"Aram, any news on Agent Keen?" Cooper asked as the younger agent walked into his office and joined Samar and Meera.

"Uhh yes sir." He replied nervously.

Cooper raised an eyebrow as he waited expectantly, as did the other two women.

Aram cleared his throat and continued. "Highway patrol found a wrecked SUV in Prince George's County..Agent Keen's vehicle. The good news is, she wasn't in the car or near the crash site." He hesitated for a bit. "Well..I'm not exactly sure if that's good news. I mean, I guess it means she didn't die in the crash. Unless she did and someone took her. Or she survived and someone took her, which may or may not be worse than dying-"

"Aram." Samar said sternly, trying to reel him in.

He looked at her and nodded, apparently pacified by her soft gaze. "Umm, they also found several unmarked vehicles hidden by the trees. They're searching the woods now for anything out of the ordinary."

"When was Liz's car found?" Meera asked.

"Around ten in the morning." He responded.

Cooper nodded in understanding. "Have we heard from Reddington?"

"He says that Richardson just finished up an arms deal somewhere in New England two days ago, so we know he could be in the area." Samar replied. "Reddington's also overseas at the moment and says to keep him updated with finding Liz."

"Alright, Navabi, Malik. I want you two over at the crash site. Put together a search party for Agent Keen and try to figure out what those other vehicles are doing there." Cooper turned to Aram. "See what more you can squeeze out of Reddington and coordinate with ATF about that arms deal. If Richardson isn't with Keen, I want him found and I want him in custody. He might at least know where to find her."

"Lizzie, where are you?" Reddington's voice resonated through the phone. "Aram says you were in an accident."

"I'm fine," she replied.

"And Richardson?"

"He's dead. Where are you?"

"Dead?" He asked, almost sounding disappointed.

"Yeah, dead. Now, where are you?"

"I'm just coming back from a rather titillating brunch with an old friend in Spain. Have you ever-"

"No, I've never done whatever you're about to say." She interjected, annoyed at his casualty. "Listen, I need to see you now."

"It certainly sounds urgent. Where are you?"

"Don't tell the others, but I'm at home. Meet me here now. I'll explain everything."

"I should be there by the evening." He said. "Should I bring you a souvenir?"

Liz rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. She sighed as she leaned back on the counter, crossing her arms and thinking about what she was going to say to Red.

Hey so I met a guy. He's funny, handsome, outdoorsy..oh and anyone who gets close to him dies instantly.

She figured Red would probably do most of the talking anyway. Liz then looked down at herself and noticed that she was still wearing the baggy clothes Ressler had given her. Not wanting to take the brunt of Reddington's wit, she headed upstairs and quickly changed into a sweater and jeans, absentmindedly throwing the clothes into the hamper. As she walked back out into the hallway, the bathroom door opened, and Ressler stepped out, wearing a clean flannel shirt and jeans.

"How was the shower?" She asked, expecting another comment about living in the wild.

"Great. I missed having water pressure." He said. "I saw some men's stuff in there. Do you…live with someone?"

"Oh, right." She scolded herself for not thinking about what Tom would say if he saw Ressler in their home. Thankfully, she wasn't planning on him meeting her new friend. "My husband, Tom. Don't worry about him, though, he's at a conference in Nebraska for a week. He's a teacher."

Ressler nodded and followed her downstairs to settle in the living room. By the time the food came, it was almost 5 in the afternoon. The two of them spent time on the couch watching various movies and eating. She showed him some of the big movies that had recently come out, and laughed at how he was entranced by all the new films. Liz didn't know what to think when she figured they'd have to spend a lot of time together, but now she knew it was pretty nice having him around. She didn't feel lonely and had someone to talk and laugh with. She was glad she could give him back the civilization he clearly missed.

"Okay, you're on." Aram announced to Meera and Samar through the phone to signal that Cooper was in the war room.

"We didn't find her." Samar said bluntly. "But we did find some..interesting things."

"There were three unmarked vehicles here, all SUVs." Meera began.

"While we were searching the woods, we found dead bodies, all armed and dressed like mercenaries." Samar continued.

"Richardson's men?" Aram asked, looking at Cooper.

"Likely. But Richardson himself won't be much of a problem anymore." Meera replied. "He's dead."

"Dead?" Cooper asked, surprised. "How?"

"That's the interesting part. There don't seem to be any wounds or bruises, and there doesn't seem to be a solid cause of death for any of the bodies." Samar informed them.

"So...where do we go from here?" Aram asked nervously.

"There's more. All of the men that died all had white eyes." Meera punctuated.

"White eyes and no cause of death?" Cooper sighed, looking at the board at the most wanted list. "Donald Ressler."

"But why would Ressler kill Richardson and his men?" Aram pondered. "He wasn't into arms dealing and drug trafficking, was he? There's no way he saw Richardson as competition."

"The men we found were surrounding a cabin and there were signs around the property telling people to stay away." Samar said. "I think they found his hideout and he wasn't too happy with a bunch of men armed to the teeth dropping by. The front of the cabin was also riddled with bullet holes."

"We counted twenty bodies here, but there were only three vehicles." Meera added. "We're thinking Ressler took one and..." she trailed off.

"..Took Agent Keen with him…" Aram finished with anxiety.

"Is there any proof of Keen having been there?" Cooper asked.

"We found her clothes hanging above the sink - also covered in bullet holes. Although we couldn't find her gun, her badge, or her ID." Samar said.

"So we have a terrorist out there who managed to kill twenty armed men by himself and is holding an FBI agent hostage, along with having her credentials." Cooper said gruffly.

Aram looked away worriedly as the women stayed silent.

"Find me that vehicle." Cooper ordered.

After two movies, Liz felt herself getting drowsy. She blamed it on the food, the beers, and the comfort that was so rare for her. Upon seeing Ressler's head bob, trying to fight sleep for the third time, she was about to suggest heading to bed when the doorbell rang. He quickly became much more alert as she stood to answer the door. Liz opened the door to find Reddington standing at the doorstep with Dembe behind him. Red gave her a smile and held up some bags of Chinese food.

"I brought dinner," he said, walking past her and heading straight for the kitchen and depositing the bags on the counter.

Liz's eyes widened, a bit annoyed that he stopped somewhere to pick up something unnecessary, but still grateful that he was being thoughtful.

"We already ate," she said as she and Dembe trailed quickly behind him.

"'We'?" He asked as he put his hat down on the counter.

Turning around, his eyes widened when he noticed the other man standing in the living room.

"Ressler, this is—"

Liz's words caught in her throat as she turned around and saw Ressler pointing a gun at Reddington with an icy scowl.

"Raymond Reddington." He said bitterly.

Dembe pulled a gun himself and pointed it at the man he considered a threat.

"Oh, Lizzie.." Reddington said grimly. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"You know him?" Liz asked Ressler, shocked at the cold glare he was giving the older man.

"I'm not gonna forget the man I hunted down for more than five years."

"Lizzie, you may want to amend your welcome wagon," He said with a smug grin, looking at Ressler. "Considering you had me rush over here, and I had the courtesy to bring you dinner."

"This is the help you called for, Keen? A criminal on the most wanted list?" He spat.

Reddington scoffed, "Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black? I'm quite sure your little episode knocked me right out of the bureau's spotlight."

Ressler tightened his gaze, completely ignoring Liz and Dembe, who still had his gun aimed at Ressler's head.

"A lot of big fish went belly-up when you left this political swamp, Donald." He said smoothly. "You're quite the wanted man."

"That's enough!" Liz yelled. "Put the guns down." She glared at Ressler and Dembe.

"Lizzie, I'm sure you know about your new friend here. How we'd all be dead by now if he weren't suddenly so...flaccid." Reddington turned his eye towards Ressler. "Why is that, anyways? Run out of juice in the middle of the woods?"

Ressler's eyes grew in shock. "You knew where I was?"

"Of course. You kept an eye on me for more than five years - or at least you tried. It only seemed fair to return the favor. Especially since you've caused quite the commotion."

Ressler walked closer, his jaw clenched and his brows stitched tightly. The gun he held moved closer, only a few inches from Reddington's calm, smug face. Liz quickly stepped in front of him, holding the hand that held his gun.

"Ressler, please." She said calmly. "Right now, he's the only one who can help."

He looked down at her blue eyes, both resolute and imploring. Ressler was surprised at how quickly he lowered his gun after seeing that look. She nodded at him, seemingly thankful. He then noticed how close she was standing, and quickly took a step back, instead focusing his glare at the back of Reddington's head as the older man began pulling out boxes of food from the bags he brought.

"You know what's going on?" Liz asked Reddington, surprised then quickly berating herself for not thinking the man didn't know. He knew everything.

"I know what he's capable of. But tell me what happened to Richardson."

"He kidnapped me..but I got away...until I had an accident near the woods. I ran from him until he got too close to Ressler and he died. Ressler saved me from Richardson. From freezing to death and again when Richardson's men came after me."

"I see." Reddington said.

"So you understand? You'll help us?" She asked.

"What exactly do you mean by, 'us'?"

Liz took a glance at Ressler, who was staring grumpily at the floor. "I'm not sure how, but...we're connected. Whatever he has that's been killing people - it goes away when I'm near him."

She couldn't read Reddington's expression as he was turned away from them, but he stayed silent as he apparently took a moment to think.

"So," Reddington said suddenly. "What exactly is it you need help with?"

"We need somewhere to lay low. And for you to keep the task force off of us. They still think I'm missing, and I'm sure they still think Ressler is a terrorist."

"Do you ?" Reddington asked, neatly piling the boxes of food.

"Do I what?" Liz asked.

"Do you think he's a terrorist?" He asked as he turned around to face them.

She turned to see Ressler looking her right in the eye then looked back at Reddington, who stood smiling pompously.

"No." She said sincerely. "He saved my life three times and he did everything he could to stay away from people so that he wouldn't kill them."

"Wonderful!" He beamed. "Give me two days and I'll find you a place to stay. In the meantime, stay here. Make no contact with the taskforce and I'll keep them off your trail."

"Thank you." She said gratefully.

He nodded, glancing at Ressler then back at her. He stepped past them and put his hat back on, heading towards the door.

"We'll be in touch. Good night Lizzie, Donald." He promptly walked out the door with Dembe following him.

Liz sighed and sat on a stool by the counter, feeling drained by the interaction.

"How is it that you know Raymond Reddington?" Ressler asked, genuinely curious but she could still see a hint of anger in his eyes.

She looked at him, considering how much she wanted to to divulge.

Screw it, he's already a fugitive.

"Main Justice made a deal with him. His immunity for information on high value targets. I'm part of the taskforce that conducts operations to capture those targets."

Ressler scoffed. "Raymond Reddington's a C.I. for the bureau? You gotta be kidding me."

"Wish I was." She smirked. "He's certainly different from other C.I.'s I've worked with."

"I don't doubt it."

"Well, we should get some rest." She said, standing up and stretching. "Although, I'm not too sure we're going to have much to do for the next two days."

She began putting away the boxes of food in the fridge while he turned the TV off and cleaned up the plates they'd used. She felt oddly domestic about the situation, as if he was completely comfortable with the place. She then noticed his pensive face as he dried his hands with the towel on his shoulder.

"Something up?" She broached curiously.

He glanced at her and shook his head. "Nothing."

"You know I'm a profiler, right?" She smirked.

"Are you?"

"Yeah, and I can tell you've got something on your mind."

He sighed, knowing there was no chance of him hiding much from her at the moment. "Reddington."

"I told you, he's the only one who can—"

"I get that." He interrupted. "I'm not too thrilled about it, but I accept it. What I don't understand is why he wants to help me."

Liz began wondering that herself.

He's right. Red's got no reason to help him, except maybe...me.

"I mean, I hunted the guy down for more than five years. I made it my life's goal to put him away. And now he just agrees to help me just like that? I don't trust it…" he rants.

"Ressler…" she began apprehensively. "I've worked with him for a while now and from what I've seen in the past three years...criminal or not, he does good things too. We've stopped drug rings, human traffickers, terrorists…a lot of that good came from his intel."

She wasn't sure why she was defending him. God knows the man certainly wasn't a saint. But she somehow felt obligated to show Reddington in a better light than others saw him in.

"And in any of those cases, can you say that he didn't benefit from removing the competition of his criminal empire?" He argued.

Liz remained silent.

He sighed, his shoulders dropped and seemed to resign his venting. "Look, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It's just..hard to wrap my head around the fact that Raymond Reddington is my only chance at not going to prison and he does nothing to hold it over my head."

"That's your FBI training talking to you."

"Yeah, well, it's all I've got. I'd be an idiot not to listen to it."

"Hey." She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "You've got me too." She smiled.

He gave her a half grin and chuckled. "Give it time. You'll get sick of me soon."

"Oh, I don't know...You're not so bad." She said, nudging his shoulder.

Reddington sat solemnly in the back of his car as Dembe drove. He pulled out a phone and punched in a number.

"Baz. I need you to gather some men and watch over Elizabeth's home. Anyone comes in or out, you let me know." He hung up and sighed, leaning back on the seat.

"Are you going to tell her, Raymond?" Dembe asked, eyeing him through the rear view mirror.

"Not right now."

"She's bound to find out. And when she does, she won't be happy." The younger man stated.

"This is the only way to protect her." He said grimly. "For now, we do what she says."