"There's no point if he doesn't want to be found." Foreman stared at Amber, exasperated, as she immediately took out her phone and dialed House. "If he doesn't want to hear from me, I doubt he wants to hear from any of us," he said. Whether or not House resented having him around, he'd left Foreman in charge. That meant, at the very least, that he'd resent being interrupted, whether he was at a high-stakes poker game, getting himself drunk, or flying a black ops mission with the Green Berets. He wasn't taking calls. Foreman resented the fact that Amber didn't believe that--didn't believe him. Anyway, wasn't he good enough? He'd determined a path of action and as far as they knew it was the right one. Did she think that if House came in he'd sweet-talk the patient into agreeing? He was more likely to call them all incompetent and send them back in to make her have the tests and get the treatments, by tricking her if necessary.

Foreman followed Amber out into the hall, thinking about that. Tricking her wouldn't work, when she knew that they wanted to test her and treat her; telling her it was for something different when all he'd prescribed for the heatstroke was fluids wouldn't work. "I'm not going to handle this like House," he said. The candidates would get to know that. But Foreman wanted Amber to know it. She seemed to worship the ground House walked on even when he wasn't there to walk on it. Foreman respected her work; so far, he hadn't seen much evidence that she even believed he knew what he was doing. Sure, she'd done what he asked, but she acted like it had been a terrible imposition. Apologizing for that later helped, but he still didn't feel like she was obeying him because he was in charge. She was doing it to pass the time until House miraculously turned up.