Chapter 3: Harsh Feelings

Several hundred miles away in Arizona, four people sat around a circular table in a darkened room. They didn't speak and shifted nervously in their chairs. Behind them a mechanical door with an upside-down triangular symbol slid open and a well built blond man strode into the room. He had a folder under his arm and placed it on the table as he sat down in his seat.

He looked at each person seated around the table. There were two women, a short-haired blonde and a long-haired brunette. There were also two men, one was rather young with brown hair down to just above his shoulders. The other was a muscular black man with a five o'clock shadow. They all wore the same blue jumper suits and they all fidgeted in their seats, waiting for the news their leader brought.

"I've got some bad news, I'm afraid." He spoke with a striking, slightly deep voice. "The first ever prototype CPU for our cars has been stolen." Murmurs swept through the room. "We don't know who did it, or why, but we have a rough estimate of the time, somewhere between now and two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?!" exclaimed the one girl, ruffling her blond hair in frustration. "You mean to tell me that that thing was stolen two weeks ago and we didn't find out till now?!"

"Well, think about it, Erica," said the younger of the men. "You keep an old CPU that went crazy in an old, crapped up warehouse in the middle of nowhere, and it can't just get up and walk away on a couple of wires, you know. We don't need that much security. So apparently, someone learned of the prototype and wanted it pretty badly."

Erica scowled at the man for making her feel dumb, "You think your sooo smart, don't you, Trek?" she said sarcastically. Trek placed a wad of gum in his mouth and began to chew it annoyingly. "Oooh, I want to kill him," she said under her breath.

"Now calm down, you two," said their leader, gazing at the others. "We have to find out who took it. Now, our field of suspects has been narrowed down significantly by answering only a few questions: Who would have knowledge of the prototype?, Who would know the location of the warehouse?, and Who would gain from its possession?"

"Did you take into consideration that this might be an inside job?" asked the brunette.

"Yes, I did, Jenny, and that's why I want you to check all the personnel files for the Foundation. Even our own. I want a list of all the people who would have knowledge and access to that prototype."

"Sure, Kyle. I'll get Dante to help me."

"Great. Duke, I want you and the Attack Beast to stakeout the warehouse. Whoever took the CPU might come back for more."

"Now, come on! You know how I hate stakeouts! Besides, Beast will probably make me listen to Alanis Morissette again! I can't take 24 hours of Alanis!" protested the burly black man.

"Give it a rest, Duke, and take along some ear plugs," replied Kyle.

"Fine. But I'm telling you, I'm going against my will," he said pointing a finger at him.

Kyle looked at the other two who weren't getting along, "The rest of us will just have to sit tight until we have something to go on." He flipped through the folder and saw a memo he wanted to forget was there.

"Oh, yeah, and one more thing. The true father of our cars is also missing."

Trek choked on his gum and gasped, "You mean... him?! The him?!" he rasped.

"Yes. K.I.T.T.: The Knight Industries Two Thousand is missing from an old junk yard in California," Kyle said gravely.

Trek spoke up again, "They kept the most important piece of technology in our world in a junk yard?!"

"It was purely for security reasons," said Kyle. "Who would look for him there?"

"He's right," Erica said, "I wouldn't have looked for him there." Trek coughed and began to gasp. "Oh, please, Trek, give me a break, will you?" Erica sighed, rolling her eyes. She swung her arm and smacked him on the back, causing his gum to fly out of his mouth and onto Kyle's papers. Jenny and Duke snickered at the sight.

"Gee... thanks," Trek said sarcastically, after a few deep breaths.

"No problem," Erica smiled, knowing she had gotten HIM for once.

Kyle flicked the gum at Trek and continued with his speech, "I know you two are gonna hate me for this, but I want you to go to the junk yard in California and do some quiet asking around. See if you can find out where Kitt may have gone."

Jenny swiveled in her chair, "You mean Kitt drove off himself?"

"Um, well..." Kyle cleared his throat and tugged on the front of his jumper, "He couldn't have. We, as in FLAG: The Foundation for Law and Government, stripped off his wheels and set him up on cinder blocks. We also, um, removed all the seats and the extra memory chips from his CPU, disconnected his voice transmission cable, as well as a few of the circuits that controlled some of his more dangerous functions."

"You put that incredible car in a filthy, disgusting junk yard and left him in a totally immobile and vegetative state?!" yelled Trek, who was very fond of the stories he had heard of this innovative machine.

"Well the Foundation didn't need him anymore and they felt that was the most secure place and condition to leave him in," Kyle stated calmly.

Trek stood up and angrily slammed his fist on the table. Everyone looked at him. "I've heard enough. Erica? Let's go find Kitt." Trek spoke with anger growling in his throat and never took his scowling eyes off Kyle. He knew it was not Kyle who did this dastardly deed so many years ago, but he was their leader, and a leader has connections higher up. He could have done something about it.

Erica stood up and obediently walked out the sliding door to the garage where their motorcycles were waiting. Trek turned and just as he was about to leave, Kyle spoke up, "Look, Trek, I didn't know what had happened until I was briefed this morning. If I had known..."

"Yeah, whatever," Trek said without turning. He left the room, and the door whooshed shut behind him.

* * * * *

In the basement of a house several miles from the Foundation, a shrouded figure made slight adjustments to a black box with several wires sticking out of it. The box sat on a table littered with an assortment of wires and computer chips, and while the figure adjusted it with a soldering iron, small sparks of light flew from its interior.

Just then the entire setup began to hum and vibrate slightly. Tiny yellowish lights blinked on and then winked with life. They flickered in such a manner as to suggest they were the heartbeat of a monster that had just been brought back to life.