The first thing Randi was aware of was that she was comfortable. Drifting in and out of consciousness, that was all she knew for a while. Eventually, however, the vague feeling solidified, and her thoughts became clearer. Little by little, she felt and heard more.

She was lying on something soft, and somewhat warm. A bed? There was an annoying beeping... Smells, too. Disinfectant. A hospital? That would explain the beeping. There was another sound...birdsong. How long since she had been able to just listen to the birds? A voice. Someone was speaking in a low voice. Then it was quiet, save for the birds. And the beeping.

Randi opened her eyes and saw a ceiling with molding and gilt edges that was just...well, fancy. Pretty, though. The walls were pretty, too, with thin gold stripes and several landscape paintings. And the window was hung with wispy golden drapes. What sort of hospital room was this?

She lifted her head a little to see the rest of the room. The bed she was in--a rather nice bed, too--was against one wall with a door opposite and to the left. A table, almost within arm's reach, was in front of the window to the right, and to the far left was a couch and a comfy-looking chair, both gold and brown, gathered around a low table. Another chair had been pulled away from there, and was now about a yard from the bed, with an elderly man seated there, reading a book. Moby Dick.

He looked up as she moved, and his face, lined from years of care, suddenly brightened. "Well, then! You're awake," he said in a British accent. He set his book aside and leaned towards her. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Randi responded. She certainly did feel drowsy. "What happened? Where am I?" Memory began to return, and she started to sit up. "KITT! Where's KITT?"

The man placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pressing her back down. "Don't try to get up yet. KITT is here, though I regret to say that he is not yet able to communicate with you. Our chief mechanic insisted on seeing him, and they are still occupied."

"Is he damaged?" Randi could not rest until she knew KITT was all right. She'd already lost one friend.

The man chuckled. "Not severely, though Bonnie was rather distressed by the condition of his auto drive mechanism. Don't worry about him. You need to rest."

Randi settled back. "I fixed it," she murmured. "The auto drive. It didn't work before." She sighed, remembering. That was just the day before... "What happened?"

The man's face grew a little more serious. "KITT rushed you to the hospital. He was barely in time. Fortunately, one of our people was visiting someone there that day, and he recognized him. Once he got KITT's story, he contacted us and we got involved. We had to bring in the best surgeons. Apparently, your head collided with a car window, and the glass tore up the whole side of your face. You had a brain hemmorage as well, and a mild fracturing of your skull. You nearly died on the operating table," he added in a soft voice.

Randi shivered, remembering the blood. She raised her hand compulsively, touching her face. To her surprise, it felt whole and unmarked.

The man smiled, and, looking to the side, grabbed something from a side table and handed it to her. It was a mirror. "You may be a bit surprised," he warned.

Randi held up the mirror and felt her jaw drop in shock. The face that was staring back at her was not her own. Similar, yes, but her cheekbones were now a little higher, for one thing. Her nose was slightly narrower, as well, and her eyebrows were less arched than before. She didn't mind the face, but it wasn't her. Not Randalyn Pryors.

"Confronted with your situation, we decided to do something we have not done in close to thirty years," the man explained. "KITT explained about the Black Rings. We thought you might be safer this way. And you should know, your face is not all that has been changed."

Randi looked up from the mirror. "What do you mean?" She had a slightly inkling of what he meant, however, remembering KITT's stories.

He took a deep breath, then began to speak slowly. "I said you had almost died on the operating table. In a way, however, you did. In fact, as far as anyone in the outside world knows, Randalyn Pryors died in surgery over three weeks ago. Changing your face is not enough to protect you. Fortunately, we have ways of dealing with that." He grabbed something else from off the table and handed it to her. "When you are well enough, these are yours."

Randi put down the mirror and took the black wallet, opening it up. Her eyes widened as she saw the license, social security card, and credit card, all made out to Randalyn Knight. She stared for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought, then finally managed to softly say, "Just like Michael Knight."

Lightning struck, and she looked up at the man again, seeing in her mind an image that KITT had shown her; younger, but certainly the same person. "You're Devon Miles! You're-- We made it!"

Devon laughed. "Yes, you did, and you're safe here now. Welcome to FLAG, Miss Knight."