Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Cautiously, Chance removed the duct tape from Ilsa's mouth.
"I thought you'd spent the evening with that private detective friend of yours", she stated small-talk like, as if he had not just found her sedated and chained to a heating pipe.
"Guerrero sent me a text message - left boss at office. Thought I'd better check on you."
"Well, that was very kind of you, Mr. Chance. I really appreciate your help." Swaying slightly, she got to her feet.
"Care to explain why Guerrero sedated, chained and duct taped you? Granted, by his standards he was going easy on you, but it'd still be interesting to know what you did to somewhat, well, upset him."
"I tried to slip him a sedative and he swapped glasses."
Perfectly normal tone of conversation, perfectly insane statement.
"You realize that's not exactly an explanation, do you?"
Ilsa pressed her lips together and rubbed her wrists. "Last time you and Guerrero were sparring in the office, I noticed some unusually dark liver spots on his back and shoulders. I told him a friend of mine, a world-famous dermatologist, could take a look at them, but he would have none of it. So I thought I'd sedate him a little, then call in my friend..."
"And people call my plans crazy…"
… … …
"You realize I ended up in foster care after my dad died of cancer?"
"Este aspirador dispone como accesorio un tubo prolongador telescópico", Guerrero replied.
Totally puzzled, Ames stared at him.
"Chance said that's "Mind your own business" in Spanish."
"He was making fun of you."
… … …
"I know you've got a reputation to protect, but she only wants to help you", Chance told Guerrero over a glass of Bourbon. "And she does have a point."
"Invasion of privacy, dude."
The image of a ghostly white, skeleton-thin Guerrero in a hospital bed jumped at Chance and for a moment the room seemed to lurch upside down. "Just don't want to lose you to something I can't kill in revenge, man", he said.
… … …
Winston offered Ilsa a cream-filled chocolate donut which she refused. Absent-mindedly she watched Guerrero eating cereals at Winston's desk while hacking into somebody's computer system. Winston followed her gaze.
"Good bait catches fine fish", he told her.
Ilsa studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then she understood. Smiling, she reached for the cream-filled donut.
… … …
The woman caught Guerrero's attention the second she walked out of the elevator. Bright blond her put up in a strict bun, subtle but perfect make-up, elegant gray business costume, slender legs and matching high heels – definitely a sight for sore eyes. More fascinating to him, however, was the way she carried herself. The straight-forward way she walked and the well-tempered way she talked spoke of private schools, family pride and a house on the hill. His fingers were itching to loosen that bun.
After a short conversation with the visitor, Ilsa called Guerrero into her office and introduced the woman as Alexandra O'Neal, a friend of hers.
"Nice costume", Guerrero said, wolfish smile on his face.
"We'd like to ask you to take your shirt off, Mr. Guerrero", Ilsa stated firmly. "Alexandra is the world-famous dermatologist I told you about."
Guerrero's facial expression turned wolfish grim. Wordlessly he turned around with the full intention to walk straight out the door. But then he saw Chance playing with Carmine in the middle of the entrance area and Winston and Ames lurking in the background, all of them trying very hard to pretend they were not intently watching him.
Guerrero sighed.
"I guess you want to see the spots on my back first", he said, still facing the glass door of Ilsa's office.
Slowly he started unbuttoning his shirt.