Disclaimer: This is going to get very repetitious, but, of course I don't own any part of Numb3rs or any of the characters. The OC's in the story are mine and on and on…

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"I knew it!" Colby hissed under his breath as he drove. "I knew something happened in that room. Why did I let myself be talked into accepting that it was just a dream? I knew it! I knew it was real!" He pounded the steering wheel, angry at himself for what was now probably wasted time.

After receiving the distraught, ominously terminated phone call he'd considered several options. One, which he discarded almost immediately, was that this was someone's idea of an elaborate practical joke. Somebody who knew of his experience at the hospital and the kind of reception his insistence that it all really took place had received. No, he decided, the call wasn't a joke. Dealing with many people under stress over the years, Colby figured he could tell by now when he was hearing the real thing. There was nothing phony about the anguish of that call. The patient in room W430 was the victim of a kidnapping, not a murder, at least not for certain a murder yet. Maybe two kidnappings by now, he reminded himself. Whoever the caller was, they hadn't hung up voluntarily. They hadn't called back either. Quite possibly, he ruminated grimly, because they were unable to.

Whatever the reason was, he would not waste any more time. Some unknown person, probably more than one, was in serious trouble, and right at this moment, Colby was the only one who had a clue about it. He had to do something, to at least try to help.

The first thread he pulled, the telephone call, went nowhere. Having the call traced revealed that it originated from a payphone nowhere near him. If his mystery contact was unable to do so again against their will, he couldn't wait for that to change. As he dressed gingerly, he considered his next move. He locked down his initial impulse, to contact David, Don or one of his other teammates. David was firmly convinced that it was all the by-product of an anesthesia and medication fueled dream. Persuading him, or any of rest of the team otherwise was going to require proof. Besides, they were all working a live criminal investigation. Pulling them away from it to chase the nebulous likelihood of one was not something Colby was prepared to attempt. So, for now, he was on his own, sore and less than one hundred percent though he was. Finished dressing, he hunted down his badge, ID and, after some deliberation, his gun and cuffs. Better to have and not need and all that. He was ready.

Plan B hit a snag right away. Room W430 had a new occupant. Colby eased open the door, after having taken pains to slip onto the floor unobserved, only to find an elderly gentlemen snoozing away in bed. A younger person, looking enough like the old man to be his son, snored softly in one of the uncomfortable looking chairs provided for visitors.

As he was mulling over Plan C, Nurse Diane Stevens came into view. She was just beginning her working hours with the shift change. Her mouth widened, shocked to see her former patient standing fifteen feet away.

"Why, Mr., I mean, Agent Granger, what brings you here?" She seemed acutely flustered. Her apparent distress at seeing him again triggered Colby's chase reflex. The look he returned to her was one that would have been recognizable to any one of the suspects or reluctant witnesses ending up on the wrong end of one of Granger's interrogations. He pinned her to the spot with his verdant glare.

"Nurse Stevens" his chill not-quite-a-smile conveying a message that the next few moments would likely be not very enjoyable for her, "Let's talk"

"I, I really can't Agent. I have patients to attend to, duties to take care of." She made a move to go round him. He blocked her.

"I'm afraid your patients and 'duties' are gonna have to cool their jets." His tone brooked no debate. "You got some 'splainin to do, Lucy. Right now. You can do it here, or you can do it down at the Bureau offices after I place you under arrest for obstruction. (He was bluffing, but she didn't know that) those are your choices. And neither is subject to negotiation." He paused, eyeing her in his most intimidating manner, "Limited time offer. Tick…tock"

Diane Stevens was a terrific RN but she'd make a lousy poker player. He watched a series of emotions flicker across her face in the span of about twenty seconds, finally settling on resignation. She looked down the hall and then pointed in the direction of the common quiet room that was the sight of her conversation with David Sinclair earlier in the week.

Once they were inside, she turned to face him. "You have to understand, Agent Granger. They told us, that is, it was explained to all of us that…well, we, the staff here, we had to say what we did! It's a matter of national security! Gravest importance. That's what we were all told! We didn't have a choice! I didn't have a choice! It's not right that any of us, any of the personnel in this hospital should be caught in the middle of this thing! That's not fair! We're only doing what we're supposed to do! What we were instructed to do! And say! And now, you want to arrest me! That's just not fair!" She was on the verge of tears.

Colby squelched the voice in his head yammering that he was a first class cad for making the nice nurse lady cry and pressed on. He could apologize after he got to the bottom of whatever was going on.

"Hit the reverse button for a second. Who told you what was a matter of national security? I need details, Nurse Stevens, the more the better. You can start with the who and work your way up to the whole national security part. Come on, give."

"Homeland Security" she breathed the words out in a whisper, angry now. Her upset lent her a measure of boldness. "The Department of Homeland Security. When Dr. Gerrard was admitted, they told us it was critically important that it be kept under wraps. That under no circumstances were any of us to acknowledge he was being treated here. Two of their agents talked to all of the staff that had a hand in Dr. Gerrard's care. They made sure we understood how vital it was that his presence be kept completely secret. That even if someone, no matter who it was, asked, we couldn't admit anything! So you see, we were only following instructions!"

"Dr. Gerrard?" Colby prodded.

"Yes, Dr. Conrad Gerrard. He's a prominent scientist. A government scientist. His work is in bio-weapons research. They didn't get more specific than that. Just that what he does is very important in the war on terror. He checked in two days before you arrived. Supposedly some kind of heart related illness, but I never bought that from the beginning. Someone with heart problems should have been admitted to our coronary care unit. I think it was just more nervous exhaustion. The poor man was so tightly wound, so worried. Aside from the Homeland Security people there was also the request from his wife to think about" Stevens stopped, more calm now.

"His wife?"

"Yes, Mrs. Alison Gerrard. Mrs. Alison Lucern Gerrard."

"Is her name meant to have some sort of special significance?" Granger was puzzled.

'Oh, honestly. I thought you were an FBI agent! How could you not know about the Lucern's. The family is extremely prominent. Considerably influential. They advise governments! Plural! The kind of people they rub shoulders with run the world. Not to mention their financial and real estate holdings!"

"Okay, Okay, I get it. The wife is American royalty. She asked you to keep her husband's admission hush-hush too?"

Stevens nodded. "So when you went into his room that night, she was very distressed. So much so that she insisted he be moved that very night! Which I supposed was done while myself and Kathy Ramos were busy seeing to you after your fall. When we went into Dr. Gerrard's room to check on him, he was gone!"

"You didn't have any problem with that? The sudden disappearance of a patient in the middle of the night is normal for you?" Colby shook his head disbelievingly.

"I told you, that was at Mrs. Gerrard and the Homeland Security personnel's insistence!"

"Nurse Stevens, are you sure the 'Homeland Security' agents were the genuine article?"

"Well, of course I am. They had the proper identification. And I hope you aren't about to suggest that Mrs. Gerrad was a fraud also. Rest assured, even if you have no idea what she looks like, the staff of this hospital does. Why our administrator is a friend of hers. I believe they serve on some of the same boards. I have done nothing wrong, Agent Granger. I insist you allow me to go back to work." Stevens stubbornly crossed her arms, still rattled.

Colby absently stepped aside to let the woman pass, already focused on the implications of the info he'd received. Whatever Stevens and her colleagues believed, Gerrard's exit from St. Ambrose that night was anything but voluntary or gentle. And hardly at the promptings of a loving spouse. He had not witnessed a murder or a patient being peacefully relocated, he'd seen an attempted abduction. Which had been competed later, obviously. Problem was, at the moment, he had no way to prove it. Despite his bluster, he really had no leverage or way to induce Nurse Stevens or any of the other hospital personnel to tell the truth about what actually happened. Also, if the Lucern family was as well connected as Diane Stevens implied, they could simply ignore any requests for cooperation. Or worse, make serious trouble for any one digging too deep or looking too closely. All the while, Gerrard and his son (?), Colby's mysterious caller, would be no better off and maybe worse. His somber musings were interrupted by Stevens "ahem". He turned.

"I can go now, right? I'm not in any trouble?" She acted as if she was almost afraid to hear the answer.

Alright you heel, he berated himself silently, time to let this poor woman off the hook. "Yes, you can go. And you, none of you, is in any trouble. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry if I upset you. And you're a dynamite nurse."

Her "thanks" was thrown over one shoulder as she fled the room with relief, leaving Colby alone.

He was back in his truck headed for home when his cell rang. Oops. Caller ID told him it was David. Busted.

"Granger."

"Don't you 'Granger' me!" David's furious baritone barked. "Where are you?! And don't say at home, because I'm sitting on your couch right now courtesy of your building manager who happens to know what good friends we are! You're supposed to be recovering from surgery, Colby, not driving around town!"

"I can explain" Colby told his friend, trying to placate him.

"Oh, believe me, you're about to! Am I an idiot for hoping you're on your way here?"

"I should be pulling up in about ten minutes." Colby answered.

"I'll be here!" David's call cut off in Granger's ear.

Whoopee. Well, might as well get it over with. Getting yelled at by your best buddy was a lot like ripping off a bandage. If you could ride out the first few minutes, the sting started to fade.

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