Joe groaned and opened his eyes. He reached up and gingerly touched the side of his head. It was not sticky as he had thought or had it even the feel of dried blood. Instead, he found his head had been bandaged. He sat up slowly and looked around. He was in a small room with no windows. The walls were a gray cinderblock and the only furniture present was the army-style cot he lay on.
His clothing had been removed only to be replaced with a pair of green boxers and a white tank shirt. He got to his feet, tossing the quilt he had been covered up with aside and made his way to the door. Twisting the knob he was not surprised to find it locked. He knocked on the door, wincing as the sound echoed in the room.
The door opened almost immediately and Matt entered the room with another man. "Hello, Joe," Matt greeted him. "This is Dr. Philip Curan," he introduced the man with him. "Dr. Curan will be taking care of you for the next few months."
"I'm not sick," Joe replied, trying to hide the fear he felt when Matt told him how long the doctor was supposed to stay with him.
"No," agreed Matt with a smile. "And hopefully, you will stay well. Dr. Curan is here to help you adjust."
"Adjust to what?" demanded Joe.
Matt smiled at him. "Sorry, Joe," he said. "I don't think you're ready to know just yet."
"You killed all of them," Joe accused Matt, changing the subject because he doubted he would get anything out of Matt that Matt didn't want him to know. "Even the crew and the captain. Why?"
"No witnesses," answered Matt.
"What am I?" asked Joe.
"The prize."
"But I'm worthless now that you've killed Tippoli," Joe argued.
Matt laughed. "Tippoli was a pawn," he told Joe. "I used him to get you. Now everyone will be looking for him."
"And when they find his body?" asked Joe.
"No one will," Matt assured him. "There are a lot of sharks in the ocean and the smell of fresh blood drives them crazy."
"Okay," Joe said slowly. "You killed all of those people just to get me. But why? Why am I the prize as you put it?"
"I told you," Matt said, slowly shaking his head. "You aren't ready to know. Just relax. Dr. Curan will take care of you and make sure you don't hurt yourself."
"I didn't hurt myself," Joe retorted, touching the bandage on his head. "You hit me with your gun."
"Some actions are necessary to ensure the success of the mission," Matt replied with a careless shrug. "But you are still alive and, I've been told, healing nicely. Now, I must leave you. I have some arrangements to attend to," he explained, leaving the room with the doctor still inside and locking the door.
"Back to bed," Dr. Curan ordered Joe. "I want to check your vitals."
"I'm fine," Joe replied, stubbornly refusing to return to the cot.
"We can do this the hard way," Dr. Curan stated, his green eyes serious. "I was chosen to be your doctor because of my martial arts training. I can knock you out in less than five seconds with no after-effects but I would rather keep this as pain free for you as possible."
"Why?" asked Joe, returning to the cot. Even if the doctor was lying, which he doubted, he was twice Joe's size and could probably overpower him without too much effort.
"You are a special guest," the doctor answered, pulling a penlight from a front pocket and shining it in Joe's eyes. "I'm here to help you; not hurt you."
The doctor finished his examination then pulled a syringe from his lab coat pocket. "What's that for?" Joe demanded.
"To make you sleep while we move locations," Curan answered honestly. "Would you rather have drugged food for the next few months or know exactly what is being done to you?" he asked when Joe glared at him.
Knowing he had no real choice, Joe held out his arm. Dr. Curan swiped a spot with a pre-moistened swab and inserted the needle. A few seconds later he helped Joe lay back on the cot. As Joe's eyes flickered shut, he heard the doctor rap on the door and announce that he was ready for transport.