Nate awoke in a strange room. A good enough reason to send a rush of fear through him immediately. Instinctively he checked for a possible escape route. There were two large windows to his left, but the view suggested he was at least on the fourth floor of the building if not higher.
Two doors. Were they locked?
"Okay, relax, Nate", he tried to tell himself, "How bad could it possibly be, right? You're still alive and breathing and currently lying in... a clean bed."
He slowly looked around, his head was pounding and his neck felt stiff.
The room had a notable lack of color, all white, with a high ceiling and no pictures on the walls.
Where the hell was he?
Then he noticed a low humming, like from an old electronic device.
And, yes, there was some sort of device standing on a bedside table next to the bed.

It slowly dawned on him where he was. Not that he'd ever been in a place like this, at least not that he could remember.
But... who'd brought him here? And why wasn't he dead...? Hadn't the American guy been after them and-... them!
Elena!
He'd blacked out and left the girl there in the sewer tunnel all by herself!
The pang of guilt he felt hurt even more than his throbbing head.
Nate rubbed his chest, as though this would help as a sharp pain shot up his arm.
Pain, pain and more pain...this was getting old...

Only then Nate noticed the needle that was stuck into his arm.
A thin tube was attached to the thing that went up to a bag filled with a clear liquid, slowly dripping into the tube. What were they giving him? Drugs?
Okay, time to get out of here and find Elena.

Nate hectically pulled out the needle which only hurt a little, spraying some of the liquid from the tube over the sheets.
He threw back the blanket and realized he wasn't wearing his own clothes anymore.
He was wearing a light blue...dress. And apparently nothing else.
The thought that someone had undressed him while he had been unconscious had a lump forming in his throat.
He pushed himself up from his elbows into a sitting position and forced his tired body to stand up.

The tiled floor felt cool under his naked feet.
Standing wasn't a problem, he gratefully noted. If only it weren't for these terrible headaches. With every rapid beat of his heart his head felt like it was about to explode.
He carefully made his way to the door to his left, finding a small bathroom with a sink, shower and toilet behind it.
No signs of his shoes or clothing. Great.
He shuffled towards the other door. This had to be the way out.

He opened the door and peeked out, looking out onto a long aisle. There were many other doors on both sides. But not a single person in sight. Good.
Nate tiptoed as best as he could down the hall until he found a map of the building on the wall marking the emergency exits. It showed that there was one not too far from here just around the corner.
Finally some luck! The rush of adrenaline washing over him energized Nate and he made his way to said exit in a matter of minutes. He was only 10 feet away from the large green door as another door unexpectedly opened in front of him. It hit him right in the face, sending him staggering back.
He let out an involuntary groan.

"Goodness!", a woman's voice exclaimed. She was all dressed in white, she had to be a doctor or a nurse. "Are you alright, son?", she worriedly asked in Spanish.

Nate blinked a couple of times, eyes stinging and his nose feeling oddly numb.
He managed a nod, feeling like a total idiot. His hand clumsily went up to his face.
The woman in white gasped, although it didn't sound too concerned but rather annoyed.
"What did you do? My, you've bleed all over the floor."
Nate looked down and noticed she was right.

A slow trickle of blood was dripping from the puncture on his underarm, decorating the way he'd come with little crimson dots.
She grabbed his arm and fumbled with something on his wrist. A plastic bracelet. It had some numbers and a name on it that wasn't his. This had to mean they didn't know his real identity, so that was good, wasn't it?
She gave him some cotton pads to cover the wound with.
"Come on, boy, I'll get you back to your room. You should be in bed. She dragged him down the hall back to "his" room.

After she had changed the sheets and put him back in bed, she had poked another needle in his skin, this time on the right arm. The woman had looked him over sternly and said: "Now stay in bed, I am sure your uncle will be back soon."
Uncle? Who was she talking about?
Nate let out a deep sigh and let himself fall back into the fluffy pillow.
He suddenly realized how tired he was. His whole body was aching and he could barely keep his eyes open. He allowed himself to close his eyes, "just for a moment", he told himself.

Nate yawned and slowly opened his sleep-crusted eyes.
"Back amongst the living then, huh", a raspy voice said right next to him.
His heart sank as the information was processed by his brain.
It was the American.
He turned around to face the man. His body felt so heavy now, as though it was lead running through his veins, not blood.
The guy was sitting on a chair next to his bed, looking at him...almost worried..?
For a moment that stretched into what seemed like an eternity they just stared at each other.
What the hell was going on?

"If you are going to kill me better get it over with now", Nate heard himself say as he dropped his gaze again. His voice sounded so small and shaky.
To Nate's puzzlement the guy laughed, a hoarse, heartfelt laugh.
"Kill you? Kid, what the hell is going on in that head of yours? Why would I wanna kill a child?"
Nate struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. "'Cause you were after that pendant, weren't you? You had seen me with M-...the policeman and then you chased me..."

"Right to the point, huh? Well, yeah, I was supposed to obtain that piece of jewelry, true. But my work doesn't usually include shooting kids. Especially not when they were clearly blackmailed to steal it for someone else." The man sighed and gave him a look that was hard to read.
"So, I was following you to get the pendant but then that cop caught up with me and almost killed you. Brought you here, you've been out for the last three days, kid."
Suddenly Nate remembered what he really should be worried about.
"Where's Elena?" he blurted out.

The man shot him a surprised look. "You mean the girl? I found her a bit further up the pipe. She was scared like hell but not hurt. I got her back to her parents, after bringing you here."
"I don't believe you."
"Thought you wouldn't. Here's a note from her. Read it." He handed him a bit of yellow paper.
It was filled with a neat curly hand writing.

"Dear Nathan,
I hope you are feeling better by the time you read this.
You fell down a hole in the pipe and hit your head pretty badly. Mr. Sullivan found you and then we took you to the hospital. If my parents let me I will come and visit you!
Get well & see you soon!
- Elena"

Nate folded the note. "How do I know that's really written by her?"
The man chuckled. "Oh so you trust me to have such a pretty hand writing? I'm flattered, kid. No, she really was here with me. When I brought her back to her parents up in that fancy hotel, the one in Calle de Santo Domingo, I had to come up with some big story that I was a tour guide and I found her wandering the streets. Not sure they really bought it, but they certainly were happy to have her back."
That information was more reassuring. It was the right address, he remembered. Maybe the man was telling the truth after all.

"Do you believe me now, kid?"
Nate winced as his muscles were protesting when he tried to sit up. "I'm not a 'kid'", he scowled.
The man smiled. "Sure, sorry. How about I introduce myself: Victor Sullivan." He extended a hand towards Nate. The teen's gaze flicked from the hand to the man's face and back to the hand again.
"What do you want from me? I assume you already took your money and the idol anyway", Nate said, not hiding his suspicion.

Sullivan dropped his hand. "Okay, so much for exchanging pleasantries...", he muttered.
"Admittedly, I took the pendant out from your bag, when you were sleeping, but I had to get it back to my client in time. Also with Marquez out of the way I figured you wouldn't really need it any longer, right?"
Nate's eyes widened. "What happened to him?"
Sullivan looked a little uncomfortable now, shifting in his chair. "Look kid, he would've kicked your head in, he was totally out of it... had to find a way to stop him."
"You shot him", Nate whispered in disbelief. He felt, relieved and yet something felt wrong about that.
The man gave a little shrug and a nod. "But I'd like this to stay between you and me okay, boy? It'll take some time until he'll be missed and then even more time to find his body."
"So what are you gonna do? Run?" How the hell he managed to stay so calm was utterly beyond Nate.
Sullivan gave another tired smile. "Well, yeah. That's the plan."
"Then what are you still doing here?"
"Couldn't very well leave you here, now could I?"
Nate involuntarily shook his head a little and gave another scowl. "What are you getting at?"
"Damn it kid, what's with the hostility? I dunno if you've noticed but I just saved your life back there!"
"Thanks", Nate said dryly. "But what do you want from me now?" Nate tried not to think about how exposed he felt, being pretty much naked beneath the sheets.

"What I wanted was to make sure you were gonna be alright", Sullivan said, his voice louder now, clearly angry.
"I don't need help. And certainly not from middle aged men I don't even know"", Nate said stubbornly. "I can handle myself just fine."
The man scoffed. "Yeah, I saw."
Something in Nate just snapped. "Just back the fuck off, okay?", he yelled.

The words seemed to linger in the room for a moment.
Nate glared at the man. He didn't need help, he didn't need anyone.
Sullivan looked at him, seeming baffled.
After what seemed to be an eternity Sully coughed and said: "Okay. I get it. You want me to leave you alone. Believe me, I would.
But I'm afraid you're not entirely safe here. If they should somehow make the connections between you and Marquez' death, well... you're in big trouble."
Nate thought about this. He hated to admit it, but Sullivan was right. Nate crossed his arms, flinched at the pain that caused and uncrossed them. He rubbed his face with both hands and sighed.
Hands still covering his eyes he said: "Okay, and what do you think I should do?"

"Listen up. I know you won't like this, but you should come with me. I'll see to it that we get out of Cartagena within the next week."
Nate dropped his hands and stole a glance at the man's face to see whether he was kidding.
With a nervous chuckle he said: "Yeah, right. And then, what will you do with me?"
"I know this isn't easy for you, but in this case you gotta trust me on this one...are you sure you don't wanna tell me your name?", Sullivan asked.
"Jack Taylor", Nate said without even thinking. Things like that came so easy to him these days.
"Alright... Jack", the man said and it was more than clear he wasn't swallowing it.

It was obvious to both of them they were biting on granite here.
Then the door opened and a woman in a white coat came in.
The tension eased for a moment as both Sullivan and Nate cleared their throats and gave polite smiles.

It wasn't the nurse from earlier, she introduced herself as Doctor Ortiz. She had short dark-brown hair, bronze skin and a pleasant smile. Her English was perfect with a slight British accent.
She asked how Nate was feeling today and said something about a concussion and another week of bed rest and some stuff that didn't make much sense to Nate.
Then she checked his pulse, heart rate and, much to Nate's displeasure took some blood. Another needle stuck into his body. Still he forced himself to look at the syringe as it poked through his skin, he didn't want either or Sullivan to think he was squirmish.

When the doctor had left, Sullivan stood up and went to the window, opening it. The white curtains caught in a gust of wind. The jumble of noises of people talking, traffic and music that was so typical for Cartagena could be heard now and it calmed Nate down a little.

Sullivan turned and headed for the door.
"I'll leave you alone now for a while. Think about what I said. I'll see you tomorrow."
He looked back at Nate. "And kid? Don't try to run again, okay?"
Nate stared ahead, hating himself for blushing now. So the nurse must have told him.