become more noticeable. Because she'd never be free of Red if that happened. He had failed, or thought he had, by not reaching her in time. He was damned if he was going to fail her now.
"No."
Cooper sighed, and turned to Ressler. "Give the man a moment with her. We can give him that. I don't think common decency died along with Elizabeth, did it?"
Holding Liz's hand again in his own, Ressler attempted to hide the tiny pulse in Liz's wrist. It was increasing, he knew it. A little faster than every 30 seconds now.
He held his ground. "No. He's done enough. He forfeited the right to be with her now."
"It's fine Harold. Donald is quite correct. I bid you farewell, gentlemen." And without another look at Liz, Red turned and walked away, Dembe at his side.
"Was that really necessary?" Cooper asked Ressler.
And feeling the pulse again in Liz's wrist, Ressler ignored Cooper's words and played his own hand. "I want to take her to the funeral home. I don't want them coming here."
Cooper raised his eyebrows. "You're in no condition to be driving. We already have a hearse coming to pick her up."
So you waited until we were in the back of a hearse to tell me you love me. Ressler couldn't stop that memory, yet it now cemented his resolve to do everything he could for her.
"I'm fine." He looked Cooper, imploring his boss to relent. "I need to do this for her."
"You're not driving anywhere." A new voice joined the conversation and Ressler turned in the direction it had come from. The pesky nurse. He'd forgotten about her.
The nurse looked at Cooper. "Is he always like this?"
Cooper managed a wry smile, looking from Ressler to the nurse. "Pretty much, yes. Once his mind is made up, there is no stopping him. And especially not where it concerns… Elizabeth."
The nurse stood her ground. Ressler held his. And from the other end of the warehouse came Reddington, addressing the woman. "Hilda, you can't win this one. Let Donald take her to the funeral home."
Now Ressler looked to the criminal in surprise. But he didn't allow himself to thank the man for this small mercy. Not after what he'd done. With a final look to Cooper, who now nodded, Ressler headed to the drivers side of the ambulance as Cooper closed the back doors.
"Wait," Cooper called out, walking to some shirts and coats hanging on hooks by the warehouse doors. "At least wear a jacket." Ressler took the navy blue serviceman's jacket with 'Bob' emblazoned on the pocket. As he donned it, wincing at how that pulled on his chest, Cooper smiled. "We wouldn't want you looking like you just escaped from the hospital now, would we?"
Ressler could have laughed at the man's attention to detail. But taking down the address of the funeral home from Cooper, he needed to go, terrified Liz would wake up right as he was trying to whisk her to safety.
From behind him, he heard Reddington. "Look after our girl, Donald."
Ressler bit his tongue, no longer trusting himself to speak to Red. He started the ambulance, then turned and drove through the warehouse doors Dembe had opened.
"I will take care of MY girl, you bastard," Ressler said in the confines of the cab.