Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.

28 March 2016: I am reposting this story. I had removed it to make some corrections.

Author's Note: This story can be considered a "prequel" if you will. While we know quite a bit about Doctor Quest, Jonny, and Hadji, we don't seem to know as much about the past of Race Bannon and more importantly how he came to know certain people. Goddess Evie inspired me to write this story through one of her reviews of a previous story. And thanks to ForeverWells for "encouraging" me to write another story! I just hope you readers enjoy! Thank you!

The Eleventh Hour

Chapter 1

Seated in front of the roaring fire, Jonny glanced out the window. The first snowfall of the year had started, quickly blanketing the Quest Compound with an aura of peaceful tranquility. The silhouette of the lighthouse where his father, the illustrious Doctor Benton Quest, was currently finishing up his latest Questworld upgrades stood in the distance as the ocean waves gently caressed the shores of the vast property.

Rubbing his eyes, Jonny set down his tablet. He'd been studying for an upcoming mathematics exam, but needed a break. Hearing footsteps, he watched as his bodyguard and mentor descended the wooden staircase. Race had recently returned from a short excursion and Jonny could tell from the look on Race's face that he had ended up meeting up with his mysterious and seductive acquaintance, Jade.

As Race took a seat, Jonny grinned at the man and asked, "So how was your trip, Race?"

Seeing the boy's mischievous grin, Race eyed the teen with a lighthearted look and replied, "Exhausting. I'm glad to be back."

"Exhausting? Yeah, I bet." Jonny joked.

"Watch it, kiddo." Race waggled a finger at the blonde.

"You know, Race, you've never told the story of how you and Jade met."

Sighing, Race replied, "And?"

"So, I'd be interested to know more about it. She's quite…unique."

"That she is, Jonny." Rubbing his hands over his face, Race glanced around the room. "Well, your dad's going to be in the lighthouse for some time I imagine."

"So let's hear it." Jonny prodded.

"It's a pretty interesting tale to say the least." Race said as his eyes wandered, gazing back into the past. "I actually haven't thought about that assignment in a very long time."

"So you were on an assignment with Jade?" Jonny asked.

Laughing Race shook his head. "Hardly, kiddo. The first time I laid eyes on her I assumed she was going to kill me."

"Oh really?" Jonny's eyes went wide with excitement.

"Yep and to this day I'm not quite sure I was entirely wrong in that assumption."

Settling in, Race recalled his tale for the young Quest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Walking through the halls of the Intelligence One Headquarters flooded Race with a mix of emotions. It had been over two years since he'd been back to the Washington D.C. building and from the random looks he got from his fellow agents he wasn't sure his return was entirely welcome.

After the botched mission in Greenland that had killed his partner Agent Greg Temple, Race had been reassigned to duty at the field office in Kansas City and a year later he had been transferred yet again to Chicago. While the official report had not found any fault with Race's actions in the death of Temple, he knew that some of the more veteran agents held him in contempt for what had happened. While he had been told that reassignment was routine, especially with the less experienced agents, deep down he knew that he was being punished, at least unofficially, for what had happened. Not only had I-1 lost one of its best agents that night, they had also lost the lead on Lucius Kreed's buyer, Doctor Zin.

Sighing inwardly, Race pushed the memories from his mind, determined to focus his attention on whatever had prompted his recall to D.C. He made his way to his Director's office and was told by the assistant to have a seat and wait. Race kept his features neutral as he gave the woman a curt nod and took a seat in one of the three chairs that occupied the small front office.

His eyes kept drifting towards the clock on the wall and even though he felt like he had been waiting for hours, only about ten minutes had passed before the assistant turned to him and said, "You can go in now, Agent Bannon."

"Thank you." Race replied as he stood. Moving towards the Director's office he wrapped his knuckles against the solid wooden door.

"Enter." A strong, but tired voice replied.

Inhaling one more deep breath, Race opened the door and walked in. The office was spacious, with a large oak desk occupying the far end where the large windows displayed a view of the nation's capital building. A small conference table jutted out at a perpendicular angle from the desk obviously intended for informal meetings when the larger conference room, through a door off to the left, was not necessary.

Seated behind the desk was Director Stephens, current head of Intelligence One. He was an older man, but still well built with a stern look set upon his angular features. Race knew the Director was planning to retire in a few years, and he could tell that while Stephens came across as a hardnosed superior, the pained look in the man's eyes said his years with the agency had taken their toll on him and retirement couldn't come soon enough.

Seated at the conference table was another man that Race knew of, but had never directly worked with, Agent Philip Corbin. Rumor around the agency was that Corbin was the man that was being groomed to replace Director Stephens and while he would be the youngest Director ever to hold the position, Race knew Corbin's ambition had propelled him through the ranks faster than his colleagues. Normally, a man with such determination and drive could be seen as a problem amongst his fellow agents, however from what Race knew of Corbin that was not the case. He was highly respected and well liked, both for his dedication to the agency and more importantly for his work in the field.

"Take a seat, Agent Bannon." The Director gestured towards the chair at the table directly across from Corbin.

Race nodded and did as he was told, feeling the gaze of the other agent on him the entire time. 'Probably sizing me up.' Race thought.

"You're probably wondering why you've been called here, Agent Bannon," The Director stated.

"I assume for an assignment, Sir." Race replied.

Nodding the Director inclined his head towards Corbin, "I don't think you two have formally met."

Race shook his head as he looked across the table at the other agent who, from the look on his face, had more information about this meeting than Race. Extending his hand across the table Race introduced himself, "Agent Race Bannon."

Taking his hand, Corbin returned his gesture and Race took note that his handshake was strong. "Agent Phil Corbin," He replied. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Likewise." Race said and left it at that.

"You two can get acquainted later," Stephens guffed, "let's get straight to the point. You are being reassigned, Agent Bannon. Agent Corbin here is your new partner for this assignment."

Race nodded and kept his emotions in check. It had been over six months since his last field assignment, so getting a chance to get out and prove himself once again brought that spark back into his chest that Race had been missing. "What's the assignment?"

Corbin slid a folder across the table to him and as Race opened it and began studying the documents, Corbin spoke, "We're going after a man named Vostok."

"A Russian, huh?" Race looked up briefly at the other man.

Nodding Corbin continued, "A former General in the Soviet Army turned criminal and rogue after the fall of the Berlin Wall. He has high level former KGB contacts as well as a group of loyalists from his military days. The word on the street is that Vostok is looking to procure some high tech weaponry that could be used to incite conflict between the sympathetic Russian populace and other major European countries."

"What kind of weaponry? Like a nuke?"

"Let's hope not," Corbin said as he rubbed his chin. "We don't think he has that capability at the moment. From what we've heard over the international chatter, he's looking to blow up some sort of mass transit system. You know how it is, high causality numbers and instant panic. He basically wants to make it look like his people are being attacked. His ultimate goal is to restore Russia to what he believes is its 'glory days' when the Soviet Union was at the height of its world power." Pausing momentarily, Corbin's face turned dark before he added, "The sick son of a bitch is willing to kill his fellow countrymen and women in order to satisfy his own personal agenda."

"A simple terrorist attack?" Race pondered. "So why us? Why isn't INTERPOL heading this?"

Corbin glanced at the Director before he continued, "We don't think it's as simple as just a terrorist attack. We believe Vostok is attempting to make contact with former Kazakhstan scientists that went into hiding when the Soviet Union collapsed. The same scientists that worked on the Soviet Union's bioweapons programs. We believe part of his plan is to make it look like the United States and possibly our European allies are behind the attack."

Race set his jaw as he took in the information. "He plans to set off a dirty bomb."

"If Vostok can succeed in setting off a biological weapon in a Russian or former Soviet Bloc region mass transit system and make it appear that his people are under attack, he can very well weasel his way back into the Kremlin." Corbin said. "Especially if he convinces the Russian people that we were behind the attack."

"And once there," Stephens threw in, "He'd be in control of all of Russia's military and intelligence personnel. He could very well start the war that we prevented during the Cold War."

"Do we know where he is?" Race asked as he scanned Vostok's dossier.

"Unfortunately, we do not." The Director replied.

"The last word we received from our contact in Warsaw," Corbin stated, "was that some of Vostok's men were spotted in Prague."

"I feel there is a 'but' coming." Race threw in grimly.

Corbin smirked at him, "However, we've lost contact with our agent in Poland. What we do know is there is a biodefense symposium taking place in Prague at the Aria Hotel later at the end of this week. It's highly probable that Vostok is planning to be there to at least make contact, if he hasn't done so already."

"What do we know about these scientists?" Race inquired, his mind settling in to absorbing the information and developing courses of action.

"The man we know of is Doctor Askar Arman of the former Soviet region of Kazakhstan. He's allegedly been in contact with Vostok's people. Arman was a lead researcher on the Soviet's biological weapons program dealing with agents ranging from Anthrax to Smallpox. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Arman and his colleagues went into hiding. Some have surfaced throughout the years in places such as Germany, North Korea, and even sanctuary countries such as Peru."

"And Doctor Arman has been sighted in The Czech Republic?" Race asked.

Corbin nodded, "As recently as last week. In addition to his expertise in bioweapons, he's fanatically obsessed with Renaissance period artwork. He's been making a lot of inquiries on pieces of art that made us suspicious."

"Suspicious about his income?" Race picked up.

"Right," Corbin replied. "A defunct Soviet scientist should not be raking in such large amounts of cash unless he's prostituting himself to the highest bidder."

"And we think Vostok is next on his list as a potential customer. Hence why we haven't nabbed him yet. Let Arman lead us to the bigger fish." Race concluded.

"Exactly." Phil smirked.

"So, that's why you two leave immediately." The Director said as he stood, causing Race and Phil to do the same. "Agent Corbin has all the details and can fill you in on the rest on the plane, Agent Bannon." Both men nodded back to the Director as they turned to leave. "Good luck, you two. I don't think I have to remind you of how important it is that we stop Vostok at all costs."

"Understood, Sir." Race replied then followed Agent Corbin out the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jade awoke to the ringing of her cell phone. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she glanced briefly at the clock on the nightstand next to her bed, it displayed the time as 03:47 A.M. 'This better be worth it.' She thought to herself as she answered the call.

"What is it?" She asked.

The voice on the other end was coarse. "I have a proposition for you, Miss Jade."

Recognizing the voice, she replied. "It better be worth the effort this time. Your last job was fairly unremarkable."

A short laugh bled through the phone, "Oh this will be. I'll pay you double your normal asking price."

Weary of such an offer, but not willing to pass up such a hefty payoff, Jade sat up, fully awake. "I'm listening."

"One of my associates will meet you at exactly 5 A.M. I will text you the location. You'll be given your instructions at that time. Bring me what I desire and your payment will be wired into whichever one of your accounts you choose. Do we have an agreement, Miss Jade?"

Already on her feet and moving, Jade replied, "Tell your man I'll be waiting." With that she hung up.

Striding towards the bathroom, Jade grinned at her sultry reflection in the mirror. "Time to go to work." she said aloud.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Shortly after takeoff Race settled in and began to read up on the I-1 packet that had been provided. Hearing the cockpit door open, Race lifted his eyes from the documents and watched as his new partner emerged from behind the door; besides the crew, the two agents were the only other people on the private I-1 jet.

Taking a seat across from Race, Corbin handed him a cup of coffee. Taking a sip he studied Race with a steely gaze. Finally setting the cup down, but keeping his hands wrapped around it, Corbin said, "So, you've probably got a lot of questions."

Race took a drink, then replied, "Sure, Agent Corbin. Reading over this packet,"

Corbin smirked as he raised a hand. "First off, even though I am the senior agent here, call me Phil. We have to drop the formalities right now so we don't slip up once we are on the ground. Second, and I think you know this, that's not what I meant." He gestured at the packet, waving it off.

Sighing, Race closed the folder, "Well, in that case, yeah I do have some questions."

"Shoot." Corbin said as he leaned back in his chair.

"Why me for starters?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Corbin replied. "Why not you? I assume you want to be back in the field, yes? Assigned more meaningful missions than you had in Kansas City or Chicago."

"I was growing tired of working drug stings that's for damn sure." Race studied the other man intently, but Corbin betrayed no signs of emotion. "But I assume you already know my history."

"Of course I do, Race." Phil's reply was even. "I wouldn't have requested you for this assignment without knowing a bit about the man that's going to have my back."

"So, what's your opinion?" Race narrowed his eyes as he watched the other man who appeared unfazed by Race's tension.

"Look, what happened in Greenland happened. I, for one, do not hold you responsible for Temple's death. We all know the risks that come with this profession." Corbin's reply sounded genuine enough. Continuing he said, "To be perfectly frank, I believe you got a raw deal and no one in the agency had the intestinal fortitude to come out and say it to your face."

"Really?" Race drawled.

"They railroaded you." Corbin stated. "Temple was a good agent, but he was also a loose cannon at times. Greenland wasn't the first time he'd found himself in a tight spot because he charged in without thinking. Unfortunately, that time it cost him his life. You were a rookie on your first field assignment. Of course they used you as the fall guy. But even with that hanging over your head you continued to perform admirably and well above most of your peers."

"You've been watching my career?" Race asked with a hint of suspicion. "Why such interest in me?"

Corbin shot the other man a smirk, "Stop being so damn defensive, Bannon. You're a good agent and you know it. You still hold the speed record for the training course three years later. The closest anyone's gotten to your time is almost a three minute difference. That alone makes you stand out. Add on to that your military background with the SEALs and your performance since the mission in Greenland and you've got unlimited potential. It's just no one wants to give you chance."

"No one but you." Race shot back.

"When I see potential and dedication, I utilize it," Phil said with another shrug. "Question my motives if you want, but your ass is here on this plane and not sitting in a crappy office in Chicago anymore."

Race took in his companion's words, "I guess I do owe you that. But what about you, Phil?"

"What about me?" Phil quipped.

"What's your game?"

Phil smiled as he downed the rest of his coffee, "I don't have a game."

"Everyone knows you have your eye on the Director position."

"So what? I have goals. I have ambition and any person that doesn't shouldn't be here. I abhor stagnation."

"Sometimes when a man is focused on one goal he loses sight of what's right in front of him."

"How poetic, Race." Phil joked. "Here's the thing. Director Stephens isn't going anywhere for another few years. If I get offered the position at that time, you're damn right I'll take it. But for now, my focus is on this mission. As it is on any mission I'm assigned. I requested you for this assignment because I know you have that same focus, more so than anyone else I'm willing to work with. Right now our priority is finding Vostok."

Race nodded. He liked Phil Corbin. The man was upfront and honest, no bullshit, and Race could work with that. Something told Race that the man sitting across from him would definitely be the Director of Intelligence One and sooner rather than later. He just hoped that they weren't already too late to stop Vostok.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"General, all is ready." The young Lieutenant stated with a sharp salute.

"Very good." General Vostok stood as a wicked smile spread across the man's lips. His sharp jaw line, accented by his thick, dark mustache and bald head gave the former Soviet Army General the appearance of strict authority. His men never questioned his orders and never crossed him. If they did, Vostok ensured they would meet with a very unfortunate end. "And what of our perspective target?"

"Our men are watching him closely, per your orders." The Lieutenant replied, his eyes staring straight ahead, not following the General as he moved across the small office.

"And the merchandise?" Vostok asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Loaded and secured."

"Very good, Lieutenant. Now, let us go and meet our friend Doctor Arman." Vostok laughed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After having waited for the designated time at the airport, Race made his way through the doors of the historic Ventana Hotel in the heart of Prague's Old Town. Before leaving, Corbin had instructed Race to meet him at the hotel after he had gotten himself checked in. The two men had parted ways at the airport as to not raise any possible suspicion. As Phil pointed out, at this point, they had to work off the assumption that foreign agents and Vostok's men were already in the city and watching. Agreeing with the other agent's assessment, Race had waited on the I-1 jet for two hours prior to making his way towards the heart of the city. During his wait, Race had taken the time to memorize as much of the assignment file as he could.

The Ventana Hotel was a blend of old world and new. The historic building sat in the shadow of the Tyn Cathedral as well as the Old Town Hall with its world renowned Astronomical Clock. Nodding his head with approval at I-1's willingness to splurge on their accommodations, Race made his way towards the counter. Greeted by a young Czech woman with long dark hair that matched her almond colored eyes, Race proceeded to check in.

After making his way to his suite, he took a quick shower and changed. Tucking his weapon into his small of the back holster, he grabbed his jacket and made his way towards the room where Corbin was staying. Knocking three times on the door, Race waited a few moments for his new partner to let him in.

"You ready for this?" Phil asked as he walked back into the room. Closing the door behind him, Race followed the other man into the large suite.

Taking a seat on the couch, Race replied, "Let's get down to business I say." His eyes took in all the gadgets and tech that were spread out on the coffee table between them; Phil had brought the items with him prior to departing from the airport. Seeing the detection device on the table, Race made the assumption the veteran agent had already swept the room for listening devices.

Corbin smiled as he sat down across from Race. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest and went over the initial plan. "We'll head out to Wenceslas Square where we'll meet up with our contacts here in the city. You've got the lead on this one, Race." He gestured at the ear implants on the table, "The ear piece fits perfectly, designed for both comfort and concealment. No one will be able to see it."

Race grinned and grabbed one of the devices from the table. Lodging the delicate instrument into his ear, Race nodded his approval. "What else have we got?"

Phil chuckled, "Everything we'll need. The microphone attaches to the inside of your collar and will pick up your voice at normal levels. They're engineered to filter out background noises as well."

Attaching the mic to his collar, Race felt a rush of excitement surge through his veins. The thrill of the field was back and it made him feel invigorated and alive once again.

Shaking his head, Phil smirked, "You look like a damn kid in a candy store."

"We didn't get this kind of tech busting up drug rings in the Midwest."

"I know." Phil replied as he put his own ear piece and mic into place.

"So who are we meeting up with?"

"Two of our international partners that are stationed here in Prague. They'll be disguised as tourists. In the middle of the afternoon, Wenceslas Square will be crawling with tourists and business people taking a midday break. For this meet the more people around the better, so we draw less attention to ourselves. You'll meet at the Southeast end near the Monument. I'll be providing over watch from the steps of the Czech National Museum. Too easy, right?"

Race smirked, "Yeah, too easy."

Phil stood, gathering up the equipment from the table he quickly stashed it away. Slipping on a jacket and grabbing his sunglasses he smiled at Race, "Then let's get to work."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

To Be Continued...