(Don't worry- I'm still in.)

He grabbed the clothes, exhaling deeply as he quickly pulled the robe off, putting on a vest and a pair of jogging bottoms, looking like he'd literally just walked out of the gym. He felt a little foreign to all of this, especially these clothes, but that was his circumstance. Right now, he had no option. Alexis had saved him, and all he knew, was that this wasn't good. He stepped out of the car, looking in the mirror of the car window. Shit, he looked like age had brought time with him. Four years. Four years.
"Four Years? Shit..." He said to himself, moving his hands and toes, looking at some of the blood on his robe.
"I can't remember it, last thing I know is a really, really sharp pain in the top of my back, the most excruciating thing I've ever felt. I'm amazed I'm not in a wheelchair, it felt like everything had been cut off." He said, smiling, wiping his forehead and wiping his hands down. He felt like he was only just rediscovering he was alive, occupant of Scott Harris's body in it's full. He had wasted away, but still possessed a remarkable physical stature, seemingly well.
"It's like I could tell you about it, but then I can't bring up the memory...it's just empty. Shit, I don't know what happened even before that, I just remember Lieutenant McKinley...was that his name? I don't know any of it. We need to keep going Alexis, somewhere safe. Your place even, but only for a short while, or whoever's looking for me will follow the breadcrumbs." Scott said, shaking his head, confused and hurting in trying to remember.
"I had a brother, younger, called Mark. I can vaguely paint the picture of where he lives. But shit, I can't remember. My memory's all over the place. Maybe Boston, I can't tell." He added, looking to her, as he got back into the car, putting his head back, his hands in his face with a certain disappointment and passive anger to himself.
"I said something about Basra, I can't remember what happened. Was I stationed there? I remember Basic Training..it's in Iraq, that's all I know...shit...Hunter, was that him? I can make his face out. I don't know." He said very confused, sitting back, looking around, the occasional siren of police.
"They're circling...they're looking. We can't go to them. There's bad blood, I can't remember, but all I know is, that it's something horrible I saw. The local police won't give me any slack, they'll take it higher...shit, we need to go, Alexis." He said, looking to her, almost paranoid and a little bit tense, strange for man like him. But he was vulnrable, and the crash from the high was coming in. He needed to think, just assemble his shattered head, piece everything together.

----

The phone rang, as the Arabic-sounding man stood two blocks from the hospital, at a Pay Phone.
"It's Hamid, Heron." Hamid said, as the voice on the other end responded. It was an American, deep and Southern in tone.
"What happened? You get the job done?" 
"No...the Operator got up, and took out three of our men, I don't know how. Abbas is alive, but the Police have him. The Operator left with someone I think, they're out of the area." 
"Well, damn. Fate is cruel. Okay, this man, you are going to do everything you can to find him. I'll organize for Abbas to be treated and released as soon as possible. This man needs to be either eliminated or taken to us to be dealt with. You achieved neither. I'm assuming you can do better than your friends. Do not fuck this up; you are going to be given further intel that we have of the situation, before we send you to deal with him. This Operator is a loose end, and we don't like loose ends, Hamid. You'll become one if you fuck it up again. Goodbye."