Chapter 15:

Doc and Nate reached the hospital ward where Eliot and his sister were under observation, but were caught up in a flurry of activity before they even got close to the hallway the two were on. There were people everywhere, but not really in a crowd, more like off in groups of 2 or 3, chattering among themselves, quietly. An undercurrent of fear flowed freely through the hallways, further stifling the noise level. Nate felt as though he had just walked into the visitation parlor for a funeral.

Not one to ever not take charge of a situation, Doc drew the head nurse away from the small group she was in, and over to where Nate stood.

"What happened here, Lieutenant." The woman was visibly shaken, and for a combat hardened trauma nurse, that was saying something. Doc noticed she was slightly out of breath when she spoke, but she filed the information away for later and said nothing.

"Commander, I'm glad you are here. Four men, ma'am. Said they were here to visit the two patients you brought with you tonight. They were dressed like soldiers, but something didn't feel right about that. So, I told them the patients were restricted from having sat down in the waiting room at the end of the hall, and I noticed them watching me. It was like they were waiting for me to leave. I know that sounds strange. I called security and had them escorted out of the building. I hope I did the right thing."

Doc smiled at her and touched her shoulder gently.

"Yes, Lieutenant, you dd the right thing. Thank you."

(0o0)

In the end, the military police ended up tracking Sterling halfway across DC, with Hardison relaying directions to Nate, who, in turn, relayed them to Vance. Now they were standing across the street from the National Mall, scanning the crowd for him. One of the guards saw a shadow moving stealthily through the crowd near the Lincoln memorial. Placing a finger to his lips, he signaled the other guards with him to follow, and walked up behind the man, not making a sound.

A moment later, feeling as though someone was watching him, Sterling turned around and found himself staring directly into the eyes of one of the military policemen sent for him. He was a man of slight build, but lean and muscular, with dark, curly hair. The man gave him a crooked smile and said, "James Sterling?"

Sterling wondered for a moment if he could pretend to be someone else, but this man didn't look like he could be fooled easily. He didn't reply, but he didn't really have to do so. A moment later, the man said, "Come with me, please." When Sterling didn't move, the man drew his pistol and pointed it at him. He gave Sterling a half smile, and said, "We can do this the easy way, and you can walk with us, or you can refuse, and I can arrest you right here. Your choice. You have some questions to answer."

The four men surrounded him, not touching, but too close for him to slip away. They walked him all the way back to the Navy Yard, and all the way to the hallways that held the offices of senior officers. He was mildly surprised when they approached what he thought he remembered as Doc's office and kept walking. They walked through another door, and Sterling felt the temperature change, and knew they were in a tunnel, and he wondered where they were taking him. Suddenly, the leader of their little group stopped and knocked on a particular door. Silently, it slid open to admit him.

Vance was standing at the window, looking out, but he turned around when he heard the door open.

"Thank you, Mister Shelley. Wait a moment, please. I have one more assignment for you, and then you can return to Doc. I'm certain she still needs your help."

Shelley inclined his head slightly and found a place where he almost disappeared into Vance's wall. Vance leveled his gaze on Sterling and when he spoke, there was a hardness to his voice that was rarely heard there.

"Mister Sterling, I am about to ask Mister Shelley and his security team, which is waiting in the hallway, to escort you to the brig. Two of the men will stay inside your cell and two will stay just outside. Doc will want to talk to you tomorrow, but if there is anything that won't wait for that conversation, I suggest you tell me now."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"I don't care whether you tell me anything or not. Doc seemed to think you left for a reason, though she didn't exactly say so straight out. She seemed to think you were under pressure from some, how shall we say, outside influences. If that's the case, we can help you, but this is your one and only chance to ask and to tell us what is going on."

Could he really do it? Could this maybe turn out okay after all? These people—they seemed trustworthy, and they had treated him fairly before he left. But if he was wrong, well, the consequences would be epic, and not in a good way.

"A-a f" he changed the word 'family' to 'friend' at the last minute. "A friend is,"—he couldn't exactly say being held hostage, could he?—"under surveillance. I was informed that I must follow instructions to keep that person safe. And my instructions were to hire Mister Quinn to get Eliot's sister out of the hospital, and to draw the Leverage team, and more specifically, Eliot, out into the open in the process. I had no idea they were working for you."

Vance gave him a hard look. "Who asked you to do this?"

"I have no idea. I received a typewritten, unsigned note, containing an article that the person in question would never part with, along with a picture that showed proof of life, and telling me that if I did not draw them out in the open and leave them somewhere by tonight, that person's health would be compromised."

"IF you don't know who asked you to do this, where were you going?"

"When you picked the team up, you made it impossible for me to meet the terms of whomever hired me, but I used the resources of Interpol to look for clues in the picture that would help me to extrapolate the hostage's location. I was going on a rescue mission, or at least hoping to renegotiate."

"Do you have this picture with you?"

Sterling drew it out of his pocket and handed it to Vance.

"And the letter?"

Grudgingly, Sterling handed it over.

"This is one of the buildings at Rock Creek park. If the hostage is there, we will find them. Mister Shelley?"

Shelley came out of his reverie with a start, and stepped forward.

"Please escort Mister Sterling to the brig. He'll be safe there. I want all four guards on duty in front of his cell tonight. After you make sure they all arrive safely, I'd like your help with this." He indicated the letter. Shelley nodded once and prodded Sterling out the door.

(0o0)

Quinn had started what the Leverage team would call a whisper campaign. A word here, the hint of a suggestion there, and the small army Quinn was building was slowly growing larger. Who would have thought that that many people owed Eliot their lives, or a favor, or were owed a favor and wanted to see him live to repay it. Whatever the case was, Quinn was glad they were willing to help. Now, he had to move on to the next part of his plan. He wanted to have everything in place by the time the team returned. He assumed they would be returning with Eliot, but if not, the man had to return before the mission was over, and they would be waiting for him when he did.

(0o0)

"Why don't you start at the beginning and tell me what happened?" Doc spoke in a soothing tone, trying to help the old man calm down. Her physical examination hadn't turned up anything but a slightly elevated blood pressure, but that could be because of the stress of the situation. Otherwise, the old man was as healthy as the proverbial horse. He was mighty shaken, though.

Doc looked down toward the other end of her treatment room, where one of her medics was working on getting Eliot and Amanda settled. They needed to be under observation, but she had a bad feeling about leaving them at the hospital there, especially after what happened. Other people might have laughed at that, but she had learned long ago to trust these gut feelings, and so she had her medics prepare them for transport, and transported them to her safe house, where the rest of the team was staying.

She looked back at the old man, and decided to try something different. Leaving him in the semi private area where she performed exams that required some privacy, she moved over to the counter and brewed a pot of coffee. Then, she put two mugs on a tray, along with sugar and cream, and carried it back over to where he sat, staring off into space and absently wringing his hands.

"Mister Wright? He slowly came back to himself and looked up at her. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Cream, no sugar."

She passed him the cup with coffee in it, as well as the cream, a saucer, and a spoon. She sat across from him and studied some papers on her desk while he fixed his coffee and took a sip.

He was surprised how good her coffee was. The two of them sat quietly drinking their coffee until he had finished the cup.

"What kind of coffee is this? It is excellent."

"I'm glad you like it. It's an obscure blend from Mozambique. A friend started the company, which protects the forest in which it is grown, as well as the women who grow it, and the elephants who live there. How are you feeling?"

"I'm a little better, but I feel guilty about my part in what happened to the Spencer boy."

"What was your part?" Doc asked, looking at him closely.

"Some men came into my shop while I was working and said they were friends of the Spencer boy, and they had heard about the accident, and wanted to be sure everyone was okay. They were rough looking characters and I didn't want them in my shop. I told them I hadn't seen the Spencer boy in years, and had no reason to think he would be coming to see me. Then I asked them to leave.

"They told me that they would be watching, and if he came by, I was to keep him there. If I didn't, they would send me pictures of my wife and my granddaughter, dead. They showed me a picture of the two of them from inside my house, so I would know they could do what they said they would do. I was scared, and I didn't know what to do, so I did what they said. Only, Eliot protected me, helped me get to the door, and then told me to go home and call the police and send them back to him. I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't stop thinking about how they were able to get a picture of my family from inside my house. How did they do that? I knew they would know if I called the police."

He was starting to get agitated again, and with effort worked to get himself under control.

"Of course you couldn't risk your wife and your grandchild. Eliot wouldn't have expected that."

"Well, I should have been able to do something. He could have been killed."

"When Eliot wakes up, I think you should talk to him about this. In the meantime, don't beat yourself up. It all turned out all right. Eliot is safe, and he's a fighter. I think he'll be okay. Now, I want you to stay here as long as you need to do so. There's plenty of coffee. When you feel like joining us, please do so. There will be no further questions from any of us tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some things to do."

She walked down toward the other end of the room to check on Amanda and Eliot, but, as usual, her people had done a good job getting them settled, and both were sleeping. Drawing her phone out of her pocket, she saw a message from Vance, telling her that he and Shelley were investigating something and would be late. He would bring dinner when he came, since none of them had thought about eating.

She typed a quick, coded response, effectively asking them to check on the old man's family as well, before they came back. Then, she settled in to complete paperwork and wait.