Still parked at the lighthouse north of Rockport, Liz reached into the back seat of the car to retrieve her overnight bag and pulled out a jacket. At 3:35am, the air was getting colder around them. Beside her, Aram was still pouring over maps and satellite images. He was zooming back into the larger map after looking around yet another lighthouse, when he suddenly looked up.

"Oh, no." He looked quickly at her, half closing the laptop lid.

"What is it?" she asked him, slipping her warmer jacket on with difficulty as she sat in the driver's seat.

"I'm an idiot," he told her, looking at her, then glancing down and back to his laptop as he reopened the lid fully.

"Aram, you're one of the smartest people I know. You are not an idiot," she smiled and briefly touched his arm.

"Liz, look at this map. What do you see?" swiveling his laptop further around, he had a map of the Maine coast, with red dots all over it marking individual lighthouses.

She looked at it, "I see the coast and the lighthouses we've been looking at..." she ventured, raising her eyebrows and looking up at him in question.

"Aaaannnd…" he drew out the word, motioning with his head to the screen.

"Oh, my god." Seeing it in front of her, laid out with the red dots it became so clear. "We've only been looking on the coastline!"

"Exactly. We need to look at the lighthouses out in the harbor. On the islands." His dark eyes looked at her again. "I'm sorry. I should have seen that earlier. I don't know why I didn't." Wondering briefly if the chloroform had done permanent damage, he shook his head and began to zoom in on the nearest island to them that had a lighthouse.

"There can't be many islands with a large building that could have been a hospital or a prison," she told him, as he changed his search parameters.

Typing 'island' and 'hospital' didn't bring up anything of value. Nor did 'island' and 'prison', so sticking to his original search, he zoomed in on the next island that had a lighthouse. Zooming out around it, there were a few homes and a private landing strip, but nothing that had a high brick wall around it.

"Assuming they're on an island, we're going to need a boat," she told him, thinking ahead as he continued looking. "Not just any boat. We need the Coast Guard," she told him, then started searching on her phone for the nearest base.

It didn't take long. "There is one in Rockland about 20 miles south of Rockport," she told him hurriedly, trying to decide if she call ahead or just start driving. Her confidence in her colleague to find them was 100 percent. Unable to just sit there, she started the engine and backed out of the parking space. Aram was so busy searching he barely noticed they were moving until she reminded him to put his seatbelt on.

Driving south again, they soon came again to the Inn and both looked to see if the black SUV was still there. It was. Still parked where Liz had seen it a few hours ago.

"Well, that's not scary at all," Aram said quietly, then nervously looked at his laptop before soon becoming engrossed in his virtual search again. Not stopping this time, they drove through Rockport and continued south along the coast road. As she drove, the far off beams of the lighthouses caught her attention across the dark bay. They took on new meaning now.

"Liz! I found it!" he exclaimed beside her. Unable to look at what he'd seen, she looked for a shoulder wide enough to pull off onto safely, and saw a scenic stop ahead. Pulling in and stopping the engine, she leaned over as he quickly showed her a small island, complete with a lighthouse on the northern point. A large wooded area, and then a clearing with a large complex toward the center of the island. A dark brick building, almost black, complete with a high brick wall surrounding it. The sign on the map was right in front of her. 'Cedar Island Sanatorium'

"That's it! Aram, you found them!" she grinned at him, "Perhaps we shouldn't mention to them that they locked them up in a mental hospital," she smiled as he returned to the map, already working out the coordinates. "Okay, it looks to be about 15 miles off the coast as the crow flies, or as the boat sails, from the Coast Guard base," he told her. "We're actually closer to it from here." He turned his laptop and held it up, lining it up with the lighthouse beams they could currently see out on the water before them.

"It's that one! See it? To the left, over there…fainter than the others," and showing her which pinpoint of light it was, she brought her hands to her face and just looked at the small beacon far off in the ocean. They had found them. She just hoped her stubborn partner was okay, knowing he had a penchant for minimizing the details where he was concerned.

###

"At the risk of repeating my earlier question, Donald. Can you stand?" Red asked Ressler, but this time Ressler didn't answer. His body had apparently gone AWOL, because he sure as hell couldn't get it to do anything. Attempting again to rise, all he could move was his neck and shoulders about an inch off the rocks before laying back down. He was incredibly uncomfortable with the severe pain. And both cold and hot. Internally, he was burning up. Yet on the outside, with his wet hair and clothes and the ocean breeze blowing across him his extremities were cold.

The worst of it was that lying on the cold rocks was just like lying on the cold steel bed in the box. The only difference was that this time it was his gut slowly killing him, not his leg. Either way, he was screwed. And in an agonizing similarity, Reddington was leaning over him in concern. He closed his eyes to block out the sight and the memory. And through his closed eyes, tears rolled silently downward and trickled into his ears. He couldn't speak to Red. All he could feel was his body fast abandoning him and being powerless to stop it.

Red could see the difference in the drips of seawater coming off Ressler's hair and the tears rolling slowly from his closed eyes. Resisting the urge to pat the agent's shoulder, he looked away, giving Ressler a moment. A sudden thought came to him. He had dropped his phone nearby. That's why he'd ended up in the drink. Rolling back up off his knees, he began to search the rocks. Could he possibly be that lucky that the phone would still be on dry land? And be usable? He'd never been THAT lucky. It usually didn't play a part in Reddington's plans. But anything was possible.

Ressler heard Red scrambling around the rocks but didn't open his eyes. He just hoped like hell Red wouldn't fall in again. Because he really didn't feel like pulling him out again. And lying on the rocky ground, the only thing he felt he could accomplish well was to sleep. To rest. To hurt. To die.

Red continued looking on the rocks at his feet, stopping each time the lighthouse beam headed off, then resuming the search as it came back around. Apparently the luck Gods were shining on him tonight. Wedged in a small indent in the rocks, some four feet from the water's edge he found his phone, eyeing it with a smiling tilt of his head. But would it work, was the question. Standing on the rocks and not letting Ressler in on his find just yet, he turned it on. And got nothing. But as he turned it in his hand as the beam of light illuminated the phone again, he saw why. The back was off slightly. Pulling it off and re-seating the battery and Sim card, he popped the back on and tried again. And this time the phone lit up, casting a pale blue glow on his face. And looking across at Ressler, he typed a text. He wasn't good at typing on these darn things, but he typed it anyway and hit Send.

As the text went on its way, he looked out at the dark ocean, breathing in the wonderful aroma. A smell he had known and embraced all his life. Looking toward Ressler again he waited for the reply to his text. And there it was, almost immediately.

[Appendicitis?! Yes, call me! Let me talk to him!]

Nodding to his phone as if he were nodding to her, he walked back over to Ressler as he dialed the number. Not saying a word as he heard her answer in his ear, he sat down beside Ressler again and placed the phone to Ressler's ear.

"Donald, there is someone who wishes to speak with you."

Ressler wasn't sure what Red was saying until he heard Liz's voice in his ear.

"Ress! We know where you are!"

"Liz..." His voice hitched with pain and tears, and she heard it immediately.

"I know…Aram found you and we're coming. I don't know how long yet, but I'll be there as soon as we can. You hang in there, okay?" her voice was soft and caring in his ear.

"Liz… I can't… I don't…" He couldn't explain to her how bad he felt physically and how good he felt hearing her. Couldn't tell her that he needed her. And it wasn't because Red was right there. It was evident Red already knew.

"Ress, I know…" he hadn't needed to tell her. "Red just told me about your appendix. We're on our way to the Coast Guard and we'll be coming and bringing you what you need. You hang in there for me… Please. You have to hang on, Ress." He could hear the tears in her words now, and see her in his mind. Could almost see her looking down at him instead of Red. "Do you hear me?"

He heard her. And raising his hand, discovering it would actually obey him now, he took the phone from Red's hand and held it himself now. "Liz, I… I need you," he panted, confiding in her in now, his tears still rolling silently from his closed eyes. He'd told her. He'd let her in. "I'm... not doing so good."

"I know, and I'll be there soon and bring you help," she reassured him, and for a moment he couldn't answer. Could only lie in pain on the wet rocks and cry, and know she was listening to his tears.

"Stay strong. Hang in there Ress…" she cried, her voice choking up. "Do you hear me? Stay strong for me."

He opened his eyes and saw the Milky Way stretching across the sky above him. Majestic and clear, it ran from horizon to horizon. And underneath that beautiful star field, he promised her. "I will."

He flipped the phone shut and closed his eyes again, feeling Red gently take the phone from his hand. He lay there a few more moments, feeling the ocean breeze against his wet cheeks. He held onto her last words, seeing her in his mind and slowly his tears eased.

He turned his head slightly and looked up at Red, Liz's words loud in his head. 'Stay strong for me.'

"Help me up."

Beside him, Red got his arms under Ressler's shoulders and pushed him up to a sitting position, hearing Ressler's sharp intake of breath as he did so. Leaning against Red, he turned his head to him. "I need you to help me to that lighthouse," he panted, "because I am not going to lay here on these rocks and let my stomach win this one."

And behind him, as Ressler turned his gaze back to the sky, drawing his feet up in preparation to stand, Red smiled in silent satisfaction. He had known what medicine Ressler had needed to get him moving again.

###

Liz hung up the phone and drew her eyes away from Ressler's distant lighthouse for a moment, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Beside her, Aram had put his laptop away, his search complete and looked quietly at her, completely at a loss what to do. He'd heard the conversation. She'd made him tear up himself. Whatever he felt for Samar, and he wasn't really sure what that was, it paled in comparison to the bond between his two colleagues. He'd seen it developing slowly, unsure if they could even see it. Were they too close to see it like an outsider could? But sitting beside Liz, feeling like he was eavesdropping on a very intimate conversation he had realized how acutely aware of it they were.

"Why don't you sit here? And I'll drive," he told her and without waiting for a reply he was already out of the car and walking quickly around to the driver's side. Holding the door open for her, she climbed out, patted his chest and then walked around to the passenger side. As she strapped herself in, he made his way back onto the coast road and continued south to Rockland. He glanced at her a few times, but when it became clear she was lost in thought, he let her be.

As the lights of Rockland came into view, she consulted her phone, then punched the address of the Coast Guard into the GPS. It wasn't necessary though, being well signposted, and before long they came alongside the warehouses and landing area of the Coast Guard's base. A large boat sporting the name 'Thunder Bay' was anchored to the jetty and two orange and white helicopters sat ready on the tarmac, lit by floodlights from the hangar.

Stepping into the combination office, meeting room and break room they found three men dressed in blue jumpsuits playing cards at a small table. Charts and maps lined the walls, pinned up amongst photos of helicopter rescues, swimmers in the water, capsized boats, and orange jumpsuit clad men arm in arm with their thumbs up to the camera.

"Help you folks?" asked the older of the trio, rising from the card game, looking out from under his black USCG cap in welcome.

Liz held out her ID to the man and stepped forward, noting his name tag said 'Marshall'. "I hope so. Federal agents Keen and Mojtabai. We have a Federal agent experiencing a medical emergency on an island about 15 miles off the coast," she told him as the youngest of the trio came over.

"What sort of medical emergency?" he asked her, simultaneously waiting for her reply and motioning to the third guy to get his gear.

"Appendicitis," she told Phillips, noticing his name tag, and Marshall nodded and picked up the radio.

"Which island?" Evans, the last of the trio asked.

Aram had the coordinates ready and handed them across. "It has the Cedar Island Sanatorium on it, and they are at the lighthouse," he explained, as Marshall hit the button on the radio.

"Deeks, get the RB-M out of the shed. We're heading out to Cedar. Wake up Shanks. Appendicitis." Flipping the switch, he replaced the mic and turned back to Liz and Aram.

"If you folks will head this way, we'll get you safely stowed on board." Turning, he motioned to Evans who came over and handed them two life jackets. Aram turned to Liz, speaking in a low voice, "Well, that was easy."

She nodded to Aram. "Something needs to be in this long night."

Following Marshall, they exited through the back door of the office and stepped out onto the jetty. As the response boat came around it left a large wake, causing the Thunder Bay beside them to rock on the waves. Watching Marshall jump on board and join two men - Deeks and Shanks, she assumed - Aram turned back to her again. "Um, I guess now isn't a good time to mention that I don't like boats?"

She smiled at him, hearing the similarity to her partner complaining every time they went near a boat. And sobering, she could hear his voice in her head again. 'Liz, I need you.'

"I'm coming, Ress," she whispered, unheard among the men around her.

"Here we go folks, let's get you on board, shall we?" said Evans, and proceeded to help them climb onto the small boat.

###

Ressler was really trying not to lean on Reddington so heavily but was finding that difficult. His little swim in the ocean had all but sapped what strength he'd had left. Adjusting his hold yet again, he attempted to walk more under his own steam, but was unsuccessful. Red simply glanced at him as he supported his weight.

"Donald, leaning on someone isn't a sign of weakness. It's a sign of trust."

Glancing at Red silently, he took in the words, then ceased fidgeting and let the criminal help him to the lower level of the lighthouse. There were times he marveled at Red's simple yet profound outlook on life. And not for the first time, he found himself thankful he had not succeeded in his mission in Brussels.

It was slow going and now they were going up an incline. Grunting with pain, Ressler grimaced as each step on the rocky ground sent shards of pain through his abdomen. But he was damn well not going to complain, and kept on going as he glanced up at the light streaming out of the open lighthouse door. Approaching the concrete walkway as Red started to help him off the rocks and onto steadier ground, he felt Red stiffen under him. Lifting his head, he couldn't see what had caught Red's attention.

"We may have a problem, my friend."

"Really? Just one?" Ressler asked him, as he stepped tentatively on the concrete walkway, glad to have solid ground under his feet – and a railing to hang onto.

"Over there to our left, under the trees," said Red, motioning with his head as he stood beside Ressler.

As the beam came around again, Ressler focused his eyes to where Red had indicated, and saw what had got his attention. Three men, dressed in dark clothing, standing under the trees.

"Think they've seen us?" Ressler asked Red, unable to take his eyes off them now as each sweep of the light illuminated them. They were still some distance off and motionless. But they certainly weren't out for a night stroll, pausing to enjoy the view.

"I can guarantee it. We're standing in the only light around here. What I am unsure of is why they haven't made a move yet."

Ressler nodded, leaning further onto the railing. "We need to get inside," he panted.

"Agreed."

Holding the railing, Ressler began to drag himself toward the doorway. It was still about 50 feet away from him. But he'd make it. He'd promised Liz. And he was leaning on the railing, head hanging down wondering if he was about to throw up again, when he about fell flat on his butt from surprise.

"Oh, God!"

His cry reached Red and he turned, and then saw exactly what Ressler had seen. From seemingly nowhere a man had appeared, standing some 20 feet below the walkway, motioning frantically as if for them to follow him.

"Conrad!" Red said beside him, recognizing the man, and all Ressler could do was look at the man and wonder what he was seeing. The man was… odd.

"Donald. Change of plans. We're going that way." Red informed him, now turning him around on the railing and heading toward the end of the walkway.

Ressler was almost too exhausted to argue. But remembering their three guests in the trees, he turned, only to find they were no longer in their former positions.

"Shit. They've moved," he told Red, and began to move a little faster himself as the pain in his gut threatened to drop him to his knees. They could no longer see the three men. But before them, Conrad was making his way up the rocks toward them. Pulling himself up level with them, he stood before them for a moment as all three sized each other up.

Ressler dropped, hunching over as he clutched the railing. Conrad jumped to his side and just as Red was doing on the other side, he hoisted Ressler's arm over his shoulder. And between them they got him moving faster. He wasn't walking. Not even jogging. He was simply being dragged as his feet tried to stay upright.

Behind them, the three men were coming toward them. Red stole a glance back at them, seeing them in the next beam of light. Ressler couldn't look up and almost stumbling as they dragged him, they hauled him between them, running from the three armed men who were gaining on them.

He might not be able to walk or run, but there was nothing wrong with his ears. "Listen!" Ressler hissed, to the two men who had now heard it also.

"Medium sized boat. 35 knots. Heading this way," Red told him, breathing heavily with the effort of dragging the agent. Ressler managed to lift his head and stare at him. He'd ascertained all that just from that sound?

"Liz…" he told Red, the sound came closer and they dragged him between him. She had come, just as she'd promised. In the distance they could hear the Coast Guard vessel's change of pitch as it turned, approaching the island.

"Almost there!" Conrad grunted to them, approaching the cliff face from below. It rose about 15 feet in the air above them, grey granite rocks, and a few scrubby shrubs clinging relentlessly despite the proximity to the salt water.

"Where?!" asked Red. He wasn't one for stumbling blindly into a situation, but right now, he was at a loss. But common sense told him Conrad Lucas had not appeared from thin air. He had come from somewhere.

A gunshot fired behind them, as granite rocks shattered at the impact of the bullet in front of them.

"Liz," panted Ressler. He raised his head and could hear the Coast Guard now. They were close. They needed to get here. Come on Liz.

###

On the Coast Guard vessel, Liz hunkered down in the survivor cabin as Aram sat across from her. A small area that could seat about six, it was underneath the main wheelhouse where the four seamen were situated. As the boat had first left the harbor, it had sat straight and upright in the water and she'd been on deck. But as they gained speed, turning into the wind on a course for the island, the bow of the boat rose. Its upward movement making the stern feel rather precarious, Aram had made a hasty retreat to the cabin. After a couple of minutes of looking at the dark ocean, wanting to see the island approach, she'd relented and gone and joined him to stay drier.

"How long will it take?" she called up to Evans, who had seemingly appointed himself passenger liaison.

"On this baby? Oh, she'll get us there in about fifteen," he called back down to them, his voice raised above the engines. "She's a little beauty, isn't she?" he asked proudly, and Liz had to agree.

Aram wasn't so enthusiastic. He just wanted to get on solid ground and not think about having to get back on this boat for the return trip.

Ten minutes out of Rockland, they were bypassing an island off to their right, and Liz couldn't resist coming out on deck as they passed it. Looking up with her renewed appreciation of lighthouses, she watched this one from the deck as the waves sprayed her, and suddenly didn't care how wet she got. She was going to stay on deck and watch Ressler's lighthouse grow in her view, until she set eyes on him.

Passing the squat, square lighthouse to their right and leaving it behind them, now she turned her attention to the bow as Evans came and sat beside her. He pointed to the lighthouse ahead of them now. "There's Cedar," he told her, and she gazed at it. Tall and white, it was beautiful. After all their searching for hours on this long night, there was the very lighthouse they'd sought.

"Aram!" she called to him. He had to see this.

"Yes?" He popped his head out of the safety of the cabin and she waved him over. "Oh, okay…"

"Look!" she grinned and pointed and as he gripped the rail and turned, he saw what she was pointing to. And suddenly he didn't care how wet he got either. "Oh my. Agent Ressler's and Mr Reddington's lighthouse!" he called back to her, his grin apparent now.

They were closing in, and Evans pointed again. "We can't come in on the far side of the lighthouse where you said your partner was, but we can beach on this near side. See that little inlet?" he shouted to her, and she saw it. A small patch of sand underneath a small cliff face rising up out of the sea.

As they approached, the beam of the lighthouse illuminated them on each rotation. She was now in the same beams of light hitting Ressler and Reddington, and tears sprang suddenly to her eyes. Aram looked back at her.

"I see them!"

Rising to her feet, she'd seen them too. But something wasn't right. As Marshall cut the engines for them to coast into the beach, Evans stood up and readied the anchor. "We'll go ashore in the dinghy, as the boat can't get right on the beach," he told her, but she wasn't listening now.

Red and someone else were dragging Ressler between him. Her heart leapt as she stood at the rail, craning to see what was happening. They were moving fast. As if something, or someone was after them.

"Liz!" Aram called to her as they heard a gunshot, even above the sound of the engines.

"No!" They were being fired on, running with someone else to safety.

"We need to get to them now!" she shouted at Evans, who was also watching. Looking down at her, he nodded. "We will! Hang on! We're going in!"

Below them, the hull of the boat slowed and then stopped about 20 feet from shore. Evans rushed to toss the anchor, then began to lower the dinghy.

Another shot rang out and Red went down, dropping Ressler with him. "No! Ress!" Turning to Evans, she could see the dinghy being lowered. It was too slow.

"Damn it!" And before anyone could stop her she jumped. Hitting the cold water, she sank down a little, but was then buoyed straight back up with her life jacket. A rope whizzed by her head, with an orange lifesaving ring attached that splashed down near her. She ignored it. She didn't need it.

Swimming now with strong strokes she approached the shore within moments. Her feet soon hit sand and running from the water, she ran up the beach to where Red was now back on his feet, and he and the other man had Ressler up between them.

"Ress!" she yelled and Red looked up toward her, motioning her back to the safety of the boat.

From over the rocks, she could see who was firing at them. Three men in black. The same men who had ambushed them. As Aram yelled at her from behind she ran straight up the beach. Toward Ressler.

###

Another shot rang out, going wide as Red dragged Ressler up toward the cliff face. He couldn't make out where they were going, until a bush was suddenly pulled out of the way by Conrad and an opening appeared. A tunnel in the rocks, approximately 8 feet square.

Ressler was being dragged inside now, no longer able to stand. His head hung limp as spots swam before his eyes. He could see very little. And could hear even less. As he faded, approaching that blackness of unconsciousness the one thing he did hear was Liz yelling his name. It was the last thing he heard before the blackness mercifully consumed him, lessening the burning pain in his gut. She was here.

Red felt Ressler go completely limp right as they got to the tunnel entrance. As they dragged him inside, Conrad side stepped a stack of boxes. They barely had room to squeeze by them. More shots were firing around them. He had ascertained he, for once, was not their target. They were firing at Conrad, having waited for him to be drawn out. It was a moot point though, as the bullets whizzed by.

About 20 feet down the tunnel, he turned back and saw Liz at the entrance, almost to it. "Come on Lizzie!" he now called, still dragging the unconscious Ressler to safety. Another bullet came, going wide and missing its mark again and landing on one of the stacked boxes.

The boxes were filled with bottles of Colloidal Silver. Highly flammable colloidal silver. As the bullet embedded itself into the box the heat from the gunpowder radiated out into the silver compound and a chain reaction began. A spark ignited as Liz ran by the boxes. And when she was three feet from them a small flame reached up, and by the time she had reached six feet from the boxes, they caught fire, flames snaking up to the box above it, and starting another chain reaction within it.

When she was 10 feet inside the tunnel, with Red stopped some 20 feet in front of her sitting on the ground with Ressler, the boxes behind her ignited and exploded, throwing her off her feet and causing Red to duck and drop over Ressler in protection. Beside him, Conrad Lucas was thrown to the ground as the shock wave reverberated down the tunnel.

The next box exploded and then another, and as the explosion obliterated the entrance to the tunnel, the support beams failed. Shattered they crashed to the ground, bringing rocks, wood beams and dirt thundering down into the tunnel. Red ducked, breathing in the billowing cloud of dust, but their ceiling above them held fast. As the dust billowed down the tunnel, he could no longer see anything. From beside him, a flashlight shone as Conrad stood, shining it down the tunnel. Some 10 feet in front of them the tunnel had completely collapsed.

Red rose to his feet in horror. It had collapsed on Liz.

"Lizzie!" Walking toward the pile of debris, Conrad ran to hold him back.

"The whole thing could cave in! We have to get further back!"

Red turned on him and in the flashlight, his features were unyielding. "She is in there!" he pointed back to the pile as dust still settled around them.

And in answer, a scream came to him from the debris pile. He ran to the pile and yelled back to her "Lizzie!"

And pinned in the dark with a beam on top of her, surrounded by boulders and dirt and dust, Liz could do nothing but scream in terror.