Chapter 9
After a quick stop at a late night convenience store to grab what Michaela termed, "stake out essentials," they headed out to the D.O.D.'s secure facility.
The building was surrounded by an electrified fence and two acres of open, flat ground. There were no trees or bushes, only well maintained lawns and asphalt driveways.
Both gated entrances boasted guard shacks with vigilant M.P.s keeping watch over closed circuit monitors. M.P.s also patroled in and outside the fence with guard dogs. All of the guards were armed with standard issue M-16 submachine guns and nine millimeter hand guns.
This was the only facility on this road, but a mile down the road there was an industrial complex with a parking lot that provided the perfect spot for visual surveillance of the D.O.D. facility.
"Zoom in on the facility and put it on the monitor, K.A.I.S.Y. Scan for anything out of the ordinary, also scan for K.I.T.T.'s EM signature."
"Right away."
The requested visual appeared on the monitor, allowing Michaela to see what was happening at the facility without using binoculars.
"So far, no sign of K.I.T.T. and nothing going on at the facility. I'll continue scanning, though," K.A.I.S.Y. reported a moment later.
Stifling a yawn – it was already past midnight – Michaela pulled a wrapped sandwich out of the bag of stuff she'd grabbed at the convenience store.
Tearing the corner off a package of mayonnaise, she smeared it on the sandwich.
Taking a large bite, she sighed in contentment.
"I've always been curious about food," K.A.I.S.Y. broke into the silence.
"How do you mean?" Michaela asked absently, not really considering she was talking to an A.I. who had no need of nutrients in the way humans did.
"How does it taste? I've heard the terms sweet, sour, bitter, but I have no concept of them." Casey was suddenly sitting in the passenger seat, the convenience store bag on his lap.
He reached across and wiped a smear of mayonnaise from the corner of Michaela's mouth. He then stuck his thumb in his mouth, licking the mayo off of it. He spouted the chemical make-up of the mayonnaise, which made Michaela laugh.
"Yeah, you're right, that just doesn't convey how mayo tastes!" she exclaimed through her nearly hysterical laughter. On the inside, she was reeling from the sensuality of Casey's touch.
She wasn't sure if Casey realized how he made her feel. Michaela didn't know which scared her more, the thought the he did realize it, or the thought that he didn't.
Once she had gotten her laughter under control, and managed to suppress her feelings, she said, "Maybe Bonnie can come up with a program that will let you taste food."
* * *
The night passed slowly, and Michaela now realized that stake outs on TV were highly glorified and no where near reality. Reality was they were boring, even with a partner's company.
Luckily, her partner didn't require sleep, so she was able to leave the surveillance to him and lean her seat back to doze off.
The rising sun woke Michaela the next morning.
"Any kind of excitement last night?" she asked, as she stretched and pulled her seat back to a seated position.
"Nothing," K.A.I.S.Y. replied.
"Okay, let's give Devon a call, find out how he's feeling and see if Jason got anywhere with the D.O.D."
"I do hope you're keeping Michaela out of trouble, K.A.I.S.Y.," Devon said, as soon as the connection had been made.
"Good morning to you, too, Uncle Devon!" Michaela smiled at F.L.A.G.'s head.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Devon, sir!" K.A.I.S.Y. answered the old man with a slightly nervous tremor in his voice.
"If I've told you once, K.A.I.S.Y., I've told you a thousand times! Enough with the sir and Mr. Devon!" Devon good naturedly admonished the A.I., a friendly grin on his lined and weathered face.
"Yes, s... Devon," K.A.I.S.Y.'s voice sounded meek.
Devon was suddenly overcome by a deep wracking cough. His face turned red, as he tried to get the coughing fit under control and catch his breath.
"Uncle Devon?" Michaela reached out, as if she could touch Devon through the dash monitor. Her forehead was deeply creased with worry.
Devon – in his early eighties now – had not been a young man in a very long time. And while he was healthy as far as most old age illnesses went, he wasn't immune from catching cold.
"Summer time colds are always the worst," Devon managed after a few minutes. "Jason told me about your call last night. I've been in touch with General Connor over at the D.O.D. He has assured me that the facility is well guarded and impenetrable. I tried to tell him about K.I.T.T.'s abilities, but he insisted they could handle anything. You'd better stay there and keep an eye on the place."
"Okay, Uncle Devon. You go get some rest," Michaela blew him a kiss through the monitor, which he pretended to snatch out of the air, then they disconnected the link.
Michaela sighed and leaned back in her seat. She steepled her fingers, tapping her index fingers together.
"You're worried about him?" K.A.I.S.Y. broke into her thoughts.
"He's old, K.A.I.S.Y. He should have retired years ago, but he doesn't think anyone else can run F.L.A.G. as well as he can."
"He put Jason in charge last night."
"For one night!" Michaela scoffed.
