Hours had passed, and the time of required quarantine was coming to an end for those who had not come down sick. Doc was making rounds, doing final examinations for those she planned to release, checking liver function and blood. She knocked on the door to the room she had put Parker in until they could talk. There was no answer, but the door was unlocked, so she opened it and walked inside. The room was empty, which Doc had half expected. She had never known a room to hold Parker if she didn't want to stay there. She only hoped Parker understood the gravity of the situation and hadn't left the building, though she wasn't showing any signs of illness the last time Doc had talked to her, and with what had happened to Parker on this last mission, she doubted the young woman was ready to go out into the world yet.

Leaving Parker's room, she knocked on the door to the room Rachel was using, and heard a faint answer, which she took as permission to enter, so she did. Doc stopped just inside the door, surveying the scene before her. Rachel was lying on the bed, half asleep, propped up on a few pillows, and still pretty sick from the treatment she had received at the hands of her sister's husband. Parker sat statue still on the top of the chest of drawers, legs crossed under her. Her eyes acknowledged Doc's presence, but she made no motion to leave, nor indeed, any motion of any kind.

Doc moved up to Rachel's bed, gently took her wrist, and counted out her pulse. As she did so, Rachel stirred but didn't wake up. Doc shook her, trying to get her to a more lucid state. She opened her eyes for a second, then closed them again, and Doc wondered if Rachel even knew she was there. Placing the ends of her stethoscope in her ears, she listened to Rachel's chest. To her relief, the young woman's breathing was normal, as was her heartbeat. So, this was probably only her body's reaction to the fear and stress she had lived with for the past days.

Since Rachel wasn't in any immediate danger, Doc left her to rest, motioning to Parker to come out with her. The top of the chest of drawers was empty and Parker was gone.

Doc moved back down the hall toward the office she had set up in Hardison's spare apartment. She walked inside, half expecting to see Parker waiting there for her. But the room was empty. No sooner had she sat down at her desk, than the door burst open and a strange man flew inside, staggering a bit as he came to a stop. An angry Eliot stood in the doorway, bristling. Blood tracked down the side of his face from a cut, and though he tried to hide it, she saw that he walked with a limp. She caught a glimpse of another man standing behind him.

She opened the door a bit wider, trying to see behind Eliot to the person who stood there. Almost imperceptibly, he shifted so that she still couldn't see.

"Eliot? What's going on? What happened?"

"This is one of the men who attacked Rachel and Gabby. We lost the other one. Clean him up before I kill him. I need to talk to my team. My friend, Quinn, will make sure he doesn't give you any problems. I patched them both up, but they'll need your expert care, too."

"Ten minutes, Soldier Boy. After that, I'll track you down."

He nodded. "Ten minutes."

As he left, she gazed at Quinn. "Well, come on then."

(0o0)

Quinn knew that Eliot trusted this woman, but Nate didn't seem so sure. He had gone along with her before because he had no choice. Careful to keep his guard up, he moved into the room. With her back to him, Doc fiddled with some equipment.

"So, we meet again, Mr. Quinn. Since blood trumps in these matters and you don't seem to be bleeding anywhere, I'll have to ask that you sit down over by the desk there, while I clean this man up. A couple of ground rules—you tell me the truth when I ask you a question, and I reserve the right to check for myself. Second one—leave any quarrel you have with me or Eliot or anyone else outside. There's no place for it here. I'll be happy to settle up with you later, if necessary."

While she was speaking, she was checking the injuries of the man Eliot had captured. A couple of them would require stitches. As she set about preparing to stitch up the wounds of the man in front of her, she felt the tension growing in the man behind her. She had just injected the man in front of her with a local anesthesia when Quinn lunged. In one fluid motion, she flipped him right on over her shoulder and he hit the floor hard and lay still for a moment. A few minutes later, the barrel of a shotgun nudged one foot, and a commanding voice said, "Sit up slowly."

When he had done so, she spoke again. "Are you wearing weapons?"

Again he nodded. "Deposit them on the desk."

Quinn made no move to do so, he simply stared at her instead.

"My only goal is to keep both of us safe. And to spare you the embarrassment of being tied up, stripped, and relieved of your weapons that way."

Quinn stared at her for a long time, studying her as if to determine whether she could really do what she threatened. Deciding she could, Quinn shrugged slightly, and then started unbuttoning his sleeves. Soon the table was full of Quinn's personal collection of body weapons. Though she would never say so, Doc marveled that he could carry a miniature armory around on his person. She had known people like that earlier in her career. She was grateful that neither Eliot nor Vance nor any of the other men and women she worked with these days found it necessary, as most of them were dangerous enough without weapons.

"Thank you, Mister Quinn. I know that wasn't easy for you. Now, to business, if you please."

(0o0)

Eliot was pacing like a caged tiger, back and forth, back and forth, in front of the sofa where Nate had gathered with Sophie and Hardison. His eyes took in Parker in the rafters, but he didn't comment.

"Hell no, Nate. Absolutely not."

"It may be the only option we have," Nate insisted.

"There are always other options."

"Like what?"

Eliot hesitated and the mastermind smirked at him. Eliot's voice grew dangerous. "I'll figure something out. We are NOT using a member of this team as bait." Eliot was careful not to say Parker's name, unsure if the mastermind had told her what he was thinking of doing. No one deserved to find out something like this that way.

"If it was anybody else, you would be all for it," Nate said, turning his head sideways and looking at Eliot as though he was just now seeing something about him for the first time. "Anybody but her."

Eliot started to protest but stopped before he got the words out. For once, Nate was absolutely right. He wouldn't insult the man's intelligence or embarrass himself by pretending otherwise. He was contemplating what he wanted to say, when a voice sounded behind him.

"Why don't you ask her what she thinks?"

"What?"

"You're talking about using someone on the team as bait. And you said 'she'. I'm not stupid. Since we're trying to catch a person from my past, who kidnapped me, and since I wasn't included in this little pow-wow, I can only assume you are talking about me. So, instead of making the decision between yourselves, why don't you ask me how I feel about that?"

Eliot said, "Because it really doesn't matter how you feel about it, or even how Nate or Hardison or Sophie or I feel about it for that matter. These guys have proven they are too dangerous for us to risk one of our own. They were able to abduct you last time, and disappear without a trace. What makes you think they wouldn't do it again?

Parker looked at him matter of factly and said, "Because I have one thing this time that I didn't have last time."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"All of you. You won't be looking for me this time, you'll be looking at me. And that gives us the advantage."

"Are you sure about this, Parker?" Eliot asked.

She nodded. "I don't think we have a choice. Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"When we do finally catch this man, I'll want answers. Then, I'll want to kill him."

"I think we can arrange that."