Spencer's—Eliot's—head ached. Actually, "ached" was an understatement—it felt like his skull was trying to crack itself in half, and Lancaster's stupid fake western elevator music wasn't helping. Beside him, Ford cleared his throat.

"This isn't the right time to ask," he said. "But I need to know what you remember."

He hesitated. His instincts were still to hide his weakness, but Ford was... well, he wasn't sure what Ford was, except that he was someone Spencer trusted. He could feel that clearly enough, a certainty that settled into the pit of his stomach, whispering assurances that he was safe.

He didn't really know what to do with that.

"Start with the LanCast explosion," Ford suggested.

Spencer frowned at him, wondering how much of his mind Ford could read, and counted the floors as they descended. "As far as I can figure, I went inside the building looking for Parker, and met a handful of Lancaster's men. The explosion blew me through a window, and I woke up in the parking garage with Lancaster's men trying to find me. And I ran."

He tried to say the last part casually, but Ford shot him a curious look. "Of course you ran. What else were you supposed to do?"

Spencer shook his head. He couldn't say the rest out loud—not to Ford. He couldn't risk disappointing him before his memory came back. If Ford knew what he'd done… if he told him to leave…

"Eliot," Ford said. "You did the right thing. You got away. You found us again."

Spencer cleared his throat. "When we find Sophie," he said, turning to face the elevator doors. "Leave Janish to me. He's dangerous, but I've fought him before. I can handle him."

"You know him?" Ford asked.

"He knows me," Spencer admitted. "I don't remember."

Ford nodded. "At least we know how Lancaster found out about us. Hardison builds a good alias, but there's nothing he can do if someone recognizes one of us."

"Hardison is the hacker?" Spencer asked.

The doors slid open, finally, and Ford led the way into the hall. "Yes," he said. "Hardison is the hacker. He took your loss hard… we all did."

"Sorry."

"Eliot." Ford stopped, holding out a hand to catch Spencer when he tried to edge past. "You don't have anything to apologize for. Lancaster did this to you—to us—and we're going to make sure he pays for it. You are not to blame. Not for believing Lancaster, or for working with him, or for setting the bait to bring us here. If you hadn't, we never would have known you were still alive."

Spencer looked away, and Ford's grip on his arm tightened. "Is there something else?"

He might have answered—the words were there on the tip of his tongue, ready to condemn himself at Ford's order—but the crackle of a walkie-talkie sounded down the hall, and Spencer reached out to pull Ford back against the wall.

"Fourth floor clear," said a security guard, standing out of sight around a corner. "Moving on to the fifth."

Spencer tugged Ford's sleeve, and he moved with him without question, easing into a conference room on silent feet as the guard headed for the elevator. Spencer watched through a window in the door until the hallway was clear again, aware of Ford at his back, of the opportunity he was presenting if Ford turned out to be an enemy.

"He's gone," Spencer said.

Ford nodded. "Lead the way."

There was no more conversation then. Spencer moved down the hall on the balls of his feet, keeping his boots quiet on the carpeted floor. Janish would be in the office at the end of the hall, where he'd told the grifter to meet him to go over Lancaster's afternoon schedule.

A flutter of nerves twisted Spencer's stomach at the thought of meeting someone else who knew him, someone who had apparently mourned him. He hadn't recognized this Sophie on the security tapes, and a large part of him felt discouraged by that.

She won't mind, said the voice in his head. She'll just be happy to see you.

Happy to see him. Would she be? What about the other woman—Parker, not dead, not abandoned to burn in the building Spencer had escaped from—would she be happy to see him? He couldn't imagine she would be. Regardless of what had happened at LanCast, he'd forgotten her. She would be hurt, disappointed, and he couldn't blame her. He wouldn't blame any of them.

A murmur of voices drifted out from under the office door, and Spencer glanced over his shoulder to make sure Ford was ready.

"I'll go in first," Ford offered. "Maybe we can bluff our way out. Stay here—there's no need for you to get any more bruises if you don't need to."

Spencer drew back, deferring to Ford's lead without argument or hesitation. It felt good to be following an order, he realized—an order he trusted. He watched as Ford opened the door, pressing against the wall to stay out of Janish's sight.

"Ah," Ford said, overly loud in the small space. "Here you are, Mr. Janish! My name is Abe Wheeler, and I've just come from a meeting with Mr. Lancaster. He asked for Miss Clancy here to set up the details of our new arrangement. Miss Clancy, if you please..."

"Why, of course," said the grifter—and her voice cut through the fog in Spencer's brain, filling the gaps with the sound of her laughter, her advice, her friendship. Her accent was southern, but subtly so, and he could hear the lilt of a British cadence in its echoes.

Sophie. God, how had he forgotten Sophie?

"Come along, Miss Clancy," Ford said, but a heavier step sounded near the door, and Spencer shifted toward it reflexively.

"Nobody's going anywhere," Janish said. "My orders are to keep you here."

Ford chuckled. "Orders? Lancaster asked for Miss Clancy personally. I think that trumps any of your orders."

"He would have checked in with me," Janish said.

"Oh, I'm sure he's—"

"Back up," Janish growled. "And sit down. You're not going anywhere."

The door started to close, and Spencer kicked it open before Janish could shut him out. Sophie let out a cry of surprise, but Spencer didn't look at her—he kept his attention on Janish, who had caught himself on a table and was pushing himself upright.

"Spencer," he snarled. He had a new black eye and bruised cheek, and Miguel's words flitted back through his mind: You went into a trance or something, man. You wouldn't stop hitting Janish, and when I got close, you hit me, too. He couldn't let that happen again. He needed to stay in control.

Spencer spared a second to glance at Ford, who had his arms wrapped around Sophie. She stared at him with her hands over her mouth, her eyes full of tears.

Then Janish leaped at him, and he drove focus back to the fight.

He came at Spencer hard, aiming for his face—Spencer blocked and ducked, stepping back, and Janish drove forward to separate him from Ford and Sophie. It put Janish's back to them, and Ford was already casting about for something to use as a weapon. But that wasn't his job, it was Spencer's, and Spencer couldn't risk Janish retaliating.

He pretended to stumble, fell back, caught Janish's hook high on his arm, and swung.

Janish went down, and stayed there.

For a moment, Spencer stood where he was, afraid to look at the others, afraid to see their reaction to his violence. But then a shift of movement pulled his head up, and he had just enough time to lower his fists before Sophie was throwing herself into his arms.

"You're okay?" she sobbed, burying her face in the side of his neck. One hand came up to cup the back of his head, gently, her fingers resting on his hair while her other hand grasped a fistful of his shirt. She leaned back long enough to examine his face, her eyes running over every scrape and bruise, before she hugged him again. Soft words tumbled out of her in a rhythmic blend of questions and reassurances— "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay."

He'd lifted one hand to catch her, and he rested it on the small of her back, holding her to him as the sound of her voice settled his heartbeat.

You're okay. You're okay.

"Sophie," Nate said, reaching out and adding his hand to her back. She withdrew slightly, her palms still resting on Eliot's neck and shoulder, and turned teary eyes to him. Nate glanced at Eliot, searching for something in his expression, and said, "He doesn't remember."

Sophie frowned. "What do you mean?"

Spencer cleared his throat and dropped his hands to his sides. "Um... amnesia. Sorry."

Her eyes filled again, and she blinked at Nate before pulling Spencer in for one more hug. "I don't care what you remember," she whispered. "I'll fill you in on anything you've forgotten, and whatever I don't know, we'll make up. I'm just glad you're back."

She let him go then, and he stepped back to give her space as she wiped her eyes. "Do Parker and Hardison know?" she asked.

Nate shook his head. "We came to find you first. Parker's still looking for the safe, and Hardison's..."

He looked at Spencer, who forced himself not to look away. "He's trapped in the server room."

"Good," Nate said. "Then we don't have to waste time chasing him down. You know where it is? We'll follow you."

Spencer shot an uncertain glance at Sophie, looking for and failing to find any hints of unease in her expression. Apparently she and Nate both trusted him to take the lead on this, which meant it was time to make a tactical decision.

He cleared his throat. "I should go on my own. Lancaster has a guard scheduled to walk past his office in a little while, and as soon as they realize I'm working with you, they'll lock the building down. You two should leave while you can."

"We can't," Sophie said. "Parker's still here somewhere, right? It'd be faster to split up to find her."

Spencer shook his head. "If any of Lancaster's men find you in the halls, they'll know something's up. They don't suspect me yet. The smarter move is to get the two of you out now, and I'll go after the others."

"How long until the guards find Lancaster?" Nate asked.

"Maybe ten minutes. Maybe less."

Nate frowned, searching Spencer's face, and he tried his best to keep his expression open and honest. He couldn't afford to be distrusted now. If Nate didn't believe him…

But whatever Nate was looking for, he must have found it. He exhaled and gripped Spencer's arm.

"You have twenty minutes, and then I'm coming back in."

Spencer nodded.

Sophie gave him another hug, holding on a few moments longer than necessary. "Be careful," she whispered.

He caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You too. Stick to the stairs—there's a side exit on the first floor. I'll meet you outside."

She rewarded him with a teary smile, and then she and Nate were hurrying through the door.

Spencer swallowed, stepped over Janish's body, and made his way down the hallway to find the hacker.