Day 6 Evening

Exhausted from her venture down the hallway and her collapse on the floor, Amelia sat up in her hospital bed, willing her headache to go away, not willing to take anything for it. She still thought about that voice, that harsh whisper, that person on the other side of the door, knowing that she was there, knowing that she was terrified. It sent chills down her spine every time she thought of it, and yet she couldn't help herself.

How did one stop thinking about something like that? Just so much was wrong with the whole idea of somebody actively taking pleasure in her terror, and yet that's what it was. He had been thrilled, absolutely thrilled with the knowledge that she had been hiding from him, without even knowing who he was. She didn't even think she'd ever heard that voice before. Yet, as a whisper, it was impossible to really know.

Sydney was still at her desk, and Magnus had already come and gone several times. Amelia knew she wouldn't be alone ever again, at least not while this was going on. However, she knew in her gut that her stalker would make an attempt and that he was somebody with enough skill and experience to pull it off. And that was what he was after. She didn't have a clue when or how that attack would come, but it would.

That was the part that terrified her the most.

She kept looking around, and every movement, every sound, made her jump, as she sat up in bed. Even now she couldn't lie down and relax because it would take an extra few seconds to get up out of the bed and get moving, should her attacker come again.

Finally having enough of it, Sydney walked over and put a hand on Amelia's shoulder. "Hey, look. Do you need something to help you to relax?"

She looked at her, firmed her bottom lip, and shook her head. "Honest to God, I would much rather go out where the dogs are now."

Sydney's eyebrows shot up. "To see your dogs?" she asked, then smiled, and clearly it came from the heart.

"I would absolutely love to see them," Amelia murmured. "Surely I'm strong enough to see them now."

"I don't know."

"And, if I can't go over to the dogs, maybe the dogs could come here?" she asked hopefully. At that, Sydney nodded and pulled out her phone. "I'll see what I can do about it. We've had an awful lot of dogs throughout the place at various times, but we haven't had yours over because I didn't want you moving about that much."

"I have four," Amelia clarified.

Sydney turned to her, startled, then nodded. "Of course. That's what you need to pull a sled, I suppose."

"Joe knows which ones are mine," she said, with a smile. "It's not as if he'll mistake them."

"Good enough," Sydney replied, then took several steps away and spoke into her phone but in a low voice, so nothing could be overheard. It was disconcerting for Amelia to think that everybody was watching her, walking around her, always trying to keep her safe, controlling everything that went on in her world. It was not how she wanted to live at all.

If she could escape right now, she would, and, for the first time, she recognized that budding sense of fear, that ever-building sense of terror, of wrongness, around this place—knowing a villain was here, a boogeyman ready to jump out. If that weren't enough, imagining that poor guard's body, knowing he had been found dead out in the cold, was enough to make her understand how adamant Teegan had been about not returning to this military base. Amelia now knew because something was very wrong and because somebody would try and kill him. Now her too.

Obviously somebody had already tried to kill Teegan, and it was a matter of Amelia's keeping him alive that had saved him. Still, even now she knew Teegan wasn't safe, but, hell, she wasn't either. She doubted any of them were. Whatever was happening, whatever was going on here, just made this killer more ambitious, more frenzied, and, in many ways, maybe more prone to make mistakes.

He was moving faster and taking chances. There was no need to threaten her, no need to make her scared and do that behind-the-door number he had done, except that he was tormenting her, taunting her, as if he didn't give a damn, as if the world was breaking apart, and he didn't want anything to do with it. How the hell was that even a thing?

She shook her head, as she stared off in the distance, her mind thinking about doors, locks, access, and the fact that so many people were here who could have access to absolutely everything. So many who dressed the same, so many of similar size, similar shape, and similar physical condition. She quickly discarded the other women because it hadn't been a woman's voice; and the people of note that she'd seen out in the wilderness hadn't been women either. Sure, some men here were smaller in stature, but certainly nobody was as small as the women here that Amelia had seen and met, and that's what made the difference.

So, no. Amelia was pretty damn sure the killer was a male.

That left what? Twenty-two or so men to choose from on base? She snorted at that, because twenty-two men who had a room in this military base had all kinds of time over the last several weeks to access and to copy keys, doing whatever they wanted at any point in time to enter the locked clinic or the locked armory. She couldn't believe it was Elijah, and yet he had the best access of all, as did the day sergeant and the colonel, yet that made the least sense.

If the colonel wanted to kill people, he could give the orders for all kinds of exercise training and arrange for it to go wrong. Under those circumstances, however, it could end up being a mass killing. Surely, if the colonel was really worried about his record, nobody would overlook a mass shooting event easily. Friendly fire was one thing, when it involved a solo victim. But to explain several deaths at once as friendly fire? She shook her head. No, she was pretty sure it wasn't anything like that.

If Sydney weren't the only doctor here on base, Amelia would have immediately suspected the doctor, like those angels of mercy who murdered people because they could or who made it look as if somebody was having a major life event, only to come and seemingly rescue them. Sometimes the rescue worked, and they looked to be a hero, and sometimes the rescue didn't work, and yet they still seemed to be a hero because they'd given it their all. However, in essence, they'd killed the very victim they had supposedly been trying to save.

Of course that brought up many more examples of that serial killer craziness and just depressed Amelia even more. But at least now she seemed more capable of shifting on the bed and stretching out cautiously, until she had her head on the pillow. She wasn't hungry, but she also needed food—fuel. She wasn't thirsty, but she knew she needed water—to avoid dehydration.

What she really needed was to get out of here and to feel better, to feel in some way as if she would get through this. That damn threatening, taunting whisper slipped through her mind again, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. How had he created words so devious, so evil sounding, preying on her fears? He preyed on what she already knew about the base, preyed on the fact that other people had died.

As far as he was concerned, she was next.

When the door to the clinic opened a little later, her gaze zinged to the person who entered, fear sliding through her, even as she desperately tried to control it. But a woof coming from the doorway had her bolting upright, only to cry out in pain, sagging back again, as she held a hand to her side.

Sydney immediately raced over to her. "Hey, hey, hey, take it easy. None of that."

"Right," she murmured, "none of that, a little bit too late."

"Yeah, you're not kidding," Sydney agreed, with a chuckle.

Amelia looked over to see Magnus walking her four dogs toward her, all wiggling in joy, while he struggled to keep them in check. Tears in her eyes, she reached out an arm and called to Bandy. Bandy immediately came over and put his two front paws up on the bed and whined at her. She cuddled him gently, his tail wagging like crazy, as she gave him the greetings and cuddles they both longed for. Bandy was very much a cuddlier, wanted that affection, and would have suffered the most from not being around her.

She called Rocket next, who came up on the other side of her bed, waited a second, and, ignoring her, jumped up on the bed and laid down, his head dropping on her chest. She cuddled him too, whispering to him softly. Then Magnus brought the other two over, and immediately Jackson took over Bandy's spot, looking for his own cuddles. By the time she had a chance to cuddle Max, the tears were flowing freely from Amelia's eyes. She looked up at Magnus and whispered, "Thank you."

He nodded. "It's not just about you. I think the dogs are a whole lot better off seeing that you're okay."

She smiled, her hands going from one snout to the other, as she bopped their noses one by one, laughing at their antics. "We've been very close," she murmured, "and it breaks my heart to even be apart from them like this."

"You're on the mend," Magnus stated, "so the good news is, they won't have to do without you for long."

She chuckled. "And yet, if you're a dog owner, you would know that any separation is too long."

"Oh, yes." He chuckled. "That I can understand. However, they have absolutely loved being out there with Joe and his dogs."

"That's good. They're all very social," she shared, "and they've met many times before."

Magnus looked over at her. "That's a surprise."

She frowned at him and asked, "Why? I may be a research scientist, but I love being outside. I probably spend more time with Mother Nature than I do with inputting the data into my laptop. So me and my dogs have seen your dogs out and about. We don't interrupt any training maneuvers, but, when you guys take breaks, I sometimes approach, especially once I figure out who the dog wrangler is in the bunch."

She smiled, still reaching out to all her dogs. "You know how it is with animals. We stop to talk to the dogs and end up meeting the humans. So we've met some people, talked to them. I've seen Joe outside often enough. Elijah too. Remember. I'm up here often, so I've run across Joe and Elijah several times over the years. I just never know if they are back here until I scout out things. Joe takes the dogs out for runs and his own training too," she added, "Honestly, I've seen all of Joe's dogs at various times during the last three months."

"Understandable."

"The dogs know each other, so this must be like a holiday for them, a chance to go visiting for a longer term," she shared, as she scratched their ears, absolutely loving being reunited, her heart overwhelmed with joy at seeing her animals looking so good. "Please give my thanks to Joe for taking such good care of them."

"Oh, he was pretty protective and wanted to confirm these guys were coming here to see you and no one else," Magnus shared, with a smile. "He said he would tag along behind me." Turning to look at the open door, he frowned. "He's supposed to be right behind me."

She laughed. "He probably stopped to say hello to Elijah," she guessed, with a smile. "Those two have been friends since forever."

Magnus turned to face her, frowning.

She nodded. "You didn't know? He, the colonel, and Elijah have been around together many times, at many training facilities and missions of all different kinds." Then she snorted. "Joe has so many stories to tell about those three. Joe's sister was Chef's wife."

Magnus slowly shook his head. "I knew some of it, but what threw me off was how the hell did you know all that?"

She looked at him in surprise. "Because I knew Joe, and our family have gotten dogs from him over the last what?… Fifteen, maybe twenty years? Many times he talked about his brother-in-law, who was a chef, so it didn't take long to put it together when I was up here this time.… Can't believe you didn't know."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "It must be in the files, but people marry, change names," he said, with a shrug. "I thought I asked Chef about Joe."

"Since Chef's wife died, Joe's sister, maybe they haven't been all that close," she suggested. "Some people find solace in sharing the memories, but others just can't deal with remembering. Then after Chef lost his son, that was another whole deal."

"Yeah. I know that the colonel tried his best to keep Chef's son alive, moving him to an easier post."

She frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

He frowned too, then replied, "According to what Elijah said, the colonel went out of his way to try and save his boy's life by transferring him to a safe area to keep him alive."

"That seems odd because I recall Joe telling me how Chef had talked to his son, and he was headed for the front lines. We had that conversation more than once. Joe's nephew was something we would always visit about."

"The front lines wouldn't be safe," Magnus said, staring at her.

She shrugged. "I don't understand either, but I don't know the details of any of this," she replied. "I did want to ask something though." She glanced over at Sydney and then lowered her voice and asked Magnus, "Is Mountain a really good guy?"

He gave her a gentle smile. "One of the best. If you're heading down that pathway, know that you'll be safe."

She winced. "Yeah? He's got a hell of a temper."

"We all do, including you," he noted, with a tilt of his head. "It's what keeps us alive sometimes. It's that great determination and anger that makes us push ahead, push past the lines where everybody else would have stopped and given up. It's how you kept Teegan alive because you were damned if you would let anybody at this base take him out."

She winced. "You guys thought about that, huh?"

"Of course," he said, with a nod. "It's also what we would do. When you're responsible for somebody, responsible for anybody like that, you do what you can, consequences be damned. Yet you still need that temper, you need that fire, because it's the drive that keeps you moving in the right direction, even when all else fails. And, when you're at your weakest point, and you're ready to give up, it's temper that motivates you."

"That is true enough."

"Yeah, it is. If you can push that temper forward," he shared, "it will keep you alive. So don't hate your temper, just understand where it's coming from and that it's often cloaking fear. You can use it to defeat the fear as well."

"I can't imagine Mountain being afraid of anything."

"You didn't see him when Teegan was missing," Magnus shared, his voice low, "because Mountain was beside himself, going out every day to search for hours. Gradually he pulled an entire team together to figure out what was happening here. The fact that we're really close right now, really close to nailing who did all this, is very important," he stated. "The last, maybe thirteen weeks, have been a combination of intensive searching and research and investigation and collaboration."

"Are you… close?"

"Yes. We all really hate the fact that another young man died before we could stop it, and we're desperate to get it stopped before any more deaths happen. So I understand you hid after you heard a man's voice behind the door."

She nodded. "Yes, and he was taunting me, teasing me. Unfortunately he got to me. If I could do anything to get out of here right now, believe me, you would not see my shadow. If I thought I could do it alone," she added, with a shake of her head, "my dogs and I would be long gone."

His gaze narrowed, as he considered that, and he nodded. "I understand why you would feel that way, but I hope you don't try to run on us because we wouldn't have any way of knowing whether you were alive or dead. Plus, after what Mountain's already been through, that would devastate him." When she looked at him in surprise, he nodded. "Don't tell me that you can't see the same attraction."

She flushed and bowed her head. "It's hardly the right situation or timing for that."

"No, and yet you saved his brother, and, for that, he will always look at you differently."

"Yeah, but I don't want him to look at me with just some sense of gratitude," she muttered in disgust. "That sounds fundamentally wrong and bound to fail."

He burst out laughing. "I've heard that a time or two, but usually from the men," he admitted, with a smile. "Can't say I've ever thought of it coming from a woman." She glared at him, and, raising his hands in peace, he added, "I'm not trying to be sexist. I know several guys who have been in that position, where they'd become a hero on some occasion and never wanted the damsel in distress to look at them with that air of gratitude because, to them, it clouded their judgment."

"Exactly," she agreed, with a careless shrug and winced at the pain in her side. "If Mountain is interested in a relationship, he better be interested in a relationship with me, not because of what went on to save Teegan."

"And how do you feel about Mountain?"

"Wary," she replied immediately, "and yet not. He was there for me for several days and nights, when I was in and out, not exactly alive, if you know what I mean. I also knew about him well ahead of time, since Teegan rattled on about him constantly," she said, with a knowing smile.

When Magnus looked at her in surprise, she nodded.

"It was Mountain this and Mountain that. At first I didn't understand and thought it was all fever-induced ramblings, until finally, through all the meanderings," she admitted, with a light chuckle, "I figured out that Mountain was a person. Once I realized it was a person, it didn't take too much more to figure out that he was a brother of the superhero variety and a very large influence in Teegan's life."

"Very much so," Magnus confirmed.

"He also mentioned something about Mason, but I didn't understand that."

Magnus chuckled. "Mason is a mutual friend, a good friend of this base," he stated. "Several of us have heard all these stories about Mason, and, as far as I'm concerned, he and Mountain are both legitimate heroes."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. "I wasn't exactly sure what I was getting myself into, both when I brought Teegan here or when I came in myself. Yet I didn't have any choice. At some point in time you have to accept help, even if you're afraid it's the wrong thing."

"Sometimes it is, but, in this case,… you made the right choice. Please promise me that you won't run and leave us wondering what happened to you. That would be the worst thing you could do. It's also quite possible that your scary visitor said what he did in order to spook you into running. Did you consider that?"

Startled, she shook her head. "I can't say that I did."

"It's quite possible," he noted, "and that would be another thing to watch out for because, if you do run, he could be right out there, waiting for you."

She winced and then nodded. "That's not a possibility I want to consider either. I could keep the dogs here with me though." She looked up at him hopefully, her gaze going over to Sydney, then back to Magnus. He frowned at her thoughtfully, and she realized he was considering it. She beamed. "Nobody'll get to me if I've got them by my side," she pointed out excitedly. "Having them in here will stop anybody from coming at me."

"Or will get them shot."

The smile immediately dropped from her face, and her heart sank. "Oh, God,… you're right.… Better to take them back. They'll have a good life with Joe, even if I don't make it through this."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sydney interjected, coming over to her immediately. "None of that talk." She glared at Magnus, then back at Amelia. "We won't tolerate any of that talk. Pick two dogs, not all four."

She looked at her and asked, "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Pick the ones most likely to protect you and not to lick an intruder to bits."

"It depends," Amelia muttered, "but you're right." Then she quickly chose Jackson and Bandy. She gave the other two big cuddles, saying goodbye.

Magnus walked them to the door, leaving the other two with her. The two dogs went with him willingly, as he reached a hand down to cuddle them. When they stepped out of the clinic, several people in the hallway wanted to say hi to the dogs. She watched them in the doorway, as several people cuddled the dogs, but she kept these two very close to her bed. Several people looked into the medical clinic, saw the other dogs, and she called out, "Please don't approach. They aren't friendly."

They stopped dead in their tracks. One nodded and replied, "I guess that's a good warning, but I'm surprised, considering he's in here."

She smiled but didn't say anything.

As soon as he left, Sydney looked over at her intently. "Are they dangerous?"

"No, not at all. I just don't want anybody coming in here making friends with these two, not if the whole point of this is to keep me safe," she explained, looking at Sydney with a wry look. "Not that I don't trust people, but…"

Sydney gave her a hard look. "Don't trust anybody here," she declared. "Honest to God, until we know what's going on, let's keep the dogs separated, and let's make sure that people don't come in here. We were trying to keep your condition a secret, but the fact that you were up and around and moving has caused a certain amount of renewed interest." She stood with her hands on her hips regarding her. "Good thing I took the catheter out beforehand. You could have hurt yourself even more."

"Of course, but obviously I'm still not quite capable of heading out and running, although if it came to a choice between that and something else," she muttered, "believe me. I would be long gone."

"Got it." Sydney nodded, then walked to a small cubicle and pulled out Amelia's clothes. "Having said that, I do think that Magnus had a point about somebody hoping you'll try to jackrabbit out of here. Here's what we have of your clothes. They are washed and salvageable. I didn't have to cut anything off because they were so loose on you."

"Yeah, I'd lost a fair bit of weight, so pretty much everything I had was getting baggy," she replied, with a wry look. "I am quite grateful to have clothes." She got up and slowly walked several steps around the room. "Even after falling and my short trip down the hall, I feel stronger. Just something about being on your own is so uplifting."

Sydney gave her a commiserating smile. "Absolutely," she agreed, with a laugh. "Teegan mentioned the same thing not that long ago."

She looked down at her clothes and once again settled on her bed, her clothing nearby. When a ruckus came at the door, the dogs immediately stood at attention, and Bandy barked. Amelia placed a hand on their collars, as the door opened, and Joe stepped in. Then immediately the two dogs surged toward him.

He smiled, looked over at her, and nodded. "I guess this is where the missing two dogs are. How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you," she replied, with a nod and a beaming smile. "Thank you so much for looking after my dogs."

He nodded and didn't seem to be too bothered, as he was on his knees, hugging both of the dogs. "They're mighty fine animals," he declared, looking at her, "and you've done a good job with them."

"Even when we were a little short on supplies," she admitted, with an eye roll.

He chuckled. "They aren't suffering, and they've been tanking up pretty well now, while they've been here." He eyed her critically and added, "Looks as if your dogs are doing a better job at that than you are."

"I am starting to get a decent appetite," she shared, "but I lost a lot of weight this last month."

He nodded. "That's what living out in the north tundra will do to you. You need to put on that blubber, not lose it."

"Not a whole lot of blubber on me to begin with," she noted, with a smirk.

He smiled, then turned around to look at the place. "Are you keeping the dogs in here?" he asked in some confusion, then asked Sydney, "Is that wise, considering it's a medical clinic?"

"Just for the night," Sydney noted.

He hesitated and then nodded. "That's fine then," he said, as he stepped out. "I'll make sure the other two are taken care of." He looked around intently. "Where are they, anyway?"

"Magnus took them back to the dog barn," Amelia replied. "And I really do appreciate all the care you're giving them." He held up a hand and waved, then quickly stepped out the door. As soon as he was gone, Amelia was filled with a sense of disquiet and turned to Sydney. "You do realize that, if the dogs have already made friends with somebody from the base, I'm the furthest thing from being safe with them here."

Sydney nodded, a shadow crossing her face. "Are you talking about Joe, or are you talking about any of the million people who have been through his quarters and all the care that they've given to the dogs? So much so that any of the dogs know all the men and your dogs now too."

"That's the trouble," she agreed, with a shrug. "If anybody wanted to make friends with the dogs, particularly so they could get close to me, we gave them the means to do so. And not only did we give them the means to do so, they also have the means to get close to me. These dogs not only won't stop them, they'll probably welcome them. I kept the two most defensive guarders of the four, but, seeing their reaction to Joe right now, it won't make a damn bit of difference if they're here or not."

And, with that, she got up and determinedly started dressing.

Sydney walked over and asked, "What are you planning?"

She shook her head and said in a confused tone, "I don't know, but I can't stay here."

"Why? Why now?"

"Here in this clinic, I'm a sitting duck. I'm on the pond, and they're on the shore, but this pond is pretty damn shallow. Even without a weapon they can reach me," Amelia explained. "I need a place to hide, and I need to go there fast."

Sydney nodded. "Let me help you." She quickly reached for her clothing and helped her get them on. Then she called Magnus to send someone to return Bandy and Jackson back to the dog barn.

*

Mountain opened thedoor to Elijah's cell for Samson. "You need to hear this." He tried hard to keep the urgency out of his voice, but, damn it, this was what they'd been waiting for, and they needed action right now. He shut the door, as he looked back at Elijah. "Is Amelia in any danger?"

Chef shrugged. "I don't know anymore," he admitted miserably. "Ever since we came up here, things have gone crazy."

Mountain turned to Samson, eyeing him. "I'm surprised to see you down here."

"Are you, though?" Samson asked, with half a smile. "When the shit hits the fan, usually those of us who are used to dealing with shit get called in to help."

Elijah nodded slowly. "I really did try."

"I'm sure you did," Samson replied, as he sat down. He looked over at Mountain, who even now found it hard to control his pacing. "What's the matter with you?"

"Amelia. I get the feeling something is wrong."

He looked at him and then shrugged. "So, what the hell are you doing here then? Elijah can talk to me without you here. You already have the information, but I don't. So, as long as it's safe, get yourself out of here."

And, with that, Mountain nodded. He turned and looked at Elijah, who just waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, go on. Don't let that girl die. She's good people."

"She is good people," Mountain confirmed, as he bolted from the room. He raced to the medical clinic. He noted Magnus taking two dogs down the hallway, and the clinic door was open. Sydney stood in the hallway, watching Magnus leave, while rubbing her arms. Seeing her there, Mountain calmed down immediately. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied, then took a deep breath. "She didn't feel safe. She wanted to leave."

"Oh no, no, no," he cried out, but then immediately lowered his voice, as he had attracted attention from others in the hallway. "Where did she go?" he asked urgently, pulling the doc back inside the clinic and shutting the door behind them.

She quickly explained the conversation they'd had about the dogs and the fact that Amelia felt like a sitting duck in the clinic. "She told me that she'll find a place to hide in the compound, and, if that didn't work, she was leaving."

"How the hell will she hide here?"

She gave him half a smile. "I asked her that, and she shook her head and told me that it was better if I didn't know. As she left, she told me, Mountain will know." He frowned at her, but Sydney added, "I'm really hoping that's true."

He shook his head, but his mind raced through various possibilities. "What condition is she in to handle the cold?" he whispered, not wanting others to hear.

"Not good enough," she stated bluntly. "Not unless it was an absolute life-and-death emergency and the only other choice."

"Did she really think it was that bad?"

"I think we should trust her instincts, so I helped her get dressed. It was clear she would do it anyway," she shared, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Magnus was worried about this earlier and had warned her that the killer's taunts to scare her could well have been intended to spook her into running. She understood that intellectually, but she didn't feel safe in the clinic. At that point, I knew I couldn't keep her here without an altercation, so I told her that she needed to find a place inside the base, where she felt safe. She agreed but noted there weren't many places like that. Still, she thought she might know of one."

"How?" he asked. "She's been unconscious in the clinic most of her time here and only just recently walked down the hallway." He shook his head, growing more frustrated. He didn't have a clue what space could even possibly be considered safe in the base right now. "Anybody else come by?" he asked hesitantly.

She shook her head. "There's been a steady activity of people in the hall today. There were several when Magnus came through with the dogs, then again as Joe came to see about the two missing dogs. Later, when we opened the door to let Amelia out, a couple glanced our way and kept on walking. She waited until it was completely clear before she left."

"Which direction?"

She gave him a ghost of a smile and pointed. He was gone instantly and now he wished he had a dog to track Amelia. She seemed to think he would know wherever the hell she had gone to hide, and that blew him away, since he didn't know her that well. Yet part of him realized that he absolutely did. He knew what she was like. He knew how well she had protected his brother and had looked after herself, so where the hell would she go?

Then he had a flash and stopped, shook his head, and pondered this thought, as he slowly changed course. As he approached his own quarters, he hesitated, then, without warning, stepped inside and closed the door quickly behind him.

There she was, curled up in his bed, sound asleep.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered.

She blinked her eyes open. "I'm not sleeping, honest."

"Yeah, you were," he countered, with a smile on his face and tenderness in his heart. "After that much exertion?… Getting dressed and leaving the clinic exhausted you," he muttered, as he sat down, his hand immediately going to her forehead, checking for a fever.

She smiled, her whole face wrinkling up in delight at his action. "I only came from the clinic," she stated, "just a few feet away."

"I know, and you're already beat. What the hell made you think you would be safe here?"

"Of all the places somebody would choose to make trouble," she explained, "I figured this would be at the bottom of the list."

"How the hell did you know it was my place anyway?" he asked. The relief he felt when he realized she was okay was immense. That she'd chosen to come to his place warmed his heart, but still he wanted to rail at her for being so stupid.

Yet he knew what it was like, when you felt that instinct to bolt. When something was going so wrong in your world, and it seemed you had absolutely no choice, sometimes that need to run was overwhelming, and you could do nothing but give in to it. He settled down, unable to help himself, as he gathered her up gently and pulled her into his arms.

She didn't argue. Instead she curled up and rested.

"Even getting dressed must have hurt like hell."

"It was better than I thought," she replied, against his chest, "but Sydney was a help."

"Of course she was, and she's also pretty worried. Worried sick actually. Especially when she didn't seem to know where you were going."

Amelia smiled. "I knew you would figure it out."

"I almost didn't," he admitted.

"Yeah, but you did, so almost didn't doesn't work for me."

As that was something Mountain's own father would have said, and his grandfather too, over the years, Mountain held her close.

"It was the voice," she added, "that taunting voice. That's the thing that got me."

"Yeah, and I have a pretty good idea whose taunting voice that is," he shared. "You just may not have heard it used in that way."

"I'm torn between two possibilities."

"I wasn't even thinking we had two. I was pretty sure it would be the one." When she told him her guess of the two names, he nodded.

"I'm surprised at the one,… but, ever since you mentioned Joe and what he went through and his family connection to Elijah, that makes sense in a way," Mountain noted.

"You really think it could be anybody else?"

"I'm pretty sure it is somebody else," he murmured. "The problem has been trying to prove it. In a case like this, you can't accuse somebody of these types of crimes and expect to walk away from it or have anybody believe you. So it's absolutely imperative that we get the proof so we can put a stop to it."

"You don't think you can do anything to put a stop to it yourself?" she asked bluntly.

"Oh, absolutely," he replied, his tone equally blunt. "A bullet would do it." When she winced, he nodded. "As much as I've been tempted to drop this asshole, I still have doubts, and therefore…" Then his voice fell away.

"And therefore," she added, "you can't shoot him because it's the wrong thing to do."

He smiled and gently kissed her forehead. "As much as I'm glad that you knew where to come to be safe, I still wish you were back in the clinic, so I would know you are safe in a medical sense."

She snorted at that. "No, you don't wish I was back there. You're happy I'm here." She got another squeeze for that, as he admitted she was right.

"Maybe, but the timing could be better."

"I don't think timing has anything to do with it," she muttered. "I don't trust easily, and neither do you."

"No, I sure don't," he admitted, with a sigh. "Yet you earned my trust, by keeping my brother alive."

She tilted her head back, looked up at him, and smiled. "And I didn't even know I was being tested," she teased.

"You weren't.… You were absolutely not being tested in any way," he replied, "but still, that's the good news because you came through with flying colors regardless."

"How would you feel about…"

He looked down at her and immediately shook his head.

She glared at him. "You don't know me well enough to know what I'm thinking," she snapped.

"And, if you didn't think I knew you that well," he argued, tapping her nose gently, "you… wouldn't… have… come… here. And, no, I won't use you as bait."

Her shoulders sagged against him, and he cuddled her close. He didn't know what the hell was happening, but it was obvious to both of them that something was here, something precious, something he did not want to take any chances with.

"We have to do something," she muttered in exasperation.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean it has to be using you as bait."

"So, use somebody else then," she suggested immediately. "Somebody my height, somebody capable of looking like me." She pulled back to look at him, and his lips twitched. "I can't keep living in fear. Either I give him an opportunity to take me out or I ensure that I'm a long way away. I'm not even sure why I'm a target to begin with."

"Because whoever was lining up for a shot that day is somebody you saw."

"Right, I remember that," she murmured. "Yet I didn't think I saw him-saw him."

"You did presumably, or he thinks you did. Or…" Mountain hesitated. "Or he's just an asshole, and you're on his list, and, for whatever reason, you made that list, and now he's bound and determined to put a checkmark by your name going forward." She shook her head at the thought, but he nodded. "You know I'm right." At that, she glared at him, and he chuckled. "See? There are two sides to this reading your mind thing."

"Yeah, I'm seeing that," she muttered. "Doesn't mean I like it though."

"Of course not. There's an openness, a naked vulnerability in knowing that you can know my thoughts and understand who I am and what I'm saying, without saying it," he shared. "Can't say it's particularly comfortable on my end either, but it doesn't change the fact that we're both here in this situation, whether we like it or not."

"We can always walk away," she suggested.

"We could," he noted, "but I won't, and neither will you."

Her lips twitched. "I'm not even sure what this is," she admitted, with an eye roll.

"No, and that's why we have to figure out the rest of this mess, to then focus on us," he shared, with more cheerfulness than he felt. As he pondered her idea further, he nodded. "I think you're right. Somehow though, it has to look like it's you, and it has to appear that you're sneaking out because this asshole will know quite well who is involved with you."

"Because he's always there, watching, like Joe."

"And yet I'm pretty sure it isn't Joe," he admitted.

She winced. "I would hate to think that anybody who loves dogs the way I do would be capable of this."

"The thing is,… this mess isn't about dogs, although two were injured when someone shot at Magnus early on. The thing is, while Joe does love dogs, a part of him… absolutely despises people."

"Yeah, I know," she said, "but we already think we know who the real killer is. We know who we're being pointed at, but that doesn't mean it's the same thing as finding the right man." She sighed, resting against Mountain.

He nodded. She was too tired; he could tell that from the way she was acting. "I sure as hell wish you were a long way from here."

"Me too," she murmured. "I wish I hadn't come in the first place."

"Not me. I won't go that far," he replied, with a gentle smile, as he cuddled her close. "I've been looking for you practically since I got here." When she twisted and looked up at him, he nodded. "You know I was. I just didn't know why. Obviously I was trying to get answers and to find my brother, but there's so much more to it than that."

"Instincts," she suggested, "finding that part of you, finding that piece of your soul that's been missing and that you didn't even know about." And then she laughed. "It sounds like so much garbage."

"That's because both of us have been hurt, and, in some ways, we've isolated ourselves," he admitted. "I wasn't even sure if you would see the attraction between us."

"Seeing is one thing," she noted, with a smile, "but doing something about it? Now that's a completely different issue."

He burst out laughing. "But you already made that choice, and that's why you're here."

She shrugged. "Maybe. I also figured that nobody in their right mind would cross you." His laughter boomed, and she held a finger up against his lips. "Is it safe?" she asked in a low tone. "Or will somebody assume that I'm here?"

"I don't know whether they will or not," he said, squeezing her as much as he could without hurting her, "because, right about now, everything will blow wide open."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean we're up to that point."

Just then came a distinctive knock on the door. He called out, "Come in."

Samson stepped inside.

Mountain eyed him and nodded. "I can see you had the same reaction I did to what Elijah had to say."

"It's… I don't want to say farfetched, but it's damn frustrating."

"Yeah, I know, and is Chef stringing us a line, telling us a story, still protecting a friend—or his son?"

"That's the thing,… or his son."

She looked from one to the other. "Whoa, wait, but he said,… didn't someone say Chef's son was dead?"

Mountain looked down at her. "His son isn't dead after all, as far as we know, or so we've been told. His son is alive and still in the military but under a completely different name. In order to keep the son safe, he changed his name and took on somebody else's name," Mountain explained. "And the results of that was that we have somebody buried under a wrong name, being impersonated by somebody else."

"But who the hell is it?" she asked, looking at him in surprise. Her gaze went from one man to the other.

"What do you think?" Mountain asked Samson.

Samson shook his head. "I think it could be either one, except there's another horrible possibility in the back of my head too."

"That they're all in on it?"

"And yet that doesn't make sense either," Samson admitted. "And I can't imagine how—in any way, shape, or form—that would make sense to Elijah."

"And yet how does any of this make sense to anybody?" Mountain asked Samson. When another knock came on his door again, Mountain groaned. "Since when did my room become Grand Central Station?"

"Since you decided to hide in here,… with our damsel in distress," Samson pointed out, with half a smile in Amelia's direction.

Amelia looked at him, surprised, and then nodded. "I guess that makes sense, but maybe I should have stayed in the clinic."

"Then why didn't you?" Samson looked at her intently.

She hesitated, then replied, "If I said instincts, would that make sense to you?"

He shrugged. "As much as anything here does. Yes."

"It could also have been overwhelming fear," she admitted. "The killer's comments were meant to send me off, but I didn't want it to be permanent."

Samson went to the door and walked back into the room again with Magnus, as the two of them looked at Mountain and frowned. Mountain nodded. "I understand. We need a meeting, but Amelia has an idea that I'm fighting against. The trouble is, it has merit."

"Setting her up as bait?" Samson asked immediately.

She looked over at him from the comfort of Mountain's arms and nodded. "It's not a bad idea, is it?"

"I won't say it's the right idea," he replied. "Nobody wants to see you get hurt again, and you're taking a hell of a chance."

"Sure, we all are," she admitted. "So am I, but I'm in danger already. I still don't understand why I would be a target, but I do understand that I am one. I'll worry about the why after we're all safe."

Samson gave her a nod of approval. "That's a good way to look at it, but let's not take any chances right now."

"But… you want to tell them?" Mountain asked her.

Amelia nodded. "My thought was that somebody could pretend to be me, and you guys could use them as the bait."

Samson immediately nodded again. "Barret has already volunteered."

She looked at him in surprise, contemplated it, and asked, "He's not my body type, is he?"

"He is not. He's a bit on the bigger side, but the height is more or less the same. From a distance, nobody will really know, and, if we give him some of your clothing, we'll have a better chance at pulling this off. We already tested it out, and he can fit into your parka."

She looked at him in surprise and then nodded. "Honestly, that's probably all that would be required."

"We would hope so, but there's no guarantee," he said cautiously. "However, taking this directly to you, the way the killer did, he's almost issued a challenge, so I suggest we meet it and break it."