End Game
Jonny Quest
was silent. He had been that way for
several days now. And Race Bannon was
really starting to worry. They were
currently in a plane at 30,000 feet on a nonstop trip from New York to
Chicago. Both men had shed their
steamer disguises in exchange for business suits and ties. They looked like their regular selves but
were still traveling under assumed names. They had arrived back in New York two days ago and ended up back in
Leeds' covert operations center. The
informant onboard the tramp steamer had finally told Race that Julia's hideout
was based in Chicago. Rumor was that
she was heading back there in an effort to shake off Cain. He knew there was some sort of operation
planned but she had given out no details to this point. Unfortunately, the man didn't know exactly
where in Chicago she was heading. So
they had all disembarked in New York with a promise that the man would call as
soon as he heard from Julia on a meet location. Yeah, right. Race wasn't
holding his breath on that one, even with all the money he had been promised
for the information.
Jonny had
turned silent since their talk on the deck of the tramp steamer five days
before. It was as though he had
withdrawn. Race had been unable to get
more than three words at a time from him since then. And he had tried. It wasn't as though he was sullen or angry. It was more like he had built a wall around himself that he
wouldn't allow to be breached. Race
wished fervently that Jessie were here. He had the feeling that right now she would be the only one who could
get through it.
"Ladies and
gentlemen, we have begun our descent and should be arriving at O'Hare
International Airport in about 34 minutes. Weather conditions are good and we anticipate arrival to be on
schedule. Seatbelt signs will be coming
on shortly so please take your seats. And thank you for flying United Airlines."
"Do we know
where to find her yet?"
Race almost
jumped out of his skin. It had been so
long since Jonny had initiated a conversation that he almost didn't believe
it. Race looked at him. "We know she's on the docks. Leeds' people are working on narrowing the
scope. They'll have a team ready when
we arrive. We should be able to move
very quickly once the final location is pinpointed."
Jonny leaned
his head back against his seat and closed his eyes. "I want this over, Race. I want to go home."
"Then go
home. I can finish it. Jessie needs you anyway. There's no reason you have to be here."
Jonny turned
his head and looked at the older man. In that instant Race thought he looked about a thousand years old. "I can't do that. You know that. I have to
see this out to the end. It will never
be over if I don't. I've thought a lot
about what you said over the last several days. In my head I can understand and accept the logic. But . . . I don't know . . . there always seems
to be some part of me that keep whispering 'You could have stopped if you
really wanted to.' That thought keeps
haunting me."
"You don't
really believe there was any part of you that wanted to do that, do
you?"
"I keep
telling myself there wasn't. But I
don't really know . . . I can't remember. I don't know what was going through my mind then. Maybe I did betray her . . . "
"DON'T DO
THIS! This is exactly what Surd wanted
. . . what he planned for. If you allow
yourself to think this way, then he wins."
Jonny sighed
heavily. "I know."
"You need to
see Jessie."
"Not until
this is over once and for all."
"Jonny . . . "
"Not until
this is finished." And then he was
silent again.
Race stood in
the shadow of a large shipping crate on the docks of the east side of
Chicago. Night had fallen and the
sounds of the wharf seemed strangely subdued. He looked around him with an ominous feeling of déja vu. This was the very same dock where he had his
confrontation with Jeremiah Surd back in 1978. The container ship that rested at dock in front of him seemed identical
to the one they boarded so many years ago. Everything had come full circle. It had taken almost another week to pinpoint this location, but tonight
promised to be the end.
Race gazed off
to his right looking for Jonny. He
never should have agreed to put him with another strike team. He didn't trust him right now. He was too depressed. At the best of times Jonny's tendency to
take chances could be described as crazy. Right now, Race figured he might be inclined to do something really
stupid. And he did not want to have
to go back to Maine and tell his daughter that he had let the young man she
loved more than anything in this world get himself killed. He was nowhere in sight. Shit.
He was just
about to move in that direction when Leeds materialized beside him. "Everyone's in place. We have about 15 minutes before mark."
"Where's
Jonny?"
"He and Jones
have moved to the far end to take point."
"Goddamn it,
Leeds, I don't want him on first strike here. It makes him too much of a target."
"My take on
that kid is that he's not going to sit back and wait once this operation
starts, regardless of where you put him. So you might as well put him at the front and use whatever it is he's
got pent up inside him to good purpose. Not like you to work with a time bomb, Bannon. And that kid certainly is one. You ever gonna tell me what this is all about?"
"No."
"I heard
you're going to be a grandfather." No
response. "That kid the father?"
"Drop it,
Leeds."
"Come on . . .
" Race turned slowly, an ugly
expression on his face. "Okay. Okay. I'll drop it. But you better
watch the kid, Bannon. He's on thin
ice." Leeds moved away and Race laid
his forehead against his hand. Leeds
was right . . . Jonny was on thin ice. This had to finish here. That
was all there was to it.
Five minutes
later the strike team began to move. Members of the team flitted from shadow to shadow moving ever closer to
the ship. In the dim light, Race
thought he saw the silhouette of two men working their way up the anchor chain
at the front of the vessel. Point
men. Jonny was on his way. He had to get on that ship!
Suddenly, an
alarmed voice shouted out from the deck above him and the night was cut by the
sound of automatic weapons fire. They
had been spotted! Stealth abandoned,
the strike team poured out of hiding and ran for the ship. The sound of gunfire was deafening. Race sprinted for the gangplank, covering
his advance with a steady rain of bullets. Sometime during the advance he felt the sharp burning sensation of a
bullet graze the top of one shoulder, but he ignored it. He had to get on board. In all likelihood, Jonny was already there
and that meant trouble. He reached the
top of the accessway and made a head first dive across deck. Bullets exploded in the place he had stood
just an instant before. He rolled
bringing his gun to bear on two men who appeared intent on stopping his
advance. They got no further. Race rolled quickly to his feet and began
moving to the front of the ship. If
this vessel was identical to the original, there would be an accessway to the
levels below just up and to the left. Jonny would be stalking Julia. To find the young man, all Race had to do was find Julia.
Below deck,
Jonny Quest moved cautiously down a corridor toward the cargo area. He figured that if Julia had set this up as
her command post, it would have to include all of the computer equipment and
accesses that allowed them to break into QuestWorld. And that took space. He
had studied the schematics of the various cargo ships in dock while they waited
so he knew that this type of ship had only one place with sufficient space to
assemble all the necessary equipment. And that was in the primary cargo hold. So if she was here, that is where she would be. Sudden, loud voices around the bend of the
corridor ahead warned him of opposition just in time. He ducked into a storage area and allowed them to move past. Jonny could clearly hear the sound of
fighting out on the open desk. The
strike team had gotten on board. And
Race would be with them somewhere. Jonny knew he was going to be pissed about this. He had tried to put him in the second
assault wave. Well, if he was pissed,
so be it. He didn't care. This was his fight . . . much more than it
was anyone else's. He was not going to
be stuck in the back.
He moved
forward again, and looked around the corner of the corridor quickly. It was empty and at the head of it was a
bulkhead door. That would be the
entrance to the cargo hold. He covered
the distance at a fast sprint, but when he reached the door he found it to be
sealed. And it was secured. There had to be another way in! He ran back along the corridor frantically,
starting at the ceiling. There! Air ducts. He should be able to reach the cargo hold through the air ducts. Reaching up, he yanked on the duct grating
several times until it came free in his hands. He grabbed the edge of the duct and jumped, hauling himself up and
squirming inside. Yes! As long as it didn't narrow down much more
he would be fine.
He wriggled
along the duct moving back toward the storage area. Ahead of him he could see a grate. As he came level with it, he saw that it did open into the cargo
hold. And spread out in front of him
were rows and rows of electronic equipment. Monitor screens and processing units were scattered throughout the large
area. There were also planning tables
and an assortment of equipment whose purpose he wouldn't even try to
guess. The grate he was looking through
was on the far end of the room. He
reached out and shook it quietly. Tight. He could probably get it
out but it would make a lot of noise. At the moment he could see no activity in the room, but it was a good
bet there were still people there . . . Julia, if no one else. It would be better if he could get in
unannounced. He continued to move down
the air duct as it ran along the edge of the huge hold. The third grate he came to was bent. When he looked at it closely he saw that it
had been pulled out before. When he
reached out and tested it he found that it moved in it's housing. This was his best bet.
He craned his
head trying to see what was below the grate. He was in luck. There was a stack
of crates that came up to about six feet below the grate. The crates were stacked to about ten
feet. If he could get out undetected he
should be able to put the grate back in place and get to the floor without too
much trouble. Suddenly, he heard voices. They appeared to be coming from somewhere
ahead of him.
"What do you
mean, they've gotten on board??! I told
you to make sure they didn't!"
"There were
too many of them. And they seemed to
come out of nowhere."
"Who are these
people???! I thought sure I'd thrown
off pursuit before I left Europe. And
Cain! What the hell happened
there? Did you ever find the money?"
"Yes. Just this morning. It was transferred to a US bank account in Denver."
"Transferred! Who transferred it?"
"According to
the transaction records, you did."
Abruptly,
Julia came into view. She looked angry
and flustered. "What do you mean, 'I
did?' Why would I
transfer funds . . . all of my funds . . . from a safe account in Zurich to a
US bank in Denver?!"
"Well, it's
not like someone could break in and do it. Not to the Swiss banking system."
Julia stared
at him in silence for a long moment. Then she began to swear in a furious tone. "It's that damned Quest kid. He could have done it . . . he could have gotten in. And that explains why Cain's stalking
me. He never got the money for the
hit. They diverted it somehow. I swear, I'm gonna kill that kid. I owe him and his family anyway . . . for
Lorenzo . . . " The two people moved
away again their voices receding into the distance.
Jonny smiled
coldly and thought, Well, Julia, it took you long enough . . . Reaching out he gave the grate a sharp push
and it popped loose. Jonny smiled again and glanced at his watch. Leeds would be starting the demolition process
soon. He didn't have long now. They were planning to sink this ship . . .
and he wanted this over before it went down. He slid out of the duct and, reaching up, popped the grate back in
place. Then he dropped to the floor and
crouched behind some equipment listening carefully to see if he could tell
where his quarry was. Nothing. He began moving cautiously trying to follow
in the general direction Julia had gone.
Suddenly,
seemingly almost within touching distance, Julia's voice came again. "Get topside and see what's going on. All of the monitors are out. And take Kaiser with you." As Jonny peered over the computer console he
was crouched behind, he saw two men turn and move toward the bulkhead door he
had tried earlier. Julia stood with her
back to him, staring after the two men. Softly, Jonny reached inside his jacket and pulled out a machine
pistol. Race would be really pissed if
he knew he had this, too. Leeds had
given it to him along with the shoulder holster when he told him he could run
point. Jonny knew full well that Race
knew nothing about it. He never would
have allowed it. But that was okay,
because Jonny had never intended to sit back and wait anyway. It was just as well Leeds was willing to let
him go first.
Jonny rose silently
and, putting the computer console at his back for protection, trained the
pistol on the woman in front of him. He
grinned and said softly, "Hello, Julia. It's been too long . . ."
Race ran
quickly down the ship passage below deck. Time was running out. He had
seen no sign of Jonny, and Leeds was beginning to set the explosive
charges. He had to find that boy and
get out of here. He had managed to
locate Jones in all of the topside melee, and he had confirmed exactly what
Race had feared. Jonny had an
agenda. As soon as he got on board, he
disappeared and Jones hadn't seen him since. That could only mean he'd gone after Julia. Leeds warned him that they couldn't vary the timetable on the
operation. Bannon found the kid and
brought him out within the timetable or he went down with the ship. It was that simple.
He needed to
go one more level down to access the cargo hold. He suspected that's where he would find both people he was
searching for. He sprinted down the
corridor. Just as he was about to round
the last corner that would lead him to the entrance to the cargo hold, he was
confronted by two men. Both were armed
and immediately trained machine pistols on him. But neither was given the chance to fire. He hit them at full speed. One caromed off the corridor wall and
slumped to the floor, unconscious. The
other went sliding up the corridor on the floor. Bullets sprayed in every direction. Race dove for the floor and landed on his assailant. One punch and the man was out. Race staggered to his feet and continued on
to the bulkhead door to the hold. Before him he could see equipment everywhere. The sounds of fighting, while still audible, were muted and he
could hear the hum of machinery from all around him. He moved forward cautiously, looking for the two people he knew
had to be here.
"Hello,
Julia. It's been too long . . ."
Race
froze. Where had that voice come
from? Somewhere ahead of him. He moved forward again quickly, his fear
growing. If Jonny had found Julia in
this maze, the explosives that Leeds was setting had just become the least of
his worries. Suddenly, he stopped,
transfixed. He couldn't seem to move. As he stood there staring at the tableau in
front of him, he knew it was almost over. One way or the other, it would end here.
Julia was
standing in an open area surrounded by computer equipment. Jonny stood about ten feet away, his back to
an equipment console. He held a machine
pistol in one hand and there was a nasty smile on his face. "I've been looking forward to this. Have you found your money yet?"
The rage on
Julia's face was clear. "You little
bastard. Do you know how much trouble
you caused me?"
"Oh, yeah, I
know . . . better than you do. How long
do you think you can outrun Cain? Not
that it matters. You're going to be
dead soon, anyway. One way or the
other."
"And who's
going to kill me, boy? You? You don't have the guts!"
"Don't think
so? Who do think killed Lorenzo? Let me give you a hint . . . it wasn't Race
or my Dad." The disbelief on Julia's
face was clear. But slowly her
expression shifted as the change in Jonny Quest registered with her. This was not the naive, good-natured boy
that had always foiled her plans in the past. This was a bitter, angry young man that was obviously extremely
dangerous. Jonny watched her expression
change from angry and arrogant to cautious and fearful. If anything, his smile became more bitter. "What? Don't you like what you helped to create? You bitch, do you even begin to understand what you did? Surd was a lunatic . . . a sicko. But you . . . you're even worse than he
was. He was just crazy . . . but you
aren't. You just do it because you enjoy
it." Jonny voice was shaking and his
fury was clear.
Julia started
to smile slowly. It wasn't a pleasant
smile. "What? Didn't you like the experience? I've always heard that deep down every man wants to know what it's like
to get it that way. Oh, but I forget,
you don't remember it do you? What a
shame . . . it would probably be enlightening." Race could see the two of them clearly now. Jonny was white and shaking, the gun
wavering in his grasp as Julia continued to taunt him. "She screamed, you know. Cried out to you to stop. She kept crying out your name, begging you
to stop. Jeremiah had tapes. You couldn't see anything, more's the pity .
. . there are no surveillance cameras in your bedrooms. But you could hear her over the audio
feeds." Julia laughed. "I enjoyed it!"
"STOP
IT!!!!!!" he
screamed. Julia had been slowly inching
her way backwards, as though trying to get away from him. Abruptly, a loud explosion rocked the ship,
sending shockwaves through the hull. Jonny staggered, desperately trying to keep his feet. It was the break Julia needed. She leaped backward toward the equipment
console immediately behind her. Grabbing onto the edge with a frantic hand, she brought one fist down on
a green button near the upper left of the panel. A loud, piercing tone cut through the room.
Laughing, she
screamed at him, "Here, I have a present for you . . . "
Jonny Quest's
scream was almost as piercing as the tone that shrieked through the room. He dropped the gun and fell to his knees,
grasping his head in both hands. The
rage that filled Race Bannon in that instant freed him from his trance and he
started to surge forward. He would kill
her with his bare hands! But before he
could do anything another explosion rocked the ship and he could feel the deck
begin to cant under his feet. The boat
was starting to sink. Julia continued
to laugh maniacally as she dove for the gun that Jonny had held just moments
before. She scooped it up and whirled
to turn it on the agonized young man. Race brought his gun to bear and across the open space, their eyes
met. But before either could fire the
sound of another gun reverberated through the room. For an instant, nothing moved. Then Julia's eyes widened slightly and she pitched forward face down on
the deck. There was a hole the size of
a baseball in the middle of her back. Dazed,
Race looked across the room and Cain stared back at him out of cold,
expressionless hazel eyes.
They stared at
each other for a long moment. And then,
over the noise of the sinking ship, Cain yelled, "Get the boy out of here . . .
now!" He strode over to Jonny,
forced him to his feet, and dragged him over to where Race was standing. He thrust the boy into Race's arms. The confusion on Race's face must have been
evident, because the assassin continued, "It didn't take me long to realize I
wasn't the only one chasing her. And
when I did I began to suspect I'd been set up. My first inclination was to go after you and the boy." He looked down at the dead woman with
loathing and then back up at the older man. "But you were both so fixated. I
decided I wanted to know why. And so I
did some digging . . . and got some very nasty answers. I've done a lot of things in my life,
Bannon. And I'll do even more if the
money's right. But there are some
things I will NEVER do. And what
she did is one of them. Now get out
while you still can!"
Race asked no
more questions. Shoving Jonny ahead of
him, he made for the upper decks.
The piercing
tone seemed to cut through a fog in Jonny's mind. And in it's wake sounds erupted into his head along with images
so clear he thought his head would explode. They echoed in his mind, surrounding him and making the episode real for
the first. He could see, hear and feel
it all . . . feel her as she fought him, his hands ripping her clothing, his
body pinning her down, her frantic struggles until his physical strength
overwhelmed her . . . and finally her cries of pain and humiliation.
He could feel
his sanity slipping away from him. This
was more than he could take. He had
been right. He couldn't live with this. Better to be dead than have to face her
again . . . He suddenly felt strong, violent hands drag him up from the deck
and thrust him into another set of waiting arms.
And from
somewhere in the distance he heard a voice say, "Get the boy out of here, now!"
No, his mind screamed. Let me alone. I just want to stay here. It can all end here . . .
Hands shoved
him and he staggered forward, coming up hard against a large piece of
equipment. He was grabbed again and
dragged forward. He wanted to struggle
. . . to fight against the insistent hands that were forcing him from this
certain grave. But it was as though his
body had ceased to obey his conscious mind. It went where the hands directed it to go, not where his mind told
it. And still the sound of her voice
echoed in his head. Begging him. Pleading with him. Sobbing. They blended
with the sound of explosions and fire until it all ran together to become
one. It was the end of the world.
Suddenly,
fresh air assaulted his senses. He
struggled to focus his eyes and when he finally did he could see dock lights
and the black of the night sky. And
still the rough hands shoved him, directing him toward the side of the
ship. He staggered into the railing and
clung there, refusing to move any further. "Leave me alone!" He thought he
had said the words out loud, but he wasn't sure. He was jerked around viciously and suddenly he was staring Race
Bannon in the face. He looked furious.
"Off the
ship! Move!"
"No," he
whispered. "No. Leave me here . . . "
Race struck
him hard across the face. "You aren't
staying here, you understand me? You
aren't going to give up and leave my daughter alone with his. You swore to her you wouldn't . . . and I'm
going to see to it that you keep that promise. Now, move!" He shoved him
violently toward the gangplank and reluctantly, Jonny struggled in that
direction. The two men staggered off
the ship and down the dock until they reached a series of cars parked well back
from the sinking ship. Race jerked one
of the car doors open and turned again to Jonny. With calculated precision, he struck the young man, catching him
as he slumped. He thrust him into the
back seat of the car and turned to the agency man who had just run up. "Stay here and keep an eye on him! I don't want him leaving this car. And he is to be alive when I get back. If he's dead, it's your life, you
understand?" The man nodded once. And Race turned and ran back toward the
rapidly sinking ship.
Race Bannon
didn't think he ever remembered a time when he had felt this lousy. His head throbbed, his stomach churned, and
he was absolutely exhausted. For the
third time in two months he sat in the Leeds' covert operations center in New
York. Almost a week had passed since
Surd's ship had sunk along the Chicago docks taking Julia and the last of
Surd's henchmen with it. But if Race
had hoped that the sinking of that ship would put an end to the nightmare, he
was sorely disappointed. They had all
suspected that Surd had rigged a memory trigger in Jonny. And they had all dreaded the day that
something would trip that trigger. Bitterly, Race remembered his comment to Benton about wishing Jonny
could remember the actual event. Well,
now he did . . . and things were worse than they had ever been.
Race had
returned to the sinking ship with the intent of locating Cain. But he was long gone. After searching for an hour, he had given
up. Leeds had pressed him pretty hard
on what had happened in the cargo hold, but all Race would say was that Julia
was dead. In some warped way, he owed
Cain. Julia could have killed one or
the other of them in that cargo hold. And if she had taken him out first she could have killed Jonny at her
leisure . . . the young man would have done nothing to stop her. If anything, he probably would have welcomed
the release. He could never approve of
Cain's lifestyle, but just this once Race could look the other way.
For all
intents and purposes, Jonny had never really come around again. Oh, he was conscious all right. But he responded to nothing and no one. He lay on a bed in the medical section of
the covert operations center, eyes closed and absolutely motionless, locked
away in his own nightmares. And there
were times when he slept. They knew
that because the only thing you ever heard from him were his screams . . .
which ended when he woke. Leeds had
insisted that the two of them return to New York and Race hadn't argued. He couldn't take Jonny home like this. None of them would be able to stand it, particularly
his daughter. They brought him back on
a stretcher . . . he couldn't even be motivated to move any more. Leeds had watched them on the return trip
and when they arrived he silently disappeared. Race had despised the man for a lot of years . . . ever since the
Halfaya Pass episode . . . but for once Leeds surprised him. When he reappeared the next day, he brought
with him a legion of doctors and specialists, including Meyers who was the
agency's top man on brainwashing. Leeds
asked no questions, but shunted Meyers and Race to a secured room where Meyers
grilled him for close to 24 hours on the situation. It was a gamble, but Race held very little back. Jonny wasn't going to get past this on this
own and he needed all the help he could get. Meyers was good. Race knew that
from personal experience . . . he was certain he was sane today because of the
man. If he couldn't help Jonny, no one
could.
And so Race
Bannon waited. He did not call Benton
or his daughter. He didn't want either
of them to even be aware of this situation. If Meyers could work his magic they need never know. And if he couldn't . . . well, he would
confront that situation when it arose.
A soft whisper
of sound caused him to open his eyes. Meyers sat across the table looking at him steadily. Race was almost afraid to ask. "Well?'
"I assume the
man that did this is dead?"
"Yes."
Meyers
nodded. "As it should be. I have never seen anything as sadistic as
what he did. Not only did he brainwash
the boy into doing something so totally foreign to his nature that it almost
broke his mind, he then set up the memory trigger such that it repressed
everything he didn't want him to remember and amplified those he did. He even planted some limited ideas that I'm
sure were designed to drive the boy over the edge. I am not entirely sure how he has survived. By all rights he should be dead or a raving
lunatic."
"Are you
saying . . . "
"That he will
be all right . . . I think . . . eventually . . . with the proper care and support. There is still a great deal to work through,
but we have broken down the mental blocks that were put on him and he now
remembers all aspects of the event, not just the ones he was programmed
to remember. He now knows that what the
woman said to him on the ship was a lie . . . he had no desire to participate
in the act and that he was forced into it. And he knows he fought it with everything he had. That is a start. Your daughter, Mr. Bannon. How does she respond to him? Will she reject him when he returns?"
Race shook his
head. "No. She wants nothing more than to have him back. She has defended him fiercely and protected
him when all the rest of us were ready to crucify him for this entire mess."
Meyers nodded
his head in weariness. "That explains
much. I believe it is her desire for
him . . . her tie to him . . . that has kept him sane. Had she rejected him, I believe he would
have been lost. And I think that in
time he will be whole again. He sleeps
now without drugs or nightmares. He
must rest yet for several days. But at
the end of that time let us see how he is. I think then, perhaps, it is time for you to go home where your daughter
can care for him properly. He has a
great desire to see his children . . . you said nothing to me about him having
children."
"They hadn't
been born when we left. They still
shouldn't be if everything has gone right."
"So they were
conceived from this act?"
"Yes."
"And does he
want them?"
"Yes. They both do."
"Then he needs
to go home. And the sooner the better."