"I don't think so." Lola ducked into a doctors' lounge and tossed the coat into a hamper. "Just doesn't sound like something you'd do."

Jack pulled her around the corner and pinned her shoulder blades to the wall. "You've known me five days."


Her hazel eyes widened, but not in fear. He'd wanted to scare her off. Make her think twice about associating with him. Keep her safe. From him.

The brilliancy of her eyes revealed exasperation, even a touch of humor. She tilted her head, and her dark hair brushed the back of his hand. "I know you, Jack. You saved my life in this very hospital."

Jack opened his mouth and paused. Two nurses walked past them, suspending their conversation, averting their faces. A janitor, head bowed, shuffled past with his mop. Jack closed his eyes and started when Lola's fingers touched his cheek.

"You're no traitor. You went to Afghanistan to rescue Gabe and lost your memory in the endeavor. Maybe somehow these people know that and are using the situation to set you up, discredit you with your own government."

Her hand curled into a fist and she thumped her chest. "I know it in here."

"Is this how you soothe your young patients?" He covered her small, smooth hand with his large, rough one.

Her cheeks colored and she slipped her hand from beneath his. "You don't need soothing, Jack. You're trying to push me away, and I'm not going to budge." She unfurled her fist and ticked off each finger. "We need to collect the new computer with Gabe's hard drive. I need to speak to Detective Sorrentino. You need to visit Lesley."

"Sorrento."

"Yeah, him." She shoved at his chest. "Go find Lesley. I'm going to drive over to the police station."

"Not by yourself."

"You can't talk to the cops with me."

"No, but I can make sure you get there safely."

She poked a finger into his ribs. "That's what I'm talking about. You're not a bad guy."

After Jack saw Lola down to her car and out the parking structure, he reentered the hospital and made his way to Lesley's office.

He'd called her on the way over to the hospital, and she greeted him at the doorway to her office, expecting him.

"I can take you to a more comfortable room, Jack. You can stretch out on a couch, just like at a traditional shrink's place."

When they settled in the new office, complete with a comfortable leather couch, Lesley shoved a piece of paper across the desk. "It's a waiver. Sign it."

Jack tapped the form with a pen. "Is it valid if I have no memory?"

"I'm thinking you won't sue for the same reason."

He signed the form with a flourish, his name flowing from the end of the pen as if he'd signed it a million times. He reclined on the couch as Lesley produced a syringe and a vial from a sterile plastic bag.

"Make a fist. Let's hope this works...at least enough to get you home to your family."

Jack closed his eyes. Home to his family? He hoped that family didn't include a wife, because he'd never be able to give up Lola.

The prick in his arm brought him back to his senses. Lola doesn't belong to you. She's not yours to give up...or not.

Lesley dragged a chair close to the couch, and Jack began to tell her what he'd discovered about his life, including what he'd recently learned from Diaz. He ran his thick tongue along his teeth trying to dislodge the taste of garlic that flooded his mouth.

Lesley encouraged him, asked questions until his eyelids became heavy. His voice became detached from his brain. The words he formed in his mind didn't seem make it to his lips, but Lesley continued to question him.

His parents? Dead. No siblings. He'd lived with his best friend's family his senior year in high school.

Lesley's questions came in a smooth, steady stream. He laughed. Felt light-headed. Too much tequila.

College. Scholarship to Stanford. Languages. He learned them quickly. French. German. Arabic. He tried out several phrases on Lesley.

He used them in the Army. The Army used him. Special Forces. Prospero. Buzz. Ian. Riley. The images flashed through his brain. The Colonel. Colonel Scripps. The words spilled from his lips.

Hostages. People needed his help. He couldn't give it up. Couldn't move on. Dr. Gabriel Famosa needed his help. Dr. Famosa's sister needed his help. He'd seen her. Watched her as she'd dropped off the money at the bus depot.

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