After the team's first breakfast on the ship, two security men stopped them and brought Face to the ship's medical deck, for his first session with the doctor. This area must have been some of the most expensive cabins once, Face thought. Only the lido deck and sun deck lay above it.

The security men left him alone in the doctor's consulting room. As he watched them go, he wondered about hidden cameras. Would the doctors let security violate confidentiality like that? Of course that assumed these doctors had the usual professional ethics. Given the set-up here, that was questionable.

The room had looked like a normal psychiatrist's office, no longer resembling a cruise ship cabin. Comfortable chairs, though no classic shrink's couch. The walls were painted in soothing tones and decorated with pictures of idyllic pastoral scenes. All very neutral and impersonal. One difference he noticed though. No diplomas on the wall, like in most doctor's offices. Of course these doctors didn't have to sell themselves to the patients here. They couldn't lose their business to the shrink down the road.

"Mr Ashton?"

Face turned from the window at the sound of a woman's voice behind him. A middle-aged, dark-haired woman in a white doctor's coat had come in to the room.

"Yeah?" He put on an impatient scowl. The doctor offered her hand to him for a shake. He took it, but with some hesitation, keeping up his wary act.

"I'm Doctor Anne Galvez," she said. "I'm Chief Medical Officer here. Please, sit down."

She took a seat. Face didn't yet, stayed standing, glaring down at her, but she showed no signs of feeling intimidated by that. Why should she? She was sitting in the chair with the panic button built into it. Face had found that less than a minute after they left him alone.

"So, you're in charge, huh? Good. Maybe I can finally get some answers."

"Of course. What are your questions?"

"Hah!" He made his laugh harsh. "That's a switch. I've had nothing but questions from you shrinks for months, and now you're ready to give me answers. I'll believe that when I see it."

She didn't respond to that, just waited for him. Face made her wait nearly thirty seconds, still glaring down at her. She looked back at him with a steady gaze and he saw she wouldn't crack first. Too experienced at this game. So he gave a small sigh and sat down on the couch.

A small table stood beside the arm of the couch, with a box of Kleenex on it. Face wondered if he could act well enough to pretend to cry. Maybe he'd leave such advanced techniques to Hannibal. He'd already discovered that the small table was bolted to the floor. The same went for most of the other furniture in the room, anything that you could otherwise pick up and throw. Were all the consulting rooms like that, he wondered, or did they use this one especially for the first session, for breaking the news?

"What's going on here?" Face asked. "They tell me they're moving me to a new facility, to continue my treatment." He shrugged. "Didn't mind too much, got tired of that other place. Then they fly us to New Zealand and sail us out here! Now I'm fine with the idea of a cruise at government expense. But seriously, what the hell?"

"Yes, you are here to continue your treatment. But you need to understand one thing straight away. This is permanent. You can never leave."

Face stared at her. How long should he stare? How long would a man stare on hearing that? He tried to remember how long he'd stared after hearing the guilty verdict at their court martial. This whole scene called for method acting. Called for a man who knew what it felt like to be caught in the machinery. After a moment he spoke, and put disbelief in his voice.

"Sorry, can you run that by me again?" Don't be angry too quickly, he thought. This is so outrageous he should take a moment to understand it, before the anger came.

"Mr Ashton," she said. "You're an experienced intelligence agent according to your files. You've done invaluable work for your country. But you also carry many secrets that would be of use to our enemies. In your condition, you're too vulnerable for us to risk your capture, or that you'll do something dangerous. For the sake of national security, you have to live here for the rest of your life."

Face saw some tension in Galvez's face and pose. She was ready if he blew up now. But again he made her wait.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr Ashton?" She pressed him. "Do you understand that you will never leave this vessel? We can help make your life here as pleasant and fulfilling as we can. But that's all we can do. Even if you recover, we can't set you free."

Face stood and saw her tense up again, but he didn't approach her. He started to pace the room.

"How can you do this? I've got rights!" He nearly spat the word 'rights'. His rights had never done him any good in the past.

"You're still subject to orders, and you've been assigned to this ship for long-term medical treatment."

Oh, well, that was a new one. Nobody had tried that one on him before. Maybe Lynch or Decker should have tried sending the team a transfer order assigning them to Fort Bragg.

"There's such a thing as illegal orders, lady. Speaking of legal, I want to talk to my lawyer. Have him check this out. No way you're allowed to keep me here!"

"You can't contact anyone, I'm afraid."

"What? You saying I'm incommunicado too? That's bullshit! You can't do that to people."

"You're an experienced and well-connected CIA agent. Tell me, had you ever heard of the Meirion before you arrived here yesterday?"

Face grimaced. "Okay, I get your point. But I'm not saying that you're not able to do it, because obviously, you are. I mean that it's wrong. All these people, hundreds of them, all stuck here? That's wrong!" He took a shaky breath as he felt heat rising to his face. Get a hold of yourself, he thought. Acting. Remember. Just acting. Would a CIA agent be so morally outraged? Those guys were pragmatists. Stockwell for one. Method acting, he ordered himself. Be Ashton, not Peck.

"Some of the patients have been here for many years," Galvez said. "Most come to accept it. They understand that they've had to sacrifice their liberty to protect their country. You've risked that yourself many times, risking capture by the enemy. Believe me, this will be a far more pleasant captivity than that."

"You actually think you can keep me here? You think I can't get the hell off this thing if I want to?" He couldn't wait to do it now. Show these bastards. Nobody was putting him in a cage again. Had enough.

"Trying to escape would only be a waste of time. I advise you to accept what's happened. It's strange, I know. But once you acclimate to it, you can become a happy member of our community." She smiled. "Some of our patients consider it an early retirement."

Face snorted. "I wasn't looking to retire yet. And when I did I was planning to spend most of my time in Vegas."

"Oh, in that case, you should find the casino of interest. Though you might find it hard to get near any of the tables, past the cryptologists and mathematicians counting cards and testing their systems on each other."

"You have a casino? What the hell do people wager? Cigarettes?" Just like jail. Just like Fort Bragg. Face paced faster now, shaking his head. What would it feel like if this was for real? Not having to act surprised? If you really were going to be stuck here? Better or worse than being told you were to be executed?

His hands clenched into fists involuntarily. He saw Galvez's hand rest lightly beside that panic button, disguised as a decorative leather button. She needn't have worried; Face wasn't going to attack her. Though right now, something heavy to throw at the window would be nice. He took a breath, trying to get back on track. On with the game. Didn't feel like a game. Felt like playing for keeps.

"No, this is some kind of trick. This can't be for real."

"I know it will take a few days for you to process this news, but we'll work through those days with you. Once you've accepted it, you can continue the excellent progress you've made so far with your treatment."

Face laughed harshly. "What the hell is the point of treatment if I'm never getting out of here?"

"Just because you can't leave, there's no reason you can't be relatively happy and healthy."

He snorted at that notion and wondered if they put anything in the water to keep the residents happy and placid. No, probably not. Many of them would be on other drugs. Not good to mix the effects.

"We'll continue your current prescription for now." Galvez wrote a note. "If need be later we'll adjust the dose."

"Damn pills." Not that he'd be taking any pills. Murdock had taught them all the fine art of not taking pills.

"I think that's all for today," she said, with a glance at her watch. "Take your time to think through what I've told you and we'll talk again tomorrow."

And that was that. The door opened and a white-coated orderly appeared to escort him out. Galvez already had her head down, writing notes.

"Doctor," Face said, stopping at the door and making her look up. He wanted to ask her how she slept at night, but tried to calm the anger churning his guts and say something less confrontational. "You know this is wrong, don't you?" Okay, so not that much less confrontational. And not CIA enough, not amoral enough. Why couldn't his cover ID have been Army, like Hannibal's and BA's? Army officers were allowed to have morals.

Did he see guilt in the doctor's eyes? Perhaps she hadn't quite managed to ball up every little bit of that guilt and hide it in the dark corners.

"I know that it's necessary."

She admitted nothing else.

~~~~

"I'm glad this is just for a few days," Face said, making BA look up from his food. "Because there's no way I could get used to eating dinner this early every day."

They'd been apart most of the day, having their sessions with the doctor, and only met up again all together at dinner, just after six-thirty. The dinner service had been running since five, BA remembered from the meal times in his information pack.

"Some of 'em's kind of old," BA said, looking around the room before turning back to the team. "Old people always want to eat dinner early."

"And they've got loads of neat activities to do all evening," Murdock said, mock enthusiastically. "I'm thinking of signing up for the basket weaving."

BA looked around again. Some of the other patients glanced over at the team, because they were new faces, he supposed. A few smiled, but others were more wary. Suspicious people by nature, he supposed. Or by training and experience. In the field too long to ever really trust anyone again.

"You guys managing to avoid the pills?" Hannibal asked and they all nodded. "Keep it that way. I don't need any of you incapacitated. BA, keep a lid on your temper. You start tossing guys around and they'll pump you full of stuff that will make you nostalgic about all the crap we've shot you with in the past."

"I ain't stupid, man."

It had been hard to keep the lid on today, in his session with that Galvez doctor. He had to react strongly, like a man would to that kind of news and that wasn't so hard, since he had plenty of experience of reacting to unfair treatment. On the other hand, if he got too aggressive, security would have dog-piled him in a second. So he'd tried angry resignation. Like this was just the latest of a long line of kicks in the teeth.

"When do we put this thing into motion?" Face said. "I really don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."

"Tomorrow night." Hannibal nodded at one of the security guards standing by the wall nearby. "If they've gotten bored with watching us too closely."

"That soon?" Murdock said.

"Like I said - 'if'. But don't let what Stockwell told you put you off. These guys are lazy and complacent. Their job is too easy. They've gotten lazy."

BA nodded, agreeing with that. He knew all about guard duty, since the team specialised in getting past guards. Guard duty made even a conscientious man lazy and incompetent through sheer boredom. Back at the camps they'd passed messages or gotten bread from Lin in plain sight of some of the guards. The trick was keeping them bored. Do anything too interesting and they wake up and take notice.

So the team continued their meal quietly, trying to appear as boring as possible. Though Murdock had thought tomorrow night was 'soon', BA wondered why they were waiting that long. They could start tonight. Get into the ship's records and find out where Miller's cabin was, grab her, signal Stockwell and be gone by dawn. That's what they were good at. Maybe Face was right though, maybe Hannibal had his reasons for wanting to stay a couple of days and find things out. Maybe forget Stockwell's plan and follow one of his own.

Part of BA hoped he would. All these people. All trapped here. Can't be right. He looked around again. The room had started to empty out, only a few people left, sitting with coffee, or desserts, finishing up slowly. No rush. The catering staff were clearing up the tables and the serving line.

Murdock saw BA looking around, and did the same, then froze suddenly, and his gaze became intense. BA followed it and saw a group of people sitting at a table, a man and two women. And one of the women...

"It's her," BA said softly. Murdock looked back at him and nodded. To Face and Hannibal's credit, BA thought, neither of them turned around and stared when BA spoke. Katherine Miller sat chatting and drinking coffee, showing no sign of noticing BA and Murdock looking at her.

"If you're sure, stop looking at her now," Hannibal ordered and Murdock and BA looked back to their companions.

"I'm sure," Murdock said. "It's her. She's thinner than in the photo Stockwell showed us. But it's her."

"Thinner?" Hannibal frowned. "How thin? Like... sick?"

Murdock shrugged. "Couldn't say."

"You think she's sick?" Face said, glancing over his shoulder.

"It would explain the urgency," Hannibal said. "Maybe Stockwell needs to get hold of her before it's too late."

"Okay, well, never mind that for now," Face said. "We have to use this chance. One of us could follow her. If she goes back to her cabin, then we don't need to risk breaking into the records office."

Hannibal nodded and grinned. "Got any suggestions for which one of us that should be, Face?"

Face winced at his accidental volunteering and sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Maybe I can at least get a cup of coffee first. She doesn't look like she's in any hurry to leave."

He stood up to go to the coffee urns, and then gasped and looked up at the sound of a klaxon. The rest of the team did the same, but the few patients remaining, along with the catering staff and security guards, just looked annoyed.

The klaxon stilled after a moment and a voice came over the PA.

"Now hear this. Lifeboat drill. All hands report to lifeboat stations. Lifeboat drill."

"Damn," Hannibal muttered.

A security man standing nearby came to the team at once. "Follow me. I'll show you the way to your lifeboat."

The team got plenty of glares on the way to the boats. This was their fault, BA knew, remembering Blaine saying it was standard procedure to hold a drill when new arrivals joined the ship.

"Great, now everyone hates us for ruining their evening," Face muttered. As they joined the crowds of people in the hallways, Murdock, taller than most people, craned his neck to keep Miller in sight. But when the crowd reached the boat deck it split into several groups and Murdock shook his head, looking annoyed.

Lost her.

Of course. BA could have told him it wouldn't be that easy.

~~~~

Kate Miller retuned to her cabin after the drill. She could have gone back to the dining room, but her coffee would be cold. She'd been thinking of grabbing a second helping of dessert before they cleared it all away, but she had a few snacks on hand in here.

She'd known there would be a lifeboat drill with the new arrivals, of course, but would still like to have a few words with the person who thought it funny to run the drill while it was still technically dinnertime. Oh well, it could be worse. She'd lost count of the times she'd shivered in her nightdress at her lifeboat station.

When Kate entered the cabin, a canary in a cage that hung from the ceiling began to chirp and hop from one perch to the other.

"Hungry, Sammy?" She took a box of birdseed from a drawer. Getting low, she thought, rattling the box. Was it worth requisitioning a new box?

She filled the plastic seed holder and the bird at once hopped onto it and began eating. Kate ignored the mess made by the seed husks that rained from the cage onto the carpet below. Not her problem. The cleaner would vacuum it up.

"Good boy, Sammy. Such a pretty boy," she cooed at the oblivious creature as it went on eating. Kate sighed. Might as well talk to the wall. Or to one of her fellow patients. Some of them had become as vacuous as the bird, minds filled with worthless trivia and the minutiae of their lives here.

Look at Emma Sampson, with whom she'd shared dinner tonight. The woman once killed a Gestapo officer with a crochet hook. Now she spent her days making doilies and gossiping about the younger officers and medics. Such a waste.

Leaving the bird to its supper, Kate pottered around the room, tidying up the books and papers that lay scattered on her desk. She gathered up about a dozen pens and pencils and put them back into their pot. Better. Well, good enough.

Should she read for a while? Or should she just go to bed? Her mind went to the new arrivals aboard and she smiled. When would they make their move? A good idea to get plenty of rest before they did. She'd need all her strength soon. No, it was still early. An hour of reading first, she decided. And some chamomile tea.

She'd made the tea and put some cookies on a plate when a knock sounded at her door. Kate raised an eyebrow. Already? They did have a reputation as fast workers. But it was probably just a friend inviting her to a bridge game, or to play chess.

It was neither of the speculated parties. Instead Kate opened the door to find a young officer standing there. He smiled politely.

"May I come in, ma'am?"

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant..." She read his name tag. "Blaine?" She knew his face of course, knew every face on this damn boat. She stepped back to allow him to enter. He hesitated on the threshold for a moment, then stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Kate stared at the door and knew at once that she'd made a mistake.

She didn't ask any silly questions, just waited for him to make his next move. He drew a small pistol and didn't quite point it at her, more to the side, almost an embarrassed gesture.

"I'm very sorry about this, ma'am. I have to ask you to come with me."