Chapter 2
"Race, you ready? Everyone is assembled."
Race turned to see Corbin walking towards him. He had just taken a break to grab a cup of coffee and was heading back to his office when his friend called out to him. Frustration was evident on the Director's face; it was the same frustration the entire organization, including Race and Doctor Quest and the rest of the Quest family had felt since leaving Pennsylvania. Race hoped this new information with the biker gang would prove to be the lead they needed.
Phil motioned passed Race towards the set of double doors. Falling in step with Phil, the two men headed down the passageway to the main operations center. The end of the hallway held another set of double doors. They were thick, with signs that read: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. NO UNAUTHORIZED ELECTRONIC DEVICES ALLOWED. PROPER CLEARANCE AND AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED FOR ENTRY.
Race placed his cell phone in a lockbox along the wall as Phil did the same; however the Director did keep his Classified cell phone. Once their items were secured, Phil swiped his badge through the reader then punched in his designated code; the microchip inside the card combined with the code would authorize entry and the system would log the entrance. As the light on the reader changed from red to green, Race heard the doors unlock and the pair entered the heart of Intelligence One's Global Operations Center.
The doors opened up at the top level of the operations center, a catwalk like landing that overlooked the activity on the floor below. The room was huge, three rows of workstations filled the center of the floor and each row had enough stations for twenty personnel and each workstation served a different purpose. On the far wall from where they entered was banks of flat screen monitors with one gigantic display in the center. Currently the display showed a digitized map of the world and Race knew that the indicators on the map annotated locations of active Agents that were currently working in support of any number of I-1 operations. At times, the display could be changed to show a satellite imagery or even live stream feed from body cameras worn by Agents. The other monitors displayed a mix of maps, data streams of information and one even was currently in a split screen mode broadcasting news programs from around the world.
While the bullpen they had just left was almost deserted as Agents made their way to work or just left from working overnight shifts, the Global Operations Center was the exact opposite. Almost every workstation was occupied as personnel worked fervently on their tasks related to whatever current operation they were assigned. There was a constant buzz that filled the room, a combination of voices and equipment. There was no windows and the lighting was low as compared to the other areas of the building, better to see the displays on the wall and the individual work station monitors. The temperature in the room was slightly cool, but not unpleasant; it was necessary to keep the room at a lower temperature than normal to prevent the overheating of the plethora of equipment throughout the center.
Race knew that at any given time there was at least two dozen active operations I-1 was involved in, either as the lead Agency or in a support role, and each and every one was monitored twenty-four hours a day seven days a week from this room. An Agent in the field was rarely without support from back home; a system that Corbin had incorporated into Intelligence One's mission set once he was promoted to the Director position. Race, having been a part of the very operation that had prompted Phil to develop the plan once he was in charge, supported the concept one-hundred percent. Just like in the military, Intelligence One left no one behind.
Straight ahead stairs led down to the floor while to the right of the entry doors, on the raised platform, was a row of three offices; one for the shift's Head Agent, one served as a conference room for private secured teleconferences, both telephonic and VTC, and the third was Phil's second office. The far end of the walkway had another set of stairs. Entry and exit doors were also located below on the main floor.
Roberts was standing outside of Phil's office, waiting on the duo. When they approached, he reported, "The team is assembled, Sir."
"Good." Phil nodded.
Roberts handed a folder marked Top Secret to each man. Opening it and looking inside, Race scanned the details of their target.
"Thanks, Sharpshooter." Race smiled.
Terry frowned at the name; Race had started calling him 'Sharpshooter' as a term of endearment after the gas station shootout and much to Roberts' initial annoyance the name stuck. Even other Agents within the Agency had started to call him by his new moniker.
"Ugh," Terry rolled his eyes. "Don't call me that." He really didn't mind the name; he actually looked at it like he finally belonged now that Race Bannon had tagged him with the term of endearment. However, he wasn't about to let Bannon know that.
"We can't all have a catchy nickname like mine." Race laughed back at his friend.
"Modesty isn't one of your virtues, Roger." Terry stated.
"Focus, Gentlemen." Phil said as they headed for the conference room, but Race saw the little smile on his friend's face. To Corbin, there was a place for fun and games, but his Global Operations Center was not that place.
Race patted Terry on the shoulder as they entered the secured room. Taking a seat the conference table, Race studied the screen in front of him. It had taken longer than he would have liked, almost another week, but the I-1 team was finally able to track down the biker Benjamin Hanson.
Assembled at the table was a handful of Intelligence One's best Agents. Besides Race, Phil, and Terry, the team included some from the previous operation; Karla Altine, Matt Velk, Peter Dugger, and Eric Brooks. Race knew that the rest of the Agents that assisted in Pennsylvania had been reassigned to other active missions. Already familiar with Phil and Terry, Race had taken the time to learn about the rest of those that Corbin hand selected to continue with the mission and Race knew that every person at the table was fully dedicated to rescuing Jonny. He just hoped that their combined efforts would lead to the young man sooner rather than later; Race couldn't stand the idea that Jonny was out there somewhere, yet Race had no idea where. But he knew, no matter what, the Agents that surrounded him would give everything they had to finding Jonny and bring him home. He'd been too late once and Race vowed not to allow that to happen a second time.
As soon as Phil and Terry sat down Race turned his attention to one of the LED monitors mounted on the wall. The mug shot, the same as the one in the folder, that stared back at him was of a hardened criminal and gang member. At thirty-two years old, Benjamin Hanson had already spent a good portion of his adult life behind bars. When he wasn't locked up, he was busy committing his next set of crimes. A white male, Hanson sported a shaved head, a thick goatee and deep-set eyes. His nose was crooked, probably from being broken in any number of fights and he was marked with face, head, and neck tattoos.
"Another stand up fucking citizen right here." Race said as he waved at the screen. "What do we know?"
Velk spoke up. "It took us some time to track him down because he was holed up in Canada for the last month or so. The RCMP had eyes on him and were getting ready to make their move on him for running drugs across the border."
"I was able to convince the RCMP Commander in Montreal not to make the arrest and allow him to return to U.S. soil so we could have a shot at him." Corbin interjected.
"How'd you manage that?" Race asked.
"It seems that Doctor Quest has quite a few friends north of the border, to include the RCMP Commander himself." Phil said. "So when he heard we needed to bring in Hanson for questioning in relation to Jonny's disappearance he was more than happy to give up his collar."
Race asked his next question. "Where's Hanson now?"
"Back in Maryland." Velk stated. "The biker bar was pretty much shut down while Hanson and his crew rode up north, but now that they are back, it appears they've resumed their criminal operations in Baltimore. From what we can tell, they run the transportation piece of the smuggling operation from The Spot and an office at the east docks."
Phil continued, "The problem with Hanson is that he's no pushover. He'll gladly do time rather than sell out. He's dangerous too. He was arrested five years ago as a suspect in the killings of two FBI agents and three Baltimore cops. They had been held and tortured for days before being shot execution style and their bodies dumped in the Inner Harbor. Unfortunately, nothing stuck because the key witness, one of his own gang members that turned state's evidence, also wound up dead."
"So what do you want to do?" Race asked the Director.
Phil nodded at Velk to continue. "Hanson, like most of these scumbags, has a soft spot for women. In Hanson's case, he likes Hispanic women."
All eyes turned to Karla.
Eyes widening, the newest I-1 Agent found herself at a loss for words. "Sir?" She finally managed to mumble when she couldn't think of anything else to say.
"If we raid the bar and arrest him outright, Hanson won't talk." Race stated. "But we can go in undercover and maybe you, Karla, can get him talking so the moment he says anything incriminating we can move in and take him."
"I've never worked undercover before." She stammered in response.
Terry flushed, "I don't like it, Sir. It's too dangerous."
Everyone in the room knew that Terry and Karla had just started dating and Terry's statement was a testament to his feelings for the woman and his desire to keep her safe. While Roberts spent most of his time as a communications specialist and liaison, spending so many years as Corbin's linguist and driver had exposed the man to the very real dangers of I-1 operations.
Turning to look at Corbin, Karla stated, "I'll do it, Sir. I just need a little…training, I suppose."
"We aren't sending you in alone, Karla." Phil spoke to alleviate both her own apprehensions and Terry's fears.
"I'll be in the bar as well." Race stated.
"What about the rest of us?" Velk asked.
"Using the same intercept software that Hadji employed on the Jaguar Club's security cameras, we'll tap into The Spot's surveillance cameras." Race answered.
"I don't want either of you wired," Corbin stated. "But you can wear inset ear pieces so we can at least talk to you. If we can get Hanson to talk either Race or Karla will give a predetermined signal and the rest of us will move in and secure the scene. We'll be in the surveillance van outside."
"We'll move up to Baltimore here shortly and set up at the La Quinta down the road from the bar." Race explained.
"Brooks," Phil pointed at his man and said, "Head up that way now. Find Hanson and shadow him. If he goes to the bar we move on him tonight. If not, we readjust and hit the office at the docks in a straight out raid. Either way, we're taking one or the other tonight."
"Got it, boss." Brooks, a wiry African American man that previously served as a scout platoon commander in the Marines, stood and headed out.
"There's just one other thing." Race stated after Brooks shut the door. "If I'm going in undercover as a biker, I need a bike." He turned his gaze to Dugger and the Cajun rolled his eyes in response.
"You want a biker, then it should be me going in with Karla, not Bannon." Dugger remarked.
Phil shook his head, "You're still on recovery from that blow to the head you took from the falling concrete during the plant shootout."
Dugger grumbled and pointed at Race. "He got shot!"
Race laughed, he knew the big Cajun wasn't being malicious, he just wanted in on the action.
"Race's gut, surprisingly, is harder than your head." Phil joked. "Let him use your bike, Pete. We don't have any available in the inventory at the moment and it'll take too long to get one from another Agency."
"Fine." Dugger grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Bannon, I swear, if you scratch my girl I'm going to pound that white headed noggin of yours into pulp. God help you if you drop her!"
"Relax, Pete." Race replied. "I'll treat her like a proper lady."
"Let's get to work." Phil announced as he stood. "You two can sweet talk each other when we're done and have Hanson in custody. Race, go make yourself look like a biker while the rest of us gather up the necessary equipment. Be ready to go in an hour."
Everyone nodded and stood and as each team member left, Terry hung back and placed a hand on Karla's arm. Looking around cautiously, he saw that Corbin and Velk were still lingering just outside the room.
Even though they had only been dating a very short time, Karla recognized the look on Terry's face.
She smiled nervously, "No me mires con esa carita. Me pones nerviosa cuando me miras asi."
Terry sighed in frustration, "Como rayos quieres que te vea, Karla. Esto no me gusta para nada. No quiero que lo hagas."
"No te preocupes, no estoy sola," Karla replied trying to appease his fears.
"De toda maneras," he shook his head.
Grabbing his hand, she squeezed gently, "Ahora soy parte de este equipo y si esta es la manera en que puedo ayudar...tu sabes que esto es lo que tengo que hacer para ayudar a Jonny. Por favor, Terry confia en mi. Todo va a salir bien."
"Confio en ti," Terry answered with a smile that appeased her. "Pero todavia me preocupa lo que vas hacer!"
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a peck on the cheek and beamed, "Y por eso estoy perdidamente enamorada de ti."
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A ringing pulled Jessie from her thoughts. Moving from the window seat where she had perched herself almost every day she walked over to her bed and picked up the ringing cell phone. She was receiving a video call from her father.
Putting on her best face, she answered the call as she took the phone back to the window and sat down. "Hi, dad." She said when her father's face appeared on the screen.
"Hey, Ponchita. How are you?"
Jessie saw the concerned look on her father's face and she assumed he could tell she had been crying. Instead of answering truthfully, she simply replied, "I'm okay. Any news on Jonny?"
"We're following a lead right now, hon." Race answered. "Hopefully we'll have more answers later tonight."
"What's the lead?" She asked.
Race shook his head, "Just another scumbag that needs his head knocked in. But I'm hopeful we can squeeze him for some more information."
"Is it dangerous?" Jessie asked. She could see people moving around in the background behind her father and she saw Director Corbin and the big Cajun man, she couldn't remember his name, putting on thin bulletproof vests, the kind police officers wore, over their t-shirts before putting their regular shirts back on. Looking at what she could see of her dad's upper body on the screen, it didn't appear he was wearing any armor.
"Don't worry about that, Ponchita. You know these Agents are the best. I really called because I wanted to see how you've been holding up."
Jessie sighed, "One day at a time." She wished she was with her dad, she needed his love and support. The rest of the family was helping as best as they could, but Jessie had always been her daddy's little girl and she wanted nothing more than to cry into his shoulder while he told her everything would be alright.
"You're strong, Jess, stronger than I've ever been." Race said encouragingly. "I need you to keep being strong, for yourself and for Jonny. Benton and Hadji need your support too. But don't forget that they are there to support you as well, hon."
"I know, dad." Jessie smiled. Just hearing her father's loving words was helping.
"How's your mother?"
Jessie huffed and rolled her eyes. "Smothering."
"Jess, she doing that out of love. You know that." Race offered.
"I know."
"Give her a chance, Jess. She's your mother. She loves you and her behavior is just her way of showing that love. Don't shut her out, sweetheart."
"Okay." Jessie replied sheepishly.
"Promise?" He prodded as he raised an eyebrow at her and shot her a lopsided grin. The look almost made her break down in tears, Jonny used to give her a similar look.
"I promise." She finally answered.
Jessie heard someone in the background call out to her dad, causing him to look over his shoulder and nod. Turning back he said, "I gotta go, Jess. Just know I love you and I'll talk to you soon, okay?"
"I love you too, dad." Jessie said then added, "Be safe, all of you, and bring Jonny back to us."
"I will, Ponchita. I promise, I will." Giving her one last smile, he ended the call.
Jessie exhaled while cradling the phone in her hand. She sat there for a few minutes, then decided she needed to get out. She needed some fresh air and the cool ocean breeze and the scent of the salt water always worked to calm her mind. Heading out of her room, she went to find Hadji and see if her other best friend wanted to join her for an evening stroll along the beach.
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"How is he progressing, Mister Temple?"
Kreed was seated at the table in the rear portion of his tent. Twirling the glass that he held loosely in his hand, he sniffed the liquid, then threw the scotch back in one gulp. Temple stood near the divider, watching the Englishman with a look of distaste. Temple considered himself a soldier, a fighter, and he disapproved of Kreed's extravagant lifestyle when they were supposed to be working. However, Lucius Kreed was a man that got results, so the board, and by extension Temple, tolerated his outlandish idiosyncrasies for the good of The Consortium.
"He's ready, Lucius." Temple responded.
"Are you sure? Young Jonathan has given you quite a bit of resistance since we brought him into our little family."
"I said he's ready." Temple responded with a grunt.
"If you say so, Gregory." Kreed answered dismissively.
Before Temple could rebut, the monitor in front of Kreed beeped, indicating an incoming VTC call. From the tone, Temple knew it was the conference call they'd been waiting on. Moving to stand next to his partner, Temple crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up to make his muscles bulge.
Kreed answered the call and a moment later, their faces appeared on the bottom right hand side of the screen, reflected back by the camera imbedded in the monitor. The other three fields of the quad chart were filled with the faces of the other board members.
"Status report, Mister Kreed." The first voice spoke, getting right to the point.
"We are on schedule. The boys are ready to begin their training in the morning." Kreed answered with confidence.
"The Quest boy as well?" The same man asked.
"Of course." Kreed replied with a wave of his hand.
"He's ready." Temple threw in. "I'm training him myself."
"Is that so?" The female in the top left quadrant replied.
"It is," Temple responded, not liking the woman's tone. "And because I'm training him, he stays with me."
Kreed shot the big man a look, they hadn't discussed that.
"What makes you think you get to keep him, Mister Temple?" The first man asked.
"He's mine." Temple replied. "You can have the others. You want me to conduct these upcoming missions? Fine. I will, but I take the Quest kid with me."
"Your little protégé." The man in the bottom left spoke up for the first time. "You aren't much different than Bannon and Intelligence One, are you? Molding these young men and women into efficient operators…killers."
"Watch your tongue, Grimm." Temple shot back as he uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists. "Or else I'll rip it from your disgusting face."
"Silence." The first man barked, causing everyone to flinch, but they all obeyed. "Do not forget who is in charge here."
"We are all equal partners, Sir." Kreed stated. His annoyance with Temple's gruff outburst seeping into his words.
"Perhaps," The first man replied, but then changed the subject. "Mister Temple, you can keep the Quest boy for your first mission, but you are running out of time. We may only have a month before you need to act, six weeks at the most."
"We'll be ready." Temple stated and crossed his arms over his chest again.
"See that you are. As for the rest of you, what do we know about Doctor Quest and the Intelligence One investigation?"
"Quest is broken." The female replied. "He's back home and burying himself in his work. From what we can tell, he hasn't communicated with Race Bannon since they separated after the plant raid."
"And Bannon himself?"
"Working with I-1," The man called Grimm replied. "We are still working to infiltrate the I-1 network so I do not know exactly what they are doing."
"Why can you not break their system?" Kreed questioned.
"This is Intelligence One, Lucius. It's not that easy to hack that system. It takes time and if you want the most accurate information, then I have to hack into the Director's database. Corbin's system is the most protected within the Agency. That man has files on every active operation that I-1 is working, not just the search for Jonny Quest. If I can hack into it, we can effectively cripple the Agency. We don't have to kill Director Corbin, we can effectively eliminate him if we breach his system and leak his secrets."
"Where's the fun in that?" Temple huffed, his hatred for his former colleagues was well known amongst the board. "I'd rather put a bullet in that man's head. Him and Bannon both."
Grimm made a grunting sound in response to Temple.
"What?" Temple asked when he heard the man's response. "I kind of figured you'd like to do the same, Grimm."
"You will do no such thing, either of you." The woman ordered. "You kill either of those two men prematurely and the entire U.S. Government will hunt us down like animals. Be patient and wait for the right opportunity."
"Enough." The first man interrupted. "This conversation has gone on too long. Keep working the I-1 breach and do not go after Doctor Quest, Bannon or Corbin at this time. Mister Temple, be ready for your next assignment. We will speak again at the next conference."
With that, the connection ended.
Temple snorted as he headed towards the divider, he was in no mood to stay and continue to speak with Kreed. But when the Englishman spoke, Temple stopped.
"That was quite brazen, Mister Temple. You should tread carefully."
"Why? Because some faces on a computer monitor tell me to? Get real, Kreed. We don't need them, we never did."
"Without them The Consortium would crumble."
Temple huffed, he knew Kreed was right. Smiling at the American, Kreed added, "Just relax and concentrate on the training and then the next mission."
"Do you know what it is yet?"
Kreed shook his head, "No, but we will be informed soon enough. In the meantime, I have a number of important calls to make this evening."
Temple scowled as Kreed turned his back, effectively dismissing Greg. With a grunt, Temple brushed the divider aside and headed through the far side of the tent and out into the dry, yet still hot night.
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"How's you dad doing, Hadj?" Jessie asked as the two friends sat upon the cliffs, overlooking the sea, the sun making its final descend at their backs.
"He is making due as best he can, Jessie." Hadji answered.
Taking his hand in hers, Jessie gave it a comforting squeeze. "I should speak with him. I've been so consumed with my own feelings that I've forgotten how much everyone has been affected by all of this."
"Your own feelings are important as well," Hadji replied. "You should not keep them bottled up inside. You know you can speak to me about anything, Jessie, anything."
Jessie sighed, Hadji's logic always helped to settle her scattered thoughts. "I know, Hadji. I just don't know if I'm ready to discuss what happened. It's still too real, too raw," lowering her voice she added, "and painful."
"I do not know what those men did to you or my brother, but know that I will never judge you for what happened."
Jessie turned her gaze towards him and she saw the truth in his deep, brown eyes. "Thank you, Hadji." She breathed.
"Of course, that is what friends are for." Hadji patted her hand gently.
Jessie shook her head, "No, Hadji, that's what family is for."
Smiling, Hadji nodded. They let the silence take over as the sun warmed their backs. After a long interlude, Hadji asked, "So did you speak to your father today?"
Jessie smiled inwardly, how did Hadji always know? "I did."
"No progress I assume since my father hasn't heard anything."
"Dad and some other Agents are working on a lead. From what I could tell, they were preparing for a raid or some type of operation. He sounded hopeful that they could get some answers. You know Hadji, I really never stopped to think about the dangers that seem to consume our lives. At least not until those dangers are thrown right in our faces. I have no idea where Jonny is and what he's going through. And now my dad is back to his old ways and hunting down the bad guys. Watching it from the outside it all feels so surreal."
"Your father is the best. You know that."
"I know." Jessie smiled, the Bannon pride, the pride she thought the traffickers had robbed her of, was returning.
"But for all the dangers and excitements, I sometimes wish for a normal life." Jessie confessed after a brief pause. "I told Jonny as much before this whole thing happened. I want him back so bad so we can have that normal life together. So we can go someplace where no one knows the names Quest or Bannon."
"Jonny will come back to us, Jessie." Hadji spoke, his tone reassuring. "You have not lost him. He is my brother. I know him and I know he is out there and no matter what he's going through he will always fight. He will always do what he must to return to us, Jessie. I have no doubt about that."
"Agreed." Jessie breathed.
"We should head back inside soon. I heard your mother say something about making your favorite dish for dinner tonight."
"Pollo con Salsa de Champinones?" Jessie's voice beamed.
"Yes, I think that is what she called it."
"Let's head in then. It's amazing, you'll love it." Jessie stood as Hadji did the same.
Heading back towards the house, Hadji was happy to see the small spark of life return to friend's steps. He only hoped that it wasn't temporary.
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"Jess, don't go." Jonny reached for his redheaded goddess as the guards snatched her out of his arms.
Lunging forward, Jonny felt the butt stock of one of the guard's rifles smack into this side of his head.
"Back off." The man growled as a pained cry escaped Jonny's lips.
Eyes filled with tears, Jonny looked up at Jessie as the guards pulled her away; her face was blank, she displayed no emotion at all. "Ace, no," He cried as he reached for her again and was quickly struck in the face a second time.
"I'm sorry, Jonny." Jessie spoke. Her voice was hollow and flat. "I have to go. I have to go."
"Don't leave me, Ace." Jonny whimpered.
"I have to go." Jessie replied.
Jonny blinked and she was gone. The guard raised his rifle at Jonny and fired.
Jonny shot up like a dart from his cot. His heart was pounding and he placed a hand on his chest, feeling the telltale sign that he was still alive.
"It was just a dream." He mumbled. Placing a hand to his head, he would have sworn that he felt a dull throbbing from the guard's butt stock still lingering, even after he was awake.
"The same one as before? Where your love abandons you?"
Whipping his head around, he saw Temple next to him. He was seated in a portable folding chair, staring at Jonny while chewing on his toothpick. If Jonny didn't know better he'd have sworn the man was watching over him as he slept. Eyes narrowing, he studied the traitorous Agent's mannerisms and for a moment, just a moment, Jonny thought he saw a hint of sorrow in the man's features.
"None of your business." Jonny said, but his voice was weak and he didn't have the energy to fight at the moment.
Temple shrugged and Jonny saw the bottle in his hands. Temple caught the look of fear in Jonny's eyes as the blonde turned his head away.
"You have to drink it, Jonny." Temple said as he began his routine of filling the bottle with the powdery substance.
Jonny shook his head as Temple shook the bottle. "I told you this would be easier if you stop resisting."
"I'll never stop resisting."
Temple sighed, remembering the words of the other board members on the VTC. He was running out of time to convert Jonny before he had to leave. Temple refused to leave the Quest boy in the hands of Lucius Kreed, but if Jonny continued to fight him, Temple would have no choice. He made his decision, he'd have to up his game.
Snatching Jonny by the throat, Temple growled, "Open your mouth or I'll crush your throat."
"You wouldn't." Jonny croaked as he felt Temple tighten his grip.
"I'm losing my patience with you, Hotshot. I can kill you at any moment and all that will happen to me is some harsh words slung my way by the rest of the board. You, however, you'll be dead. So do as you're told, damnit."
Jonny's eyes bulged as Temple squeezed harder. Finally, he nodded swiftly, causing the big man to release him. Jonny gulped for air as his hands wandered up to touch his sore neck.
"Drink it." Temple held out the bottle of water. "Drink it on your own."
Jonny eyed his abuser as he continued to inhale deep breaths. Finally, he shook his head and said, "No."
"So be it." Temple growled. In a flash he was on the rebellious youth again and with one meaty hand around his throat he pinned Jonny to the cot. Temple's fingers dug into the boy's neck and jaw and eventually the pain and lack of air forced Jonny to open his mouth. When he did, Temple poured the liquid into Jonny's throat and after quickly discarding the bottle after it was empty, held Jonny's mouth shut so the boy would be forced to drink.
When he finally swallowed the pasty flavored cocktail, Temple released him. Standing back up, he watched as Jonny's body reacted to the substances within the powder. He just hoped that the side effects wouldn't be too severe; he had tripled to dosage in order to expedite Jonny's transformation.
"You're a fucking lunatic and a coward." Jonny finally spat when he was able to speak.
"I'm all you have now, Hotshot."
"Stop calling me that."
"No one is coming for you, Hotshot. Not your father, not Bannon, and especially not that prissy little redhead you love so much."
"They'll come. And when they do, you'll regret it, Temple."
"I told you before, Jonny, she left you. That's what they do." Temple responded.
Jonny paused. "That's what who do?"
"Women." Temple huffed. "They use you, tell you they love you, but once they get what they want they rip your fucking heart out and leave you for the wolves."
"Maybe women you've been with, but not Jessie. She's not like that." Jonny retorted. "We love each other."
Temple laughed. "The sooner you learn that love is nothing but bullshit you'll understand what I'm telling you, kid. Think about it, Jonny, really think about it. If she loved you, would she have left you?"
"She had no choice."
Temple shook his head as he sighed. "Stop making excuses for her and realize that she did make a choice and that choice was her safety over yours. Forget about her, forget about all of them, to include your father. I'm your family now, Hotshot. I'm the one that's looking after you, protecting you. Not Jessie Bannon and sure as shit not her father or yours."
"I don't believe a word you're saying. I never will." Jonny retorted, but his voice wavered with just a shred of doubt.
"You think that old man of yours can save you?" Temple sneered. "He couldn't even protect his wife, your mother."
"What do you know about that?" Jonny asked; he hadn't thought about his mother's death in a long time.
Temple smirked. "I know exactly what happened. I know how your mother died, Hotshot. I read the reports. I saw the evidence, the crime scene photos. I read the statements given by your father and the Intelligence One Agents that blew the mission and got her killed."
"Was…was Race involved?" Jonny asked cautiously.
Temple saw an opportunity. He smiled and said, "Of course he was. I don't think your old man knows though. Why do you think Bannon was assigned to protect you? It was his penance. Having to protect the family of the woman that he got killed. Ha! Corbin punished Bannon good for that little fuck up."
Jonny shook his head. He didn't want to believe, but the way Temple spoke…could it really be true?
"You see, Jonny, your father worked for an organization that thrives on secrets. Secrets and lies. You really think the Agency would tell you the truth? You think they actually care about you? About your dad? Come on, kid, think about it. I-1 doesn't give a shit about you, hell the higher ups don't even care about their own Agents; everyone is expendable…everyone except Doctor Quest. They'd do anything to keep him on the Government's payroll. They don't care about his well-being; only that he keeps producing under the contracts given to him. You think Race cares about you? He's nothing but hired muscle. And his buddy, Phil Corbin, he plays the political game as well as any suit on the Hill. Their agenda has nothing to do with the well-being of the Quests. All they care about is results. That's it."
"I…" Jonny was at a loss for words.
"Think about what I've said. Think back and remember. You'll see that what I'm telling you is the truth. Because here's the thing, Hotshot. I won't lie to you. I got out when I saw the truth. The Consortium knows the truth and The Consortium will take care of you, just like they've taken care of me. Remember that if and when you ever see Bannon or that redheaded daughter of his again. Remember who killed your mother. It wasn't me, Jonny, it was Race."
Temple stood. "Remember that."
Jonny stared at the man, but he had no words left to combat Temple's statement. He didn't know what to think anymore. He lowered his head so Temple wouldn't see the tears, but who or what Jonny was crying for, he wasn't entirely sure. A few moments later, he felt Temple's strong hand on the top of his head. He gave Jonny a few comforting pats, then turned and left. Jonny raised his eyes, watching the man's back as he left, wondering why Temple was so cruel to him one moment then comforting and understanding the next. It perplexed Jonny, but he began to wonder, perhaps what Temple was saying was actually true.
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To Be Continued...
Author's Note: Thank you to ForeverWells for the translation of the dialogue between Terry and Karla. I couldn't have done it and make it real without you!
Here is the English translated version:
"Don't look at me with that face. You make me nervous when you look at me that way."
"How the hell else do you want me to see you, Karla. I don't like this at all. I don't want you to do it."
"Don't worry, I'm not alone."
"Sitll," he shook his head.
"I'm part of this team now. And if this is the way I can contribute...you know that this is what I have to do to help Jonny. Please Terry, trust me. Everything will be alright."
"I trust you," Terry answered with a small smile that appeased her, "But I'm still worried about what you'll be doing!"
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a peck on the cheek and beamed, "And that's why I'm head over heels for you!"