Chapter 11

Isabelle had to practically jog to catch up to Gunnar and by then, he had already reached the elevator platform. Without a word, he motioned for her to get on and she eyed him warily as she stepped past him onto the lift. He entered behind her, slamming his hand against the button, sending them on a steady track upward.

"What...what was that? Back there?" she asked timidly after a moment, noting the scowl that still lined his face.

"Just finishing business." he replied coolly, offering no further explanation for his actions. Isabelle stared at him curiously, smartly withholding any additional questions as she observed the stiff set of his spine and the continuous clenching of his hands and his jaw. She wasn't sure what had set him off, but whatever it was, it was still there, simmering just below the surface, ready to rear its head again at the slightest provocation. Instead, she kept her comments to herself, hoping once he'd had a chance to cool down, he might be more receptive to her inquiries.

The elevator slowed to a stop and Gunnar exited first, and Isabelle knew without him have to issue the order that he expected her to follow him. He led her down the familiar hallway, past the drab kitchen where she'd eaten many of her solitary meals, then made a sharp left around the corner, halting in front of the door to her room. He opened it, then moved aside, giving her room to step inside, which she did after a moment. She studied the room briefly, noting it was still in the same condition as when she'd left, reminding herself she'd only been gone less than a full day. Somehow, the sight of the space was not quite as depressing as she had anticipated, mostly, she suspected, due to the unexpected altercation that had just occurred downstairs. She turned back to face Gunnar, surprised to see that he had not followed her inside. He stood in the doorway, filling it impressively as he glared down at her, and she suddenly felt on edge again, certain that he was about to have another outburst, this one targeted directly toward her.

"We are not going to have a repeat of this incident." he demanded, his low tone indicating the subject was not up for discussion. "Are we clear?"

Isabelle studied him for a moment before dropping her gaze. "Yeah. We're clear." she answered softly, with a nod of her head.

"Good. Now you stay here. Stay out of everybody's way. And stay out of trouble." he ordered, reaching for the door knob. He started to close the door, then paused. "I'll talk to Barney." he added, his tone softening slightly. "Let him know that you'll cooperate from here on out if he'll let this one slide."

She met his gaze again, studying him, trying to determine if he was just putting her on, but she didn't find the slightest hint of amusement in his expression. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and she offered another nod of her head.

"Thanks." she replied softly, and then he was gone, shutting the door behind him as he left.

She stared at the space where he'd been standing for a long moment, then crossed the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Her mind was spinning with everything that had occurred within the past few minutes and she replayed the events from downstairs over in her mind, trying to make sense of what she had seen.

Gunnar had attacked Lee, without any provocation from the smaller man. Or at least, none that she'd seen. Why? Her thoughts kept drifting back to what she'd told him on the drive in, about how Lee had threatened her, and she wondered briefly, maybe even hopefully, that she might have been the reason for their altercation. But as soon as the idea materialized, she tamped it back down. It was ridiculous, not to mention completely implausible. After all, why would Gunnar be upset with Lee for doing the same thing Gunnar himself had been doing all along? Up until this morning, Gunnar had practically made tormenting her his own personal crusade. No, it certainly couldn't have had anything to do with her.

But what about his offer to talk with Barney? She considered the question without finding a suitable answer. He probably just felt sorry for me, she thought, reminding herself that she'd proven inept with just about everything she'd done so far. I couldn't even find a suitable hiding spot in a city this size. I couldn't have been any more conspicuous if I'd left a trail of bread crumbs behind me. I'd probably feel sorry for me too, if the tables were turned.

For a few moments, she found herself wallowing in self-pity, lamenting her recent failures and the overall bad luck that seemed to have taken up root directly above her, hovering over her head like some dark, dismal cloud. Things will change. They have to, she told herself, in a half-hearted attempt to cheer herself up. If she could ever remember...no, when she could remember...when she was finally able to recall everything from her past, she was certain things would make much more sense than they did at this moment.

I should have gone home, she thought with a tired sigh as she reclined back on the bed. That would have been my best shot for finding some answers. I should have just gone home. But I guess it's a little too late to worry about that now.

But maybe, just maybe...

If you think he's going to help you, not only have you lost your memory but you've lost your damn mind, she warned herself, as her thoughts drifted back to Gunnar, still mulling over his abrupt change in demeanor. He's with Barney, all the way.

But still...

No. Let it go. You're grasping at straws that aren't there.

Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the thoughts, knowing deep down this line of reasoning was nothing more than a dead end. But the voice in her head wouldn't grow quiet, driving the point home with annoying repetition. What if? What if? What if?

What if he really did do it for you?

She pictured him storming into that room, grabbing up Lee and throwing him against the wall, recalling the vicious words that had passed between them. If he had done it for her, if he was willing to threaten one of his own teammates for her benefit, then what else might he be willing to do?

Rolling to her side, Isabelle punched her fist into the pillow in frustration, warning herself not to get her hopes up. The possibility was slim. Very slim. And she knew it. Still, she couldn't deny the vibe that something strange was starting the happen around here. Something was changing. She had no idea what it was, but she wished that just for once, everything didn't have to be such a mystery to try and figure out.

xxxx

Downstairs, Barney heard the rumble of the elevator as it descended once again to the ground floor and he slipped away from the other men, headed toward the direction of the sound, rounding the corner just as Gunnar stepped off of the platform onto the concrete floor.

"Want to tell me what happened back there?" Barney asked. Gunnar turned to face him and Barney didn't like the look he saw on the big man's face.

"Why don't you ask Christmas? I thought you two told each other all your secrets anyway." Gunnar snapped, as he stepped closer.

"Come on, Gunnar. What's this all about?" Barney asked, pressing the issue. Something had happened between the two of them, that was certain. And he was bound and determined to get to the bottom of it, whatever it was.

Gunnar glared at him for several long moments, until Barney was certain he wasn't going to answer him.

"Did you know he threatened her?" he finally asked the smaller man.

"The girl?"

"Yeah, the girl."

"She told you that?" Barney inquired, skeptically.

"Yeah."

"And it never occurred to you that she might be lying about that..."

"Why the hell would she lie about that?" Gunnar argued, cutting him off.

"She's been nothing but problems since we started this whole thing!" Barney explained. "She's angry that we won't let her leave and that we won't tell her anything about what's going on. So maybe she's just trying to stir things up a little bit to get back at us..."

Gunnar took another step forward and leaned over his shorter teammate threateningly.

"Well, why don't you go ask your golden boy if that's how it happened then?" he growled through clenched teeth. "Ask him about their little run-in yesterday. I'd say the fact he hasn't already mentioned it to you ought to tell you something."

He waited a moment to let his words sink in, then he slowly turned as though to leave. He took a couple of steps, then paused to glance back over his shoulder. "And why don't you cut the girl some slack while you're at it. She'll have enough problems to deal with as it is when Church finally shows up."

Then he stormed off, leaving Barney to stare after him with puzzled look on his face.

xxxxx

Lounging on the bed again later that afternoon, Isabelle was still contemplating Gunnar's strange behavior when she was startled by a knock on the door. She sat up and stared at it from across the room, a knot of dread settling into the pit of her stomach. So far, she'd managed without a single confrontation with either Barney or any of the other men, even when she'd braved leaving her room earlier to grab a bite to eat. She had started to grow hopeful that perhaps Gunnar had been successful in his talk with Barney, but as the knock sounded for a second time, now she wasn't so sure.

"Come in." she called out hesitantly, bracing herself for the lecture she was probably about to receive. The door opened and sure enough, there was Barney, blocking the opening, although not quite as impressively as Gunnar had earlier. He stood just inside the opening, staring at her with an intimidating glare and Isabelle waited for him to speak first, knowing what was coming and resigning herself to the fact that she probably deserved it after the little stunt she'd performed. Then he moved aside and the doctor entered the room behind him.

"Doc wants to take a look at you. See how things are healing." Barney finally stated, his tone neutral, much to Isabelle's surprise. She sat up a little straighter, watching with interest as he disappeared out the door through which he'd come. Then her gaze shifted to Doc who was already approaching the bed and without waiting for his instructions, she slid toward the edge of the mattress so he could look at her head. He placed his ever present black bag next to her, then bent forward to examine the stitches he'd given her a couple of weeks before.

"You know, I came by yesterday to check on you. Seems that you were gone. Guess I should've been the one to make the appointment, huh?" he asked casually as he went about taking her vitals.

Isabelle smiled slightly. "It was kind of a last minute trip."

"So I understand." Doc replied with a grin of his own. Despite everything, Isabelle found it impossible to dislike the man. He was very charismatic, with a pleasant bedside manner, and it didn't hurt that he wasn't bad to look at either.

"So, where were you headed off to in such a hurry? It must have been an important trip, to take off so abruptly." Doc inquired, making small talk as he continued his examination. He caught her eye, holding her gaze for a moment. She shrugged slightly and dropped her head, her eyes focusing on a scuff mark on the worn floor.

"Nowhere in particular, really. I just needed a break." she replied softly.

"Well, I suppose your bravery is to be commended. Taking off the way you did, in your condition, with no idea where you were going or how you were going to get there. Not to mention the risk of pissing off Barney out there." He tossed his thumb over his shoulder, in the general direction of the door. "I have to give you an 'a' for effort."

Isabelle shifted her eyes back to his face, trying to determine if he was being sincere or if he was just putting her on. But there was no mirth in his expression that she could see. He paused in his exam to lean far enough back so he could study her own confused countenance.

"You think I'm blowing smoke your way?" he asked.

She stared at him for another moment, then sighed, her shoulders sagging. "No. I'm sorry if I seem a little...off. The past twenty-four hours have been pretty exhausting."

"That's ok. But speaking of exhaustion, you really should try to take it easy for the next couple of days. You don't want to push yourself too much just yet."

She dipped her head in acknowledgment, then watched as he packed everything away in his bag. She let her attention drift back to the floor, jumping when she felt his hand settle on her shoulder.

"I know it's frustrating, but hang in there. Things will start to look up eventually." He squeezed gently as she stared up at him, a faint smile on her lips.

"Thanks." she whispered.

"Don't give up. Sometimes these things just take time." Doc gave her another partial smile, then turned to leave, closing the door quietly behind him. Suddenly feeling more lost and afraid since she had first awakened alone and injured in this room, she turned away from the doorway and stretched out on the bed, trying her hardest not to break down and cry.

xxxxx

"Well?" Barney asked, as Doc stepped off the lift and walked toward him.

Doc shrugged slightly, and Barney joined in beside of him as they strolled through the open warehouse. "Health-wise everything is fine. Memory-wise, everything is still the same."

"So, in your opinion, you don't think she could be hiding something?"

"No. In my profession, I've gotten very good at learning to read people. I can always tell when a patient is lying or withholding information. It's hard to explain, but once you've done this job for a while, the signs are hard to miss. I think it's highly unlikely that there is anything going on with her, other than frustration setting in. It's completely understandable given the circumstances."

Barney frowned, contemplating his explanation. "So, in other words, we're back to square one."

Doc reached out and squeezed the bigger man's shoulder, much like he'd done Isabelle's upstairs. "I'm sorry, Barney. I just don't know what else to tell you."

"It's not your fault. I guess I'll just have to resort to installing video cameras and alarms around the place to keep an eye on everything." he mumbled, only half-jokingly. "I wish to hell I'd never taken this job. That damn Church. I'd almost swear he knew what the hell he was getting us into over there."

Doc stared at him sympathetically, but remained quiet.

"Oh, well." Barney added, clapping him on the back. "Can't do anything about that now. I guess there's no choice now but to just ride it out."

"Well, good luck." Doc replied, opening the door. "I hope it all works out. Call me if you need anything else."

"Will do." Barney propped himself against the open doorway, watching as the younger man walked toward his car and opened the door. Then with a sigh of resignation, he turned away and headed in search of his teammates to share the latest news.

xxxxx

Doc slid in behind the wheel of his car, a glossy red Mercedes sports coupe that he'd purchased new a little less than a year ago. Unlike most of his colleagues, he wasn't a particularly big fan of showing off or flaunting his professional status, especially not while his financial situation was still so shaky. So, unlike many of his friends who'd dove even further into debt after their completion of medical school, he'd foregone purchasing a high-end vehicle and other expensive toys in favor of paying off his mounds of student loans and saving for a down payment on a high-rise condo, which in itself was also fairly modest in comparison to some of his co-workers properties. The Mercedes had been an exception, a reward to himself for making the final payment on those loans, after several long months of hard work and sacrifice.

Barney's private employment had provided a large portion of those payments, as well as the significant down payment for the car. He found it amusing now, when he thought back to the first time he'd encountered the rough looking man with the stoic and cool demeanor, remembering how suspicious he'd been of the unusual request that had been proposed. It had sounded to Doc like nothing but bad news, probably just a unique scam for obtaining prescription drugs or some other contraband that he couldn't even imagine. He remembered laughing - he had literally laughed out loud - and had voiced his dissent loudly, almost walking away. Almost.

For some reason that even now he couldn't fully explain, he'd stayed and he'd listened. Perhaps it had been the lure of easy money, perhaps it had been nothing more than morbid curiosity. But after talking with Barney for a little longer and listening to his absolute assurance that drugs were not the motivation for his strange request, he had slowly started to come around to accepting the positive benefits of a mutual partnership. Barney had explained his situation in somewhat vague and veiled terms, which Doc had long since come to understand, although in the beginning, they had seemed a little too far-fetched to be true – a group of men diverse men who were involved in a very dark and dangerous profession and who needed a discreet and knowledgeable medical profession who could provide necessary services to them should the need arise. Doc had eventually agreed to Barney's terms of private employment, which still allowed him the freedom to remain at the largest hospital in the city, where he was then and still was now employed. Whatever came of their odd agreement, was nothing more than icing on the cake.

Doc had left that initial meeting feeling somewhat thrilled at the monetary prospects their arrangement might offer, but doubtful that anything would likely ever come from it. That was, until Barney called him late one night, several months later, seeking out the services for which he'd been paying. Doc, as Barney had so fondly started to call him, had shown up at the address Barney had given him, which he now knew as Tool's, where he'd found one of Barney's teammates with a serious gunshot wound to the leg. Thankfully, the injury had not been life threatening and the man had survived with only a slight limp as a result, although he had not been quite so lucky on a subsequent trip a couple of years later.

He'd seen several good men come and go over the years he'd been employed by the group, very few of the leaving by way of retirement or old age, and he frequently had to remind himself to not get too attached to the ones who remained, for they too could be gone from this world at any time. Still, he'd grown to respect Barney and his companions, as the injuries both major and minor had begun to pile up. They were all good men and it was hard not to find himself in awe of them, knowing what they were risking each time they deployed for a mission. The individuals Barney worked with now had all been with him for a while, and despite his self-warnings, Doc found he had grown rather fond of each and every one of them. It pained him terribly to think about the future and a day when one, or even all of them, might not make it back from their latest trip. Especially Barney.

As he considered his friend's illicit profession, his thoughts turned briefly to Isabelle, and he was taken with pity for her, knowing that she was an innocent by-stander in this whole series of events, someone whose life had been changed dramatically through no fault of her own. No, that wasn't completely true, he told himself, recalling what information Barney had given him about her. Sure, she seemed harmless enough on the outside, sad and meek and understandably frustrated. But she had also been their target for that particular mission and, according to Barney, she'd been carrying a weapon and had fought eagerly against them. Hell, she was even the one who had shot Gunnar, whose wound he had also treated, although Gunnar had stated more than once that it hadn't been intentional. It was a mess, that was for sure, and he didn't envy Barney's position to have to figure it all out. As cruel as it seemed, perhaps given the circumstances, it was best the girl couldn't remember anything, at least for the time being. But somehow, that thought did not dispel the guilt he felt every time he was forced to lie to her and claim ignorance as to why she was here.

He shook it off as he put the key in the ignition and started the car, buckling himself in. It was Barney's decision, not his, and it wasn't his place to tell him how to do his job. But it worried him, what might be waiting for the girl, once this whole ordeal was finally through.

Glancing over his shoulder, he pulled away from the curb, merging into oncoming traffic as he headed toward his condo. It had been a long day, he was tired and hungry, and he was pretty sure there were a couple of beers and some leftovers in the fridge that were calling his name. He pushed the troubled thoughts from his mind, concentrating instead of the thick flow of vehicles around him, wondering if there might also be a game on the tv tonight for him to watch while he ate his dinner. He never noticed the headlights from the dark colored sedan that switched on as it pulled away from the curb and fell in behind him, blending in with all the others around him as he lead them in the direction of his home.