"Are we ready, Dr. Heersink?"

The white-coated pharmacologist glanced up from the page of the latest blood work. "It looks good. He was metabolizing the q-phenalone and thiopental combination almost as fast as we could put it in. But we've titrated a dosage that he can't clear so quickly, and the levels are holding steady."

"I hate that it had to come to this," Dr. Jezeric said regretfully. "But it's closing in on 24 hours now, and we can't keep him 'trussed up' as he puts it. I hope this works, for his sake."

"Ours too," Dr. Heersink said dryly, and angled his face toward the active display panel to his right. "Vitals are stable. He's ready when you are."

Dr. Jezeric straightened his shoulders, unconsciously ran a hand around the inside of his belt to check that his shirt was tucked in, and signaled the guard to open containment.

The patient was wilted in the restraints, no longer subtly tensing against them in hope of discovering a weakness. He breathed through parted lips, and his half-closed eyes were vacant. But when he heard the vaulted door swing open, he opened them fully. Sweat shone on his forehead and upper lip, but he managed a faint smile. "What's up, Doc?"

The doctor paced within the limited space for a few moments.Then he turned to face the man in the chair before him. "Time is 'what's up.' In a few more hours, you are going to be transferred to another facility, where they are going to use extremely crude measures to find out what you remember. There is no more time for jokes, or for pointless resistance." The man paled, but said nothing. Dr. Jezeric paused, and sat down slowly in the metal chair. "What was the last thing you clearly remember eating before you got here?"

A shaky breath. He was silent for so long that Dr. Jezeric wondered if he was going to answer at all, but then he said very softly, "Fruit."

"Excellent! What was it?"

"Plums."

"How did they taste?"

Lulled by the powerful drugs and the innocent questions, the stress lines in the man's face eased a little. "Juicy. Sweet. I broke a…a window to get them."

The doctor kept his voice soothing and low. "Where did you eat them?"

"I climbed up the building. Sat on the ledge and looked down. They were so good."

"I'm sure they were," Dr. Jezeric said reassuringly. "Then what did you do?"

"I put my rifle together…checked the scope."

"And then you waited?"

The patient tried to nod, but didn't seem too disturbed when he found that he couldn't. "Waited. Waited, waited. Then I saw the car. Easy shot, right…right…through the roooooof," he said, drawing out the last word. He blinked hard several times, trying to stay awake. "I'm so tired," he wavered.

"I know. Not much more. What happened after that?"

He let out a sound like a sob and his face contorted. "The kid. There was a kid in the car. He looked right at me…"

"It's all right, it's all right. What did you do then?"

The patient's right hand balled into a white-knuckled fist, even though the rest of his body did not move, except for his chest, which heaved as if he was running. "He saw me. I shot the kid. I shot a kid." His voice rose to a recriminating shout, and hot tears slid from eyes etched with pain. "A kid! I killed a little kid…!"

"And then you ran."

"I…don't remember," he sobbed, "I don't remember what I did until there were sirens and guns and…blood everywhere. Then I was here. Help me," he pleaded, and raised his distraught gaze to Dr. Jezeric. "Help me…"

Dr. Jezeric stood and gave the man a sympathetic look. "We will, I promise. Now that I know what the problem is, I can help you."

The doctor left the patient weeping in the restraint chair, and was thoughtful as he exited the containment area. Dr. Heersink met him in the secure vestibule. "Did it work?"

"Yes. We can help him now. Call the technicians."

As the alert was sent to the Handling team, Dr. Jezeric wrote his documentation on paper and then keyed his orders into the computer.Six courses, 85 cycles/second at 800 milliamps. Full wipe not required at this time, reserved in case of treatment failure. Cleared for immediate stasis after protocol. Hail, HYDRA.

The patient's agonized screams followed Dr. Jezeric to the elevator, but faded as the car rose toward his office floor.