Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
~ R&R ~
"One thing is for sure…" Winston poured himself another cup of coffee. "Grace would have never called Guerrero if this wasn't serious."
"What exactly is it between you two?", Ilsa asked, frowning.
Guerrero raised an eyebrow. And that's your business exactly why?, it said.
Ilsa rolled her eyes at him. You know exactly why. Stop playing games with me.
Guerrero snorted briefly. It's you who broke the rules.
Ilsa looked away, cheeks flushing. She was still ashamed about the Loch Ceiterein incident.
In Guerrero's book, that was a good thing. He had his pride, too. On the other hand – he and Chance had long mended fences. Why did he keep torturing Ilsa?
Because…
That evening, however, he took pity on her.
Yeah well, pity, Guerrero-style.
"Couple of years ago I told Grace I'd kill her if she didn't do exactly what we wanted. Apparently she's still not cool with that."
"You did the kneecap thing with her?", Ames asked, trying not to shudder. Old memories…
"Was more into knives back then."
"We're lucky she's helping us at all." Winston added more sugar to his coffee, still brooding about what to do with Chance.
"You are not still threatening her, are you?" Ilsa's voice climbed an octave higher. Now she was alert.
"A little reminder every now and then never hurt anyone", he replied, unfazed.
Can you live with that?, said the shrug of his shoulder.
Winston harrumphed. "Maybe we could get back to the problem at hand? Grace suggested drugging Chance, she said in his case the risks of continuous sedation outweigh the risks of him going back into the field again, but that somehow doesn't seem right."
"I'd be willing to pay him a Caribbean cruise. Ames could accompany him."
Ames looked at Ilsa in surprise. Is this still about Scotland?
Ilsa took an audible breath, lowering her gaze again. Ames made a dismissive gesture with her hand. It's okay. It always was. He was the idiot that evening.
"Chance confined to a ship for two weeks?" Guerrero shook his head. "Ever watched Speed2?"
"What's your idea then, locking him up in your private dungeon?" Secretly, however, Winston had similar concerns.
"I'm just saying…"
Just then the elevator dinged and Chance came back from his walk with Carmine. Seeing his crew assembled for powwow in the kitchen he knew immediately something was up. And judging from the way they looked at him, watched every move as he fed Carmine a treat, it wasn't too difficult to figure out what was going on.
"So, Grace called? Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?"
"Outweighed by Guerrero-knife confidentiality, I guess…", Winston mumbled. Grace knew very well if anything medical related happened to Chance and Guerrero came to the conclusion she should have seen it coming….
Ilsa decided to take the lead: "A recent study about company holidays indicates…"
"Cut the crap, Ilsa."
"You need rest, Chance. And as your business partner and, technically, your boss…"
Winston stifled a groan. Would she never learn that orders practically guaranteed Chance would do exactly the opposite?
"If you stopped getting on my nerves, that would be a start."
"You're hurt! You can't move properly!" Ilsa looked as if she was reconsidering Guerrero's suggestion regarding Chance's accommodation for the next two weeks. The rest of the team looked as if they were already trying to figure out how to transport him without too much additional damage to his body.
"You're all crazy! I'm fine!" Knowing that Guerrero was never one to shy away from drastic measures and that a worried Winston was no piece of cake to deal with either, Chance cautionary took on a defensive stance.
Things could have gotten ugly, but at this very moment his mobile rang. Chance checked the display, frowned and took the call.
"Philippa?"
The look on his face changed from not-sure-what-to-make-of-this to grave within a split second. They all tensed up.
"...Calm down… One thing after another…"
They couldn't catch what Philippa was saying, but she didn't sound calm at all.
"Is he alright?... Philippa! IS ASH ALRIGHT?"
The answer apparently was "yes" since Chance didn't drop everything and start running towards the elevator.
"We'll sort this out. Winston still has some buddies at the police department. And don't underestimate Ilsa's influence. Don't worry."
Philippa spoke some more, still very rapidly, while Chance's jaw slowly set in that dark, no-nonsense manner that indicated he was seriously angry.
"Yes. I will", he finally finished the conversation. The look on his face bode ill.
"Philippa will bring Ash by in a couple of minutes… Need your help, Winston…"
A minute later they all knew what had happened.
Damn it. The boy was turning into a handful.
When the security system announced the arrival of a visitor they disappeared out of sight. Winston had to make a couple of telephone calls anyway and Ilsa decided to devise a Plan B, should Winston's buddies refuse to help. As she retreated to her office, Guerrero followed her.
"I'd rely on money in this case…", he told her. "Your best chances might lie with…."
Only Ames remained in the kitchen, somehow feeling the urge to stay close to Ash. She knew from firsthand experience how it felt when Chance sat someone down for a heart-to-heart talk and although the boy had, even by her standards, definitely crossed a line here, she pitied him.
He was in for a tough time.