Chapter 4
Butt-stock of his rifle nestled tightly into the pocket of his shoulder, Jonny rounded the corner of the crumbling building. Scanning ahead he didn't see any combatants so he made his way towards the door, intent on infiltrating the building and making his way towards the final target.
Weighted down with the heavy combat boots and equipment, Jonny still glided swiftly towards the door, but paused before crossing in front of an opening. At some point it must have held a pane of glass, but now the window was just a rectangular hole in the wall. He lowered his rifle, but kept it in the low-ready position so he could peer inside. Again, he saw no one and a quick, but thorough inspection of the frame revealed no booby traps.
Changing his plan on the go, Jonny placed a hand on the sill and vaulted over the ledge into the building. Feet hiding the floor within seconds, his knees absorbed the impact and he remained crouching as he readied his rifle once again.
So far he'd met no resistance, but he knew better than to think that no one was out there waiting for him. Making his way towards the open stairs, he kept his eyes focused down the iron sights of the rifle. Moving with a quickness, but incorporating caution, he never turned his back on the stairs as he started to make his way up to the next floor. He reached the next landing, then sliced the corner, keeping his back to the wall and scanning forward and up as he continued his journey towards the rooftop.
Three flights of stairs later, he stood in front of the roof entrance. Reaching out he grasped the knob, turned it and simultaneously pushed it open while crouching down to make his way out on to the roof. The blazing sun assaulted him, forcing Jonny to squint as he made his way towards the low wall that ran the length of the roof's perimeter. He ignored the empty pigeon coops and the random splattering of bird droppings as he reached the ventilation system that supported the building.
Kneeling, he set his rifle down, freeing both hands to retrieve a hard black case that was tucked away inside a pouch on his vest. Setting the case down and opening it, he looked up, did a quick scan, saw nothing then went back to his task.
'Something doesn't feel right.' His mind told him, but he ignored the warning as he removed a long, metal cylindrical tube. Unscrewing the cap, he set it down then grabbed a small plastic bottle, similar to the bottles that held medication, from the case. Popping the top off with his thumb, he dumped the contents into the tube, returned the empty container to the case and secured the cap of the metal device.
Next, Jonny worked each of the small slits on the device open so once the device was activated, the contents inside would filtered through the slits. He turned the tube over. On the bottom was a small keypad. Jonny punched in the appropriate number then pressed the Enter button, arming the device.
With a smirk, he tossed the tube down the ventilation system.
Grabbing his rifle, he stood, intent on exiting by the same route he had come. He took a step, then noticed a red dot dead center on his chest.
"Shit!" He shouted and ducked, barely avoiding the kill shot as the round sailed overhead.
Crawling across the baking rooftop, he tried to make his way towards the door when the shooter switched weapons and began firing a fully automatic rifle. Rounds bounced all around him as his mind raced through his options. Still heading in the direction of the door, the gunman cut off his path, pelting the roof with the rounds.
Jonny was a sitting duck, he had to get out of the line of fire or else the machine gunner would soon get a bead on him and take him out. Suddenly, he had an idea. Popping up, he feinted moving towards the door, drawing the fire to that direction and as the gunner walked the rounds that way, Jonny turned and ran for the abandoned pigeon coops.
Sliding to his knees when he reached the cages, he found what he had hoped was there; a long coiled up garden hose. Smiling at his luck, he slung his rifle onto his back and snatched the hose up. His ears were ringing from the machine gun fire, but his heart and adrenaline were pumping. He secured one end of the hose to the sturdiest part of the coops' base then quickly moved to the edge of the building and tossed the rest over the side. He didn't need it to go all the way down, only far enough so he could shimmy down and drop the rest of the way.
He didn't have a moment to spare; he only hoped the hose wasn't dry rotted and that it would hold him just long enough for him to make his escape.
He looked up and saw the machine gunner on the rooftop two buildings down and across the street. With a smirk, Jonny climbed onto the ledge, threw up his middle finger in the man's direction, then grasped the hose with both hands and pushed himself over the side just as a another burst of rounds flew by.
Even with gloves, the quick descent burned Jonny's hands. Grunting he held on for dear life. He looked down and saw that the distance from the bottom of the hose to the top of the nearest closed dumpster was quite significant.
'This is going to fucking hurt.' He told himself. Tightening his grip on the hose, he stopped his descent and shimmied as far to the end as he was willing to go. Planting his feet firmly on the wall, he kicked off while at the same time swinging towards the dumpster.
His weight was taxing his anchor and as he pushed himself off he felt the hose jerk. Losing his momentum, the sudden unexpected move made him slam against the brick wall. Grunting, Jonny knew he had to get off the hose now.
Getting his feet back under him, he repeated his actions, pushed away from the wall and swung out and to the side. Jonny let go of the hose at the last possible moment, the momentum of his movement sending him hurling towards the dumpster as gravity pulled him down. Seconds later he crashed on top of the container, the impact jarring his shoulder and rattling his teeth.
He grimaced, but didn't have time to worry about the pain. Rolling off the bin, he jumped to the ground and examined his current position. The shooter was still out there and would be expecting him to emerge onto the street; if Jonny went that way he'd be done for.
Changing his tactic, he descended deeper into the alleyway and found access to the next building. Kicking the door in, Jonny readied his rifle and quickly made his way through the building to the stairs, but he wasn't headed for the roof this time.
He made his way to the top floor and to a room that faced the street. Dropping down, he crawled across the grimy floor towards the window, again just a hole with no glass.
Peering over the edge he saw the machine gunner on the roof, now one buildings down.
"I can do this." He breathed out loud. Making sure he didn't expose himself, he placed his front arm on the window sill and propped the barrel of his rifle on top, using his arm to secure the weapon. Tucking the butt-stock back into his shoulder, he stared down the iron sights, taking a bead on the man on the roof. It was a tough shot, but Jonny was confidant in his abilities.
Slowing his breathing, he steadied his nerves and waited for just the right moment. A minute later the gunner moved, raising his body and turning backwards.
Jonny fired.
He watched as the round smacked into the man's back, causing him to stagger forward then drop out of sight. Sighing heavily, Jonny didn't waste any time thinking about it. He just reacted. Standing, he made his way back to the stairs, down, and outside onto the street.
Once outside, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare then waited. What felt to Jonny like hours was, in reality, only a few minutes when he saw Temple step out of the building across the street. Moving towards the man, Jonny met him half way in the middle of the abandoned street.
"How'd I do?" Jonny asked once they were together.
"Not bad, Hotshot, not bad." Temple grinned, turning around to show Jonny where his training round had impacted. "That was a hell of a shot."
Jonny nodded, the praise felt good. "How was my time?"
Temple looked at his watch. "Better than the last time, but you still need to work on the getting quicker with the device. If you'd hadn't taken so long up there, you could have gotten away before I found you."
Jonny took in the information, playing the scenario out in his head.
Temple put a hand on Jonny's shoulder and said, "But seriously, the move off the rooftop. That was quick thinking on your part. You knew I had the door covered and going over the edge like that…pretty damn ballsy, Jonny. That's what I like to see."
"Thanks." Jonny smiled.
"But next time you give me the finger I'll take it off with my next shot." Temple laughed.
"Hey, gotta have a little fun, right?" Jonny joked in response.
"Come on, let's get back to the camp. We'll run another scenario after nightfall."
"Sounds good to me, Greg." Jonny replied as he fell in step with his new mentor.
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"Take them outside, a couple of our guys from the Maryland office are on the way." Phil told his Agents once they had the group of bikers cuffed and secured. "They'll drive them back to headquarters for us."
The bar was shut down and the patrons not associated with Hanson had been sent home after being checked and verified. Race was in the back office, going through a pile of documents that had been strewn about on Hanson's desk.
"Find anything yet?" Corbin asked as he stepped inside with Race.
Shaking his head, Race held up a fistful of papers, "Shipping documents and invoices, but nothing to do with the traffickers yet. There's a lot here, Phil, but most of it is in code. This is going to take time to decipher. Time we don't have."
Walking towards the desk, Phil casually picked up some of the documents, gave them a once over, then set them back down. Sighing he said, "I'm surprised you're so calm at the moment."
"What?" Race asked.
"Terry messed up and I had to walk away from letting him know how bad he messed up because you interrupted me." Phil stated. "I thought you'd be on my side on this one. We are looking for Jonny after all and Terry's actions really could have hindered this investigation. I realize now that I should have left him back in D.C., that's on me, but I guess I assumed he would have been more professional."
Race listened intently to the Director, then spoke. "It did bother me, Phil. But at the end of the day, we got Hanson without too much of a fight. What good would me chewing into Roberts accomplish after you already did? It's not my place to discipline him or any of your Agents for that matter."
"He's going to think I'm punishing him, but I need him on another assignment. It'll be temporary, but I wanted to let you know first since he's also part of this team."
"What's the assignment?"
"I've been tasked to provide an interpreter for a political summit in Moscow. The summit is at the end of next month. He's due some vacation time and after everything we've been through in the last two months I think he can use a break."
"It'll be good for him." Race agreed.
"Terry's my best linguist and of all the languages he speaks, he excels in Russian and some of the Eastern Bloc dialects. If needed I'll pull someone else on to the team to fill in for him."
Race nodded, "Any word from Brooks at the docks?"
"He's waiting on us right now. I want to secure both sites before we head back to D.C. Once the Maryland office guys get here, which should be any minute now, I want to head over to the docks and we'll raid it as well. I already received the search warrant based on what we discovered here."
Corbin was talking about the stash of illegal guns and drugs they had found in Hanson's office along with the shipping documents.
"How'd you get it so fast?"
Phil winked, "Are you really asking that question? We both have contacts that can make things happen on a moment's notice."
"Who you taking to the docks?"
"I figured you, me, Velk, and Karla. Pete and Terry can stay here and finish up with the Maryland team."
Race nodded, "Let's go."
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"How did young Mister Quest perform during the training simulations?" Kreed asked the moment Temple stepped into the rear portion of the Englishman's tent.
"Better than expected, Lucius." Temple grabbed himself a cup of coffee while he spoke. "Like I said the other day, he's ready."
"Are you confidant that he has been swayed mentally to our cause?"
"Well, I raised the dosage of the mind controlling powder. I think he's succumbed to the suggestive powers of the substance, especially after you showed him the pictures Grimm sent."
"Very good." Kreed nodded. Turning to face the American, his wicked grin suddenly disappeared. "About the other evening on the teleconference, you should not have told the board you were determined to keep the boy. You know they want him for their own purposes now."
Temple rolled his eyes. "How typical of the board. First they were willing to let him go, end up in the hands of some millionaire pedophile, but now that we secured him they want him for themselves. I don't think so, Lucius."
"He can be a very persuasive bargaining chip to be used against his father. You know this, Greg." Kreed stated as he sipped a cup of tea.
"Is he a hostage or a potential operator? If the board just wants him to use as a hostage then why am I wasting my time converting and training him?"
"Why can he not be both?"
"That's insane, Kreed. You know that. What's the end game with Jonny? What does the board really want him to do?"
"What do you think, Greg? They want him to destroy his father." Kreed laughed a little at the idea.
"So, we train him to kill his own father and then what? Hand him over to I-1 so they back off?" Temple grumbled.
Kreed studied the other man intently. "Are you developing a soft spot for the young Quest? I thought better of you, Greg."
"No," Temple shot back a bit too forcefully. "I just don't like my time being wasted, that's all. I rescued him. Now I'm training him and I'm going to keep him. I need a partner on these upcoming assignments and who better than the kid I've gone to such great lengths to mold into what The Consortium needs?"
Kreed seemed to accept Temple's reasoning. With a nod, he said, "Very well. Do what you have to with him. I will handle the rest of the board if it comes up again."
Temple downed the last of his coffee, crushed the cup in his meaty hand then tossed it into a nearby waste bin. Staring at his partner for a moment, he eventually shrugged, "I'm taking him out in about an hour to run the scenario again for night operations. Jonny will be, thanks to me, more effective than any other operator we've trained in the past. And when I take him out into the real world with me, you and the board will see, that Jonny will be more dangerous than any of you ever dreamed he could be."
"Bannon is still searching for him you know." Kreed countered. "What do you plan to do when he finds you, Greg?"
"Let Bannon come," Temple growled. "You all speak his name as if he's some indestructible force and we should cower in fear before him. I'm not afraid of Bannon or all of I-1 for that matter. I'll kill any Agent they send after us, damn whatever the board says. And you know what will be even more satisfying, Kreed?"
"What is that, Mister Temple?" Kreed led the big man on.
"By the time Bannon shows up, Jonny will be so deep under my control that I wouldn't be surprised if young Mister Quest insists on pulling the trigger himself."
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With a silent nod Race indicated that he was ready. The team had arrived at the docks, received an update from Agent Brooks and the State Troopers and were standing by to infiltrate Hanson's office.
Race was stacked on one side of the door with Corbin on the other. Both were armed with their issued sidearms and wearing protective vests. Velk and Altine covered the rear while Brooks and one of the troopers converged on an area of the docks were the other two troopers stationed as lookouts indicated some activity.
Keying his mic, Race whispered, "All teams, move out in three…two…one…mark."
As soon as he said the word, Race pushed himself off of the wall and kicked in the door of the mobile trailer that served as the office.
Bursting inside, Race raised his handgun at the two men that sat at the worn down desks. "Intelligence One, hands up!" He ordered.
One man froze while the other spun in his chair and bolted for the rear of the trailer. Seconds later the rear door was kicked in by Velk, cutting off the fleeing suspect before he could move five steps.
Surrounded, the two men raised their hands. Race saw Corbin from the corner of his eye and knowing the Director had his weapon trained on the man at the desk, Race approached swiftly and with a purpose. "Stand up."
The thug didn't move. Race sneered and snatched the man out of his seat, slamming him down onto the desk with an audible thud. "You hard of hearing or something, pal?" He spat as he jerked the man's hands behind his back and cinched the cuffs down tight.
"Hey, that's too tight, asshole." The man cried with hate.
Patting him down, Race pulled a small caliber handgun from the back of the man's jeans and placed it on the desk. "Don't worry, they're new, they'll loosen up eventually."
"Big man's got jokes." The prisoner grumbled.
Hauling him up to his feet, Race slammed the man against the wall, his hand secured around the thug's throat. "I don't see anyone laughing, do you, tough guy?"
Moving him and the other prisoner, secured by Agent Velk, to the small area in front of the desks, Race shoved the man down onto a dirty and torn up couch. Velk sat the guy's comrade down next to him.
"What's this about?" The first man asked. "You Feds better have a warrant. This is private property."
Phil produced his warrant and flashed it in front of the man's face. "We're searching for kidnapped children and this little piece of paper gives me the right to tear this place apart looking for those kids."
"There ain't no kids here, you've got the wrong place." The man shot back.
"The longer it takes us to search this place the more illegal goods I bet we're going to find," Race stated. "So why don't you do yourselves a favor and start talking."
The man snorted, but kept his mouth shut.
"Fine, you want to play that game?" Phil stated. Turning to Velk and Altine he ordered, "Start tearing this place apart. Bag and tag everything."
"Yes, Sir." Velk nodded and got to work.
"You ain't gonna find nothin'." The man replied as he watched Velk rummage through his desk.
"We'll see about that." Race scowled.
Within minutes, Velk raised his head, "I think I've found something."
"Already?" Race laughed with a look at the prisoner.
"They're too stupid to even password protect their systems." Velk replied.
Joining the other Agent, Race and Phil looked at the criminal's laptop. Hitting a few keys Velk opened a folder and inside was hundreds of pictures of child and torture pornography. Looking back at the man with disgust, Race's face was on fire.
"You're going away for a long time just on this," Phil motioned at the laptop. "Start talking and you might get to see the outside of a prisoner cell sometime before you die."
"Fuck off." The man spat back.
Shaking his head, Phil motioned for Velk to continue. A crackle in their ear pieces drew their attention away from the disgusting display on the screen. "Sir, we found something."
It was Brooks. Race perked up, "What is it? Did you find Jonny?"
"Negative. You really need to see this for yourselves. We're out in row twenty-three Charlie."
"On the way." Race said.
Phil waved his hand for Velk and Altine to continue and keep an eye on the prisoners. "Matt, call in backup so they can start assisting with securing this site."
"Got it." Velk answered, but neither Race nor Phil heard him; they were already out the door and heading in the direction Brooks had mentioned.
Minutes later, they joined Brooks and the trooper. Brooks immediately reported, "There was a few workers, but they scattered when we approached."
"I have additional men outside the entrance and they apprehended the runners." The Trooper, a man named Jones, stated. "They're in custody now."
"Good work." Race gave the man a nod of appreciation.
"Sir," Brooks started. "Those men were working around these containers. We opened this one up and found this." He pulled the heavy door outward. It was dark so all four men turned on their flashlights and stepped inside.
"Fuck," Race muttered. The container was obviously being prepped as a transport container. Inside was a number of dirty mattresses, blankets, gallon jugs of water, food ration containers, and buckets that reeked of old human waste.
Brooks shone his flashlight towards the ceiling. "You can see the container's been modified to allow for airflow as well as an old HVAC system. My guess is they have a number of these containers throughout the yard to use for transporting their captives."
Race wandered through the box, looking at the conditions that these people had set up for their prey. It made him sick to his stomach. Shining his light along the wall, he observed random markings throughout; markings that looked to have been made by previous occupants. Towards the rear of the container he was drawn to one marking in particular; the words HELP US had been scrawled onto the side of the metal. From the crudeness of it, Race surmised it had been made with either blood or some other bodily fluid.
He needed air. Stepping outside, Race took a number of deep breaths while he paced. He heard Phil speaking to Brooks and the trooper, but the man was speaking too low for Race to make out his words. It didn't matter.
Race took off at a dead sprint back towards the office.
Seeing his friend take off, Phil looked at Brooks and the Trooper, "Stay here." Then took off after Race.
Hitting the partially open door with the full force of his outstretched arms, Race was on the first thug within two long strides. His sudden appearance shocked both captives and Velk and Altine alike.
Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, Race hauled him to his feet. Faces inches apart, he demanded, "Where are they? Where are the kids?"
The man laughed.
Phil entered a second later, "Race, let him go."
"Fuck that." Race spat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a picture of Jonny. Shoving it into the man's face, Race growled, "Where is this boy?"
"Fuck you, asshole." The man replied, then spit in Race's face.
It was the wrong move.
Tightening his hold, he spun the man around, barely missing Phil who sidestepped out of Race' path at the last moment. Race pushed his captive through the door and threw him down hard onto the slick concrete.
"Where is he?" Race wiped his face clean.
"You hard of hearing or something, pal?" The man mocked.
Race lost it. He kicked the handcuffed thug in the gut with his steel toed boot, causing the man to curl up into a fetal position. "Tell me where he is, damnit!"
The man coughed. Race felt Phil and Velk attempt to restrain him, but his rage was too great and he shrugged the other men off easily. He planted another kick in the man's stomach, "You think this is a joke? You think sticking kids in shipping containers and sending them across the world is a fucking game? Selling them to be sex slaves? You sick fuck!"
"I want a lawyer." The man whined.
"You're gonna need more than a lawyer when I'm done with you." Race sneered. He landed another kick, not as hard, but this one was to the man's chin.
Rolling over the prisoner coughed up a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. "Get this fucking lunatic off me."
Velk moved between Race and the prisoner. The Agent was as tall as Race and while not as toned, he was wide in the shoulders and just as strong as Bannon. He placed his hands on Race's chest and pushed him backwards. "Race, stop." He tried to calm his friend down, but Race could tell from Velk's tone that he felt the thug deserved the beating he was getting.
"These sons of bitches!" Race shouted as he tried to push passed Velk, but the other Agent remained steadfast.
"Race, calm down." Phil ordered.
His face was beat red, his nostrils flared as he sucked in deep breaths and exhaled. Finally, Race tore his gaze from the man he wanted to kill and looked at the Director. Phil's look was the same as Velk's, but Race knew that Phil wasn't protecting the prisoner, he was protecting Race. The last thing they needed was a dead suspect or a lawsuit, neither of which would help Jonny.
Throwing his hands in the air, Race stepped back. "I'm fine."
Phil studied his enraged friend for a moment, then nodded at Velk. Matt picked the beaten man up off the ground and took him back inside the trailer.
"Don't say anything," Race said when he and Phil were alone. "I know it was wrong, but…"
"Come on." Phil said and put a hand on Race's shoulder to lead him back into the trailer.
Back inside, Phil stared down the beaten man and his confederate, who sat sullenly and quietly on the couch.
Finally looking away, Phil turned to Velk. "Call in as much help as you need; I-1, the State Police, even the FBI, DEA, and the Marshals if that's what it's going to take."
"Sir?" Velk questioned.
"I want every single container at this port opened and searched. Every damn one. That includes the ships currently in port and the cargo. No ship leaves port and none dock until this site is one hundred percent searched and secured. Get me the name of any ship that's currently in port that is not a U.S. flagged vessel and I'll obtain the appropriate search warrants. Any U.S. flagged ship is searched immediately per my order. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir." Velk nodded. He was on the phone a moment later making the appropriate coordination.
"As for you two," Phil started.
"Fuck you, I'm going to sue your ass for what your man did to me. I'll be out before you can fucking blink. And you better hope I don't find out where any of you assholes live."
Not missing a beat, Phil said, "Add that to the list of charges you're facing, Mister. Death threats against Federal Agents. Now you have zero chance of ever seeing the light of day again, you piece of shit."
"I need to clear my head." Race said. He stepped towards the door, but the goon who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, called out to him.
"Hey, big man, guess what? I did see that kid in the picture."
Race turned back and stared daggers at the man. "Where is he?"
"He's gone." The man laughed. "We shipped his ass out weeks ago. But guess what, big man? When I say he's gone, I mean he's dead."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Race shouted.
"The ship he was on, it fucking sank."
"You're lying." Race shot back, but he didn't believe his own words.
"No I'm not. You can check for yourself. The boat's name was the Queensland Mother. Check it out. You assholes are too late."
Race took a step towards the man, but was cut off by Phil. "Step outside, Race."
"Phil," Race started.
"Step outside. Now." He ordered.
Race glared at the prisoner over Phil's shoulder, but eventually turned and did as he was told.
Looking back at the prisoner, Phil said, "You better hope you're information is wrong. Because if not, you can add felony murder to the list of charges you'll be facing."
"I ain't wrong, you'll see." The prisoner laughed.
Phil shook his head and went to join Race and provide whatever little comfort he could to his distraught friend.
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"Good morning, Doctor Quest." Jessie greeted as she pushed her way into the kitchen. She'd slept surprisingly well the evening before, the first night she'd fallen asleep without the aid of medication.
"Good morning, Jessie." Benton replied as he turned from the coffee pot. "You look well this morning."
"Physically, I feel better than I have as of late." Jessie went about the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice then taking a seat at the island. Benton watched her the entire time. "Any word from my dad or I-1 this morning?"
Benton knew Jessie's question was meant to divert the conversation from herself, but he'd give her the benefit of at least answering, "Just that the team is back in Washington, D.C. Corbin called me a bit ago to tell me they conducted a couple raids last night. No Jonny, but they are confident they've collected enough evidence to find him."
Jessie's disappointment mirrored Benton's. She knew he was struggling and every day that passed without any positive news was one more day that Jonny slipped further from their reach. "I'm sure they'll get a break soon, Doctor Quest."
"I hope so, Jess." Benton replied, sipping his coffee. "With Race being active in the investigation, Corbin wants to assign another Agent here, at least temporarily until Jonny is found."
"Do you think that's necessary?"
"I don't know, but he sounded adamant."
"What did you tell him?"
Benton stroked his beard before replying, "I told him I wanted Intelligence One to concentrate on finding Jonny. That we could take care of ourselves here for the time being. He didn't sound too happy about it, but at the end of the day it's my decision. However, if you or your mother feel having someone around is necessary I can call Phil back and let him know."
"What about Hadji?"
As if summoned by his name, Hadji appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Making his way towards the coffee pot, Hadji answered, "I must return to Bangalore in a couple days. A number of high priority meetings are quickly approaching and I cannot ignore my duties to my people there."
"Hadji, must you?" Jessie hated the idea of being the only teenager left in the house right now.
"My mother is a fine ruler, but there are decisions that I, as Sultan, must make. However, I plan to return the moment I am able."
"I did request an Agent accompany you, son." Benton confessed. "I know your royal guardsmen are more than capable, but having someone from the Agency with you can help facilitate communication between everyone. An I-1 Agent would also be more in tune with the current investigation and be able to spot anything out of the ordinary or suspicious behavior that might not be as apparent to your other guards. I know I took a liberty, Hadji, but with Jonny still missing I cannot risk something happening to you as well."
Stoic and understanding as ever, Hadji gave a curt nod. "I understand, father. It is okay."
"Director Corbin will bring the Agent here tomorrow evening so he can fly out with you the following day."
"What about dad?" Jessie asked. She'd really like to see him in person, if only briefly.
"I don't know if he'll be coming, Jessie." Benton stated. "He and I haven't spoken since we returned home."
Jessie attempted to mask her displeasure; she missed her father. It was one thing to speak with and see him over video chats, but it was another for him to be around in person. She understood that Race was actively engaged in finding Jonny and being back in Maine would be a distraction and separate him from the resources available to him at I-1 Headquarters. However, Jessie still felt it was unfair that Doctor Quest had insisted that Race not return home when nothing that happened had been her dad's fault.
Sighing, Jessie stood. "I think I'm going to head out to the lighthouse for a bit."
Benton frowned, noticing the sudden change in Jessie's mood. "Jessie, perhaps you'd like to assist me in the lab? I've been running a number of tests on my latest project and could use an extra set of eyes."
Shaking her head, Jessie refused the offer. "I don't really feel up to that right now, Doctor Quest."
"Jessie," Benton started.
"Please, I really just want to be alone right now, okay?" She countered before Benton could say any more. Not giving the elder Quest a chance to reply, Jessie turned and left the kitchen.
"What did I say wrong?" Benton exhaled.
"She is still very conflicted, father." Hadji observed. "On top of what happened to her and her feelings for Jonny, she is missing her father too. Maybe if Race can come with Director Corbin it would be wise to allow him to do so. If only to be able to see Jessie and Estella for a short time."
Brow furrowed, Benton contemplated his son's suggestion. Benton knew he had acted on emotions back at the raid site, but part of him still felt that Race had let his family down. "Perhaps, Hadji. But any time he spends here is time that he's not actively searching for Jonny."
"I'm sure the rest of the I-1 Agents assigned to the search would still be working diligently and would communicate with Race the moment they discovered something." Hadji saw the hesitation in his father's eyes, so he added, "Just something to think about, father. I have some free time this morning if you'd like help with those tests."
Benton smiled a little, "Sure, son. That would be fantastic."
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"Rise and shine, kid."
Jonny groaned, his sore muscles protesting the sudden movement. Rubbing his eyes he frowned as his companion grinned down at him from above. "Already? It feels like I just fell asleep."
"Get used to it, Hotshot. You were impressive out there yesterday and last night, that's for damn sure."
"I told you not to call me that." Jonny rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
The big man grinned at him, "I don't give a fuck. I'll call you whatever I want."
Pulling his boots on, Jonny stood. He shot his mentor a grin and joked, "With that attitude it's no wonder you're still a fucking lackey."
"Watch your mouth, smartass. You should have more respect for your elders. Besides, I'm no lackey, Jonny. In fact, you and I are going to make some big changes within The Consortium here real soon."
"How so?" Jonny continued getting dressed.
"You're right about one thing, Jonny, I'm tired of standing around waiting to be told what to do. Kreed does his thing and that's fine, but that shit bores me. You and I, kid, we were born for action. The rest of the board is nervous and Lucius is starting to act that way too. I can tell."
"What are they nervous about?"
Temple eyed Jonny briefly, wondering just how much he should share. Jonny was definitely swayed, but he wasn't completely indoctrinated yet; Temple could still see the tiny slivers of doubt peaking through every now and again.
'Time for a drink, just in case.' Temple told himself and reached into the pouch on his load bearing vest. He watched Jonny watch him. Cocking his head, he indicated to the teen to retrieve a bottle of water from the cooler tucked into one of the corners. Jonny did as he was told.
'Good boy.' Temple grinned and handed the powder packet to Jonny when he returned. Temple grinned with satisfaction while he watched Jonny go through the motions of mixing the water and powder then drinking it down completely. 'I guess upping the dosage was a good thing.'
"Nothing important," Temple said in answer to Jonny's question after the boy finished his drink. "They get like this every now and again, worried about too much visibility, too much heat. There's some big missions coming up, some big paydays, and they just want to ensure things go smoothly."
"Who are these board members you keep speaking of?"
"No more questions." Temple grumbled. "We have a lot to accomplish today and sittin' around yappin' isn't on the list."
Jonny glared at the man, watching as he chewed on his toothpick, staring back at him. "Alright," Jonny acquiesced. "You're right. Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Temple stated and handed Jonny his HK G3. "You're going to have to learn to get rid of those fucking emotions and feelings, they're going to get you killed. And if you get killed that means I'm dead as well and since I kind of enjoy my life I'd appreciate it if you'd man up and grow a fucking pair."
Jonny went through the motions of checking the weapon. "You know there's better armaments out there than this old ass hunk of shit, right?"
"Watch it, Quest. That G3 saved my ass on numerous occasions. You want a bunch of stupid ass whizz-bang shit clogging up your rifle, be my guest. But if you can't use iron sights then you ain't shit."
"I can use iron sights just fine." Jonny countered as he tossed the rifle back to the. "I proved that to you yesterday when I tagged you in the back."
"I want to ensure that wasn't just a lucky shot." Temple huffed a little laugh. "Let's hit the range this morning."
"Lucky shot? Bullshit. That shot was dead on and you know it. Give me some credit, will you?"
Pausing, Temple studied the young Quest for a moment. "You're right, Jonny. You are doing quite well. Since you saw the truth and decided to join us, you've excelled faster than even I expected. I just want to make sure you remember who your real family is now. You do understand, right, kid?"
"I get it, Greg. Of course what Jessie and Hadji did bothers me, no, infuriates me. First they abandon me, then they do that? It's like having a knife jammed in your fucking back over and over."
"I won't abandon you, Jonny." Temple offered softly.
Looking up, Jonny looked into Temple's eyes and what he saw changed him. For years, Jonny had learned how to read people; that the eyes are the windows to the soul; the eyes cannot lie. Temple was telling the truth; Greg Temple wouldn't abandon him.
"It's all so confusing." Jonny finally stated, his voice barely audible. "Why would they do that?"
"I don't know, kid," Temple replied. He moved towards Jonny and sat down next to him on the cot, the canvas creaking under the added weight of the muscular man. Temple set his rifle down across his legs and said, "I don't know why, Jonny. But I want you to know that I care about you. Since you came here, I've seen your potential. You're strong, kid. I think you've been held back, but I won't hold you back. I'll help you reach your full potential. I like you, Jonny, I really do."
Looking at the man, Jonny huffed and said, "I like you too, Temple."
Pulling his arm from Jonny, Temple leaned back so he could reach into his pocket. Pulling his hand out, Jonny saw Temple was holding a coin. He'd seen similar coins in Race's office, some called them challenge coins; military and law enforcement personnel gave them to their people as tokens of appreciation and rewards for a job well done. Temple motioned for Jonny to hold out his hand. When the young blonde complied, Temple grasped his hand, sealing the coin between their palms.
"An old friend gave me this coin many years ago. I keep it as a token of remembrance for all he did for me. Now, I want you to have it, Jonny. I want to show you that I'm sincere and this coin will be our bond to each other. I promise to take care of you, protect you, and teach you everything I know so you can be the man you were meant to be."
Jonny nodded and when Greg let go of his hand, Jonny kept the coin.
The first genuine smile Jonny had witnessed spread across Temple's face. "You're home now, Jonny. We take care of our own. The Consortium is your family now."
"I see that now, Greg." Jonny agreed. "The Consortium will take care of me. You will take care of me. I am home."
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To Be Continued…
