DISCLAIMER: Jonny Quest is a trademarked property belonging to Hanna Barbera. I do not own or claim rights to any of the characters that are part of that property.

For those of you who have read my story Mistaken Identity (which can be found in the He-Man section as it is a JQ/MotU crossover), I want to let you know in advance, this is not taking place in the same universe. Many of my basic assumptions about the Quests and their lives are similar, but there will be no crossover in this story.

For those of you who just like Jonny Quest, let me give you a bit of info. In my stories, you may assume that all of the classic series occurred and that most of The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest will also take place. (This tale takes place between those time frames, when Jonny is 12). I have disregarded the alien episodes and the entire existence of Alice Starseer.

Just a few basic hints: from info in both series, I have deduced that Jonny is two years younger than Hadji, so since Jonny is twelve in this tale, Hadji is fourteen. I've seen no hard data concerning Jessie's age, but I've taken my cue from a number of other fic writers in placing her almost exactly between the boys in age. I think of Benton as looking like he did in the original series rather than the tall-ish stout, brown-haired fellow who started out The Real Adventures, so we're looking at a short, slender redhead.

I hope you enjoy this story whether you've watched Jonny Quest or not, and I love to get feedback from my readers. Please tell me what you think. :)

Chapter 1: Movie Night

Benton poured the popcorn out of the popper into a large bowl and laced it generously with butter and salt. Putting it on the tray with the licorice whips and a bag of M&Ms, he carried it into the living room. He'd wait to get the mugs for the root beer out of the freezer until Jonny came down. It had been a long, hard semester at school for Jonny, and they were celebrating his stellar report card with a private movie festival.

Hadji had taken his finals early this year, and then gone to a summer institute for Indian culture. It was more of a summer camp for second and third generation Indian kids, but Hadji found it refreshing to spend time with people who had similar experiences to his. Race and Jessie had taken off from the airstrip around noon so that Jessie could visit her mother at her current dig site. As a result, he and Jonny had the house to themselves, which was a rare enough occurrence that it, too, merited a celebration. Well, they had it to themselves except for Bandit. The little mutt pranced around his feet, obviously hoping for his share of the treat.

He set the tray down on the coffee table, tossed a few kernels of popcorn to Bandit and flopped down on the couch, stretching wearily. It hadn't been the easiest spring for him, either. He'd finally finished his analysis of current trends in illicit weapons and turned it over to I-1. Phil Corvin had tried to give him another assignment immediately, but he'd begged off. He needed a break. Resting his head on the back of the couch, he closed his eyes and contemplated a month off.

With an an odd buzzing sound, the lights went out. Benton sat up and looked around in surprise. A power outage? How odd. . . Then he noticed that the screen of the television was glowing slightly, and there was a faint light emanating from the kitchen door. He stood up and went to look. The flourescent tubes in the light fixtures were also glowing. An EM pulse? He could smell a faint odor of burning plastic and there was smoke wisping out of the electrical outlets.

"IRIS?" he said hopefully, but as he expected he received no response. If the pulse had been powerful enough to melt the wiring in the walls, the security systems wouldn't come back online. They'd installed defenses against low level EMPs, but not against anything this strong.

The sound of shattering glass filled the living room, causing Benton to leap forward through the kitchen toward the back door. There was a handgun in a drawer by the door.

The door opened as he approached, and a black-clad figure walked in, holding a semi-automatic machine gun leveled in his direction. Benton stopped. The man had white hair with twin black streaks at his temples and piercing blue eyes. "Good afternoon, Dr. Quest," he said in a resonant baritone. Bandit skittered through the kitchen and out the door. Benton was glad to see that the man paid the dog no attention.

Footsteps behind him told him that there would be no retreat in that direction. "Good afternoon," Benton said calmly. "I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced."

"All in good time, Dr. Quest, all in good time." His eyes flicked to the men behind Benton. "Tie his hands, boys."

Benton submitted to the indignity without changing expression, devoutly hoping that Jonny would get away.

Jonny was just pulling his shirt over his head when the lights went out. After Jessie and Race had left, he'd gone swimming, reveling in the freedom from Jessie's caustic comments. He was really looking forward to having his father and Race to himself again for a while. It wasn't that he didn't love Hadji, or even like Jessie when she wasn't being a brat, but he sometimes missed the way things used to be. He went over to turn off his cd player, but stopped when he saw that it was smoking slightly. This wasn't an ordinary power outage. He had to find his dad.

He was halfway to the stairs when he heard the windows in the living room breaking. He stopped, and moved more quietly to the stairs to peer down. When he got a look, he flung himself backwards. There were men and women in black uniforms climbing the steps, carrying automatic weapons. He turned and ran back into his room, threw the window open and started scrambling down the drainpipe that was attached to the wall next to it.

Looking down between his legs, however, he saw the side door of the house open and reversed his direction. Alright, going up, he thought. If he could make the roof before anyone saw him, maybe they wouldn't think to look for him there. He risked a glance down and saw that no one was looking up. This could work. This could really work, he thought.

The window next to him opened suddenly, startling him. His grip on the drainpipe slipped, and he slid a few feet down the wall, causing his heart to race. After a second, he started upwards again. As he came alongside his bedroom window, a man reached out and tried to grab him. He kicked out at the man's arm, but the force with which he struck the man's shoulder jarred Jonny's grip loose from the drainpipe and he fell.

The boxwood hedge broke his fall, but he felt a ripping pain in his left leg. A blond woman came over to his side and reached down to take his arm. "Hey, kid, it didn't have to be this hard," she said as she started to drag him to his feet. "Shit!" she exclaimed. "He's bleeding."

Jonny looked down at his leg and saw that his jeans were ripped open and there was a huge gash in his leg that bled freely. He gulped and clenched his teeth against the pain. One of the bigger guys lifted him off the ground and carried him toward the back door into the kitchen. He heard angry voices behind him.

"Who knocked the kid off the wall?" That was the woman who'd tried to pull him to his feet.

"He knocked himself off the wall! He kicked Stevens and -" Jonny noticed a blackness around the edges of his vision that abruptly swooped in and took his awareness away.

Benton fumed. Here he was, sitting in his own living room, hands tied behind his back, while the young people who were holding him prisoner ate his popcorn and popped M&Ms. He suspected that the white-haired man was waiting for others of his minions to find Jonny. His son was very resourceful, but there were limits to what a twelve-year-old could do against a crowd of machine gun toting twerps.

There was a sudden commotion in the kitchen, and he noticed that the people around him were looking nervously at the door. He stood up and walked purposefully toward the kitchen, preparing to shoulder the swinging door open. A young man with close-cropped brown hair stood and blocked his path. "I'm sorry, sir. You are supposed to stay in here."

"Well, then, young man," Benton said in a reasonable tone, "why don't you find out what's going on in there?" The boy knit his eyebrows, but he gestured for Benton to seat himself again. When he did so, the boy nodded at one of the others, then turned away and walked into the kitchen.

While the door was open, he heard the older man's voice raised in fury. ". . .let the boy get hurt!" Benton surged to his feet as the door swung shut. Two of the other young people leapt up and seized him by the arms.

"Let me go!" he exclaimed, struggling.

"Please, sir," said the girl who held his right arm. "We have our instructions."

He brought his foot down sharply on her instep and threw his shoulder into the boy's midsection, then launched himself toward the kitchen door. All six of them converged on him, but he kept struggling. A moment later, the door slammed open and the leader stepped through.

"What the devil is going on in here?" he barked in irate tones.

"What happened to my son?" Benton demanded, leaning toward him against the restraining hands.

"Damn!" The white-haired man shook his head. "Bring him in here."

All but two of them released him, and they proceeded into the kitchen. Jonny lay unconscious on the table with the left leg of his jeans cut completely away. Blood from an enormous gash on the outside of his thigh pooled on the wood of the table. Benton wrenched away from the hands that restrained him and ran to his son's side, frustrated by the bonds on his wrists that kept him from touching the boy.

"What happened?" he asked, glaring at them all.

"I'm told he tired to climb to the roof," the leader said. "Somehow he lost his grip and fell into the boxwood hedge."

Jonny's face was pale, and, even unconscious, there was a crease of pain between his eyebrows. A dark-haired woman knelt beside the table, carefully stitching the wound closed.

He raised a brow angrily. "Somehow?" Benton asked, a dangerous tone in his voice. "Would you care to explain that?"

"I haven't gotten a clear accounting yet," the man said, grimacing. "I'm sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I'm very glad to hear it," Benton said, his eyes narrowing. "Would you please untie me?"

The man shook his head. "Once we're on the plane, Dr. Quest." Benton raised an eyebrow, and the man shrugged, having the grace to look embarrassed. "You must understand, I don't want to take any chance that you will act the fool. We're all much safer if you remain bound."

"Jonny isn't, evidently," Benton spat. The man flinched.

"That was not my intention, Dr. Quest. The one who caused this will be punished, I assure you."

"I'm sure Jonny will find that very comforting."

Jonny stirred, moaning softly. "Dad?" he said in a weak voice.

Dropping his anger for the moment, Benton bent over his son. "I'm here, Jonny."

"Are we captured?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Nuts." Jonny opened his eyes and looked down at his leg. "It's the beginning of summer!" he groaned. "Wait!" He tried to sit up, but one of the guards held him down. Benton glared at the man, but he was powerless to stop him. "Where's Bandit?" Jonny demanded. "What have you done with my dog?"

"Your dog is fine, boy," the man said. "No one intends to harm your dog." Benton glowered at the leader, reflecting that, according to him, no one had intended to hurt Jonny either.

"You'd better not!" Jonny declared, glaring at him.

"You see, your son will be fine," the leader of the invaders said. "He's got spirit." Benton threw him a venomous glance, and Jonny looked back and forth between them, clearly aware of the undertones. For once, he remained silent.

The medic tied off the last stitch and stood up. "Pardon me, Dr. Quest, but is Jonathon allergic to any analgesics or antibiotics?"

"No, he's not," Benton replied, surprised by the question.

"Good." She pulled a syringe out of her medical kit. "Has he ever had morphine?"

"Yes."

"Good." She bent to inject him, but Jonny sidled away, up against his father.

"Hey! Dad?"

"Let me see that," Benton asked firmly. The woman paused and looked toward her boss, who shrugged.

"It's just morphine, sir," she said, holding out the syringe so she could see the label. He looked down at Jonny, whose teeth were gritted with pain. He didn't have much choice. He nodded, and the woman injected the drug into Jonny's arm. When she was done, Jonny pulled himself into a sitting position and put his arms around his father's waist, leaning against him. Benton glared at the white-haired man.

"Now what?"

"We wait."

The medic disappeared for a few moments and came back with a blanket which she wrapped around Jonny. Benton wondered what they were waiting for.

A red-headed girl came into the kitchen from outside, her rifle slung over her shoulder, carrying Bandit in her arms. The dog was limp, but conscious, and she was stroking his head with one finger. "Here's the dog, sir," she said to the leader.

"Bandit!" Jonny exclaimed, trying to pull free. Benton held on to him firmly. "What did you do to him?"

"He's just sleepy," the girl explained, smiling at Jonny. "I gave him the same tranquilizer I give my dog when we fly. He'll be fine." She looked at Jonny's leg, her lips pursed sympathetically. "Is it alright if I let him hold the dog?" she asked.

"Not now," the medic said. "Let's wait until he's properly dressed again." The girl nodded and took Bandit out again.

Benton was beginning to wonder where all these polite and photogenic young people were coming from as a young man ran into the house and said, "The boat is ready, sir."

"Good," the leader said, nodding sharply. "Stiles, you take young Mr. Quest."

A very large man bent and reached out for Jonny. His son cringed against his chest, and Benton glared at the leader. "You could let me carry him. That would immobilize me quite effectively."

"Oh, come on, Dr. Quest," said the large fellow, smiling encouragingly. "I wouldn't hurt him. He's my little brother's age." He beamed down at Jonny. "I'll bet you like Pokemon."

Jonny gave his father a desperate look, drawing even closer. "Dad?"

"Please?" Benton asked, letting a pleading note enter his voice. "Can I carry him? You have enough people to surround us easily."

"Very well, Dr. Quest," the man said, favoring him with a stern look. "But don't do anything your son will regret."

As they untied his wrists, Benton considered running for the door and going for help, but he couldn't leave Jonny in this condition. Instead, he bent and gently gathered him up in his arms. He was quite an armful, these days. Surrounded by the crowd of young men and women, he followed the white-haired man down to the beach where a boat waited. He walked up the ramp and took one look behind him at the house, wondering how Race was going to react when he returned tomorrow.

The boat's engine was, of course, diesel, which was why it still worked even after the EM pulse. Benton was led by a smiling young woman, carrying a rifle, to a small cabin with a bed, a chair and a table. On the floor was their dog carrier in which Bandit lay, snoring peacefully. Benton reflected ironically that this was probably the first time the device had been used. He lay Jonny down on the bed as gently as he could while the young woman demonstrated the facilities for him. Before she left, she told him that a snack would be brought in for them once they were underway.

"Oh," she said just before she left. "Neither of you is subject to seasickness, are you?"

"No," Benton replied. She smiled, then closed the door and locked it. Who are these people?

"Dad?" Jonny said after a few moments. "Do you know where we're going?"

"No, I don't."

"I'm sorry I got caught," he said.

"It's okay, Jonny. They caught me first, after all." When the soft sound of snores was the boy's only response, Benton sighed and sat down on the chair. Race wouldn't likely even know they were missing until he got back. Lord only knew where they'd be by then.