Wednesday, October 22, 1986

Remington jerked awake, prying open bleary eyes to look around the room for what had awakened him. Finding nothing in the shadows of the darkened room, he stood and placed his hand against Laura's brow. Finding it at last cool and clammy, he let out a staccato breath as he slumped back down into his chair in utter relief. Lifting her hand, he pressed several brief kisses against her palm, before wrapping her hand in his own and laying his head back down on the side of the bed once more. The haze of early sleep had just settled over him when he bolted back upright at the strange sound coming from above him.

He stared at Laura for many long seconds, before she again whimpered while moving her head from side-to-side. Releasing her hand, he stood then sat on the bed next to her hip and ran his fingers through her hair, soothingly. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips next to her ear. "It's over, babe… You're safe… I'm here," he whispered the assurance next to her ear.

Somewhere in her dreams, it registered that someone was near. Lurching upright, and sucking in a harsh breath against the pain that ricocheted through her body, eyes unseeing, she began to scream. "No! No! Stay away from me!" Her scream died on a sob, as Remington moved quickly in front of her, grasping her cheeks in his hands.

"Laura… love… It's me… It's me… Oh God." His hands moved over her cheeks, as his heart pounded in his chest, his imagination alit by what she'd been subjected to that would leave her waking in terror. Laura. His rock. The strongest person he'd ever known. "Look at me, Laura… Look at me…" he pleaded.

The memory of that morning flooded through her, when she'd believed it was Remington holding her as she slept. Shaking her head violently, she tried to skitter away from him backwards on the bed. "Not real," she insisted more to herself than him. Fully awake now, her eyes darted around the room, seeking a route of escape. Instead of allowing her to flee, he pursued, moving up the bed with her, reaching for her face again. She slapped his hands away. "You're not real. No! No!"

Heart racing and panic setting in, he searched his mind desperately, for a way to reach her. He thanked the stars above when it came to him. Picking up her hand, he pressed his lips against her palm. "Tá mo chroí istigh ionat, mo ghrá."

She stilled before him, panting, assessing whether or not this was another hallucination, then reached out a tentative hand to touch his face, only to jerk it away, then shakily touch him again. "Mr. Steele?" she asked in barely a whisper.

"Indeed, Mrs. Steele," he confirmed, trying to insert an air of amusement into his voice. Her hands moved to grip his shoulders, almost painfully, before skimming down his arms again, then back up, so that her fingers could lose themselves in his hair. She let out a shuddering sigh, before Roselli's words clicked through her mind and she moved her hands to clasp his face, searching it for any signs of injury. Noting the blackened eyes that were turning shades of yellow and purple, the bruised cheekbone, and healing split lip, her hands began to shake violently.

"You're okay… he said… he said…" she choked on a sob that she forced back down with an iron will. She grabbed at his shoulders again, trying to pull him to her, then gasped at the pain ripping through shoulder and ribs.

"Easy, love," he cajoled, before carefully stretching out on the bed next to her and helping her ease down to lay against his shoulder. She felt his body tremble under hers at the contact. He handled her gingerly, carefully avoiding wrapping his arm around her injured ribs, while pressing his lips against the top of her head.

"Care to give me a synopsis?" He rubbed at his mouth with his hand before nodding.

"Three cracked ribs, displaced shoulder, two rather serious concussions, both eye orbitals and cheekbone fractured, sepsis and far too many cuts and bruises to count."

"And my ankle?" He let out a puff of air.

"The Achilles is severed, love." She nodded against his shoulder.

"I thought as much," she answered matter-of-fact. "Prognosis?"

"Three to four weeks for the shoulder and assorted fractures. Surgery to repair the tendon." He touched his fingers to her cheek. "Four to six months recovery on that." She nodded again.

"No marathon, then." He frowned at what appeared to be her easy acceptance of that detail. She'd been working for months, barely containing her anticipation of conquering the LA Marathon. "Remington?"

"Yes, love?"

"How? How did you find me?" He nuzzled his cheek against her head.

"The same way you found me the first time DesCoines appeared, with a little help from yourself, of course." She frowned, confused.

"My help?" She felt him nod.

"Mmmmm. The clues you left. I'd figured out Las Hadas, was already in Manzanillo before your first message was given to Mildred and Bernice, but the information you provided on the car, the cabin? Had we not had that, I've no idea how we would have found you."

"You got them," she breathed.

"We did." She frowned again.

"You keep saying we. Is Mildred here with you?" Remington chuckled lightly.

"Murphy." Laura carefully eased herself up on an elbow to look at him.

"Murphy?" she asked, stunned.

"Mmmmm," he hummed his confirmation, running his fingers through her hair as she eased herself back down and yawned deeply.

"And the two of you didn't come to blows?" He chuckled again.

"Sorry to disappoint. Perhaps another time," he teased. She laughed lightly as she stroked her hand up over his ribs and over his chest, before settling over his heart.

"And Roselli?" He felt her tense against him as she asked the question. Slowly, he blew out a frustrated breath.

"Absconded while we got you to the hospital." She nodded and yawned again. Pressing his lips against her head again, he continued to finger her hair. "Get some sleep, love."

"Will you stay?"

"You ask as though I'd be anywhere else," he answered, as he swept her hair back over her shoulder.

Concentrating on the steady thrum of his heartbeat under her fingers, his breath against her forehead and the steady, light stroking of his fingers in her hair, she drifted off to sleep.

Remington readjusted the pillow under his head, then soothed a hand over Laura's back to settle her back in. Once he was certain she slumbered peacefully, he fingered the remote control through the small selection of channels available finally selecting a documentary on the Mayan civilization. Laying an arm over his eyes, he tried to doze. It had been a difficult night. Laura had slept restlessly, crying out in her sleep several times throughout the night, calming only when his soft words of Gaelic and gentle touch soothed her in her dreams. He was thankful for the nap he'd gotten while waiting her to regain consciousness, or he figured he'd be next to useless today after little to no sleep during the three nights she'd been missing.

He flashed the nurse a quick grin, then recovered his eyes as she changed out the IV bags. The night nurse had been less than friendly, giving him a sour look of disapproval when she found him in bed with Laura. He'd simply raised his brows, daring her to suggest he be anywhere other than where he lay. With a shake of her head, she'd left the room without a word.

Now, he looked up in surprise when Murphy pushed open the door to the room, carrying Remington's backpack and a small, unfamiliar overnight bag. With an upheld finger to his lips and a flick of his eyes to his sleeping wife, Remington indicated Murphy should keep his voice down. Murphy nodded his acknowledgment.

"How is she this morning?" Murphy asked in a near whisper.

"She's fine," the answer coming not from Remington, but Laura herself. Opening her eyes, she moved her head gingerly to the side, not leaving Remington's arms, so she could see the other man. "Heyyyyy, Murph," she greeted him with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

Murphy looked down at the suitcase he was holding then held it up in display. "Sherry had me bring it over. She made me promise that I'd get your husband to take a break this morning, at least long enough to shower."

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere."

Laura made exaggerated sniffing sounds from where her head still lay on his chest. "I don't know about that," she teased, then laughed as he looked down at her, pretending to be offended. "Go. Take a shower, shave. It will give me a chance to catch up with Murphy."

Remington sighed, then carefully unfolded his body out from under her, knowing he'd be fighting a losing battle. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head, telling her, "I'll be right back, Mrs. Steele."

Laura touched his cheek with the palm of her hand and smiled at him. "I have absolutely no doubt that you will be, Mr. Steele." He flashed her a toothy grin at her subtle reminder that the days when she fear she'd wake one day and find him gone were long behind them. Grabbing the overnight bag off the floor next to Murphy's chair, he left them to visit.

Laura carefully repositioned herself on the bed, gasping as the ribs gave a painful tug on her side, then settled into a reclining position.

"I can't believe you're here, Murphy," she told him, as he settled in the chair next to her bed. "Thanks for helping him."

"I really didn't help that much. He's good Laura, really good. He caught things that I would have missed."

"I know he is," she agreed proudly. "We make a hell of a team."

Murphy nodded, thoughtfully. "I never thought these words would come out of my mouth, Laura, but I was wrong about him. I was so sure he would leave you high and dry, picking up pieces of your heart and life from all around you…"

"But, baby, look at us now," she winked at him, then laughed and Murphy joined in.

"How's Sherry, Murph?"

"Worried about you. She's back at the hotel right now. Made me promise to call her the minute I got here with an update."

As if on cue, a nurse appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Michaels? Your wife is on the phone. She said she needs to speak with you right away."

Murphy looked at the nurse, then back at Laura. She laughed, "Go ahead, I'll be fine."

He nodded then walked out the door.

Laura leaned her head back and closed her eyes. I can't believe I'm still so tired, she thought to herself. Hearing the door to her room open and close then latch, she smiled, and eyes still closed asked "Back so soon?"

"I told you I wasn't going to let him have you, Laura."

Her eyes flew open. Seeing Roselli, she began shaking and scrambled backwards on the bed, moaning at her screaming ribs. This couldn't be real. She closed her eyes, hoping against hope that when she opened them again, he wouldn't be there. Still, given the patch over his eye and the bandage taped to his face, she closed her eyes and shook her head, praying it was the residual drugs in her system playing tricks on her. He can't be here, she told herself. But he was.

"Stay away from me, Tony" Laura told him, pulling her legs up under her on the bed, ready to bolt.

"You and I have something to finish, Laura. It's time to go." Roselli darted over to the bed and snatched her wrist, attempting to pull her out of the bed.

She jerked back, trying unsuccessfully to free herself, then tried again, planting her feet on the bed and using her weight attempting to pry her arm from his grasp, even as her ankle screamed at her from the pressure on it. He lost his grip and she tumbled over backwards off the bed, hitting her head on the concrete floor as she landed. The IV stand, lifted off the floor, then fell, the needle ripping from her arm. She groaned, reaching up to grab her head as the room began to spin.

Roselli came around the bed. Reaching down he grabbed her by the arm, yanking her up, before locking his arm around her ribs, caging her to his body, causing her to cry out as the arm crushed into her fractured ribs. She sagged against him, the assault on her body too much. He pulled her with him towards the low-slung window, and after unlatching it, opened it. Looking down at the two story drop, he decided they would have to risk it as it was the only escape.

Laura, seeing the plan in his eyes, dug deep to find the energy then let out a blood curdling scream, "Remington!"

Fresh out of the shower, Remington had pulled on his pants and was standing barefoot and shirtless in front of the mirror shaving when Laura's scream ripped through the halls. Throwing the razor down, he yanked open the bathroom door and bolted down the four doors to her room, meeting up with Murphy coming from the opposite direction. Finding the door locked, they threw themselves, together, against the door, splintering wood.

Hearing the door give, Laura grabbed the needle hanging from her arm, and plunged it into Roselli's arm, then shoved him as he howled. Roselli lost his footing, falling backwards through the window, grabbing her arm and taking her with him. She grabbed for something, anything, the fingers of her hand catching the window sill in the nick of time.

"Laura!" Remington yelled, hurtling himself across the room. He lunged at her, grabbing her wrist just as her fingers let go. "Hold on Laura, hold on. I've got you!" Leaning through the window, he grabbed her other arm, then hooked them around his neck telling her, "Please, baby, hold tight. Oh God, hold onto me," as he grabbed her around the waist and fell back into the room with her in his arms. Once they had cleared the window, Murphy ran to it. Looking down, he watched as Roselli picked himself up off the ground and ran away.

"He's gone again, Steele!"

"I don't give a damn," Remington got to his feet with Laura in his arms. Blood streamed from her arm where the needle had ripped her vein, and her eyes were unfocused after having taken another blow to the head. "Get the doctor, Murphy. She's been hurt again."

Murphy shoved his way through the curious crowd that had gathered at the door, closing the door in their faces, then ran down to the nurse's station.

Remington carried Laura across the room and lay her down on the bed. Ripping the case off of the pillow, he took her arm in his hand and began applying pressure to the wound, trying to stave off the bleeding.

"I'm fine," she told him groggily, trying weakly to pull back her arm. He held fast.

"I know you are, Miss Holt. How 'bout you humor me, eh? After all, you've tended my wounds far more than I yours over the years."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Steele," she mumbled.

"Whatever for?"

The doctor and Murphy entered the room, ending the conversation. After a thorough exam and four stitches in her arm, the doctor departed. A nurse entered shortly thereafter and replaced the IV line, pushing it through the vein in her left hand this time, to avoid the injured vein. After the staff had departed, Remington climbed back up on the bed and stretched out as he had the night before. She turned into his arms, and once settled began running her hands back and forth over his ribs for several minutes, finding the familiarity of him under her hands comforting, before her hand stilled and she fell asleep.

Murphy was seated in a chair across the room. Glancing up, he saw Laura had fallen asleep. Taking his head out of his hands, he looked at Remington with tortured eyes. "I'm sorry. This was my fault. You left her with me."

"I didn't leave you to stand guard over her, Murphy. Neither of us had any way of knowing that Roselli would dare show up here. Stop blaming yourself. Go back to the hotel, see Sherry, and get some rest." Murphy nodded and stood to leave. "If you would, let the guard out there know no one is to bother us for the next few hours. Laura needs to sleep. Oh, and Murphy, if you or Sherry could find some place to deliver, can you have something sent over here for dinner?"

Murphy nodded again and then left the room.

Remington carefully gathered Laura a little closer, his hand continuing to toy with her hair, as he spent the next several hours plotting his revenge against Anthony Roselli in any number of ways.

Remington was jarred from his sleep by Laura's screams.

"No, no, noooooooooooooo!"

The officer assigned to guard her exploded into the room. Remington, not turning around, waved him away. Taking her head into his hands as he had the night before, he moved in front of her. "Laura, Laura, it's me, love. Open your eyes, Laura. It's a bad dream. You're here with me. You're safe." Her eyes opened and seeing him in front of her, blinked back the moisture in her eyes then lay back down in his arms.

"It's not safe. He's going to keep coming after me, Remington. He won't stop," she panted, trying to shake loose the fear from her nightmare.

He stiffened more at the vulnerability and fear he heard in her voice than at her words themselves and had to force himself to relax so as not to alarm her. She's right, he realized. Roselli wouldn't stop coming at her until he was either locked up or dead. He was so insane that he had gone after Laura in their home and now here in this very hospital. Moving a finger under her chin, he tipped her face up to look at him.

"Let's go home, Mrs. Steele," he suggested to her quietly. Hearing the words, her breathing began to slow down and steady. She moved her hand up his chest to his jaw, then locking her eyes with his own, nodded with relief.

"Let's go home, Mr. Steele."

He leaned down and kissed her nose. "Up you get. I've a phone call to make."

After extracting themselves from each other, Laura settled back against the pillows while Remington yanked a dress shirt out of the suitcase and slung it on, leaving it unbuttoned as he walked to the phone and picked it up.

"Operator, I need to place a call to Los Angeles…" he directed, providing the phone number.

The phone rang twice on the other end before it was answered.

"The Remington Steele Agency. Mildred Krebs speaking. How can I help you?"

"Mildred, it's me."

Mildred stood, then sat, then stood again equally afraid and happy that he had called. "How's Mrs. Steele, Chief? Is she doing any better? Is she doing worse? I don't think I can take much more…"

"Mildred," Remington interrupted, "She's doing much better. She's awake. Listen Mildred, I need your help…"

"Can I talk to her?" Mildred asked cutting him off. "Please? Can I talk to her, Boss? I just want to hear her. I've been so worried…"

Shaking his head, he held out the phone to Laura as Mildred continued to prattle on. "She needs to speak with you." Laura smiled and held out her hand.

"Hello, Mildred."

"Oh, Mrs. Steele. Thank God! I've been, we've all been, so worried about you!"

"I'm fine Mildred. Some bumps and bruises, but otherwise doing much better."

"I swear to you, Mrs. Steele, if I ever get my hands on Roselli, I'll, I'll…"

"I'm familiar with the sentiment. Mr. Steele needs to speak to you again. I miss you, Mildred. Thank you for taking care of everything while we're gone."

She handed the phone back to Remington, smiling. "Mildred, it's me again." As Mildred prepared to go off on a ramble again, he once more interrupted, "Mildred, I need you to focus, please."

Mildred stilled on the other end, then giving herself a shake, cleared her throat and answered as her efficient old self. "Shoot."

"I need you to find us a private charter to fly us to Greece. I don't care how much it costs, just make it happen. Transfer the funds from our account." Glancing at Laura, he continued, "We'll also need a private duty nurse. The nurse will fly with us to Greece, then once we are there will be relieved of their duties. We'll provide them a four-day stay in Crete, our treat, then pay their airfare home. Do you have that Mildred?"

"Yes. I'll get right on it. Boss, why aren't you coming home?"

"Roselli came after Laura at the hospital here today," hearing Mildred gasp, he continued, "He won't get near her on Island Santorini. The family will see to that."

"I understand. Oh, Boss, I can't believe this."

"Neither can I Mildred, neither can I. One more thing, Mildred."

"Lay it on me, Boss."

"Call Marcos and let him know when we'll be arriving. Ask that he have us picked up, discretely, and that a couple of the cousins coming along for a ride wouldn't be a bad thing. Don't tell him what's transpired. I'll fill him in when we get there. I owe him that."

"Will do. I'll call you as soon as I have it all set up."

"Thank you, Mildred. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Take care of Mrs. Steele, Boss. And yourself too."

"Will do. See you soon."

As Remington hung up the phone there was a knock on the door. Laura's guard peeked his head in and announced "Your food has arrived, Mr. Steele." He walked over to the door, thanking the man, then took the bag over to the bed where she was carefully maneuvering herself into a sitting position. Swinging a leg up on the bed he positioned himself to where he was sitting cross-legged across from her before setting the containers of food down on the bed between them.

"Hungry?" She grinned at him.

"Ravenous."

Pulling the containers out of the bag, he opened them one at a time: Tacos, burritos, enchiladas, and rice and beans. She stabbed a fork into the enchilada and shoved a heaping spoonful into her mouth, groaning with pleasure. He laughed, always amazed by how much food she could shove in her mouth at a time.

"What?" she asked around a mouthful of food.

"Nothing," he grinned as the phone next to the bed started to ring. Reaching past her, he grabbed the receiver from the cradle. "Steele here".

"Okay, Boss," Mildred replied without preamble, "The plane will be fueled and ready to leave at 7:30. The nurse, Emma Hargrove, will meet you at the plane. The flight will take a little over fourteen hours landing you in Greece around 10 am our time, or 8pm Greece time. Marcos will have a car waiting for you at the airport, which will take you to the ferry, then continue on to his house."

"Great work, Mildred, we can always count on you. We'll see you soon, hopefully."

Remington glanced at his watch, 5:45. Walking over to the bed he grabbed the call button and pushed it. Laughing at Laura again he told her, "Eat fast. We have to leave for the airport in thirty minutes."

The nurse entered the room and Remington filled her in on their plans, including that a nurse would be traveling with them to Greece. Thirty minutes later, after a brisk but effective argument with her doctor about the need for her to stay and heal versus the merit of her physical and emotional health should Roselli make another attempt on her, they left the hospital, heavy one carton of medical supplies. Murphy met them at the airport with their luggage and after a round of goodbyes, the Steele's left Mexico, and Roselli, behind.