Firezone

by Debbie Kluge

Story #6 in the Jealousy series. A new enemy with a lust for power makes life difficult for the Quests

10. Chapter 9 Friday, December 24

Chapter 9

Friday, December 24

Quest Compound

"And so there you have it," Race finished wearily. "A great, big, fat zero. No I.D.s, not hint of who they were working for, nothing." The clock on the shelf nearby read 3:10 a.m., as Race leaned back in the big chair in Benton's study and rubbed his forehead. All of his earlier, adrenaline-driven energy had drained away leaving him numb and exhausted.

"Could it have been Leeds?" Benton asked quietly.

Race sighed and waved a hand vaguely. "Who knows? I suppose it could have been, but the attack was so shapeless and unexpected. Leeds can be impulsive, but what did he have to gain by it? He said he was there without his supervisor's knowledge and I believe him. Benton, the man is scared. Seriously so. He was walking a very fine line between telling me what he thought I absolutely had to know and what he could tell me without totally sinking himself. He knew a lot more, but he simply couldn't bring himself to let go of the training and tell me what it was." He thought about it for a moment longer and then continued, "It seems to me that this was more of an unexpected opportunity that someone decided to capitalize on at the last minute. If they'd had more time to plan, they could have rigged one or both hangars to blow up or tampered with the plane or something to guarantee our deaths. Instead, they planted poorly equipped assailants in the hangar to wait for us and take us out when we arrived. They didn't even have night vision equipment . . . they were as blind as we were. It was sloppy."

"So you're certain their intent was to kill you."

"Yeah, of that I'm almost positive. They knew who we were. The leader called me by name. And he knew what color Estella's eyes were, even in the dark."

"How is she?"

"Holding up. She's exhausted, of course, but by the time the cops got to her, she was composed and answered all of their questions calmly." He laughed, but the sound didn't come out sounding particularly humorous. "Estella's a lot tougher than she looks." In sudden anger, he pounded the arm of the chair viciously. "Why NOW? Why the hell did this have to happen NOW!?" But the emotion drained away just as quickly as it flared. "This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives," he said wearily.

Benton smiled gently at his friend. "Don't worry, Race. I'm sure it will be. Go to bed. You look like death warmed over and in about 12 hours you're going to be expected to look your best. You need sleep and I suspect that Estella needs to have you close right now."

Benton watched as Race rose and moved slowly across the room. As he reached the door, he turned and smiled back at the older man. "Thanks, Benton . . . for everything." And then he was gone.

Benton sat silently until he heard the door to Race's living quarters close. It had cost him a great deal to maintain his calm, rational demeanor over the last several hours. Ever since he had received the phone call from the Port Authority at LaGuardia telling him that there had been an incident in the Quest hangars, the rage had been building. For close to three hours, there had been no word other than the fact that there had been heavy gunfire and that there were several people dead. No amount influence he could exert would get him any more than that. And as the hours passed and there was no word from either Race or Estella, he began to fear the worst. He had said nothing to anyone, bearing the pain of waiting alone, seeing no sense in getting the entire house in an uproar until he knew something for certain. Finally, at around 11:00 p.m., Race had called. Both he and Estella had been spirited off to a safehouse by the NYPD while the hangars were searched and declared safe and an initial attempt was made to find their assailants. In the end, it had proved fruitless . . . the men were gone like wisps of smoke in the wind. Race had spent the entire time arguing that he needed to call the Compound, however the bull-headed detective in charge of the case had refused to allow him to do so, saying that if these assassins were targeting them, the Quest phone lines were sure to be tapped. By the time Race had finally managed to call, he was absolutely furious. Benton had held his rage in check, first so he could deal with the shock and emotions that came when he had to tell the rest of the family, and then so he could support Race and Estella when they finally arrived home safely.

But now all of that was past, and Benton was ready to put some of that pent up emotion to practical use. "IRIS," he said tightly, "I want you to get me the home telephone number of Admiral Charles Bennett in Silver Spring, Maryland. I don't care if it's unlisted, I want it. And once you have it, I want you to place a telephone call to him and route it to me here in the study."

"ACKNOWLEDGED," the feminine voice replied. "WORKING." A few moments later, the soft voice said, "THE CALL IS BEING PUT THROUGH NOW."

Very carefully, Benton picked up the receiver on his desk and put it to his ear. He heard a sharp click and then a voice, husky with sleep, said, "Hello?"

Benton took a deep breath and in a quiet, rigidly controlled voice, he said, "Admiral Bennett, this is Benton Quest." He could sense the man's shock even through the phone line.

"Dr. Quest?! What . . ."

"I am not a happy man right now, Admiral. In fact, to say that I am angry would be to understate the situation rather dramatically. Members of my family were viciously attacked without provocation this evening. Now, we both know that you know why this happened. We also know that you've been expecting it for some time, and yet you have made no effort to tell us what's going on so we could protect ourselves."

"Dr. Quest . . ."

"My hold on my temper is very tenuous right now, Admiral. I am extremely stressed and I can assure you that you do not want to push me. At 8:00 a.m., you will be here at this Compound. You will have Isaac Wolenchek with you, and you will come with a full explanation of what is going on . . . "

"Dr. Quest, please . . . you must understand that I . . ."

"If you are not here by 8:00 a.m.," Benton continued relentlessly with the same cold fury, "I will call a press conference, and I will announce to the entire world that you, and the current administration, are covering up a covert operation that includes planned assassinations of me and other members of my family."

"No!" Bennett said frantically. "You can't! You know we wouldn't do that . . ."

"I know nothing of the sort, Admiral." His fury was becoming more and more evident. "What I do know is that I was warned by an operative within your own organization that such a move was being considered and then several hours later, exactly that sort of attack was attempted against members of my family. I promise you that, if pushed, I will provide enough evidence to support this allegation. Any credibility the current administration has will be totally destroyed. Heads will roll, Admiral, yours among them. And I believe you know me well enough to know that I don't make idle threats."

"Please, you have to listen. You don't know what's at stake. . ."

"8:00 a.m., Admiral ," Benton said. "You will come by land and present yourself at the main gate of this facility. Do not attempt to approach it by air. You will be shot down." Benton could hear the man breathing heavily on the other end of the line. "One more thing, Admiral . . . "

"What?"

"Don't . . . be . . . late."

And with that, Benton set the receiver back in the cradle gently and sat back in his chair to wait.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was 4:17 a.m. when Admiral Bennett walked through the door of his Pentagon office to find Commander Barclay and Dr. Wolenchek waiting for him.

Barclay turned to him immediately and said, "Admiral! What's happened? Your call said it was an emergency . . ."

"That's exactly what I want to know. Where's Leeds?"

"He should be here any minute. The duty officer downstairs told me he's in the building already."

"So, what is it, Admiral? What's so urgent?" Wolenchek asked.

"I got a telephone call from Benton Quest about 45 minutes ago. The man was furious! Something about his family being attacked. He's demanding that Isaac and I be at his Maine Compound by 8:00 this morning and he's also demanding explanations."

"Who was attacked?" Wolenchek said in alarm. "Was anyone hurt?"

"I don't know . . ."

"It was Race Bannon," Leeds said, striding into the room. "The head of operations says that he and someone named Velasquez were jumped at the Quest hangars at LaGuardia last night."

"Any other details?" Barclay queried.

"Not really. The little we do know says that Bannon made it out alive, but that there were three others killed in the altercation."

Bennett went white. "One of them wasn't Dr. Velasquez, was it?"

"Who is this Velasquez person?" Wolenchek asked.

Leeds shook his head. "I don't know. There were no identities given for the dead. It's possible that Velasquez was one of them. All we know is that among those involved was a Dr. E. Velasquez, listed as a resident of Colombia. I assumed he was a colleague of Dr. Quest's. The report is very sketchy and the New York cops are not being at all forthcoming."

Bennett sat down unsteadily. "Oh God, if Dr. Velasquez has been killed, we're finished. Quest will never cooperate and Bannon will be out for blood."

"But who is . . ." Wolenchek began, but he was interrupted by Barclay, who said,

"There's a woman listed in Bannon's personnel file . . . an Estella Velasquez. Would that be the one? His ex-wife?"

Bennett nodded his head, swallowing with difficulty. "The woman Bannon was due to remarry almost any day now."

"Oh, shit," Leeds said softly.

Bennett raised a shaking hand and massaged the back of his neck in an effort to ease cramped muscles. "Quest was in a towering rage . . . I've never heard him like that before . . . like it was taking everything he had just to hold himself in check."

"So he asked that you come to Maine to talk with him?" Barclay said, dropping heavily into the chair across the desk.

"No, he didn't ask me . . . he told me. Said I would be there . . . with Isaac, and that we would be forthcoming with a complete explanation of what is going on."

"And if we didn't come?" Wolenchek asked.

"Then he would go public with the entire mess." Bennett looked around the room, his expression turning hard. "He also informed me that he had been told by someone from inside this organization that he was being regarded as a potential security risk. Would anyone here care to comment on how that leak occurred?"

For a long time, no one said anything. Eventually, Bennett said ominously, "I am all too aware that the only people who knew that Quest was being considered as a potential security risk are the four of us and Niemeyer. Since I have to assume that Niemeyer has nothing to gain by leaking that information, it stands to reason it comes from here. I promise you, I will find that leak, and when I do . . ." He didn't finish the sentence . . . he didn't need to.

Barclay sighed into the resulting stillness. "Right now, Admiral, I think the question is, what are we going to do? What are the chances that Quest is bluffing?"

"Zero," Bennett replied, flatly. "The man doesn't bluff about things like this. If he says he'll do it, then he'll do it."

"In that case, I don't see that we have much choice," Wolenchek observed. "We go to Maine, and once there, we do the best we can to defuse the situation. We can't let the man go public with any of this, because if he does, it's going to lead right back to the real reason for it all and that we can't risk."

"But we are still under the same direction from Niemeyer to keep Quest in the dark," Barclay pointed out. "I don't see how we can do that and satisfy Quest."

"Then it's time to say, 'Screw Niemeyer' and do what we should have done all along . . . bring Quest into it and tap his expertise," Leeds said. "Bannon is not a security risk, and neither is Quest. It's suicide to try and keep them in the dark any longer."

"Unless Estella Velasquez is already dead," Bennett said heavily. He sighed deeply. "Leeds is right. We no longer have a choice. But if we're going to defy Niemeyer, we might as well go all the way. Ethan, I want you to put together a team of about 40 men. Make them the best we can get our hands on. I'd be willing to bet that Quest will never let them within the Compound, but the place is isolated and surrounded by large stands of trees. It may be a fortress when it's locked down, but it's not going to hurt if we put some added manpower on its outer perimeter. Hopefully, in the end, Quest will let us keep them there. And all of us are going to go, not only Isaac and I."

Leeds stood up abruptly. "Perhaps it's not a wise idea for me . . ."

Bennett turned an icy stare on the Irishman. "You will go, Leeds. It's not a request."

"Bannon won't want me there," the man replied flatly.

Bennett looked at the man meaningfully. "On the other hand, if Estella Velasquez is dead and he thinks you had any involvement in this at all, he may want you there very badly . . . " Bennett looked at his watch. "It is now 04:30, gentleman. We leave for Maine in 45 minutes. I would suggest you prepare yourselves."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Race woke suddenly. He lay there motionless searching for what had brought him to consciousness. It was still early. The light that was seeping into the room was the soft gray of pre-sunrise. Estella lay nestled in his arms; her back curled into the curve of his body. Her breathing was slow and even, and the shadow of a smile played at the corner of her lips. He had just about decided that nothing untoward had brought him awake when the sound came again . . . a soft scraping tap on the door of their bedroom. Race untangled himself and rose, moving soundlessly. Estella stirred, uttering a tiny sound of protest, and Race leaned over and tucked the blanket around her gently. With a soft sigh, she settled back into sleep. Race grabbed up his bathrobe and crossed to the door swiftly. Carefully, he opened it and slid through into the outer living area. Benton stood waiting for him. Race motioned him toward the outer door and the two men moved across the room and out into the corridor of the main house. Closing the door quietly behind him, Race turned and eyed Benton Quest closely. He was still dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing when they had parted earlier that morning, and there was a tenseness about him that Race found disturbing.

"Problem?" Race asked quietly.

Benton shook his head. "No. Or, at least, not really."

Race raised an eyebrow at him and said, "I'm not sure that makes me feel a great deal better."

"We're going to have company." Benton consulted his watch. "In about an hour. I could do this alone, but I'd rather have you with me if you feel up to it."

"I feel fine. I've gotten a couple of hours of sleep. Have you?"

Benton hesitated and then shook his head. "No, I was too wound up to sleep."

"This won't do, Benton, and you know it."

"Yes, I know. But right now we need answers, and I intend to get them. Admiral Bennett and Isaac Wolenchek are due here at 8:00 and we need to be ready for them."

Race did a double take. "Bennett here? How did you accomplish that?"

"I didn't give him a choice," Benton replied grimly.

"You called him and politely invited him for morning coffee and he agreed?" Race asked with heavy sarcasm.

"Not exactly."

Race sighed. "Please tell me you didn't threaten him."

"Well . . ."

"Benton, you know that's not the way to get cooperation out of these people."

"I had to do something! I'm not going to allow the members of this family to be sitting ducks while these people make up their minds about what they're going to do."

Race just shook his head. "Alright. Let me go grab some clothes and then I'll use the bathroom upstairs to take a shower. Stel's still asleep and I want to let her stay that way as long as possible."

"Good. I'm going to get some coffee and I'll meet you in the study."

Twenty minutes later, Race entered the study to find Benton sitting at his desk. Hadji sat in one of the large chairs near the desk, while Jonny leaned against the wall right next to his father. It looked like this was going to be a larger council of war than he had expected. "So what's the agenda?"

Benton shrugged. "I'm going to get answers."

"Do you have any idea how you plan to do that?"

Benton sat brooding for a moment before he looked up at the younger man. Race was struck forcibly by the fury in his eyes. He had himself under control, but Race wasn't terribly sure how firmly.

"Exploding is not going to help the situation," Race warned as he walked over and sat down in the high-backed wing chair next to Hadji.

Benton sat back and rubbed his temples for a minute. "I know. And I won't lose my temper, I promise you. Something you said stuck with me, Race. These people are scared, and I intend to use that. If a bit of intimidation will get me what I want, I'm not going to hesitate to use it."

"Alright, but don't push too hard. These people will only give just so far and then they'll start to push back . . . rather forcibly. If things are as bad as I have the feeling they are, we are going to need them. We don't want to permanently alienate them."

"Understood."

Everyone in the room stiffened as IRIS announced, "A VEHICLE HAS TURNED OFF OF THE HIGHWAY ONTO THE MAIN ACCESS ROAD TO THIS FACILITY."

All four of them glanced at the clock on the nearby mantle. 7:55. "Success number one," Benton said, smiling grimly. "They're right on time. Route video surveillance feed to the monitor screen in the study, please, IRIS," Benton said, sitting forward in his chair. Both Race and Hadji turned to stare at the screen, and Jonny rose to stand at his father's back. They all watched as an unmarked, white sedan turned onto the snow-packed road and moved slowly toward the main gate.

Finally, Jonny remarked, "There are more than two people in that car." "I would say there are four," Hadji agreed.

"Race, can you tell who they are?" Benton asked.

After a moment Race shook his head. "Not from this distance."

Benton leaned back again, brooding. Finally, Jonny said, "I don't think we should let them in here without knowing who's in that car."

"I would suggest that we do not let the car in here at all," Hadji added.

"Agreed." Race said firmly. "It's too easy for them to bring something in without us knowing it."

Benton nodded, but before he could say anything else, Jonny said, "Then we go get them and escort them back here to the house. I'll go."

Race made to rise. "No, that's my job."

"Pardon me, Race, but I do not believe that is a wise idea." Hadji said. "We know you are already a prime target, probably because you are in charge of the security here. It would not be wise to expose you to a second attack until we know for certain that these are not the people responsible. Jonny is right. Someone else should go, but I believe I am the best person to do so."

"Now, how do you figure that?" Race asked as Hadji stood.

"Because, if I am not mistaken, Father threatened them with exposure, and that has made them come here. I believe, then, that they want to avoid this at all costs. I am the leader of a foreign country that would turn my death into an international incident. I do not believe they would attack me and risk that kind of publicity."

"Nice thinking, Hadj," Jonny said, "but you don't go alone. We both go." Moving around the desk, he said calmly, "Hang on, I'll be right back." With that, he left quickly.

"Alright," Race said reluctantly, "but you keep in constant contact with us. Pick up communications headsets before you leave and keep up a running dialog, at least until you get to the gate and get them in the car. IRIS will be able to monitor you visually, but you'll be too far out of range for us to hear anything. Also, have them move that car about 100 yards back from the gate, park it and walk back to the fence. You're to bring them in through the pedestrian gate, not open the big one."

As Hadji nodded and stood, Jonny came striding back in the door. "Here," Jonny said tossing something to his brother. Hadji caught the laser rifle deftly as Jonny swung the matching one up and double-checked the charge. For the first time, both Race and Benton looked alarmed.

"I don't know if that's . . ." Benton started to say, but Jonny cut him off.

"You know my feelings about guns, Dad, and I sure won't use this one unless I absolutely have to. But I really don't think it's a good idea to go out to meet those guys unarmed, do you? Particularly when we know they will be."

Race and Benton looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, Race shook his head. "I hate to say it, Benton, but I think he's right. Until we know for certain what kind of game we're in the middle of, none of us are safe."

"Furthermore," Jonny added with a wicked grin, "there is the intimidation factor. How comfortable would you be if you were being forced to walk into a potential war zone and you arrived to be greeted at the gate by two teenagers with guns?"

Benton's lips twitched in sudden amusement, but he quickly got himself under control and said sternly, "Alright. Just be careful and don't do anything stupid."

Both young men moved toward the door determinedly, but just before they reached it, Race stopped them. "One more thing." Both of them turned to look at him. "I want all of them in full view of the video cameras before you open that gate. I want to know who we're letting in here." Both of them nodded and then turned and strode out of the room.

Race turned back and gave Benton a long look. "I hope you know what you're doing." Before Benton could reply, the phone on his desk began to ring.

"So do I," he replied as he picked it up. "Benton Quest," he said into the phone. He listened for a moment, and Race watched as his expression darkened. However, when he replied, his tone was light and cordial. "No. No, I don't know anything about it. No, I'm sure it's nothing . . . probably just routine. Of course, Barbara, I'll let you know. Thanks for calling. Yes, I do too. I'll see you this afternoon, then? Okay, good. Take care." Benton dropped the receiver back into the cradle and looked at Race grimly.

"Barbara Mason?" Race asked.

"Yes. It appears our friends here have brought backup with them. Barbara informs me that there are six rather large military vehicles, the kind that transport men and equipment, sitting up the road from her house just outside of Rockport."

"And naturally, she thinks to call and tell you about it."

"Well, let's face it, we had her out here at 2:00 a.m. this morning to take care of Estella. She's not stupid . . . she knows what I do for a living can be dangerous, and she's had to care for all of us at one time or another. I'm just grateful she let us know."

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate her willingness to keep us up to speed. I just find it interesting that you're the first person she thinks of."

"She's a good friend," Benton replied distractedly, his attention focused on the video monitor across the room. Race just grinned and returned to his chair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The white sedan, with Bennett behind the wheel, came to a stop a few feet from the main gate of Quest Compound. Carefully, Bennett put the car in park and turned off the engine. Nothing stirred in the early morning stillness, and the high gate in front of them remained firmly closed.

"Maybe they don't know we're here," Wolenchek ventured.

"They know," Bennett replied grimly. "They're taking stock of the situation."

"Why don't we just go up and ring the doorbell?" Leeds asked flippantly.

Bennett turned his head and gave the younger man a cold stare. Finally, he said, "Because I have seen the defenses of this facility in operation and I value my life."

"We can't just sit here," Leeds replied in irritation.

"We can and we will."

"We don't need to," Barclay replied, staring out the front window of the car.

They all turned and saw Jonny Quest and Hadji Singh standing on the other side of the gate. Side by side, they both stood warily, feet slightly apart, about 15 feet back from the fence. Both held weapons in a resting/ready position. With a sinking heart, Bennett opened the car door and, uttering a terse, "Stay here," he exited the car and moved a few steps forward. After a brief moment, he said, "Mr. Quest. Mr. Singh."

No friendly greetings and light-hearted banter this time. Jonny gestured at the vehicle with the gun. "Everybody out," he said flatly.

Bennett turned and gestured to the others, who all climbed out of the car and stood silently beside it.

"Open the back door." Jonny said tersely. Bennett complied without a word. "Your weapons . . . onto the floorboards . . . all of them." The three government men all pulled pistols out and did as instructed. Leeds added a second smaller gun and a knife.

"That's all of them," Bennett replied quietly.

"Be sure," Jonny said in a hard voice. "IRIS will know if it's not and you don't want to mess with her."

"I know. That's all of them," Bennett assured him again.

"You," Jonny said, pointing at Wolenchek, "back the car up and park it head-in under those trees over there. The rest of you, stay right where you are." Wolenchek moved forward and climbed into the driver's seat. Backing carefully on the slick drive, he maneuvered the car into the cleared spot under the trees. When he was finished, he climbed out and returned to the others.

"Very slowly, approach the fence. Don't touch it." The men did as they were told, coming to a stop about a foot from the barrier.

Back in the house, Race stared at the four men and uttered a heartfelt curse. He looked at Benton and said bitterly, "I should have expected this . . . Leeds. I don't want him here, Benton. All else aside, his presence will upset the hell out of Estella."

Benton sighed. "I'm sorry, old friend. I didn't tell Bennett to bring him, but now that he's here, I really think we should see him. So far, he's been the only one who appears to be willing to talk to us."

Race turned from the video monitor in agitation, running a hand through his hair. Finally, he turned back and with bitter resignation, he said into the headset he wore, "Alright, Jonny. Let them in . . . but keep an extremely close eye on them . . . especially the younger man with the black hair. Both of you, behind them . . . not in front. Don't turn your back on them. And keep your guns ready. I've also had second thoughts about putting you in an enclosed vehicle with them. So you're all gonna walk. Just take it nice and steady and bring them right up the main drive to the front door. And no conversation. Let them sweat."

Back at the gate, Jonny moved slightly to one side and approached the fence. To the empty air, he said, "IRIS, prepare to institute lockdown bypass procedures on my mark."

Hadji looked at the four men and motioned for them to move. "Move to the gate, please. When it opens you will move through it quickly, and in single file. Once inside, you will stand there, " he pointed to a spot about 20 feet inside the perimeter, "and you will wait. Is that understood?" All four nodded. Hadji looked at Jonny and nodded.

"IRIS, initiate lockdown bypass sequence for gate 2376 now."

"VOICE RECOGNITION PATTERN CONFIRMED. LOCKDOWN BYPASS SEQUENCE INITIATED. PLEASE PROVIDE AUTHORIZATION CODE OMICRON AT THIS TIME."

Jonny thought quickly and replied, "29Delta735Charlie413."

"AUTHORIZATION CODE ACCEPTED. PLEASE PLACE YOUR LEFT HAND ON THE RECOGNITION PANEL AND STATE YOUR FULL NAME AND TITLE."

He stepped up and laid his hand flat against the solid metal panel that formed the center of the gate. "Jonathan Benton Quest, Junior Research Technician and youngest son of Dr. Benton Christopher Quest, Director and Senior Research Scientist, Quest Enterprises, Incorporated, Rockport, Maine."

"HAND PRINT VERIFIED. VOICE PRINT VERIFIED. IDENTITY CONFIRMED. NOTE THAT THERE ARE FOUR INDIVIDUALS OUTSIDE GATE 2376 WHO DO NOT HAVE AUTHORIZED ACCESS TO THIS FACILITY UNDER CURRENT SECURITY STATUS. ARE THESE PEOPLE TO BE ALLOWED ACCESS AT THIS TIME?"

"Allow them entry to the grounds and safe passage to the main residential complex. They are to remain on the main road and are to be accompanied by an individual with authorized access at all times. At no time are they to be allowed to be unaccompanied or to be allowed access to any area classed as level 1. Access is to be revoked with extreme prejudice on the command of any authorized person in this facility or upon the violation of any of the stated access parameters."

In the study, Race chuckled grimly and said to Benton, "Now, there's intimidation for you. To anyone in the intelligence community, what Jonny just told IRIS was that any or all of them are to be killed if they violate any of the access conditions."

Benton shook his head and simply said, "Over the top . . . that's my son."

"INSTRUCTIONS ACCEPTED AND CONFIRMED. PLEASE PROCEED THROUGH GATE 2376. SECURITY LOCKDOWN WILL REESTABLISH IN 30 SECONDS."

Jonny tugged on the gate, which swung open easily, and gestured for the four men to proceed. They all entered and moved quickly to the place Hadji had indicated. Jonny gave the gate a shove and it swung shut with a loud clang.

"LEVEL THREE SECURITY LOCKDOWN REINITIATED. PREPARING FOR IDENTITY AND VOICE PRINT RECOGNITION REGISTRATION OF VISITORS."

Jonny gestured to Bennett. "Full name, title, place of employment. Go."

"Charles Donald Bennett, Admiral, United States Navy and Commander of U. S. Military Forces." The remaining three men each did the same. There was silence for a few seconds and then IRIS said,

"IDENTITY AND VOICE PRINT RECOGNITION REGISTRATION COMPLETE. YOU MAY PROCEED UNDER STATED CONDITIONS TO THE MAIN RESIDENCE."

"Okay, let's go. Straight up the drive to the house. You first."

"I take it we're going to walk," Leeds said, sounding slightly disgusted as they moved past the van sitting just out of sight of the main gate.

"It's a nice day for a stroll in the sunshine," Jonny said with grim humor. "Move."

Finally, the group approached the house. As they moved onto the flagstones, Race said, "Stop them there."

"Stop here," Jonny said sharply, and everyone came to a halt.

"Hadji, you first," Race commanded. "Up to the house, bypass the security and make sure the halls are clear straight back to the study before you allow them in the house. I don't want them encountering any of the rest of the family as they come through."

Giving the four men a wide berth, Hadji moved to the door and went through the same bypass sequence that had been used at the gate, identifying himself as the eldest son of Benton Quest and stating his title as a Scientific Research Technician with Quest Enterprises. When the door opened he disappeared inside and the four men moved to follow him through.

"STOP!" Jonny snapped sharply, the laser rifle coming to bear on them. "You move only when told to." The four men stopped and they all exchanged grim looks.

Finally, Hadji returned to the door and gestured at them, saying, "Alright, you may enter. Admiral Bennett, you are to lead the way, then Commander Barclay, Dr. Wolenchek, and Mr. Leeds last. Move directly through the house to the study . . . you know where it is, Admiral. When you reach the door, stop. We will be directly behind you." As the men moved forward in the designated order, Hadji stepped back and to one side, allowing them to pass into the house. Following their instructions carefully, Bennett led the group through the downstairs corridors of the main house directly to the door of Benton Quest's study. When all of them reached the study door, Hadji said quietly into his microphone, "We have arrived, Father." In the tomb-like silence of the house, the click of the automatic lock on the study door could be clearly heard.

"Open the door and enter," Jonny commanded. Bennett did so and stepped into the study. The room into which they entered was huge. To their left, the men could see a large, flat work table about eight feet square. Across from this, on the opposite side of the room, was a space that was normally a reading area with chairs and area lights. However, four of those chairs had been moved and were now lined up directly in front of a huge, gleaming desk of some dark wood, which sat facing the door on the far side of the room. The room was vaulted, reaching upward two full stories, and a huge window that looked out across the property toward the sea, filled much of the wall behind the desk. A flat panel video monitor screen was visible on the wall immediately to the right of the door as they entered.

Two pictures hung in the room. The first was a large watercolor of a tropical island that hung near the desk on the left-hand wall. The other was a full-length oil portrait of a beautiful blonde woman with blue eyes that hung in the reading area. She sat easily in a chair and on the floor beside her was a young child with the same shining gold hair. Both of them were smiling. The portrait had its own lighting and was displayed such that it attracted immediate attention. Bennett could feel the three men with him pause as it caught their attention. He knew the way they felt. No matter how many times he had been in this room, he still felt the impact of that picture. Rachel Wildey Quest had always had that effect on people.

The rest of the wallspace in the room, ceiling to floor, was lined with bookshelves and storage cabinets composed of the same, rich wood as the desk. A second floor mezzanine with a wrought iron railing circled the room, providing access to the books and cabinets on the upper level of the room. Near the large window, a spiraling staircase of the same wrought iron connected it to the first floor.

"Sit down," Jonny said, indicating the four chairs, and the men moved to comply. Once they were seated, Jonny and Hadji moved to either side of the desk and stood flanking their father.

Benton Quest sat like a statue behind the desk, staring at the four visitors with dark, stormy eyes. Behind him, silhouetted against the window, was Race Bannon. His back was turned and he stared out of the window, as if ignoring their visitors. Everyone was silent for a long moment.

Finally, Admiral Bennett said, "Are the weapons really necessary, Dr. Quest?"

"I don't know, Admiral. You tell me." Bennett could hear the same fury in Quest's voice that he had heard earlier, however it now appeared to be more firmly in check.

Bennett leaned forward and said earnestly, "I assure you, Dr. Quest, that they aren't. I swear to you, no one in this room would ever have ordered an attack on anyone in your family."

"And what about your people outside this room, Admiral? Can you swear that oath as firmly?" Bennett was silent. "I thought not."

Bennett tried again. "Dr. Quest, this attack was not the work of anyone in the government. I won't lie and say that there haven't been people who have voiced concern, but this was not our doing." Bennett looked past Benton to where Race Bannon still stood staring out the window. "Race . . . we don't know . . . is Dr. Velasquez . . . Estella . . . was she hurt in the attack?"

Race turned and moved up slowly to stand beside Benton. The two men exchanged an unreadable look, but before either could answer, there was a knock on the door and Estella walked in. She was dressed in blue jeans and a soft brown sweater. "Benton, is Race in . . . oh!" She stopped and looked briefly embarrassed. "I'm sorry . . . I didn't realize you had guests."

Bennett shot to his feet and turned swiftly, "Dr. Velasquez!" Before anyone could move, Bennett strode across the room, holding his hands out to the woman. "Thank God you're safe!"

Estella smiled at the man in surprise, and took his proffered hands. "Admiral Bennett, isn't it? It's been a long time."

Bennett examined the woman closely, relieved to note that she did not appear to be seriously hurt. There was a darkening bruise on one cheek and her forearms, visible below the pushed up sleeves of her sweater, showed a collection of small cuts and scrapes. There was also a large white bandage on one arm. "Yes, it's been a few years," he replied.

Behind him, Estella noticed that everyone else had risen, and that Race was rounding the desk hastily. Her smiled dimmed when she spotted the guns that Jonny and Hadji held. "Is there a problem? Race . . ." Race reached out and, catching her hands out of Bennett's grasp, he carefully positioned himself between the two of them.

"No problem, Stel," he assured her. "Admiral Bennett and his people are just here to discuss what happened last night, that's all." He tried to turn her back toward the door, but Estella slipped from his grasp and turned back to Bennett.

"It's nice of you to be willing to help, Admiral." She looked over the other men in the room. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting your co-workers."

Bennett hesitated fractionally, looking at Bannon. He didn't miss the look of helplessness that flashed across Race's face. It occurred to Bennett that Estella Velasquez probably hadn't changed much over the intervening years.

"Then please, allow me to introduce you." He presented Barclay first and then Wolenchek. Estella smiled at the scientist and said,

"I found your work on advanced systems of dating via cosmic tracking markers extremely interesting, Doctor. If we are able to find the time, I'd be interested in discussing your theories in relation to some research work I'm currently involved in."

Dr. Wolenchek sketched a slight bow. "I would enjoy that very much, Dr. Velasquez. We will have to make it a point."

Estella turned to the fourth man with a smile and said, "And you?" Beside her, Estella could feel Race stiffen sharply and Bennett hesitated. Into the brief silence, the man stepped forward and offered his hand.

"Connor Leeds of I-1."

The smile on Estella's face vanished. She took a deliberate step backward as Race's arm came around her. "What is he doing here?" she asked sharply.

Bennett stepped between the two of them and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Dr. Velasquez. I brought him. Mr. Leeds has been involved with this business from the beginning and I felt it was important that he was available to answer Dr. Quest's questions concerning this entire affair."

"He wasn't invited here, Stel," Race assured her.

Estella shook Race's arm off and reaching out, she shoved Bennett out of the way so she was again facing the man directly. Her hands clenched into fists and her skin darkened as she began advancing on him slowly.

"Was this your doing?" Her voice rose sharply. Race grabbed at her arm, muttering her name in a placating tone, but she shook off his hand.

"Did you set him up as a target knowing they'd try for him?" Bennett exchanged a concerned look with Race as Benton hastily moved to come around the desk. But it was too late. With a sudden, swift move Estella launched herself at Leeds, screaming in fury,

"DID YOU ALMOST GET HIM KILLED AGAIN, YOU BASTARD???" She lashed out with a fist and struck Leeds full in the face. Bennett and Barclay leaped forward and grabbed Leeds, holding him tightly, as Race snatched Estella and swung her around, putting his body protectively between her and her target. Estella struggled desperately, straining to renew her mindless attack, but Race held her securely, speaking in a low tone none of them could hear as he drew her further from the group of men standing nearby. He pinned her tightly against his chest, one arm around her waist while the other hand pressed her head into his shoulder. As quickly as it flared, her rage dissipated and she went limp. She clutched his shirt in her hands and began to cry in soft, wracking sobs.

Nearby, Bennett and Barclay held Leeds in a firm grip, but the man stood quietly, making no move to retaliate. Into the heavy silence, he said, "Dr. Velasquez, maybe in the past I have done things that have put him at risk, but I swear to you . . . I had nothing to do with the attack on the two of you yesterday." Shaking his arm loose from Bennett's grasp, he reached up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It came away bloody. "I swear I didn't," he repeated.

Without looking back or acknowledging his words, Race reached down and picked Estella up in his arms, cradling her gently. He shot a lightning-quick look to Jonny who moved swiftly to the door and opened it for him. Without another word, Race left the room, taking Estella with him. Jonny shut the door again and turned, leaning against it.

Everyone remained frozen in place for a moment longer. Then Benton turned and gestured at the four men. "Sit down," he ordered as he moved to return to his chair. Bennett and Barclay released Leeds and the four men again sat down. Benton gazed around the room with an unreadable expression and, after a moment, he said, "Jonny . . . Hadji, I don't think the weapons will be needed. Put them away." Both young men powered down their laser rifles and pulled the power packs. Hadji took the rifle from Jonny and then left the room. Jonny remained standing by the door.

Benton contemplated his guests for a moment, then finally commented, "You are either much braver or much more stupid than I assumed you were, Admiral."

Bennett returned the look quizzically. "Why do you say that, Dr. Quest?"

"You honestly didn't know whether Estella was alive?"

Bennett shook his head. "No, we didn't. Details about the attack are extremely sketchy. We knew Bannon had survived and that there were three people dead, but we didn't know their identities."

"Stupid, Admiral," Benton said, sitting back in his chair. "Very, very stupid. I don't know if I could have kept any of you alive if Estella had died." Benton looked directly at Leeds. "Particularly you."

"I had nothing to do with it," Leeds insisted again.

"Maybe not. But I'm not sure Race would have been rational enough to make that distinction."

Leeds turned and looked back at the door. "I can understand that," he replied after a long minute. "He's a lucky man." Sitting back and rubbing his jaw gently, he said wryly, "She's got a mean right cross."

Benton glanced up as the door opened again and Hadji walked back in, followed closely by both Jessie and Kefira. Jonny and Jessie exchanged looks and some unspoken communication seemed to pass between them. As Hadji moved forward to return to Benton's side, Jonny followed and Jessie and Kefira took up positions on either side of the door. None of them said a word.

"So now what, Dr. Quest?" Bennett asked directly. "You wanted us here, and we came. What's next?"

"Next, Admiral, are answers. I will tolerate no more hedging. Whether you instigated the attack on Race and Estella or not, your actions over the past week or so have put my family at considerable risk and that is going to stop."

Bennett sighed. "Unfortunately, even if I tell you what's going on, it's not going to end the risk to you or your family. That has nothing to do with us."

Benton contemplated the men across from him briefly, and then said flatly, "It has to do with work on immersive VR systems."

Wolenchek sat forward abruptly, "How did you know that?" he demanded.

Benton smiled grimly. "Admiral Bennett was way too interested in that subject the last time he was here. There was an underlying urgency that went far beyond budgetary constraints for the training of soldiers. And he was suddenly, extraordinarily concerned for my safety, even though he is well aware of the defensive capabilities of this facility. All of that led me to believe that something was up." Abruptly, his smile disappeared. "However, I did consider him enough of a friend that I didn't expect him to leave us out on a limb and open to the kind of attack that occurred last night."

Behind them, the door to the study opened and Race came back into the room. He closed the door, noting the two additions to the people in the room without comment. As he crossed to the desk, Benton said to him, "Pull up a chair and sit down, Race. How is Estella?"

"She's resting," he replied as he sat down. "Mrs. Evans is with her. She's still exhausted." Race looked across at Leeds. "She's been under a lot of stress," he commented, as if in oblique apology. After a moment, he added, "I appreciate your restraint." Leeds simply nodded. "What have I missed?"

Benton looked again at Bennett. "The Admiral was just about to explain what's been going on here."

Bennett nodded. "Let me preface this by saying that I would have come to you immediately if I hadn't been under direct orders not to do so," Bennett said. "It was my opinion that you should have been brought in on this situation from the beginning, but decision was overridden at a higher level."

"By Niemeyer," Race said flatly. Bennett nodded.

"So the instructions came from the President," Benton said thoughtfully.

Bennett frowned slightly, "That has been the assumption. But in the last 24 hours or so I've begun to wonder."

Race and Benton didn't miss the sudden look of surprise that Barclay and Leeds shot their superior.

"Why don't you start by telling us what's been going on," Benton suggested, "and we'll go from there."

"One question, Admiral," Race interrupted. "Have your orders changed in any way?"

"No."

"So you're violating a direct order by being here."

"Yes."

"And the troops waiting back in Rockport?"

Bennett grimaced. "So you know about those, too. Yes, those are against orders, as well."

"You had to know that I would never have allowed them in here, Admiral." Benton said grimly.

"I know. I didn't bring them with the intention of trying to put them in here. I am hoping you will allow me to disperse them in the forest on your outer perimeter. It will add an additional buffer zone between the facility and any possible attackers."

Benton's face darkened ominously and in a tightly controlled voice, he replied, "You know what happened the last time I allowed someone to talk me into an action of that sort."

"Yes, Dr. Quest, I know, but . . ."

"I will not allow what happened to my wife to occur again!"

"Please, Dr. Quest," Bennett exclaimed desperately, ". . . Benton . . . I know what happened to Mrs. Quest was tragic, but it was an accident! And to put your family at added risk now because of an incident that occurred almost twelve years ago simply doesn't make good sense."

"An accident???" Benton said tightly. Then his voice rose sharply. "One of your trigger-happy soldiers shot my wife and you call it an accident??????" Both Jonny and Hadji stepped forward, pressing Benton back into his chair as he attempted to rise.

"Please, Father, now is not the time," Hadji urged him.

But it was Jonny who caught his eyes and stopped him mid-tirade. He pressed his hand to his father's shoulder and said in a voice that was deep and intense, "Dad, this is not what Mom would want. You know the kid that shot her didn't mean to do it. I was there . . . I-I remember him . . ." Jonny's voice trailed off as traces of the grief and horror that had lingered over the years were suddenly reflected in his face. "He knelt beside her and cried like a baby," he continued in a choked voice. " . . . he begged her not to die . . . I-I remember she opened her eyes and smiled at him . . ." Benton put his face in his hands and they could all see his shoulders shaking. Father and son remained frozen, remembered grief overpowering them.

Bennett hesitated for a moment, then rose, gesturing his companions to do the same. He jerked his head at the door, signaling Race of his desire to step outside. Race nodded, and with a quick squeeze of Hadji's shoulder, he moved to lead the four men from the room. Jessie opened the door as they approached and both she and Kefira followed them through, closing the study door softly behind them. Race hesitated for an instant, and then gestured up the hallway toward the front of the house. "We'll wait in family room."

They all moved to the front of the house, but when they reached the door to the family room, Jessie and Kefira stopped.

"I'm going to check on Mom," Jess said and turned away to retrace her steps toward the Bannon living suite.

"And I will get refreshments," Kefira added. "Will coffee be satisfactory?" Everyone nodded and she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Bennett and his companions sat down to wait, however Race prowled restlessly. Finally, Wolenchek asked tentatively, "Is it true? Did one of our own people kill Rachel Quest?"

Race shot the man a swift glance, but didn't answer. It was Bennett who replied, "Yes. It's true. She was killed by a 19-year-old kid who had been pinned down not far from her during a terrorist attack on the Quest's Palm Key residence." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead as though his head ached. Then he sighed and continued heavily. "It was the first time the boy had ever faced combat. We'd gotten reports of a planned attack on Dr. Quest. He was working for the government at the time, and he had been convinced . . . forced, actually . . . to accept military personnel in the Compound as security. Jonny had been in the house and Dr. Quest had been in his lab when the attackers struck, but Mrs. Quest was out on the grounds. We'd been prepared and the fighting didn't last long. It was almost over . . . the attackers had been routed and were fleeing when it happened. Jonny had managed to get away from the officer who was charged with watching him. He'd erupted out of the house, calling for his mother. No one knows why, but one of the fleeing attackers turned back to shoot the boy and the young soldier spotted him. He was carrying a submachine gun and opened up on the man. Unfortunately, Mrs. Quest had seen Jonny exit the house and she broke from cover, attempting to reach her son. She ran directly into the line of fire. There was nothing anyone could do. When Dr. Quest reached the scene, the soldier was kneeling beside her, trying to do what he could, and Jonny was crouched on the ground beside her, screaming. Her last words were for the young man who shot her . . . 'not your fault' . . . and then she died in Benton Quest's arms."

The silence in the room was absolute. Even Race stopped his pacing, staring at the floor. Finally, Leeds said softly, "No wonder the man hates government personnel."

"He survived," Race said distantly, resuming his restless movement, "but he's never forgotten."

"Or fully recovered," Wolenchek said sadly.

"No."

"I understand," Wolenchek agreed. "She was a hard woman to forget."

Race looked at him in surprise. "You knew them?"

Wolenchek shook his head. "No, I knew her . . . a long time ago . . . before she ever met Benton Quest."

Bennett looked at Wolenchek in surprise. "I never knew that."

"It was a long time ago," he repeated.

Kefira came in carrying a tray with a pot and coffee cups. She poured the coffee and served it, moving quietly and gracefully around the room. As she served Bennett, he thanked her and said, "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met."

She straightened and met his eyes steadily. "No, we have not," she replied stiffly, and then moved away without saying anything else. Bennett looked over at Race in consternation and saw a smile flicker. Kefira turned to Race and said, "I will go and check on Jessie and Estella now."

Race nodded and said, "I'd appreciate that." She turned and strode out of the room, her back ramrod straight and head high. Race watched her go, and then turned back to Bennett with thinly veiled amusement. "I don't think she likes you, Admiral."

"Who is she? I'm surprised to see a stranger here just now."

"She isn't a stranger. She's family."

Race saw realization dawn. "Mr. Singh's fiancée?"

"Yes."

"Gentlemen." Everyone turned to see Hadji in the doorway. "My father asks that you join us once more." They all followed Hadji back to the study. As they entered, they saw that Benton still sat in the large chair behind the desk with Jonny behind and to his left.

Like a sentinel, Bennett thought to himself, or a guardian angel. As the government men took their seats once again, Hadji moved back to Benton Quest. As naturally as if he had been born there, the young man took up his position to Benton's right. No, Bennett corrected himself, a matched pair. He was suddenly struck by how much these two young men had changed since the last time he'd really noticed them. Both were tall, Hadji close to six feet and Jonny one or two inches taller. Jonny had filled out, Bennett noticed, having the same broad, muscular shoulders and narrow hips as his father. Hadji had a more slender build, but a sense of competence and quiet strength seemed to radiate from him. A pair to be reckoned with, Bennett thought.

"I must apologize for my behavior, gentlemen. It was . . . unacceptable." Benton said in way of greeting.

Bennett looked closely at the man in front of him and recognized the signs of exhaustion. It occurred to him that Benton Quest probably had not slept in a very long time. "No apologizes are necessary, Dr. Quest. I understand completely. It does not change the situation, however. I hate to push the issue, but . . ."

"Admiral, my sons have convinced me not to dismiss the offer out of hand, but neither am I convinced that I am going to allow it. We'll start with an explanation of the situation that forces you to feel they are necessary and go from there."

With a nod, Bennett began to tell them about the rumors of the weapons dealer that was searching for only for the most cutting edge of technology, the placement of a mole in the man's organization, the video footage they managed to obtain of the test of the weapon, and their conclusions on the weapon's weak points. Benton listened quietly, asking no questions. When Bennett finally came to a stop, Benton considered what he had been told for a long time.

"Yes, I can see where you would be concerned," Benton finally replied. "That kind of a weapon would be extremely dangerous." He glanced over at Isaac Wolenchek and said heavily, "This is Victor Payson's work, isn't it?"

Wolenchek nodded. "We think so. At least it looks like the prototype of the funding proposal I saw about a year ago."

"What does Payson say?"

"Nothing," Barclay replied. "He's dead."

"Are we correct in our guess that you've solved these problems, Dr. Quest? And that you could make this weapon work?" Bennett asked directly.

Rather than answering his question, Benton replied with one of his own. "But that's not all of it, is it Admiral? This is the point you were at when you came to see me a week ago. Something has happened since that has made it more urgent. What is that?"

Bennett hesitated and before he could answer, there was a sharp knock on the door and it opened to admit Jessie and Kefira. Without a word, both young women walked across the room and took up positions beside Jonny and Hadji. When Jessie saw Bennett hesitate, she said evenly, "Don't mind us, Admiral. Please go on." When Benton nodded, Bennett explained their concern about Baxter and his organization and their fear that he had begun to search for another scientist to complete the work.

"Jonny?" Jessie asked suddenly, looking closely at the young man next to her. Benton leaned his head back and gazed up at his younger son with a questioning look.

Jonny frowned, staring hard at the floor in concentration. "I . . . I know that name . . . from somewhere. I've heard it . . . "

"Perhaps your father . . ." Bennett began, but Race held up his hand imperatively and waved him to silence.

"Relax, Jonny," Race said softly. "Let it surface . . . "

Everyone watched as the young man breathed deeply, closing his eyes in an effort to allow the memory to surface. After a moment, he shook his head and opened his eyes again. "It's gone. But I know I've heard that name before . . . and not in the context of any discussion of my father's. This has a bad taste to it."

"Then let it go," Race advised, "and eventually it will come back to you." Jonny nodded.

Jonny looked at Bennett. "Pardon me. Please go on."

Bennett hesitated, but it was Leeds that took up the narrative, explaining about the slaughter at Brattleford Prison and the suspected release of Jeremiah Surd.

"We're relatively certain some form of nerve gas must have been used," Barclay added, "but we have no clue what it is. It was like nothing anyone has ever seen before. Its effects were both swift and devastating."

"What kind of total cycle?" Race asked.

"As close as we can tell, death to total decomposition of the victim in less than 12 hours."

"Jesus!" Race murmured.

"And if Surd can get that weapon working, we have serious trouble," Bennett said in conclusion.

"He can't," Jonny said. "The man is catatonic . . . totally unable to communicate. He's not going to be doing any weapons research."

"We know he was when he was removed from the prison, but Baxter can bring the best doctors to bear on the problem. There's a chance they can bring him out of it, but no one knows what caused it in the first place."

Jessie Bannon turned abruptly from the group and walked back to the window to stare out over the snow-covered landscape. There was an awkward silence and then Benton replied, "I don't think you need to worry . . . "

"They won't wake him up," Jessie said flatly turning back to stare at Bennett.

"Yes, well Ms. Bannon, I'm sure we all hope that's so, but . . ." He fell abruptly silent at the look in her eyes. It was cold, flat, and extremely final. It reminded Bennett sharply of Race at his most deadly.

"He won't wake up. Not without my knowing it." She stared at him coldly for a long moment before adding in a softly menacing tone, "No one messes with my family."

Before anyone could think of anything else to say, they were interrupted once more by a knock on the door. It opened again and Estella entered. Race started to rise, but Estella shook her head. "It's alright, Race. I was just looking for Jessie." She looked at Benton. "If you don't need her right now, I was hoping she could help me make some phone calls."

"Certainly," Benton replied readily. "Whatever you need." He glanced at his watch and then looked back at her with a trace of concern. "Isn't it about time for you to leave? It's close to 10:00."

Estella hesitated and her eyes fell. "That's what I need Jessie for. I-I'm going to call and postpone."

Benton shot to his feet and crossed the room to her swiftly. Taking her hands, he looked at her seriously. "Why?"

"What else can we do? There is no way to maintain sufficient security. You wouldn't be safe. None of us would. They've already tried for Race once. Who will they try for next? But I want you there . . . I want all of us there."

"Do you want to postpone, Estella? All else aside, do you want to put it off?" Benton asked her gently.

Her answer was barely audible. "No."

Benton turned to Race, who had come up and put his arm around Estella. "Do you, Race?"

"No."

He smiled at Estella then tilted her head up so she had to look at him. "Then we go on as planned."

"But how can we, Benton? There's the church and then the hotel for the banquet and reception. There is simply no possible way to ensure that all of us are safe. And even if we could do that, an attack would put our friends in town at risk. How can we possibly allow that?" Estella protested.

Benton shook his head. "We gamble that they haven't had the time to set up anything elaborate enough. Race is convinced that the attack last night was opportunistic and I tend to agree with him. The longer we wait the more time they have to prepare. And if anything, having me in the midst of it all makes our friends that much safer. They don't want me dead . . . they want me in hand and cooperative. And they have to know that they won't get that if they commit wholesale slaughter." Then he smiled at her gently. "Furthermore, I won't be turned into a recluse, Estella."

"But . . ."

"No buts. I want to see the two of you married again, and Jessie has worked too long and too hard to cancel now."

"Dr. Velasquez." The three of them turned to see Leeds standing an arm's reach away. Estella's expression tightened, and the two men with her tensed. But Leeds didn't back off. "Dr. Velasquez, please." He took a deep breath and his gaze fell for a fraction of an instant before her hard stare. Then it returned to her firmly and he said slowly, "Earlier, you asked if I had deliberately set Race up to get him killed, and I assured you that I hadn't. I swear that's the truth. But you were right in one respect. In the past, there have been times when I tried to use him for my own purposes." Estella's body was rigid and she just stood, staring at the man in front of her. "I'll offer you no excuses for that behavior . . . there are none good enough . . . particularly for the woman who loves him. But Dr. Velasquez, I'm not a monster. I wish the two of you only the best." A trace of bitterness entered his voice as he said, "God knows, few of us in this business every find any kind of peace . . . let alone the kind Race seems to have found with you . . . and who am I to begrudge him that." He took a deep breath and, in an intense voice, said, "Let me at least try to make amends for some of the things I've done. We brought manpower with us . . . men we had hoped to place around the perimeter of this compound to help guarantee its safety. Please, let us use these men to help insure that your wedding is safe and undisturbed." He saw the denial in her eyes and hastened to add, "I promise you, these people are good . . . the very best. They will be invisible . . . you won't even notice them. But they will make certain that you, your family, and your friends will be free to give this occasion the undivided attention it deserves. Admiral Bennett, Commander Barclay and I will see to it." For a long time, Estella stared at the man without responding. Finally, she looked up at Race with a question in her eyes.

"Your choice, sweetheart. I'll go with whatever you want." He flicked a quick glance at Leeds. "But for whatever it's worth, I think he's being straight with you."

"Benton? I know your feelings about military personnel as protection for your family."

"I know," he sighed. "But I'm not going to object to this. I don't want anything happening to spoil your wedding and I'll agree to it to insure its safety."

Estella's gaze returned to Leeds. "Very well, Mr. Leeds, I accept your offer." Her gaze turned to the men still standing back by the desk. "The guest list for the wedding itself and the dinner that follows is a small one and I'd ask that you join us for those." Her gaze returned to Leeds as she added, "All four of you." They all nodded. "The reception is a different matter. It's an open affair for all of our friends and acquaintances. It's designed for people to come and go at will."

Barclay nodded and said, "Then with your permission, Admiral Bennett and I will stay with you at the reception and Mr. Leeds will coordinate with our people outside. All you need do is let us know if you spot someone you don't know or feel uncomfortable with." Barclay looked over at Benton. "Dr. Quest, would you be able to provide us with inconspicuous communication equipment?"

Benton nodded. "I have something that will work."

"Then I believe that is all we'll need."

Estella nodded slowly, then looked at Leeds again. This time, the look she gave him was not as cold as before. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Leeds. I appreciate it."

"It truly is my pleasure, doctor."

Estella looked up at Race. "In that case, I need to go or I'll never be dressed in time."

He smiled down at her tenderly and replied, "Go get your stuff, and Jessie and Kefira will be along in a minute." She nodded and with a departing smile, she left the room.

Race stood, looking after her for a long minute, before he turned and said, "Jessica."

"Yes, sir," she replied, stepping forward.

"Stick close to your mother. I don't expect anything to happen, but don't let your guard down." He moved around behind Benton's desk and did something none of them could see. Then both, father and daughter turned toward the island painting on the nearby wall. Race reached out and grasped the picture by the base of the frame and pulled. It swung back, revealing a wall-mounted case concealed behind it. The case contained a variety of small, partially disassembled hand weapons. He stepped back and gestured to his daughter. She moved up and surveyed the contents.

From behind her, Benton said quietly, "I'd prefer the prototypes don't leave the Compound."

"Yes, sir," she repeated, and selected the stripped down base of a Glock 19 self-loading pistol. Without hesitation, she gathered the appropriate pieces from the case and assembled the weapon neatly. As she did so, Kefira stepped up and reached in, taking the base of an HK USP 9 mm pistol. With the same precision, she assembled the weapon. Race watched her closely, but without comment. Before loading it, she stepped to one side and brought the gun up in a steady, two-handed grip and sighted down the barrel toward the window. After a moment, she nodded to herself, as though satisfied, and turned back to find Jessie holding two ammunition clips and a webbed nylon shoulder holster out to her. Both young women shrugged into the holsters, snapped an ammunition clip into their pistols and seated them securely in the holsters. Then Jessie looked up at her father and said, "Nothing will happen to Mom." With a quick smile, both of them turned and left the room.

There was a brief silence as Race closed the weapons case and turned back to the others.

"Well," Barclay said, after a moment, as though at a loss for words.

"You seem to have them well trained, Race," Bennett added dryly.

"They know how to defend themselves," Race said noncommittally. He shot a swift look at Hadji, but the young man's face was expressionless. He took a deep breath and asked, "So, gentlemen, what's the plan?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the hall outside the study, Jessie commented, "You're pretty good with that gun."

Kefira glanced at her as they moved quickly up the hallway toward the staircase to the second floor. "Yes. I was required to learn when I was still very small."

"Really? Who taught you?"

"My father. He taught all of us." Seeing the surprised look on Jessie's face, she explained. "My home is high in the mountains. We come from an outlying province a long way from Bangalore City. The countryside surrounding our house is remote and much of it is still very wild. Both animals and roving bandits can be a danger." She smiled wistfully. "I am coming to realize that I will miss it very much while I am gone. Anyway, Sumant was always interested in the wildlife and nothing father could do would prevent him from going outside. When he was about ten, he had gone outside with Daria, and they were almost killed by a leopard. If father had not come along, they both probably would have died. After that, Father taught him how to shoot and required that if he was going to go outside of the walls of the outer courtyard, that he had to go armed. As we grew up, he required it of the rest of us as well." She laughed a bit ruefully. "I do not believe that any of us ever killed anything, other than snakes perhaps, but the guns were always good for scaring away the larger animals." She looked at Jessie again and a worried frown crossed her face. "I am very sorry. I did not even think about it when I took the gun. It seemed the natural thing to do if we are to protect your mother. Perhaps I should have asked Mr. Bannon before I did so."

Jessie laughed. "Don't worry. If my dad didn't think you could handle it, he never would have let you take it. Come on, we better hurry. Do you have a jacket or something that will fit over that shoulder holster?"

"I do not think so, but I can leave my coat on if necessary."

"Naw. You're my size and I'm sure I've got something that will fit. Come on, let's go see what we can find."

"There is no way we will be able to wear these with our dresses for the wedding," Kefira pointed out.

"I've got an idea on that, too. Come on . . ."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was about half an hour later that Race and Connor Leeds stepped out of the study and headed up the hallway toward the kitchen.

Leeds rubbed the back of his neck and commented, "I could really use a cup of coffee. This day started way too early."

"Tell me about it. And that's on top of yesterday ending way too late." They were quiet as they moved into the front of the house. As they neared the family room door, they heard a voice. It was low and intense.

"You will be careful."

"That sounds like an order." There was laughter underlying the reply, as well as an intimacy that brought both men to a stop in the doorway.

"Damned right," Jonny Quest replied. As Race and Leeds watched, the young man pulled Jessie into his arms and pressed her body tightly against his own. She went to him willingly, twining her arms around his neck, as one of his hands caught the nape of her neck and brought her lips to his. As the kiss deepened, her arms slipped from around his neck and slid down his sides in a sensual caress. She moaned softly and pulled him more tightly against her, as one of Jonny's hands slid up and began to stroke her back.

Race turned sharply, shoving Leeds, and both men moved away silently. As they entered the kitchen, Leeds looked over his shoulder at Race, grinning. "And you were commending me on my restraint? How do you deal with that?"

"Jonny's a good kid . . . and she loves him."

"Yeah, but still . . . "

Race shrugged as he pulled a couple of mugs out of a nearby cabinet. "Most of the time, I try not to think too closely about it. They make it a point to be discreet, so it's not often that I'm faced with scenes like that one."

"You have any idea if they've . . ."

"No, I don't," Race replied shortly, "and I don't want to know, either. Just drop it, okay?"

Leeds nodded, knowing when to back off. He took a sip of the coffee and dropped wearily into a nearby chair while Race rummaged around in the refrigerator. After a moment, Leeds commented,

"I'm still bothered by the business with Jeremiah Surd. How can your daughter be so certain that he's not going to come out of whatever catatonic state he's in?"

Race tossed Leeds an apple and sat down, biting into one himself. Then he shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll take her word for it. She put him in that state, so I'm willing to assume that she knows what she's talking about."

Leeds stopped, the apple halfway to his mouth. "She what? How did she do that?"

"I have no idea. All I know is that Surd attacked Jessie and she fought back. It was a mind control game of some sort or the other. In the end, Jess ended up free and Surd ended up catatonic. What she did or how she did it, I don't know and I don't ask."

"You weren't there?" The disbelief in Leeds voice was clear.

"I was dealing with Surd's lackeys. Jonny and Benton were with her at the time it occurred."

"So then, they know what happened. You can't tell me you didn't ask them. What did they say?"

Race looked over at the man in irritation. "I told you . . . I didn't ask. I didn't feel it was necessary to know. I trust Jonny and Benton. By the time I rejoined them, it was over, my daughter was safe, and they all assured me that Surd wouldn't be a threat any longer. I saw the man in person, and I knew what kind of state he was in, so I wasn't inclined to doubt them."

"You've certainly become a trusting soul over the last several years," Leeds commented with an edge of sarcasm.

Race gave Leeds a cold, meaningful look and replied, "Depends on who we're talking about trusting, now doesn't it?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Unspecified Location

"Do you have any idea how much of a mess you've made of all of this?" Edgerton asked in cold fury. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to take down anyone in the Quest family easily. Now you've warned them and if we do end up having to take Benton Quest, we'll have a hell of a time getting anywhere near the man!"

"The opportunity was there," Baxter replied with an indifferent shrug. "If we'd been able to take out Bannon, getting to Quest would have been easy. So the attempt failed . . . it doesn't concern me. It was worth a try. And the men who botched the attempt are dead now, so we don't need to worry about the attempt being traced back here. Quest has enough enemies. Who's to know which one tried to take out his head of security?"

Edgerton gritted his teeth in silence. Baxter was in a funny mood today . . . mellow and easy going. That usually meant one of two things . . . either he had something very nasty in mind for someone or else he'd just accomplished something that he thought would benefit him a great deal. Edgerton had gotten no hints of either one of those two things happening so he was highly suspicious of his employer's convivial mood. Changing the subject, he said,

"No one is having any luck with Surd. The man is little more than a giant turnip. If something can't be done to bring him out of whatever state he's in, he'll be of no use to us."

That statement caused Baxter to sit forward and frown. "I thought you were so sure he could be brought around."

Edgerton shook his head. "It should be. He's not brain dead by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, his brain activity is all but hyperactive. But he can't seem to make that connection between the inner thinking process and the outside world. The doctors are running out of ideas."

A slow flush began to build in Baxter's pale skin. "I don't accept that. I won't. You said he could get that weapon working . . . "

"I said he'd have the knowledge to get it working. No one told me that the man was in this state. I have one last thing to try when it comes to Surd. If that doesn't work, then we are looking at having to take Quest. Why do you think I'm so upset over the fiasco with Bannon? We're working under time constraints. The government knows about this project. There's been no trace of another plant in our organization, but that's not to say there isn't one here. We don't have time to wait six months for Quest to relax his guard again. We'll have to go up against everything he's got and hope we can win. In my estimation, we'll be lucky if we've got a 50/50 chance of success, even if we throw every resource at them."

"I told you that I don't care what it takes!" Baxter thundered, his volatile mood doing a complete reversal. He beat on the table in front of him with a fist and all but screamed. "Get that weapon working!"

The buzz of an intercom interrupted them. Edgerton picked up the receiver on a nearby telephone and punched a button. "I said we weren't to be disturbed!" Even from his position on the other side of the large table, Baxter caught the sudden squawk of the man on the other end of the phone and Edgerton's sudden look of concern. Before either man could do anything, the door on the far side of the room burst open and the body of a man came sailing toward them. The man landed at Edgerton's feet in a limp heap, and a contemptuous female voice said,

"You're getting sloppy, Nathaniel. Is this the quality of help you're resorting to these days? I'm surprised you're still alive!" Baxter turned beet red and opened his mouth to scream, but before he had the chance, Edgerton replied calmly,

"Hello, Julia. It's been a long time." The woman who entered the room moved with a controlled grace reminiscent of some type of large hunting cat or bird of prey. She was of medium height and had bobbed auburn hair. She was strikingly lovely . . . until you looked in her eyes. They were dark and cynical and the cruelty reflected there made her beauty irrelevant. In the door behind her a man appeared. Tall and burly with blond hair and brown eyes, he almost seemed to lumber when he moved. But Edgerton knew that impression was dangerous. He had seen this man in action and he could be as deadly as his companion. Edgerton nodded to the man in the doorway. "Lorenzo."

"Hey, doc. Interesting place you've got here."

"Thank you, but it's not mine." Edgerton gestured to the apoplectic man standing behind the table. "It belongs to him. I just work here."

Julia snorted. "Hope you're nice and high up, lover, because if he keeps up like that, he'll keel over dead and you'll be in the position to take over by default."

Edgerton turned to his employer and gestured at the two newcomers. "Julia and Lorenzo Canova," he said economically. Turning back to the two his said, "Richard Elias Baxter . . . my boss."

"Howdy," Lorenzo said cordially. He flopped down into a nearby chair and commented, "Sure wouldn't mind something to eat."

"HOW . . . DID . . . YOU . . . GET . . . IN . . . HERE????"

Julia smiled, cat-like, as she prowled the room restlessly. "I followed your people back here." She looked over at Edgerton. "You really didn't think I was just going to sit there until you called, did you?"

Edgerton chuckled. "No. I wanted to see if you were still as good as you used to be. I can see that you are. How much damage did you do getting in?"

She flicked her hand negligently. "Not much. Destroyed a couple of your booby traps, bypassed a quadrant of your perimeter security, and broke a couple of locks. Oh, yeah, and Lorenzo eliminated a couple of your guards."

"How completely did he eliminate the guards?"

"Permanently."

Edgerton nodded calmly. "We'll have to get replacements for them. Anything else?"

She shrugged. "Hacked into your computer system to locate you in this maze." She thought about it for a minute. "I guess that's about it."

There was a sudden sharp sound and the three of them looked to see Baxter pointing a gun directly at Julia. "I do not like interlopers," he grated with a wild light in his eyes. "Give me one good reason not to kill you right now.

Julia walked over and sat down in a chair nonchalantly. Then she laughed low in her throat and replied, "Because if you do, you'll never be able to get Jeremiah to help you."

"He's worthless," Baxter snarled.

"Now," she agreed with a nod. "But I know what's wrong with him and I know how to bring him out of it." She sat forward suddenly, anger and determination lighting a fierce fire in her eyes. "I can give him to you. But there's a price."

"What price?" Baxter demanded

Julia smiled again and, this time, the three men in the room all felt a shiver run down their spines. "I have a debt to repay and I want the resources you've got here to help me settle up."

"Why should I help you settle an old score?" Baxter sneered. "What benefit is it to me?"

"Because," she purred, "the debt is with the Quests." She looked at Baxter and raised one eyebrow. "Do we have a deal?"

The flush faded from Baxter's face and, slowly, a nasty smile began to develop. The man settled back down into his chair, and in a complete reversal of mood yet again, he replied in a pleasant tone, "It's a deal."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hold still, Mom! You're going to have this all over you if you don't stop squirming."

"What are you doing?" Estella demanded, shifting again. "If you put any more of that stuff on me, my head is going to list to one side!" From behind them, Kefira snickered.

Jessie turned a mock scowl on her new friend. "Go ahead . . . laugh . . . at least people can see your eyelashes. Ours are so light they might just as well not exist!"

"I did not say a thing," Kefira replied. Then she looked around and asked plaintively, "Has anyone seen my nylons? I cannot find them anywhere. I am just certain we brought them . . ."

"Try the box next to the bouquets," Estella suggested. "I'm sure I saw you put them in one of the flower boxes. And Jessie, you haven't even started changing yet!"

"I will in a minute. I just want to finish this . . . "

"They are not here . . . " Kefira said in disgust, straightening up.

"They have to be around somewhere," Jessie said firmly, glancing up at her. She did a doubletake as she saw that the Indian girl stood there in little more than a pair of underwear and a strapless bra. "Aren't you freezing to death? It's cold in here."

Kefira looked a little surprised. "Not that I noticed." She shivered abruptly, and rapped her arms around herself, staring at Jessie with an accusing look. "At least I was not until you mentioned it!"

Estella ducked out of Jessie's grasp and picked up a robe. Tossing it at Kefira, she said, "Here, put this on. Hadji will never forgive me if you end up with pneumonia out of this whole thing. We have got to get the heat turned up in here!"

Jessie was routing through another box. "She's right! The nylons aren't here anywhere. Now what are we going to do? We don't have time to go back for them!"

Estella had gone over to the mirror and was peering at her reflection in horror. "Jessica, I can't get married looking like this! I look like I'm ready to go out and work the streets!"

"But, Mom . . ."

In the midst of the chaos, a sharp knock sounded on the door and it opened to reveal another woman. She was of medium height and had a slender build, with dark hair that was attractively dusted with silver. Her brown eyes were warm and friendly, and a calm serenity seemed to radiate from her in waves. As she surveyed the mess, her mouth twitched with repressed laughter. Holding out a box, she said, "Sorry I'm late. This was out on one of the pews. Does it belong in here?"

Kefira pounced on it. "Here they are!" she announced triumphantly, waving a package of nylons at the other two.

Estella looked at the woman with relief. "Barbara! Thank God. Look at me! What am I going to do . . . "

"Dr. Mason, I have your dress . . ."

"Can you . . ."

"Whoa! Wait . . . stop!" Barbara Mason held her hand up to stem the tide. "One thing at a time. There is still plenty of time. It's only about 2:15 and the wedding isn't scheduled until 4:00. Don't panic yet." She took off her coat and tossed it across a nearby chair and then looked around in surprise. "It's freezing in here! Why don't you turn up the heat?"

Jessie looked embarrassed. "We just realized it was cold, and I don't think any of us know where the thermostat is."

Estella looked chagrined. "I think we're all hopeless. And I don't even have a good excuse. I've been through this before."

Barbara laughed as she located the thermostat behind the various dresses hanging nearby. "I refuse to believe that having been through it once helps one bit when doing it a second time. It's always crazed." She turned back and looked at the three other women. "And let me ask you a totally mundane question . . . when was the last time any of you ate?" The three exchanged blank looks. "Uh huh, that's what I figured," Barbara replied. She crossed back to the door again and picked up a box that was sitting on the table right outside the door. Bringing it in, she cleared a space on the coffee table and set it down. Inside was a host of finger food including vegetable sticks, cheese and crackers, small rolled hors d'oeuvres, and an assortment of cookies and other sweets. She looked at her three companions and said dryly, "Compliments of Mrs. Evans. I think fainting due to low blood sugar on the way down the aisle probably wouldn't be a good idea. It's liable to send the wrong message to Race. Half an hour to sit down, relax, and eat a little something will be time well spent."

"But what about the . . ." Jessie started to protest.

"We still need to . . ." Kefira began at the same time.

"I have to do something about . . ." Estella joined in.

"All of it will wait," Barbara said firmly. "Now SIT!"

All of them sat down reluctantly and began to pick at the food. Estella popped one of the hors d'oeuvres into her mouth. "Oh, that's good," she commented. Then her eyes widened in surprise. "I'm starved!"

Barbara chuckled. "I thought you might be." She waggled a finger at all three of them. "Don't you know you aren't supposed to forget to eat???"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Quest Compound
Enroute to Camden, Maine
St. Margaret's Episcopal Church, Camden, Maine

"Let's go, boys! We're going to be late!" Benton bellowed up the stairs at the Quest Compound.

"We are trying!" Hadji's frustrated voice replied from above. "Jonny, where did you put my jacket?"

"I didn't have your jacket," came his brother's harassed reply.

"I had it in my hand when you came looking for your shirt."

"I haven't seen it. Did you look in your room? Damn!"

"Don't swear!" Benton admonished, but it was more of a reflex than a reprimand. Benton shot a resigned look at Bennett, Wolencheck and Leeds, who stood just inside the family room door observing the chaos. All three of them appeared ready to collapse into fits of laughter. The finely oiled team that had appeared so threatening just a few hours before, suddenly seemed to be falling apart in the face of the upcoming Bannon nuptials.

"Benton, I don't know what I did with the ring!" Race came charging out of the back of the house looking positively panic-stricken.

"I looked in my room! It is not there." Hadji's half-frantic voice said.

"Well, try my room, then!"

"I will never find it in there!"

Finally, it was too much and Admiral Bennett bent double, laughing hysterically. Benton grinned openly at the three men before turning and saying consolingly, "I have the ring, Race. You gave it to me to hold on to, remember? So you wouldn't lose it?" He eyed the younger man critically. "That looks very nice, but I think it might look better with trousers, don't you?" Race looked down past his white shirt, black vest, bow tie and formal jacket to his bare legs and uttered a very profane word before bolting toward the back of the house again.

Leeds was leaning against the wall gasping desperately for air as tears of laughter poured down his face. "This is . . . the second time . . . for him," he gasped. "You would . . . think . . . he'd be . . . better at it . . . this time."

Benton laughed. "The first time didn't count. They didn't have a formal wedding . . . just a civil ceremony in front of a judge. So this is their first try at a formal affair."

"Well, I'll give him credit for going whole hog this time," Leeds said, mopping his face with his handkerchief. "I don't think I would have done it in his position."

"Oh, he wouldn't have either if it had been his choice. No, this is all Jessie's doing and they're humoring her."

Suddenly, Jonny came clamoring down the stairs at break-neck speed. "Dad, I can't get this stupid thing right. Can you do it?"

"Jonny, it is NOT HERE! I must have that jacket!!!"

Isaac Wolenchek stepped forward with a grin. "Why don't you go up and help Mr. Singh find his jacket and I will take care of the tie. Hold still, young man, while I do this."

Jonny stood rigidly as Dr. Wolenchek untied the mess and started over. "Thanks." Jonny said. "I'm not very good with these things."

"They simply take practice," Wolenchek assured him. He surveyed the young man as he tied the tie deftly. The classic black tux and snowy white formal shirt were both beautifully cut and fit him to perfection. "I'm sure you'll improve." He settled the neatly tied bow tie onto the collar of the shirt, straightened the jacket across his shoulders and stepped back to survey the overall result. Jonny self-consciously tugged on the vest, positioning it more comfortably. Wolenchek nodded in approval. "Very nice."

"Yeah," Leeds agreed as he leaned against the door jam, surveying him. "That outfit should score you some points with Ms. Bannon."

Jonny looked at him sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked somewhat stiffly.

Leeds glanced down the hallway and, lowering his voice, said, "Just take a word of advice, boyo . . . you need to be a bit more aware of your surroundings when the two of you get . . . involved. I suspect Race's tolerance will only extend just so far." Jonny flushed a deep crimson and looked down the hallway in concern.

"Surely he doesn't know about . . ." He cut the comment off sharply as he suddenly realized what he was saying, but the widening of Leeds' eyes and the sudden twitching grin was enough to tell Jonny that Leeds had make the leap.

"Very, very aware of your surroundings," Leeds repeated wickedly.

"Hadji, come on," Jonny yelled, turning away from Leeds hastily. "We're gonna be late!"

Race came striding into the entryway just as Benton and Hadji came down the steps. All were now fully dressed. Race stared at Hadji in surprise, taking in his tux and neatly combed ponytail. "Looking sharp, Hadji, but what's with the tux? I figured you'd be wearing your Indian formalwear." "It would not have matched what the rest of you were wearing if I had done so."

"This isn't Jess' doing, is it?" Race asked, frowning. "She had no right to ask you to change for this affair."

"No, Race," Hadji protested swiftly. "Jessie would never do such a thing. In fact, she had assumed that Kefira and I would wear our traditional Indian garb. The decision to wear American formalwear was ours. I wanted to wear the tux and Kefira was extremely anxious to be able to wear the dress that Jessie had picked out for the wedding." He grinned slightly. "I think she is tired of wearing a sari all the time. She commented to me yesterday that she just loves blue jeans."

Before anyone could respond, IRIS interrupted.

"A VEHICLE HAS TURNED OFF OF THE HIGHWAY ONTO THE MAIN ACCESS ROAD TO THIS FACILITY."

"Can you determine the identity of the individual approaching the perimeter?"

"NOT FROM THIS DISTANCE."

"Then we'll wait here until we can," Race said flatly. The six men stood waiting tensely for long minutes. Finally, IRIS announced.

"COMMANDER ETHAN BARCLAY HAS APPROACHED THE MAIN GATE REQUESTING ADMITTANCE TO THIS FACILITY. UNDER CURRENT SECURITY STATUS, HE WILL NOT BE ALLOWED ACCESS. INSTRUCTIONS?"

"Inform him he is to wait there," Benton said. "We will join him at the gate shortly."

"CONFIRMED."

Bennett shot Benton an inscrutable look. Finally, he said, "So we still aren't to be trusted."

Shrugging into his coat, Benton gave the man a hard look. "I trust that you are telling me the truth at this moment, Admiral. But I understand politics well enough to know that that situation could change in the next five minutes. I trust you further than I can see you for the most part . . . but not with the lives of my family. I'll never be able to do that again. Rachel's death taught me that." The silence was uncomfortable as Benton Quest opened the door and left the house. The others followed him and they all climbed into one of the Quest vans. With Hadji at the wheel, they headed for the main gate. As they exited the safety of the Compound, Benton could feel the heightened sense of awareness sharpen in both Race and the government men. Hadji stopped the van near the nondescript white car that was once again sitting under the trees outside the gate. Commander Barclay stood beside the vehicle awaiting them. He crossed to the van as Hadji opened the window.

"The men are all in place. We've got 15 of them deployed in the area around the church. They won't be noticeable but they'll keep a close watch on the area. I've gotten pictures of all of the guests distributed to them, so they know who they can expect to see. The remainder are scoping out the area around the reception site. The men at the church will move after the wedding party leaves for the hotel in Bangor."

Bennett nodded and then looked at Benton Quest. "I think it would be wise if we had the car available, particularly since Leeds will be coordinating activities outside once we reach the reception. If you have no objection, we'll ride with Ethan so we can finalize security." Benton looked to Race who contemplated the arrangement for a minute. Then he gave a barely perceptible nod.

Benton turned back to Bennett and said, "All right, Admiral. Commander Barclay, I assume you've been to the church?" The man nodded. "Good, then why don't you go on ahead of us and we'll follow."

Bennett and Leeds climbed out of the van, but Wolenchek remained where he was. "Doctor?" Bennett said, holding open the door, but Wolenchek refused to move.

"Thank you, but I believe I'll ride with the Quests if they have no objection."

Race and Benton exchanged a surprised look, but Benton said, "Not at all."

"Thank you," Wolenchek replied. And to Bennett, he added, "I'll see you there, Admiral."

Reluctantly, Bennett shut the door and before long the two vehicles emerged out onto Route 1 and headed north.

"Where are we going, Benton?" Wolenchek asked after a few moments.

"To St. Margaret's Episcopal Church in Camden. It's not far from here, seven or eight miles, maybe. It's a lovely church . . . small and just perfect for this affair. Jessie was lucky to be able to secure its use."

"It's also perfect in terms of security, although Jess had no idea that would be necessary when she chose it." Race added. "It's a classic A-frame, so there are a limited number of windows in the sides, and the ones that are there are all stained glass so you can't see into them. The head of the sanctuary and the altar are on one end, so there's no windows there at all, and the other end has a huge window, but again, it's all stained glass. The only clear glass in the building are the front doors, and they're at the far end, opposite the altar, so the only thing you can get a distance angle on for a gunshot of any kind is at the opposite wall. And the entire entrance side of the building has an elevated porch with an open wooden railing so there's no chance of approaching the doors without being seen."

Wolenchek sighed and shook his head. "I am so sorry about this, Mr. Bannon. Angles of trajectory for sniper shots should have to be the least of your worries on your wedding day.

Race shrugged his shoulder. "Hazards of the job. After last night, I consider myself lucky that Estella's still willing to marry me." His lips twisted in a grimace. "Estella's mother proved right again, I guess."

Benton looked at the younger man in concern. "I know you said Estella's mother wasn't invited to the wedding, and at the last minute her sister backed out. Is there a problem there?"

Race's chuckle was bitter as he replied, "Oh, there's always been a problem there. Emilia Antonia Higuerra Velasquez has hated me from the day she heard I existed. Nothing I did was ever good enough. We were at the Velasquez estancia one Christmas and the old lady got wound up and ended up telling Estella that if she stayed with me I would end up getting her killed. She was damned near right."

"That's not fair, Race," Jonny protested. "You were ambushed. Grandmother Velasquez should be grateful that you got Estella out alive."

"No, Jonny, it's more than fair," Race said flatly. "I was sloppy last night . . . seriously so . . . and it almost cost us dearly. Leeds had told me we were in danger. I even believed him . . . which is rare for me when it comes to Leeds. But Stel and I had been arguing and I was upset with her. I wasn't paying attention. It should have registered immediately that the hangar lights hadn't come on when the door opened. But I drove straight into the setup without a single alarm going off in my head. I sat there in the dark, swearing, while I tried to find the keys to the light box and then left Estella in the car like a sitting duck without it even occurring to me that we could be in trouble. By rights, we should both be dead. We would be, too, if Estella hadn't seen the movement and yelled at me."

"There's no point in beating yourself up over this, Race," Benton said quietly. "You both got out alive and unharmed. That's what's important. Just let it go."

"Here we are," Hadji announced, pulling up in front of the church. "If you want to get out, I will move the van. There isn't much parking around here and we should probably leave it for our guests."

Race shook his head. "No, I want you to leave the van right here in front of the church and in full view of Bennett's men. That way we ensure it's not tampered with. Also, I don't want Benton crossing any more open ground than necessary."

"They aren't going to shoot me, Race," Benton said firmly as he climbed out of the vehicle. "That gains them nothing."

"I don't care. This entire enterprise is crazy under the circumstances and I don't want to leave anything to chance."

Bennett and the others walked back to join them as the last of them exited the vehicle. Race led the way across the lawn and up the six steps to the door of the church. Warmth and the scent of pine greeted them as they opened the door and stepped inside. The interior of the church was small and done all in wood. Though showing signs of wear, it was lovingly cared for and everything shone with a deep rich sheen. There were twelve pews to each side of a center aisle that led to the front of the sanctuary. A deep red runner was laid out along the aisle and it led up to the communion rail, which separated the seating area from the rest of the sanctuary. A single pulpit stood to the left behind the rail, with a small, raised choir loft opposite it. The altar was centered between the two and a large, simple cross hung on the wall above it. Centered on the altar was a huge floral arrangement composed of red and white poinsettias and pine boughs. A smaller version sat on top of the piano, which stood down in front of the communion rail just below the pulpit. Matching smaller arrangements festooned the ends of each of the pews along the center aisle.

"This is lovely," Wolenchek murmured, looking around in admiration.

Race led the group up to the front of the church and through a door opposite the piano. Here they found themselves in a changing room. "The choir room," Race commented as everyone began taking off coats.

"Race . . ." They all turned to see a smiling, middle aged man with graying brown hair entering behind them. Race greeted the man with a smile and outstretched hand.

"Father Michael! Thank you so much for being willing to work us in today. I know you have services later tonight. We really do appreciate it."

"It's the least I can do." He held out a large white box. "Your daughter asked that I give you this."

"They're all doing okay?" Race responded, taking the box from him and glancing inside. More flowers. He passed the box to Jonny who opened it and began passing out boutonnieres.

Father Michael laughed. "Oh, yes, they're doing just fine. Dr. Mason arrived about an hour ago and things are progressing nicely. Your guests should start arriving in the next fifteen minutes or so, and then we should be ready to get started." The man grinned at Race impishly. "Just enough time for you to get well and truly nervous."

"Oh, thanks. That's a big help!" Race groaned, and everyone laughed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"There, is that better?" Barbara asked Estella as the two of them gazed at Estella's reflection in the mirror.

"Much! I know Jessie tried, but I looked like a street walker."

Barbara chuckled and tilted Estella's head up so she could look at her cheek critically. "She just doesn't have the practice with make up that I've had. That looks pretty good . . . the bruise isn't going to be visible unless you know it's there and you look hard for it."

"Thank God! It would be the crowning insult if I went to the altar looking like Race had been beating me."

"As if he ever would!" Jessie commented hotly from behind them as she stopped in the open door to the dressing room. In the outer room, they could all hear Kefira muttering to herself.

Estella smiled at her daughter warmly. "Of course he wouldn't! But we don't want anyone else speculating on that, do we?"

"Jessie, I can not get this zipper . . ." Kefira complained, and Jessie disappeared from the doorway.

Barbara smiled. "No one around here would even think of it, you know. Everyone knows him too well for that."

"Do they really?" Estella asked in surprise, looking at the other woman in the mirror. "I mean, Race never used to be big on neighbors and things like that . . ."

"He is part of this community," Barbara answered, turning to pick up her medical bag. "Let's take a look at that arm. We should be in a position to get rid of the larger bandage and go to something smaller that won't be visible through the lace on the sleeves of your gown." She worked quietly for a moment and then gave Estella a quick glance. "You seem somewhat off balance, Estella . . . like sometimes you aren't sure you know him."

Estella stared down at the long, shallow cut on her arm blindly. Finally, without raising her head, she replied, "Sometimes, I don't think I do." She looked up at the other woman. "I mean, I used to know him. Even with all the secrets he kept, I think I knew him well enough. But he's changed so much. And every once in a while, I realize how different he really is, and I feel . . . I-I don't know . . . sort of . . . "

"Like you were left behind?" Barbara suggested softly.

"Yes," Estella agreed. "Exactly. Just like I was left behind. And . . . and I wonder if I'll ever be able to catch up . . . if I'll ever be able to totally forget the past. He . . . he told me something last night . . . something about his work. He never used to talk about his work . . . would get angry if I even asked. But I asked and he answered me, and . . . and I . . . I assumed that he had . . . " She turned away, suddenly extremely distressed. "I know him better than that!" she exclaimed to herself. "To have even begun to think that he could have done something like that . . . and to have asked him point blank . . . " Estella turned haunted eyes back to the older woman. "I hurt him so deeply doing that . . ."

Barbara finished with Estella's arm and said, "There. That's better. It will never show." Then she smiled at her gently, closing her medical bag. "Race Bannon is a very understanding man, Estella. He will never hold something like that against you. If you know him so well, then you know that. I don't know much about his past . . . no one does . . . about any of the Quests. They don't say much and we don't ask. But it doesn't matter. We know all we need to know. Whatever Race Bannon has done in the past . . . whatever dark things you know of him from that time . . . are over and done. You say that you knew he couldn't have done whatever it was you asked him about. That's the good man that we've come to know showing through . . . the man that's here today. He's the man you're marrying. Is anything else really important?"

Slowly, a smile formed on Estella's face. "No. No, you're right. What happened in the past doesn't matter. I love him and that's enough."

Jessie and Kefira appeared in the doorway. Both young women were dressed "Dad and the others just arrived," Jessie announced. "The guests will start showing up soon, too. We need to start getting you into your dress."

With a grateful smile for Barbara Mason, Estella rose and moved into the other room. "Okay, here we go," she said with a deep breath. Jessie reached up and pulled the plastic cover from the dress that hung on the nearby wall and both Kefira and Barbara gasped. Jessie reached up and carefully removed it from the hanger and carried it to her mother. With the help of the other three, Estella donned the dress. As Jessie and Kefira finished fastening the buttons down the back, she moved to stand and gaze at her reflection in the nearby mirror.

"Oh, you are absolutely beautiful," Kefira breathed in awe.

"It is a gorgeous dress and you look wonderful in it," Barbara agreed.

Estella turned suddenly and pulled her daughter to her in a tight hug. "Thank you, Jessica," she said in a choked voice. "It's all just magnificent and I never could have done it without you."

"Don't you dare cry," Jessie sniffed, leaning back to look at her mother in mock sternness, her eyes suspiciously bright. "You'll mess up your makeup." All four of them were laughing when a knock sounded on the door. When Barbara opened it, they could all hear music and Father Michael stood there smiling.

"If you ladies are all prepared, I believe we are ready to begin . . ."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Benton watched Race Bannon pace. Four steps across . . . stop . . . turn . . . four steps back . . . stop . . . turn . . .

"You're going to wear out the floor," Benton commented in amusement.

"This waiting is driving me crazy!"

"You're supposed to be good at waiting," Jonny observed with a grin as he leaned against the wall nearby. "You're the one who always told me that more than half of the time you spent in the spy business was spent waiting."

"Yeah, but this is different!" Race growled.

"Well, it is over now," Hadji said, coming back into the room. "Father Michael says that all of the guests are here and Estella is ready, so we are to go and line up out front."

Race stopped and took a deep breath in an effort to calm his jittery nerves. Benton did a quick look at all three of them, straightened Jonny's tie and then gestured at the door. "Then let's do it!"

The four men filed out and took their places at the front of the church. As Benton stood there, he gazed out on the crowd. These people were some of their closest friends. Down near the front was Doug Sanderson and his little girl, Michaela. Next to them sat Mrs. Evans with her brother and his wife. Matt sat there, as well, but Benton noted sadly that there was no sign of Bobby. Across the aisle from the Evans was Donald Henson, the judge that had played such a large part in the business with Brandon Simmons. A lump formed in Benton's throat when he saw who was sitting with Henson . . . Doug Wildey . . . Rachel's father. He forced himself to smile at the man, and Doug nodded at him. He and Doug got along well enough, but Benton had always found it difficult to face him. His proximity always brought the memories of Rachel back so strongly.

A bit further back, Benton spotted Brandon, his father and stepmother, all of who had flown in from Denver just for the occasion. There was also Naomi Smythe and her twins, Jason and Natasha, and the Washingtons with their son, Todd. There were a number of other people as well, mainly members of the emergency search and rescue teams that Race headed up in the area. And at the very back of the church, he spotted Bennett, Barclay, Leeds and Wolenchek. In the short time since they had separated, Bennett, Barclay and Leeds had all managed to find and change into dress uniforms. The dress whites stood out starkly in the small church.

Benton caught movement at the door that led down to the basement just as the music that Becca Harris had been playing shifted and the familiar strains of the wedding march began. As one, the crowd turned to watch the entrance of the last of the players for this event.

To his left he heard Hadji's breath catch as Kefira appeared at the far end of the aisle. She paused momentarily before she began the long walk toward them. She moved with stately grace, her back straight and her head high. The dress she wore was of deep green satin. From the narrow shoulder straps and soft V-ed neckline, it fell in clinging straight lines all the way to the floor. A short lace jacket of the same green clung to her shoulders and arms. As she reached the head of the aisle and turned to take her place to Race's right, Benton saw that the dress flared in the back at her knees, explaining how she moved so easily. A small smile played at the corners of her mouth and Benton could hear Hadji's breath explode out of him as he watched her. Jessie came next, having chosen to relinquish the role of maid of honor to Barbara Mason. Benton shot a quick glance at his youngest son. The boy looked absolutely stunned and Benton hoped he wouldn't keel over on the spot. Barbara Mason followed Jessie up the aisle and Benton was struck by her elegant beauty. Her wit, intelligence and caring nature tended to overshadow everything else, and it was with considerable surprise that Benton realized that the woman was also lovely in her own right.

The music changed again, and suddenly Estella stood at the far end of the aisle. The entire church must have heard Race gasp, and looking at the elegant woman standing at the far end of the aisle, Benton could understand how he felt.

Estella was stunning. Her dress was of ivory satin cut in a straight, sheath style. The bottom third of the skirt was weighted with lace and beads in a complicated pattern that continued all the way down to within an inch of the floor, ending in a scalloped edge. The neckline was cut back in a soft, squared-off V that sat wide on her shoulders leaving her chest and upper back bare. From the neckline down to her hips, the dress clung to her body and covered her in beaded lace that tapered down in a sharp V that lay flat across her stomach. It had fitted sleeves of matching beaded lace that reached down her arms and ended in a V across the back of her hands. A cathedral-style train trailed on the floor behind her, the pattern of lace and beads around its edge mirroring that on the dress. She wore a tiara-style headpiece covered with matching lace and a hip-length veil fell from it down her back and across her face. A strand of pearls encircled her neck and the matching earrings were dimly visible through the cloud of her veil.

Estella paused at the back of the church before she began slowly making her way up the aisle toward them. Benton stole a quick glance at Race. He was staring at the woman moving toward him, and Benton could tell he wasn't even breathing. Finally, Benton jabbed him with an elbow, and whispered softly, "Breathe, for God's sake, or you're going to pass out!" Race took a shaky breath and stepped forward to offer her his arm. She took it and the two of them turned toward the priest standing at the front of the sanctuary. As they all turned to face front, Benton hoped fervently that Race wouldn't forget his lines.

Father Michael smiled easily at the nervous couple and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Doesn't get any easier the second time around, does it?" Race and Estella looked at each other, and chuckled softly as their tension slowly drained away. The priest winked at them, then stood up a little straighter and addressed the audience, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the presence of God to witness the marriage of these two people, Roger and Estella . . ."

Over the next 40 minutes, the simple Christian ceremony played out. Each member of the family contributed: Jonny and Jessie recited Shakespeare's 116th Sonnet, Hadji and Kefira performed a traditional Hindi wedding blessing, and even Benton had been persuaded to read a brief passage from the bible about the nature of love. At last, Father Michael looked out at the crowd and said, "And now the bride and groom have some words of their own that they wish to add to this sacred ceremony." He looked at the couple before him and said, "Roger?"

The two of them turned and faced each other and Race caught Estella's hands in his. He cleared his throat and began slowly, "Estella, I have known you for a long time, through both good times and bad. From the first instant I saw you, I knew that I would be bound to you for the rest of my life. Since that day, I've lived through times when you weren't at my side and I've come to understand what a bleak existence that is. So today, I give you this vow. Never again will I let anything come between us. You are what makes my life worth living and I will never willingly be without you again."

The silence was absolute. Finally, Estella replied, "Second chances are rare in this life, and, as I stand here today, I realize how truly blessed I am to be given a second chance to build a life with you. I have learned that there is a great difference between living and existing, and I know now that to be able to live requires you at my side. So today, I return your vow. From this day forward, I will never let anything come between us, and I will never willingly be without you ever again."

Both of them turned back to Father Michael, who cleared his throat and asked the crowd, "If there is anyone here who can show reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace." The church was absolutely still. Nodding, the priest looked at Barbara and Benton. "Do you have the rings?" They silently placed the objects into the priest's outstretched hand. "Bless, O Lord, these rings, as they are an everlasting sign of faithfulness and devotion." He turned to Race and Estella, "As these rings are a circle with no ending and no beginning, so shall be the eternal nature of your love." He handed the first ring to Race, who took it and gently placed it upon the ring finger of Estella's left hand, saying, "With this ring, I thee wed." The priest handed the second ring to Estella who repeated the action, "With this ring, I thee wed." As they clasped hands, Father Michael smiled broadly and said, "By the power invested in me, it is my distinct pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife." He winked at them again, "Go on...I know you've been waiting all day for this part!" Race chortled, then pulled Estella to him, and they kissed deeply until Jonny's hearty "Woo hoo!" broke the moment. The couple turned back toward the crowd as Father Michael said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you at this time Roger and Estella Bannon. May they live together in peace and happiness for the rest of their days."

The guests surged forward, offering congratulations, as all pretense of an exit down the aisle was forgotten. Race held Estella close and both of them laughed as well-wishers pummeled them from all sides. Nearby, Jonny, Jessie, Hadji and Kefira stood away from the crowd and watched. Jonny put an arm around Jessie as he pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her so she could wipe away her tears. "Congratulations, Jess. I know how much you wanted this."

She looked up at him and said, "Yes, I really did . . . but only if it was what they wanted. And I think that, up until this very minute, I wasn't absolutely sure they did. But they are . . ." She looked back at her parents and Jonny saw fresh tears start.

"They are happy," Hadji said quietly, putting his arm around Kefira in an unconscious imitation of Jonny. "I do not believe there is any question that this is what they wanted."

Jessie looked up at Jonny and asked hesitantly, "Are you okay with this? You told me once that you wished they had never gotten back together . . ."

Jonny smiled at her, regret showing, "Jess, when I told you that, I was miserably unhappy and was aching for things to be the way they used to be. Life seemed so easy then. It never had anything to do with Race and Estella and not wanting them to be happy. It had to do with me . . . and you . . . and thinking I would never see you again." He looked again at the couple and said, "I couldn't be happier for them."

Jessie laid her hand on his chest and looked up at him, saying softly, "Thank you. I love you so much." By way of an answer, Jonny bent down and kissed her.

"Hey! Jonny!" Race's voice called. Jonny looked up at him questioningly. "Public displays of affection are my prerogative today! Cut it out!"

Everyone laughed and Jonny saluted sharply, saying "Yes, sir!"

Laughing, Benton called out to the crowd, "Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner is waiting for us in Bangor. What do you say we head in that direction?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phenix Inn
Bangor, Maine

The noise level in the lobby of the Phenix Inn was phenomenal. Crowds of people moved in and out of the lobby and everyone was in a joyous mood. Huge sprays of red and white flowers decorated the main check-in desk and a large sign hung in the front window saying "BANNON RECEPTION". All of the lobby furniture had either been removed or shoved against the wall to accommodate the guests. Many of them spilled out into the hotel corridors, however none of the hotel guests complained. A small band was set up in a corner by the front windows, and their music overlaid all of the chatter. Estella, now devoid of her train, stood with Race. They talked animatedly with everyone and appeared to be in no hurry to leave.

On the outer edge of the revelry, Bennett, Barclay and Wolenchek stood, watching the crowd warily. Finally, Barclay said in a low tone, "This is going to be a mass slaughter if anyone tries anything tonight. I had no idea there was going to be this kind of a crowd."

Bennett shook his head. "Neither did I. Bannon was never one to make friends easily and I figured that when they said it was to be a small wedding with an open reception later that they meant maybe 50 people for a couple of hours. There have to have been at least twice that many!"

"Try over 200," Wolenchek commented dryly. "I just wandered over and took a quick look at the guest book. And new people are still showing up. I think the entire population of a three county area must have turned out for this thing."

"How's Leeds holding up outside?" Bennett asked.

"Well enough," Barclay said. "We're lucky it's not bitterly cold. He says there've been a lot of people out on the street, most all of them coming here, but there hasn't been any sign of trouble. The men covering the exterior are staying well concealed and no one seems to have noticed their presence."

Bennett sighed softly. "I pray this thing finishes off without problems. We're on seriously tenuous ground with Benton Quest right now, and if anything goes wrong with this wedding, our tails are going to be in a sling." He checked his watch. "It's almost 10:30. Surely it will wrap up soon."

"It certainly shows no signs of breaking up." Wolencheck remarked. "I believe there are more people here now than there were half an hour ago."

"Where is Dr. Quest, anyway?" Barclay said, sounding a bit worried. "I haven't seen him in a while."

Bennett rose up on tiptoe and peered across the room toward a corner on the far side of the registration desk. He grunted softly in satisfaction and relaxed again. "Over on the far side of the desk in a corner. I don't know if he's being wary or if he's just tired, but he's been sitting there for quite a while now."

"Maybe someone should check on him," Wolenchek ventured, frowning in concern.

Barclay spotted a dark-haired woman in a green dress crossing toward the scientist. "I think someone else just had the same idea," Barclay said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Benton Quest sat quietly in a chair on the far side of the lobby, somewhat screened by a large plant and watched his family and the various guests mingling. He was feeling depressed. He wasn't sure why . . . maybe it was the letdown after all the stresses of the day, or maybe he was just tired. He never did have the chance to get any sleep. As he watched, Race put an arm around Estella and pulled her close as they both laughed at something Doug Sanderson had said. When Benton turned his eyes from that scene, they fell on Jonny and Jessie. The lack of a dance floor did not appear to be a deterrent to those two, because they were nestled tightly in each other's arms not far from the band, swaying slowly to the soft music. He turned from that scene as well, only to be met with the sight of Hadji and Kefira. Kefira's hand was tucked snugly in the crook of Hadji's arm as he introduced her to each new arrival, having accepted with resigned grace the fact that everyone knew about his betrothal. Benton finally sighed and gave up, shifting his gaze to his lap. Where had the time gone? And how had he gotten left so far behind?

"Penny for your thoughts?" a quiet, warm voice said. He looked up and found Barbara Mason standing beside his chair. She smiled and said, "You appear to be hiding behind a potted plant."

Benton forced a chuckle. "Not really. It was the only chair open at the time."

She looked around and then snagged another chair and pulled it up. "May I join you? I could stand to sit down. My feet are killing me."

Benton glanced at the dark green shoes the woman wore and replied dryly, "By all means. Did Jessie pick out those shoes?"

Barbara settled into the chair with a heartfelt sigh and stuck her feet out in front of her to stare at the pointed toes, three inch heels, and ankle straps. "You really don't think I would have bought these for myself, do you? I'm too old for shoes like this!"

This time, Benton's laughter was more spontaneous. "You're only as old as you feel," he replied.

"Then I must be 250!" She slipped one shoe off and massaged her foot gingerly. "No, to be fair, they are beautiful and as this kind of shoes go, they aren't that bad. I'm just not accustomed to wearing anything like that any more. Not much occasion to do it up here." She shot him a quick look and said, "What's bothering you, Benton? You've been quiet and reserved all evening. It's not like you."

"I'm just tired, that's all," he said.

Barbara sat gazing out at the milling people with a smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. After a moment, she looked back at him and said matter-of-factly, "You really shouldn't try to lie to your doctor, you know."

"What do you . . . oh, never mind," he grunted. "There's no point in hedging, is there? You won't let it go."

"No, I won't."

"I'd just really rather not talk about it," Benton replied stiffly. He sat, stubbornly silent, staring out across the room and refusing to look at her. After a time, Barbara shifted in her chair and when Benton shot her a quick glance, she had turned and was looking directly at him with her "diagnosing" look.

"Let me take a wild guess here," she said quietly, "and then you can correct me if I'm wrong. Something's not right, but you can't put your finger on what it is. You feel lousy . . . maybe even to the point of feeling physically ill at times . . . things like lethargy, headache, maybe even nausea. You wonder if you're trying to get sick, but the symptoms are so elusive that you can't put your finger on them closely enough to describe them to me without feeling stupid. You're tired all the time, and it's even a struggle to do the things you've always enjoyed . . . like your work. Also, your emotions are in turmoil, and you're finding yourself resenting things that you know you should be happy about." She nodded her head at the crowd of people in the room. "Like Race and Estella, or Hadji and his new fiancée. And that makes you feel petty, because you know you should be happy for them." Then her eyes fell on Jonny and Jessie across the room, still locked together, dancing slowly. "And no matter how much you love her, Jessie's relationship with Jonny seems to be eating a hole in your gut, making you feel like someone's stuck a knife in you and is twisting it slowly." Benton was staring at her with a stunned expression on his face, as though not wholly believing what he was hearing. "And so you keep silent and go along feeling lousy . . . putting up a façade for those around you . . . and yet, feeling slightly betrayed because no one seems to notice that there is something wrong." She cocked one eyebrow at him. "Does that just about cover it?"

Benton swallowed with difficulty. "Yes. Yes, I think it does." He stared down at the plant blindly. "I look at my sons and I wonder when they grew up. I-I never saw it happening. Just, one day, I looked across the breakfast table and . . . and there was Hadji . . . and he was a Sultan . . . the leader of his own country! And Jonny . . . my little boy . . . my lifeline . . . sitting there telling me that he's so much in love that he feels like he wants to die when she isn't with him. And . . . and . . ." He put a hand to his head, as though it has begun to ache, and Barbara saw it was shaking slightly.

She reached down quickly and began refastening the strap on her shoe. "Come on. Let's take a walk. I could use a little fresh air." Standing, she urged Benton to his feet. Tucking one hand in the crook of his elbow, she guided him toward the front door, where she retrieved their coats. Donning them, they stepped out into the brisk night air.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"What plots are you gentlemen hatching over here?" a familiar voice asked.

Bennett, Barclay and Wolenchek turned to find Race eyeing them with good-natured suspicion. He began to grin as all three men assumed matching innocent expressions.

"Not a thing," Bennett assured him.

"Uh huh, like I'll ever believe that one."

"This has been quite an event," Bennett said to him.

Race looked around the room with a slightly surprised expression on his face. "Yeah, it has. I can't say I expected quite this many people to show up. It's been nice though. They've really made Estella feel welcome."

"I haven't had the chance to congratulate you," Bennett said. "I'm glad to see the two of you so happy. You know I wish you nothing but the best."

Race eyed Bennett for a moment before replying, "Thank you. And if I've never said it, Admiral, I want to do it now. I owe you a great deal for picking up the pieces after everything fell apart the first time. It really wasn't your mess to clean up and I appreciate that you took the trouble."

Bennett just shrugged and said, "I'm glad I could help." Then he nodded toward the corner. "Who is the woman with Dr. Quest . . . the one who acted as your wife's maid of honor today?"

Race followed Bennett's gaze and spotted Benton and his companion. "Barbara Mason. She's the local doctor in Rockport and has been the family's physician pretty much since the time we moved here."

They all watched as Benton and Barbara rose from their seats and moved across the room toward the front door. Both of them picked up coats and stepped outside. Bennett stiffened in immediate concern. "That's not a good idea . . ."

"Let it go, Admiral," Race admonished softly. "There's plenty of manpower outside to keep an eye on him, and Barbara Mason isn't going to do him any harm."

With a terse, "I'm going to check outside," Barclay took off for the front door like a scalded cat.

Race just shook his head. "Benton's going to be really upset if he makes a nuisance of himself," he warned.

"Better upset than kidnapped or dead," was Bennett's reply. Then he asked curiously, "Is something going on between Dr. Quest and Dr. Mason?"

Race shook his head ruefully. "Don't I wish. No, unfortunately, there isn't. They're just good friends. Oh, I don't think Barbara would object. If I'm any judge, she's interested, but Benton is totally clueless. I doubt he'll ever reach that point. Rachel's ghost has too firm of a grip on him."

Bennett frowned. "Has he ever seen anyone about it . . . a professional, I mean. It doesn't strike me as healthy for him to still be that fixated after all these years."

"Not to my knowledge, and I suspect he never will. In his mind, to try and find a total release from the grief of Rachel's death, would be to lose her completely, and he can't bring himself to do that." Race stared down quietly at the floor for a long time and then he looked back up at Bennett. "You heard what happened last month, didn't you?"

"About Jonny? Yes, I heard. It was in all the newspapers. That must have been hard."

"You can't imagine," Race said, suddenly sounding tired. "It was like Rachel all over again. The worst thing about it was that no one was with him when it happened. Estella, Jessie, and I were in Colombia, and Hadji was in Bangalore. Even Mrs. Evans was out of the house. I thank God for Doug Sanderson and Donald Henson, both of whom had the sense to know that they shouldn't leave him alone."

"What do you mean?" Bennett asked sharply.

Race looked at him in surprise. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"That for the first two years I was in the Quest household, I had him on 24-hour suicide watch. There was a very real possibility that he was depressed enough to take his own life."

Bennett and Wolenchek both looked shocked. "I never knew it was that bad," Bennett said softly.

"Oh, yeah, it was that bad." Race stood, staring at the floor sightlessly as the memories of those days came flooding back. "In the beginning, he was like the living dead. He had no will to continue at all. Jonny was a mess . . . convinced it was his fault that his mother died. And Benton," he sighed and shook his head. "Benton's behavior toward the boy only reinforced it. He could hardly stand to even be in the same room with him."

"Surely he didn't blame the child!" Wolenchek exclaimed.

"God, no . . . that wasn't it! It was because Jonny looks so much like her . . . every time he looked at the boy he went to pieces. Then Jonny would fall apart again, which would trigger Benton into a guilt cycle, and . . ." Race smiled grimly at Bennett. "Your babysitting job was a lot tougher than you figured it was going to be, let me tell you."

Race paused, lost in the pain of those memories. Finally, he continued quietly, "And then, suddenly, he seemed to get better. Initially, you could see him forcing himself to spend time with Jonny, but the more he did it, the easier it became. In time, he forged an incredibly strong bond with his son, and the two of them became closer than I ever would have thought possible. He also started to work again and we began to travel. It was during that time that we discovered Hadji in Calcutta and Benton adopted the boy." Race stopped again, staring down at the floor, then shook his head.

"I should have recognized the signs, but I had convinced myself that the worst was over. Oh, most of the time, he seemed happy. He was working steadily and he loved Jonny and Hadji. It was all high adventure and excitement and fun. But whenever we returned to Palm Key, he would turn really quiet . . . too quiet . . . and we would never stay very long. A week . . . two at the most . . . and then we'd suddenly have a new research project and we'd be off again. He never really rested between jobs." Race fell silent again, staring blindly out across the crowd.

After a while, Bennett prompted softly, "Things weren't right, though?"

Race stirred uneasily and finally sighed. "No, they weren't. We continued like that for almost a year. But then, despite all of our precautions, Jonny got sick. He was extremely ill and we were forced back to Palm Key for an extended stay."

"His life wasn't threatened, was it?" Bennett asked in concern. "To face the possibility of losing his son so soon after Rachel's death . . ."

Race shook his head. "No, we knew within the first few days . . . long before we ever returned to Palm Key . . . that he would survive. But the recovery time was slow and Jonny needed a stable location to do it in. Traveling was out. And the longer we were there, the more silent Benton became. He stopped working again and, before long, he wasn't spending time with either of the two boys. It was like the entire cycle was starting over. One day, he simply disappeared. He hadn't been out of the house in close to a month, and suddenly, I couldn't locate him anywhere. I just about panicked. I finally found him outside, lying on the ground right were she died. He was curled up in a fetal position and crying like a child. I knew then that we couldn't stay in Palm Key. The memories in that place were simply too much for him."

Race scrubbed his face with his hands, as though trying to wipe out the past. "I called a real estate broker that I knew, and told her to find me a new place . . .something as different from Palm Key as she could. I went with the first place she found . . . the house here in Maine . . . and two weeks after the incident on the grounds, I forced him to move. All I took were clothes and personal items. The rest of it I just left . . . locked the place down and walked away from it."

"Has he ever gone back?" Bennett asked quietly.

"A few times . . . mainly to get equipment or specific items that he can't replace, but it's still hard for him. I've tried to get him to sell the property several times, but he won't even entertain the idea. He just can't let go."

"So what happened after the move to Maine?" Bennett prodded when it finally appeared Race might not continue.

He sighed again and leaned against the wall. "It took me weeks to get the lab and security in place because he just had no heart for anything. And I watched him continuously, not entirely sure what his mood was. Initially, I'd been worried that the high cliff above the boathouse might be too much of a temptation . . . an easy way out. But he had improved that much, at least. Away from the atmosphere at Palm Key, his bond with Jonny kicked in again and it prevented him from turning actively suicidal. We'd been there for about a month when he came downstairs one morning with an almost frantic need to work. In a frenzy, he got the lab set up again and then he shut himself away for days at a time, working on a project he refused to talk about."

"What was it?" Wolenchek asked curiously, but Race just shook his head and shrugged.

"Did he ever finish it?" the scientist insisted.

"As far as I know, he did, but I don't think the end product was the point. It was the process. It was through that project that he finally worked through the majority of his grief and came to terms with Rachel's death. He's improved slowly, but steadily ever since. I think, in his own way, he's found peace, but I doubt he'll ever be totally whole again. He's rebuilt his life around his two sons. Jonny and Hadji really were what gave him back the will to live. I suspect it's going to be hard for him over the next couple of years . . . watching them hit adulthood and strike out on their own." Race looked toward the door where Benton and Barbara had disappeared. "I'd like to think that he could continue to rebuild with Barbara, but I just get the feeling it's more than he'll ever be able to do."

Bennett and Wolenchek exchanged looks that were full of pity. "He hides it well," Bennett said.

"Most of the time," Race agreed. "It's only when something strikes just the right resonance . . . the way you did this morning . . . that it really surfaces."

"Do you think he could still be . . . a-a . . . danger to himself?" Bennett asked hesitantly.

Race shook his head. "Initially, when we first thought Jonny had died, I was really afraid that he might be, but now I don't think so. He's recovered that far. The concern that Doug and Don showed for him . . . the dedication that Mrs. Evans exhibited . . . the way all the townspeople rallied around him . . . none of that escaped him. Hadji even refers to him as 'Father' now . . . something he never used to do. He's developed roots . . . other things and people he cares about that would anchor him here. No, he's past suicide, I think. Now, he just grieves."

"And Jonny? How has he adjusted?" Wolenchek asked.

Race thought about that question for a long time. "Jonny is amazing. He's proven to be more resilient than I ever thought any child could be. He suffered through all of Benton's good times and bad, and always bounced back. Hadji was a savior for him, I think. Those two boys truly are brothers under the skin. So different and yet so much alike." Race shook his head. "But there are times when I see his father in Jonny so strongly it's terrifying. He survived his mother's loss and made peace with it, but when we almost lost Jess two years ago, I watched him descend into exactly the same hell his father was in when Rachel died. Nothing any of us did could stop it." He glanced at the two men and the look he gave them was disturbing. "Even now, I'm not sure he's totally climbed back out of it."

Suddenly, the music that had been so quiet and sedate just moments before was replaced by a bright techno pop sound with a strong beat. Race saw the band members rising to take a break and assumed they must have put on a tape. Suddenly, laughing guests began clearing space in the center of the room. As the crowd parted in front of them, the three men spotted Jonny and Jessie. Jonny had shed his suit jacket and vest and Jessie had kicked off her shoes and both of them were dancing to the bright, driving rhythm. Several other teenagers rapidly joined them. Race saw Jonny look up and call out, "Come on, Hadji! You've done this often enough. If Kefira doesn't know how, then teach her!" They saw Kefira excitedly reach down to gather up her skirts and kick off her shoes. Hadji just laughed and began shedding his coat and vest. Race searched the crowd and spotted Estella standing not far away. Shaking his head as if to throw off the last shreds of gloom, Race grinned and said, "If you gentlemen will excuse me?" and then crossed to take Estella's hand and drag her out onto the improvised dance floor.

The two government men remained on the edge of the crowd watching the dancers. After a while, Wolenchek glanced over at Bennett and noticed that his gaze was no longer directed toward the center of the room. Following the direction of his look, through the large picture window, he spotted Benton Quest and Barbara Mason walking past the window. Wolenchek watched the pair for a while and then, suddenly he said, "Admiral, will you tell me something?"

Bennett looked over at the man in surprise. "Certainly, Doctor, if I can."

"Whatever happened to the young man who killed Rachel Quest?"

Bennett stared at him for a long moment and then countered with a question of his own. "How did you know Mrs. Quest, Doctor?"

For a time, Bennett thought the man might not answer him. Finally, Wolenchek replied, "We were graduate students together. I was in my second year of doctoral work when Rachel began work on her Master's. We shared an advisor and were both assigned to work together on a project. It was actually part of my doctoral research and I was her supervisor on the project."

"And you fell in love with her," Bennett said softly.

Wolenchek turned to stare at Jonny with a sad look on his face. "Yes," he admitted reluctantly. Then his mouth twisted into a sad smile. "Rachel was easy to love."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"No, there was no way I could. I was her supervisor. The situation was totally impossible. She had no steady boyfriend . . . only seemed interested in her work . . . so I determined to finish out the year and speak to her about it when the research work was finished. Unfortunately, before we reached that point, I received a fellowship to study abroad for a year. It was an outstanding opportunity and I took it. While I was gone, Benton Quest came as part of a research grant and the two of them met." Wolenchek shrugged. "She fell hard for Benton and I guess the feeling was mutual. By the time I returned, it was way past too late. They were married the following spring."

"Does Dr. Quest know?"

"How would he? I never confessed my feelings to Rachel, so she couldn't have told him. And I certainly never did. But you didn't answer my question, Admiral. What happened to the boy that killed her?"

Bennett sighed. "He stayed in the military, but he requested and was shifted to supply. For a long time, he seemed all right. He was a drinker, but only off duty, and no more so than most any other soldier. At least, so we thought. No one realized the extent of his drinking problem until it was too late. About five years after the incident at Palm Key, he didn't report to his post one day. The MPs went looking for him, and found him in his apartment on base. A combination of the guilt and all the alcohol had eaten a hole in his gut and he'd bled to death of a perforated ulcer in the middle of the night." Bennett shook his head. "He must have been in agony . . . dying by inches . . . but he didn't call for help. We found a note on a table near his body. It said, 'May God forgive me . . . I never meant to kill her.'" Bennett sighed. "He was 25 years old."

For a long time, the two men were silent. Finally, Wolenchek said, "I don't know if you will understand this, Admiral, but I'm glad Benton Quest still suffers over her death. She was like no one else I've ever known, and it's fitting that a woman of her caliber is never forgotten. I know I never have." Then, Wolenchek turned and began making his way through the crowd toward the door, leaving Bennett staring after him in pity.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

City Street
Bangor, Maine

Breathing deeply, Barbara looked out across the gaily-lit street. Christmas lights festooned the light poles and store windows up and down the street glittered with silver and gold tinsel and twinkling lights. As they stood there gazing out at the Christmas splendor of Bangor, a sudden explosion of laughter caused both of them to turn and look through the front window of the hotel. They saw Mike Short doing an impression of some basketball play in an over-exaggerated way that left the crowd convulsed in laughter. On the edge of the open space around the young man, both of them could see Jonny and Jessie. Jessie held Mica Sanderson in her arms while Jonny stood close, with one arm tucked around Jessie and the other laying across the shoulders of Brandon Simmons. As they watched, Mica yawned mightily and laid her head down on Jessie's shoulder. Jonny smiled and stroked the child's head gently. A stranger would have assumed that the four were actually a family.

"When did this happen?" Benton asked raggedly, his despair clear. "How could I have missed so much? And if . . . no when . . . they go, what do I have left? Jonny was my reason for living after Rachel died, and Hadji . . . Hadji was like a gift from God himself . . . a son so much like me . . . one who shared my interests. But I know he'll never be able to stay, now . . . not with the needs of Bangalore being foremost. And . . ." he stumbled to a halt, simply unable to put his feelings into words any longer.

Gently, Barbara guided him away from the building and the sights and sounds of the revelry within. They stopped near the empty fountain not far from the front of the hotel. The sculpture in the center of the pool shimmered with diffuse greens, reds, yellows and blues as the holiday lights glimmered on its burnished silver surface.

"Look around you, Benton," Barbara urged him softly. "This is a beautiful place . . . a place of joy. Can't you feel the sense peace here? The sense of place?" She paused, looking at him closely. "Whatever happens in the days to come . . . with Race and Estella . . .with your boys . . . you'll never be alone." She smiled at his look of confusion. "All these years, and you still don't understand us, do you? And yet, it doesn't matter. You've become one of us. You belong here, you know."

"I-I don't understand . . ."

She turned away from him and began walking slowly up the sidewalk toward the jewelry store on the corner. He followed her as though mesmerized, moving forward to catch her arm and steady her as her feet slipped slightly on the snowpacked sidewalk. "We're an insular people, Benton. You know that. We're fiercely independent, largely self-sufficient, and we don't like outsiders much. We accept strangers slowly." He nodded wordlessly. "But you aren't an outsider any more. You, and your family, haven't been for a long time. You supported school systems and libraries with both time and money when your own children didn't use them. You've come to the aid of stricken residents more times than I can count. Good God, I've seen you work a fishing trawler in nightmare weather conditions because there was a family that would have lost everything if they hadn't been able to continue bringing in their catch. And you never flaunt your wealth, even though all of us know it must be considerable. You could have paid off the man's boat ten times over and not even influenced your balance sheet, but you didn't . . . because you understood that the man's dignity was as important to him as his ability to feed his family. For those things, and hundreds of others, you've become a part of this community. And what's more, you've become an important part . . . people look to you for guidance, whether you realize it or not." She turned and laid a hand on his arm. "How can you possibly wonder what you will have left? Don't you realize how much people care about you here and how desperately you would be missed if you were gone?"

Benton stared at her in stunned silence, having no idea what to say. Barbara watched him for a minute and then continued softly, "As for your sons, Benton? You seem to feel that you're 'losing' them in some way . . . that they will vanish like smoke in the wind one day very soon. But you know that's not true. You are their foundation . . . what give them roots and the strength to face all the changes that are in store for them. And I think that you're going to find that the farther away they move, the more they will come back to you. Yes, it will be in different ways than you are accustomed to, but they're going to be equally satisfying. You should be incredibly proud of those two . . . and yourself as well. You've done a fine job raising them."

Benton finally found his voice. "Myron Dawson said almost the same thing to me the other day."

Barbara smiled. "Myron is a wise man. You should listen to him." Suddenly, her smile widened to a grin that had a decidedly evil glint. "And some years from now, when the grandchildren that both Jonny and Hadji are undoubtedly going to give you, are driving you to distraction, I am going to remind you of this conversation."

Benton's lips twitched, and suddenly he started to laugh . . . the first genuinely joyous laugh she'd heard from him in a long time. "I'll bet you will, too."

She caught his arm again and turned him back toward the hotel. "What do you say we go back in and join the fun? Personally, I want to know what the heck Mike Short was doing in there!"

"Yes, let's do." Then he stopped again and placed his hand over hers where it lay on his arm. "Thank you, Barbara . . . for everything. I-I don't know what we would have done without you."

She squeezed his arm and urged him forward again. "Isn't that what friends are for?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Out on the dark street, a shadowed figure watched from the alley across the way as Benton Quest and Barbara Mason stood talking in front of the hotel. It drew back more deeply into the darkness and then became motionless again as the couple walked down the sidewalk and stopped again. Francesca Hamilton stood in the shadows for a long time after they rejoined the other guests, just staring at the lights and people not far away. That event seemed to represent everything in her life that she didn't have and the realization made her angry and bitter. More than anything, she wanted to be a part of that group, but she knew it would never happen. How long she stood in the icy darkness, she couldn't say, but a voice behind her in the alley brought her around sharply.

"What are you doing here?"

"Keeping watch on the Quests. Isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing?"

"Skulking in an alley across the street?" the voice asked sarcastically. "I thought you told me you could get in with that crowd again . . . get close to them."

"I will," she replied irritably. "You've got to give me time. Jonny Quest is suspicious and I'm having to get past that. I'm dating his best friend now. It's only a matter of time before he relents and starts letting Bobby and I join in." She turned her back and stared across the street again. The hate was clear in her voice as she continued, "I would have been in a long time ago if it weren't for Jessie Bannon. She's the one who's blocking me . . . I know it. We need her out of the way . . ."

"You don't go near the Bannon girl!" the voice said sharply. The shadowy form stepped forward and jerked the girl around to face him. In the dim light from across the street, Francesca could just see the pale face and black hair of Connor Leeds. "You don't touch her! Is that clear?"

"What's the matter, Leeds? You got the hots for Race Bannon's daughter?" Francesca goaded him nastily.

With calculated precision, Leeds smacked the girl in the face. "We do not need Race Bannon on our trail in a hunt for vengeance. I got you out of that stinking Egyptian jail for one reason, and one reason only . . . so you could give me Baxter. So where is he?"

"I've told you before, I can't go hunting for Baxter. You don't approach that man . . . he comes to you. Setting myself up near the Quests is the one sure way to guarantee that he'll come looking for me. Particularly if what you say is true and Benton Quest holds something that Baxter wants. Provided your information is accurate," she added nastily.

"Oh, it's accurate. You just make damned sure that when the man contacts you, I hear about it!"

Francesca glared up at Leeds. "That's something else, Leeds. Have you forgotten? Our deal was that I provide you a line to bring Baxter down and in return, you spring my father. So where the hell is he, huh?"

"Getting you out was easy enough," Leeds replied irritably. "All I had to do was play on the sympathies of the new ambassador and exercise a little blackmail on some high-ranking Egyptian authorities. Getting your father out is proving to be more difficult. He's not a very pleasant or well-liked man, is he?"

"So call in some favors at the State Department. Surely you know someone who can put some pressure on."

"No," Leeds replied shortly.

Francesca stared at him for a long time, and then began to laugh bitterly. "I knew it. I just knew it. This whole thing is a rogue operation, isn't it? This isn't sanctioned by the company, and they don't even know you're in the middle of it. Oh, that's just great!"

"I will have Baxter," Leeds snarled. "He's mine . . . no one else's. I'm going to bring that bastard down, one way or the other."

"Yeah? You do that. You just remember one thing, Leeds. I can make you or break you here. I hold all the cards. So you will do what I want. That includes getting my father out of jail." Then she stepped forward and glared up at him, her eyes glittering in the dim light. Her voice was ugly as she finished, "It may even mean permanently ridding me of Jessica Bannon." And with that, she turned and disappeared into the night.