Sometime in Autumn 2010
Portland, Maine

The man on the bed was being slowly moved through, an IV hooked up alongside an oxygen tank, as the medics moved him through, not in a rush but fairly quickly. It was a cloudy morning, in the quiet and small hospital, in the care unit. It seemed clean, with individual rooms, though they were tiny and cramped.
"Sgt Harris is being transferred into here, Doctor. His condition has been mailed through. The patient has been stabilized, he's got something in his grey matter but it isn't responding to our signals." One of the men said, as they pushed him into the windowed room, a view over the Atlantic ocean in the small but compact room.
"A case like this with severe head trauma, it could be weeks, months or years till we see something come from him. From now on, since we deem him non-critical, he is in your care, Doctor." The medic added, looking across to the Doctor.
"I understand. We'll do our best." He simply replied, as Scott looked, unable to do anything. He was a ghost in the machine. He blinked, his eyes receptive but unable to do anything. His body was killed off. He had lost his responses, he was essentially a ghost in the machine.

---

Four Years Later
5th December, 2014

The hospital hadn't changed much. Scott had blinked and ended up here. He didn't understand it. From the window, the trees lost their leaves, then gained them, then snow, then spring, light, a bright sun, then back to leaves falling again and rain. That cycle went again, He had been cared for, he didn't remember what happened. He had been cleaned, fed, made sure that he had a good standard of living. And right now, he was a vegtable. He couldn't comprehsibly think, and he could only remember blurs of the lady that cared for him. Alexis. She was like an angel, coming in and looking after him, no matter what. She looked tired some days, others she wore a smile on her face and while Scott's memory was shattered, his thought process dead, he could somehow just remember her. Alexis. That blonde nurse. And yet the memory of what he had gone through was gone. He didn't know who he was, let alone what he had done to get this. He was out for the count, but he saw. Like he was just passed away, but viewing the world through his body's lenses.

Until that was, the 5th of December, at about 0600 hours. He had undergone treatment again and again, to try and restore his mental capacity. He could hear and see doctors, talking about how long he'd been here. About how much better he would be if he was quietly taken off the life support, off what kept him alive. He had no wounds. His mind was just in pieces, just all over the place. A sudden movement filled him. Like something entered him. He gulped. Every movement hurt, nothing was familiar. He tried to blink, hold his eyes shut, consciously. She wasn't here, not at the moment. What was he? What the fuck was he doing here? He didn't know, not one bit of any of it.
"Basra....Basra....." He muttered, just unknowingly. Was he really in control? What was this? Basra? Where was that? His body began to have a sensation, like everything was coming into view, like his brain had began turning. Moving muscles didn't make sense, his body couldn't send signals. He was still immobilized, and something was at least there, as his brain began to understand where he was, and what he was in.

---

Summer 2010
Basra, Iraq

The Humvee pulled into the compound, the four men aboard confident and well dressed. This was 1st SFOD-D, Delta Force to be exact. Scott checked his HK416, cocking the rifle as the Squad Lead, Captain Marcus Powell, looked over. To his left in the back, was Corporal Hunter Woods, and in the front passenger seat, was Second Lieutenant Paul McKinley, though his surname had nothing to do with the US President of past who had been assassinated. Lastly, Private Ian Waller sat on the M240, mounted within the vehicle. His best friend, Hunter, held a Mk46 MOD 0, and Cpt Powell had a M4 SOPMOD to hand, with McKinley having a Mk14 MOD 1 DMR, Pvt Waller having a SCAR-L with an EGLM module attached.
"We're here. Our guy too." He simply said, as he opened up the door, Hunter chuckling.
"Another informant we want to talk to, after all these years. Classic." Hunter added, as they entered the derelict house, leaving the Humvee with the M240 turret behind, locked of course. The derelict hotel's back entrance was easy to get in, as they headed up a back flight of stairs, wepaons ready. Scott's HK416 had a Aimpoint CompM4 and a vertical Surefire M900 flashlight/foregrip, with a flash suppressor, not a silencer on the gun. He wore a regular Multicam set of BDUs, with an Ops Core helmet on his head, and a pair of Oakley Ballistic Goggles, souped up by the Mechanix gloves that he wore. They moved in, walking up, and then moving slowly, searching each corner, as they headed into the next room. Rasheed was here, sitting on a table, a guard with him who held an AKS-74U in his hands. Powell looked over, nodding, speaking in Arabic.
"Mr Rasheed, I am Captain Marcus Powell, US Army Special Forces. We came here because you said you had something you know of the activity against the oil refineries south of the city. Looking at the terms of your meeting, and what you want, we agree to these terms you have set. What you want we are currently in the process of doing, as we believe you are able to assist us on this matter at hand." He said, as the bearded man, some sort of former Cleric of sorts, sat up. He was a shady character- all that Scott knew was, that he willing to share important information, and that was that.
"I do agree, Captain. Take a seat. Keep your men watching, I am paranoid they could have followed you, you understand. I am worried they will kill us all, if they catch you here with me." He replied in Arabic, as Scott nodded, clear on what he said, moving through the derelict room to the window, where Hunter followed, looking out.
"My men have it covered. So we want to know what you know, if that is understandable, Mr Rasheed." The Captain said, as Rasheed sat up, coughing a little before he spoke, forming the words.
"Very well."

Alexis had been asleep when her phone went off waking up both her and her boyfriend she picked up the phone to see who it was. Her friend who worked the morning shift had been calling frantically and this was the 3rd time then she saw her clock she all but fucking flipped, picking up the phone she answered and put it on speaker. "I know, I know I'm late." She said aloud, her boyfriend shooting her the look as her voice kept him awake "Yeah well I'm covering for you right now don't worry but your coma patient is talking. Nothing big but it's something."

"That's good, I'll be right down." She said and hung up, she quickly threw on some plain clothes and some scrubs to cover them up "Pick up beer on your way home." Her boyfriend said "Okay sweetie." Was all she said before she rushed into the cool December morning, she shivered as she fumbled with her keys to her 94 Honda Civic unlocking the door she hopped inside, started the car, and turned the heat up to full blast. The car was warm by the time she hit the road. She was late but since her friend was covering for her she stopped at the Starbucks nearby and bought a doughnut and a white chocolate mocha, those two things where every woman's weakness but for Alexis this was doubly true it was her morning ritual and her morning addiction all rolled into one.

Pulling into a parking spot at the Joshua Chamberlain veterans hospital with a cup of coffee in one hand wasn't easy but Alexis did this every day and managed to pull it off like a pro be the conditions icy, slick, or normal. Turning off her car she all but ran into the hospital both to escape the cold and to check on her patient. Walking through the hallways she bumped into another of her patients Chuck Legrouge. A infantryman who lost his leg to an IED, he was testing his new leg and at the sight of Alexis he got a big grin on his face "Alexis!" He said "I really appreciate you tracking me down one of these." He showed her his new prosthetic leg "It's my job, hows it fitting?" She asked "Great, it's not quite my old leg, but it works and fits like a dream." She just nodded and smiled as she went into Scott's room.

He had been a vegetable and hadn't said or done anything in four years and today he was speaking that was progress. Her friend sat at his bedside "He hasn't said anything else, but he did say Basara before going silent. Whatever that is, look i don't see the point in keeping him alive anymore it's been four years and he hasn't done a thing until now. I'll admit that him saying something is progress but it's nonsense. But ultimately your the one who's been caring for him and it's your call." Her friend said some of those words cut deep and she understood wanting to take him off life support, she had nearly given up on him ton's of times before but something told her not to every time she thought about it, but she doubted if she told anyone she was working off pure intuition that they would side with her. "I know how you feel, but if he's saying something that's progress." She said, her friend just sighed and walked out of the room leaving her alone in the room."I heard you said something today." She said hovering over Scott's beside "Can you say something again?" She asked looking for an answer.

Scott looked up, smiling, looking to Alexis, as he tried to think, connecting the words.
"Alexis...Alexis. Where am I?" He said, quietly, barely able to get his words through, as his mind felt like it was coming together a bit. He had to worry, but his body felt different. His grey matter was actually beginning to connect, and while it had been for weeks and months, through his treatment, it was if only now, it had really began to spring into a real step. He felt the oxygen tube around his nose, and the slight of his legs and arms exist, as he shook violently and in an uncotrolled manner, not controlling his muscle's movements. He blinked, looking. Memory wasn't there, he just knew her, but what was Basra? A place? He felt as if he was somehow just blinded, not understanding of what was going on, looking at the other nurse that had noticed him say it.
"I'm still here...I just feel really confused...I can feel things slowly coming back, there's a real pain in my arms and legs." Scott added, just feeling his whole mind was a blur, as he slowly sat up, the feeling returning to his fingers and hands, as well as parts of his legs, but not his feet, not yet. But things felt like they were restoring, like everything was coming out of the blur, and he was somehow recovering. Perhaps it was just the time it took for his mind to reassemble all the pieces, and now, it had clicked, and rather than muttering or reflexes, he was in conscious thought.
"It's like everything is really hazy..." He almost felt like he could speak a little louder, coughing a little as he smiled, looking up at Alexis.
"I can't remember much..I can't remember anything at all. I just remember this really sharp pain, and poof." Scott added, just looking to her for answers, wondering what she'd say. He knew his name...it was Scott, Scott Harris. And he was some sort of soldier, that came back too, but he didn't know what exactly. Did he have family? Or what was he? What role? He had no idea that the whole of the time he had been out, the operation had been one kept under the rug. He was a relic, of something that didn't happen, on paper that was. All the hospital knew, was that he was from a US operation and in need of post-traumatic care, namely, in his state of a coma. The Army had relinquished it's hold over his injury- he was now a veteran hospital's worry, and they were responsible for the rest of his treatment, while paid for by the US Army itself.

---

The van pulled up, the noise of men in the back cocking rifles being heard. They wore balaclavas, as one at the back cocked the AKM, looking to the others.
"This man we find, and take." He simply said, his accent a deeply Arabic one, as he opened the back door, and putting away the picture of the American soldier. They emerged, wearing various white shirts and gloves, all balaclava'd as they moved in. They simply jogged through the Hospital lobby, already weapons raised, the four men moving with a certain pacing that seemed to suggest that they meant business.
"DOWN ON THE GROUND!" He yelled, as he pulled the trigger, emptying a pair of rounds into the roof. A security guard reached for his sidearm, but the leader's accomplice shot him with a pair of rounds to the chest, as the rest kept eyes on the crowd, and another frightened nurse came over to his body. The accomplice shot again, one round, and it sent her on the ground in fear. Walking up, the leader pointed at the receptionist.
"Do you know where Scott Harris is being held? You have thirty seconds, or we kill three people in this lobby for every ten seconds you run over. You understand, woman!?" He yelled, his loud Arabic accent scaring the whole room, as she barely searched up, almost crying, not wanting to let people die.
"DO IT!" He yelled, spitting through the mouth hole, raising it right to her temple, the woman now in tears as she could barely act, almost totally frozen yet somehow knowing full well it was going to make people die. These people had done it already- and surely, one patient compared to a whole lobby would be a brazen act. This wasn't a bank, it was a veteran's hospital. And even the security guard, who was there simply for appearances to deal with external threats such as aggressive visitors or other smaller security concerns, had failed in dealing with this. The police could well be on their way, but they had minutes of time, not seconds, to get what they wanted done. To find Scott Harris, and to bring him. It had taken years to find him, to this very hospital. And while he was no liability, he needed to be brought as proof to their employer, to be dealt with appropriately. This was a man who had been part of the operation that meant a lot to his employer, and he had very powerful connections.

Alexis looked down at the soldier who was looking to her for answers, she didn't know what to say to him about how he got there but she told him where he was. "Your in the Chamberlain veterans hospital you were transferred here after the army couldn't take care of you. You've been out for, four years Scott. Now i need you to do something for me. Some coma patients have troubles with movement waking up so could you move your toes and fingers for me?" She asked him a slight smile on her face glad that at least he was awake

---

The Lobby was quiet and everyone looked to the Nurse Practitioner for answers, she became a hero at that moment she picked up the phone dialed the hospital speaker system and shouted "Red Alert all rooms go into lock down. Repeat red alert." Everyone heard as the gunmen gunned her down for trying to be a hero.

---

Alexis was on the move almost immediately she closed the door and locked it. She had been in red alert drills and had a few where a patient who was suffering from extreme psychosis had taken a needle or a gun and used it to take people hostage but those were extreme cases. She wondered what was going on. "I'm sorry Scott you'll have to deal with me for now." She joked letting out a slight giggle.

Scott tried, feeling a slight wriggle. It was alien, but he was getting the hang of moving, as he then managed to get into it, and get fully articulated, as if he'd established something. First, his fingers, as he moved them slightly, then moving them and clenching them, as he sat up in the bed, moving on his rear. He rubbed his eyes, then moving his feet, and his toes, which had something left in them. It was like someone plugged in the nerve for the first time.
"Jesus Christ. Four years?" He asked to himself, and almost to Alexis, as suddenly, the blare quickly through him.
"Oh shit." He simply said, not knowing why or what he was thinking it to. He couldn't connect what was going on. But he had said it. The drill put the fear of God into him, as he looked over, then gulping, not knowing wholly why this had to happen. What was going on? Was this regular? Of course it wasn't. For a first time, his brain had activated in some sort of meaningful analysis that wasn't visible. He had been in a coma for years, and someone was coming for him now, from the moment he awoke. This couldn't be good.
"I can move, it's fine." He said, aware that this was alarmingly fast. In the space of half an hour, from his wake up to this, he had control. He felt as if while his brain was buzzed, his body was fine and under some control.

---

The gunmen had shot the nurse practictioner, in a fit of anger, as the blare could be heard, killing an innocent.
"Fuck! We search each room, manually." The leader said, the smoking barrel of the AKM cooling off, as two stayed behind, pointing guns at the lobby, as they spread out, making sure that they could see everything and anything. They weren't highly trained, but they knew what they were doing. In fact, they had sprung into action on a simple order. They had no idea that this moment had been coming for a while. This man wasn't meant to awake. He was meant to stay among the dead, back in Basra. The two men moved forwards, threatening any medical staff they saw, as they began their search of each and every room. They knew it would take longer now, but it was going to be done, one way or another. Kick a door in, find them, hunt them. That was how they moved, finding nothing on the ground floor, as they paced up a set of stairs.

---

He moved himself slightly, looking to Alexis.
"Let me walk." Scott asked, gulping, looking at his feet, and then back at her.
"Please. I don't want to die sitting." He said, still not knowing why he was saying this. Were they here for him? He didn't know why, he just said, out of an inner fear of sorts. That this was the end of his days, that something he had kept in his head in Basra now echoed back to now. He didn't understand it in entirety, as he reminded himself. But he didn't want to be here, if someone came. And the shot that could be very, very distantly heard had rang in his head. AKM, 7.62x39mm round, rimless. He didn't know how. What the fuck did he know about things like that? He was definitely US Army, but what branch? Something about Basra was when US Forces still were on the ground, but what the hell had he been doing there that got him like this? And why now? He knew she would say no, but he acted anyway, swinging off the bed, unhooking the IV and oxygen lines, a sharp pain in his wrist as he yanked it out, and stepped onto the cold floor, bare. He put weight and felt it hold, fighting it like was drunk, stepping as he heard doors rattle and clatter.
"They're hunting someone." He said, looking to her, as what he next said almost came about from an instinct. Like he wasn't thinking. It was doing. A drill, a proceedure, something you couldn't deactivate.
"Get under the bed. I don't want you to stand here when they come. It must be for me...there's no chance it's anyone else." He said, moving his hands, as he walked towards the corner of the door, on the side that the hinge was on. He grabbed a pencil, sitting on a clipboard, sharpened adequately. This would do fine. He stood behind the door's opening arch, breathing heavily, as he leaned in, looking back.
"Please. You need to understand." He said simply, gulping, aware that now, he was running off what his instincts ran. Not his brain. He was doing this because it was the only way he knew that he could stop them from doing harm to any more people, or himself. He could only guess- that they were hunting him, and while this was a Veteran's Hospital, just as she mentioned, it couldn't mean that there was anyone else they were looking for. It had to be him. Somehow, something valuable was in his conk, and while he didn't know, these men did. And for Alexis's sake at least, he wasn't going to let them kill her or do any harm. The noise of two quiet tones of Arabic reinforced all. This was it. They were close, and soon, they'd be coming right for him. Sure, he could be damn right delusional, but he knew to himself that it was a red alarm, and that Arabic, while fuzzy in his translation, seemed very clear. They were searching rooms, and soon, they'd try and kick in the locked door, and then shoot the lock. And that was when Scott knew he'd have to act.

Alexis opened her mouth to argue but the look on Scotts face told her not to instead she did as she was told and crawled under the dusty bed. "Does house keeping even clean up under here?" She muttered quietly, she was really worried for Scott but he seemed to have healed quickly and a different part of him seemed to has kicked in, his training seems to have kicked in.

---

In the lobby people were fleeing and as the terrorist went room from room cops were called the occasional veteran would make a valiant stand only to get shot down. It was a utter nightmare out there and when the police did arrive they only set up in the back entrance of the building and didn't go charging in as they wanted to make sure that it was clear first.

They continued clearing, and it seemed like they were one door away, when Scott waited, hands and arms ready. They were dumb- one man to a room, out of the four. The police were coming, but that didn't matter. There were more than this initial grouping- and it meant that they'd recover Scott Harris one way or another. Yet through the door where Scott stood, that wasn't going to happen. The man burst in, AK pointed high as he yelled, before Scott then burst forwards. He had learned Krav Maga as a part of his training- close quarters combat in a situation like this. He kicked the man with a low hit in the tendon, grabbing the AKM as he brought him down with an effective collapse and a significant punch to the temple. That had put the man on the floor and the barrel away from the both of them, but the trigger in Scott's hand, as he tried to resist, but it was not in time. He cocked the rifle, pointing it, as he tried to stand. He had no option. He fired, the AK putting a round in his head as the others realized something was off. He dropped to the floor, leaning the AK on his knee, moving close to the dead man. The other searcher walked in, seeing bodies.

One was Scott ,and he was alive, more than capable of doing serious damage, now he was armed. The AK had maybe half a mag left, but from his position, wrapped around the trigger, it was an easy shot. Three rounds punctured the man's torso, as Scott got up, hearing the men from the lobby move.
"Alexis...you need to follow me- stay behind something. I don't know what's going on, all I know is that they want me, I don't know how or why but they'll kill anyone in this hospital to get to you." He said, giving her a hand as he covered the door, then moving up once she was on her two feet. The leader of the men fired on the corridor, yelling, as Scott smirked, aware that wasn't going to do a lot. Bullets rang over him, as he then peeked out, and fired back, shooting the man in the arm and abdomen, putting him to the floor and incapacitating, but not disabling him entirely. He threw the AK down, picking up another one from the man he'd killed from his position on the floor, and found a Makarov PM in the man's back pocket.
"Take this. That trigger fires a round, you have eight to shoot with and one that is in the chamber already. Make them count- if you see someone with a gun, that isn't me, shoot them." He said coldly and rather authoritatively, moving towards the other side of the corridor, watching and looking as he knew that they had to get out.

Alexis watched in shock as the men came in and Scott dispatched them, it was quick and efficient almost brutally so. Just as she was crawling out from under the bed another man barged in and Scott shot him. She had seen dead men, and had worked on bad cases. But she had never seen someone take a life before her job was to normally save lives and while she could imagine what soldiers went through to take a life and Scott had just take them all out like there were nothing. He gave her the pistol and it felt so heavy in her hands almost like it was a weight. When he told her how to work the gun and how many rounds were in it she just nodded, she was frightened of Scott. So frightened she almost turned the gun on him just so she could be done with it but he told her that they were after her it seemed like a dream or something she had cooked up in her mind to escape something going on in her life but this wasn't it all felt so real. She could smell the gun smoke in the air.

Following after Scott she said nothing trapped in her thoughts and impulses to survive, when she spoke it was meekly. "Two more halls down and straight down is the exit to employee parking lot. My car is out there." She said, scanning behind them and that's when she saw it the masked man rise from behind the counter and point a gun at them, she reacted before he could speak and pulled the trigger she was either very lucky or she aimed well enough with her eyes closed that she hit the man in the throat killing him almost instantly. Finger still on the trigger and eyes still closed, she began to sob, she had just taken a life something against the very oath she swore as a doctor, she was with some highly trained soldier, and there were men trying to kill them both. The day couldn't get much worse.

Scott looked to her, looking around, just knowing she was blanking, lapsing out. It was a shock to the system. Something felt bad about this. Maybe the police had the place swept up. But they couldn't go to them. Not after this. It was something deep within his head. It would be needless. Too much questioning. He didn't want her to have blood on her hands, just protection. But even in this fragile state of mind, things became clearer. These people would hurt a lot of people to get to him. And while defeat was something that could be a nerve of thought, giving up and letting them have him, it wouldn't be right. There had to be a reason. Only then, would he figure out what he was going to be needed for. Perhaps they didn't expect this. The police had closed quickly, and while they had most of the area sealed, Scott could guess that getting out of there was the only choice they had. He knew she had to be scared, but he knew that perhaps, this nurse was his only hope.
"Alexis...I promise, whatever it is that is happening, it'll make sense in my head in time. They want me, not you...but they'll kill anyone to get to me. I need to know why, I don't know how I know this, it's just confusing." He just said, throwing the AK on the floor, and embracing her, hearing a distant siren.
"You said two more halls?"

Moving out into the carpark, running through the door, he looked around, aware that her Makarov was also down too. Perhaps they'd find fingerprints on it, Scott knew that wasn't the priority. This was bigger than police, and right now, he didn't want to go into a cell. He needed to get away from this place with her, somewhere quiet, think this through. Then act upon it and plan his next move. People wanted to kill him, and worse still, he had not a clue what the reason was. All he could say for sure was, that the Arabic, the nature that they came in, it flashed a memory. Bad ones. Almost blinding in his head, like it took some momentum away. But his mind continued to process, to make sure he could save himself and her in this moment.
"Which one's yours? I don't have a clue where we are....we should try and get away from here. I don't think we can go to the police on this one. It'll put you at risk, more than I already am. I'm sorry, Alexis. Shit...I don't know....I just can't let them take me, or it won't be good at all for anyone." He said, following her, scratching his head, Scott confused as he still stood in his patient's garnment, aware that it wasn't good for the cold but it would do for now.
"They can't hurt you if I can't help it...Alexis. Just trust me...I beg you, just let me get my senses back." He said, his words becoming easier to say as he began to at least think it through, looking to her as they were about to get into her car.
"You need to tell me what happened when I came into here."