This chapter, and indirectly pretty much everything I publish from here on, is dedicated to the amazingly supportive Kaniac Ladies who encourage me to keep going when I am pretty sure there is no reason to. I pledge to them I will not throw out my keyboard!
Chapter 4
Nate spent most of the following morning on the phone. Quinn was the first call. It took no small amount of convincing, but finally he agreed to stay away for the moment. Nate doubted seeing Quinn would trigger any memories in Eliot, since none of the team had had that effect. On the other hand, the association with Quinn was a little more physical and if something did come back to him, the results might be unpleasant. What was really needed right now was someone to keep an ear to ground for rumors in the Black Ops world that Eliot was back. There was no way Evan could handle the appearance of anyone out to collect any of the dozen or more bounties on his counterpart. Tara also promised to watch of any indications that Eliot's return had been noticed, but only after being assured she would be notified the minute she could come see him for herself. It had taken a while for the two of them to warm up to each other when she had filled in for Sophie, but by the time they parted things had changed, and she was a bit surprised by just how delighted she was to know the hitter back in her world.
He saved the most important call for last. He could hear the stress in Shelly's voice the minute the younger man recognized his caller. "Is everything OK Nate? You need me for something?" There was a bit of hesitation in the question. Clearly he had been as uncomfortable working with them as they had with him. The tension was too high, and the emotions too raw. All of that was about to change.
"Hope you're sitting down Shelly. I've got news – good news. Eliot's here." Nate waited a few seconds for a response, but there was silence. He couldn't even hear breathing. "Shelly – are you there? Shelly?"
"If this is some kind of scam, or sick joke… No, of course it isn't. Even you guys wouldn't pull that. You're serious? He's alive? He's alive." The last words were almost whispered as he ran out of energy.
"Shelly, slow down. Yes, he's alive, and he's relatively OK but th…"
"What the hell does relatively mean?"
"That's what I'm trying to explain." Ten minutes and a few dozen questions later the situation had been clarified and they entered the planning stage.
"Yeah Nate, I know someone who can check Eliot over. Tony Richards. He's a medic from back in the day. Patched both of us up, more than a few times, so he knows Eliot which might be helpful. But why not take him to a doctor there? It's not like they'd have to report anything."
"Well, for one thing, he doesn't want to see a doctor. Had to convince him is was an insurance thing to make it work. So, if a real doctor starts raising issues, there could be problems."
"What issues? What problems?"
"Well, he might start by wondering why Eliot has more scars on him than your average crash test dummy. Even being in the service wouldn't explain everything. And I have a feeling if Eliot gets at all antsy about any of this, he could just up and disappear again. It's not like he feels that he has anything keeping him here.
"You said for one thing. Is there another reason?"
"Yeah – a regular doctor won't tell us anything, where your guy will. And we need to know what is going on if we're going to help sort this out."
"OK – give me a few days to work out the details and we'll be there."
"Shelly, you don't need to come." Again, Nate was greeted with silence. "Right – what was I thinking. Don't get your hopes up. He won't know who you are, and you can't tell him, at least not yet."
"I know that Nate. I just…I need to see him. I don't think I can really believe this until I do. You understand?"
"Yeah – I get it. We'll be waiting for you."
A week later things had started to settle into more of a routine. 'Evan' was quickly becoming a dominant force in the kitchen. Even the regular chef was ready to acknowledge the new guy had a unique perspective on food and was finding his input invaluable. They'd all gotten a little more used to the new name. After all, they'd had so many aliases in the past that this really was nothing more than another role.
Nate was waiting at the bar when Shelly arrived.
"Where is he?"
"Sit down. I'll get him out here in a minute. I know I'm repeating myself but…
"I got it Nate - he won't know me or remember anything before the explosion and I doubt seeing me will unlock everything. Tony gave me the full run down on what to expect. Including the fact we shouldn't lead him to his memories. Apparently it's better for him to come back on his own. Don't see why we can't give it a push, but I promised I'd play by the rules. Now get him out here."
Nate starred at him, not making a move to summon Eliot. Shelly took a deep breath. "I promise – I'll behave."
"Okay." Nate turned and nodded to Sophie, who had been waiting near the kitchen for his signal.
"Evan – have you got a minute. Nate's got a friend here he'd like you to meet."
After checking quickly to make sure everything was under control he grabbed a cloth and wiping his hands, joined her to head to the bar. The young man next to Nate was trying not to stare, and failing miserably.
"Good to meet you – I'm Evan."
"Uh – yeah. Hi. Sorry – you just reminded me of someone for a minute. Good to meet you too. Nate speaks highly of your skills. Looking forward to dinner."
"Evan, we're planning a little poker game after closing tonight. Care to join us?" Nate was hoping the informal atmosphere might help everyone feel a bit more relaxed.
"Tempting, but I'm not exactly rolling in funds at the moment, so I think I better pass."
"Oh, we don't play for high stakes. Nickel and dime really." At least that was how the evening would start. With a little bit of cheating and creative card playing they should be able to get some much needed cash into Eliot's hands before the night was over. "It's mostly an excuse to kick back with a few beers. Come on – sit in."
"Thanks for the offer, but…" He looked at their faces. What was he avoiding? They seemed sincere, and everyone had gone out of their way to help him fit in. It wasn't like he had other plans. And they certainly couldn't cheat him out of a fortune he didn't have. "What the hell, why not? You'll have to stake me until my boss gives me my first paycheque though."
"I think I can handle that. See you at closing time. Oh – fix up something for Shelly here will you – one of your special pizzas."
"One with the works coming up." He smiled as he returned to the comfort of his kitchen.
Nate turned to Shelly just in time to see the young man drop into his seat limply.
"It's really him. I know you told me, and I had no reason to doubt, but seeing him, talking to him. My God Nate, it's really him." They'd all had the same delayed reactions over the last few days. In the middle of a conversation, watching him working in the kitchen, and sometimes for no apparent reason whatsoever, one of them would suddenly shudder, or grin, or stare blankly as the reality struck again that Eliot was back. Now seeing Shelly have that same moment of revelation, Nate couldn't help but grin a bit.
Within an hour of closing time the game was well underway, with Eliot starting to accumulate a nice little pile of chips in front of him. Amoung the skills he had retained, poker was evidently near the top of the list. So far, no one had "forfeited". In fact, had they not come up with the plan for a game, they would have sworn they were being hustled.
"Where'd you learn to play poker like this?" Shelly asked.
He shrugged. "Just seem to know." He looked at the younger man. "Nate didn't fill you in on my story?"
"Nah - just that you were a bit of a mystery. I enjoy a good mystery. Care to share?"
"Not really. Sorry – don't mean to be rude, but no."
"No problem." He said the words, but didn't mean them. He and Eliot had been through so much together, most of which couldn't be told to anyone. They were part of a small, very exclusive group who shared that past, and losing the connection cut deeply.
"So what about you Shelly – what do you do when you're not playing cards?"
His standard answer of "If I told you I'd have to kill you" somehow didn't seem so amusing anymore. "I'm military." Short and to the point.
"Really? Career?"
"Yes sir."
"Seems like a rather strange choice. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for defending your country – I've got the distinct feeling my background supports that. But as a career? Seems like a brutal way to live your life."
There was silence at the table. They were all stunned by the irony of this point of view. Violence had been such a daily part of his life, not to mention that it was responsible for his current predicament. To hear him speak this way was startling. He misinterpreted their response.
"Oh, hey. I'm sorry man. I didn't mean to offend anyone. Like I said, I respect what you do. Anyone in service deserves that. Guess I'm just saying I couldn't see myself doing something like that. All the covert stuff, and the violence – not my thing."
"No offense taken" Shelly found his voice again. "It's not for everybody, I agree. It takes a certain kind of person to do what I do. Not good or bad – just us. A friend of mine taught me that."
Parker looked at him in surprise. Eliot had helped her learn the same lesson.
Looking at Hardison, Evan spoke again. "So, it that where you met Shelly – in the service together?"
Hardison tilted his head. "What makes you think I was in the service?"
"Tags", he responded, pointing at Hardison's chest. "Saw the dog tags on you the other day. I just assumed…"
"They ain't mine. They're from a friend. A really good friend."
"Must be – can't imagine somebody would hand those over to just anyone."
"No – he wouldn't. They're kind of a keepsake. Something to remember him by – like I could forget." He started to grin until he caught the look on his friend's face, and he realized what he'd said. "Oh hey man, I didn't mean anything."
"No sweat. I get it. You're lucky to have a friend like that. Lucky to have that memory."
Shelly broke the awkward silence. "Evan, I know you don't have all the info, but, well, the way you were hurt? Do you know what you were doing there in the first place?"
"All they could tell me is that I was helping out in a local village. I assumed it was some kind of Peace Corps or volunteer kind of thing. To be honest, I haven't remembered enough to even start to try to put things together." He wasn't comfortable with the way the conversation had turned. "Whose deal is it?"
Taking their cue, the others turned the conversation to lighter matters, and soon everyone was back to focusing on now trying to keep Eliot from walking away with all of their cash. A little while later the game wrapped with Eliot raking in the last pot of the night. "Looks like I can afford to pay you some rent now. What's the going rate for the room here?"
"That's already been factored into your pay." Nate came back with smoothly. "Don't worry about it."
"Really? You guys pay well for a back-up chef position." Eliot stared back.
"Let's just say we want to help you get back on your feet. Give it a few weeks and we'll renegotiate if that makes you feel better."
Too tired to argue, and having decided after spending a little over a week with the man that Nate was just too stubborn to waste time arguing with, Eliot nodded wearily. "In a little while we are going to have to sit down and have a serious talk about a few things. See you in the morning. Yes, I remember – after the medical check-up."
After he was gone, the others gave up the pretense of heading out for the night and regrouped around the table.
Shelly spoke first. "This is all so weird. I mean, he seems like Eliot when he's playing cards or joking around, but then when he starts talking about other stuff- totally not. He really doesn't remember anything about the accident, or before?"
"Nothing. He seems to have rationalized being in a situation that could get him that badly hurt without recognizing the most logical reason for being in a war zone, or whatever you want to call that part of the world. Do you think this "Doc" Richards of yours will be able to help him remember?"
"Man I hope so."
"Do you think he should?" Sophie asked quietly. All eyes turned to her. "Believe me, I want Eliot back as much as you all do, but do we have the right? Evan is relaxed, happy with his life. He goes to bed at a normal hour and, from all indications, sleeps through the night. No nightmares, no demons. Is it fair to give him back those memories?"
"Evan isn't Eliot. He's not himself. That's no way to spend your life. He'd want to come back to us." Parker tried to keep herself from being angry at Sophie. She knew it was a legitimate question, and maybe they were being selfish, but Eliot was Eliot, and he should be himself, not this pale imitation. She liked Evan, but it wasn't the same. He didn't joke with her, didn't call her crazy, didn't make her feel safe in the way only Eliot could. Evan was better than nothing, but not by much."
"There's more to it than that Sophie. What if the memories come back unexpectedly? What if he's in the middle of something and suddenly flashes on a fight or a battle? Or worse, on something he can't even tell us about. It would hit him like a freight train. If we can find a way to help Eliot remember in the right environment, and with support around, we need to do that."
Hardison had another concern. "What if someone comes after him? He has more than just Damien Moreau or the Butcher of Kiev in his past. There are lots of folks out there who want him, and not for anything pleasant. He needs to know about that – to be ready for it."
"Quinn will let us know if someone is coming after him."
"Quinn might not know until it's too late."
"OK, but he's still got us watching his back."
"We can't do it 24/7. He might get a little curious after a while. And even if we could, we aren't exactly the body guard types."
"Exactly" Parker added. "That's why we had him in the first place. Eliot was the hitter. Eliot was the protection. Eliot was the guy who could beat the crap out of 6 guys without breaking a sweat."
"Who's Eliot?" None of them had heard Evan come back. They were silent, not knowing how to respond. "He sounds like a real piece of work."
Nate hesitated for a moment. This was the opportunity. They could fill him in, talk it all out. But Evan didn't seem to think too much of his forgotten alter-ego, and introducing the two might not be the best plan right now.
"Just a guy we used to know. Shelly worked with him in the past."
Hardison felt the bizarre need to defend Eliot to Evan. "We probably gave you the wrong impression. He was one of the good guys. You know – the kind who would do anything for a friend. Kind of guy you could always count on to have your back. No matter what."
"You said you used to know him – what happened? If you don't mind my asking."
"We lost him in an accident. Typically, one where he was helping out his friends – again."
"So he was your friend with the dog tags?" Hardison nodded, afraid to speak again. "Sorry to hear that. Sounds like he was – interesting." He grabbed the jacket he'd left come back for. "See you in the morning. Shelly – nice to have met you."
They sat in silence for a moment, making sure their friend was out of hearing distance.
"That was just a tad awkward." Sophie stated the obvious. "Doesn't sound like he would be a fan of – well – himself. Of course, in many ways, he never was."
"Which is why you think this may all be a blessing in disguise?" Hardison made it sound more like an accusation than a question.
"I never meant to imply that. I just wonder if we aren't best to leave things alone, at least for now. I think he is still more fragile than he lets on. And yes, I realize the words 'fragile' and 'Eliot' don't belong in the same sentence. But as we keep coming back to – he isn't Eliot. Maybe…" she hesitated a moment "maybe Eliot did die that day."
They all sat in silence again, recognizing, and fearing, the veracity of her statement.
TBC