[NOTE: I don't know how long Race & Estella have been divorced; I'm just guessing. Correct me, please, if you know the real answer.]
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Quest Team, nor am I making any money from this fanfic. So.
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Jessie's room at the Quest compound was a universe unto itself. A large wooden desk with three computer terminals on its surface, one of which was fully assembled and working, the other two in stages of disrepair (or perhaps repair?) stands against one wall. The chairnext to the desk had a leather bomber jacket tossed over it. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf stood next to the desk, taking up the other half of wall space. It was 3/4 of the way filled, with everything from chemistry texts to the complete chronicles of Narnia to *Jane's Fighting Planes*.
Her dresser top was cluttered with toiletries and a set of Allen wrenches. Two framed photographs were prominently displayed: one of her mother, and one of Race Bannon, her father and hero. On the wall next to the dresser hung another framed picture, of Jessie and her best friends, Jonny and Hadji, with Dr Quest standing behind them, one hand on the shoulder of each boy. On the bed, a scatter of *Popular Mechanic*, *Starlog*, and *Mademoiselle* magazines competed with looseleaf papers covered with class notes in Jessie's neat handwriting. The inanimate objects also competed for space with Jessie herself.
She sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed. For a change, she wasn't doing anything, not reading, not tinkering with the computer, not exploring cyberspace; not adventuring in QuestWorld; not listening to Hadji explain Yoga and physics, or talking to Jonny about the Crusades, or rubbing Bandit's tummy; not smiling to herself as Dr Quest gives them a lecture about some obscure scientific theory, forgetting that they're not as well-educated as he is.
Jessie was just *there*, quiet, and alone. A knock on the door disturbed the silence. "Come in," Jessie called.
"Hey, Jessie," Jonny said, sticking his head into the room, "Hadji and I are gonna play a rousing game of Motorised Renegade Ninja Croquet."
"I thought Hadji said he wouldn't play that anymore after the last time," Jessie remarked, not looking up from the bedspread.
"We instituted a new rule: No mallets above the knees. Wanna join us?" he asked, surprised at Jessie's inactivity.
"No, thanks. Some other time, maybe," she said.
Jonny frowned. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"Nothing."
"Oh," said Jonny. *Huh??* thought Jonny.
"Thanks, anyway," Jessie added.
"No problem," he said. Jonny started to leave, then looked back, more than a little worried. "We'll be out for a while, if, um, if you want any company."
For the first time, Jessie looked up, and even smiled a little.
"Okay. Thanks, Jonny."
"Yeah. Later, Jessie."
=========================================
"...did she say what she was thinking about?" Hadji asked, after Jonny related the strange encounter.
"Yeah. Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. I know, I don't get it, either," he added, seeing Hadji's perplexity.
"Perhaps we should talk to Race?" Hadji suggested. "She would talk to him, I'm sure."
"I dunno," Jonny replied doubtfully. "If she wants to talk to someone, won't she just *talk* to them?"
"Yes.... unless she wants someone to *go* to her."
=========================================
As Jonny and Hadji entered Dr Quest's study, the scene was no more orderly. Dr Quest and Race Bannon were seated in front of a computer terminal. Dr Quest typed a command, pressed enter. The computer beeped loudly, but produced no other results. Another command, another set of beeps. A third repetition, and a fusillade of computer sounds erupted from the speakers, the screen flashed three times, and the entire hard drive shut down.
"I don't think it's supposed to do that..." said Dr Quest.
"Me, neither. Just what kind of upgrade *was* that?" wondered Race.
"We'll have to ask-- ah, here they are, now. Jonny, just what did you three do to QuestWorld??"
"Um, Dad, can we talk about that later?" hedged Jonny. "Right now, we've got a problem. Maybe. Kind of. We think."
"It's about Jessie," added Hadji.
Race was on his feet in a moment, prepared to go to the rescue. "Is something wrong? Is she sick?"
"Well, no. I don't think so. She didn't *sound* sick. She just sounded kind of, well, not like Jessie, that's all," said Jonny.
"Not like Jessie, how?" asked Dr Quest.
Jonny shrugged, unable to provide a clear answer. "Just not like Jessie. She said she was thinking, and when I asked her what about, she just said 'Nothing.' "
"You're right. That isn't like Jessie. In fact, she has been rather quiet lately," mused Dr Quest.
"She has? I haven't noticed anything wrong," frowned Race.
"Nothing is actually wrong, Race. She's just been quiet."
"I'll go talk to her," Race decided, heading for the door.
"Good," said Jonny, relieved, "and tell her..."
Race paused. "Yeah?"
"Tell her, we could still use a third for croquet."
"I'll do that, Jonny," Race replied, smiling, and left.
=========================================
In Jessie's room the situation was unchanged. A knock on the door disturbed the silence. "Come in? Oh, hi, Daddy," Jessie said, as her father entered.
Race sat down on the end of her bed, after displacing several magazines. "You haven't called me that in a long time, not since you were a little girl."
"Hmm? No, I guess not..." Jessie said. Her strangely subdued behaviour worried Race.
"Jess, is something wrong? Is there something you want to talk about?"
"No, Dad. Everything's fine. I'm fine."
*She doesn't look fine,* thought Race. Jessie's face turned a little red, and her eyes were rather bright. A little too quickly, she got up and started shuffling papers around on her desk.
"You sure? I just talked to Jonny, and he said--"
Finally, Jessie lost her temper. "Well, that's just great! Can't I have *any* privacy anymore??" she demanded, dropping a handful of chemistry notes.
"Jessie--"
"I'm just fine, thank you very much!"
"Jessica, don't use that tone of voice with me," Race said, sternly.
Jessie took several deep breaths, the way Hadji had taught her. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm just fine, thanks for asking. Now could I go back to what I was doing?"
"What were you doing?" Race asked, trying to restore a sense of camaraderie to the conversation.
Jessie took another deep breath. "Thinking."
He started to ask "about what?", then remembered what Jonny had said.
"Okay, then. But if you want to talk, I'm here, Jess."
"Yes, Dad. I know."
"I'm glad we had this little talk," Race said, uncertainly.
"Me, too, dad."
Race got up to leave. When he reached the door, he looked behind him, still worried. Jessie smiled brightly. He nodded, not really convinced, and closed the door.
Jessie's smile vanished. "He forgot," she whispered, sat down on the floor, and burst into tears.
=========================================
Race walked slowly away from Jessie's door, down the hallway, extremely dissatisfied with himself. *Well, you handled *that* brilliantly.*
He returned to Dr Quest's study. The boys were already gone, but Dr Quest remained, fiddling with the computer, with no luck. He looked up as Race entered. Race filled him in quickly, finishing: "...I just can't figure out what's gotten into her. Jessie's so level-headed."
Dr Quest was silent for a long time before answering. "Race, when were you divorced?"
"Doctor, you know-- Oh. I hadn't even-- I didn't even remember. Today's sort of the anniversary of the day the papers came through. Five years today," he added.
"I would imagine Jessie remembered."
"I know what you're thinking," Race began, but the doctor interrupted. "Jessie's a very observant, intelligent young woman, Race. But that doesn't mean she understands everything. She probably still hopes that you and Estelle will get together again."
"She doesn't-- we had a talk about it, when Estelle and I first separated-- she said she understood, that we wouldn't get back together," objected Race.
"I'm sure she said it, Race. I'm sure she meant it. But maybe she finally *knows* it."
"You know, people think being a SEAL was hard. But being a father...."
"I know how you feel, my friend," said Dr Quest. "I know how you feel."
=========================================
In Jessie's room, the situation was unchanged... almost. A knock on the door disturbed the silence.
"Jessie?" Race said, knocking again. "Jess?" Slowly, he opened the door and looked inside. "Jess, I wanted--"
The room is empty. A note, addressed "To Dad" was propped up on the dresser. Frowning, he picked it up and read:
"Dad:
"Don't worry, I haven't run away from home or something silly like that. I've just gone out for a while to think. I'll be back for dinner, okay? Love, Jessie.
"PS-- Remind Hadji about what happened the *last* time they played croquet. I think he's forgotten.
"Jess."
Race read it twice, then folded it, tucked it into his pocket, and sat down on the bed again. "Being a SEAL was *definitely* easier...."
=========================================
The Rockport Mall teemed with shoppers that day. The mall was a popular hangout for teens, especially; and that demographic group was well represented. A young couple in matching blue T-shirts walked slowly together, holding hands, not talking much. A tall, dark-haired man walked with a small redhead, talking about swamp gas. Fathers pushed strollers; mothers held the hands of toddlers. Brother and sisters argued without malice-- and sometimes with.
Jessie walked alone, not really minding her solitude. She browsed through her favourite book stores, absent-mindedly.
"Hello, Jessie," one of the clerks at Ragstock smiled. "The new Laurie King book isn't in yet-- sorry."
" 'S okay," Jessie said. "I'm not really looking for anything today."
Uncharacteristically, she left empty-handed. She wandered through Rimshot, and left without even really looking at the new classical releases. She started to stop for lunch, but lost her appetite seeing the families sharing a meal.
*Shared history,* she thought, sadly. *Something we really don't have. But why does it matter? I've got two great friends, Dr Quest for an uncle, and the greatest dad ever. So, it's a family, right? Right. Right.*
She passed by an antique store, and her attention was caught by a display of ships-in-a-bottle. She paused a moment to examine it, and moved on.
"Excuse me! Miss?" called a female voice. Jessie turned. A young woman, a little taller and older than Jessie, with *very* red hair, came up to her. She was dramatically dressed in very tight jeans, a pink crop top, pink heels, and a cropped denim jacket. Her hair was heavily sprayed and teased, and her make-up was... dramatic.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry-- I know you don't know me, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favour?"
"Um... what kind of favour?" Jessie asked, surprised.
"I'm trying to buy a vase for my mother's birthday, but it's too expensive. I was bargaining with the clerk, in fact. Thing is, it's gonna take a while, and I'm supposed to meet my uncle for lunch. Could you-- would you take him a note from me, so he won't worry?"
"Well, yeah, sure," Jessie said hesitantly. It was a strange request, but it was only natural for the girl to not want her uncle to be concerned.
"Great! Oh, thanks so much!" She opened her purse, pulling out a tiny notebook and a pen, scribbled down a brief message, folded it, and handed it to Jessie. "He'll be waiting for me outside Annabelle's. He's about, oh, six feet tall, wearing a red windbreaker. His name's Matt."
"Six feet, red, Matt. Got it."
"Thanks again-- I really appreciate it!" the girl said, smiling.
"No problem," Jessie replied. She walked off in the direction of the restaurant, feeling a little better.
=========================================
The other girl watched her for a moment, then looked around hurriedly, as if wanting to make sure no one had noticed them. She walked off quickly... in the opposite direction from the antique store.
=========================================
Jessie moved on, her spirits slightly lifted by just being *useful*. One thing she understood about Jonny-- *Maybe the only thing,* she smiled to herself-- was his need for action. "There's a time to think, and a time to do!" he had once said, emphatically.
"And half an hour ago was the time to think," she had replied, as the helicopter made another pass overhead, looking for them.
*I need to find something to do,* she decided, *instead of sitting around, feeling sorry for myself. I've got a great family. Weird, sometimes, but great.*
Just ahead, she spotted a man in a red windbreaker. *That would be him*, she decided. He looked at her, looked past her, shook his head irritably, and walked off. Jessie looked around. No other man with a windbreaker was waiting around....
*There he goes!* "Sir! hey, wait a minute!" she called, running after him. He turned around, frowning.
"Are you-- is your name Matt?"
"Yeah." No other reply.
"Um... I've got a note for you," she said, feeling uncomfortable, handing it to him.
He took it, read it quickly, then smiled. "Oh, right. I get it."
"Okay, right. I'm, um, I'll just be on my way," Jessie said. She was suddenly very conscious of the empty parking lot.
"No, wait a second. Take a note back to my friend for me, would you, please? I can't wait-- emergency at work."
"Uh, I think I'd--"
"Thanks, you're a doll," he said. "My van's over here, it'll just take a minute." Without waiting for her to reply or follow, he walked over to a large, dusty, green van. He opened the side door and began to rummage around.
*Maybe I'm just being paranoid,* Jessie thought. *He isn't trying to--*
"Here we go," Matt said, digging around in a beat-up briefcase and hauling out a notebook, managing to dump the contents out in the process. Without thinking, Jessie moved forward to help Matt gather up his possessions.
"Thanks. I'm a real klutz sometimes."
"It could happen to any--"
Before she could finish her sentence, Matt grabbed her, slung her in the van, jumped in behind her, and slammed the door. "Okay, Red, you--"
Before *he* could finish his sentence, Jessie kicked him, knocking his legs out from under him, and dove for the door, Matt swearing viciously behind her. She grabbed the door handle, but something struck the back of her head, and the world went white. She slumped to the floor of the van, unconscious.
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When she wakes up, it is to find that her whole world shakes and rumbles. Her head throbs, and the smell of gasoline fills her head, not improving the situation. It is several minutes before she realises that she is lying on the floor of a van. It takes even longer to recall the sequence of events. She wonders if she is concussed. Her hands are bound. *My head hurts.... Daddy.... help....* And then blackness again.
*Oh. Oh, wow. Oh, *wow*. This hurts.*
Her wrists were tied behind her back, and she could no longer feel her fingers. Her ankles were similarly bound, but her jeans kept the ropes from cutting circulation off there, too. She was lying on her back, which put a painful strain on her shoulders; she turned to her side. Mistake. Gasoline fumes, and the end result of having been socked on the head, almost made her sick.
*Maybe I'll just lie very still and quiet for a while,* she decided.
She did, with no noticeable improvement. *Okay, Jessie. Try and figure out just whattheheck's going on here. You're tied up on the floor of a van, your head -really- hurts, and you don't have any idea why. Great. Nice deduction, Sherlock.*
The door slid open unexpectedly, letting in a painful amount of light. Two figures stood silhouetted in the door. They looked at Jessie for a long time-- long enough to make Jessie very, very, very nervous.
"Matt," said the taller man, finally, "you're a moron. It's the wrong girl."
"But-- but-- she's got red hair-- she had a note from McClellan--"
"You're still a moron. Did McClellan *tell* you it was her?"
"No."
"Bingo. Charlie set you up-- set *her* up, too," he added, pointing at Jessie. "Now we've got to figure out what to do with her."
"Ryan, she knows what I look like," Matt said abruptly. Jessie's stomach lurched.
"That's your fault. Listen, we'll leave her here for now. Keller wants to talk to us."
"Um... do we have to tell him about this?"
"*Yes*, we have to tell him about this. You want him to find out from someone else??"
"Okay, okay. Just a thought." The door slammed closed again.
"Nice talking to you, too," rasped Jessie, instantly regretting moving her head. *Oh, this -hurts-. Okay, stop whining. You're in trouble, serious trouble, and you need to get your act together. Right? Right.*
Ignoring the way her head pounded at every movement, she struggled herself into a semi-upright position. After much too long, she managed to maneuver her arms over her legs and back in front of her. She lay very still for a while, panting. *Thank Hadji for teaching you yoga stretches,* she reminded herself. *Flexibility pays. I'll have to remember that. Okay, now what?*
"Now what?" didn't take too long. The van was full of rough edges; she chose the wheelwell, and after that, it was only a matter of time before she scraped through the rope. *Amateurs. They should try handcuffs,* she thought smugly. Her self-satisfaction faded almost instantly, as feeling returned to her fingers.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. At least it distracted her from her head. Finally, the sharp pains in her hands died down. Another few moments, and her feet were free. Jessie moved as quietly as she could to the front seat and peered out the window. She seemed to be in a large warehouse. No-one was in sight.
She slowly opened the door and climbed out, closing it quietly, and bolted for the shelter of a pile of packing crates. She did a quick check of her physical condition. *Bruises-- where did that cut come from?* she wondered, examining a long, shallow gash on her arm, *aches, pains... nothing too serious. At least, I hope not. The head's the worst, but nothing to be done about it. Gotta get out of here, first.*
=========================================
"...perhaps if we just format the hard-- Race?"
Race turned from the window. "Hmm? Oh, sorry, Doctor. It's getting kind of late, isn't it? Jessie should be home by now."
"Perhaps she ran into a friend," Dr Quest suggested.
"Maybe. But she always calls. She's responsible when it comes to stuff like that. I told her, always call if you're going to be late. She always calls," he repeated.
"Then don't worry," Dr Quest said. "If Jessie said she would be back in time for dinner, she will be back."
"Yes, of course," Race said, half-heartedly. "She'll be here any minute now."
"Is Race still watching out the window?" asked Hadji. He and Jonny had given up their croquet game. It simply wasn't as much fun without a third. Instead, they had spent most of the day just hanging around the compound, talking.
"Yeah, he's still there. Jessie's gonna catch it when she gets home. She's supposed to call if she's gonna be late," Jonny said, without any real enthusiasm for the prospect.
"You're worried, too?"
"Uh-huh. I mean, not that she's late. I'm just worried about the way she's been acting. Think she's gonna be okay?"
"All we can do is make sure she knows we are willing to listen, if she needs to talk," Hadji said quietly. "The true friend is one who understands the importance of listening, not talking."
"Yeah. Things were so easy, when we were all young," Jonny said.
Hadji smiled. "Yes, I suppose they were," he agreed.
=========================================
*Okay, Jessie, here's a question for you. What's less dangerous: being hit on the head and kidnapped, or playing croquet with the guys? Okay, here's a better question: Which way do I go? Um.... let's try left.*
Voices ahead of her almost instantly changed her mind. For a moment, Jessie considered running, but common sense reasserted itself.
*They're not getting closer, dummy, -you- are.* Common sense rapidly took a back seat to curiosity; she began to sneak a little closer to the voices, finding a hiding place in the darkness of a doorway. The high ceiling resulted in voices echoing, making her head ache even more.
"Explain to me again, how this happened," a hoarse male voice was saying.
"This little red-head came up with a note for me-- she knew my name, and everything. The note said, 'This is the girl. You owe me. McClellan.' So I grabbed her. We never met, remember? She doesn't know what I look like. That's why you sent me. You said, 'Get the red-head.' So, I got one. It was an honest mistake."
"It was a stupid mistake," contradicted the first man. "However, Charlotte is still out there, somewhere. She can identify all of us-- not just you, Matthew. One of you should have realised she was going to run."
"There was no way we could've known it," Ryan said. "She seemed a little down, but I didn't really think--"
"Exactly. And now this cosy little operation is in danger. Do either of you know the current punishment for smuggling?"
"Oh, it's just a bunch of stupid old pots," grumbled Matt.
"Stupid old pots that were never supposed to leave the country," corrected the other man.
"Well, who'd've thought she'd get all upset about ripping that old man off, Keller?" Ryan pointed out.
"That hardly matters, since neither of you thought of it. I want you and Matthew to get out there and find Charlotte. The other girl will have to wait-- take one of the other vans." Footsteps echoed as Keller walked away. Jessie tensed, until it was obvious that he was moving in the opposite direction.
"I'm sorry I ever let you in on this," snapped Ryan. "Two weeks you've been here, and you go and screw things up."
"All right, already. You can nag me later. Let's find Charlie."
"Right." The two men moved off after Keller.
*Oboy. Okay, it's time to get out of here and call Dad. If I can find a phone. Where -am- I, anyway?* She turned around.
Behind her, stood the red-haired girl from the mall.
=========================================
Afterwards, Jessie decided she hadn't really lost her temper, not really. Losing her temper would have been childish and counter-productive, and not really helpful to the situation at hand. She hadn't lost her temper, she'd spoken her mind.
"You!!!!!!!"
"Um, hi there," said the girl. This must be Charlie, Jessie realised.
"You! you-- you set me up! I got hit on the head-- and don't think it doesn't *still* hurt-- and--"
"Listen, I'm sorry, really, I am," Charlie said hurriedly. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought they'd send Ryan."
"You told me Matt."
"Uh... okay, I set you up. I'm sorry."
"Sorry--!"
"Could you yell at me later? I'm going to try and get you out of this, since I got you in."
"Good point. Okay. Let's go."
As the girls started to move out, keeping close to the shadows, Jessie whispered: "How'd you get here, anyway? Who *are* these guys?"
"They're smugglers-- they've been moving artifacts illegally from South America, and selling them to collectors who aren't too picky about the law. There isn't a *huge* market, but it's an expensive one. There was this old guy.... He was really nice to me," she broke off for a minute. "His nephew was selling, and Keller was buying. The old guy didn't want him to, and they-- well, they beat him up, and just *took* the stuff. That's where I draw the line. I mean, they didn't kill him, he's gonna be all right, but I wanna go home."
"Where're you from?"
Rhode Island. I, well, I ran away from home. Figured I'd show them all I could take care of myself. I went to New York, I was gonna be an actress...." Charlie couldn't seem to stop herself, now that she finally had someone to listen. "That was more than a year ago. I met Ryan... he said he could find me a job, somewhere to live, so I'd be okay. I want to go home, that's all."
"Me, too," said Jessie. "You can go with me-- my dad can help you."
"But, I've been breaking the law, too."
"It'll work out, Charlie. Let's get out of here."
"This way," Charlie said, moving down the hall. "You were almost outside, anyway. We're only about fifty miles from where Matt grabbed you, actually."
The girls slipped outside, where it was already dark. *How long was I out?* Jessie wondered, idly. "Most of the warehouses here are used for storage for construction companies-- it's pretty busy, but only during the daytime. No-one notices one truck more or less," Charlie finished.
"Is there a pay phone anywhere-- oh, never mind," Jessie corrected herself, as she spotted a blessedly welcome phone booth. " I'll make it fast."
"We're out of sight of the warehouse," Charlie pointed out.
"Famous last words," Jessie replied. "Yes, I'd like to place a collect call to 555-1147, please. Jessie Bannon. Yes, thanks."
=========================================
"Hello?" Dr Quest said. "What!" His suddenly sharp tone of voice got Race's attention. "Yes, yes, I'll accept charges. Race, it's Jessie!" he exclaimed, passing the phone to Race.
"Jess, where are you?? Are you all right?"
"No, Dad, not really. I'm-- *we're* at a bunch of warehouses at-- where are we?"
"Jess, who're you talking to?"
"--at the Collier Warehouse Group, about 50 miles outside of the city. We need help, Dad, and fast!"
"Jessica, what on earth--" Race began, scribbling down the information on a scrap of paper, which he handed to Dr Quest.
"Dad, I can't explain now. We're kind of in a bind."
Dial tone.
"Jessie? Jess?"
"Let's go," Dr Quest said. "We'll get the boys-- we'll take the helicopter."
Race was already out the door.
=========================================
"Hello again, Charlie," Keller said. "Did you find this little girl for us? How nice."
Charlie froze. Jessie groaned to herself. *Nice move, Jessie. Get yourself caught by the bad guys, -again-. Smooth.* She turned around to see Matt, and two other men, standing behind them. Matt had a gun.
"Charlie, why don't you introduce us to your friend?" the first man said again. "No? Can't do it? Rather rude of you, dear. Oh, well.
Young woman," he continued, addressing himself to Jessie, "my name is Keller. And you are....?"
"Getting out of here," Jessie blurted, and sprinted.
Shocked, Matt didn't think to shoot. Charlie was surprised, too, but not too surprised to run after Jessie-- and tackle her.
"I got her!" she yelled.
"Hey! what? Leggo!" Jessie yelped, struggling.
Keller and his associates strolled up casually. Matt and Ryan separated the girls.
"Nice work, Charlotte," Keller said approvingly. "It's good to see you know whose side you're on. Take this one to, oh, never mind. She can come with us. And *you*, Matt, will keep an eye on her. McClellan's here, now, and we'll need to make some arrangements. She's got friends on the way, and I intend to be ready for them."
Protesting loudly, Jessie was dragged into the warehouse again, into a large inner room. Charlie sat down on a crate, looking very unhappy.
"I'm sorry, Jessie," she said. "But I gotta look out for myself."
"So I noticed," Jessie replied, flatly. She did a survey of herself. One knee of her jeans was totally ripped out, and the skin beneath was abraded and bleeding. *So much for -this- pair of jeans.* The fall had started her head pounding again. *I don't feel well,* she thought dizzily.
"Shut up," Matt said, irritably. "I've heard about enough out of both of you."
Charlie didn't, opting to start arguing with him. Jessie did; she had bigger problems than Matt. *I have to figure out how to warn Dad! They'll be walking right into an ambush,* she thought desperately. She eyed Matt. He still had the gun, which certainly complicated things.
"I'm going to keep this simple," Keller said, as he, Ryan, and a fourth man, McClellan, walked in. "Get Charlie and our young guest out of the way. We wait here. When her friends arrive, we shoot them. Now, are there any questions?" he asked sarcastically. "No? Good."
"What're you going to do with *her*?" Charlie asked suddenly.
"What do you think?" Keller snapped.
"You can't-- she's just a kid!"
"You dragged her into this, Charlotte. I'm just taking things one step further. Matthew, move them out of the way. If they protest, object, or interfere, just shoot them. I'd rather use you as hostages, but I have no intention of going to jail," he said coolly, as Charlie began to speak again. "Keep your mouth shut, Charlotte, unless you'd like to join your new friend in her little fix." Charlie closed her mouth again.
The sound of a helicopter broke the silence.
"A *helicopter*?" asked Ryan, unbelieving.
"Move, now!" snarled Keller.
Matt pointed to a stack of empty packing crates. "Back there," he said. Unwillingly, Jessie and Charlie moved. The other men stepped away from the door, out of the line of vision of anyone who entered.
From outside, a voice could be heard. "Well, there's a phone booth over here."
*Jonny!* Jessie thought. *Bannon, think fast! -Do- something!*
"Hold still, kid," whispered Matt, roughly. "You can't help your friends-- all you're gonna do is get yourself shot, if you try anything."
"Shut up over there!" hissed Keller.
"She's got to be around here somewhere, Doctor," Race said, frustrated.
"That warehouse over there-- the door's open," Jonny said.
"We have to start somewhere," Hadji replied.
"Be careful, everyone," cautioned the doctor.
The team started for the door.
"I'll go in first," said Race.
*Daddy!*
Without thinking, Jessie snaked her leg behind Matt's, and shoved him, as hard as she could. He toppled over backwards, the gun went flying, and Charlie dived for it.
"Dad! Doctor Quest! Ambush!" Jessie screamed. Matt tried to sit up, and she grabbed an empty crate, hitting him with it.
"Jessie!"
McClellan and Ryan bolted in the opposite direction, only to be stopped by Charlie, who pointed the gun with a sense of purpose. Keller snarled, and charged Jessie. "That's it, kid!"
*BANG*
The report from the shot echoed through the empty warehouse deafeningly. Almost simultaneously, Race lunged through the door and body-blocked Keller, taking him down. The two men landed on the floor, *hard*.
Hadji and Jonny ran to Jessie; Dr Quest moved to assist Charlie.
"Jessie, are you all right?" Hadji asked.
" . . . . " Jessie turned her head to the right slightly. There was a neat hole in the wall, right next to her ear. "It's been one of those days, guys," she said, a little shakily. And fainted.
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When she wakes up, it is to find that her whole world is warm and dark. Her head throbs dully, and the smell of disinfectant fills her head, obscurely comforting. It is several minutes before she realises that she is lying in a hospital bed. It takes even longer to recall the sequence of events. She wonders if she is concussed.
Her knee is sore, and her muscles ache. A voice: "Jess?"
"...daddy...?"
"Go back to sleep, darlin'. Everything's okay."
"...'kay...."
Silence.
Much later:
"Hi, Jessie," a cheerful voice said. "We brung you some flowers."
Jessie made herself focus. "Oh, hi, Jonny. Thanks." Jonny held out a bouquet of weeds, roots and all. "I think."
"Just kidding. Here's something you'll appreciate more than flowers," Jonny grinned. Hadji stepped into the room, holding a basket full of books and M&Ms.
"Greeeat," Jessie smiled. "Sorry, guys. I'm a little out of it, still."
"No problem, Jessie. We just wanted to come and keep you company for a while. Nice job, by the way. Slight concussion, bruises over most of your body. I'm impressed."
"The doctor said you should be able to go home tomorrow morning," Hadji added.
"Oh, that really *is* good news," Jessie said. "What happened back there, after I--"
"Swooned?" grinned Jonny.
"--blacked out," Jessie finished firmly.
"Nothing, really," Jonny said, clearly a bit disappointed. "We called the police, they arrested the guys, and that was it. They wanted to talk to you, but Race said over his dead body, and anyway, you were down for the count."
"What about Charlie?" she asked, hesitantly.
The boys looked at each other. "The police took her into custody, but I think it's gonna be all right. She said she'd testify, and since she's only sixteen, they probably won't press charges."
"Where is she?"
"Right here," said a familiar voice from the doorway.
"We will wait outside," Hadji said instantly, standing. Jonny didn't argue, but he did add, before closing the door, "We'll wait *right* outside. Just yell if you need something, Jess, okay?"
"Okay," Jessie said, smiling. She looked at Charlie. The other girl looked a lot different. The over-sprayed hair was neatly combed; the make-up was subtle. Instead of tight jeans, heels, and crop top, she wore tight jeans, sneakers, and a "Melrose Place" T-shirt.
"You know, I'm sorry about all that stuff back there-- when I jumped you and all..." Charlie said, hesitantly.
" 'S okay. You did what you had to do."
"You nailed Matt-- he could have shot you."
"They were going to hurt my family."
"You could have gotten hurt! You almost got killed!"
"I did what *I* had to do."
Charlie thought about that. "Yeah. I guess so. We probably can't be friends, can we?"
"I dunno. Probably not. Um.... are you going home?"
For the first time, Charlie smiled. "Yeah. I talked to my mom last night. It's gonna be rough, admitting I was wrong. But... I think it's gonna be okay."
"I hope so, Charlie," Jessie said, genuinely happy.
"I'll be going, now. I know your family has a lot to say-- especially your dad."
Jessie sighed. "I know. He's probably going to talk to me for a *long* time."
"Well, good bye."
" 'Bye. Charlie... call me sometime, maybe. We'll go to the mall."
"I'll do that. Thanks for everything, Jessie." Charlie smiled again, and walked out. Race walked in past her.
"Hey, Jess."
"Hi, Dad."
"We need to have a talk."
"I know, Dad-- but it really wasn't my fault, this time! I should've paid more attention, and they wouldn't've gotten me in the first place, and I probably should've headed right home, instead of eavesdropping, but it still wasn't my fault. Not really," she added, seeing Race's blank look.
"Oh, no, Jess. Not about that. I meant-- about you, and me, and your mom, and the divorce."
"Dad, we had that talk already," Jessie said, uncomfortably.
"I know. But... maybe we need to have it again."
Jessie smiled. "Maybe we do. Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
"Love you, too, Jess."
Outside Jessie's room, Hadji and Jonny were sitting against the wall. "Whaddaya think they're talking about?"
"Father-daughter topics, I suppose."
"Probably mushy stuff."
"Probably."
Dr Quest walked up, looked at them, looked at the door. "They're finally talking?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Well, I imagine they'll be busy for a while. Let's get some dinner."
"Good idea," Jonny said.
"Wonderful idea," Hadji agreed, as they stood up.
"And I have the perfect dinner conversation," Dr Quest added.
"What?"
"That upgrade to QuestWorld."
"Oh."
"Um.... maybe we should wait until Jessie's up and around again, Dad."
"That would be tomorrow, I believe."
"So, how 'bout them NASA shuttles...?"
END
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NB: Motorised Renegade Ninja Croquet is, of course, a homage to Mr Watterson's Calvin & Hobbes.