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It's confidential, and I'm not allowed to tell anyone about it without proper authorization."The security guard stared at Dalkon suspiciously, before turning around and motioning for Dalkon to follow him.Dalkon followed the security guard through the lobby and into one of the elevators.They rode up to the fourth floor.The guard led him down the hall to room 431A.He knocked quietly, and when he heard a muffled reply, he opened the door and walked inside.Dalkon glanced into the room to see a figure sitting at the edge of the bed.It was Michael, wearing nothing but his pants and shoes. He looked exhausted and scared. He jumped when he saw Dalkon enter the room.He stood up."Dr. Prestcote, thank goodness you're here. I was starting to worry that you wouldn't come. These guys have been searching everywhere for me, and they've threatened to kill me if they don't find me by tonight. They're going to kill me unless you come to get me,"Michael exclaimed.Dalkon frowned."Why would they threaten to kill you if you haven't stolen any drugs?""Maybe they're trying to frame me for something,"Michael muttered."That's bullshit! They have no proof. Are you sure that's what's happening? Because if that's the case, we're both screwed."Dalkon was getting worried now."Don't panic,"Michael reassured him. "Just sit down and talk to me calmly."Dalkon nodded and sat down in the chair next to the bed."What are you doing here?"Michael asked."I came to help,"Dalkon replied. "Help? By helping them kill me?"Michael chuckled slightly."No, by helping you escape. Look, Michael, I'm a doctor. I won't let them do anything to you if I can help it.""Thank you, Doctor. If you hadn't shown up, I don't know what would have happened. Those thugs are scary enough as is. They'd probably beat me up or kill me for fun and then feed my blood to their dogs,"Michael said.Dalkon laughed softly."Well, then, I guess it's my turn to save you. How are you feeling now?"Dalkon asked."A little better, but I still have to rest a lot. The painkillers are taking effect, so the aches and pains are lessened quite a bit,"Michael answered.Dalkon nodded in response and turned to look over at Michael.He noticed that Michael was wearing a wedding ring, which gave Dalkon some comfort, although he felt sorry for him."Is there any chance that you could change your address, or even go back to England?"Dalkon asked.Michael hesitated, then said, "No, I'm afraid not. I've got an aunt who lives in London and she's expecting me back for Christmas. We're going to spend it together. I've already spoken to the landlord and he agreed to put me up in one of the rooms on the top floor."Dalkon nodded again, although Michael couldn't see him."Have you thought of a place to live yet?"Dalkon asked after a brief pause."Not yet,"Michael replied."How about the people who are looking for you? They must still be in your neighborhood. I suppose they could still be looking for you,"Dalkon said."I've been trying to avoid them,"Michael admitted.Dalkon sighed. "Well, if they were to find out about you, they could try to harm you in some way, or they could try to get even. They'l probably come looking for you,"Dalkon warned."Yeah, I guess so,"Michael said.He sighed deeply."Don't worry about it,"Dalkon assured him.Michael smiled faintly. "Thanks. I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself,"Michael added.Dalkon nodded in response."Now, what else can I do for you?"Michael asked. "Nothing right now. You just rest and try to relax.""Okay,"Michael whispered. "Good night."Dalkon smiled gently and left the room.As soon as he closed the door, he leaned against it and sighed deeply.It wasn't that easy to convince the security guard that he wasn't a suspect. He had made several trips to the police station to report finding the body of a teenage boy in the middle of nowhere, and every officer he talked to told him that they'd already looked all over for the body.The only thing he had managed to accomplish was convincing the security guard that Michael hadn't killed him, although the police were pretty convinced.He started to head home, but stopped short. He knew that he shouldn't be driving when he was still recovering from injuries received during a robbery a few weeks before.