Aram looked at the gun pointed at him and told himself there was NO way that was paper. He hesitated a moment longer, looked into Red's determined eyes, and then nodded to the pilot to land the helicopter.
"Good man," said Red, and lowered the gun as the helicopter descended, whipping up debris from the burned out wreckage of the Police helicopter. Red watched as Eric stood back near the tower, fairly calm once he realized the chopper was coming back for him. As the helicopter touched down and bounced a little, Red opened the door and called him over. Eric didn't move. Stepping out of the helicopter, Red walked toward Eric, who promptly started backing away.
"No! You're angry at me!" He could see the kid's face as he approached. Wide eyed as he remembered Red's former fury, he turned and started to jog down the fire road. Red stopped in frustration.
Inside the helicopter Dembe was watching through the door and jumped down to the soft ground and jogged up to his boss. "I will get him," he said, and loped off after Eric.
A fine misty rain filled the air, giving everything a clean and green look after the heavy downpour as Dembe ran after the kid, sidestepping rivers of rainwater still pouring down the road. He called out to Eric, and the kid turned and then stopped, recognizing his rescuer from the river. He walked back up the road toward Dembe.
"Mr Reddington wishes to ask you some questions and in return he will get you out of here," Dembe told the young man.
"No, he's scary!" cried Eric.
You don't know the half of it, thought Dembe. "He will not hurt you. You have my word. Come with me now." He took a step closer to Eric, and motioned back up toward the helicopter.
Eric looked into Dembe's dark eyes and nodded, then followed the big man quietly to the helicopter.
Inside the helicopter, Ressler couldn't stop shaking. It had started right after Red held the gun to Aram - something that hardly surprised him about the man anymore - and he realized he was shivering with cold. He watched silently as Dembe climbed back in the helicopter, pushing the kid in front of him. Eric sat down right beside Dembe - his new best friend apparently.
Red leaned over to Eric noticing him leaning into Dembe for protection as he did so. "Eric, I need your help. Where would Phil and Jeremy have gone when they left in the helicopter earlier?"
Eric didn't answer.
"Eric, I know the general direction, but I'm going to need you to tell me more, okay?"
Aram spoke up, looking worriedly at Ressler. "Mr Reddington, we have the kid. Now we need to head for D.C. and get Agent Ressler and the other gentleman to the hospital."
"No. Not yet... We need... to find... Liz..." said Ressler shakily, answering Aram, his eyes closed now. His brain felt funny, and he knew (even without Doctor Red telling him), that the blood loss was affecting him badly now.
Red turned to the shaking agent beside him. "Donald, this will help us find Lizzie. Eric should know where she is." He watched as Ressler nodded, then felt the man's forehead. He was cold and clammy. "And you need to be laying down here."
"I'm... fine..." shivered Ressler.
Dembe looked at Eric. "You will be helping the FBI agent over there if you tell Mr Reddington what we need to know."
"I'm not too good with directions though," said Eric.
The pilot turned to face them. "We don't have enough fuel to just fly aimlessly trying to find her, sir."
"I can give you a general direction," Red told the pilot.
"I need a destination. I'm telling you, I don't have enough reserve fuel to go far and make it back to D.C." said the pilot, worriedly pointing to his fuel gauge.
Red sighed, and then leaned forward, pointing out the window. "Then fly in that direction, toward that notch between the two mountains on the horizon." Red told the pilot. "We'll give you a destination on the way. Won't we Eric?" he added, turning back to the young man.
The pilot shook his head in frustration, then leaned up and flipped some switches. The pitch of the rotors changed as they picked up speed, and the helicopter lifted off and hovered, before turning in the direction Red had pointed to as it rose into the mid afternoon sky. It was overcast, but patches of blue were breaking through the clouds in areas. Visibility was fairly good, and the light misty rain still fell but not enough to cause any problems with flying.
Red was listening to Ressler's labored breathing beside him, and turned to the agent. "Hang in there Donald. And look at the bright side - we're off the mountain at last," he told him, looking at him worriedly. Ressler only nodded to him in reply, before Red turned his attention back to Eric.
"Now Eric, tell me where Jeremy would have gone when he left you behind?" said Red, deliberately reminding the kid Jeremy had left him.
"I don't care! He left me! Flew away and left me!" he shot at Red.
Red regarded him calmly. "Yes, he did. But WE came back for you." He looked out the window briefly, looking at the mountains and trees below as they kept on course.
Eric was thinking about that, the cogs turning in his mind, as Red turned back to him. "But if you can't tell me what I need to know, you're of no use whatsoever."
Ressler was listening to the exchange, almost leaning on Red with exhaustion. He'd heard those words before, in a glass box when he'd felt very similar to how he was feeling now. "Better listen to... him kid. He'll have... a gun to your head... next." He said, unable to stop shivering.
"Donald, you're not helping."
###
Liz was getting extremely frustrated at being tied to a kitchen chair. When she'd goaded Phil into heading back to the mountain, being left behind wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind. Her eyes scanned the kitchen for the closest drawer where she could find something to cut the cable ties that had her restrained. Pushing the chair slowly toward the cabinets, she spied the drawer behind her that Phil had been rummaging around in earlier. He'd left it open. She made her way over to it and peered inside and gasped at what she saw. A small handheld two way radio was inside. Had he left that deliberately...? But until she found some way to untie herself, she had no way to use the radio.
Leaning forward, she managed to stand, trapping her hands painfully as her wrists took the weight of the chair she was tied to. She grunted a little, making her way to another drawer. Leaning down, attempting to grab the drawer handle with her teeth was proving unsuccessful. Her wrists felt ready to snap under the weight, so she lowered the chair and clumsily sat down on it again. Blood rushed back into her hands, as she sat panting, looking for a different way. She looked back at the radio again. Maybe she could reach it with her hands, and hold it behind her.
Her mind set on the new task, she stood again, and maneuvered herself backward to the drawer. The chair was in the way though. Try as she might she couldn't reach into the drawer to retrieve the radio. But she could grasp the handle, and in one move she pulled the entire drawer out, depositing the contents all over the kitchen floor. Dragging the chair, she headed for the radio, but it had landed under the kitchen table. Stretching her leg out, she was unable to reach it while seated on the chair.
"Damn it! Just give me one break! That's all I ask!" she cried in frustration, still trying to reach the radio with her outstretched foot.
Okay, time for Plan M. Or was it Plan N by now? She stood again, and while ignoring the weight of the chair on her hands and wrists, kneeled down. Dropping to her side, she stifled a cry as she hit her head due to the weight of the chair. The chair pulled at her wrists now, cutting off the circulation, but she persevered. Scooting under the table while dragging the chair she clamped her teeth down on the short radio aerial, and smiled around it. Moving back with difficulty, pushing the chair with her as she went, she cleared the table and lay on the floor. She gently placed the radio on the floor, and looked at it. She couldn't operate it yet, but at least she had it.
She started to turn in a circle now, moving away from the radio and then approaching it with her back to it, her fingers reaching out. She couldn't feel the radio. She readjusted and moved back again and again, getting more and more worn out and frustrated at each attempt. She moved back again, feeling the radio with her fingertips. And in one final victory, she finally grasped the radio.
"Hah! Gotcha!" she said, allowing herself some satisfaction at that.
She closed her eyes, wondering who would hear her call, if anyone, and pressed the call button.
###
Ressler was sitting (leaning) with his eyes closed. He was concentrating hard and trying to keep awake, when he thought he heard something above the noise of the rotors. It was a voice. And it was a female voice.
His eyes flew open and he looked at up Red, startled to see he was practically leaning on the man's shoulder. "Liz. That's... Liz's voice!"
"You're hearing things Donald," said Red kindly, knowing the agent was not thinking straight due to blood loss, "and you really, really need to lay down here." He looked at Ressler worriedly again, and then turned back to Eric. Ever the medic, Red had convinced the kid to let him treat and bandage his gunshot wound, and was working on regaining his trust while he did so. The wound was all dressed now, and he looked up at the kid and patted his shoulder.
"No. Listen! I think...it's a… radio," Ressler insisted. While convinced at what he'd heard, he also had this horrible feeling that his mind was completely losing it and playing tricks on him now.
And Red listened then, leaning over Ressler and toward Phil, and heard it. "That IS a radio!" Red pointed to Phil, and Dembe was up, already searching through Phil's pockets. In his front jeans pocket, he found a small handheld two way, and handed it to Red.
Red pressed the button, not knowing who else might hear him, but deciding to take that chance. "Lizzie. We can hear you. Where are you?"
Static.
And then..."Red! I'm in..." Then more static.
"Told you..." said Ressler, closing his eyes, thankful that he wasn't losing his mind completely yet, and concentrated on her voice. Red gave the agent a small smile.
Liz's voice was breaking up. "...teen minutes..."
"Lizzie, repeat." said Red.
"...eventeen minutes fli..." the voice broke up again, and more static sounded.
"She said... seventeen min... minutes," said Ressler, trying not to shake. It hurt more when he shook. He opened his eyes and looked up at Red again. "How long have... have we been fly... flying...?"
Aram was listening and looked at his watch, calculating. He leaned back to Red and Ressler. "Twelve and a half minutes. We've been in the air twelve and a half minutes."
Red looked at him incredulously. "And you know that exactly?"
"What can I say? I like numbers," he shrugged, and nodded in confirmation. Red was looking at his watch. "Okay, then in four minutes we will be somewhere in the vicinity of her."
He looked out the window, seeing the end of the mountains in sight and a small town in the distance. There. She had to be in that town. But where? "Eric, look out there, tell me where Jeremy would go."
The young man looked out the window, but couldn't recognize anything from this angle. "I can't tell from up here. But it's a farm house. A big white farm house."
Red scanned the area, while Dembe looked out the other side, and Aram looked out the front. "There are a few over there," said Aram, pointing now.
Red pressed the radio button again, asking Liz, but there was no answer, just more static.
"...iller. Hiller bar..." her voice came again, and Red looked at Dembe. "Miller farm."
"No, she... she said Hiller... Hiller barn..." said Ressler, concentrating only on her voice with his eyes closed.
"There!" Eric was looking, and his keen eyes spotted the barn with the name painted on below them. "But that's not our house."
"No, but we're on the right course," Red told him.
In the cockpit, the pilot was looking at his fuel gauge, and watched as an orange warning light came on the dashboard. "We need to head back! We are about to run out of reserve fuel!"
"NO!" Ressler called out, and Red echoed his sentiments. "No. Wait! We are almost there!"
The radio sounded again as Liz's voice came back. "...port, looks like an ex..." and then more static.
And then the radio went completely dead.
"Lizzie!" Red kept calling, but there was no answer.
"There is an airport in the shape of an X over there. That must be it!" said Aram, pointing off to the left. The pilot turned in that direction, as Red leaned down in front of Eric. "I need you to concentrate Eric. What does the farm house look like when you are standing in front of it?"
"It's white...with a brown roof," he said. They kept looking frantically, scanning the few farmhouses below them. They were all white with brown roofs. "What else Eric, something else. What do you see when you're looking at it?"
"Sir! We need to turn back now! I have no more reserve fuel!" the pilot called out, and began turning.
Red moved toward the pilot and looked him square in the face. "Shut the hell up. If we need to, you can refuel over there. It's an airport, in case you hadn't noticed." The pilot regarded him, and did as he was told and stayed on course.
Red moved back into the passenger area. "Eric. Think." Eric closed his eyes, imagining standing at the farm house. "The house has plants on it."
"Ivy? It has ivy growing on it?" asked Red, scanning the farm houses below then now as the pilot stayed on this new heading. "I dunno. Plants on the walls."
"There!" Aram spotted it in front of them. It was the only farmhouse he could see with ivy growing on it. He turned to the pilot. "Land right there behind that house." In his haste to turn back, the pilot had actually turned them in the direction they needed to go to see the farm house.
Red patted Eric's shoulder. "Well done Eric. Well done." The kid beamed. He didn't often get told that.
Dembe chuckled, and looked at the kid as he sat down beside him again.
###
Liz was almost in tears. She had been telling them about the airport, when she inadvertently pressed the wrong button on the unseen radio behind her, moving the channel. In her attempt to get back to the channel, she had dropped the radio, and spent a couple of anxious minutes repositioning herself to reach it again. She was still desperately pressing buttons, trying to find the channel she had been on when she heard something.
A helicopter. And it was getting louder as it approached.
She yelled out, knowing they couldn't hear her. "I'm here! Come on guys! I'm here!"
The chopper got louder and suddenly there it was, in full view of her through the kitchen window as she lay on the floor. A dark blue helicopter with the letters 'FBI' on its side.
"Yeah! The cavalry is here!" She didn't know if she was laughing or crying as they landed in the field. She had expected to see the Police helicopter returning, but not the FBI. The helicopter was out of her line of sight now as she lay on the floor, but it didn't matter. The FBI was here. She waited, listening to the rotors slowing.
"Lizzie!" she heard Red calling her name.
"I'm in here!" she cried at the top of her lungs. She heard running, then movement at the back door, then voices. "It's locked. Check Phil again for keys!"
She heard the sound of more running, and then saw Red at the window, cupping his hands to the glass. He saw her. They had the keys now, and the back door was opening. Red came in, followed by Dembe.
"Lizzie, are you hurt?" asked Red, leaning down to her.
"No, just trapped on this darn chair." Dembe was already behind her cutting the cable ties with his pocket knife, freeing her hands. As she got to her feet, Aram entered the room.
"Agent Keen! So glad to have found you. Now we need to get out of here." He looked at Red for confirmation. "Right...?"
"Wait, not yet." Liz told them, rubbing her bruised wrists as she headed for the back door. "Come with me!" They followed her outside, making their way around the right side of the house to the tack room. As they were about to enter, she suddenly stopped.
"Where is Ressler?" she turned and asked them.
"He's in the helicopter. He's...not doing so good Lizzie. We need to make this fast," Red told her quietly. As he looked toward the helicopter, he saw Eric jump down and come toward them.
Liz looked toward the chopper, hesitated, then turned back to the tack room. Her weapon drawn, she pulled the door open. There was no one inside as they filed in.
"Whoa..." said Aram, holstering his weapon as he looked at the lab in front of them. His attention was then drawn to the computers against the back wall. Like a magnet, they called to him and he walked over to them. He suddenly stopped, and turned back to Liz.
"Oh... I guess it's safe in here, right? No pesky viruses in those beakers?" He looked dubiously at the contents of the large table in the middle of the room.
Liz assured him she had seen them walking in and out of this room with no protective clothing. Red was leaning over the beakers, lifting them and looking at them, sniffing a few.
"Actually, I don't believe there ever was a 'pesky virus' here..." He looked around, opening drawers and cupboards. "In fact, there is nothing here that would suggest they have the ingredients to make anything toxic. Other than Koolaid perhaps. Whatever viral threat there may be, I believe it may be a decoy."
Eric was standing in the doorway, and Red motioned to him to come in.
"A decoy for what though...? Whatever they are planning, Phil said it was tomorrow morning," Liz told him.
"It is," Eric told her and they all turned to look at him. "I wasn't supposed to know, but I hear things, and I remember things..."
Red smiled, and motioned for Eric. "Come sit here. Tell me what things you remember." Eric came in, sitting down between Red and Dembe. "They said anarchy," he told them, and Liz looked up at Red.
"That does not sound good." She turned to Eric. "Is that the name of the airborne virus they will release? Where are they releasing it?"
"The Philadelphia hub," said Eric, "but I'm not sure where that is. But that's what I heard."
Aram sat at one of the computers, trying password after password, trying to access their system. "Eric, do you know what password they used?" Aram asked him.
"I told you. Anarchy is what they said."
Aram quickly typed it in. "No, that's not it... Wait..." He was furiously typing again, and finally got in. "It's not 'Anarchy', but 'Anarki' ...that's another great band name..." He was searching through the computer now, looking for information on it.
"I think the attack will be in D.C. though, from something Phil told me," said Liz. She was looking at Aram when she saw the lightbulb go off in his mind.
He looked up at her, open mouthed, then returned to typing furiously, opening file after file. "It's not a train station or airport. It's a hub... a computer hub... It's in Philadelphia, and..." He stopped, moving to another computer now and quickly logging in to that one, "and it's not an airborne virus. It's a computer virus! From the Philadelphia hub, it branches out to every major Federal building on the east coast!"
Liz looked at him, comprehension dawning now. "So it will be in D.C., but in other cities too."
"If this thing goes off, every Federal system will be down... anarchy will be right," Aram told them as he typed.
Liz approached him. "Aram, how long will this take?"
He drew his eyes from the screen. "Um, well it could take a while... I have to go through all these files, and find out their encryption, and their delivery method, and then there are the protocols and..."
Red interrupted him. "So, you're going to need to call for backup, and in the meantime, we need to get Donald and Phil out of here." Liz was nodding, reaching for where she normally kept her phone before quickly remembering it was still up on the mountain.
Aram looked up at Red. "Yes. Yes of course. You're absolutely right. I need the IT guys in here. Though of course, I'm an IT guy..." Aram grabbed his phone, and started dialing. "Right, yes. I'm on it."
"Lizzie," Red held her elbow and turned her away from the computer, "We need to go."
"Dembe! Stay with Aram. We never know who might show up while his nose is in that computer." The big man nodded to his boss, and stood guard at the door as they left.
"Eric, come with us," Liz told him, smiling at the young man and motioning for him to join them. As Liz watched him, the image of an obedient puppy came to mind as he followed them out toward the helicopter.
###
Ressler sat with his eyes closed, listening to the beat of his heart. It felt slow. WAY too slow. It was actually starting to scare him how slow it was beating. I might die right here... he thought. A voice, a memory came to mind... 'Is it really worth it, this job? Risking your life? They own you.' Nathaniel Wolff had asked him that at a small airport...on the day Sam had died... and as he sat in the helicopter, he contemplated those words. Was it really worth it? He'd been beaten up and shot numerous times. Almost died. Would have died - twice - if not for Raymond Reddington. But even worse than that, the job had cost him the only woman he had ever loved. All because of his job. And now he was bleeding out slowly but surely, all for the job. Was it really worth it...? He realized, painfully, that he really wasn't sure anymore.
He was still listening to his heartbeat, and feeling so cold that the shivering was hurting his back when he felt a soft, warm hand cup his cheek. He slowly opened his eyes, looking straight into Liz's worried face before him.
"Hey..." ,he said softly. "We're going to get you to the hospital, okay?" She was crouching down before him as his seat belt held him up in the seat.
He nodded, looking at her and then closed his eyes. Unbidden, a tear rolled down his cheek. He felt her wipe it away and now her arms were around him. He was cold. So cold, and she felt warm and soft. He dropped his head to her shoulder.
"Ress, you need to lay down, okay?" ,he told him, rubbing his neck. She felt him nod as he shivered in her arms. He was freezing cold. She turned to Eric.
"Eric, do me a favor. Run into the house and get me a big, warm blanket, okay?"
Eric nodded, and sprang from his seat, running to the house to do as he was asked. As he left, Liz got Ressler's seat belt off and with Red's help, they lay him across the seats, then strapped him back in safely.
"I've been trying to get him to lie down all day. You ask him once and he complies." Red smiled at her as Eric climbed back in the helicopter and handed them the blanket.
"Thank you Eric," she smiled at him, covering Ressler with the blanket and tucking it in around him.
Eric was looking at the vacant passenger seat beside the pilot. Red noticed, and told the young man he could sit there if he liked - as long as he didn't touch anything. Eric nodded and clambered excitedly into the seat.
Red leaned around to talk to the pilot. "Okay, now you can get us out of here. Which hospital are you taking us to?"
"Walter Reed. They are waiting for us. We should be there in 35-40 minutes." He reached up and began flipping switches ready for takeoff as Red went and sat across from Ressler, sitting beside Phil. He looked down at Phil. The man was still unconscious, but he was stable.
Liz sat beside Ressler, looking down at him worriedly. He was deathly pale and sweating. She looked up at Red, who met her eyes. "I know Lizzie. I know."
The rotors picked up speed, and then the helicopter rose into the late afternoon sky. Red looked down as they climbed, seeing Dembe step out of the tack room to watch them leave. He returned his gaze back to Lizzie, watching her leaning over Ressler as she stroked his cheek now. They really don't see it... he thought. Or maybe they do see it, but they can't do anything about it...
As they turned and headed in the direction of D.C., Red looked at the sky. Rain clouds were building on the horizon in the direction they were heading. The last thing they needed was to be caught in bad weather. MORE bad weather, he corrected himself.
###
They had been in the air for 20 minutes, when the rain clouds that Red had seen as they took off started gathering around them. Light rain started to fall. Nothing major, but still, Red didn't like it. He turned to the pilot. "How long?"
"Well, if the wind picks up, it will slow us down a few minutes. Maybe 20-25 minutes now," the pilot told him worriedly.
Red turned back to Ressler and leaned over him, checking his pulse in his carotid artery. It was so slow. He counted on his watch. Ressler's heart rate was 28. His heart was barely beating once every 2 seconds, yet amazingly, the man was still conscious. He patted Ressler's cheek, noting how long it took him to slowly open his eyes.
"Stay with us Donald. We'll get you there, okay?" Ressler didn't reply and simply closed his eyes again, unable to keep them open any longer.
Red reached for the medic's kit stowed under the seat, and pulled it out. Sitting down, he looked through the contents. He knew what he needed and had seen it in the kit all along. The kit's former owner David Klassen was very likely going to help save a life again.
"Lizzie," he leaned over to her now, "keep your fingers on his pulse... just lightly... don't press, just keep feeling for his pulse." Liz looked at him in fear, and then nodded, moving her hand gently to Ressler's neck. She felt his slow pulse now, and kept her fingers resting there. She didn't want to ask why Red was telling her to do this. She knew why. And it scared the hell out of her.
Ressler half heard their conversation, as if he were in the bottom of a barrel and they were looking down into it. He didn't want to open his eyes anymore. All that did was reinforce the feeling that he was fading. Blackness was at the edge of his vision. He didn't want to see that again. He half felt Liz's fingers slide to his neck and he knew why too. She's waiting to see if my heart keeps beating. Waiting to feel... when I die...
"Damn."
Red turned quickly to the pilot. "What's wrong?"
"Lightning, off in the distance there," said the pilot.
"I saw it too," said Eric from beside him. "It looks like it's getting bad out there."
Red followed the young man's gaze. He was right. He looked at his watch again. 15, maybe 20 minutes to Walter Reed.
Ressler felt his heart rate slowing and it was getting harder to breathe now. The good news was he no longer felt cold, so his shivering had stopped. He was barely aware of Liz's hand on his neck, but knew she was still with him. If I have to die, maybe this isn't so bad, he thought. The blackness was coming up now and he couldn't fight it anymore as it consumed him. He dropped down, falling again into that all too familiar black void of random thoughts and feelings. His former inward discussion came to mind. Was it really worth it? Yes it was... Liz made it worth it. The last thing he heard was her crying out...
"Red!" Liz cried out to him and he whipped around, knowing why she sounded so afraid. "I can barely feel his pulse!"
Red was at her side now, pulling the medic kit over and reaching for the stethoscope. He grabbed it, placed it in his ears and listened to Ressler's chest. His heart was painfully slow. He was still listening to it beating, when it slowed even further.
And was still listening, when Ressler's heart stopped.
"Lizzie! Get his chest uncovered!" Liz pulled the blanket off, then moved his jacket to the side and lifted his t-shirt, seeing Ressler's horribly bruised chest for the first time.
Red grabbed a black bag attached to a face mask from the medic kit. He turned back to Liz. "We need to bag him." He placed the mask over Ressler's unresponsive mouth and nose. "Squeeze this every 2 seconds, and keep it sealed tight on his face."
Liz nodded frantically, wiping away tears as she held the bag to Ressler's face. "Keep squeezing the bag Lizzie! You're breathing for him!"
Red placed his hands in the middle of Ressler's chest and began chest compressions. Aware of Ressler's broken ribs and the damage this could do, he had no choice if he was to keep the man alive. He pushed down hard again on Ressler's chest.
The pilot, aware of what was happening, looked at his watch. Still 15 minutes to Walter Reed. He picked up the radio. "Walter Reed, this is FBI Helo 470. We have an agent on board in cardiac arrest. We are en route with an ETA of approximately 15 minutes. Please advise!" He looked out at the rain that was falling heavily now, obstructing his view. After what seemed like an eternity, the voice came back.
"FBI Helo 470, adjust heading to 210, and turn back. We are alerting Inova Fairfax to expect incoming. That's heading two one zero. ETA approximately 7 minutes from your position."
In the cockpit, Eric was leaning back and watching them, crying for the 'dead' FBI man. He had a flight helmet on, and was listening to the pilot's radio call.
Red felt the helicopter bank as he kept pressing down on Ressler's chest. He had to trust that the pilot knew what he was doing and was getting Ressler to a closer hospital. In confirmation, he heard Eric call out. "We're going to a different hospital!"
"Ress! No!" Liz called his name as she kept squeezing the bag, leaning close to his face. He wasn't responding.
She looked helplessly up. "Red!" The helicopter shuddered in a sudden pocket of turbulence, and she grabbed at the bag to keep it sealed on Ressler's face.
"Don't stop, Lizzie!"
Her vision obliterated by tears, she kept squeezing the bag, seeing Ressler's limp body jump at every chest compression Red was doing.
"Come on Donald. Don't do this." Red pushed down hard on his chest, forcing his heart to contract with each compression. He glanced up at Liz, and nodded in encouragement. "Keep going, Lizzie!"
"Inova Fairfax, this is FBI Helo 470, do you read me?" The pilot spoke into his mic, glancing back at the effort to resuscitate the agent.
"FBI Helo 470, this is Inova Fairfax. We hear you and are standing by. We will light a flare on the helipad." Rain was pouring hard outside, striking the windshield now.
"Inova Fairfax, roger that. ETA approximately 4 minutes." He turned then and spoke to Eric. "Kid, I need your eyes. Help me locate the hospital in this rain. Look for the flare, okay?" Eric nodded, wiping his tears away and turning back to the front.
Red leaned close to Ressler, having heard the conversation from the cockpit. "You are not going to die today, do you hear me, Donald?"
"Don't you dare! Don't you die on me!" Liz begged him, squeezing the bag and filling his lungs with air, as her tears dripped onto his face. "Don't you die on me!"
Red was still talking to Ressler as he continued chest compressions. "Fight Donald! Show me that tenacious Special Agent Ressler who pursued me for years. Do you hear me?! FIGHT!"
Ressler did hear Red. In the black pit, that was deeper than previous visits to this dark place, he heard Red. But he also heard Liz. And while he did indeed want to prove to the man that he was still capable of keeping up with him, it was Liz he listened to. And because it really was worth it - because she was worth it - he fought back. With an effort, he stood in the black void and started walking unsteadily in the darkness. Walking toward the speck of light in the distance. Walking toward Liz.
Red was pressing down on Ressler's chest, listening to Liz sob beside him, when he felt a change. He stopped, quickly placed the stethoscope on his chest and listened.
There was a heart beat. And then another.
He held his hand out to Liz, touching her arm. "Stop..." She stopped squeezing the bag, terrified Ressler had died, when through her tears she saw Ressler's chest begin to slowly rise.
He was breathing.
She removed the bag from Ressler's face now, and leaned down to him, stroking his cheeks. Once again, she didn't know if she was laughing or crying.
Red was still listening to Ressler's heart. It was picking up a little though still painfully slow - but he was alive. He smiled at Liz. "He's a fighter. No doubt about it."
Liz nodded, tears streaming down her face, smiling in relief as she stroked Ressler's cheeks.
"There's the flare!" Eric called out to the pilot. He turned in the direction the kid was pointing, and there it was, a tiny red lifeline, burning in the pouring rain. The pilot adjusted course, and touched down on the helipad a minute later. Before the rotors had barely slowed the door was being pulled open.
Liz and Red moved aside as medics piled in, quickly assessing Ressler before the crash team took him, placing his limp body on their waiting gurney. Red was explaining to them about his broken ribs and spleen as they secured him, before they rushed off with him.
Ressler, drifting in the dark in his unconscious mind recognized the moment that Liz was no longer with him, holding his face in her warm hands. But that was okay. He was going to keep fighting.
Liz stepped out of the helicopter and stood by herself. It was all moving so quickly. She felt helpless as they took Ressler away, the team running into the building as they rushed him to a waiting OR. She knew he was in the best place he could be, but she hadn't wanted to let him go.
Another team arrived and loaded Phil onto their gurney, taking him inside at a more sedate pace, she noticed. She stood in the pouring rain, something that almost felt safe and familiar now after this long, wet weekend. The rain hid her tears. Red was suddenly beside her, putting his arms around her and holding her close.
"He's going to be okay, Lizzie."
And she knew that. She just didn't know why she couldn't stop crying.
###
It was dark as Liz stood looking out the hospital window watching the rain. Behind her, Ressler lay sleeping following his surgery, while Red dozed in the recliner.
Red had been right - as usual. Ressler was okay and had come through surgery, having had his pierced spleen repaired. He was weak, but stable. She turned from the window and looked at his monitors, seeing his heart beating at a healthy 67bpm, still receiving blood and fluids through his IVs. He looked peaceful as he slept, his tousled hair so unlike his usual look. His three day growth still in need of a shave on a face that had much more color in it now. She had seen him looking like that once before after Anslo Garrick, and for a moment she had to remind herself that he didn't have a gaping hole on his left thigh.
He moved his head a little, and she went to his bedside. He was waking up, his heart rate spiking a little on the monitor as he opened his eyes. He wondered for a moment where he was, before realizing he was in the hospital. He didn't like hospitals.
"You're okay... we got you to the hospital in time..." She told him, leaning down to him.
He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. She gave him a sip of water from his cup and he looked around, seeing Red on the recliner. Liz followed his gaze.
"Yeah, I guess with Dembe still with the team at the farm house, he doesn't have a driver to take him anywhere," she smiled softly, and Ressler nodded a little in agreement.
"Phil...?" he asked, his voice raspy and dry. He'd watched the guy almost sleep through their entire day, and wondered how he was doing.
"He's fine. He's across the hall. Eric is with him in his room," she told him, nodding toward the door.
He nodded, and looked at the water again. She held the straw to his mouth as he took another sip.
"Are you in pain?" She asked him gently, and he shook his head a little. He would be soon, he knew that, but not right now.
She quietly pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down as he rolled his head to the side to look at her. "You know, I have to say, you certainly know how to show a girl a good time. A picnic, two nights on a mountain, and a scenic flight at the end," she smiled at him.
"...least I... could do..." he whispered.
"That was a crazy three days..." she said, then smiled, "I guess the squirrels were right," she added, remembering the store keeper telling them about the approaching storm.
Ressler managed a smile at that. "...wasn't all bad..." he whispered, as she leaned forward to hear him. He was remembering something else too, as his shoulder was being reset.
"...did we...stop it...?" He asked her.
"The attack. Yeah, good old Aram did it again. He was in his element, surrounded by computers with a deadline to meet."
"...kay..."
She smiled at him again, seeing his sleepy eyes about to close. "We did it Ress... you sleep now...get some rest, and I'll stay right here..."
In the recliner behind them, Red smiled, listening to their conversation while they thought he slept. They do see it, he thought.
Ressler closed his eyes, feeling her holding his hand now. "...was...worth...it..." he whispered as he drifted off to sleep.
- The End -
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed my story - I had a blast writing it! And yeah, I didn't really want it to end either, but every story has a beginning and end, and I'd told the story. So time to leave them now :-) Thank you SO much for all the reviews - they meant a lot and kept me going! Thanks! :-)
I hope you didn't mind how much I had Ressler suffer! I just can't help myself when it comes to putting him through the wringer, because he suffers SO beautifully and looks so darned gorgeous while at it!
(PS - My medic's name "David Klassen"is a shout out to Diego Klattenhoff - I wanted it like his name without it being obvious :-)