Chapter 21
Author's Notes: ForeverWells, thank you so much for your input. I believe it has really improved this chapter and I hope you approve. And as always, thank you for your translation help!
GoddessEvie, as always, thank you for your support and constant feedback. Again, so much of this story has evolved because of your suggestions. I hope you continue to enjoy.
To the rest of my readers, please continue to enjoy. This story has been amazingly fun to write and see develop into so much more than when I first started developing it.
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"So who is this contact we're going to talk to?" Jessie asked.
The flight from Glasgow to The Hague had been uneventful and Jessie had spent most of it catching up on her sleep. Exhaustion and stress, combined with jetlag had taken their tolls on the young redhead and she'd fallen asleep almost immediately.
Now, seated next to Phil in the backseat of a Government town car, she was alert and itching to get back in action.
Phil handed her the dossier of the man they were traveling to see. Studying the documents, she frowned visibly. "Why this man?"
"Because he's connected." Phil responded. "We were finally able to arrest him thanks to your dad and Doctor Quest, but he still knows people."
"You think he knows where The Consortium is located? Where Jonny and my dad are located?"
"I'm hopeful." Phil sighed. "Just let me do the talking, okay?"
The town car turned off the road and into the parking lot of their destination. Jessie peered out the window at the two rising guard towers and large wooden door that marked the entrance to the International Criminal Courts detention center. She saw the buildings behind the light brown brick wall, the ancient penitentiary housing some of the worst international criminals and terrorists convicted and sentenced by the ICC.
The town car was waved through the gates and came to stop in front of the administration building. Phil stepped out and Jessie slid over and out the same door. A brisk wind whipped through the interior grounds of the prison.
Following behind Phil, Jessie walked through the doors of the administration building. An older man, bald except for some hair along the edges of his scalp was waiting for them immediately inside the doorway.
Extending his hand, the man greeted Phil with a curt nod and a forlorn look. "Who is the girl?" He asked, dispensing with any pleasantries.
"A new colleague." Phil answered.
The administrator snorted and waved for them to follow. "Are you armed?"
"Yes." Phil replied.
"Please leave your weapons at the appropriate checkpoint."
"I know the drill, Warden. This isn't my first visit here, you know."
"I know, Director Corbin. But I must state the rules. Formalities." The man shrugged.
"Of course." Phil answered. Stepping up to the counter, he signed both himself and Jessie in and indicated for her to leave her weapon with the officer behind the desk. He did the same.
Once all was in order, they followed the Warden into the building.
Jessie had never seen the inside of a prison. The utilitarian walls and stark passageways were in direct contrast to the magnificent look of the exterior of the building.
Passing through a number of checkpoints, they arrived at the wing that held the interrogation rooms.
"Does he know that it is me he will be talking to?" Phil asked when they stopped in front of a two-way mirror; the room beyond was empty.
"He does."
"Did he say anything?"
"No." The Warden's reply was direct.
"Very well."
"Take as long as you need, Director. Our guards will remain in the room with you and will inform me once your interview is complete."
"Thank you, Warden." Phil nodded.
After the Warden departed, Phil and Jessie stepped into the room. Taking a seat at the single table, Jessie felt a nervous jitter as they waited.
"You okay?" Phil asked when he saw her reaction.
"Yeah," Jessie nodded slowly. "This room kind of reminds me of…you know."
"If you want to wait outside…"
"No, I'll be okay." She cut in before he could continue; she heard her own dad's fatherly concern in Phil's voice and while she appreciated it, she had no intention of backing down now. She'd come too far.
Phil nodded. A sharp buzzer filtered into the room and the door on the opposite the one they had entered opened.
An older man, wearing a white jumpsuit was escorted inside, flanked by two guards. He had a stern look on his face and his thick blonde hair was full and pushed back on his head. He scowled when he saw Phil, but he made no attempt to resist being led inside. His hands and feet were shackled and Jessie could tell that while he was older, probably in his late fifties, he was of formidable appearance and still in decent shape. Jessie was thankful for the shackles.
The prisoner took a seat and the guards stepped back, flanking the door.
"I never thought I would see you." The man growled. "You appear to be an extremely difficult man to kill, Mister Corbin."
"You're looking well, Colonel." Phil replied, giving the man a bit of a boost by using his former rank.
Inclining his head at Jessie, the prisoner asked, "Who is the girl?"
"You know who she is," Phil replied, but looking at Jessie he added, "but for her benefit, Jessie, meet Nikolai Yasimov, former Colonel in the Soviet Army and right hand man to the international criminal, General Vostok."
Jessie kept her face neutral, but gave the Colonel a nod.
"You must be happy that you finally got me to The Hague, Mister Corbin." Nikolai replied.
"You're arrival here was delayed by a number of years and you killed many innocent people between our first meeting and your final capture, but better late than never, I suppose."
"What do you want? You know I will never give you Vostok." Nikolai stated.
"I'm not interested in Vostok." Phil replied.
Nikolai smiled, "Of course not. You are interested in The Consortium."
"What do you know of The Consortium?" Phil asked.
Nikolai stared at Jessie, "I know they have Miss Bannon's father and boyfriend."
"Where are they?" Jessie spat.
"That I do not know." Nikolai replied.
"Why should I believe that?" Jessie asked, her face turning into a scowl.
Nikolai laughed a little. To Phil he said, "You let little girls run your interrogations for you now? You're losing your touch."
"It's not like that." Phil stated. "You know what we want. We want to know where The Consortium's headquarters is located."
"I said I do not know."
"What do you want, Colonel?" Phil asked, changing the course of the discussion.
Yasimov leaned back. His eyes narrowed as he studied the I-1 Director. "I want out of this prison."
"You'll never see freedom again, you know that."
"No, but perhaps I can live out my days in a place that is nicer than here…and avoid the death penalty."
"I don't have that kind of pull, Nikolai."
Sneering, Yasimov grunted. "I do not believe that for one second, American. You have pull with the United Nations or at least with people that do have that kind of power."
Phil sighed, "Perhaps, but you have to give me something. You don't get out of the ICC's detention center without giving me a tangible lead, Nikolai. You know how this game works."
"Yes, a game we have been playing for many years, comrade."
"Let's not start that again." Phil rolled his eyes.
Nikolai appeared to be weighing his options. Jessie studied the Russian's mannerisms, how he drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze moving between her and Corbin. Finally, he leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I am an old man, but I do hear things."
"Tell me." Phil pushed.
"There is a man that you must speak with. He works for The Consortium and he can lead you to the ones you are looking for."
"Who is this man and where can we find him?" Jessie asked before Phil could intervene.
"His name is Wilhelm Rubenstein. He is in Nuremburg. You can find him at the Haus des Kaisers."
Jessie continued, surprised Phil was letting her, but going with it anyways, "What can this Rubenstein tell us? If you're leading us on a wild goose chase…"
Nikolai's laugh cut her off. Looking at Phil, he pointed at Jessie, "You've trained this one well, comrade. She is just like her father."
"Answer her question." Phil stated, his face remaining devoid of any emotional reaction to the Russian.
"Rubenstein works for a man in The Consortium that you will want to talk with, Mister Corbin. A man they call The Viper."
Nikolai grinned, the name finally broke through Corbin's statue like façade. "Who is he?" Phil growled.
Inclining his head, Yasimov clicked his tongue. "For that I need your guarantee."
"I'll see what I can do for you, Colonel." Phil answered immediately. He ignored the look Jessie shot him. "I might not be able to get you out of here, but I can definitely see that your death sentence is commuted."
Yasimov pursed his lips, taking in Phil's words. Finally, he nodded, "Now I believe you, Mister Corbin. I know that you, of all people, have power in these types of negotiations. You did it for Yuri Delic and now you will do it for me."
"Only if you get to the point and tell me who The Viper really is." Phil leered at his former adversary.
A sly smile came across Yasimov's face. "Comrade, you already know The Viper."
"I'm losing my patience, Yasimov." Phil shot back. Jessie felt Corbin's tension, she saw his fingers clench as he spoke. "Give me a name or else I take back any promise to help you and you can rot in here until they take you to the execution chamber."
"He is one of you, Mister Corbin." Nikolai replied, his smile gone.
"I already know he's American." Phil remarked.
Shaking his head, Nikolai frowned, "You misunderstand me. Yes, he is American, but when I say he is one of you, I mean he is Intelligence One."
Jessie heard Phil inhale. Looking at him, she saw his face darken, his eyes staring down Yasimov. If Jessie didn't know better, she'd think Phil would leap across the table and strangle the Russian prisoner.
"You better watch yourself, Nikolai." Phil growled, "You think this is funny? Accusing one of my Agents of being a traitor?"
Nikolai shook his head again. "No, I am not being funny, Mister Corbin. The Viper was once a member of your organization, but no longer. You left him to die and now he is seeking his revenge against Race Bannon, Intelligence One and Doctor Quest."
"Who is he?" Phil slammed his palm on the table.
"A man not unlike you and Race Bannon. A man that seems unwilling to die. The Viper is your former friend and colleague Gregory Temple."
Phil felt like he was punched in the gut. "Impossible."
"Who is Gregory Temple?" Jessie whispered.
Phil stood, "You better not be fucking with me, Yasimov. If you are, the deal is off."
"Why would I do that, comrade? I wish to avoid the needle and you want to save Bannon and young Jonny Quest. Temple has them both and if you do not find Rubenstein, Temple will eventually kill them…if he hasn't done so already."
Jessie watched Phil place his hands on his head, turning in disbelief at what the prisoner was telling him. Looking back at Yasimov, she saw the old Russian was grinning, enjoying the affect his information had on his enemy. Looking at Yasimov, she remarked, "I don't know who this man is, but if you are telling the truth, you need to tell us where to find him."
"I already told you, that I do not know. But what I do know…"
Phil stopped pacing. Moving to Yasimov's side, he leaned down and grabbed the Russian by the throat, turning the man's head to stare him down. The guards made no move to stop Corbin's actions.
Their faces inches apart, Phil stared into Yasimov's eyes and saw that the Russian was speaking the truth. Growling, he said, "You tell whoever gave you this information to get word to Temple. Tell him that we're coming for him and I swear to God, if it's the last thing I ever do, I'm going to make him pay for his betrayal."
Letting go, Phil pushed Yasimov back. Looking at Jessie, Corbin stated, "Let's go. We're done here."
Jessie was on her feet and moving towards the door. Yasimov coughed and when the pair turned back to look at him he said, "Beware, Mister Corbin, Temple does not take kindly to threats."
"It's not a threat, it's a fucking promise." Phil shot back.
"Then let me share one last thing with you," Yasimov replied, "Temple also makes promises and he has promised to not only destroy you and kill Miss Bannon's father, but he plans to use Jonny Quest against his own father."
"What?" Jessie asked, astonished at the man's words.
Yasimov smiled wickedly. "Temple is dying. He blames Doctor Quest for his sickness. Temple no longer cares about the goals of The Consortium. He is consumed by his hate and he has trained young Quest better than he ever trained Bannon. He will kill Benton Quest and the weapon he uses will be Jonny."
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Race hung his head. Any type of movement just resulted in shooting pains of protest from his stressed joints and damaged muscles. He wasn't sure how long he sat in the chair this time, but his arms had gone numb from the awkward position they were in with his hands secured behind the back of the chair by the metal handcuffs.
Sweat and blood mixed together and fell to the floor in tiny, bubbly droplets. His mouth hung open, he breathing labored.
Seated across from Race was Temple. He'd brought in a metal chair and placed it directly across from his captive. Race could hear the man's manic grumbles of deep disturbing laughter.
"So, Racer," Temple spoke. "You know what I miss the most about being at I-1?"
Race didn't answer, instead letting Temple ramble on like he seemed to enjoy.
"Huh," Temple scoffed when Race didn't reply. "Man, it's been a long time, but what was her name? Oh…that's right…Estella. Yeah…Estella. Mmmm…yeah, she was fine indeed."
Temple achieved his desired result. Race slowly raised his head. "What?"
Smiling wickedly, Temple lit a cigarette and blew the resulting smoke in Race's face. "Oh, you didn't know? That's right…you married that slut, didn't you?"
"Watch your mouth, Greg." Race said. He tried to sound angry, but he was so weak, his words held no bite.
Temple laughed deeply. "I'm surprised you didn't know, Racer. Hell, the office pools for who she'd fuck in any given week was more fun than the ones we had for the Superbowl."
"You sick bastard, Greg. You're lying."
"Am I?" Temple puffed on his smoke. "Think about it, man. How many dates did you have to take her on before she threw herself at you? Did she blow you on the first date? She did me that way and man was it good."
"Shut up." Race spat.
"You think I'm the only one that tagged that fine piece of tail? No way, my friend. She threw it at all of us. Even your buddy Corbin had his go with her. Never thought he'd betray you, did you? What did you think they were doing on that mission in the Balkans all those months, huh? He fucked your wife, Racer. Multiple times. And to hear him tell it, she really enjoyed it." Greg laughed.
"No! Shut your trap, you fucking liar." Race growled, pushing against his restraints.
"You know," Temple grinned, "If you make it out of this, you should really get a blood test and make sure that raggedy little girl is really your kid. I mean, the odds aren't really in your favor."
"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch." Race shouted. The veins in his neck flared, a rush of emotion and rage jolting him to life.
Greg flinched backwards. Dropping his smoke and stubbing it out under the heel of his boot, he looked at his goons, "There's that fighting spirit. You see how it's done, boys? You can beat a man half to death and he'll never beg. But tell him that his wife is a whore and his kid a fuckin' bastard and he'll defend their worthless honor to the bitter end."
Standing, Temple sauntered over and slapped Race a couple times on the cheek. Race snarled. Greg pulled the stun gun from his belt. Jamming it into Race's chest, Temple laughed as Race shook from the surge of volts that coursed through his body.
"Beg, Racer. I want to hear you say it." Temple zapped Race again.
"Fuck you." Race spat, his teeth jarring from the volts running through his body.
"I can do this all day and all night." Temple replied. Taking a step back he set the stun gun down on his chair and knelt in front of Race. "Your wife is nothing but a whore. You daughter a little bitch."
Race scowled and spat a wad of blood in Temple's face. Greg wiped at his cheek, then looked at his hand, Race's disrespectful gesture seeming to amuse the older man. Looking back at his onetime friend, Greg smiled, "At least you still have a bit of fight in you. But not for long, buddy."
Standing, Temple grabbed a fistful of Race's hair, raising the man's head to him, then hit him in the face with his other fist. The resulting crack vibrated off the walls. "Ask me to stop and I'll stop."
"Never." Race breathed.
Temple shook his head then hit Race one more time before letting him go. Pacing, Greg acted as if he was deep in thought. After a few steps, he stopped in front of Race again. "You know, Racer, I just had an idea. I am going to kill you eventually, but perhaps I should show you more about that filthy wife of yours before I do."
"You're a fucking lunatic." Race grumbled, his head low again.
Temple cupped his chin in his hand as if in thought. "What do I have to do to prove it to you? Bring her here so you can watch as she does whatever I ask of her? I've already had my way with that other skank you hang out with. But she'll throw it at any man that steps in her path just to get her way. How's that feel, Racer? Knowing Jade sold you out to me?"
Race remained quiet; he didn't want to believe anything Temple was saying.
Greg laughed, "That's right. You can't say anything, but you're realizing that what I'm telling you is true. Every person you ever cared about, ever loved, has sold you out."
"You're the sellout, Greg." Race growled.
"Hardly, Bannon. I already told you I did what I did to prove a point."
"And it's going to be your undoing. All of this…you'll never get away with it." Race countered.
Temple shook his head. "Oh I have no intention of 'getting away with it'. All I want is to see each and every one of you dead as payment for what you did to me. If that means I get to take a few extras out along the way then all the more fun for me. I want every person to know it was me that did them in. That put the bullet between their eyes."
"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Greg." Race sneered. "I'm not like you, I don't enjoy killing, but in this case, I'm going to make an exception."
"I'd like to see you try, Racer." Greg retorted as he placed his hands on his hips and started Race down.
"Uncuff me and I'll do it right now." Race jerked against his restraints again, not caring about the pain it was causing him.
Temple tsked and waved a finger at Race. "I don't think so, Bannon."
"Coward." Race jeered.
Stepping forward, Temple lashed out, striking Race multiple times in the head and chest. Breathing heavily, he stepped back and watched Race slacken from the beating, blood pouring freely from his wounds.
"Next time you call me a coward, I'll take it personal." Temple spat. "For now, I have some other matters to attend to, namely another session with our lovely Jade."
Spinning on his heel, Temple departed, his guards falling in step behind him. The cell door slammed shut and the lights went out.
"Get back here, Temple." Race yelled in the dark. "Get back here, you worthless piece of shit."
No one responded. Puffing heavy breaths through his nose, Race was tense, staring at the door, but eventually he hung his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't imagine that anything Temple said was true, but the inkling of doubt remained. Neither Estella nor Jade would ever betray him; ever cheat on him. Or would they?
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Jonny wandered up to Anaya and tapped her on the shoulder. Turning, the daughter of Zin gave him a funny look then asked, "What is it, Jonny?"
"Any word from Greg?" Jonny asked.
It was late the following morning. After he'd blown off his frustrations at the range, his exhaustion had finally taken over. He'd returned to his room and slept through most of the morning, it was now almost lunchtime and one thing Jonny found himself being grateful for was that everyone seemed to leave him the hell alone.
Anaya glanced nervously towards her father, but the elder Zin was deep in conversation with Rage. They didn't even notice the young Quest boy when he'd entered the operations center.
Gesturing for Jonny to follow, Anaya led him to the far corner of the room. "I haven't heard from Greg."
Jonny huffed. "When the hell is he coming back?"
"I don't know, Jonny. I was hoping he'd have returned already."
"You don't think anything happened to him, do you?" He asked worriedly.
Anaya smiled. Jonny's affection for Temple appeared to match her own. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she replied, "I don't think so, Jonny. We both know that Temple can take care of himself."
Nodding, Jonny accepted her answer. "He'll come back though, right? He has to come back."
"He will. He has to come back to get you before the next mission."
"What is that mission? Please, Anaya, tell me. I'm going stir crazy here."
Anaya glanced over her shoulder briefly then back at Jonny, "I don't have the details, but I think you have to go back to see Van Brandt and deliver him the samples that Rage has created."
"What are they?"
"That I don't know, Jonny. Honestly, but Van Brandt needs them." She paused, debating what more to say, but then lowered her voice. "But when you do go, please make sure Greg talks to Temple about his medication. I'm afraid that he's been putting it off because he's so wrapped up in all of this other stuff. He needs that medication."
"I'll make sure he gets it. I don't want anything to happen to him either, Anaya." Jonny nodded.
"Thanks, Jonny. And thank you for caring about him too."
Jonny smiled. He was warming up the Zin twin; their mutual affection for Greg creating a bond between the former enemies that Jonny found both enlightening and refreshing. At least he wasn't alone again.
"I better get back to work." Anaya stated. "Why don't we meet for dinner later?"
"Okay." He agreed. Anaya gave him one last smile then returned to her father's side, leaving Jonny to stand in the corner.
Eventually he left the operations center. He went back to his room to take his mid-day drink and while he was there, he also partook in some of the drugs he still had from the other night.
His head was in the clouds as he wandered the halls of the medieval fortress. Not having a plan, he found himself heading towards the common rooms. Entering the recreational area, he noticed a few of the younger members glance at him warily, pausing in the middle of their games or conversations. After a few seconds they returned to what they were doing.
Taking a seat on one of the vacant couches, Jonny closed his eyes. His entire body tingled from the drugs; it was a great feeling. He heard voices. Opening his eyes, he saw the girls from the other night looking at him, but quickly turn away when he glanced in their direction. Frowning, he shook his head and stood. He needed some fresh air.
About to leave, he caught a glimpse of red from the corner of his eye.
Jessie?
He turned, but it wasn't Jessie. It was another girl. Her hair was a darker shade of red than his former girlfriend's, but it was just as long and her body just as enticing. Their eyes met and Jonny found himself smiling. He watched the girl bite the tip of her finger suggestively then wink, obviously not shy or concerned that she'd been caught staring.
'Nice.' He thought to himself. 'Real nice. I'll have to look her up later.'
With that, he exited the common room and found his way out into the bright afternoon sun.
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"There you are, Estella." Benton sighed with relief. He hadn't heard the woman return, but she was seated at the island of the kitchen, scribbling in her day planner.
"Benton, oh." Estella breathed, raising her head to look at the scientist. She shut the day planner before Benton could see what was in it. "I'm sorry, I thought you were in the lab."
"I was. Hadji and I are heading to D.C. to meet with Agent Dugger. We need to run some tests. Would you like to go? The Agents on security detail will remain here regardless." Benton made his way to the coffee pot and began making a fresh batch. Even though it was afternoon, he needed a little caffeine to help him push on.
"Actually, Benton, I think I'll be heading out as well for a while."
Benton paused and set the coffee grounds down. Studying the woman, he asked, "What do you mean?"
With a sigh, Estella stated her feelings. "Benton, you have no idea how much I appreciate you taking me in during all of this, but I can tell that I've been more of a burden than a help."
"That's absolutely not true, Estella."
"Isn't it? Benton, you're involved in your work. You're determined to get Jonny back safely, just as everyone else is. And everyone else has a role in getting Jonny back. I don't. There's nothing that I can help with at the moment. I know Jessie is with Phil and that she is safe and as much as I would rather she be here, I know she won't come back without Jonny."
"Where do you plan to go?" Benton asked, seeing that Estella had already made her decision and nothing he could say would make her change her mind. Maybe a short vacation, away from the stress and the I-1 Agents that roamed the grounds would actually help her clear her head.
Looking down, Estella fidgeted with her hands. Finally, she sighed and looked back up at Benton. "Well, I met someone the other day."
Benton smiled, "Estella, that's wonderful news."
"Really?" Estella was a little surprised at his reaction.
Nodding, Benton went to her and took her hands in his. "Of course it is. Estella, even with all this madness, we have to be able to continue on with our lives. If an opportunity presents itself and it makes you happy, then of course I support you. And you know that Jessie and even Race will as well. They just want you to be happy, Estella. That's all."
Estella felt herself choking up at Benton's kind words. Even with everything going on, he was still concerned about her happiness. Benton was a loving individual and his thoughtful and heartfelt statement made her feel more confident and alleviated some of her apprehensions about leaving with Kreed.
"Thank you, Benton." She managed to stammer without crying.
"Where will you be heading?"
"Europe." Estella beamed.
"You let me know when you get there, okay?"
"I will and thank you, Benton. Thank you for understanding."
Benton wrapped her up in a tight embrace. His strong arms gave her the support she needed at the moment. "Of course, Estella. Of course."
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Feeling a hand gently shaking her, Karla opened her eyes. Blinking, she hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep. Her body was sore from the uncomfortable waiting room chair and her arm tingled from propping her head up in her hand for so long.
"Wha…" She mumbled.
"Hey there." Matt Velk smiled at the woman. Taking a seat, he looked at his colleague, "How is he?"
"Recovering from surgery." Karla yawned. "I must have fallen asleep."
"I spoke to the attending nurse before coming to find you. She said we can see him for a few minutes." Velk smiled.
Karla liked Agent Velk. Just like Dugger and Bannon, he carried himself in a professional, yet intimidating manner, but just like the other two men, he was pretty much a big teddy bear.
"Yes, let's go see him." Shaking off the last of her sleep, Karla stood and steadied herself again Matt's arm. She noticed he carried a bag in his other hand.
The two Agents made their way to Roberts' private room. Knocking gently, they stepped inside and saw that Roberts was awake, but still heavily medicated.
Moving to the bed, Karla took Terry's hand in hers and smiled. "How are you feeling, TerBear?"
"Hey you," Roberts smiled. His face was heavily bandaged and his injured arm was still propped up in a sling, but he was so drugged up it appeared he wasn't feeling any pain. "muñeca."
Karla smiled and kissed him gently on the forehead.
Matt came over to look at his friend. He tried not to frown at Terry's injuries. "Hey, partner."
Dropping Karla's hand, Terry chuckled and pointed at Velk's busted forehead. "What happened to you?"
"A redhead with a gun." Velk smirked. He held up the gift bag, "The guys and gals back Headquarters pooled some money together and got you a get-well gift."
"Sweet." Roberts grinned.
Velk set the bag on Terry's lap and helped him open it since Roberts only had one good hand at the moment. Inside the bag was a get-well card that Karla assisted Terry with opening. Reading it he smiled and set it down. Digging further in the bag he pulled out a stuffed animal horse, complete with saddle, bridle, and fluffy mane.
"A cowboy needs his horse." Matt smiled.
Karla smiled, choking up a little at the gesture.
Roberts held the little toy in his hand, examining it like it was a real animal. Karla and Matt exchanged looks, chalking Terry's silly behavior up to the drugs that were still in his system.
"He's cute," Terry responded. Looking at Velk, he added, "Just like you."
"Hey now." Velk raised his hands. "I'm spoken for and so are you, tough guy!"
"That's right." Karla stated playfully.
"Tough guy." Terry chuckled, but winced from a shot of pain. "Where's the other tough guy?"
Velk assumed Roberts meant the other Agents. "Bannon is still MIA and Phil is with Jessie. Dug went back to D.C. to meet with Doctor Quest."
Roberts shook his head, "Not them. The tough guy that did this to my face."
Velk's brow furrowed. "Do you remember anything about him?"
Terry appeared to be thinking. Finally he whispered, "Murcielago."
"What?" Karla asked, confused.
Velk looked across the bed at Altine. "What did he say?"
"He said bat." Karla answered. "Like the animal."
"A man like a bat? Like Batman?" Velk muttered. "I think the drugs are getting to your head, my man."
Roberts tried to shake his head. "No, not Batman. He's not real. I mean like a bat. A bat with a human skull for a face."
Karla frowned. "Terry, you're not making sense." Looking at Velk, she added, "We should let him get his rest."
Velk didn't seem to hear her. He was studying Roberts with a look akin shock. "What do you mean a skull for a face?"
"His face was like a skull and he wore a hat and had wings like a bat."
"Shit." Velk grumbled. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his phone.
"What is it?" Karla asked. "Who is he talking about?"
Velk gave her a pleading look as he placed a call. "I need to tell Phil."
"What? What is going on?"
Velk grumbled and hung up the phone, no answer from the other end. Dialing a new number he called Agent Dugger. When the phone call connected, Velk spoke immediately into the speaker phone, "Dug, its Matt. Can you get in touch with Corbin?"
"I'll try. Why? What's going on? Is Terry alright?"
"He's okay, still loopy from the surgery. But you need to get a message to Phil. I tried calling him but he didn't answer. He's probably in transit and doesn't have signal."
"What is going on?" Karla demanded.
Roberts had gone back to playing with the stuffed horse.
"Dug, listen to me. You have to get a message to Phil. I think I know who attacked Roberts."
"Who?" Both Dugger and Karla asked at the same time.
"Phil told me about this guy after talking with Jessie at the Quest Compound. His name is Ezekiel Rage."
"Can't be. Rage is dead." Dugger replied.
"I don't think so." Velk answered. "And here's the thing, Pete. Rage isn't just Rage, man. It's Grimm."
A pause, then Dugger breathed. "What?"
"Ezekiel Rage is Argus Grimm."
"Are you sure?" Dugger asked.
"I don't know, never met the guy, but Phil was convinced of it. But, like you, he believes Rage is dead."
"If Rage is Grimm, then he's going to wish he was dead, because I'll kill that fucking traitor myself if I get my hands on him." Dugger growled, even thru the phone Karla heard the menace in the man's voice.
"Not if I get to him first." Karla grumbled.
"Warn Phil that Grimm is alive. Karla and I will stay with Roberts." Velk said.
"Don't let anyone you don't know near him, Matt."
"Got it, brother." Velk nodded even though Dugger couldn't see him. "Let me know once you talk to Corbin."
"Will do." Dugger stated then ended the call.
"Who is this Rage guy? Or Grimm or whatever the hell his name is?" Karla asked, her eyes looking to her injured boyfriend with grave concern.
"Terry's lucky to be alive, Karla. Rage is an evil man and if he finds out that he didn't kill Terry he'll come back to finish the job. But we're not going to let that happen."
"Damn right." Karla declared.
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As the train sped along the rails, Jessie watched the darkened countryside zip by as Phil removed his jacket and rummaged through his bag. Turning away from the window, she watched the man that only days before had tricked her into believing he was dead. Ever since they'd left the ICC detention center, Phil was reserved, only speaking to her when it was necessary. He purchased the train tickets and now they shared a sleeper car, traveling through the night in order to reach Nuremburg.
Watching him closely, she knew he was distraught. He'd learned that a man that he'd thought was dead, a man that had once been his friend, was in fact alive and working for an organization unlike any they'd face to date.
He sat down on the edge of the car's small bed and began wiping down his handgun. He didn't look at Jessie; he was lost in his own thoughts.
Uncomfortable with the silence, Jessie finally spoke. "So, who is this Greg Temple character?"
Phil's eyes went to Jessie for a moment before returning to his task. Wiping down the weapon, he sighed and spoke, "Greg Temple used to work for I-1. He was your dad's partner when Race was a rookie. We thought he died during an operation in Greenland, but he resurfaced years later at one of our training facilities."
"I recall Jonny telling me about that. Something about cloaking technology."
Phil nodded. "Greg used the cloaking mask to disguise himself as me to lure Race to the island. He forced Race and Jonny to run the obstacle course he'd altered into some sick death race. He then acted like one of Race's enemies, a criminal named Lucius Kreed. In the end, your father exposed Temple, but the island exploded and we thought Greg was really dead that time, but it appears he survived."
"Why does he hate my dad so much?"
"I have no idea, Jess. Like I said, we thought he was dead." Phil replied.
"So Temple is behind The Consortium?"
"It would appear that way," Phil answered. Straightening his back, he finally looked over at Jessie. "But..."
"But what?" Jessie encouraged.
Phil scratched the side of his face. "I just don't see Temple being able to organize and run such an in-depth and far reaching entity like The Consortium. I don't think it's just him that's behind all of this. There has to be more."
"What makes you say that?"
"I received a report from the U.N. a few weeks back about a biological outbreak in the Horn of Africa. I could be wrong, but it reminded me of something that happened years ago and it doesn't feel like Greg's style. Greg may have turned into a sadistic madman, but I can't see him launching biological attacks against an innocent populace. Hell, it might not even be related."
"But your gut says otherwise." Jessie smirked.
"Yeah."
"And you I-1 Agents trust your gut. My dad is the same way."
"Right." The mention of Race seemed to jar something in Phil. Holstering his weapon, he looked at the daughter of his best friend. "Jess, this is turning into something bigger than I first anticipated. We have to work on the assumption that when we find both your dad and Jonny, they may be suffering far worse than we assumed. We'll have to tread lightly."
Jessie nodded. A quiet awkwardness engulfed the sleeping car once again. Phil clasped his hand behind his neck and hung his head, staring at the floor while Jessie pondered the possibilities of what they were truly up against.
Thinking back to her training, she decided to help alleviate some of Phil's tension by talking about how she'd performed up to this point.
"You know, Phil," Jessie started. "Before we go any further I need to say this. I understand what you did was necessary, but it was still kind of an asshole thing to do to me. But, I'm over it now and I'm ready to learn from any mistakes I made not only that morning, but during the entire week."
Giving her a look, Phil replied kindly. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you, Jess. It wasn't an easy decision, but it was one I had to make. Agent Blake didn't want me to go through with it, not after all you had been through and definitely not after you told me what happened to you. So, again, I'm sorry if I hurt you."
Jessie lips curled into a little smile. "Apology accepted. Let's move on. You promised to tell me what I did wrong during your test."
He seemed relieved for the change of subject. "Your first mistake, like I already told you was not checking your weapon. If you had done that you'd have seen the blockage and I would have called off the simulation. But you didn't, you assumed it was as you left it."
"I had no reason to think otherwise." Jessie countered.
"You never assume." Phil remarked. "You always verify. But one thing you will learn over time is the feel of your weapon. I can pick up my handgun and tell you exactly how many rounds are loaded simply by the weight. It's a skill you'll develop over time."
Jessie nodded. "What else?"
"The rest of the scenario at the farmhouse played out fairly well. You followed my instructions and moved accordingly. You listened, observed and reacted appropriately in order to neutralize the threats. If I had to gig you for something, I would say your error was simply following me and what I did. You should have recognized that we needed to clear the house before moving outside."
"I thought you were in charge."
"A good leader is always open to suggestions, even on the spot ones in life and death situations. If you had stopped me from going to the door, we would have discovered Velk and the others beforehand since they were lying in wait in the kitchen."
Jessie nodded her understanding, so he continued. "Like I already told you before, you did do well thinking on your feet. Throwing your weapon at Velk gave you enough time to react and either fight or flee. After I was shot, you should have gone for my weapon. Since you didn't, my attacker acted as if I had shot him and his hesitation helped you determine your next move, whether you realized it or not. Unarmed, you grabbed your laptop, which you knew you'd need, and you fled, following my instructions. No one pursued you because as soon you left the property that part of the scenario was over."
"Okay." Jessie nodded, soaking in his feedback.
"Next you went to the McDonalds and even in your distraught state you knew you had to keep moving."
"Wait," Jessie held up a hand. "How did you know where I'd go?"
"I didn't." Phil answered. "The car was equipped with a tracking device. After you left, Elise, my men and I sat in the kitchen drinking coffee, listening to Matt grumble about his busted open forehead, and monitoring your progress. Once you were at the restaurant, we got cleaned up and Velk and I headed to the airport."
"You are an asshole." Jessie remarked, but in a lighthearted manner.
Phil laughed, "Bannons, I swear. Anyways, we kept tabs on you all the way to Cincinnati and through Scotland. I took a risk by having Velk sit next to you, but I recalled that you'd only met him once at Doctor Quest's house and it was dark outside when you spoke to us. He sat next to you, effectively blocking you in, in case there were any threats on the plane that we didn't know about. He was there to protect you."
"Where were you? I didn't see you at all." Jessie stated.
"I stayed out of your sight, but I was there. I boarded the plane after you and Velk and sat in first class. I deplaned prior to you as well."
Jessie grumbled a laugh, "No wonder I didn't get a first class ticket."
Phil smirked, "Anyways, the last mistake you made was letting me sneak up behind you in the cellar."
"Where were you? In that side room?"
He nodded, "I was behind a pallet of boxes. I saw you look in and I thought you'd find me, but when Robbie made that noise to distract you, you took the bait."
"What was I supposed to do? I was alone." Jessie confessed.
"You could have retreated back up the stairs, thus abandoning the mission long enough to develop a new plan of action."
"Not an option as I was working on a tight timetable." Jessie declared.
"Right," Phil nodded. "What you should have done was kept both rooms in your sight the entire time, moved with your back to the interior wall. The moment you left my room behind without clearing it, I knew I had you."
Jessie sighed and shook her head. "I fucked up."
"It was a test, Jessie. That's how we learn from our mistakes."
"I could have been killed. I bet my dad never did anything so stupid."
Phil threw his head back and laughed. "Jess, we all fuck up. Your dad is no different. In fact, when this is all over you should ask him about the first time he met Jade."
"That hussy," Jessie crossed her arms and huffed. "What did she do to him?"
"She fucked him up is what she did." Phil laughed.
"He told us that story, but I don't remember that part." Jessie replied.
"Ask him for the uncensored version of our mission in Prague." Phil chuckled.
Jessie eyed him for a moment, then smiled. "What about you?"
"Me? I've fucked up more times than I can count." Phil replied. "For example, you remember how I said I owed my life to your dad?"
She nodded.
Turning his head, Phil ran his finger along his hairline, pointing at a faint but long scar she never noticed before. "Without divulging too many details, let's just say that a particularly nasty individual got the upper hand on me when I was on a solo mission years ago. Your old man found out where I was being held and came after me; we don't leave anyone behind. However, before he got there, my 'host' gave me this scar as a reminder of my time at his villa…brass knuckles can leave gashes as you can see."
"You got beat with brass knuckles?" Jessie asked wide eyed.
"Yep," Phil smirked. "You ever see a head wound bleed? I swear, I thought I was going to bleed to death. He also broke three bones on the side of my face and my nose." Joking he added, "It's amazing I've retained my stunningly good looks. But, I still get really horrendous headaches from time to time because of it and that was over a decade ago. Eventually the goon would have killed me, but your dad got there before he decided I was no longer of value."
"Damn." Jessie breathed.
"So like I said, Jessie, we all fuck up. Learn from your mistakes and move on." Stretching, Phil stood and changed the subject. "It's a long journey to Nuremburg. We should get some rest, but sleep in shifts."
"You go ahead, I'm not all that tired right now." Jessie responded. "I'll wake you up in a few hours."
"You shouldn't have to, but if you need to leave, you wake me up before doing so. Understood?" He asked as he pulled his shirt off over his head and stepped into the small bathroom compartment. Jessie didn't say anything, but she saw his other scars, one of his chest and two on his back; scars caused by her mother's attempt to kill him. Jessie shook her head, that incident seemed like a lifetime ago.
A few minutes later he emerged, put on a clean shirt and maneuvered his way into the barely big enough bottom bed. Jessie watched as he removed his weapon and holster and set it in a position on the mattress where only he could access it. Within minutes he was sound asleep.
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"Hey, Ace." Jonny placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder. For most of the day, he'd done nothing but wander around, get high, and think about the redhead he'd seen earlier. He was high now and the drugs gave him the jolt he desired. If Jonny could have his way, he'd stay high all the time; it made him feel invincible.
Turning, she smiled when she saw the hungry look in his eyes. "Hey, yourself."
He heard the other girls grumble. Looking up at them he smirked, then looked back at the redhead. Speaking loud enough for the others to hear, he asked, "You want to come have a little party with me? Just the two of us?"
"Hell yeah." The girl beamed. "I hear you get the best stuff."
Nodding, he replied, "That I do, babe. Come on, let's go back to my room."
Arm over her shoulder, Jonny led the girl out of the common room. He could feel the glares of the two girls he dissed the night before burning a hole in the back of his head. He didn't care. No one challenged him and no one made a move to stop him. It was at that moment that Jonny realized just how much power he had amongst the younger members of The Consortium. Temple's tutelage may have had something to do with it, but Jonny knew that word about his accomplishments had spread quickly at the castle and it boosted his confidence and his standing to an almost legendary status. From what he'd heard, only Temple had more respect among the younger crowd.
It was a short trip back to his room and the moment he shut the door, the redhead was all over him. Pushing herself against Jonny, she kissed him, jamming her tongue through his lips.
"Slow down, Ace," Jonny grinned once their lips parted. "We've got all night."
"I've fantasied about this ever since I first set eyes on you, Quest." The girl stated.
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a vial of drugs and a baggie of pills he'd gotten from his friend Andrew. "Wanna get a little crazy?"
Nodding, the girl followed Jonny to the couch. He'd barely spread the cocaine on the table before she was leaning down and snorting it up. He grinned and did the same. Next he handed her a pill from the baggie.
"Ecstasy." He stated.
She didn't seem to care what it was; she popped it in her mouth immediately.
Her hands were all over him, pulling his shirt off over his head. She smiled wickedly at his muscled chest, arms, and abs. "Been working out, I see?" She winked. She ran her tongue along his chest, teasing his nipples.
"I have a lot of free time as of late." Jonny chuckled. He slinked his hands through her hair, taking the sight of her in. Her dark red mane made him wild.
Moving back up, she kissed his lips again. "I like your tattoo."
"Thanks." Jonny smiled.
"When will you get your other one?" Her hand working to undo his pants.
"I didn't bring you here to talk about body art." Jonny growled. He pressed his mouth to her neck, sucking and teasing her.
Her hand was down his pants. He groaned as she grasped him.
"What did you bring me here for?" She purred, moving to kneel in front of him.
"Because I want you." He whispered, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "I want you so bad, Jess. So bad."
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Shortly after passing through Cologne Jessie felt her eyelids starting to get heavy. Phil was still asleep, his deep breathing telling Jessie he was more exhausted than he had let on. She moved to the restroom, freshened up and then stepped back into the compartment intent on getting a little sleep before they reached their final destination.
Closing the bathroom door, she heard voices outside their room. Pausing, she strained to listen and placed her ear against the door hoping it would drown out the noise of the rail so she could distinguish the words of the men outside.
"Have you seen these two?" The first voice asked. "A man and girl traveling together. They probably told you they were father and daughter."
Jessie held her breath.
"I am not sure." The second voice replied. To Jessie it sounded like the train manager.
"I believe they are Americans." The first voice spoke with a hint of annoyance.
"I am an old man, I cannot remember every face that comes and goes. Most customers on this rail prefer their privacy." The manager replied.
Jessie pressed harder against the door. It sounded like the manager was stepping away, but a thud and a muffled cry, followed by a wet gurgling sound told a graver tale.
They had to move quickly. Stepping away, Jessie placed a hand on Phil's mouth and shook him awake. His eyes opened immediately. She removed her hand as he checked and secured his weapon. She flashed a number of hand signals at him. With a nod, he moved into the bathroom and partially closed the door. Jessie climbed into the top bunk and pressed herself against the wall, concealing herself from the door. Remembering what Phil told her, she doubled checked her weapon and waited.
The handle of the room's door jiggled, then the door slid open. The assassin was fast, moving into the room, sweeping his suppressed handgun in front of him, scanning what appeared to be an empty car. Eyeing the bathroom, he began to turn just as Phil sprung from his hiding spot. The killer, dressed in a suit and tie, grunted when Phil rammed his shoulder into him, knocking him off balance. An expert in his profession, the man kept a hold of his weapon as Phil twisted and launched his knee into the man's groin.
Sneering, the goon staggered from the blow then swung his elbow out, connecting with the side of Phil's head. Falling to the floor of the cramped compartment, Phil rolled to his back as the assassin stood over him, feet planted on either side of the downed Agent and took a bead on Corbin's head.
Lashing out, Phil kicked the man's knee while at the same time rolling to the side, causing the assailant to stumble as he fired, the bullet smacking with a suppressed whizz into the carpeted floor of the car.
The man grumbled under his breath. Repositioning his feet, he bent down in an effort to grab Phil by the shirt.
"Hey, asshole!" Jessie yelled.
The man paused and looked up just as Jessie leaned out from her hiding spot and fired. Her round smacked into the assassin's arm. His eyes went wide and Jessie tucked her pistol into her waistband, grabbed a bar on the ceiling's luggage rack and swung off of the bunk in a sweeping arc. Her momentum propelled her forward and locking her knees she kicked out, planting both feet firmly into the goon's chest, sending him spiraling out of the door to smack against the interior wall of the train's hull.
With a snarl, he attempted to recover, but Jessie let go of the bar the moment her feet impacted with her target and dropped to the floor in a crouch, straddling Corbin's legs. Ignoring him, Jessie retrieved her firearm, took aim at the threat and without hesitation, fired. Squeezing off three quick shots, the bullets smacked into the man. He dropped to his knees and Jessie fired again, placing a round squarely between the man's eyes, killing him instantly.
Remaining still, Jessie waited, but when no other threats emerged, she determined that only the lone assassin had been sent. "You okay?" She asked, her body able to relax.
"I'm getting too old for this shit." Phil grumbled as he stood. "Nice work, Bannon." He added approvingly while moving past her. He did a quick check on the hall, then stepped out to grab the dead man's pistol.
Handing the weapon to Jess, Phil moved to the next compartment and cautiously opened the door. "Damn." He shook his head as Jessie joined him. Inside was the train manager, his throat shredded by the killer's garrote. "Poor bastard." Phil mumbled. It had been a quick death, but a painful one and Corbin felt sorry for the old man.
"Come on, change of plans, Jess. Put that pistol in your bag. We'll dispose of it later." Phil ordered. He grabbed the dead assassin and pulled him into the compartment with the deceased worker.
"What now?" She stood guard in the doorway. Phil quickly searched the killer's body, discovering a wad of cash and two pictures, one of each of them.
"Whoever sent this asshole knows who we are." Phil said as he pocketed the cash and showed Jessie the photos.
"You think Yasimov sent him?"
"Maybe." He replied. He exited the compartment and shut the door. Jessie watched him manipulate the handle until he successfully jammed the lock. "That will only keep someone out for so long. Gather up our things, we get off in Frankfurt."
"Alright." Jessie nodded. "I assume from there we'll still head to Nuremburg?"
"We'll get a car and drive." He explained. "The Consortium is bigger than we first thought."
"It is and that's why we need stop them at all costs." Jessie remarked while packing her bag hastily.
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Jonny's eyes fluttered, his mind drifting into unconsciousness. His redheaded companion rested next to him. His arm draped over her naked body, his fingers lazily brushing against her breasts; she moaned in her sleep from his touch.
He nuzzled his face in her hair, drinking in the sweet scent of his companion's gorgeous red locks. Moving his hand, Jonny combed his fingers through her hair, enthralled by its softness.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled then breathed, "Jessie, oh, Jessie, you were amazing."
Jessie's smiling face appeared in his mind, the last image he saw before his body gave in and he fell asleep.
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To Be Continued...