The Letter

by vega2

Michael's efforts to see that a letter reaches the right hands put him in danger.

THE LETTER

By Vega

It had not been an easy week and Michael was tired, sore and desperately in need of some time off. So when he received the summons to Devon Miles' office he was not in the best of moods.

It had been a particularly hard assignment, not just physically but emotionally. He had traveled hundreds of miles to a small town in the mid west to help locate a runaway girl. In the end she didn't want to be found and despite all of Michael's efforts she returned to the world she couldn't escape from. She died at seventeen, and no one, except for Michael, seemed to care.

"Michael, I know you are tired. I would not ask this of you if it were not of the utmost importance." Devon said, motioning Michael to take a seat in one of the guest chairs facing his desk. "K.I.T.T. filled me in on all the details. I'm sorry it turned out as it did. But you must know that you did all you could."

"Not enough, obviously." Michael said flatly.

"According to K.I.T.T., more than enough."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Devon knew the emotional toll these assignments had on Michael. But he also knew that that was what made him so good at what he did. He cared. Sometimes too much.

"I had a visitor earlier today who is in need of our help." Devon said. He waited for Michael to respond.

Michael stared blankly at him. Too tired to care.

"His name is Dan Chapman," Devon forged ahead. "He is a local Private Detective."

"Devon, give me a break." Michael moaned.

"Please," Devon held up a hand, "before you jump to conclusions, just hear him out. I have arranged a meeting for four O'clock this afternoon. That gives you," he checked the clock on his desk, "four hours to rest."

"Wow," Michael rolled his eyes, "four whole hours."

"Michael," Devon cautioned, "This could potentially turn into a time bomb. I only ask that you meet with him first before you draw any stereotypical conclusions."

"A P.I.?" Michael sank deeper into his chair. "What next?"

"Michael, may I remind you that you drive around in a talking car?"

Michael had no come back for that one. "Alright," he sighed, "what's the address?"

"Bonnie will relay all the necessary information to K.I.T.T.. Meanwhile, why don't you try to get some rest?"

Michael nodded and left the office leaving Devon to wonder how much longer he could keep up this lifestyle. Wilton Knight's dream had succeeded far beyond anyone's expectations, especially Devon's. And so had Michael's workload. After this case, no matter what, Devon decided that Michael would take a long vacation. Away from everything, everyone connected to the Foundation. Yes, he decided, even K.I.T.T.. It would do them both good. Bonnie had been pestering him of late to ground K.I.T.T. long enough for her to do a through inspection of all his systems. It was done then. After this assignment Michael would take a month off. Satisfied, Devon return to the stack of paper work on his desk.

K.I.T.T. slowly pulled into the parking lot of a small two-story building. The bottom floor housed an Italian restaurant, The Alimento di Amore. The top floor appeared to be some kind of office.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Michael inquired skeptically.

"Yes Michael. 107 Turlock Place, #2 is the correct address."

"Great. All right. Find everything you an on this Chapman guy. If we're going to be working together I want to know everything about him including what he eats for breakfast."

"That may be difficult Michael. There are so many food groups associated with breakfast."

"Relax K.I.T.T. It was just a figure of speech. Just the usual stuff will do."

"Yes Michael."

Michael headed up the steep stairs that led to the second floor and a narrow hallway leading to the only door on that floor. He rapped lightly on the flimsy door.

"The door's open." A woman's voice called.

Michael entered a small cluttered office. Two desks sat in the center of the room, each piled high with paperwork. Sitting behind one of the desks a young dark haired woman sat. Michael guessed she was no older than twenty-one, twenty-two. Her dark brown hair was cut short accenting her large black-brown eyes.

"You must be Michael Knight." She grinned. "Have a seat." She pointed to a sagging couch by the wall, "Dan will be right back."

Michael decided he felt more comfortable standing.

"You want a cup of coffee or something?" She asked, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

"No thanks. When do you expect him back?"

"Any sec."

To Michaels's astonishment the young woman pushed herself away from the desk sitting in a wheelchair.

"Don't worry." She laughed at his look of surprise and embarrassment. "I get the same reaction form everyone. No big deal. A boating accident a few years ago." She wheeled over to him and extended her hand, "My name's Darlene. You sure you don't want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks. Have you known Dan Chapman long?"

"Since the accident. He was on another boat when it happened. He saved my life, more ways than one. When I got out of rehab he offered me this job. I took it in a flash."

"Nice guy."

"The best. Dan said you worked for some kind of big time organization. I thought you'd look different…" she said admiring his black leather jacket and tight black jeans, "you know, straight laced, three piece suit and tie type."

Michael flashed her an easy grin, "I don't even own a three-piece suit."

Darlene smiled. That didn't surprise her. She studied the man standing before her. He was definitely T.D.H. Tall, dark and handsome. Six-foot-four at least.

The door behind them suddenly slammed open and a man balancing an arm full of take-out food containers rushed into the room.

"Hey Michael, sorry I'm late. I was starving so I bought enough food for the three of us. Hope you're hungry. The best Italian food this side of Italy." He set the food down on the desk, ignoring the paperwork. "I appreciate you coming. When I spoke to Devon Miles he said you were just off another case. I know how tough these piggy-back cases can be." He turned, extending his hand. "Dan Chapman, if you haven't already guessed. I see you met Darlene."

Michael nodded.

"Good. We eat first, then we talk. Can't do business on an empty stomach." He reached into his desk and pulled out a half empty bottle of wine. "And you can't eat Italian without a good bottle of vino," he grinned.

Michael looked at the label. He wasn't much of a drinker but he knew it wasn't from the local Seven Eleven. He watched Chapman busy himself with the task of delving out large portions of the Italian food onto paper plates and handing one to Darlene. "Any calls?" he asked her, an edge to his voice underlining the smiles.

She shook her head.

He handed Michael a plate. Michael reluctantly took a seat on the rumpled couch but was pleasantly surprised when he tasted the food. "This is good." He said around a mouth full of ravioli.

"From downstairs. It's one of the reasons I picked this place for my office. It certainly wasn't for the decor."

Michael found himself liking Dan Chapman. He was just under six feet, dark hair and dark brown eyes. He could see muscles flexing beneath the tight white Polo shirt. The man obviously worked out.

Before Michael knew it he had finished the entire plate. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. "Devon said.." he began but Chapman waved him off.

Dan turned to Darlene, "Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off." He offered.

"You sure?" She asked hopefully.

He nodded. "But be back here at nine A.M. tomorrow morning. We still have to finish the paper work on the Bradshaw case."

"I'll be here with bells on." She laughed, wheeling toward a small elevator door Michael had not noticed before.

"Clothes would be better." He called as the elevator door closed.

Chapman collected the plates then turned back to Michael, his demeanor changed. "I didn't want Darlene involved in this."

"Exactly what is this?" Michael asked. K.I.T.T. had run through some preliminaries with him on their way over but they had been sketchy, at best. Dan Chapman owned and operated a small P.I. agency for the past five years. Before that his history seemed to be a bit murky. He needed Flag's help, and Devon found it important enough to send Michael out even though he had barely enough time to unpack from his last assignment.

Dan rolled one of the desk chairs over to face Michael. "You ever heard of Diego De Martiz?"

Michael shook his head. He surreptitiously looked down at his comlink. He knew K.I.T.T. was listening and before he retuned to the car he would have all the information available on De Martiz.

"He's the third largest Columbian drug lord in South America. He's shooting for numero uno. Six months ago he was spotted here meeting with a local up and comer, Justin Carter."

The name struck a nerve. Justin Carter was a cold-blooded killer who hid behind his henchmen while they terrorized a small Southern California town three years ago. Before Michael was able to drive him and his men out of town they had killed seven people and left most of the buildings in ashes. Tipped off that the authorities were on their way, Carter slipped out of sight. Michael would never forget that name.

"You know him?"

"We met." Michael said tersely. "The last time I heard about him he was running for cover with his tail between his legs."

"Not any more. With De Matriz's backing he's regained all his power and then some."

"How do you know all this?"

"I have connections. None I can divulge right now."

"I get the picture." Michael said grimly, "But what can I do? Flag isn't into organized crime."

"I know, Devon said the same thing. But I'm coming to you because this has just gotten personal. Three weeks ago a very good friend of mine was killed. She was deep undercover in De Martiz's inner sanctum. She got burned some how."

"I'm sorry. But I still don't see.."

"Before she died she mailed a letter to a safe house somewhere here in town. It has all the names and locations of De Martiz's contacts here in the states."

Michael whistled. "That could blow a pretty big hole in his operation."

"If the Feds could connect Carter to De Martiz then Carter is facing life without the possibility of parole."

"And De Martiz's would lose his hold on the states."

"A big chunk of it at least."

"I still don't see how I can help you."

"I need to find that letter. And fast. Whatever Carter and De Martiz have cooking it's going to happen soon. Even with my resources I haven't been able to come up with it. I was hoping with your help we could crack this thing wide open."

"Sounds intriguing. Well, for whatever it's worth, I'm onboard."

"It's worth a lot Michael. But before you agree, I've got to worn you, these guys play for keeps. It won't be a walk in the park."

"It seldom is," Michael reflected sadly.

After going through all the information Dan had available Michael decided it was time to introduce him to K.I.T.T. There was no way he could keep him out of the loop on this one. K.I.T.T. would need to be present every step of the way. Michael had a nagging feeling that this was not going to be an easy case.

"Come on," he said heading for the door. "It's time you met my partner. He's down in the car."

"Was that your black Tans Am downstairs?" Dan asked with a glint in his eye. "She's a beauty."

"He." Michael corrected.

Michael always found that people had two reactions to their first introduction to K.I.T.T.: Mild surprise and acceptance, or absolute disbelief.

Dan Chapman fell into the second category. He slowly walked around the car running his hand over the smooth skin. "Soft as a baby's skin." He said. "I don't think I've ever seen a paint job quite like it."

"You haven't." Michael touched the passenger door and it automatically popped opened.

"Nice touch. Remote control?"

"Not exactly."

"Then how..?"

"Have a seat."

Dan slid into the passenger seat. What he saw was beyond comprehension. Every inch of space on the dash and the roof was filled with buttons and switches. Two video monitors, angled toward the driver were mounted in the dash just above his knees. Michael slid into the drivers seat and comfortably grabbed the yoke style steering wheel.

"How about a spin around the block?" He grinned.

The engine roared to life without Michael touching a thing.

Dan felt the power of the turbine engine beneath his seat and Michael easily pulled out into the light traffic. They drove three more blocks until Michael hit the onramp to the freeway. Almost instantly they were up to seventy miles an hour.

"What kind of car is this?" Dan started to reach for one of the buttons on the dash…

"Please Mr. Chapman, keep your hands to yourself." Someone with a slight Boston accent said.

He looked at Michael who still wore a delighted grin.

Dan snatched his hand back. "Did you say something?"

Michael shook is head.

"I did." The voice said.

Dan looked around the cockpit. No one else was in the car. He looked to Michael for an explanation.

"It's the car." Michael chuckled.

"The car?"

"Please Mr. Chapman," K.I.T.T. chided, "I am far from just a car. I am the Knight Industries 2000. I am the most sophisticated car in the world."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Here we go again." He muttered.

"A car that talks?"

"No." K.I.T.T. corrected patiently. "A computer that talks. I am a highly advanced A.I. housed inside the molecular bonded shell of this vehicle. I have been programmed to assist Michael in the field. A very difficult job I might add.."

"K.I.T.T.." Michael warned.

"I don't believe this." Dan said.

"It gets better. Watch this." Michael tripped a series of buttons. "K.I.T.T., what do you have on De Martiz?"

"Not a lot Michael." K.I.T.T. answered. "Diego De Martiz is, as Mr. Chapman said, the head of the third largest drug cartel in South America. He has been quietly over taking smaller cartels for the past three years. He has been spotted in the states twice in the past six months. Speculation is that he is poised to over throw his two largest competitors."

Dan looked at Michael stunned.

"What about our friend Carter?" Michael continued.

"Must I Michael? He is such a despicable human being. After what he did to you and.."

"K.I.T.T… "

"Very well. Justin Chapman was last seen in the vicinity of Diego De Martiz's last known whereabouts. Coincidentally, after De Matiz's first visit to the states Chapman gained his first substantial foothold in the local cartels. He has been climbing the ladder every since."

"There is nothing coincidental about it." Dan said, for the moment forgetting who was doing the talking. "The two of them have something big planned. That letter could be the key."

"All right then, we find that letter." Michael agreed.

"But how?"

"We start with the basics. How did you know your friend would send the letter to a safe house?"

"The last time I talked to her she said that things were getting hot. She had a lead on the letter. I begged her to get out while she still could. But she was always stubborn."

"It sounds like you two were close."

"As close as she could allow." Dan said sadly. "She said if anything went sour that she would mail it to a safe house, here. She was supposed to get back to me with the address…"

"It would be someplace or someone she knew." Michael thought out loud.

"Mr. Chapman, may I see the letter?" K.I.T.T. asked.

Dan looked at Michael, bewildered.

Michael touched what appeared to be a cigarette tray to the left of the video screens. A small drawer popped out. "K.I.T.T. can scan the letter." Michael explained.

Dan dug the letter out of his back pants pocket and placed it in the tray. "How did you know I had it? He asked.

"I scanned you as you got in for hidden weapons of any kind. I happened to notice the letter. Its folded creases are well worn. You have opened and closed that letter many times." K.I.T.T. observed.

"What else do you know about me?" Dan asked, feeling a little exposed.

"You'll get used to it." Michael smiled.

K.I.T.T's right monitor came to life and a letter appeared on the screen.

Dan,

Things are moving fast. If I don't make

it out I will send the info to our safe house.

Love, always

"She refers to *our safe house *" Michael said studying the monitor. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"No. I caught that myself. But, no."

"Well, she apparently thought that you knew what she was talking about. Have you thought of everything? Even the most obscure thing?"

"I've wracked my brains. Nothing."

"Perhaps if you verbalized your thoughts we might pick up on something." K.I.T.T. suggested.

"Good idea Pal. Three heads are better then one. Did you two have a special meeting place?"

"Not here. The only time we were together was in Paris."

"Where in Paris?"

"We stayed at a small flat in the garment district. 3772 Rue Merlot."

"That's the only place you shared together?"

Dan nodded.

"I think I may have something Michael. A one bedroom house was leased to a Dan Chapman three weeks ago."

"What?" Dan watched as a copy of the lease papers appeared on the monitor. "That's my signature!"

"Or a very good forgery." Michael said.

"The transaction was executed electronically." K.I.T.T. added.

"That was one smart lady." Michael took the next off ramp and accelerated down a deserted two- lane highway.

"I never would have guessed.."

"Yes you would. Given a little more time. We just hurried the process along a little. Now," he grinned, "it's time you met the rest of the team."

"More talking cars?"

"Never!" K.I.T.T. said with alarm. "I am one of a kind!"

Michael sighed deeply. "Thank God."

Dan leaned back into the comfortable bucket seat, as the Trans Am pulled closer to a large black semi barreling down the highway in front of them. He glanced at the speedometer. They were climbing past sixty-five miles an hour.

He watched in fascination, then alarm, as the back doors of the semi automatically opened and a ramp was lowered to the roadway. The Trans Am picked up speed.

He looked toward Michael. The driver sat comfortably in his seat, his hands barely touching the steering wheel.

He felt a surge of speed and the front tires kissed the ramp. Another surge of power and the back tires bit the ramp and the car's momentum suddenly slowed and they easily pulled into the truck's trailer.

He climbed out of the car, speechless. Every inch of wall space inside the trailer was filled with either electronic equipment or gear for the car. A computer station and desk sat in one corner and a small couch sat in the opposite corner. Every inch of space was accounted for.

A half door leading to the trucks cab opened and a young dark haired woman stepped out. Dan assumed she was in her late twenties to early thirties. He white overalls did nothing to hide her tall slender body.

"And this," Michael said with a mischievous grin as he headed for the coffee machine next to the computer, "is Bonnie Bartsow, K.I.T.T.'s mother."

"I am not K.I.T.T.'s mother," Bonnie countered with a hint of annoyance, "but I do spend an inordinate amount of time repairing K.I.T.T. after Michael has subjected him to who knows what out in the field."

"Bonnie, there are instances where Michael has no other options."

"I'm sure there are K.I.T.T." Bonnie sighed. K.I.T.T. was always protective of Michael. She sometimes felt jealous of their relationship. "Welcome to FLAG's mobile unit." She said turning her attention toward Dan. "Everything we need to keep K.I.T.T. operating in the field is here. The more serious repairs." she glanced back at Michael innocently sipping his coffee, "are done at FLAG Headquarters' garage."

"This is unbelievable. I mean, I heard about your organization through the grapevine, that's why I came to you, but I had no idea how extensive your operation was."

"We get around." Michael lifted his cup, "Coffee?"

"No thanks, my adrenalin is… " Suddenly the semi swerved to the right causing everyone to nearly lose their balance.

"Damn it, I thought I had compensated enough."

Dan looked at her lost. "The truck still over steers going into turns. It's just a matter of a little more tweaking."

"You mean no one is driving this thing?"

"Not really. A computer is navigating. It's all perfectly safe. I promise."

Dan said a silent prayer, wishing her were anyplace but here."

"Got anything on our friend Carter?" Michael asked as he settled on to the comfortable couch.

"Nothing you're going to like Michael. Since your last encounter he's amassed a sizable amount of stocks in several questionable companies. The F.B.I. and the Federal Trade Commission have had their eyes on him for months. Something's brewing. We just don't know what yet."

"If you dig deep enough I bet every one of those companies have some kind of connection to De Martiz." Dan added.

"You're right. But so far its just speculation. The Feds are waiting for iron -clad proof. They don't want to blow this one."

"Neither do we." Michael said.

Bonnie smiled wryly, "Take a look at this then." Leading the two men over to her computer station. "This," she said as a signed document come up on the screen, "is the lease agreement supposedly signed by Mr. Chapman."

"Dan, please. That does look a lot like my signature."

"That's because it is." She typed a command into the computer and Chapman's driver's license appeared and merged with the lease agreement until there was only one signature.

"Your friend was very clever. I tried to trace the original lease agreement back to its origins but I lost track of it somewhere in the Netherlands. There is no way of knowing exactly where it came from or whom."

Dan stared at the lease on the monitor. Lisa had gone to great lengths to get him that letter. He only hoped it was worth it.

"There is one other thing interesting about this lease. It assigns janitorial services to someone named Silanda."

"It doesn't ring a bell."

"I'm not surprised. It's an anagram."

"For what?" Michael studied the letters, shaking his head.

"Dan and Lisa. Which means that whoever this Silanda is has the only key to the house and may already have the letter."

"Or simply hid it until Dan could pick it up. You got an address to go with that lease?"

"1172 Vine View Lane."

"OK." Michel checked his watch. "I'll take you back to your office. You do what you need to do to get ready for tonight. I'll pick you up at 2:15. I want to make sure everyone's sound asleep before we go breaking and entering, even if it is your own place."

The small two bedroom house sat back from the sidewalk. A once well manicured lawn and flower garden had long given way to weeds and bramble bushes. Six cement steps led to the small porch and the dilapidated front door. The only light came from a street light one house away.

Michael tried the door. It was locked.

"K.I.T.T., do your magic Pal." He whispered into his comlink.

He heard the door lock click over and grinned.

"Nice touch." Dan admitted with a touch of envy. "You think K.I.T.T. would care to moonlight?"

The front room was small and dark, overstuffed with bulky furniture. Michael could see the faintest of light coming through the window of the adjoining kitchen. They had a way in and a way out.

He carefully made his way over to the desk sitting in the far corner. His pencil flashlight gave him just enough light to see the open envelope on the desk. Carefully he searched for the letter. It was gone. Shit! Someone had gotten there first. The stakes were getting too high.

He heard Dan behind him rummaging through the file cabinet. "Anything?" he hissed.

"It's been cleaned out. Nothing but junk. Wait!" Dan felt something taped to the ceiling of the top drawer. "I've got it."

"We better get out of here before we have company. I have a feeling we're not the only ones looking for that letter."

"Michael!" K.I.T.T.'s voice sounded worried. "Get out of there! There are three men at both the front and back doors."

"Where the hell did they come from?"

"I'm sorry Michael. They were hiding in two vans. They must be lead lined, I didn't detect them."

"It's alright Pal." He turned to Dan, "This may get ugly."

He saw Dan's grin in the faint light. "Just the way I like it."

"They are heavily armed Michael." K.I.T.T. warned.

Suddenly the front and back doors both exploded inward simultaneously. Black shapes poured into the house, guns glinting off their high-beamed flashlights as they criss-crossed through the darkness. Dan dropped to the ground drawing his own gun. For once Michael wished he carried one too. He dove for cover behind the desk. He was not a coward but an unarmed man against six armed ones was not exactly even odds.

Dan scrambled behind the file cabinet. "I'll cover you." He hissed. "Can you make it?"

Michael judged the distance. It was at least thirty feet. It would be dicey, but he wasn't any better off unarmed where he was. "On the count of three?" he whispered.

He raised his comlink to his mouth and whispered. "We're coming out K.I.T.T. We'll need some kind of diversion."

"I'll be ready Michael."

A beam of light caught his left leg and shots rang out. Michael hugged the wall. A barrage of gunfire came from Dan's position. Dan was a man of his word. Michael made a beeline for the back door. Flashlight beams caught him as he lunged for cover behind an overstuffed couch. He didn't' make it. Pain exploded in his right shoulder radiating down his entire right side. He collapsed like a rag doll on the carpeting. "I'm hit!" he screamed at Dan. The pain was so intense he could barely breath.

Dan's clip ran out. He quickly rammed a new one in and started firing again. He could see Michael sprawled on the floor near the back door.

"Get out of here!" he heard Michael shout.

"Not without you!"

Dan quickly assessed the situation. Michael lay twenty yards from him, in the open. Shadows darted in and out of the feeble light.

A blaze of gunfire erupted cutting him off from his wounded partner. He couldn't reach him.

"Get that letter to Devon." Michael yelled weakly. "K.I.T.T. will get you there."

"No!"

"Damn it! It's not up for discussion." Michael could feel himself slipping away from shock and blood loss. Devon had to have that letter. It meant everything. "Now!"

Dan took a deep breath and scrambled for the front door. Michael was right. If they were both captured the letter would be lost forever. Five of their attackers were milling around Michael. Only one was left to guard the door. With a boost of adrenalin he ran head long into the guards stomach sending them both somersaulting down the cement stairs. He hit the last step dazed but unhurt. He reached over and jammed his fist into the attackers solar plexus. The man lay there gasping for a breath. K.I.T.T. was suddenly at his side, passenger door open. He scrambled in.

"Michael?" K.I.T.T. asked.

"I'm sorry K.I.T.T, I couldn't get him out."

Two of the guards roughly lifted Michael to his feet. He was barely consciousness. They dragged him toward the back door. Someone ripped his watch off. They knew about the comlink he thought absently. He couldn't think anymore. He only knew that his shoulder was a mass of pain and his head was about to explode.

K.I.T.T. gunned the engine as he saw Michael being dragged toward one of the black vans.

"No." Dan warned. "We have to get this letter to Devon." He held the piece of paper between his fingers and cursed it. Was it really worth a man's life?

"We have to help him." K.I.T.T cried.

"We will. I promise." Dan watched them load Michael into the van. He could tell by they way they handled Michael that he had already lost consciousness. He didn't know how bad the wound was, but as strong as Michael was, it must have been sufficient to render him unconscious. He wondered if he would ever forget this moment. Or would it be etched in his mind forever. The day he had let a friend die so he could live. Just to deliver a damn letter.

He couldn't do it this way.

"Listen to me K.I.T.T." He said slipping out the passenger door. "Follow him. Don't let that van out of your site. Call Devon. Tell him where I am. Have someone pick me up."

As the car door closed and K.I.T.T. slowly pulled away from the curb Dan heard him say. "Thank you."

K.I.T.T. kept a reasonable distance between himself and the van. He couldn't scan the interior, it was lined with lead so he couldn't know what Michael's condition was. He followed them seventeen miles to an old abandoned cannery. In its' day it was a beehive of activity. Now it was just a line of neglected buildings that housed the homeless and the destitute. Drug addicts, alcoholics, the pestilence of society that found refuge from the cold and wet nights here. The police gave the area a wide berth; as long as the homeless stayed there they were off the main streets and out of their hair. So nothing that went on there was privy to prying eyes. Not even the black van that pulled up to a semi collapsed building. No one saw the four black clad men drag another man out of the back of the van and carry him into the building. No one except K.I.T.T.

With out the comlink K.I.T.T. could not scan Michael's vitals but he knew Michael was badly hurt. His instinct was to race into the building demolishing everything in his wake and rescue Michael. But that wasn't possible. Not yet.

He put an urgent call through to the Foundation.

"Yes K.I.T.T." Devon's worried face appeared on the left video monitor.

"They took Michael to the Altos Cannery near the docks." He reported.

"That's been abandoned for years." He heard Dan say in the background.

"How is he K.IT.T?" Bonnie's face appeared on the screen behind Devon's. The remnants of tears still streaked her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Bonnie. I don't know. They tossed his comlink."

Devon reared back form the screen, stunned. "Who are these people? They knew to line the vans with lead so you couldn't scan them and now they know about the comlink?"

"Devon if they are that sophisticated they must have known that K.I.T.T. would follow them." Bonnie said.

"Get out of there K.I.T.T. Now!" Devon ordered. "It's a trap."

"I can't leave Michael."

"You have to. Come back home. We will regroup."

"Devon's right K.I.T.T." Bonnie said urgently. " It's got to be a trap. If you get.."

Dan's face appeared in front of Bonnie's. "Listen to them K.I.T.T. They're right. Think about it. It was all too easy. It was a set-up from the very beginning. You can't help Michael if you're a prisoner yourself."

Floodlights suddenly switched on bathing K.I.T.T. in light as bright as daylight. They were right. It was a trap. He slammed the transmission into reverse and did a one eighty toward the road. Four black vans converged on him from four sides. He was trapped. Dan was right. He couldn't be trapped. He couldn't help Michael if he were a prisoner himself. He braked to a stop, waiting. They rolled closer. And he still waited. One van stopped and four men piled out, all wearing black jumpsuits. He let them approach. One man grabbed the door handle and K.I.T.T. dropped into gear. He floored the accelerator and headed for a parked van. At the last second he hit Turbo Boost. The Trans Am sailed over the top of the van and gently hit the ground on the other side. They stood mouths hanging open as the back car sped into the darkness.

Dan Chapman read the three words hand scrawled on the rumpled piece of paper. Was this really worth a man's life? He handed the note to Devon. "I hope it was worth it." He said sadly

Devon nodded. If the information was accurate it would bring down an entire cartel. Drugs, prostitution, gambling. One arm of an insidious monster would be destroyed. Many lives would be saved. But at what cost? To Devon Miles, Michael Knight was more than just a friend, he was like a son, and he loved him like one. But he was also an agent and therefore he always knew that the time could come when his life was expendable. Devon knew the rules, Michael knew the rules, everyone who stood in the Foundation's garage knew the rules. It didn't make the situation any easer, but it did justify it.

Except for K.I.T.T. For him there was no justification. He had left his partner in danger. Not once but twice. Michael was injured and he couldn't help him. He had watched them carry Michael's lifeless body into the cannery. And he couldn't do a thing.

"Damn it! We were set up!" Dan raged, finding the first thing light enough to throw and hurling a crescent wrench across the garage. It hit the far wall and dropped to the floor with a loud clang.

"How do they know so much about K.I.T.T.'s capabilities?" Devon asked, running a hand through his silver white hair, the strain showing on his face.

"You've got a leak." Dan said coldly, raising his eyes to meet Devon's.

Devon nodded. It was true.

"Carter is good." Dan said. "He has more people on his payroll than dogs have fleas. They're everywhere. It could be a new hire. It could be someone you've trusted for years."

"They must have hacked into the mainframe." Bonnie took her station at the computer console. "If they're here I'll find them."

"What about Michael?" K.I.T.T. asked.

'K.I.T.T., we'll find him." Bonnie promised looking back over her shoulder at the car. This must be extremely difficult for KI.T.T. He had gone against his most basic programming and left Michael in danger.

"I'll start an immediate internal investigation. I'll find our spy." Devon vowed.

"So how do we get Michael out?" Bonnie demanded.

A wry smile crossed Dan's lips. "We do it the old fashioned way. We raid the place." Dan turned to K.I.T.T, "You willing to take on a new partner 'till we get your old one back?"

"It would be an honor." K.I.T.T. said.

"Very well," Devon began to slip the letter into his breast pocket, "I'll get this to the F.B.I. as soon as possible."

"No," Dan looked at the note, "hold off for a while."

"For heavens sakes why?"

"Because, you said it yourself, it was a setup, a trap. What if the information on that note is the same? You give it to the F.B.I. and they mount an assault. It could be a massacre. Hold off, just until I'm certain it's legit."

"Wait a minute.." Bonnie turned toward Dan, anger rising, "you mean Michael is being held captive out there somewhere because of a phony letter?"

"It's a possibility."

"No. Michael put his life on the line for you and now you say it was all for a phony letter?"

"Enough Bonnie." Devon warned. "We are all worried about Michael. Accusations will not bring him back."

Bonnie took a deep breath. "I know," she whispered. "I just want him back safely."

"We all do. All right, you have your time." Devon agreed. "But if you are wrong.."

Dan nodded. He knew more than anyone the consequences if he were wrong. But he also learned a long time ago to trust his gut instinct. And his gut was not happy.

Justin Curtis sat at his expensive desk and surveyed all that was his. He had surrounded himself with only the best. Expensive furniture. Rare art. Everything that attested to is meteoric rise.

In deed, it had been fast. Three years ago his world had toppled around him, thanks to a tenacious private cop and his computerized car. Michael Knight had single handedly destroyed everything he had worked years to build.

But now he was back and Knight would pay. Dearly.

Three years ago he was unprepared for Knight. This time he was. Money could buy almost anything, including the inner workings of FLAG. Everything he learned he set aside in a file for a later day, when once again he met Knight.

When he learned that Dan Chapman had approached Knight for help he knew his prayers had been answered.

It didn't take him long to make the necessary preparations. The car could not scan through lead and that was the key.

Knight was his now. It would only be a matter of time before he had the car too.

In those three years Diego De Martiz had entered the equation. He had the money, the power and the connections to get Curtis a firm foot- hold in the business again. It also gave him credibility.

He sat back and thought about the future. He would own this part of the world, there was no doubt about that. And perhaps, if he played his cards right De Martiz would be calling him Sir, instead of the other way around. He deserved it. He had worked hard for everything he had. And if not for Knight interfering it would be De Martiz looking for his help. A knock at the door brought him back to reality.

Andrew Woodburn entered the office followed by six of his men, all dressed in black coveralls. Woodburn stood at attention and saluted.

"What happened?" Carter snapped.

"I don't know Sir. The plan went without a hitch. We got Knight and we had the car surrounded, but.."

Carter waited, silently.

"I know this is hard to believe," Woodburn was starting to sweat, "but the damn thing just flew over our van. I've never seen anything like it."

Carter nodded. He had spent good money to hire only the best. Twenty-five highly recognized mercenaries from around the world. Woodburn had been with him for two years. Young and hungry, he had worked his way to the top through any means necessary. And he would do anything to stay there. Losing the car made him vulnerable to the other up and comers who wanted his position. "We have Knight. The car won't be far behind. But remember I won't be so understanding the next time." He warned. "I want that car. Understood?"

"Yes Sir!" Woodburn snapped. "We won't lose it again."

Carter settled back in his chair. "How's Knight?"

"Fletcher is with him now. He lost a lot of blood."

"Keep him alive. For now. I want the car and driver to go down together. Dismissed."

Woodburn and his men saluted in unison and turned for the door.

He decided he would check in on Knight later, after Fletcher had him cleaned up. It would be an interesting reunion.

The next two days were spent planning the attack. It had to be done right the first time. There would not be any second chances. Dan and K.I.T.T. took two trips out to the cannery getting as close as possible without being detected. K.I.T.T. scanned the buildings, the roads leading in and out of the area and the derelict train depot half a mile away.

Bonnie and Dan huddled around the computer watching K.I.T.T. build a schematic of the entire cannery from scans he had made. Slowly a three -dimensional map formed showing them every level of the buildings. The center two building seemed to have the most activity. K.I.T.T. had picked up heat traces from bodies as they moved around the plant. One small room stood out from all the others. K.I.T.T. had detected a steel door with a sophisticated locking system. "That," Dan said, tapping the map with his finger "is where they are holding Michael."

"I agree Dan."

"How are you ever going to reach him there?" Bonnie stared at the schematic. The room was in the center of the two main buildings. The only way to reach it was down a long narrow hallway. Easily guarded.

"One man in. Two men out. No fuss, no noise."

"You seem awfully confident." Bonnie was never that confidante about anything.

"It's the only way to stay alive in this business." He grinned. "Tonight we rock and roll."

Michael regained consciousness slowly. First there was a cocoon of warmth in the blackness. All encompassing. Protecting him. Keeping him safe. He wanted to stay there. He couldn't remember what had happened but he knew that pain awaited him on the other side. It always did.

He reluctantly pried his eyes open, blinking until they were semi focused. He felt like shit. He found himself laying on an army issue cot, his right shoulder heavily bandaged and his arm tapped to his side, immobilized. His left wrist was handcuffed to the bed frame. He could tell by the fuzzy feeling in his brain and the lack of real pain that he had been heavily drugged. He lifted his left arm as high as the cuff would allow and squeezed his eyes shut in disgust. His comlink was gone. Whoever they were, they were thorough. They knew things they should not have known: The comlink, K.I.T.T.'s inability to scan through lead.

He remembered the attack vaguely. Details would come as his mind cleared. He did remember, with a cold feeling of satisfaction, that Dan had made it out. The letter would be safely in Devon's hands by now.

He looked around the room. From his limited view he could see that the room was small, more like a cell with white walls and concrete floors. A sink and toilet sat in the left corner. The only door he could see was metal and had no doorknob. A keypad and, what he thought to be an optic sensor, was mounted into the wall next to the door. Getting out would be tough even if he were not injured.

He heard the electronic hum of the lock and the door sprang open. A woman dressed in black fatigues and a black baseball cap walked in followed by an armed guard.

She didn't say a word. She poured water from the sink into a basin and laid it on a tray table next to the cot. She changed his blood soaked bandage with a fresh one and wiped his fevered face with a cool cloth.

"How long have I been here?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper. "An hour? Two hours?"

Sandra Fletcher looked down at him with contempt. When she had hired on with Carter it was not to play nursemaid. She felt it was sexist. There were others who had just as much medical training as she had. Why weren't they here instead? She knew why, of course, they were men and she was the only woman. Someday she would prove her worth to Carter, if he gave her the chance. Meanwhile, she had to keep Knight alive for now.

"Forty-three hours." She said with the smallest of smirks playing at her lips.

That surprised him. That was nearly two days. K.I.T.T. would be frantic by now. He remembered his missing comlink and wondered how his partner would ever find him.

It looked more and more like the whole thing was a set-up. The next question was, was Dan Chapman part of the set-up? He found it hard to believe, but he had been fooled before.

Suddenly, the first stab of real pain hit his shoulder and he gasped. There was something really wrong here. He had felt bullet wounds before, but this was different.

"I couldn't get the bullet out," she said, preparing a syringe, "It's lodged in the bone."

"No more drugs." He clenched his teeth against the pain. "Please." He had to stay alert. His only hope for survival was a clear head.

She ignored him injecting the pain medication into his left bicep.

The effect was instant. He felt himself falling into a black void. Faintly he heard the hum of the lock engage and someone step in. He heard mumbled voices. Someone leaned over him, his face near to his. "Is he going to make it?"

He never heard the answer.

Dan sat at the top of the knoll and watched the cannery below. It was three fifteen A.M. and the moon had long ago disappeared from the sky.

He hunkered down behind K.I.T.T., waiting. There were four guards posted in front of the old building. One at the entrance, and two on either side. The fifth one stationed on the roof.

He clutched a dart gun in his hand.

"The dart will render the victim unconscious immediately," K.I.T.T. explained, "but the distance is accurate only up to one thousand yards."

"I know." He pulled a black ski mask over his face. That combined with the black jumpsuit would hopefully render him nearly invisible. "How far can you track me once I'm inside?"

"Everywhere, except for the room where we suspect they are holding Michael. It must be lined with lead."

"All right. Let's get this show on the road. I'll signal you when I've found him."

"Be careful. And Dan, please bring Michael back safely."

"I will do my best K.I.T.T."

Dan patted K.I.T.T.'s fender and dropped to the ground crawling on his belly like a snake toward the cannery. It took him well over twenty minutes to reach the ideal distance for the dart gun.

He aimed and fired three times. The three guards grunted and corkscrewed to the ground. Dan spotted the guard on the roof and fired. The man did a strange balancing act before toppling off the roof landing at Dan's feet. He quickly dragged him over to meet his friends crumbled in a heap.

"K.I.T.T.?"

"There is one guard stationed on the other side of the door."

"That's it?"

"Yes. The hallway is clear beyond him."

"Thanks." Dan tapped the door lightly with the dart gun and he heard the lock turn.

At close range the dart penetrated the guards stomach and he was dead before he hit the ground. Dan dragged him over to the others and stepped into the building..

The first part of the hallway was fifty feet, lit only by two bare light bulbs in the ceiling protected with wire mesh screens.

The hallway looked empty. Dan hugged the wall until he reached the junction.

A sharp ninety-degree turn led to the three rooms once used for processing. Now one of them held Michael. He raised the comlink, "Is the coast clear?"

"Yes."

Dan smiled, "When this is all over do you think Michael would mind lending you out once in awhile?"

"If that was a thank you, then thank you. But no thank you."

Dan shot a look back down at the watch. Did K.I.T.T. just crack a joke?

The hall remained clear. He found the steel door. A keypad and optical scanner were mounted to the right of the door. "K.T.T.T., we've got a problem."

"I am aware of the systems. I can override the keypad but I will have to disable the optical scanner and that may alert security."

"We have no choice. Do it."

He heard the electrical lock hum then the door snapped open. Alarms immediately began to wail. "Shit! How much time do we have?"

"The guards have been alerted. There are six men approaching your location."

Dan slammed the door open. The room was empty except for the cot where Michael lay. His right side was heavily bandaged, his left wrist cuffed to the bed frame.

"K.I.T.T., can you undo these cuffs."

"Right away. Dan, Michael's vitals are very weak."

"I know K.I.T.T. I'll take good care of him. I promise." Gently he shook Michael awake.

At first Michael thought he was hallucinating. Dan was leaning over him urging to try to stand. Alarms blared everywhere. He felt Dan grab his left arm and pull him up into a sitting position. The pain was agonizing and he nearly blacked out.

"Come on Michael, stay with me. We've got to get you out of here. K.I.T.T. is waiting."

"K.I.T.T.?"

"Yea. We don't have much time."

"Michael?" K.I.T.T.'s voice came from the comlink Dan wore. Michael looked at him, confused.

"Bonnie lent me an extra. Come one, you two can share old times when we're out of here."

Dan lifted Michael to his feet. Michael didn't have the strength to stand and his knees buckled beneath him. "Damn drugs." He muttered.

But Dan knew it was more than just the drugs. Michael's face was deathly white, he had lost too much blood. He needed a hospital immediately.

"Dan, three men have entered the hallway." K.I.T.T warned.

He dragged Michael over to the door carefully peeking into the hallway. It looked empty. "How close are they K.I.T.T.?"

"Right here." A voice came from behind.

Dan turned to his left dragging Michael with him.

"How nice of you to join us Mr. Chapman." Carter grinned smugly as he raised a revolver. "We were expecting you."

Michael moaned softly. He couldn't take anymore. Dan let him slip to the floor. It was a trap.

Guards shoved him back into the room, dragging Michael behind them.

"I hope you didn't injure your friend more in your haste to leave." Carter stood above Michael a triumphant sneer on his face as he shoved Michael's shoulder with his foot making the injured man cry out in pain. "I have plans for him. For both of you actually"

Dan watched two of the guards roughly lift Michael back onto the cot refastening the handcuffs. He saw the widening swatch of blood staining the bandage over his shoulder. Dan's stomach turned. How was he ever going to get him out of here?

"I will send my nurse in shortly. Meanwhile.." Carter snapped his fingers and the same two guards who had lifted Michael onto the cot led him over to the corner and tied his hands behind his back, then secured the rope to a metal ring screwed into the wall. This room had seen it's share of involuntary guests. "Make yourself comfortable." Carter smirked and closed the door. Dan heard the locks click into place.

"What happened?" Michael mumbled.

"We've been had." Dan said bitterly. Carter knew their every move. Damn it, where was he getting all his information?

Dan waited and watched. Time was not on their side. Michael's injury was severe. He needed medical attention. The longer they waited the weaker he would become.

He made a mental note each time Fletcher came in to tend to Michael. She washed his fever hot face, gave him a few sips of ice water and changed his dressing when needed. Her schedule never varied.

And each time Michael refused the pain medication. Dan could see the pain in his eyes, knew the bullet lodged in the bone must have been excruciating. But they both knew if there was a chance for their escape he had to be clear headed.

As he sat in the corner worrying the ropes that bound his hands behind him he tried to keep Michael focused.

"How did you two meet?" He asked. "It isn't every day that man and machine become partners."

Michael smiled ironically, "Sometimes I forget he's a computer. He has more humanity in him than a lot of humans I know."

Dan nodded. He'd only had a glimpse of what their relationship was like. They trusted each other without question. "How did you come to work for FLAG?"

"I died."

"What?"

"I was an undercover cop for the Las Vegas Police Department. We were just finishing up a sting operation that had lasted for months. My cover was blown and… God!"

A sudden spasm of pain ripped through his shoulder.

"Come on Michael, stay with me."

"I .. can't.."

"Yes you can. Your sting operation went bad, what happened next?"

"..Tanya.."

"Who's Tanya?" He listened to Michael, taking long deep breaths, trying to work through the pain. "Who's Tanya?"

"She was the brains behind the whole operation. I misread her. She.."

"She what? Come on Michael, talk to me."

"She shot me, point blank in the face." Michael saw the flash of the gun in his face, as if it were happening all over again. He remembered screaming as the world exploded around him, falling against the hood of the car and sliding down it's polished hide.

"Michael, stay with me." Dan ordered.

He could smell the hot sand in his face, the stench of fresh blood.. His blood.

"Michael!" Dan yelled. "What happened next? Michael, tell me what happened next."

"Wilton Knight.." Michael gasped.

"Wilton Knight? Who's Wilton Knight? Your father?"

"No.."

"Who then? Michael?"

"He created K.I.T.T.." Michael hissed through clenched teeth. He damned Dan for forcing him to talk, to concentrate. He just wanted to let go. Let unconsciousness take away all the pain. But Dan would not let him. He persisted. Question after question.

But Dan was losing him. "Bonnie.. Tell me about Bonnie." He urged. "Are you two.. involved?"

Even through the pain the question made Michael laugh. "You.. interested?" He rasped.

Dan grinned, "A beautiful woman."

Slowly the pain subsided to a manageable degree. But the episode had robbed Michael of even more precious strength.

Dan heard Michael's breathing slow. He was fighting to gain control. "You back with me Michael?" he asked.

No answer.

"Michael?"

"I'm here," Michael breathed. "I'm here."

"Good, because so is Fletcher." He heard the electric hum of the lock and the door snapped open.

Dan watched her. Same routine. He looked out the door and caught a glimpse of a guard standing in the hallway. He looked way too relaxed. A small smile crept across his face. That was their ticket out of there. A complacent guard was always an easy target. He just had to get his hands free first. They had another three house before she returned again.

She walked out and the door's lock hummed into place. "That is one cold piece of work." He said.

Michael had to agree.

"You OK?"

Michael nodded. "Never felt better."

Dan laughed. "You're a damn liar. Look, we've got about three hours before Nurse Nancy returns. If all goes well I think we may be able to fly this coop. How does that sound?"

Dan's mental clock told him they had less than half an hour. He had managed to wriggle his hands free of the ropes and busied himself with unlocking Michael's handcuffs.

Michael felt a bit stronger. The pain, while still there, had eased enough for him to think clearly.

"You didn't tell me the rest of your story." Dan said as he concentrated on the cuffs. He'd 'd taken apart the flushing mechanism of the toilet and broke off a piece of wire just thin enough to work the lock. "Wilton Knight found you in the desert, what next?"

"When I regained consciousness I was in a strange room with bandages covering my face." Michael recalled those first few days, waking up, blinded by the bandages covering his face, his wrists strapped to the bed so he wouldn't disturb the stitches.

He remembered voices reassuring him, telling him everything would be fine. And he remembered one voice in particular. He seemed to be there, all the time, urging him to fight, not to give up. That voice, he came to know, was Wilton Knight. He regretted not having more time to spend with the old man. The heart and soul of FLAG.

"Two weeks later the bandages came off. "

"Reconstructive surgery?"

Michael nodded. "Only thing was, it wasn't my face."

Dan stopped picking at the handcuff lock and stared at Michael, fascinated.

"Wilton Knight thought it would be safer if I had a new face, a new identity."

"Your past was wiped clean?"

"Completely." Michael remembered how angry he was that his life as Michael Long had been stolen from him. How scared and alone he felt. He didn't' know anyone. Not even himself. "Every time I looked in the mirror I saw a strangers face."

"And you accepted that?"

"There was nothing else to do. While I was still unconsciousness Wilton had arranged a burial for Michael Long, closed casket, of course. My family thought I had died out there. What could I do? Tell them "Hi it's me. I know I don't look like me. But it is me?" Besides Wilton had FLAG, and that was my ticket to get back at Tanya Walker. I wanted revenge. I stayed. I became Michael Knight."

"And that's how you met K.I.T.T.?"

Michael nodded. "Wilton Knight had already developed the most advanced computer in the world and housed it in an almost indestructible car. The only thing left was to find a driver."

"You."

"While I was still healing K.I.T.T. was being programmed to match my personality. Only trouble was Devon was the programmer."

Dan chuckled, "That explains the erudite accent."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Erudite?"

"Sorry." He grinned. "My New York Crossword Puzzle word of the day."

"It took time. But before I even knew it I began trusting him. His prime directive was to protect human life, my life. At first he merely followed orders. Nothing more than a highly sophisticated computer with an attitude problem. But somewhere along the line he developed his own personality. He was always hungry for knowledge. He wanted to know everything."

"So, he saw the world through your eyes." Dan said softly. "You were a good teacher Michael."

"It wasn't just me. It was Devon, Bonnie, everyone he came into contact with."

"But you were his parent so to speak."

"Maybe." Michael fell silent for a moment. What was K.I.T.T. doing right now? Going out of his mind with worry and guilt? He smiled inwardly. K.I.T.T's biggest flaw was his greatest asset. His humanity.

"And Devon?"

"When Wilton Knight died he took over the Foundation."

Dan looked into the face of the man he considered a friend. Friendship was a rare commodity in his life. There were very few of them.

"Do you ever regret what happened to you?" He asked seriously.

Michael bit his lower lip. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about what my life would have been like if I was still Michael Long."

"And…?"

Michael looked down at his heavily bandaged arm and smiled, "Despite a few ups and downs, I wouldn't change a thing."

Dan nodded, satisfied with the answer. He went back to concentrating on the cuff.

"And you?" Michael asked.

"Me? My story is simple. I joined the police force right out of high school. A few years later I was recruited into the F.B.I.. I guess I just had one of those faces because before I knew it I was in the Narc Division going undercover. Sometimes I went so deep I didn't know who I was. There." He said with pride as the handcuff fell off Michael's wrist.

"You're good."

Dan ignored the compliment and put the cufflink back on Michael's wrist but didn't lock it. "For good measure." He grinned. "We don't want Fletcher getting curious."

Dan recalled the schematic of the hallway K.I.T.T. had developed. It was sixty yards from their position to the exit door. Two doorways on the right and a small alcove each a potential hiding place for their captors.

Fletcher was do any minute. He sat in his corner, his hands free behind his back and Michael still appeared to be handcuffed to the bed. Everything was timing. Their only chance for escape was now. Diego De Martiz would arrive soon and all bets were off. He and Michael would be separated and he doubted that Michael in his present condition could escape on his own.

Fletcher arrived right on time. Michael watched her as she bent over him, changing the dressing, wiping his face with a cool rag again. Every nerve in his body was on fire. He had to remain calm, he could do nothing to tip her off. Everything depended on the next few minutes.

"You still playing hero, or do you want something for the pain?" she asked, the same question she asked every three hours for the past two days.

This time she was surprised to see Michael nod his head.

"It's about time." She drew the syringe out of her pocket.

In an instant it was over. Michael grabbed her wrist with his free hand and Dan was on top of her sealing her mouth shut with his hand, driving the syringe into her own arm. The effect was almost immediate. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she crumbled into his arms. The guard outside had not heard a thing.

Dan dragged her limp body out of sight and headed for the door.

The door remained open. The guard assured that Fletcher had everything under control, leaned against the outside wall and waited. He was surprised to see the syringe roll across the floor toward his feet.

Curious, but not alarmed, he stepped into the room. Dan lunged at him stripping the gun out of his hands and smashing the butt against his head. The guard crumpled on the floor without a sound.

Dan dragged him over to join Fletcher and returned to Michael. "You ready?" he grinned. The adrenalin pumping in him now. At last he was back in control.

Michael nodded and Dan hoisted him up off the cot. He almost screamed from the pain in his shoulder, nearly passing out.

"Come on Michael, stay with me." Dan urged, holding him tight until he could gain control.

Michael nodded, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

"I'm alright." Michel hissed.

Dan half carried, half dragged him to the doorway and peeked out. The first part of the hall was clear. He tried the com-link, hoping that beyond the confines of the room the transmission would reach K.I.T.T.

"Dan." K.I.T.T.'s anxious voice answered. "Do you have Michael?"

Dan lifted his wrist toward Michael. "I'm here Pal." Michael said weakly.

"Michael! It is so good to hear your voice. I was so worried."

"You two can chit chat later. K.I.T.T., is the hallway clear?"

"No. There are two armed guards. One inside the door and one outside. Devon sent word. De Matiz is in route to this location as we speak. You must move quickly."

"What about the authorities?" Dan asked.

"They want De Martiz and Carter together."

"Then I guess we're on our own for now."

Michael smiled and motioned Dan to raise the comlink to him. "How about a little diversion, huh Pal? Just like old times."

"Sounds good to me Michael."

"On Dan's signal then." Michael felt his legs tremble beneath him. "It's his show."

"I understand Michael."

Dan nodded. "You ready?"

Michael took a deep breath and nodded.

Dan hugged the right wall as they inched closer to the first corner. He could feel Michael's strength waning. He carefully peeked around the corner. Just as K.I.T.T. had said, one guard stood at the door. But something didn't feel right. It seemed too easy.

"Dan.." K.I.T.T's voice crackled over the comlink, "inter.." was all Dan heard when the comlink went dead. "Shit! Something's going down."

The front door exploded open as a half dozen men poured into the hallway. Dan opened fired strafing the walls and floor. He let go of Michael and watched him slid down the wall into a heap out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help him now. Pain lanced through his hand as a bullet grazed his wrist and he dropped the gun. It was over. They had almost made it.

Six rifles were aimed at his head. He closed his eyes and waited. The explosion he heard was not from the guns but from the door disintegrating around the sleek black prow of K.I.T.T.'s hood. The car careened down the hallway, it's fenders scraping the walls. Dan whipped his leg out and caught one of the guards already stunned by K.I.T.T.'s entrance. K.I.T.T barreled into two more of them knocking them over like pins in a bowling alley. Another guard caught Dan from behind chocking him with the barrel of the gun. He flayed his arms around trying to reach his attacker but the rifle was jammed against his juggler vein and he was beginning to black out.

Somehow Michael found the strength to climb to his feet and wrap his good arm around Dan's attacker. Caught off guard Dan drove his elbow into the attacker's stomach. All three of them fell against the wall driving Michael's bandaged arm into the wall. He screamed in pain. Blood immediately started soaking through the dressings.

K.I.T.T. screeched to a stop inches from Dan as he grabbed Michael. There was no room to open the doors, but they had to get him out. Dan lifted him onto the hood of the car and yelled, "Get him out of here!!"

K.I.T.T. quickly backed up, Michael sprawled across the top of his hood. Dan grabbed a rifle in his good left hand and ran after him.

Carter and Woodburn stood waiting outside the door. He would not let Knight get away again.

K.I.T.T. cleared the door way and Carter opened fire. K.I.T.T. did a one eighty, the force sending Michael sailing off the hood and out of the line of fire. Dan dove for cover behind an old cart left behind when the Cannery was abandoned.

A black stretch limo barreled toward the cannery.

"It's De Matiz.." K.I.T.T. warned. Dan looked over at Michael, laying motionless in the dirt. They had to get him to a hospital.

"K.I.T.T. Call the authorities." Dan ordered.

"They are on their way. E.T.A. four minutes."

Four minutes Dan breathed. That could be a lifetime.

Carter saw the limo. The timing couldn't have been better. De Martiz would see him wipe Michael Knight and that car of his off the face of the earth. Woodburn appeared behind him, carrying a grenade launcher.

Dan saw the weapon. He knew that K.I.T.T. could withstand a barrage of bullets but

could he survive a grenade attack. And even if he could Michael would not. He would certainly be torn apart by the shrapnel.

Michael heard K.I.T.T.'s voice calling to him. Ordering him to get into the car but he couldn't move. His arm and shoulder were numb. He tried to move his legs, to somehow crawl toward the car but his body wouldn't respond. He was too weak from blood loss and exhaustion. He closed his eyes as K.I.T.T.'s voice disappeared behind the deafening hum in his ears.

The limo pulled to a stop and De Martiz slowly climbed out of the back seat. A faint smile played across his face. He saw Knight laying in the dirt, the front of his shirt covered in blood, dead he hoped. The car Carter had talked about so often in the crosshairs of a grenade launcher.

"I see you have things back under control." He called sarcastically.

"You're just in time for the final act." Carter gloated. It was almost over. He had won. Everything.

Suddenly the cannery turned into a war zone. Bullets flew everywhere. The thunderous noise of a helicopter filled the air. Carter and Woodburn looked into the sky trying to find the 'copter. Dan exploded out from behind the cart smashing his shoulder into Woodburn. The grenade launcher dropped to the ground. Woodburn tried to crawl away from the onslaught of punches but Dan was crazed. Lisa was dead. Probably Michael too, by now. He punched and punched until his knuckles were bloodied. Someone caught him from behind and pulled him off.

"Take care of Michael." Devon Miles ordered.

"Where the hell..?"

"We'll talk about it later."

Dan staggered toward Michael.

De Mariz tried to dive back into his limo but K.I.T.T. surged backwards hitting the door, slamming it shut. De Martiz stared at the car in disbelief.

Carter panicked. He grabbed for the door back into the cannery.

"Not so fast!" Devon ordered.

Carter slowly turned around. F.B.I. agents swarmed the place like ants.

"You're little plan almost worked." Devon said with a note of contempt in his voice. He pulled the letter from his breast pocket. "You almost pulled it off. But alas the best laid plans of mice and men…Your ambush failed."

Carter sagged into the arms of two F.B.I. agents. He had almost pulled it off.

De Martiz winced at the sound of the handcuffs locking in place. He looked toward Carter with contempt. It was all his fault. He would pay. No matter where he went the man would pay. There would be no jail in the world that would be safe from his retribution.

Dan sagged to his knees next to Michael. With shaking hands he felt for a pulse. There was one, faint, but it was there. "He's alive." He screamed toward Devon.

A Life Flight helicopter landed nearby and paramedics pushed Dan aside. He watched as they quickly stabilized Michael for the trip to the hospital with oxygen and I.V.'s.

"Thank you for helping Michael." K.I.T.T. said as they watched the helicopter take to the air carrying its precious cargo.

He gently patted the hood of the car. "He'll be all right K.I.T.T.. He's a fighter."

Devon was suddenly beside him. "Would you like a ride to the hospital?" Devon motioned toward his waiting copter.

"No thanks." Dan said opening K.I.T.T.'s door. "I think I'll head back with K.I.T.T. if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Devon smiled.

It was nearly three days before Michael was able to receive visitors in the hospital. It had been a long surgical procedure to remove the bullet and repair the damage to his shoulder. He was told that Fletcher's decision to wrap his arm tightly against his chest had definitely saved him the use of his arm. It would take time for him to heal. But he was in no particular hurry. He was tired. In more ways than one. He needed a long vacation. Not just a recuperating vacation, but a real one. And he needed time alone to discover who he was again. The talk he had had with Dan about his fist encounters with K.I.T.T. and FLAG made him realize that he really didn't know who he was anymore. He needed to find out. He needed to seek out his past in order to continue into his future.

He hoped Devon would understand…

Dan hoped the nurses wouldn't the sniff out the hamburger he had tucked beneath his coat for Michael who had been complaining vehemently about the hospital food and since the man was going to be cooped up for another week at least he thought it was the least he could do.

"This is great." Michael mumbled around a mouth full of food. "One more bowl of Jello and I'd wiggle to death."

"Just enjoy." Dan grinned. "And this.." he pulled a small box of chocolates from his pocket, "Is from Darlene. It turns out that Carter found out about my little visit to you through old- fashioned pillow talk. Her boyfriend worked for Carter."

"Small world."

"Yes isn't it." Devon said as he walked into the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, now." Michael said swallowing another bite of his hamburger.

"Yes, well, you had better not let the nurses catch you eating that.. that.. poor excuse for food."

"Sorry about that." Dan said in mock despair. "I won't let it happen again. I promise."

Dan looked down at Michael, his shoulder heavily bandaged and his arm secured in a nasty looking cast. His face still pale and drawn. He had almost died out there. But in the mist of all the chaos they had formed a friendship. Something neither one of them took lightly.

"Very well. I guess you two are made from the same mold. Heaven help us all. Which brings me to my next point. Would you be interested in joining FLAG? We could use another good man. When Wilton Knight first proposed his idea for one man, alone, on a crusade to help the innocent, the powerless, he never expected his plan to work so well or that there would be so many people in need. Michael can no longer do it alone. There are times when he needs help. I can see that now." Devon looked down at Michael. The man had flittered with death too many times. He could not go on like this. "I have spoken with K.I.T.T. and he agrees."

"He does?" Michael asked surprised.

"Yes. And Dan, if you would accept we would be very honored."

Dan looked down at Michael. He had almost died out there. But the adventure was great. K.I.T.T. was great. A smile spread across his face. "Would I have to give up my agency?"

"No. Not at all. We would only call you when Michael is .."

"Behind a rock and a hard place?"

"Exactly. Michael? How do you fell about my proposal?"

Michael settled back into the soft comfort of his pillows and closed his eyes. Just what the doctor ordered. He would get that vacation he needed. And Dan was a pretty good guy. K.I.T.T. liked him. "If it means that I get more than three days rest when I get out of here I'm all for it. Welcome aboard Dan."

"Thanks Michael. It's going to be…"

"What is going one here?" A nurse walked in spotting the half eaten burger. "This man is very ill. He is on a restrictive diet… Liquids only. And you feed him this garbage?" She snatched the hamburger and it's wrapper from Michael's hand and dumped it in the trashcan next to the bed. "I have half a mind to report you all to the doctor. And you.." she said to Michael pulling a syringe from her pocket, "are late for your meds."

"Could you wait a little while? They make me drowsy."

"Doesn't matter. Dr.'s orders." She pushed the medication into his I.V. and stomped out. "I'll be back for your sponge bath later." She called as the door closed behind her.

"I don't know who's worse." Michael lamented. "Her or Fletcher.."

Dan grinned. "Nurse Nancy she ain't"

Michael smiled as his eyes closed, the drugs pulling into deep healing sleep.

"Sleep tight my boy." Devon said softly. "Sleep tight."