Michael's heart sank at Kitt's words. "Open the roof, Kitt, and then take over the wheel. I have to get up there! Now!"

As Kitt opened the sunroof and took over driving the Trans-Am, Michael climbed out on the hood. He was trying to figure out how to get onto the van safely. Suddenly, the back door to the van opened. Michael found himself face to face with one of the masked thieves, who was clearly as startled as Michael was.

"Here, take the kid," the man said, thrusting Greg at him.

Michael found himself holding Greg as the masked man pulled the van door shut again. Kitt slowed down to let Michael and Greg get into the car seats. And then he sped up to pass the van. Which told Michael that his partner had a lock on the vehicle.

"Greg! Greg! Are you okay? What happened?"

Greg was stunned, then he shook his head as if to clear it. "You cannot tell Mel about this. Promise me."

"Tell me –"

"Promise!"

"I promise. Are you okay? Were you –"

"I'm fine. The one guy wanted to shoot me, but the other guy knocked him out."

You weren't hit?"

"No, sir." Greg shook his head.

Michael gave a sigh of relief. "Tell me exactly what happened, from when they took you to when they –"

"Gave me back? The four masked guys hustled me out to the back, where the white van was parked. They threw me in the back, and two guys got in with me. The other two got up front. Then the two guys in back started arguing. The one guy said they should kill me because I might be able to ID them. The other guy said he hadn't signed up to kill anyone, especially not a kid who was only there because they took him hostage. Then the one guy tried to shoot me anyway, but the other guy knocked the gun away, so the bullet missed me. He then knocked out the guy who tried to shoot me."

"And then?"

"The other three decided to throw me out of the van. So I wouldn't be there when the first guy woke up. They were going to slow down. The guy in back opened the door. And there you were."

"Michael, I am getting a call from Melissa."

"Um. Your car talks?"

"This is Kitt. Yes, he talks, I'll fill you in later. Put her through." Melissa appeared on the monitor. "Yo, Melissa."

"Hello, Michael. I've been making a ton of calls and . . . Greg?"

"Hey, Mel."

"What are you doing with Michael and Kitt?"

"Helping."

"Helping how?"

"Well, for starters, keeping you on task. This isn't a journaling or diary exercise. It's a thesis defense. So: thesis, support, and then methodology if we need it. Thesis statement?"

Melissa paused, then replied, "The thieves work for a cleaning company called Command Cleaning."

"Top three reasons to support that statement?"

"The site for today's event got a stack of flyers for their contractors, including their cleaning company: Command Cleaning. All the sites hit so far use that same cleaning company It's an all-male company that hires military vets, mostly Navy."

"That's what seemed familiar about them," said Michael. "It felt like a military operation."

"Command Cleaning has several offices in the area. I'm sending Kitt the address of the one closest to the venue. Go get them. And Greg, stay inside the car: It's bullet-proof, and you aren't." And with that, she signed off.

"Michael, I have the address. It is a short distance from here. And the van appears to be taking a direct route there."

Michael drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Right, let's assume Melissa is correct and we know where they're going."

"Only if they don't think they're being followed," Greg pointed out.

"True. But Kitt pulled past them after you and I were safely in the car. I can't help but think the driver would have commented about a black Trans-Am shooting past them. So the guy in back likely knows we're not behind them anymore. Kitt, plot us a course to get us to that address about five minutes after they do." And with that, Michael turned them down a side road.

"So . . . your car – I'm sorry, Kitt – does more than just talk?"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Knight Industries 2000, and I am an advanced artificial intelligence that is currently housed in this car."

"Cool. I'm Greg Halloway."

"So I had deduced. Michael, I have our course plotted."

"Thanks, pal. Greg, while we're driving there, care to explain why it's so important Melissa not know what happened?"

"She'd freak." Greg gave a deep sigh. "When she was seven, Garthe told Mel that if she were ever kidnapped, she should behave herself for the kidnappers."

"Sound advice. I used to be a police officer, and that's probably the best advice he could have given her."

"Not really. His explanation was that she needed to behave herself so they probably wouldn't kill her when her parents didn't try to ransom her back. Mel had nightmares for a week."

"I am surprised she only had nightmares for a week," commented Kitt.

"Yeah, well, that's because after a week, the Knights came for a visit. The adults – including Garthe – were in the living room. We kids were all out back. Mel was pretty quiet. Eventually she told us what Garthe had told her."

"What'd you do?"

"We kids assured her that her Dad would get her back. And that our parents would if he didn't. Becky and Amy – she's the youngest; you'll meet her tonight – even both said she could sleep in their rooms."

"And you?"

Greg smirked. "I went inside and punched Garthe."

Michael laughed. "Really?"

"Yup. And 'cause I was only seven, he couldn't hit me back. Dad carried me up to my room and told me I was grounded. I told him what Mel had told us. So I was only grounded until the Knights left. That night, Dad called Mr. Knight and told him what was going on. He took care of it, and Mel stopped having nightmares. Oh, and I got a second dessert at dinner that night. A win all around."

"Michael, I have been tracking the van. It has arrived at the address Melissa provided, and they have stopped."

"Well done, Melissa. Okay, when we get there –"

"I stay right here, safe and sound."

"You and Kitt can get to know each other while I nose around."