FORGOTTEN MEMORIES!—7

Joe opened his eyes and glanced nervously around the room. The pain in his head was threatening to engulf his whole body. The terror of the beatings followed him from his sleep and his body trembled as he realized the nightmare might never be over. His eyes lit on the two sleeping figures on the chairs and recognition dawned on him.

Mannix shook the last of the cobwebs from his sleep drenched mind, instantly regretting the agonizing flair of pain the motion caused. He bit back the cry of pain threatening to force its way past his dry lips and closed his eyes. He needed to be able to think clearly, but nothing seemed able to penetrate the thick wall he'd placed over his memories. 'Who the hell are you?' he thought as the woman's face appeared before his tightly clenched eyes. "Why can't I remember?" he grated out. He did realize he'd asked the question aloud until a soft hand touched his shoulder and he opened his eyes to look into the soft dark eyes of the woman he'd come to care so much about.

"Are you all right, Joe?" she asked as she slowly massaged his shoulder.

Mannix nodded, ignoring the pain as her hands soothed some of the tension from his muscles. "I'm okay, Peg," he lied.

Peggy smiled at the injured man, knowing he was lying in order to keep her from worrying. She continued the gentle massage and watched as his face slowly relaxed. Some of the pain left the handsome features. She wondered if he would ever be free of the torment she could see in his eyes. "Sure you are," she said softly.

One side of his mouth curved up in a pale imitation of the smile she loved so much. "You know me too well, Peggy," he told her.

"That's right and you should know by now you can't hide things from me."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said as the door opened admitting Doctor Marseilles and Art Malcolm into the room. "When can I get outta here, Doc?" he asked.

"I thought we agreed on two days from now unless something turned up in the tests. You just have to be patient a little longer," the doctor told his patient.

Joe smiled sheepishly and knew he was pushing it, but he wanted out. He wanted the warmth and comfort of his home. The faster he was released from the hospital the faster he'd be home resting in his own bed. 'I need to be home if I want to have any chance of finding you,' he thought as the woman's face began to clear in his mind. "I've never been patient, Doc," he said tiredly.

Marseilles began examining the injured man. He checked the incision from the surgery on his abdomen. He inspected the head wounds and the healing ribs. Finally he took a small penlight and shone it in his patient's eyes. He could tell the man was trying to hide the pain he was in. "So far the test results are very promising. Give me the two days we talked about, Mr. Mannix. That's all I ask."

"All right, Doc," Mannix agreed, the headache intensifying to an unbearable level. He clenched his eyes in an effort to quell the nausea rising in his stomach. He felt a needle inserted in his left hip and waited for the medication to take hold and relieve the agony. "T...thanks," he mumbled as he felt his body relax.

"You should let the nurses know when you need something, Mr. Mannix," Marseilles told him. "There's no need of being strong all the time."

Mannix opened his eyes and looked gratefully at the man caring for him. "I hate having to take anything," he answered honestly.

"I can tell." The doctor smiled as the injured man's eyes slid closed. He looked to the other people in the room and knew they understood the man on the bed. "You're going to have to make sure he doesn't overdo things once he's released from here. He's going to need to see his doctor back home. He's going to need to have physiotherapy on his leg. He's got to realize he's not going to overcome this overnight. He's going to need to rest and let his body heal."

"That's easier said than done, Doc," Malcolm observed as he stood over the pale form on the bed. "Joe's never been one to stay down no matter what the odds. He was poisoned once and refused to stay at the hospital. He said he'd be more help out looking for the guy who poisoned him than lying in a hospital getting stuck with needles. It's going to be hard to keep him down when someone's out to get him."

"Well, Lieutenant, you and Mrs. Fair better do the best you can to make him rest. He's had major surgery on his abdomen. He's still suffering from the effects of a massive concussion and I haven't even mentioned the broken bones. If it was up to me I'd keep him here for at least another week maybe two, but I doubt Mr. Mannix would agree to that."

"I don't think so either," Peggy agreed as she gently took her boss's hand in her own.

Marseilles smiled at the intimate gesture, knowing there was more than a boss-employee relationship between these two people. He'd noticed the unusual relationship from the start and knew what he was seeing was very real and very unique. He hoped they would have a chance at real happiness and not have it taken away by whoever was doing this to his patient. "He needs time to heal. I want you to keep an eye on him for post traumatic stress disorder when I do release him. He's been having flashbacks and they'll probably continue for some time. There may come a time when he needs to talk to someone about what happened," he held up his hands as the two people went to speak. "I mean a professional…someone who can step back and let him talk through his feeling. PTSD is very dangerous and should not be taken lightly.

"I'll mention it to Dr. Lewis when we get back home," Peggy promised.

Marseilles nodded slightly. "I'll be sending my recommendations to him as well. I have to check on a couple of test results, but from all indications I will be releasing him in two days. Make sure you arrange everything for when you get home. I'll be sending a prescription for painkillers with him so make sure it's filled and that he takes them when needed."

"We will, Doctor," Malcolm assured him as the doctor left them once more.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

True to his word Marseilles signed the release papers two days later. Joe sat in a wheelchair in his room, gazing out at the brightly lit street. The sun was shining down on the city of New Orleans and he wondered how something so beautiful could instil a sense of terror in him. He vividly remembered running through the darkened streets and the eminent impact of the car striking his body. He tensed in the chair, grimacing as his healing body protested the movement. 'I'll come back and I'll find you,' he vowed as he watched the busy street below. He was so involved in his thoughts he didn't hear the door open or the woman as she called out to him. He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder and he turned tired, tear filled eyes on the woman he'd grown so fond of. "S...sorry," he mumbled as he placed his left hand over hers and tried to hide the despair he was feeling.

Peggy knelt before the wheelchair and watched the handsome face. She checked her own emotions as she realized this man was coming home where he belonged. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Joe," she assured him.

"Yes I do, Peg. Worried all of you."

"Of course we were worried. We care about you, Joe, and we need you in our lives."

Mannix turned back to the window in order to keep her from seeing the all too real fear he felt. Fear of the unknown, fear of what the future might hold, and worst of all the fear of losing her. His body shuddered as he remembered the pain of the final beating and he tried once more to see the woman who'd given the order for it.

Peggy felt the slight tremble and knew Joe was reliving the ordeal he'd gone through. She wondered if he'd ever be able to get past all of this. She smiled as she realized that question didn't need to be answered. Joe Mannix would persevere. He would defeat this unknown enemy and be stronger for it. 'I'll be there to help you, Joe,' she silently vowed as the door opened and Malcolm and Marseilles entered the room.

"Mr. Mannix, against my better judgement I've released you. We've gone over the things you should and should not do so I guess there's nothing else but to get you out of here. I've given Lieutenant Malcolm your prescription and he'll get it filled on the way to the airport."

"Thanks, Doc," Mannix said gratefully.

"You're welcome. Just take care of yourself."

"I'll make sure he does, Doctor," Peggy assured the man.

"I'm certain you will," Marseilles told her. He walked beside the three people as they exited the room. Once outside they were joined by two uniformed policemen who'd be escorting them to the airport.

Joe sat in his chair, rubbing his left hand against the annoying throb in his temples. He kept his eyes closed as they wheeled him onto an elevator and outside to a waiting car. He bit back a groan as he was lifted into the back of a car, regretting his decision to turn down the option of riding to the airport in an ambulance.

The ride to the airport was uneventful and they only stopped long enough to fill the prescription from the doctor. They checked in at the airport and made their way to the plane. It wasn't long before Joe was seated in a luxurious first class seat and a stewardess was passing him a pillow and a blanket. Her sympathetic eyes added a warmth to Mannix's cheeks as he felt her help Peggy cover him up. He heard Peggy asking for a glass of water, explaining the need for him to take the medication that would help ease the pain in his body.

He gratefully accepted the two pills and swallowed them with the water. "Thanks," he muttered softly.

"You're welcome," Peggy said as she sat beside him. "Why don't you try to rest?"

"I think I will," he said as he unconsciously let his head slide onto her shoulder.

Peggy smiled as his breathing evened out and she knew he was sleeping. She smiled as Malcolm took the seat across from her, grateful to have him so close. She knew there were a couple of plainclothes detectives onboard, but she didn't know them by sight. She pulled the blankets up over the sleeping form and settled down for the long ride home.

MANNIX-MANNIX-MANNIX

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ma'am, they left New Orleans this afternoon and should be arriving in Los Angeles sometime this afternoon."

Alexandra Pulverante smiled at the man before her. This was the news she'd been waiting for. "Soon, Joseph, very soon." The smile turned into an evil sneer as she thought about what Joseph Mannix cost her. She vowed to make him pay for what he'd done and soon the time to fulfil that vow would be at hand.

"What do you want us to do?" one of the men asked.

"Nothing," she answered simply.

"Nothing?" the second one asked worriedly.

"That's right. Nothing at all. I want him to get comfortable. To feel safe again before I bring him back where he belongs. I have plans to make him suffer for everything he's done to me. It's just a matter of time until my need for revenge against that young man is sated. Keep me informed of his whereabouts and his recovery at all times."

"Yes ma'am," the first man assured her.

Al walked to the small Rose garden at the back of the small cottage she was staying in. The money she'd stashed away in Swiss bank accounts did little to alleviate the pain of her lost position in the organization she'd been head of. Now those people snubbed her as if she was nothing. As if they'd been the ones to make it a success. She stopped at a small circular table and picked up the photo of Joe Mannix and crumpled it menacingly. She'd cut it from the LA Times the day she'd kidnapped him. "You will die, Joseph. This is my promise to you," she vowed as she plucked a rose from its stem. She ignored the sharp thorns and watched as blood seeped from the wounds in her palm. She let the crimson liquid drip onto the ruined photo, smiling as she realized the symbolic gesture she'd just made. "Your blood will be flowing soon," she laughed as she poured Brandy from a decanter and downed the fiery liquid.