"Ressler!"
Liz leaned down to Ressler as he lay trapped on the ground under the tree. He couldn't lay his head down like that. He'd drown in the small river of water that was running under him.
"Lift your head up!" she shouted at him.
"Trying..." he panted.
He was trying to, but only managing to hold his head up a couple of inches at best. The water ran by his cheek, as he struggled to keep his head above it. He didn't know what was wrong. Well, apart from the fact he was laying in the mud with a tree on top of him, he thought. He was feeling light headed and Liz looked blurry to him - and not just with the downpour.
She flung her backpack off now. Lifting his head, she wedged it under him. It would keep his head out of the water for now.
It was getting harder to breathe, and Ressler finally realized the weight of the tree had shifted, settling more into the wet ground. Pain settled further into his torso as the tree slowly crushed him. The pressure was increasing on him now, making it harder for him to expand his chest to inhale. Concentrating on taking in a breath, his lungs could not inflate enough now. Panic rose at the feeling of suffocating, but with an effort he squashed it down. Focus! Panicking would not help right now.
He opened his mouth to tell her, but she had seen the tree subside into the ground a little more, and already knew. She jumped to her feet, struggling to lift the heavy limb. It was no use, her hands couldn't get a good enough grip and when she did, she slipped on the wet ground. It was too heavy.
"I need to go and get Dembe!" She almost added 'stay here!' before realizing how stupid that was.
"No!...need to do... NOW!" he panted, reaching out to her. He would suffocate very soon if she took too long.
"How are we going to do that?!" she shouted desperately, dropping to her knees in front of him again, not even realizing she'd taken hold of his hand as a thunderclap rumbled overhead.
Sheer determination, he thought, and pointed to a thick branch lying on the ground next to Jessie Cole's body. At least, he thought it was a thick branch. It could have been a boa constrictor as blurred as his vision was getting.
"Leverage!" he panted, closing his eyes against a wave of pain and dizziness. Trees weren't supposed to spin like that.
She rose to her feet, retrieving the broken branch hurriedly. He gathered his elbows close as he could, ready to move. Taking in the biggest breath he could manage, he again squashed down the rising panic when his chest couldn't take in any more than a shallow breath. Don't think about that! Focus on lifting this damn thing off you, he told himself.
Finding a spot under the limb that was pinning him, she positioned the branch. "Go!" she yelled at him, and pushed as hard as she could under the tree, using her makeshift lever.
At her shout, he gasped, trying to push his body up with all his might as pain flared across his back. Nothing happened. He kept his eyes closed, unable to handle the ground spinning. His chest was burning under the weight of the tree and the decrease in oxygen. Don't you dare pass out! He told himself, willing himself to stay awake.
Liz pushed on the lever even more feeling her muscles strain, watching the branch she was pushing slide into the ground a couple of inches. "Dammit! Move!" she screamed at the tree, pushing as hard as she could.
Ressler dug in and pushed his back up with all his might, afraid he would feel his ribs break under the pressure. He kept pushing, his eyes still shut against the dizziness and pain, his need for air driving him on. Liz put even more pressure on the tree, and imperceptibly, the limb trapping him moved a couple of inches. As it did so, his lungs expanded and he sucked in air, feeling a bittersweet mix of fresh air and searing pain as his chest expanded. He cried out at the sudden surge of pain, and on hearing that Liz kept pushing. She had a start now and kept the momentum going, moving the tree another inch or so.
Feeling the tree limb move again, he struggled in the limited space. Dragging himself by his hands, he pushed with his feet as Liz continued holding the branch a few inches off him. Grabbing handfuls of grass and dirt, he dragged himself slowly forward until his torso was finally free of it. Scrambling the last few inches, he rolled onto his back, swinging his legs free of the tree.
He lay there in the mud, eyes closed, feeling the rain fall on his face as his chest heaved. Breathing never felt so good - and so bad. His chest was on fire. He couldn't feel any ribs moving out of place, but was pretty sure he'd cracked a couple.
Liz dropped the tree as soon as he was clear and ran to his side. "Are you okay?" she shouted worriedly over the sound of the rain. She looked him over, not that she could see anything in the dark afternoon under his muddy clothes, and looked at his pale face again.
His breaths were calming down now, much to her relief. Opening his eyes, he looked at her leaning over him, before closing them against the rain falling in his face. He nodded, trying to reassure her. "I will be," was all he said.
With his breathing steadying now and the dizziness fading fast, he rolled onto one elbow, grimacing at the pain in his chest. Rising to his knees now, she helped him up, hearing the involuntary gasp of pain from him.
"Let's get out from under these trees. And away from him…" She added, indicating Jessie Cole's body. He leaned down to Jessie's body then, ignoring his ribs, checked for a pulse and found none. As he straightened, he took in their surroundings - not that he could see much. Visibility was extremely low in the downpour. He was beginning to think it would never stop raining, a thought that Liz echoed. They were so soaked through now, it hardly bothered them to stand out in it longer.
As she stepped away toward the house, he grabbed at her arm, pulling her back. "The sniper!" he looked over to the large building now, almost expecting to see bullets flying.
She turned to him and shook her head. "Dembe got him," she said, smiling at his expression.
She reached down and retrieved her backpack, and motioned toward the cabin again. "Come on, let's get inside and get you checked out."
"I'm fine…" he started to tell her, but she stopped him with 'the look'. If there was one thing she knew about Ressler, it was that he'd keep telling her he was fine until he dropped.
They immediately felt the heavier rain on them as they cleared the trees and went out into the open again. They walked beside each other with heads down, watching where they stepped. It was impossible to step anywhere that wasn't flooded. All they could do was try to avoid the deeper rivers flowing along the ground. It was alarming how much water had accumulated everywhere. The only redeeming thing about the heavy rain was that it was doing a brilliant job of washing the mud off him, thought Ressler.
He took a slight detour as they approached the van, looking at the shot out drivers window, and the mess of broken glass and water everywhere inside. "Damn..." he cursed, shaking his head.
Liz was beside him again. "Yeah...I was standing right where you are when he fired that shot."
He quickly looked at her, and shook his head again. "What is he doing here..." he wondered.
"Red knows him," she told him now, as they left the side of the van and walked to the steps on the front porch.
That surprised Ressler. "He knows him? From where?" he asked her.
They stood on the porch now, out of most of the rain at last. "I don't know. I missed that part, because Red then told me you had gone running out into the storm to help me," she said, looking up at him and meeting his eyes. And yet she had been the one who had helped him. Some Boy Scout, he thought.
He turned and looked out at the storm again, lightning illuminating his face. "There is no way we can get off this mountain tonight, Liz. Which means we're about to spend a 'lovely' evening up here."
She looked around, knowing he was right. "Well, that's only fair, after our lovely picnic," she added, grinning, to which he gave her his signature half smile. Opening the door for her, she stepped into the cabin. He took a last look outside before following her in, feeling a low sense of dread starting in the pit of his stomach.
###
Reddington really wasn't sure where he'd got all his medical know-how from. Years of being in strange situations, probably. He'd patched up bullet wounds, knife slashes, gouges, scrapes, and set bones frequently. He could even set legs on fire in glass boxes if the need arose. He was no doctor, but in a field situation, he was a handy guy to have around if you happened to get shot.
As Jeremy Cole was finding out, reluctantly.
Cole hadn't been knocked out for very long; waking up only a few minutes after Ressler flew out the back door. Red had been ready for him. The first thing Jeremy had seen as he opened his eyes was Reddington holding a gun on him – his own gun.
And now Red was leaning over the man, attempting to dress the wound on his head – because that's what you do when someone is bleeding in front of you.
"Keep still, Jeremy," said Red again, looking at Cole. "You stood perfectly still outside the front door and look where it landed you. So you can keep still for me now." He smiled then, that Reddington charm ever present.
"I don't need your help," Cole told him, staring into Red's eyes.
"The blood all over your kitchen table would indicate otherwise."
Cole stared at him then looked back up at the kitchen ceiling as he lay on the table. He was in no mood to argue, not with the massive headache he had woken up with.
Having found a rudimentary First Aid kit in one of the kitchen drawers, Red busied himself with dressing the head wound - using up most of the gauze and bandages in the process. He was just wrapping a long bandage around Cole's head to keep the dressing in place when he heard the front door open. Grabbing the gun, he stood up, aiming it at the kitchen door.
Dembe had been guarding their sniper friend and was closer to the kitchen door. He motioned to Red to lower the weapon when he saw it was okay.
Red had lowered the weapon by the time Liz and Ressler walked in to join them. Dembe handed each of them a towel which they gratefully took, drying their faces and hair off now.
Red looked from Ressler to Liz. "Glad to see you two finally found each other." He said with a knowing smirk. Ressler scowled and ignored Red's remark before turning to the man cuffed to the chair near Dembe.
"Who are you? And why are you here?" he asked the gunman pointedly.
The man looked at him silently, gave Ressler a hint of a smile, then dropped his gaze. Appearing almost bored, he stared at the floor.
"I can answer that for you Donald," said Red from behind him. "Meet Liev Rostov, one of the best snipers in the business.
Ressler glanced at Red, and sighed heavily, suddenly wincing at the flare of pain that produced across his torso. "Enlighten us Red. Tell us what you know, since Liev here apparently isn't talking."
Red looked at Ressler, hesitating a moment. "Donald, this man was sent here to finish the job that started with poor Meera, and almost took Harold. He's still working down that list. And I'm telling you in no uncertain terms, if it were not for this storm interfering with his aim, both of you would be dead right now," he told them, looking at them both with concern.
The low grade feeling of dread in Ressler's stomach moved up a notch. He looked over at Jeremy Cole lying on the kitchen table, now realizing the bullet that grazed Cole's skull had been meant for him. He looked at Liz, clenching his teeth now. They had been played, all right. This entire charade had been to get them up on this mountain. The only thing he didn't know yet was how much of this Red knew about before hand, or if he been played right along with them.
###
An hour later, Dembe had managed to rustle up a meager meal from supplies found in the kitchen. He couldn't use much from the fridge, with the power being off for hours. It wasn't much, but it helped somewhat. They were still in the kitchen, since none of them felt like sitting in the flooded living room with Jacob Cole's body occupying the middle of the floor. They had found candles and a hurricane lamp, and the kitchen was well lit in the soft glow. It actually felt rather cozy. They kept one candle near the door for bathroom visits, to light the way down the hall.
Jeremy Cole had been cuffed to a chair, and hadn't eaten a bite, nor had he even complained that they were eating his food. An hour earlier, Ressler had informed him that his brother Jessie was dead, and Jeremy hadn't even reacted to that news. He hadn't said a word in the hour since though, which in a way, was a reaction. Ressler actually felt a momentary pang of sympathy for the guy when he told him. He'd lost two brothers in just a few hours.
Likewise, Liev just looked away with disinterest and ignored the meal, also sitting silently on his chair.
Liz finished her meal and stood up to throw her paper plate in the trash. She put her hand on Dembe's arm. "Thank you Dembe. You're a gem." He looked at her calmly and thanked her in his soft voice.
Ressler's food was sticking in his throat at every bite, but he forced it down. He had no appetite, but knew he had to eat. Nodding his thanks to Dembe, he rose from his chair, hiding the pain that produced. The knot in his stomach was growing and he needed to clear his head. He quickly checked the cuffs on both men, glanced at Liz, and left the room.
Liz looked up as he left, recognizing the look in his eyes. He needed some space right now, and she gave it to him, turning her attention to Red.
"Are you going to let me dress that arm for you now?" she asked, though her tone implied she wasn't really asking.
Red smiled at her. "Lizzie, it's just a flesh wound. I'm fine."
"I swear, if one more stubborn male tells me they're fine..." she said briskly, then stopped. She looked up at Red more gently now. "Just let me see if I can clean it at least, okay?"
He regarded her a moment. And mainly because he could never say 'no' to that look in her eyes, he relented and rolled up his bloodied shirt sleeve. She moved one of the candles closer, leaned over and looked at the wound, but there was far too much dried blood on it now. Moving to the sink, she filled a bowl with water and then proceeded to gently wash the dried blood from his arm. Red watched her, her head bowed over his arm as she worked, and smiled.
Dembe watched his boss from the other side of the room. Raymond had hurt her deeply when she had found out about Sam, and he had wondered if this was all over. And yet...here she was, tending to him.
Finishing cleaning the blood away, Liz shone her small flashlight on it and got a better look at the wound now. The bullet had gone right through, so it was clean in the sense there was no bullet lodged in his forearm. There were clear entry and exit wounds, and while the exit wound probably needed stitches, her dressing would have to do. Reaching for the small First Aid kit, she found some antiseptic powder and sprinkled it over the two holes in his arm. Red hissed at that and she looked up at him.
"Sorry." The wounds were still bleeding, and slowly seeping out. Searching through the depleted first aid kit, she found one solitary piece of gauze large enough to cover both wounds with. She dressed it as best she could before finishing up by wrapping a bandage around his arm, holding the dressing in place.
"There, much better," she said, looking up at him.
"Thank you Lizzie," he returned, rolling his sleeve back down.
Liev spoke up from the other side of the room. "Touching," he said sarcastically. "Don't get too comfortable with your pet FBI agents around, Reddington. They never know when they might find their throats cut too," he said, his eyes boring into Reds.
Liz drew in her breath at that, remembering the horror of Meera bleeding out.
Red's face hardened as he turned to the Russian. He regarded him silently and intently. Beside him, Liz swallowed hard. She had seen that look on Red before - when he had calmly watched Gloriana Campo die, and when he had spoken to Stanley Kornish before pushing him into the acid bath. It was the flip side to Red's charm - the side that reminded her that this man could indeed become a monster. It was Red's 'when the time is right, I will kill you' look.
###
Liz left the kitchen, and after a visit to the bathroom, set out to find her partner. He wasn't in the living room, though she hadn't expected him to be. Stepping out the front door, she saw his silhouette in a lightning flash as he stood at the end of the porch, hands in his pockets. She walked up behind him, and he turned his head a little to acknowledge her presence.
"Figured it out yet?" she asked him, standing beside him at the railing now, facing the trees. She didn't need to know which specific thing he was figuring out, just that he'd needed some time alone to think.
He smiled a little and dropped his gaze, glancing sideways at her. She could read him like a book. He returned his gaze to the trees. "The storm is moving out." he said, and she looked up at the sky then. He was right, the intensity of the rain had dropped, and the thunder had quite a lag behind the lightning now. She looked at the ground in the next lightning flash, and saw the flooding hadn't dropped though. Everything was still underwater.
"How are we going to get out of here?" she asked him.
"I'm thinking we use the surveillance van as a prison transport. We can cuff Liev and Cole to the two fixed seats in the back. Red and Dembe follow in their vehicle. The biggest concern isn't getting down the mountain though. It's what's waiting for us at the bottom," he said, turning to face her then.
She nodded, knowing what he meant. "The river will be overflowing the banks. The bridge is probably under water."
"Or washed away," he added. She hadn't wanted to voice that fear, but knew he was right. The bridge could be completely gone.
"There will be trees down everywhere, blocking the road on the way down. We'll have to get through those too," she said, considering her recent attempt at moving just one large tree limb a few inches.
"We also have no cell signal. I already checked the van, and it's not sending or receiving any signal either. Whatever cell towers were in this area are down for sure. Struck by lightning and fried." He turned and leaned against the rail now, facing along the porch toward the front door. "We're on our own Liz. Even if Aram figures out where we are, it will take time to get a chopper up here. And the only place it could land is right out there in front of the vehicles, and it's a quagmire."
"So the question is, do we hole up here, or attempt to get down..." she said.
"Exactly..."
"I think we're safer here, to be honest. At least we have a roof over our heads," she said, looking at the rain still falling outside the covered porch.
"I know, but our best shot at getting a phone signal is at the base of the mountain closer to town," he said, looking at the pros and cons to both sides.
"Maybe things will be a bit clearer in the light of day. But for now, let's get back inside where it's a bit warmer," she said, shivering now as a breeze blew across them. They were both still in wet clothes and the temperature was dropping as night fell.
He was looking over at the two outer buildings, not quite ready to head in. "What was in the buildings, did you get to see?"
"A couple of vehicles. One looked old and run down and not likely to run. The other was a pick up truck that looked fairly decent. There was a large tractor mower too. I didn't get a good look, but there were tools on one wall," she said, recalling the dimly lit buildings.
"A mower, huh? That could work..." He mused, wanting to check out the contents of the buildings as soon as morning came.
###
The evening wore on, and while they mainly congregated in the dimly lit kitchen, they also explored the rest of the house. There were three bedrooms upstairs, and a guest room downstairs. They agreed to take turns guarding their prisoners but as it turned out, Dembe had assigned himself that task.
Liz was still trying to reason with him. "Dembe, you need some sleep too. So how about you take the first watch from midnight till 3am. Then we can take the second watch from 3am till 6am. It will be dawn then, and we can take a look outside and see…if we're getting out of here."
In the end she wasn't sure if he agreed or not, but was determined she and Ressler would take the second watch. Though looking across at Ressler, she didn't think he'd sleep anyway. He'd been prowling like a caged bear since they got back inside. For her part though, she was exhausted and needed a couple of hours of sleep. There was something she wanted to do first though. She motioned to Ressler, and he followed her down the hallway and into the guest room.
"I'm going to grab a couple of hours sleep, but before I do, we need to look at your ribs to see if any are broken…" she said quietly, knowing he wouldn't want Red or the others to hear that.
He looked down at her silently, and shook his head. Of course his ribs were cracked and hurt like hell, but there was nothing that could be done. She gave him an exasperated look.
"Let me guess. You're fine."
He smiled at her now, and nodded. "Liz, there is nothing you can do. They are cracked, yes, but my vest is tight around me keeping them in place. Best compression bandage money can buy." He grinned at that, trying to put her mind at ease.
She held the candle close to his middle now, looking at the vest, and reluctantly knew he was right. Something glinted in the candle light and she moved her fingers to his left side, touching something hard in his vest.
"This is a bullet!" she looked up at him now.
"Oh, yeah, courtesy of Jeremy Cole," he said, sharply drawing in a breath as she pressed too hard. She didn't need to be poking around like that, making him hurt more. He reached up to remove her hand from his side, but she dropped her hand now, realizing she was hurting him.
"Why did he shoot you?"
"Because I wanted him to think I was dead," he said calmly, his eyes shining in the candle light as she looked up quickly at that.
"What?!"
He smiled at her. "Oh, relax Liz, my plan worked perfectly. Well… until Liev showed up."
Sleep could wait for a bit. This, she needed to hear. "Sit down, and tell me everything that happened after I got out of the van."
He sat on a recliner, gingerly easing himself into it as she placed the candle by the bed. She kicked off her shoes and socks, then sat back on some plumped up pillows. He started to tell her what happened after he had let her out into the rain storm.
It didn't take too long, and he finished up with, "and next thing I knew, I heard the shot and thought I was dead, but it was you firing at Jessie Cole."
She returned the favor then, and told her how she had met Dembe in the large building, and how they had seen the sleeping man they now knew was Liev.
"How was he asleep in all that noise?" Ressler asked her, leaning his head forward off the back of the recliner, trying to figure that one out.
"Meditation maybe…" she wondered sleepily.
"Maybe…" Whatever it was, he didn't like the man being up here, knowing what his mission was. He looked over at her and could see her eyes drooping now.
"Get some rest Liz, and I'll wake you when it's our turn to relieve Dembe," he said, and made a move to get out of the chair – a move that made him catch his breath as his ribs complained loudly.
"Stay here…" she said sleepily, closing her eyes as she lay down on top of the covers now, drawing a blanket over her damp clothing. "Please…" she said as she drifted off to sleep, feeling safer with him there.
And he stayed there with her, settling back in the recliner, his mind unable to shut down while she slept.
###
Just before 3am Ressler quickly turned off his alarm before it could wake Liz, and went to check on Dembe and Red. Walking silently through the strange house, he drew his weapon out of instinct. He had his gun in his hand as he entered the kitchen, but saw that all was calm. Dembe looked up silently as Ressler entered the room, and nodded. Red was doing a crossword puzzle sitting at the table, while Dembe was ever vigilant, keeping Liev's rifle on the two cuffed men.
"Everything is okay, Agent Ressler," said Dembe softly.
"Donald, nice of you to join us. I believe it's your turn now, though I doubt Dembe is going to give up his position."
"I don't sleep much. You may as well grab a couple of hours," Ressler told the man, but Dembe shook his head.
"You see?" smiled Red knowingly. "I've known this man to stay awake for days, and look none the worse for it. I on the other hand, well, at some point I do need my beauty sleep."
Ressler looked at him, and gave Red his half smile at that. The thought of Red needing 'beauty sleep' struck him as amusing. Perhaps because it was 3am and everything seems weirder and funnier in the middle of the night.
"Well, go take the recliner in the guest room and grab a couple of hours. I'll stay here with Dembe." He didn't add that Liz would feel safer waking up to someone there with her. And as Red got up and headed to the guest room, it suddenly struck Ressler how strange that was. How much things really had changed. He had just sent his greatest enemy (who he knew was no longer his greatest enemy) to 'guard' his … best friend. He sat down at the kitchen table then, thinking. Liz really was his best friend. It only took being stranded in the middle of nowhere at 3am to realize that.
He looked over to Liev and Jeremy again. Jeremy was awake, calmly looking at the light rain hitting the window. Ressler wondered again how the guy could look that calm with two of his brothers dead. Liev was actually asleep in his chair. The man could apparently sleep anywhere. Ressler envied him.
Reddington had been right - as usual. In his note to him, when he'd sent his 'gift' of Tanida's head, he had told him 'there will be nightmares'. And he'd been right, and after too many nightmares to count, Ressler simply stopped sleeping as much. Dreams didn't come as often when you slept from sheer exhaustion.
So he stayed awake, something he'd become very good at in the months since Audrey had died. He did some of Red's crossword puzzle, tried his phone for a signal a few times, looked in on Liz on the bed and Red asleep in the recliner, and slowly, the light changed outside. The long night was over, and it was time to decide how they were going to get off this mountain.