Meg fished some change from her desk and headed toward the vending machines closest to the central control center. Selecting a bag of shortbread cookies Meg retrieved them from the catch basket and headed into the darkened computer room. Casually she wove her way toward a young woman staring into the light of a monitor. Popping the bag open Meg didn't have to wait long.

Sensing someone behind her, Alex quickly minimized the video feed she had been watching before glancing up. Meg tilted the bag of cookies toward her. Alex relaxed and reached in to take one without a word. It was something of a ritual between the two of them. "Thanks," Alex mumbled around the cookie. "What's up."

"What video do we have on Henry's escape from the hatch?" Meg asked.

Alex turned back to the monitor. Alex pulled a file from the correct time stamp. The video quality wasn't very good. Most of the screen was black with shadow. Meg could just make out Henry's battered form leaning back against the wall. "The battery cable for the cameras in the Swan were out until Henry was able to get into the control room to reattach them. So we don't have anything on when he got all the injuries."

Meg nodded, "I'm just looking for some evidence of gunshots around the time of his escape.

Alex hesitated, "You won't find any." She said without looking back at Meg. "It's been classified and removed," she added in a hushed whisper.

Meg offered her another cookie. "Who?" Meg asked. Alex shrugged, "When the door opened we could only see one. Subject 513."

"Has Henry said anything?" Meg asked.

Alex shook her head, "He filed a report though."

Meg sighed and dropped the bag of cookies beside the keyboard. "I need a favor. Could you post an ad for me on the central bulletin board?" Alex nodded and started typing. "I need it to say family pet needs good home ASAP. Can't be kept in current situation. Excellent breeding."

Alex nodded. "Is it a dog or cat? I should probably add that."

"It's a shepherd," Meg said with a smile. "Can you let me know if anyone responds?"

Alex sighed, "No sweat. Sorry to hear about your dog, I'd take him if I could."

Henry paced down the length of the observation wall. Like a caged animal he knew on a subcontious level exactly how many lengths to the wall and he turned to retrace his path without an outward glance. It was late. Scott had been happy to leave his shift to grant Henry his privacy. Henry paid no attention to the forms sleeping on the other side of the glass. He was absorbed with studying the broken skin over his knuckles. He scratched at a fleck of dried blood. Watching how it flaked before falling away from his skin. He poked at the swollen area just to feel the bone hidden beneath.

His mind fell back on the familiar, taking a scientific approach to categorize and classify the how and why of the event. It was easier to focus on the physical; details like his hand, and the white bandaging the man on the other side of the glass, his nightmares. It made what had happened more acceptable to disassociate himself with the details. He was paid quite a lot to solve these sorts of issues for other people. Competency blinded him to any thought that this was any different because it was his. He could even admit the evidence was classic PTSD and wasn't identifying the problem half the battle to solving it?

His physical surroundings forgotten Henry's attention was on solving the puzzle. His mind raced, questions and theories in quick fire succession. His lips moving with the thoughts. But the harder he focused the more the edges of each concept blurred. The scientific process broke down into a jumble of murmured half-understood rambling. Round and round, each moment spiraling further into confusion.

Henry jerked his head up. The sound of his voice muttering along with the unintelligible had snapped him out of the cycle. But he had to double check that he was still the only person in the room. An eerie feeling there had been other voices joining his came over him. Henry stared through the glass at Sawyer, Kate and Jack. Had they been talking and he hadn't paid attention? It was the only explanation. Henry leaned forward against the observation glass. They were doing a fair job at acting asleep. His eyes settled on Jack. An accidental cracked rib or two wasn't equal to being shot by an arrow and tortured. Deep down something stirred, Henry pulled back from the glass to keep himself from following those thoughts. He was a man of science and this was a subject that needed his help. He was the better man for taking the higher road. Henry turned to call Scott back on duty. It was past time to get some sleep. He promised himself that he would take something to keep the nightmares at bay.

Flashback

Nigel Cordry moved through the sea of dancers toward the far end of the bar, an intoxicated platinum blond on each arm. He moved with a loose gait, his body drifting lazily between his two beach bunnies. This world of warm twilight, techno, and intimate chance encounters showed him to his best. Minor disappointments like the thinning of his hair, the crooked shift of a tooth faded beneath the sparkle of the dance floor. But tonight Nigel had wandered further than he liked from the neon glow of his beloved a go-go clubs.

He glanced around the Safari in disdain. The clientele was a little more discriminating than what he frequented and the piped music was reserved as filler between live bands. He was much further from the center of Phuket nightlife than he liked, but tonight he was searching for something… er, someone rather; he corrected himself. He congratulated himself on the fancy maneuvering he had done to draw the two blondes he had hooked earlier, out to the Safari.

Nigel waved down a bartender to order a round of drinks. Tossing a fat tip onto the bar Nigel asked for a Jack Shepherd. The bartender set down their drinks and waved toward the tables set along the far wall. Nigel turned to squint through the heavy shadows for the man he was looking for. He had been by the DWB headquarters to pick up the details on his next assignment when he overheard that Shepherd was in town. Something to do with operations around Sangklaburi being shut down due to an increased threat of violence.

Jack startled as Nigel and his two girls tumbled into the empty chairs beside him. Nigel leaned forward with a big grin and reached across the table to give Jack a slap on the shoulder. "Jack! How ya been?" he slurred in greeting.

Jack didn't respond immediately. He rubbed the side of his face then let his hand drop back to his drink. His dark gaze sliding off Nigel back to his drink. "Nigel." Jack acknowledged, his voice too soft to hear over the music. The blond on Nigel's right unwrapped herself to lean against Jack. She fidgeted with a practiced pout. Nigel watched the show for a few seconds before fishing a few bills from his wallet. "How about you girls go see about another round while I have a chat with my friend here."

Nigel turned back to Jack once the girls had left. "Hey," He knocked on the table for Jack's attention. "Heard about your clinic."

"You did?" Jack asked without enthusiasm.

Nigel plucked the glass out of Jack's hand and downed the contents in one smooth swipe. "Yup, heard they shut down operations in the whole area." The ice clinked as Nigel tipped the glass with consideration. "So, when did you start drinking?"

"Nigel, not tonight," Jack said in exhaustion. He pushed his chair out in preparation to leave but Nigel's hand caught his wrist.

"Come on Jack! I haven't seen you in an age. I knew you'd be the type to take this sort of thing hard, but your boy's got just the thing to set you right." Nigel chewed his lip nervously, "Really, just what you need." Jack hesitated then leaned back in his seat.

"OK" Jack submitted. He gave Nigel a wary look. Nigel was an anathesiologist who had a taste for the drugs he had been trained to administer. It wasn't an unusual quirk for a highly trained medical professional that choose third world volunteer work rather than starting their own medical practice. Jack found himself in a similarly unemployable position after the malpractice suite at St. Sebastian. It didn't really have any bearing on the skill of their work. Jack studied Nigel's pupils trying to decide how much of a buzz he was riding.

Jack didn't feel like company. He wasn't sure what it was that he did feel. Something like a buzzing vacantness, if that were possible. Given the choice he would have been in his hotel room asleep. But sleep just seemed to focus the white noise into nightmarish detail, flashes of sound, the sharp pop of gunfire. Since Beeree he had found night better spent awake than trapped reliving a memory he had difficulty recalling.

He would have tried forgoing sleep entirely if he hadn't studied the effect of insomnia on the human body in med school. There was plenty of research, test cases where insomnia had resulted in insanity, even death and Jack wasn't quite ready to embrace that. Every night around the decent hour of ten PM Jack lay down to give sleep another try because it was what he was supposed to do. Because he needed to drive the static out of his head before it drove him crazy. And he repeated the pattern because he couldn't think of any other way back to normal.