Raymond Reddington was one of those men who could turn his hand to anything, given the opportunity. It had served him well in the Navy, and resulted in him being on a sure course for Admiral. Until he'd walked away from all that, of course. In the ensuing two decades, he had been in many tough situations. With a little ingenuity, a lot of patience, and a lot of resources (built up over years of being owed favors), he'd got by pretty well. He was accustomed to having a private jet with a satellite phone and spending time in mansions and villas all over the world. But he was also just as at home hiding out in a ghetto, if need be.
So he really wasn't all that fazed at their recent turn of events on this mountain for the past 36 hours, with another long night ahead of them. It seemed almost perfectly natural to Red to be sitting in a 'stolen' pickup truck fiddling with the cheap CB radio, while a raging river surged by right outside his windshield. He moved the dial to the next channel, listening, pressing the mic and trying again to raise someone who might be able to help them.
The driver door opened and Ressler stood there, looking in questioningly. Red looked at the agent in the light from the cab, noticing how pale and drawn he was starting to look. Paler than usual, even for Donald.
"Any luck?" asked Ressler, nodding to the radio.
"Well, if you're referring to the lovely proposition I received from a young lady who apparently has a thing for old men and shoes, and a rather confused gentleman who thought I was his long lost uncle Jim, then yes." Red smiled congenially.
Ressler just looked at Red evenly. "I mean have you got anyone who might be able to get word out for us?"
"I know what you mean Donald. I am moving up the dial, and will let you know if I get anything. In the meantime, how are our two half drowned gentlemen out there doing?" Both men looked toward the two men they'd just rescued from the churning river.
"They seem fine. I don't..." he hesitated, looking away, not sure he wanted to admit this to Red, but looked back at the man and plowed on anyway. "I don't actually know what to do with them, or Jeremy Cole anymore, for that matter. We're stuck here. All of us. Do we keep them all at gunpoint..." he looked at Red, actually wanting his input.
"Maybe a truce is in order, since we're all in this together," suggested Red, and Ressler scowled at the thought. No way was he doing that.
Red was turning the dial to next channel, and a recording started playing, cutting in and out at intervals.
This is Harrisonburg Emergency Servi... in need of assistance contact the Harrisonburg Police department on channel nine ... in the vicinity of downtown Harrisonbur... been closed. A curfew is in place. Only emergency perso... if you are in need of assistance contact the Harrisonburg...
Ressler shook his head. For some reason he hadn't thought of the effect this storm had been having on the town. "Sounds bad down there..." he said, looking at the radio as Red turned it to channel nine. He handed the mic to Ressler.
"Perhaps the local police department might listen to the FBI more than someone's long lost uncle Jim," said Red, smiling.
Ressler took the mic and spoke into it, raising his voice above the roar of the river. "This is Special Agent Donald Ressler with the FBI, Washington DC Field Office. We are currently located at the base of the mountains north of the town of Harrisonburg. We are in need of assistance." He released the mic button, and they listened for a reply.
Nothing.
Ressler hadn't been sure what he'd expected, maybe some harassed officer on the front desk trying to deal with a hundred calls at once just like theirs. But nothing was disappointing.
He handed the mic back to Red. "Keep trying." He turned to leave, and then looked back. "Pretend you're me, if you think it would help."
"Oh, I don't have the hair for that, Donald," quipped Red. He looked at the agent, with his wet hair plastered to his forehead in a most un-Ressler like manner. "Though right now, nor do you," he added, smiling.
He rolled his eyes at Red, before leaving and walking back toward Liz.
###
Liz was helping their second half drowned guy up to his feet. Dembe was up now, and seemed none the worse for his close call with drowning in the river that churned by them. She steadied the guy, and asked him his name.
"Eric..." he coughed again, leaning against Liz. He was young, maybe 25, and looked almost like a little kid as scared as he was at his near death in the river. He looked appreciatively over at Dembe, who had reached out his arm to steady the young man, before looking back at Liz. "Eric Townsend. But everyone calls me ET." He said over the roar of the river, as Liz started leading him away from the waters edge.
Ressler approached them and after making sure the guy was doing okay, he drew Liz aside. She looked into his eyes, seeing the pain in them. He really isn't doing so good, she thought to herself.
"You okay?"
He nodded. "Just tired." he told her, before leading her up the roadway a little, away from the others. "So, obviously we're not getting out of here tonight, so our best option is heading back up to the cabin..."
Liz completed the sentence for him. "And you're not sure what we do with these two guys. Are they our prisoners, or our... guests."
He looked at her standing in the glow of the headlights, soaking wet like they all were, the river behind her. "Exactly."
"One's just a kid...I'm not sure he's much threat to us. And Phil, well, he and Jeremy have been talking over there, but right now, I feel that Jeremy Cole is the main threat."
"And that could be our downfall, to be lulled into a false sense of security with them. And no, I don't trust Jeremy at all," agreed Ressler, looking at Jeremy over Liz's shoulder now.
"So we need to keep Jeremy under wraps, but maybe let Eric and Phil be for now until we know otherwise?" she said to him, watching his eyes narrow as he looked at Jeremy.
He looked down at her again. "Red suggested a truce... " He paused momentarily, closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness passed over him. She looked worriedly at him. He opened his eyes again, the dizzy moment passing. "But I don't know about that... I don't see Jeremy adhering to a truce..."
"Dembe still has the rifle in the tractor mower. Let's have him get it and he can take over guarding Jeremy for the night. He seems to like that job," she said, and looked over at the black man, who was still assisting Eric.
"Okay, go talk to him," he asked her, again closing his eyes as another wave of dizziness passed over him.
"Ress? You okay?" She looked up at him worriedly, putting her hand on his right arm now.
He opened his eyes quickly. "Yeah," he told her, not wanting her to fuss. Not when they had other things on their mind right now.
"You're in a lot of pain...have you still got the aspirin?" she asked him.
"Yeah, I'll take some, thanks." He didn't tell her they made him feel nauseous taking them on an empty stomach and did very little to stop the pain.
She squeezed his right arm, looked worriedly at him, then headed over to talk to Dembe. Ressler stood there, his dizzy spell passing now. He thought back in his mind to the last time he'd slept – ignoring the exhausted, drug induced 40 minutes he'd got while holding Liz at the bottom of the ridge. It was Tuesday night, maybe… or was it Monday? And it's Saturday night now, he told himself. He really needed some sleep.
Dembe accepted his guard duties readily, and as he and Ressler approached Jeremy, the man held his hands out in mock surrender.
"Wondered how long it would take you to put me under armed guard again." The cuffs had been on his right wrist the entire time, since he'd run from their surveillance van and all Ressler had to do was recuff his left wrist, keeping Jeremy's hands in front of him.
"Oh, come on FBI, is that really necessary?" exclaimed Phil, looking from Jeremy to Ressler.
"Yes, it is," he told the man, and looked back to Jeremy. "Isn't that right Cole?"
Jeremy Cole looked calmly at him, and nodded. "It's okay Phil. The man's just doing his job."
Ressler didn't trust Jeremy Cole when he was being calm. He nodded to Dembe, who kept the rifle on Jeremy, and then asked Phil to come with him. Phil looked from Jeremy to Dembe, shook his head and reluctantly followed Ressler. They walked over to Liz and Eric, the young man having regained some of his composure now.
"You okay, ET?" asked Phil, and Eric nodded.
Ressler looked at Eric, or ET as he liked to be called, and found himself wishing ET really could call home and get them all off this damned mountain.
###
They left the river, making their way back up the mountain road again. Dembe and Jeremy sat outside in the cab, Dembe keeping the rifle on their prisoner again. Red drove the pickup with Ressler in the passenger seat. Ressler was really starting to hate sitting in the passenger seat. It invariably meant he was incapacitated in some way. Though I should be used to that by now, he thought ruefully. Eric and Phil sat in the back seat of the pickup, while Liz led the way driving the tractor mower again. She had insisted that was the best place for her, and looking at the seating arrangements, Ressler had to agree.
With the lights from the tractor mower lighting their way and maneuvering around the cut trees on the road, they steadily made their way up the mountain again. The rain was still holding off, and Ressler looked out the window, leaning on the headrest as they drove up. A few stars were actually shining through the breaks in the clouds. The treetops that he could see were still, thankfully, with not a breeze in sight. He closed his eyes, and could almost have fallen asleep right there, before he quickly opened them again.
They passed the crushed surveillance van and Red's car, and Ressler once again refused to look at Liev's body. Liz led the way around them and gradually made their way to the cliffs. The waterfall had stopped flowing, and she dropped the blade and moved some of the fresh debris from the road as they followed. Turning back to the left above the cliffs, they at last came to the driveway to the cabin. Standing water was on the sides of the road, and Liz pushed on through it, the tractor lurching to one side as she made her way through the ditch. She continued down the driveway around the piles of trees they had cut aside, coming to a stop in front of the large outbuilding.
Red followed her in the pick up, and made his way across the ditch at the head of the driveway. Ressler stifled a cry of pain as the truck lurched across the ditch. Fifteen minutes after they had left the roaring river below them they pulled up in front of the cabin, parking in two inches of water on the ground.
"Well gentlemen, here we are," Red said pleasantly, looking in the back to Phil and Eric. They looked at the dark cabin, and Phil nodded to Eric that it was okay, and they got out of the truck. Liz was walking over to them, through areas of standing water that was still ankle deep. Dembe and Jeremy jumped down from the cab, splashing in the water, as Ressler stayed in the truck.
"Well Jeremy, I'm afraid we're going to have to impose on you and invade your home again for the night," said Red, looking at the cuffed man.
"You didn't ask the first time."
Red chuckled and walked up the steps to the deck. Dembe pushed Jeremy in front of him, as Eric and Phil fell in behind them.
Liz opened the passenger door and stood by Ressler now. "You going in?" she asked, and he shook his head.
"No, we need to raise someone on this radio. We don't know if your phone will ever send the message to Aram." She went around to the driver's seat and sat with him, as he began going through the channels again. At each one, he gave his little speech, and was either greeted with nothing, or someone yelling "Hello? Hello?" They came across a guy who spoke Spanish, and when neither side could understand the other, Ressler turned the dial again in frustration.
He finally raised a guy who thought he was in a trucker movie and spoke all the jargon, greeting them with a 'hey there we got a big 10-33 here, so what's your 20?" Ressler rolled his eyes. He didn't have time for Smokey and the Bandit crap right now. "This is Special Agent Donald Ressler of the FBI Washington DC Field Office. We are located... our 20... is north of Harrisonburg at the top of the mountain, just under the fire tower. We need to speak to someone in authority who can get us air support off this mountain."
"Well keep your ears on there Federali, let me see if I can get hold of them bears here," said the trucker voice.
Ressler looked at Liz tiredly, then spoke into the mic again. "We need to speak to the Emergency Management team, or the police, or someone who can get us a chopper up here," he repeated impatiently.
"That's what I'm doing Fed, hold on."
Ressler held on. He suddenly felt exhausted, closing his eyes again. Liz looked at him worriedly, then the voice came back on the radio.
"Turn your dial to 19.3 and talk to them there. That's the local cop shop."
"Thank you for your assistance," Ressler told the trucker.
"That's a big 10-4 there Federali! Keep your ears on, and hope you get some bears in the air!"
Liz looked at him. "He means a police helico..."
"I know what he means." He cut her off impatiently and with effort, leaned forward and turned the dial to 19.3. He sighed, pressed the mic and said his little speech again. This time he finally got someone in authority.
"This is Deputy Sheriff Tommy Johnson, who am I addressing? You said you're a Fed?"
Ressler replied again, explaining where they were, and how they were trapped with a prisoner, and seven of them in total. He kept his eyes closed, as another wave of dizziness rolled over him. Tommy Johnson was asking him more, but Ressler couldn't answer just yet.
He felt Liz take the mic from his hand. "This is Special Agent Elizabeth Keen, and yes, there are seven of us and we need air support. She looked at Ressler with concern while she spoke into the mic. He was more than just tired.
"Ma'am, we can't get a chopper up there tonight. We can try and get one up at first light though, If you're at the Cole cabin, I know where you're at. We can land at the fire tower above their place."
Liz clicked the mic again. "Thank you Sheriff." She replied, never taking her eyes of Ressler. "We also need a medic up here. One of our party is injured."
"Got it ma'am, we'll have a medic on board. We'll get a chopper up there first light. I've seen the river and there is no other way off the mountain right now."
He signed off and Liz hung the mic back on the CB radio. "Ressler. You're not okay, so don't tell me that you are. Tell me what's wrong."
He turned his head to the side to face her. "I'm just tired, Liz."
She looked dubiously at him, and nodded reluctantly. Getting out of the drivers side, she went around the truck and helped him out of the passenger side, noticing how much he leaned his weight on her as he stepped down onto the wet ground. They walked up the steps to the deck, and Ressler stopped and looked around. Memories of seeing lightning flashing and trees exploding came to him. Not to mention being shot at from a sniper while standing right here. He shivered suddenly, wincing at the pain that brought, before turning and walking through the front door. She followed him, and they entered the dimly lit living room, seeing the dance of candle light coming from the kitchen.
The first thing Ressler noticed was that the body of Jacob Cole was gone from the floor. He was rather relieved at that. He then noticed the shot out window had been boarded up. Jeremy Cole had been busy during his 'break' from them.
"Red!" Liz called out, and he appeared momentarily in the kitchen door holding a candle in a jar. He approached them, and Liz spoke softly to him, not wanting the others to hear just yet. "They're sending a police helicopter in the morning for us. We finally got hold of someone in town. We'll need to be up at the fire tower and they'll land there."
Red nodded, looked very relieved at that. "Dembe is making some sandwiches for us. Not much in the kitchen, but the man is resourceful."
"How are our guests?" asked Liz, looking toward the kitchen, where she could hear the men talking.
"No trouble so far. They seem a little perplexed at this turn of events. Jeremy is as quiet as ever," Red told her, turning his attention to Ressler.
"You don't look well Donald. Seriously." He narrowed his eyes, looking at the agents pallor.
Ressler looked at him silently. He was fine.
"Far be it for me to tell a grown man what to do Donald, but it's high time you got out of that vest so we can look at your ribs, my friend."
Ressler looked impatiently at Red, ignoring the concerned look the criminal was giving him. "No. I just need to grab a couple of hours sleep, and I'll be fine."
"There's something not right though, we really should check you..." said Liz.
He looked at them both, irritated and gritting his teeth now. "There is nothing you can do for broken ribs that I'm not already doing. I said NO," he hissed, and turned on his heel and headed toward the dark hallway to the guestroom. He desperately needed to lay down before he fell down from exhaustion but he didn't want them to see that.
He stopped, looked down a moment, and then turned back to Liz and Red, "I'm sorry. I'm just exhausted and being a complete prick about it. Just...just let me get some sleep, okay?" He managed a rueful smile, and turned from them now, entering the barely lit guest room. Sitting on the bed he kicked his boots off, then gasped as he lay down on the covers as a surge of pain shot through his entire torso and shoulder. He reached for the blanket, but Liz had followed him and was already on it. She covered him, and for a moment he felt like a little kid with his mom tucking him in. He didn't like feeling that helpless. Unable to keep his eyes open, he felt himself falling down into a dark abyss as sleep hurriedly sought to overtake him now.
He spoke to her as if from a great distance. "... I'll be fine. Just... need some... sl..."
He was asleep before he even finished the sentence.
She sat down in the recliner, watching him sleep, unable to shake the feeling that something was very wrong with him.
###
Ressler slept more than a couple of hours. At 4:30am Liz was asleep in the recliner beside the bed when she was suddenly woken up by a cry. She shot awake, realized it was from Ressler and went to him. He was sitting up on the bed panting hard, gripping his torso in pain at the sudden movement.
"Ressler! What's wrong?!"
He shook his head at her, panting, trying to get himself under control while the room spun around him. He had been dreaming of Audrey. It was one of those nice dreams. One of those beautiful safe dreams. Until Red had come along with a knife and slit her throat, leaving him trying to hold her throat together with her warm blood pouring all over him. He'd been screaming at her, begging her not to die. He'd woken up and bolted upright on the bed. He wasn't sure where he was, and then suddenly Liz was there, and it all came rushing back. They were at the Cole cabin.
She sat down beside him, and gently rubbed the back of his neck, stroking his damp hair as he shook breathlessly beside her. It had to have been a nightmare. She recognized the look now - she'd woken up that way a few times herself of late. "It's okay... it was just a dream..." she told him softly, and he nodded. He knew it was just a dream. Yet it wasn't only a dream. It was a memory too.
"I'm right here... it's okay..." she told him, hearing his breathing start to steady now. She understood why he didn't like to sleep.
His head was down as he spoke, "I'm sorry," he said, and she leaned close to him and shook her head, talking to him gently. "Don't be. You're not the only one, Ress. I have them too at times."
He looked sideways at her, and nodded. "It's hard... I miss her Liz. And I keep seeing her... dying... over and over..." he said softly, his breath hitching.
She leaned into him. "I know... I shot my 'husband' remember... I know..." And she really did know what it was like, to relive that over and over.
He looked at her again, and managed a painful chuckle then. "We make a right pair. Let's not let psych talk to us, okay? They'd bench us immediately."
She smiled and patted his back gently, mindful of his ribs. "Why don't we go see what Red and Dembe are up to?"
He nodded, then swayed alarmingly as a dizzy spell hit him as he stood up. She grabbed his right arm before he fell, looking up at him as he stood now. "You are not okay."
He looked down at her, his breath catching. "I know, Liz. But there will be a medic here soon, and we'll be out of here and I can get checked out then."
###
Ressler and Liz entered the living room, where Phil and ET had both taken up chairs and were sleeping soundly. Eric was sprawled out on the couch, drooling, noticed Liz, and Phil was snoring on a recliner. They noticed they had changed out of their wetsuits during the night, presumably wearing some of the Cole brother's clothing now. They made their way quietly through to the kitchen. Red had fallen asleep at the table, and jerked his head up as they entered. The man could probably wake up at a sparrow fart 200 yards away, thought Liz. Dembe was in his assigned position of guard, although the one he was guarding was fast asleep in the chair. It was still dark, but the sun would be rising very soon. All in all, it had been a quiet, uneventful night. Something all of them had needed.
"So," said Red, waking up properly now, "good morning Lizzie, Donald, I take it you got plenty of rest?" He said, looking at them, noting that Ressler was still very pale, now with dark rings under his eyes. He saw the glance between them, but didn't pursue it.
"Yes, and we'll need to head up to the fire tower soon and wait for this helicopter that we assume is going to arrive," replied Liz, looking out the window and seeing the first light appearing in the sky.
Liz and Ressler sat at the kitchen table now, as Jeremy woke up on hearing them talk. "And the sooner we get out of here the better." She added, unable to help stealing a concerned glance at Ressler.
"Then let's get this party going, shall we? Dembe, wake up the troops." And with that, Red got up and leaned close to Ressler's ear. "And Donald, if you don't let that medic check you out, I'll hold you at gunpoint myself until you do."
He smiled cheerfully at Ressler now, and resisted slapping him on the back.
Ressler looked up at him silently, knowing the man would do it too.
###
Twenty minutes later, they were all in the pick up truck. Red was driving again, something that Ressler still found unusual, but was getting used to. Liz was in the passenger seat, and Ressler, Eric and Phil were crammed in the back seat, Ressler in the middle. Dembe and Jeremy were once again relegated to sitting outside in the cab. They pulled out from in front of the cabin, and headed slowly down the driveway. The sun hadn't yet risen over the mountain, but the entire area was washed in a pink glow.
They reached the end of the drive way, and once again crawled carefully over the ditch to reach the road. Ressler grimaced as the truck lurched, then righted itself as they turned and headed up the mountain. They came to the fire access road, and both Liz and Ressler were struck with just how much had happened since they had pulled into this very road almost 48 hours earlier. The ditch across the road was huge, and again, Red maneuvered the pickup over it, the vehicle tipping alarmingly to one side. He righted it and climbed up onto the fire access road.
Water still lined the ditches on either side of the road, and rivers of water still ran down the road in places. The pickup truck handled it all in it's stride, even as the incline increased as they drove by where they had originally parked their van. There were very few trees at this elevation, which made going much easier, with no trees across the road. The road turned a little and now they could see the top of the fire lookout tower. They climbed steadily, and a few minutes later Red pulled the pickup into the small parking area near the tower.
The tower was larger than Liz had imagined. She had thought of one of those tall, spindly things that looked like they'd topple in the slightest breeze. This tower was constructed of gray stone, about 20 foot square, and approximately 50 feet tall. It was a very sturdy looking building, with a metal ladder going up two sides to reach the large lookout tower at the top, surrounded by windows on all sides to give an unobstructed view. A door led to the lower part of the tower, under the stairs.
There was a lot of cleared land around the tower, with plenty of area for a chopper to land. They sat in the vehicle a moment, and then Red opened the door and hopped out, taking in the view from the top. Eric and Phil opened the doors and exited, leaving Ressler sitting in the back seat, and Liz in the passenger seat.
"You want to just wait in here?" she asked him.
He shook his head. He was feeling decidedly nauseous and if he was going to throw up, he'd rather do it outside than in the vehicle. With an effort, he moved to the door and slowly climbed out. Liz stood by him, hearing how breathless he sounded. Sweat was beading on his forehead.
He glanced at her, seeing her looking at him worriedly. "I know Liz. The medic will be here soon."
Eric and Phil were near them, looking out at the view. Dembe and Jeremy were over by the tower, leaning against it. Red was off to one side, looking toward the town, willing a helicopter to appear. Two days up here was more than enough.
"There it is!" called out Eric, and pointed. Sure enough, a speck was rising out of the morning sky, getting bigger and bigger. It was a helicopter and it was definitely heading in their direction.
Liz smiled with relief, and went over toward Phil to get a better view of it approaching, hoping against hope it was their chopper and that it would keep heading this way. Eric turned to look at her, as his smile turned somber. "I'm sorry," he said, taking her by surprise.
"For what?" she asked him.
"For this," said Phil from behind her, and she suddenly felt something on the back of her head.
He was holding a gun to her head.
Her eyes widened and she looked at Eric. He was faster though, and had already reached for her firearm and taken it from her holster, now pointing it at her.
Ressler moved toward them instinctively. "No!" and reached for his own weapon.
It was not in his holster.
"This what you're looking for FBI?" said Phil, now holding up Ressler's gun. Ressler took another step toward him, realizing Phil had to have taken it from him while they were in the pickup, likely as they lurched across the driveways. He gritted his teeth at his own stupidity, heading for Liz. The dizziness was threatening again.
"Don't come any closer! Or I will put a bullet in her head!" said Phil.
Ressler stopped, his breath heaving in his chest, the ground starting to spin violently. Not now! Dammit! He yelled at himself. He needed his wits about him.
Red whipped around, pulled out his gun, and pointed it at Phil.
"I said don't!" he told Red, taking the gun off safety, holding it on Liz as he grabbed her hair now. Her eyes looked to Red, and he had no choice. He lowered the weapon, cursing inwardly. He glanced quickly down the mountain. The helicopter was getting closer. They could hear it's rotors now in the morning air.
"Let Jeremy Cole go, or I will shoot her!" he yelled over to Dembe, who had now turned and was shoving Jeremy Cole in front of him.
Eric was caught between a rock and a hard place. He really didn't want to have to shoot anyone, but held the gun on Liz. Ressler knew he was the weak link in this. But even if he overpowered him, there was still Phil with two weapons. He looked at Liz, and her eyes pleaded with him. Dammit! He needed to do something!
"Drop the rifle! Let Jeremy go NOW!" yelled Phil toward Dembe. "Or I swear, she's dead!"
Red looked to Dembe, and motioned with his hand to lower the rifle. No matter who Jeremy Cole was or what contacts he had, he was not going to risk Lizzie's life.
"Put the rifle on the ground." Jeremy told Dembe, his eyes boring into the black mans. Dembe refused to give up the rifle to Cole. He threw the rifle over the edge of the embankment, watching it fall into the trees and grass, and bounce down the mountainside.
"That works just as well," Jeremy told Dembe over the sound of the helicopter, and headed toward Phil.
They could see the helicopter approaching now, getting much louder.
Eric was in front of Ressler now, holding him at gunpoint. "I need those cuff keys. I'm sorry."
Ressler tried to reason with the kid. "You really don't want to do this. You'll go to jail for a very long time," he told the kid breathlessly, willing the ground to stay still and his eyes to focus.
Eric wasn't listening though. "The keys! Now!"
Ressler fished the keys out of his pocket, and threw them at Eric's feet. As he bent down to get them, Ressler lunged, kicking the gun from his hands, feeling a wave of pain and dizziness overtake him at the sudden movement as he hit the ground. They both scrambled for the gun, Ressler unable to make out where it was as the ground spun crazily around him. His chest was screaming in pain, his shoulder on fire. He shook his head, trying to see straight. Eric grabbed the gun and swung around, pointing it in Ressler's face as he lay on the ground.
"I'm sorry. They told me to..." He pulled back the hammer, ready to fire.
A shot rang out, he heard Liz scream, and Ressler felt an awful dejavu sweep over him. But once again, someone else had fired the shot. As his vision swam, he made out Red walking over, having shot Eric in the arm. The kid was writhing on the ground as Red approached.
Ressler reached out to retrieve the gun, the ground spinning around him. He could barely make it out, but his fingers finally closed around the cold metal. He dragged it toward him, flipping the safety back on as he did so. He pulled it under him, and closed his eyes. Eric was yelling out in pain, but the sound was receding in Ressler's ears. Blackness threatened. His stomach was dropping out from under him. His breath ragged, blackness surrounded him now. Caught in its clutches, he couldn't fight it. The last thing he heard was Liz screaming his name, and the sound of a helicopter above him before he lost consciousness.
Phil held the gun on Liz, dropping it down out of sight from the police in the helicopter. Jeremy quickly retrieved the cuff keys from the ground near Eric and undid the cuffs, dropping them beside the unconscious Ressler. He looked toward Red, warning him not to try anything, as Phil handed him Ressler's gun.
Liz was looking at Ressler on the ground. She couldn't see if he was breathing over the downdraft from the helicopter above them. The sound was deafening, as it circled, the wind whipping around them, making it difficult to stand. It slowly dropped to the ground, coming to a halt in the clearing near the tower. The power to the blades was shut off, and they slowed.
"We need a medic over here!" yelled Jeremy Cole and Red had a sickening feeling. What the hell was he up to? He was looking at Ressler on the ground, and shared Liz's concern.
"Move," Liz heard Phil say from behind her, as he shoved the gun into the small of her back. She resisted, and he pushed harder. "I will kill you. Now move." She moved forward, and as they passed Ressler she tried to drop down to him.
"Oh no you don't. Or I'll finish what Eric started and your partner here will be mincemeat all over the ground," Jeremy told her.
Liz straightened, and Phil kept pushing her toward the chopper. She caught Red's eyes as Red stood near Dembe, again motioning to the man not to make a move. Not with a gun on Lizzie.
A man jumped from the chopper, carrying a large case. The medic had arrived.
"Over here!" Jeremy Cole motioned toward Ressler and Eric on the ground. The medic ran, hunched down under the blades of the chopper.
"Oh God...don't you dare Jeremy," said Red under his breath.
Phil approached the chopper now, and hunched down, pulling Liz with him as they headed to the open door. He reached up, and climbed in, pulling her in behind him.
"You see Jeremy over there? He's crazy. He will shoot your partner on the ground if you try anything," Phil snarled in her ear.
Liz did as she was told. For now, that was all she could do.
The medic approached Ressler and dropped to his knees, opening up his bag. He pulled his flight helmet off and lay it beside him, before reaching down and opening one of Ressler's eyes. He reached into his pocket for his little flashlight, bending down to the unconscious agent. Eric squirmed beside him.
"I'm worse off than him!" he whined, and the medic looked at him. "I'll get to you too, don't worry."
Phil was in the chopper and approached the pilot. He leaned over, giving the guy a cheesy grin and a big thumbs up. The pilot turned, and smiled, nodding to the guy. In that instant, Phil raised the gun and fired it straight into the man's heart. He never had a chance. He was dead in seconds. His heart exploding as the bullet ripped it apart.
On the ground, the medic looked up in horror at the gunshot, only to see Jeremy Cole leaning down to him. He fired point blank into the medic's head, the man falling dead to the ground beside Ressler and Eric.
"What the fu..?!" Eric screamed at Jeremy.
"No! NO!" screamed Liz, and Phil turned to her. "I'm just getting warmed up darlin'. Don't push it."
Jeremy Cole ran, sprinting past Red and Dembe. "Don't you dare! Phil will kill her!" and ran to the chopper, clambering aboard. He reached around to the dead pilot, and opened the small door near him. Pushing the body out, Jeremy sat in the pilot's seat now. He looked toward Red and Dembe, saluted them, and then started up the chopper.
As the rotors increased in speed, Eric got up from the ground, hauling himself to his feet.
"Don't leave me! Don't you dare leave me!" He lumbered toward the chopper, seeing it lift off the ground now, the rotors at full speed, deafening them all again.
"NO! Don't leave me behind!" Eric screamed, blood pouring down his right arm.
Liz looked down in horror, seeing Ressler lying on the ground, the dead medic, Eric trying to catch up to the chopper and Red and Dembe. standing together. She held her hands on the window, looking down as they rose into the sky, sobbing against the window now.
Red dropped to the ground on his knees, and seeing that was the hardest thing of all. She had never seen Red look so defeated.