Logan was hoping House would be gone by the time he got up, but was disappointed by the sound of someone in the cabin. As he walked downstairs, he couldn't help but notice that House's eyes were following him throughout the room. "What the fuck are you looking at now, Greg?" Logan growled.

"You know—that's actually a really good question. What am I looking at?" he pondered, and watched Logan move through the room. "A man who weighs considerably more than his size? Who can decapitate a bear, who is running for his life...and who appears to be almost magnetic. I'd love to know what it is I'm looking at. This definitely beats all of my clinic duties. So I pickpocketed Kayla's phone." He brandished it and spun it in his fingers, noting the murderous look in Logan's eyes and the instinctive half-step he took towards him. "Don't worry. Found no incriminating evidence. Strangest thing I found was her outgoing calls."

Eyes flashing with rage, Logan snapped the phone away from him.

"Evidence of a phone call to William Stryker. Last year."

"Stay out of this," Logan snapped.

"Who do you think you are, a Colonel?" House asked jokingly.

"Hey, you know what I did to that bear, and it was minding its own business. What do you think I would do to a prick like you, huh?"

House shrugged innocently. "Gut my colleague when he walks through the door and strangle me with his intestines?" he asked, and raised his eyebrows when the fellow grouch stared at him.

Finally Logan opened the cutlery drawer. "Thanks for the tip," he grumbled. "Look, you're out of here in the next two hours. Don't think you can—" Logan's words ran short when the window to his right suddenly exploded as shots rang out. Next thing he knew, he and House were hiding behind the kitchen island together.

"Why didn't you kill them all?" House whispered hoarsely.

"You really want an explanation right now?" Logan retorted. He got up and walked to the front door, crouching forward. He disappeared behind the corner of the kitchen and hallway. House heard him groan as he was shot; then there came the sound of knives again, as a man outside screamed. "Greg!" Logan barked, and House managed to run to where Logan stood. He barely had time to observe the startling lack of blood before Logan pushed him out into the dark wilderness. Suddenly he was pushing keys and a gun into his hand. "Take my bike."

And like a madman, he turned around and stepped over the body, reentering the targeted cabin.

Dividing his attention between the map and the road, Chase was slowing down and preparing to take the right turn up the foresty trail when he heard a motorbike. On a narrow road, he decelerated before the turn, trying to spot the biker. He turned his eyes up front just in time to see the biker come skidding down the hill of dirt, landing roughly on the road. He clutched a cane.

"House?" Chase asked the empty air. He began following the biker. But he hit the brakes again with a wordless yelp when he saw a man with long claws, flashing in the light of the rising sun, come running through the trees directly towards the car. Seeing him following House, Logan brandished his claws.

"Shit!" Chase yelled. He put the car in reverse, drove backward and spun the car around. The back window shattered as Logan's claws raked through. Unscathed, Chase floored it and sped after the frantic cyclist, leaving Logan in his dust. He could have sworn he heard an animalistic roar as he followed the biker's dusty trail.

House paid him no mind when Chase honked his horn. He was done taking chances.

Ironic, how a wanted fugitive could be uncomfortable staying with wanted fugitives. Eyeballing a narrow alley up ahead, House took a sharp turn and disappeared inside, as both mirrors on the motorcycle snapped clean off. Luckily the alley wasn't a dead end. He accelerated again, looking over his shoulder at the stymied headlights illuminating the alley.

Knowing he would never catch up to him now, Chase hit the steering wheel in frustration and began turning around.

House waited for what felt like enough time, then doubled back to Kayla's. He moved slowly throughout the cabin, checking for people; and it appeared to be abandoned, home only to the dead. "Louie, you here?" he called. Stepping over yet another fallen mercenary—or whatever—House paused, then knelt beside him, examining his weapon.

"Oh, yeah," he said to himself. He stole the gun off the dead man, keeping it raised as he continued to inspect the building. When he had determined that he was alone with the bodies, he began clearing them out. It just wouldn't do if Kayla came home to a murder scene.

He wasn't expecting to see Wilson's face on every soldier.

He was scrubbing the bloodstains off the hardwood when the sound of knives clanging together made him jump. He looked up to see Logan slowly entering the house, scrutinizing him.

"I said take my bike, not break it," Logan greeted him. "Where are all the dead guys?"

House looked back at the floor, surveying his work. "Pushed them off the cliff."

"Oh, Jesus, goddamnit, you moron..."

"'Scuse me?"

"You don't come to Canada very often, do ya? They don't call it a park for no reason."

House was quiet as he continued to clean the blood. When Logan knelt to assist, he was smiling. "Listen, on your drive home, turn to CBC and listen to the news. I get the feeling you'll want to hear about my arrest."

"Your arrest? Why?"

"All those men I killed, and Stryker wasn't one of 'em. I have a certain M.O. when it comes to murder, and he's familiar with it. But with or without that broadcast, he'd find those bodies. You were right before, he's a Colonel. You think they don't keep tabs on their men?" Logan looked up then, with eyes that burned holes into his. "You think you can protect her while I'm gone?"

House didn't know how to respond, so he wiped the blood in silence. As he thought about the decapitated bear, and the crushed vehicle, he said, "Stryker should hire you."

Logan picked up the bucket and relocated to another bloodstain. "He did."

House struggled to his feet and followed him there. "So, the dog tags. You were in the army?"

"No, I bought these at a pet store, pissed him off."

"So you're being hunted by your own comrades?" House asked, and cringed a little. "That, uh, that sounds ugly."

"You're saying your colleagues never once had the thought?"

"I know they did. Kind of goes against what they do for a living. You got in with the wrong crowd."

"Yeah, you can say that again," Logan muttered.

Finished with the bloodstain, the men stood up and looked around the house. It looked normal. Kayla would never know otherwise...but they always would.

House looked up at the clock. "Well, I guess my esteemed colleague forgot about me."

"Your hand still fucked?"

"I can live with it."

Logan turned around and abruptly let himself outside. House followed, thinking he had never known someone with such poor people skills in his life...