House: Hello, sick people and their loved ones! In the interests of saving time and avoiding a lot of boring chit-chat later, I'm Dr. Gregory House. You can call me Greg. I'm one of three doctors staffing this clinic this morning.
Dr. Cuddy: Short, sweet, grab a file.
House: This ray of sunshine is Dr. Lisa Cuddy. Dr. Cuddy runs this whole hospital, so unfortunately she's much too busy to deal with you. I am a board-certified diagnostician with a double specialty of infectious disease and nephrology. I'm also the only doctor currently employed at this clinic who's forced to be here against his will. That is true, isn't it? But not to worry, because for most of you this job could be done by a monkey with a bottle of Motrin. Speaking of which, if you're particularly annoying you may see me reach for this. It's Vicodin - it's mine, you can't have any. And no, I do not have a pain-management problem, I have a pain problem. But who knows - maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm too stoned to tell. So, who wants me? [Everyone stares.] And who would rather wait for one of the other two guys? [Everyone raises their hands.] Well, I'll be in Exam Room 1 if you change your mind.
Dr. Cuddy: [to House.] It's not going to work. You know why? Because this is fun. You think of something to make me miserable, I think of something to make you miserable. It's a game, and I'm going to win. Because I got a headstart - you're already miserable.
House: Her leg hurts after running six miles. Who knows, it could be anything!
Answer: She would have No Reason to know it belonged to the CIA. If she did know he went off in the helicopter, all she would know is that it wasn't an ambulance helicopter.
Greg Dwyer