Saturday, December 25
Quest Compound
When Race Bannon woke late the next morning, it was to the uneasy sense of being alone. He lay there for a long minute, listening to the silence, feeling somehow disoriented. He shouldn't be alone . . . should he? He shifted, disentangling himself from the bedclothes and as he did so the sudden flash of gold from his left hand brought memories of the night before flooding back. He rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows, looking around.
"Stel?" Nothing disturbed the quiet of the room around him. He was definitely alone. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and got up, crossing the room to the bathroom. "Estella?" Her wedding gown hung on the closet door where she had put it the night before, and his tux was still tossed over a nearby chair, but other than that, there was no sign of her. Feeling obscurely hurt, he dressed quickly and headed off in search of his wife.
The instant he opened the outer door of their suite, he was greeted by the sounds of laughter and fragrant smells of cooking food. Realizing he was starved, he set off at a rapid pace for the kitchen. As he passed the family room door, Jonny called out to him, "Oho, here he is! Jeez, we thought you were going to sleep until noon!" Race paused, grinning at Jonny and Hadji who were lounging in front of the television. The fireplace burned merrily and Christmas lights gleamed on the large, brightly decorated tree that sat in the corner.
"Hey, I'd earned the right to sleep in! That party didn't break up until after midnight!"
"Well, you didn't have to stay," Jonny said, grinning evilly. "No one would have questioned it if you and Estella had left early."
Hadji choked back a laugh. "Yes, what time did you finally get to sleep, anyway?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Race replied good-naturedly. "I'm going to have to put up with this all the time, now, aren't I?"
"Yes, I believe you are," Hadji said smugly.
"You bet," Jonny agreed. "You're "legal" now, after all! I don't have to feel badly about making cracks about the noise anymore."
Race just snorted and said, "Speaking of my wife, where is she?"
"In the kitchen," Jonny replied, sounding slightly aggrieved. "They all are."
"And we are not allowed in there," Hadji added, sounding equally disgusted. "They say we are 'under foot'."
Race frowned suddenly, looking around. "Where's Benton?"
"I think he just tried to invade the sacred domain in the hope of getting another cup of coffee," Jonny replied. He waved at the computer workstation over near the Christmas tree. "He's been working on something ever since he got up this morning and he just took a break from it."
Race suddenly felt better. Ever since his conversation with Bennett and Wolenchek the night before, the thought of Benton had been weighing on his mind. In the flurry of closing down the Colombian dig, wedding preparations, and their other problems, it hadn't occurred to him until last night that Benton had been rather quiet of late. Knowing that he had spent the morning with his sons made Race feel better.
"Good morning!" a cheerful voice behind him said. Race turned to find Benton grinning at him archly. "I see you finally made it up. What did you do last night that left you so exhausted?"
"Not you, too!" Race groaned. "Come on, guys, give me a break! You aren't supposed to be ganging up on me." They all just laughed. "Fine, I'm going to go see if I can get some breakfast!" Their laughter followed him through the dining room and into the kitchen.
The room had to be a good ten degrees warmer than the rest of the house and it was filled with smells that left his mouth watering. Jessie stood at the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes, while Kefira worked diligently at the table kneading a large lump of dough. Just as he came through the door, Estella straightened up and closed the oven door. Her face was flushed from the heat and she was laughing. When she saw him, she set the turkey baster down and came around the island to greet him.
"Good morning!" she said warmly, coming straight into his arms.
He kissed her deeply before raising his head and saying, "Morning. Sorry I slept so late." Then he chuckled. "I'm being abused for it, too. Sexual innuendo seems to be the topic for the day." He pointed at the two girls across the room, both of whom were grinning widely at him. "Don't you two start, either! I've had enough of it from the three in the other room."
"And he didn't even do anything to be abused for . . ." Estella murmured demurely, with a look at her two companions. Both girls collapsed in a screaming fit of laughter and Race just gazed heavenward, as though asking for patience.
"Is there any chance at all I can get something to eat?" he asked plaintively. "I'm starved."
Leaving him standing just inside the kitchen door, Estella went and poured him a cup of coffee and put a large cinnamon roll on a plate. Returning, she handed them to him with a smile. "Will these do?" she asked.
"They look wonderful!" He took a sip of the coffee and looked around the kitchen. There was food everywhere he looked. "What are you doing . . . cooking for the Prussian army? Surely you don't intend for us to eat all of this?"
Jessie laughed. "Not hardly. No, most of this is going over to the community center in Camden later this afternoon. The local churches and community groups have all gotten together to host a big Christmas dinner for the poor and homeless this evening. Local individuals are donating all of the food and people from the community are working in shifts to serve. We've been helping Mrs. Evans cook for it for the last two days." She glanced up at the clock. "Kefira and I are scheduled to be there about 3:00."
Race frowned abruptly. "I'm not sure I like that idea. This isn't a good time for the two of you to go wandering around alone."
Jessie looked at her father in disgust. "Don't start! We promised we would do this. Both of us are armed and we'll watch ourselves, but we can't back out now."
Race looked from Jessie to Kefira. "Alright," he said reluctantly. "But before you leave, I'm going to want to run both of you through some shooting drills. You can use the practice, Jess, and I want to know just how good you are with that gun, Kefira. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't have let you walk out of here with it, but . . ."
"I know, Mr. Bannon," Kefira replied quietly. "Under any other circumstances, I would not have taken it. But yesterday it was more important to be certain that nothing happened to Estella."
He looked at the Indian girl for a long time and then simply said, "Thank you."
"I didn't even realize you had armed them, Race," Estella said quietly. "Not until about halfway through the reception last night. Did you really think there was that much danger? If you did, then we should have cancelled."
"To be honest, I didn't think there was. But it's always better to be overly cautious and have everything go right, than to assume things will go well and be sorry later." He looked at the two girls again. "Where are the guns now?"
"I am wearing mine," Kefira replied promptly.
"So am I," Jessie added.
Race looked both of them over carefully. "Where? They don't show."
Jessie dried her hands and reached around behind her, pulling the Glock out of the waistband of her jeans. Kefira wiped the flour off of her hands, reached up under her bulky sweater, and produced the HK. Race took both guns and pulled the ammunition clips.
"I'm going to put these away for now," he said, finishing his coffee. "I don't see the need for them in the house, but we'll go through the drills and you'll take them with you again when you leave this afternoon. In fact, until this is over, you don't leave the Compound unarmed, you understand?" They both nodded quietly as they resumed their earlier tasks.
Estella followed Race out of the kitchen and down to the study. She watched him silently as he once again opened the weapons cabinet, broke down the pistols and stored them safely.
"Come here," he commanded quietly. She moved to join him and he showed her the hidden latch for the gun cabinet and how to access it. "There are two others in the house . . . one in the family room and one upstairs in Benton's room. I'll show you where they are and how to get to them a little later. The one in Benton's room contains an assortment of both handguns and target weapons, and the one in the family room contains rifles of various sorts, including the prototype laser rifles Benton developed for defense of this Compound. There are pistols similar to them in the case here in the study. Those don't leave the facility."
"Why not?" she asked.
He leaned against the desk and looked at her solemnly. "You know how Rachel died?" Estella nodded. "Then you know that she was killed by a young soldier that had been assigned to guard the family." Again she nodded. "Since that time, Benton has not tolerated military personnel of any kind in a defensive role around his family. He abhors violence . . . of any sort . . . but he will resort to it if pushed. And his 'button', if you will, is a threat to one of the kids." A slightly surprised look formed on his face suddenly. "Or you and I."
Estella raised an eyebrow at him. "That's just occurring to you?"
"Yes . . . yes, I guess it is." Race reached out and pulled her into his arms. She could feel him smile against the top of her head. "Home, Estella. A place . . . with a real family . . . for the first time, we really do have one."
She clung to him tightly and she could feel her throat tighten as she thought of that. "Yes," she agreed in a whisper. "Yes, we do. One that will stand with us, no matter what."
His hold tightened, knowing she was thinking of her own mother. Finally, he released her and continued, "At any rate, to compensate for his unwillingness to have security personnel around him, he turned his skills to inventing systems to defend his family himself. This Compound is close to impregnable when it's on full alert. But it's 'smart' technology. It recognizes family members and ensures that no stray defensive shots come near them. Every defensive weapon in this place could be firing and you or I could walk out into the middle of it and never be touched. He also developed hand weapons that are more accurate than the most advanced anywhere. All of them can be set to stun only, so they don't have to be deadly, although they are fully capable of killing, too. But he won't let anyone else have them. He knows the kind of use they would be put to. So the prototype weapons stay here."
"But, you used one at the hangar. I saw you."
Race shook his head. "No. That was a standard laser pistol . . . the kind the military uses . . . not one of the prototypes." Race frowned slightly. "Benton slipped yesterday. When I opened the case to let Jess pick the weapon she wanted to take with her, Benton warned her not to take any of the prototypes. Bennett caught it, and so did Barclay. They didn't say anything at the time, but that one's going to come back to haunt us. I'd be willing to stake my life on it."
Estella looked up at him with a troubled expression. "Race, how long can this go on? We can't keep arming ourselves to the hilt every time one of us has to set foot outside the fences of this Compound."
"I don't know, Stel," he replied with a sigh. "But I'll tell you this much. Benton Quest doesn't tolerate anyone threatening his family, and that includes making them hole up like rabbits. So the one thing you can bank on . . . it won't be long before we go on the offensive."
Rockport, Maine
Francesca stifled the urge to tell Lillian Conners just exactly where she'd really like to put her stupid candlesticks. Instead, she smiled pleasantly and said, "Sure." Leaving the kitchen, she crossed the house and disappeared into the back bedroom. She closed the door and flopped down on the bed, glaring at the snowcovered landscape outside. She hated this place! It was almost worse than that jail in Egypt . . . at least there, she hadn't had to pretend to be pleasant all the time. But the passing thought of the Egyptian jail caused her to shudder. No, on second thought, this was better . . . a whole lot better, even if she did have to act gaggingly sweet all the time.
Damn, Leeds, anyway, she thought fiercely. He could have found someplace better for me to stay than here. I'm bored stiff and these people are driving me crazy! With a sudden, sharp ache she remembered previous Christmases with her father. They had had some really good times. There was the one year that they spent Christmas in Monte Carlo pulling that jewelry heist. Now that had been exhilarating. What a rush! They'd made really good money off of that one, too . . . hadn't had to pull another job for almost three months. And what about the year they spent Christmas on the beach in Bimini because they'd managed to scam this old woman out of a small fortune on a land development scheme. Francesca smiled wistfully. Those were good times. Thinking about those times make her realize just how much she really missed her father. He was really good and they made a good team. He could steal most anything and had the kind of smile that could make women believe anything. She was lucky that she had inherited that trait from him. Twisting men around her finger came so easily.
That thought made her think of Bobby Evans and she grimaced. What a rube. Talk about boring! He simply had no idea how to let go and have a good time. The only fun she'd been having in the lousy place was getting him to loosen up. She grinned maliciously. It had been pretty funny the night she'd gotten him drunk. That had given her a good laugh. He could hardly even stand up when she finally sent him home. She'd actually kind of hoped he'd wreck the car. Then she could have played the devoted girlfriend in the hospital when Jonny came to visit. That would have made him sit up and pay attention. She scowled. But Bobby'd managed to make it home in one piece, screwing up her plans again. This town just seemed custom designed to give her grief!
Francesca sat brooding for a long time. She had some scores to settle here . . . particularly the one with Ms. Bannon . . . but she was going to be really glad when she'd managed to get her father out of jail and they could be out of this place. It had been nothing but trouble from the day they set foot here. She'd even be willing to let everything else go if she could just free her father and settle up with Bannon! A slow smile began to form as she thought again of the idea that had occurred to her during her conversation with Leeds. The more she thought about it, the better she liked it. Get Leeds to take out Jessie Bannon . . . that would work. A nice, safe way to get rid of her for good. She didn't even care how he accomplished it . . . well, didn't care much, at any rate. She'd prefer it be something slow and painful, but as long as dead was the end result, he could pretty much do it however he pleased. It would take some serious pushing on her part, she was sure of that. As obsessed as Leeds was about bringing down Baxter, Race Bannon still seemed to have some kind of weird influence over the man. It was like he was scared of him or something. Bannon was an old man, for God's sake! Surely Leeds could take care of him if he got in the way . . .
The one thing that had kept her going while she was in that Egyptian jail was the knowledge that, one way or the other, she was going to get out and make Jessie Bannon pay. It was all her fault that the operation for Baxter had fallen apart. Things had been going fine until that red-headed bitch had to go sticking her nose in where it didn't belong. She had had Jonny Quest right where she wanted him. Another few days and he would have given her anything she asked . . . they wouldn't even had had to take it.
Memories of the time she had spent with Jonny flashed across her mind like fading photographs, and she found herself wanting those times back. She had enjoyed the hours she'd spent with him . . . listening to him talk about the places he'd been and the things he'd done . . . about his father and brother. It was strange, but she'd never been bored around him. In fact, she'd enjoyed his company so much that a couple of times she'd caught herself wishing she could stay beyond the completion of the job. She'd had to be so careful, because he seemed to be able to make her want to talk about herself. A couple of times, she'd even thought about telling him the truth. Abruptly, she sat up again and shook her head. Don't be an idiot, she told herself sharply. He never would have understood what it was like for Father and me. She berated herself for being a besotted fool. Jonny Quest was a do-gooder of the worst sort . . . the kind who really believed he could make a difference. Well, she knew better . . . had learned a long time ago that there were three kinds of people in this world . . . the kind that have, the kind that don't have, and the sheep . . . the ones that don't have and don't know the difference. Well, she was going to be one of the kind that have . . . and she'd get rid of anyone who got in her way! Including Jonny Quest or Jessie Bannon. Especially, Jessie Bannon, she thought vindictively. I'm going to enjoy getting rid of her!
"No!" Edgerton snapped. "We do not try for any of the Quests unless we have absolutely no other choice."
"We HAVE no other choice!" Julia replied coldly. "If you want Surd, you're going to have to get me Jessie Bannon. She holds the key to it all. She was the one who put Jeremiah in this condition and knows how to get him out of it, she has all the access codes to their computer system, and she means enough to Benton Quest that he'll barter for her life. You get me that girl, and I'll give you the rest of it."
"How can you be so sure that Surd will cooperate once you wake him up?" Baxter asked the woman.
Julia smiled . . . a particularly nasty smile. "Because with the Bannon girl in hand, you can give Jeremiah all he'll ever want . . . revenge against the girl for what she did to him, AND the key to destroying her father."
"Aren't any of you listening to me???" Edgerton practically screamed. "If you start pushing those people, they are going to push back. Our advance team already says that the Quests are warned . . . no surprise there . . ." he added sarcastically, with a disgusted look at his employer, " . . . and have their residence and research facility on alert. If you try to capture one of them, particularly one of their children, there won't be anyplace you can hide. Benton Quest has a reputation for a reason. He's smart and creative and has almost the same kind of resources you do." Edgerton pointed a warning finger at Baxter. "Plus, with Race Bannon in his corner, he's got the experience and contacts to put pressure where it's going to hurt."
"Sir . . ." A white-coated technician stepped forward hesitantly, looking like he would rather be anywhere else.
"What is it?" Baxter demanded irritably.
"Sir, the head of your advanced team in Maine is on hold for you. Says he has new information . . ."
Baxter reached out and smacked a button the console in front of him with his fist. Both Edgerton and the technician winced, wondering if the equipment would work at all after such a blow. "Speak!" Baxter thundered. The voice that replied was coldly impersonal and sounded hollow through the speakers that broadcast the words to the various people sitting around the table in the meeting room.
"There have been some new developments here that I felt you should be made aware of."
"Well, what are they?"
"You are aware that there was a large party that involved the entire Quest family last night?"
"Yes, yes," Baxter replied impatiently. Then he glared at Edgerton. "It would have been the perfect opportunity to take Quest . . ."
"At the time, I concurred with that assessment. However, one of the things I felt you should know is that event was heavily guarded . . . by military personnel."
Edgerton sat forward quickly. "Military?" he demanded sharply. "You're certain of that?"
"Yes! There were senior personnel in military uniforms in open attendance, as well as top-notch people covering the outside. It was all we could do not to be spotted."
"Numbers?" Edgerton persisted.
"No way to be certain. We spotted personnel covering a church in Camden, another group covering a hotel in Bangor, and men have now been spotted on the grounds outside of the Quest Compound itself."
"What were they doing at a church?" Julia asked, intrigued.
"A wedding, from the look of it. The reception appeared to be what was held in the hotel in Bangor."
"Were you able to tell who got married?" she asked.
"No, but it did appear it was one of the family. We were unable to get close enough to determine exactly what went on. Security was extremely tight."
Julia sat back, looking thoughtful. Glancing over at her brother, she commented softly, "Now I wonder who that could have been?"
"The Quest kid, maybe?" Lorenzo ventured. "Didn't we hear that him and the Bannon girl had hooked up?"
"Maybe, Julia said, sounding unconvinced. "That might explain the military personnel in attendance at the wedding, but not the ones posted on the facility itself."
"That is explained by the botched attempt on Bannon the night before," Edgerton replied in a biting tone.
"Another thing . . ." the man on the phone continued.
"Yes?" Baxter replied, totally engrossed now.
"A former associate has been spotted in Rockport . . . one we thought was out of commission."
"Who?"
"The Hamilton girl."
"That black-hearted little vixen from the Cairo operation?"
"That's the one."
"What is she doing there? I thought she was still incarcerated in Egypt."
"Apparently not. From what we can gather, she's been here for a little more than a month. She is staying with a family in Rockport and attending school there. By all appearances, she has simply settled down."
Baxter laughed harshly. "That one? Not hardly. If she's there, it's for a reason."
Edgerton sat forward, looking something other than angry for the first time. "She could be useful . . ."
"If she can be trusted," Baxter muttered darkly. "She botched the Cairo job badly enough."
"That wasn't her doing," Edgerton disagreed. "That was Keller's mess. And it just goes to prove my point . . . that entire operation came crashing down because Keller damned near killed the Bannon girl. We don't need to put ourselves back in the same position again!"
"I don't want her dead," Julia snapped. "I want her in my hands. Both Quest and Bannon will do what they're told if we're holding the girl. You can bet on it." She turned back to Baxter. "We're going to go nowhere until we can crack the Quest's defenses. Getting into that Compound to take it by force is out of the question. There are major military powers who are less well defended than that place is. And even if we could take it by force, you can bet there would be nothing left to find once we got there. I'll tell you something else, too. There are only three people in that Compound who have the knowledge to give you what you want . . . Quest himself, the Indian boy, and the Bannon girl. Of those three, the Bannon girl is our best bet. Benton Quest is a man of integrity." Julia made it sound like a dirty word. "I can promise you that if it's him you bring in, you will never get what you want. He'll die first. The boy . . . Hadji . . . has some Indian mystique thing going for him. He'll simply retreat into his mind and you'll never even faze him. That leaves the girl."
Baxter shook his head. "She's a child. There is no way Quest would have told her what we need to know."
"It doesn't matter," Julia countered confidently. "She holds the key to what happened to Jeremiah. Get her and you free him, and then you no longer need Quest."
"What about Quest's boy?" Edgerton said reluctantly, finally giving in to the inevitable. "You seem to be discounting him from the equation. Surely, what one boy knows, the other does. Particularly when you consider that the Indian boy isn't even Quest's son."
"Don't make that mistake," she warned. "Quest doesn't make the distinction. As far as he's concerned, both are his sons. That one is naturally born and the other is adopted makes no difference to him. As for Jonny Quest knowing what we need? If he is the one that comes to us readily, we can try, but that one is a crapshoot. The kid is bright and adaptable, but his strong suit is NOT research -- it's application. The kid can operate anything his father can build, but theory and technicalities? No, that's not what he's best at."
"If I can make a comment?" the man on the phone said.
"What is it?"
"I think the Bannon girl is outside of the Compound right now."
The tumult of questioning voices was drown out by Baxter's bellow. "WHAT???"
"There are two teenage girls in Camden right now that have been using a Quest vehicle. It's parked out on the street right now. I don't know the Bannon girl on sight, but I assume she must be one of them. I've got a man keeping an eye on them."
"Guards?" Edgerton demanded.
"Manageable. Two men in a car tailing them and an additional two shadowing the building where they are working, appears to be it."
"Who is the other girl?" Edgerton asked.
"I have no idea, although I think she may have been among those at the wedding the day before. A local friend perhaps."
"And none of the other members of the family?" Julia demanded.
"No. Only those two."
"Take her . . . NOW. And if you can't determine which one is the right one, take both of them. We can get rid of the other one later." Baxter instructed sharply.
"But do it quietly," Edgerton added urgently. "The longer we keep the other members of that family from knowing we have her, the more time we buy ourselves to disappear."
"You'll have her by morning."
Camden, Maine
"It's just beautiful tonight," she commented to her companion.
"Yes, it is," Kefira agreed. "If there were fewer buildings, it would remind me a great deal of home."
Jessie glanced at her. "Do you miss it?"
"Yes, sometimes I miss it very much." Then she turned and smiled at Jessie. "But I would not change it for anything. I love it here. Everything is so new . . . so different. And people have been so nice to me. I feel . . . " Kefira trailed off as though hesitant to say what she was thinking.
"What?" Jessie prompted her.
Kefira hesitated a bit longer and then said, "I feel as though I belong here. Not like I do at home . . ."
The two girls descended the stairs and walked toward the van that was parked against the curb a couple of blocks up the street. For a minute, neither of them said anything. Finally, Jessie said, "You want to talk about it?"
Kefira shrugged. "I am not sure what to say. I-I do not really know if I can make you understand what it is like."
"So try. I'm willing to listen."
The two girls were in no hurry as they strode leisurely through the cold night air.
"I guess, if I have to try to describe it, I would have to say that I just do not really seem to fit. Oh, my family loves me. That is not what I mean. It is just that . . . I guess I do not fit into any of the standard molds. I seem to want things that no one else even considers reasonable. Even my sister Maia, who will probably end up in a sisterhood somewhere, is more accepted than I am. I have always seemed too smart, too ambitious, too . . . " she looked at Jessie in frustration. "I really do not know how to explain."
"You don't have to," Jessie assured her. "I understand perfectly. It's not easy to want things that are considered unacceptable for your gender. You're just lucky your father supports what you want."
"But he did not . . . at least not until very recently. It was Hadji who made him change his mind."
Jessie looked at her in surprise. "Really? He never told us that."
She nodded. "I still do not know what he said to Father, but whatever it was, it caused him to completely change his attitude."
"Well, that's Hadji. I swear he could talk the spots off of a leopard."
An impish grin tugged at the corner of Kefira's mouth. "Did he ever tell you about the night we met?"
Jessie lit up in anticipation. "No! He just said that he ran into you at the palace."
Kefira's laughter rang clearly in the night air. "That is exactly what happened. He came around a blind corner moving very quickly and all but knocked me off my feet. He sent my textbooks flying all over the hallway and I almost went with them. I was so angry!" Jessie could almost see her blush even in the darkness. "I was not very nice to him, I am afraid."
"It must have taken guts to chew him out, though, what with him being the Sultan and all."
"Oh, I had no idea who he was. I-I thought he was one of the palace servants."
Jessie crowed in delight. "A servant! Oh, man, am I going to get some mileage out of this! Just wait until Jonny hears. He'll never let Hadji hear the end of it . . ."
"Oh, Jessie, please," Kefira said, suddenly alarmed. "Please do not tell him I told you. If he did not tell you himself, perhaps he does not want you to know. I do not want to embarrass him . . ."
Jessie was still laughing as she unlocked the doors to the van and they climbed inside. "Girlfriend, you have got a lot to learn about men . . . and Hadji in particular. This is the kind of thing you are supposed to abuse them over! Because, believe me, they'll do the same thing to you given half a chance." Then she shrugged. "Furthermore, you'd have to do a lot worse than rib him about mowing you down in a hallway to disrupt the way he feels about you. I saw him watching you go down the aisle yesterday at Mom and Dad's wedding. Man, he has fallen for you HARD."
"You really think so?" Kefira replied anxiously.
"Oh, I know so. I've seen Hadji appear to be interested in girls before, but nothing even close to this!"
"So tell me about some of his old girlfriends," Kefira urged, grinning.
"Uh uh. Not now. I told you . . . we're gonna save that for the Christmas party." The two of them laughed companionably as Jessie nosed the van out into the street and turned toward home. In her rearview mirror, Jessie watched as a non-descript white sedan pulled out several blocks back and began following her down the street. "We've still got our shadow," Jessie commented to the other girl.
Kefira craned forward to get a better angle out of the right side mirror. "I see him. Do you think he is one of the men that Admiral Bennett was trying to get Dr. Quest to agree to?"
"Oh, yeah. No doubt. That car has 'government dweeb' written all over it."
"You do not like the government people very much," Kefira observed, looking over at Jessie.
Jess shrugged and made a left turn out onto the highway, "No, not much, I guess. Too many of the experiences I've had with government types like that have been bad, and they really did mess with my father's head when he worked for them. They were largely what caused my parent's divorce."
"I didn't like Admiral Bennett very much."
"Actually, Admiral Bennett is okay. Most of the time, at any rate. I don't trust Leeds much, though."
"Neither do I," Kefira agreed fervently. "There is something about him that bothers me a great deal."
"Now what the heck . . ." Jessie applied the brakes and came to an abrupt halt, joining a line of about six cars that were sitting stopped in the roadway. She peered out the front window and spotted an officer in a brown Knox County sheriff's uniform. Rolling down her window, she called out to the man, "Sheriff Halley!"
The man ambled over the to van and gave the two girls a friendly smile. "Evening Ms. Bannon . . . miss."
"What's up?" Jessie asked.
Halley wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Jackknifed semi. Evidently hit a slick spot on the road, over corrected on the skid, and rolled the truck."
"Is the driver okay?" Jessie asked in concern.
"Shaken up, but otherwise unhurt. His load's spread all over the road, though. It's going to take a long time to clean up the mess."
"Any chance the road's going to be open soon?"
"If I had to guess, I'd say not before midnight. He was hauling a full load of building supplies . . . things like nails, screws, that sort of stuff and it was all in bulk. When the truck rolled, it split the trailer like a tin can and all that stuff spilled out onto the roadway. If it doesn't get cleaned up thoroughly, every car that passes through there will end up with flat tires."
"What a mess!" Jessie exclaimed.
"You got that right."
Jessie sighed in frustration. "Well, I don't feel like waiting here for six or seven hours for this to clear. Surely there's another way around it."
Halley shook his head ruefully. "Accident happened right at the junction of Route 1 and State Route 90. Got both roads totally closed down. You tryin' to get home?"
"Yeah."
"Best you're gonna be able to do, probably, is backtrack into Camden and take 105 and 235 over to East Union, pick up 17 down to West Rockport and on through to Rockland. There you can pick up Route 1 again and head back north to get to your place."
"That's close to 40 miles!" Jessie exclaimed. "What about the road through Simonton Corners? That would cut off almost all of that distance."
"Yeah, but that road goes down through the valley and crosses Goose River." Halley said. "Last I knew, they hadn't managed to get the river crossing cleared. If you could get across the river, you could get through, but there's about a quarter mile of it that's still impassible."
"Oh, fine." Jessie said in disgust and looked over at Kefira. "I'm having no luck with vehicles lately. Day before yesterday, we were here on snowmobiles and I was wishing for the van. Today we're here in the van, and now I'm wishing for the snowmobiles. I can't win."
Halley laughed. "Well, I wish you luck, ladies."
"Thanks, Sheriff! Stay warm!"
The man waved as he moved away. Jessie looked at Kefira and said, "Well, now what?"
"We seem to have a number of choices. We can wait here until the road opens . . ."
" . . . or we can go back into Camden and wait there . . . "Jessie said.
" . . . or we can take the route the policeman suggested . . ." Kefira added.
" . . . OR we can go check out the road to Simonton Corners and see if maybe . . . just maybe . . . they got it cleared near the end of the day and we can make it through. If we can, it's going to make the distance 10 miles instead of 40."
Kefira looked out the rearview mirror again, spotting the white car a short way back. "We still have our escort."
"Which means we've got back up. I say we check out the road to Simonton Corners. If it's not open, we haven't gone that far out of our way and we can still double back and pick up Route 105 and go the other way."
"I am willing," Kefira said agreeably. "We probably should call and warn your father, however. Either way, we are going to be late and he will be concerned."
"Good point," Jessie agreed. She reached out, flipped open the center console, and reached in for the cell phone. She groped around for a minute and then began to mutter. "Confound it, Quest, if you didn't put the stupid phone back in the car, I'm gonna shoot you!" She reached up and flipped on the map light and stared down into the console. Then she smacked it solidly. "Oh, when I get my hands on you . . ." She looked up at Kefira. "No cell phone."
"Where is it?"
"At home, probably. We don't normally have them on the snowmobiles, so when we took off the other morning he had to have snagged one from somewhere. I'd say he took the one from the van and never put it back."
"Is it possible that it is in the back somewhere?"
"I guess it could be, although it seems a strange place for him to put it."
"I will check." Kefira slid out of her seat and worked her way into the back of the van. Jessie could hear her rummaging around, opening and closing storage bins, and shifting boxes. Finally, she returned to the front and slid back into her seat. "It is not there. What do you think we should do now?"
"Oh, screw it. I'm tired and I want to get home. Let's just go for it and make our apologies when we get there. I just don't feel up to going into Camden and searching for a working pay phone. Furthermore, I don't think I have any change."
"I know I do not," Kefira said. "I put all of the loose change I had into the donation jar at the Community Center."
Jessie backed the van up and made a sharp U-turn, heading back the way she had come. As they approached the white sedan, she slowed and rolled down her window again. She could see the startled expressions of the two men as she pulled along side and gestured at them. Both men looked to be in their late twenties with short, military-style haircuts. The driver rolled down his window and said hesitantly, "Can I help you?"
"Just thought you'd want to know that the road's closed and we're going to take an alternate route home." She grinned at him. "Didn't want you wondering what was up." She waved as they started moving again. "Later!"
Kefira was giggling in the seat next to her. "Did you see his face??? He looked so surprised that you knew he was there."
"Oh, yeah, like he was so hard to miss!" Jessie said with good-natured sarcasm. Neither girl paid any attention at all to the dark SUV that sat four cars behind the white sedan, and who pulled out to follow the other two cars a few moments later.
Rockport, Maine
The door to the kitchen opened and the eldest of the two children stuck his head in. "Bobby's on the phone for you," he said.
"'K. Thanks," she replied and reached for a dish towel. She walked across the room and picked up the receiver and said, "Hello?"
"Hey, Francesca."
"Hi, Bobby," she replied, putting all the warmth and pleasure she could muster into her voice. "It's so good to hear from you."
"Yeah, you too," he replied sounding thoroughly smitten. "I really did . . ."
"Hold on a second, okay? Jeffrey Conners, you hang up that phone, you hear me?" There was dead silence. "Hang it up NOW," she repeated in a warning tone.
"Aw heck, I wanted to hear some mushy stuff," a third voice on the line said.
"Hang . . . it . . . up!" she said firmly, and after a minute there was a distinct click as the extension was hung up in another part of the house.
Bobby was chuckling. "I didn't even realize he was there."
"He likes to eavesdrop," Francesca said in disgust. Then, without thinking, she added, "You really have to watch the little weasel."
"Oh, come on, Francesca," Bobby said, sounding disconcerted. "He's just a kid. All kids are like that. He doesn't mean anything by it."
Kicking herself silently, she said, "Oh, of course he doesn't! I didn't mean to sound that way." She thought frantically, trying to find a way to explain the slip. It's just . . . "
"What's wrong?" Bobby asked gently.
"I-I've just been feeling a little . . . I don't know . . . lost, I guess. Like I . . . " she sighed deeply. "I don't know. I can't explain it, Bobby. I'm lonely, I guess. And I miss my Dad. I know he wasn't the greatest father in the world, but he's still my Dad . . . and it is Christmas . . . and . . . "
"Of course you miss him! It wouldn't be right if you didn't."
"Oh, Bobby, you're so great! I'm really lucky to have found a guy like you."
"Oh, hey, it's nothing. I just like being with you, that's all . . ."
"Yeah, but still. I mean, you've even stood up to Jonny." Oh, she was on a roll now! "I never wanted to come between the two of you. I know he was your best friend and all."
"Well, he wasn't a very good one then, was he? He has no right to get so high and mighty. You're my girlfriend . . . he can't pick and chose. I'm lucky enough to have you come back here and be interested in me, and if he can't deal with that, then screw him."
"You were just so nice to me," Francesca said. Then, in a suggestive voice that was as soft and caressing as silk, she added, "I wish you were here right now . . ." Bobby's breath caught in his throat, and Francesca's mouth curved up in a tiny, triumphant smile. "Can we get together this evening? I'd really like to be with you right now."
The smile disappeared as Bobby hesitated. Finally, he said, "I probably better not. My Dad's still pretty burnt about the other night."
"But why?" she asked, sounding hurt. "All we did was have a little fun. We didn't hurt anything."
"I know, but he's just being a pain about it."
"I really would like to see you," she urged him shamelessly. "I miss you so much . . ."
"I miss you, too," he replied, clearly weakening. "Maybe we could meet later . . ."
Suddenly, in the background from Bobby's end of the phone, Francesca heard an irritated voice. She couldn't hear what was said, but Bobby's voice turned sharp and angry. "Hey, I'm on the phone, okay? I'll be done in a while." The voice said something else, to which Bobby replied, "It's none of your business! Just get lost." There was another string of incoherent comments from the other voice, to which Bobby replied. "All right, all right. I'll be done in a minute!" There was a brief silence and then Francesca heard the clear sound of a door slamming. Then Bobby said regretfully, "Look, I better go. There's no way I'm going to be able to get out of here tonight. My Dad's watching me like a vulture. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Nothing," Francesca replied, putting all the hurt and loneliness she could muster into her voice.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning around 5:30 down on the corner near your house. That should be early enough to get me out before my father can latch onto me. We'll go skiing or something . . . spend the day together. What do you say?"
"That sounds wonderful!" she replied fervently.
"Okay, I'll see you then . . ."
"I'll be waiting . . . " she said in that same suggestive voice. "Goodbye, Bobby . . ."
"Bye."
Francesca hung up the phone and smiled to herself. Well, it may not be a great way to spend the day, but if nothing else, she ought to be able to entertain herself tomorrow. God, he was so easy . . .
"Mobile two, this is home base. We read you. What is your status?"
"Home base, we are traveling northbound on U.S. Route 1 approaching the intersection of state route 105."
"Are you still in contact with the assigned subjects?" The man asked sharply. Looking at his companion, he snapped. "That's the wrong direction . . . get me a map!"
"Yes, sir. We are trailing the Quest van about four car lengths back."
"That's too close! They'll spot you."
The resignation was clear in the young soldier's voice as he replied, "Oh, they've already done that, Lieutenant. In fact, they stopped to tell us that they were taking an alternate route due to the road closure." He then proceeded to explain what had transpired. "We're now following them, however I don't know where they're heading."
The lieutenant sighed and looked at the three other men who had gathered around him. "These people do not make our jobs easy." After contemplating the map for a minute, he shook his head and said into the microphone, "Okay, stay on them. There are too many possibilities to be able to figure out what they're planning. Just keep your eyes open and let me know when they pick a course."
"Yes, sir. Mobile two out."
The lieutenant stared hard at the map and finally muttered to himself, "I don't like this . . . I don't like it at all."
Kefira peered through the window at the sign that said 'Mechanic Street' and asked, "And this goes right where we need to go?"
"No, we'll take this to the edge of town and then turn south on a country road that goes to Simonton Corners."
"Is this town large?" Kefira inquired uneasily as she watched the shadowed storefronts slide past in the dark. Other than the car that remained diligently behind them, there didn't seem to be another living soul around.
"No, it's mainly just a crossroads with a couple of houses and an old mill that sits on the river. It's got a name because the Simonton family has lived there forever. Okay, here we are." Jessie applied the brakes and they skidded slightly as they came to a stop. The two girls looked around carefully. "Well, I don't see any 'road closed' signs," she said hopefully.
"Yes, but that road is extremely narrow and the snow is over halfway up the windows on both sides. If it is open and we meet another car coming in the other direction we are going to have a problem."
"You want to go back?" Jessie asked her companion.
Kefira thought about it for a moment and then glanced in the mirror again. The white car had stopped some distance behind them and appeared to be waiting. In the distance, Kefira caught the flash of headlights, as another vehicle turned onto Mechanic Street. Then they disappeared, and Kefira decided the car must have pulled in someplace. Finally, she shook her head. "I do not know this area. I will let you decide. If you think we can get though, then I am willing to try it."
Jessie looked around her again. "This looks freshly plowed. And the snow is so high to either side because of the snowplow. You can see that it's not nearly as deep once you're past the berms. I think the odds are good that they managed to clear it right before dark and Sheriff Halley just hadn't heard about it. I say we try it."
Kefira nodded in agreement and Jessie released the brake and advanced slowly into the narrow, high-walled track.
"Go ahead, mobile two," the lieutenant replied immediately.
"The subjects have just turned off of Mechanic Street in Camden onto a narrow track that appears to lead out into the countryside. It is narrow but appears passable."
The lieutenant immediately looked alarmed and began staring at the map again. "Is there any kind of sign marking the track?"
"Negative. There are no route markers of any kind. I would say that the girl knows the area and knows where she's headed, however. She came directly to this track without any hesitation."
"What direction is she heading?"
"Southwest."
"This one, maybe?" he muttered to one of the men that had joined them, pointing to a small track on their topo map.
"That's little more than a dirt road," the other man objected. "Surely that hasn't even been plowed yet."
"Have you seen any sign of trouble? Anything at all?" the lieutenant asked. He had no reason to be concerned, but for some reason, he was becoming more and more uneasy.
"We did spot another vehicle shortly after we turned off of Route 105 onto Mechanic Street, however it appears to have disappeared. We assume it must have been going to one of the structures along the street in town."
"Alright, follow the van . . . and stick close. Be sure to keep in contact."
"Yes, sir. Mobile two out."
"I don't like it," the lieutenant said with conviction. "Something feels off." He thought briefly and then appeared to come to a decision. "I'm calling the Quest Compound."
"But, sir, " one of the men objected, "we aren't even supposed to be trailing that car. Our orders were very specific . . . to guard the grounds outside the facility. What if the people inside object to our following the vehicle?"
"It's a risk I'm willing to take. Admiral Bennett was very clear about the fact that these people were in serious danger. I don't want to be left in the position of trying to explain to the Admiral why I sat back and did nothing if something should happen to one of them." He snapped his fingers at one of his team members. "Give me the phone!"
"It was not!" Hadji objected. "He was drawn off. It was a false start."
"It was not," Jonny argued, pointing at the TV screen. "Yeah, he moved, but he was back in set position before the ball was snapped."
"How much time we got left?" Race asked settling back into his chair with a large plate of food.
"Four minutes, twenty-three seconds . . ." Jonny replied, eyeing Race's plate with interest. "Where'd you get that?"
Race gestured with this thumb. "Kitchen," he mumbled through a mouthful of turkey sandwich.
"The play clock is going to run out . . . no, there is the snap." Hadji said, riveted to the screen.
Abruptly, Jonny sat straight up, yelling, "BALL!" at the exact same time Hadji exclaimed, "FUMBLE!"
"TURNOVER!" Jonny shouted triumphantly, bouncing to his feet in excitement. Hadji just looked disgusted. Jonny nudged him sharply. "TV timeout. Come on, let's get something to eat quick before they come back from commercial break." Hadji leaped to his feet and the two of them sprinted toward the kitchen, almost knocking Estella to the floor as she came in the door. She ducked back against the wall, holding her plate high and uttered a surprised exclamation.
Benton looked up sharply and yelled after the two, "Watch where you're going!" He looked at Estella in concern. "Are you alright?"
She laughed a little breathlessly and replied, "Yes, I'm fine. But I can tell that I'm not accustomed to living in a house full of men. I'm going to have to pay closer attention when I come around blind corners."
Benton chuckled. "Especially when football is on."
Laughing, Estella headed for the sofa, but as she went by Race's chair, he reached an arm out and snagged her, pulling her down into the large, leather chair with him. "There's enough room here."
"I know nothing at all about football," she warned. "You know that."
"That's okay. We'll teach you."
Estella just shook her head. Then she looked over at Benton. "What have you been working on so diligently all day? I've hardly heard you say ten words."
Benton laughed and leaned back, stretching mightily. "I can get a bit single-minded sometimes. You'll find that out once you've been around here for a while."
Race snorted. "Single-minded? That's being kind! This is just a mild interest. When he really gets going, you won't hear him say a word for days and you practically have to shove food down his throat to get him to eat! I have also seen him fall asleep at his computer keyboard. I actually checked on him in the lab one day and he was just sort of propped up with his face squashed against the monitor, dead to the world."
"I never get that bad!" Benton protested.
"Oh, yes, you do!" Jonny agreed coming back in with a heaping plate of food. "You and Hadji, both."
"Father and I call it 'dedication'," Hadji replied with great dignity, following Jonny in the door.
"What he said," Benton agreed with a grin. Then the smile dimmed. "I've actually spent the day going over what Isaac Wolenchek was able to tell me about that weapon and it's apparent faults, and trying to reconstruct what I think Victor Payson had done in the development. If I'm right, we actually may be better off than Bennett and his people think we are."
Race's attention sharpened. "Yeah? How do you figure that?"
Benton shook his head. "I've seen some of Payson's early work. It was heavily based on all of the prevailing theories on matrix development and it's application to computer modeling. That theory is fine . . . up to a point. But it rapidly reaches its limits when you begin demanding the level of multi-tasking that's required by fully immersive VR. The matrix system, no matter how complex, simply can't keep up with it. And that makes it a dead end. It will never be fully fluid, the way Payson envisioned it. In fact, if that's what he's done, then I would say that he's reached the absolute limit of what that weapon is capable of."
"I don't understand any of this," Estella complained.
Surprisingly, it was Jonny that spoke up. "Have you ever been waiting at a stop light, not really paying attention, and suddenly felt as though you were rolling, but when you look around you find that you're sitting perfectly still? If you look really closely, you'll probably find it's the car next to you or in front of you that's rolling, but it's caused you to feel like you were." Estella nodded. "It's the same sort of thing. When the system isn't fast enough or complex enough, your mind picks up cues from outside the simulation and you become disoriented and that's what causes the problems." Jonny shrugged. "It's one of the reasons young kids tend to be able to tolerate much longer exposures to video and arcade games than adults. They don't have quite the ability that an adult has of absorbing and analyzing multiple stimuli . . . they tend to focus solely on what's in front of them and close out the other stuff."
Benton looked at Jonny in amazement. "Very good, Jonny!" he exclaimed. "That's an excellent analogy."
Jonny grinned back at his father. "Hey, just because I'm not great at developing the stuff, doesn't mean I don't understand how it works."
"You all sound as though you've seen it done better," Estella commented. "Does that mean that someone else has managed to develop a system that works better?"
They all exchanged a look, and it was Jonny who replied. "Yeah, we've seen it done a whole lot better. IRIS is part of a fully immersive VR system. Hasn't Jessie ever mentioned QuestWorld to you?"
Estella frowned. "Yeeessss," she said slowly, thinking carefully. "I seem to remember she's mentioned working in a simulation called QuestWorld. I assumed it was some sort of video game."
Race shook his head. "QuestWorld isn't a program. It's an entire set of programs . . . an adaptive set of programs . . . that are all tied together to form a single environment. A wholly simulated environment."
"And then you can develop specific applications for that environment," Hadji added.
"Are you telling me that we have the very weapon that Bennett fears in this Compound?" Estella asked in horror.
"No," Benton replied. "Absolutely not. I will not allow QuestWorld to be used for those purposes."
"But then what do you use it for?" Estella asked, confused.
"QuestWorld has infinite possibilities," Hadji said solemnly. "You can program it to simulate the operation of a machine you are trying to invent to see if it will work, or you can use it to model weather systems when you're trying to predict storms."
"You can use it to train people to do things," Race added. "That was the pretense Bennett came here under . . . trying to develop fully immersive VR so that they can use it to train combat troops at a much lower cost."
"And not only military troops," Benton added. "You could use it to train students in specialized professions. Can you imagine how much more effective a cardiovascular surgeon would be if he's been through hundreds of fully accurate simulations of a heart replacement before he ever had to operate on a live patient?"
"We even used it once to rebuild a shattered Greek statue," Jonny said. "We scanned all the pieces into the computer, numbering each one as we went. Then we programmed IRIS to rebuild the statue. She rebuilt it in 3-D in QuestWorld and then gave us a chart with each piece numbered so that we knew how to reassemble it. Kinda like putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. It's really amazing and a whole lot of fun." He grinned at Estella. "Remind us, and Jess and I will take you into it and teach you how to play a couple of the games we've developed for it. You'll never look at video games the same way again."
Estella looked at Benton Quest in amazement. "But this is incredible! Why haven't I ever heard anything about this?"
"Because only a very few people outside of this room even know it exists," Benton replied gravely. Tapping the monitor at his elbow, he said, "And this is why. For all the good that a system like this could do, it's potential for harm is equally great. QuestWorld would be capable of turning Victor Payson's weapon into an almost unstoppable killing machine. I can't . . . I WON'T . . . be a party to unleashing something like that on the world. I'll destroy it first."
The shrill ring of the phone ripped through the dead silence causing all of them to flinch. After a moment's hesitation, Hadji leaned out of his chair and picked up the phone. "Hello? Yes, he is here. May I tell him who is calling? Very well, just one moment." Hadji hit the hold button and passed the phone to Race, saying, "The gentleman is hesitant to give his name, however he says that he is a co-worker of Admiral Bennett."
Race nodded. "Five will get you ten, it's the officer in charge of the unit outside the Compound." He took the phone and, hitting the hold button again, he said, "Bannon." Almost immediately, he began to frown. "Blocked? Blocked how? They did what? When? What do you mean, you don't know where they are?" Race looked at Jonny and Hadji and then snapped, "Hold on. Do you know a country road off of something called Mechanic Street in Camden?"
The two young men exchanged a look and Jonny immediately nodded. "Yeah. It's the road that leads down to Simonton Corners."
"What the hell would Jessie and Kefira be doing going there at this hour of the night?"
Both young men sat up abruptly, looking seriously concerned. "I don't know," Jonny said. "What's blocked?"
"Route 1, supposedly. The lieutenant in charge of the troops outside the perimeter said he felt uneasy today, and so when Jessie and Kefira left this afternoon, he put a tail on them. His men report that Jessie told them the road is blocked, and when the Lieutenant contacted the Sheriff's Office, they said an overturned semi has it closed. Evidently, when Jessie and Kefira discovered they couldn't get through, they turned around and headed out of town on this country road."
"Jonny, is the cell phone in the van?" Benton snapped, surging to his feet and beginning to pace.
"Yeah, it is."
"Go get the phone in my study and call her. Let's find out what's going on," his father instructed.
"Hold on, Lieutenant. We're going to try and contact my daughter and find out exactly what they're doing."
"You know," Hadji said thoughtfully, "if the main road is blocked, she may be trying to take a bypass. The road to Simonton Corners crosses the river and goes on down to West Rockport. From there, they could get on either State Route 17 or 90. Both would take them back to Route 1. Do we know where it is blocked?"
Race directed the question to the man on the phone and then said, "Right at the junction of Route 1 and Maine 90."
"Then they are heading for Route 17 in West Rockport. They are trying to go around."
"I know that road," Benton said in concern. "It's not great even in the best weather. I don't like to think of what it's liable to be like in all this snow."
"Why the hell didn't she call?" Race demanded, sounding angry. "She knows better than this."
"It's not answering," Jonny said, sounding seriously concerned as he came striding back into the family room. "It just keeps ringing and then going to the message about the party not being available."
"Are you sure she had the phone with her, Jonny?" Benton asked.
"I'm positive," he said with conviction. "I helped them load the food in the van and I knew we'd had it out a couple of days before. I went and got it, checked the battery charge, and put it in the center console myself, right before they left."
"I don't like this . . . " Estella said.
Suddenly, a loud clear warning tone began to sound and IRIS announced, "WARNING! EMERGENCY ALARM HAS BEEN ACTIVATED ON VEHICLE QUEST 2. PRIORITY CALL FOR ASSISTANCE HAS BEEN RECEIVED." The computer paused for a second and then continued, "SENSORS INDICATE THE VEHICLE IS UNDER HEAVY ATTACK BY UNKNOWN ASSAILANTS APPROXIMATELY SIX MILES NORTHWEST OF THIS LOCATION."
"They're under attack, Lieutenant!" Race barked as everyone ran for the door. "Can your men reach them? Well, have them try. We're on our way!"
Kefira leaned downward, unconsciously attempting to make herself a smaller target against the large windows and searched the dark countryside. "Where are they coming from?" she demanded.
"They have to be behind us," Jessie said, trying to accelerate again. "There's no way they got by us, and they couldn't have anticipated ahead of time that we'd come this way."
They heard another round of gunshots, but this time they appeared to be directed elsewhere. They were immediately followed by the sound of returning gunfire somewhere behind them.
"This was a trap?" Kefira demanded incredulously, pulling the pistol and holding it at ready.
"Don't know and doesn't matter," Jessie replied grimly, slamming on the brakes again, and deliberately forcing the van into a spin. The back end snapped around sharply and both girls were jolted as it came to an abrupt halt, wedged firmly into the snow banks at a 90-degree angle to the roadway. "It worked, whether it was planned or not. We have got to get out of this van. We're sitting ducks in here!" Reaching out toward the dashboard, Jessie clawed at a piece of black plastic, which popped out into her hand. Kefira couldn't see what it was in the dark, but Jessie brought her fist down on it sharply, and then rose and scrambled between the two front seats and into the back of the van.
"What was that?" Kefira asked, clamoring after her. More shots sounded in the night and the safety glass in the front window suddenly fractured into thousands of small pieces. Both young women ducked instinctively, however the windshield held.
"Panic button," Jessie replied as she began clawing frantically at a pile of linen that was stacked in the back of the van. Snatching up two large white tablecloths, she turned back and shoved them into Kefira's hands. "It sends a signal to the Compound that we're in trouble. We've got help on the way, but we've got to last until they can get here!" Scrambling back toward the front of the van again, she knelt behind the console and began working at the base of it. Kefira watched as the back of the unit popped off, revealing some sort of electronic device. Jessie pressed a button on one side and the device suddenly came to life in a rainbow of colored lights. In the upper corner a yellow light began to flash. Jessie quickly keyed a series of numbers into a small keypad and, abruptly, the flashing yellow light turned to a steadily shining red beacon. She grabbed a small, palm-sized device and shoved it into Kefira hands, as well. "Here," she said sharply. "Hang onto this, and whatever you do, don't push the button in the middle of it!"
Both girls dropped flat as a series of bullets slammed into the side of the van facing the white sedan. "Definitely behind us," Kefira said. Jessie noted with detached approval that the Indian girl sounded a bit breathless but showed no trace of panic. "You said something about getting out of this vehicle, I believe?"
"Yes! Hold on just a second . . ." Jessie gathered her feet up under her and, with an abrupt movement, she dived back into the front seat. Reaching through the steering wheel, she struck the headlight switch and the van went totally dark. Groping her way back in the dark, she felt her way along with line of the roof until she located the interior dome light. She worked her nails up underneath the plastic and yanked on it until it popped loose in her hands. Reaching up into the fixture, she grabbed and pulled hard. After a moment's resistance, the entire interior assembly pulled away from its mount. With a second yank, she ripped it out, leaving wires dangling. "There," she panted, "that will disrupt the entire lighting circuit and we should be able to get out without any of the lights going on to warn them we're moving."
Kefira had been crouched, motionless, listening to the exchange of gunfire outside. "I believe we may have lost one of our defenders," she said. "There does not appear to be as much return fire as there was before."
"Then it's time for us to move." Taking the linen back from the other girl, she crouched in front of the door and said, "Let's go . . . out the side door of the van, stay low, and head straight up the road as fast as you can go." Jessie reached down and pulled the handle, opening the door.
"Would it not be better to stay near the van?" Kefira hissed in a low voice as she slid through and hit the ground. "It least it will provide some cover." Jessie joined her quickly, hitting the central locking button as she exited, and shutting the door behind her. Shoving Kefira ahead of her, both girls took off at a fast shuffle, staying crouched below the berms of snow.
"No," Jessie replied in a low whisper. "We can't hold out there until my Dad gets here. We need to buy ourselves some time. Let's go!" Slipping and sliding, the two girls moved away from the van as quickly as they could. As they ran, Jessie shook out one of the tablecloths that she held and shoved it at Kefira. "Here!" she whispered frantically. "Wrap this around you!"
As Kefira realized what Jessie was handing her, she sputtered in amazement. "What is this for?"
"We're dark shapes against pure white snow in bright moonlight. We're standing out like silhouettes. We need something to make us blend in better and this is the best I could do. Come on . . . and hurry!"
Jessie looked over her shoulder as they skidded along the track, trying to see what was going on behind them. Gunfire still sounded, but it was now sporadic, coming in fits and starts, rather than in a regular exchange. Suddenly, against the white of the snow, she saw dark shapes materialize around the van. "They've reached the van," Jessie whispered frantically. "Go! Quickly!"
In the clear night air, both of them could hear the sound of a fist striking the side of the vehicle and a man's voice calling out, "Open the door and you won't be hurt!" The fist struck the door several more times and the man swore sharply. "We'll break in if we have to. Make it easier on yourself!"
Jessie smacked Kefira in the back and then shoved her toward one of the piles of snow along the side of the road. "Up and over into the snow. NOW!" Both girls scaled the piled up snow and rolled down the other side. "Give me that thing I handed you," Jessie demanded and Kefira passed it back to her swiftly. Holding her breath, Jessie waited for what she knew was coming. The instant she heard the gunshot, she pressed the button in the center of the small device and the next second, night turned into day as the van exploded into flames.
The sound of the explosion reverberated through the clear night air, reaching the rest of the Quest family even over the scream of the snowmobile engines. They all looked up to see the remains of the flames and smoke billowing up into the sky above the trees.
"Oh my God!" Estella cried, watching in horror. Race said nothing, grimly gunning the engine and speeding on at a break-neck speed. Out in front, both Jonny and Hadji rode like they were possessed, dodging trees and undergrowth deftly. They had been out the door and sprinting toward the storage shed almost before IRIS had been able to repeat her warning, pulling coats and gloves on as they went. Race would have preferred it if Estella had stayed behind, however she was having none of that, so he'd seated her behind him on one of the larger machines and told her sharply to hang on. They had crossed the Compound grounds, accelerating rapidly, and had erupted out of the front gate going at full speed, scattering military personnel in all directions. From the first, Jonny and Hadji had taken point. Race made no objections, knowing that both of them knew more about the surrounding land than any of the rest of them put together. Growing up, the two boys had spent hours exploring every square inch of the countryside for miles. They knew the roads, trails and woods intimately and either of them could find their way through them without any kind of assistance, even in the dark.
Initially, they had taken the access road out of the Compound, but when they hit the highway, neither of them had hesitated. Shooting straight across the road, they dove directly into the trees on the other side and set off in a straight line cross-country. Race and Benton had followed without hesitation. Race estimated that they had gone about half the distance to where the van was believed to be when the explosion occurred.
Benton pulled up close along side and yelled over to Race, "We've got company!"
Race shot a look behind him just as four more snowmobiles joined their procession. One look identified them. "Military!" he yelled back. "Bennett's people." Benton just nodded, concentrating once again on the task of not hitting anything at their rapid pace. Ahead of them, Race saw that the trees were beginning to thin. Suddenly, Jonny and Hadji broke into the open. Gunning the engines they accelerated hard up the slight incline. Race watched in horror as both young men topped the rise at high speed and went airborne. They hung there for a fraction of a second, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, and then dropped abruptly from view. By the time it fully registered to Race and Benton, both men had reached the edge and shot into open air as well. As they cleared the edge, the valley opened out below them, and both saw that rather than being forested, open ground fell away down toward the river. In the distance, the fire from the burning van could be clearly seen. As the snowmobile hit the ground again, Race could hear the startled cries of the government men behind them as they topped the rise and struggled to stay upright on their machines. With a slightly apologetic thought for the men behind him, Race accelerated once again, following Jonny and Hadji down toward the flames below.
The resounding explosion sent shattered pieces flying in all directions. Jessie and Kefira lay flat on their stomachs in the snow, shielding their heads and waiting for the falling debris to abate. Finally, Jessie raised her head slowly and looked around. After a moment she breathed a deep sigh of relief and said, "Yee ha . . ."
Kefira propped herself up on her elbows and stared at Jessie. "I can tell," she commented, "that life with Hadji and his American family is not going to be dull. Do you always have your vehicles wired so you can cause them to explode?"
"Only the ones that have Dr. Quest's prototypes in them. There's some stuff he simply won't let anyone else have. The van is . . . was . . . one of those vehicles. All of us are under very specific orders to destroy them rather than allowing them to be taken by an enemy."
"What did it have in it that is so sensitive?"
Jessie rose carefully to her knees and peered up toward the top of the berm of snow. "I'd rather not talk about it here, but once we get back home, I think you've earned the right to see it for yourself."
The two young women carefully climbed the piled snow and stared back at the burning wreckage. "I will hold you to that." After a moment, she added, "Do you think we eliminated the people that were hunting us?"
"I don't know. Look, you stay here and keep an eye out. I'm going to try going back. If nothing else, we need to see if we can help the guys in the car that were tailing us."
"I do not believe we should split up," Kefira objected. "There is at least some safety in numbers."
Jessie shook her head. "No. I know we got at least some of them . . . there was no way they could have gotten far enough away to clear the van . . . but we don't know if we got everyone. I need you here to cover my back if I get up there and find them waiting for me." Reluctantly, Kefira agreed. Their entire conversation had been carried out in hushed whispers. Now, Jessie fell silent and with a quick squeeze to Kefira's arm, she squirmed to the top of the snow bank and slid back down into the road. Moving slowly, in a semi-crouch, she moved back toward the van. She was about 30 feet away when she found the first man. He lay face down in the middle of the road and when she checked there was no sign of a pulse. She moved on silently. She stopped just outside of the circle of light formed by the still-burning vehicle. From that distance she could see two more men and she didn't need to go any closer to tell that they, too, were dead. She backed up slowly and then turned to climb the snow bank again, intending to go around the van to the other side. She was about halfway up with a voice behind her snarled,
"Hold it right there, sister." Jessie froze, spread-eagled on the snow, not even breathing. "Back down on the ground . . . nice and slow. That's good. Now turn around and face me!" Jessie did as she was told. She couldn't make out a great deal . . . the light was too poor and he was dressed mostly in white, causing him to fade into the background of snow. But she could tell he was tall and rangy, and when he moved, it appeared to be with some difficulty. The man raised his voice and yelled, "Commander, I got one of them!"
Jessie watched silently as a shape rose from the far side of the van to stand on the top of the snow berm above the flaming wreckage. In the fitful light cast by the flames, she could see that he was small . . . maybe five-three . . . with a full head of dark hair and the broad shoulders and narrow hips of a gymnast. With graceful ease, he walked along the crest until he cleared the wreckage and then jumped down to land lightly on the road surface. The fact that he didn't even appear to slip on the slick surface told Jessie just how dangerous this man was likely to be. When he spoke, his voice was light and cold.
"That rolling lump of flesh and metal had better be worth all of this." He moved forward until he stood next to his cohort and surveyed her from head to foot. "You cost me four men . . . good men . . . and I don't take that lightly. What's your name?" Jessie said nothing, simply staring back at him unflinchingly. With lightning quickness, the man lashed out and slapped her across the face. In the same tone, he repeated, "You will answer me. What is your name?"
Jessie raised her head, giving it a quick flick that tossed her hair back out of her face. "Monica Lewinski," she replied without inflection.
He struck her again. "What is your name?"
"Martha Stewart."
Again. "What is your name?"
"Sarah Michelle Gellar." This time, she felt her lip split when his fist struck her, and when he asked the question again, she heard anger and knew he was losing patience.
"WHAT IS YOUR NAME!?"
She raised her head and wiped her mouth with the back of one wrist. It came away bloody. She gave him a cold smile and opened her mouth to reply, but before she could utter a word, a voice from behind them said flatly, "Princess Amidala." At the same time, the man with the gun screamed and fell to the ground as a long dark object struck him solidly in the ribs. The smaller man lunged for Jessie almost immediately, but she was already moving, having had a split second's warning of Kefira's attack. The man struck the wall of snow face first, and before he could recover, Kefira had grabbed her pistol and snapped off a shot in his direction. It struck high and to his right. As he turned, intending to renew his assault on the two women, he saw two things that immediately changed his mind. The first was Jessie, bringing a second gun to bear on him in a way that told him she would not hesitate to use it. The second was the sight of a small army of snowmobiles that appeared suddenly over the crest of the hill and roared down toward them at top speed. With a snarl, the man made a tremendous leap and hauled himself up to the top of the wall of snow. Both women saw him pull a gun and they leaped in opposite directions, searching frantically for cover. A single, sharp shot reverberated through the night air and then he was gone.
For a long moment, both women lay motionless in the snow, not quite sure it was really over. Slowly, Jessie raised her head and called, "Kefira?"
"I am here," came the immediate reply. "Are you hurt?"
"No, nothing worth mentioning. You?"
"I am fine, as well."
Slowly, Jessie stood and wiped her mouth again. After a minute, she commented, "Looks like the cavalry is on its way." She moved a bit further away from the burning wreckage and sat down hard on the road, well out of range of any residual flicker of light. Until help was on the scene, she had no intention of making herself any more of a target than she already had been tonight. Kefira came and sat down beside her. They were both silent for long moment and then Jessie sighed, "Well, my dad should be well and truly pissed over this . . . " She fingered her split lip and bruised cheek gently and winced, " . . . not to mention Jonny."
"You could have told him your name," Kefira said, sounding very tired.
"Yeah, but that would have been wrong. Refusing to answer him bought us time. And that was time we needed, both for you to get set so that you could bail me out," Jessie heard Kefira chuckle, "and for the rest of the family to arrive. Tell me something, though . . ."
"What?"
"Why didn't you just shoot them?"
Kefira was very quiet for a long time. Finally, she said, "I was coming up from behind them, and . . . I-I could not just shoot them . . . in the back . . . with no warning . . . "
Jessie reached out and hugged her. "It's okay. What we did worked and that's what counts."
"Perhaps, but I do not believe that Jonny or Race will be happy with the tactic."
It was Jessie's turn to laugh. "No, probably not. Do me a favor, would ya? Let's not be real quick to tell them how I got the split lip. They sort of have this thing about people hitting me. I'll just kind of imply it happened during the attack on the van and see if I can't keep them from asking too many questions. It will be easier than trying to deal with either one of them going off the deep end."
"Very well," Kefira replied neutrally.
The first of the snowmobiles skidded to a stop near the wreckage and both women could hear Jonny and Hadji calling their names frantically. Jessie sighed, "Well, we probably ought to go let them know we survived. There's just one other thing . . . "
Jessie could see Kefira turn in the darkness to look at her. "Yes?"
Reaching out, Jessie clasped the other girl's arm in a tight grip and said, "Welcome to the family, Kefira. I'll take you at my back anytime!"
Kefira laughed and replied, "And I will take you, as well. We make a good team."
The two rose stiffly. "Darned good thing, too, when you consider our future mates." Then Jessie raised her voice and called out to the growing number of people near the wreckage. "Over here . . ."
She looked back at Hadji and Kefira. Her voice was filled with laughter as she murmured softly to Jonny, "What happened to our dignified, reserved sultan?"
Jonny looked over at Hadji and Kefira and grinned. Hadji's reserved manner was definitely gone. He sat sideways on the large sofa, with his back wedged into the corner where the high back wrapped around to join the arm and his legs were propped up on the seat cushions. Stretched out beside him was Kefira. She was nestled snuggly against his side, tucked neatly between his body and the back of the sofa, and their legs were entwined in a complex tangle. Her head lay on his chest and he had his arms wrapped tightly around her. Occasionally, he would lower his head and whisper something to her. She would reply in the same soft tone, which would generally cause him to tighten his arms and nuzzle her head.
"I think he disappeared about the time the van blew up," he replied softly.
Jessie raised her head and looked up at him. "She really is something special, Jonny. You should have seen her when we were attacked. She was just awesome . . . cool and calm and not the least bit rattled. And she's just crazy about Hadji."
"You should have seen the look on his face when IRIS told us the van was under attack. I've never seen him ride a snowmobile like that. I could hardly keep up with him." As they watched, Hadji reached down and tilted Kefira's head back so she had to look up at him. He said something to her again and they both saw her smile . . .
"I was truly afraid," Hadji said softly.
Kefira smiled up at him. "Afraid of what?"
"That I would never see you again."
"I am not that easy to get rid of. Just ask my father."
"They could have killed you."
She considered that briefly and then said, "Perhaps. But neither Jessie nor I were going to make that easy for them." She reached up and laid a gentle hand on the side of his face. "I am not going disappear from your life, Hadji. Not if you do not wish me to." She contemplated him for a long moment. "I have never known a place like this before . . . or anyone like you. You accept me for who I am and encourage me to do what I feel is right. Everyone does. I am not expected to fit into a mold or to be something that I am not. I feel as though I truly belong here with you. I-I do not think I will ever want to leave . . ."
Hadji wasn't consciously aware of considering the action, but one minute he was looking down at her and the next instant, his lips had fastened on hers and the two of them were locked into a kiss that obliterated awareness of anything else around them. There was no hesitation in his action . . . no questioning whether it was what she wanted. It was as though he knew her mind just as surely as she knew his. Her arms curled around his neck, tightening to draw him even closer as she pressed herself against him willingly. He shifted, taking her in a firmer hold and ran a hand down her back as his lips parted and the kiss deepened abruptly.
"Yeow!" Jonny exclaimed softly. "Go, Hadji!" Jessie giggled and cuddled in even more closely against him. She nuzzled his neck gently and then winced at the pain the action caused. Jonny felt her flinch and leaned back to look down at her in concern. "You need to get Dr. Mason to look at that. How did that happen, anyway?"
"Oh, it's not a biggie. Some ice will take most of the swelling out," she replied evasively. Her father, who had finished on the phone and now moved over to join them, saved her from having to come up with a more specific answer.
"Now those two have gotten started," Race commented in a resigned tone of voice, watching Hadji and Kefira. "Poor Benton . . . awash in a sea of hormones."
"Maybe it will be enough to finally make him sit up and take notice of Dr. Mason," Jonny said.
Race eyed him in surprise. "You've noticed that, huh?"
"I could hardly miss it! Sometimes, my father can be so dense," Jonny said in disgust. "I've thought more than once that someone should go up to him, smack him upside the head, and say, 'Hey, look around you. You're missing a really great thing here!' They would be so good together."
"Don't push it, Jonny," Race warned. "You know that your father has trouble with this sort of thing. Let him move at his own pace."
Jonny sighed and watched as Benton, Barbara, Estella and the Lieutenant appeared in the study doorway. "Yeah, I know," he replied in a low voice. "I won't say anything. I just wish he could find a way to be really happy again."
From the doorway, Barbara called out, "Jessie, you're next."
"It's nothing, Dr. Mason. Really. I'm okay." But Jonny sat up, dislodging her arms from around him and Race reached down and hauled her up out of the chair.
"Go!" her father commanded sharply.
With a martyred sigh, she crossed to join the older woman, who gestured toward the dining room table. "We'll go in here," she said. "I think the light will be better." She gestured at Jonny, waving him back into his chair imperatively. "I think we can manage just fine. You relax and I'll have her back to you in no time." They watched as he reluctantly sank back into the chair. The look Jessie shot Barbara was grateful.
"Thanks."
Barbara turned up the intensity of the light over the table and sat her down directly under it. Tilting her head up and back, she eyed the bruised side of her face and her split lip critically. "Not a problem. For some reason, I rather anticipated that you would avoid telling him, or your father for that matter, that someone has been deliberately beating on you again."
Jessie's eyes widened fractionally, and she sputtered, "What . . . how did you . . ." then she caught herself and changed it to, "What do you mean?"
Barbara smiled at her in amusement as she took a swab and soaked it in disinfectant. "This may hurt, so grit your teeth," she replied and began cleaning her lip. "Child, I have been a doctor for a long time, and I learned very early how to recognize the signs of battering. Someone did this to you deliberately and you're trying very hard to avoid letting the men in your life know about it."
Jessie sighed. "You know, I love my dad and Jonny and Dr. Quest a whole lot, but they really aren't very good at letting me deal with my own problems sometimes. They get this whole macho thing going and don't know when to quit . . . particularly when it comes to someone hitting me."
"Can you really blame them?"
"No, I understand why they're that way, it's just that they have to learn to get on with things. I welcome help when I need it, but I'd rather cope with things myself if I can. It's like the guy tonight . . . Kefira and I dealt with it just fine. But if Dad or Jonny had been there . . ."
"What happened to him?"
"Kefira and I drove him off."
"But not before he got his hands on you."
"Well, no . . ."
Barbara just shook her head. "I swear. This family. You guys could keep me employed for life!"
"You could just become one of us," Jessie said, without thinking. Then her eyes widened and she said, "Oops! I didn't mean . . ."
Something flickered briefly in Barbara Mason's eyes, and then it was gone, covered up by her smile. "Benton and I are just friends, Jessie."
"Is that all you want?" she asked curiously, wondering if the older woman would answer her.
"What we have is comfortable and we're happy with it," Barbara replied evasively.
"That's a little bit like saying that bread and water will keep you alive so you don't need anything else. It may be sufficient, but it's not very satisfying."
Barbara smiled again, and said, "Ice . . . for the swelling. There's not a whole lot more we can do for it. I can leave you some painkillers if you want them. That will be seriously sore in the morning."
Jessie shook her head. "No, it's not that bad. I'll live." As Jessie rose from her chair, Barbara nodded and began putting things back into her medical bag. Suddenly, Jessie laid her hand on the other woman's arm and said urgently, "He needs you, Dr. Mason, just like my dad needed my mom. Don't give up on him. Please."
"Go on, Jessie," Barbara said quietly. "They're waiting for you." After a minute, Jessie turned and walked back into the other room, leaving Barbara to finish picking up.
". . . air evac them out of Rockport tomorrow morning," her father was saying to the Lieutenant as Jessie walked back in the door. "Dr. Mason feels that at least for tonight, they would be better if they weren't moved again."
"They are going to be okay, aren't they?" Jessie asked anxiously. "If it hadn't been for those two guys, I don't think we would have made it."
"Yes," Kefira agreed from her position on the sofa. "They gave us the time to get out of the van and away before any of the men could reach it."
"They will be fine, Jessie," Barbara reassured her, pulling on her coat as she entered the family room. "They both took bullets, but none of them were life-threatening once we got the bleeding stopped. I just don't believe they need to be moved again tonight. Let them rest now and they should be ready to move in the morning." Turning to Benton, she said, "If you need me, you know how to get hold of me."
"You're welcome to spend the night, Barbara. We've got plenty of space. This is the second time in three days we've had to ask you to come out here at a late hour. The least we can do is offer you the chance to stop and catch your breath for a while."
She smiled at him and shook her head, all the time avoiding looking at Jessie. "Thank you, but I think it would be best if I went on home." She glanced at the Lieutenant, who was also donning his coat, and asked Benton," Why don't you let me show the Lieutenant out as I go? It will save you a trip out to the gate."
They all saw Benton hesitate and finally he said, "You've had three late nights in a row, it's cold, and the roads may be questionable. If you won't stay, I really think it would be better if one of us saw to it you got home safely."
Before Barbara could object, the Lieutenant said quietly, "I'll get one of my men to see her home, Dr. Quest."
Barbara finally glanced over at Jessie, who grinned at her with an 'I told you so' look. With a half smile, Barbara thanked the Lieutenant and Race followed them into the entryway to show them out.
"IRIS will monitor your trip to the front gate," Race told her. "You'll need to identify yourself when you get there so she can confirm your voice pattern, but once that's done the gate will open." Race looked over at the government man. "Your people need to be well back from it or it won't open. Also, under no circumstances do you leave her car while you're still on the Compound grounds. She's authorized to be here unaccompanied by a member of the family. You're not. Being out of her proximity will trigger the Compound defenses. Is that clear?" The man nodded.
"We'll be fine, Race," Barbara reassured him. "And I'll see you tomorrow morning. I'm planning to come back out to check on those two as well as oversee their transfer to Camden airfield for transport out to a medical facility. If you run into any trouble at all tonight, just give me a call."
"You really should just stay," Race replied, but Barbara shook her head. Finally, admitting defeat, Race nodded, opened the door, and watched as they got into her car and started up the drive for the main gate.
Race closed the door and turned back toward the family room. He stopped in the doorway, surveying the room. Jessie had returned to her former position in the big chair with Jonny. Hadji and Kefira were still nested together on the sofa like a pair of Siamese twins, although their earlier amorous tendencies seemed to be under control now. Benton and Estella stood by the fireplace, talking in low tones.
Alright," Race said briskly into the silence, "now I want someone to tell me just what the hell went on tonight." He turned to Jessie and frowned at her. "What were you doing out in the middle of nowhere, Jessica?"
Jessie proceeded to explain about the overturned truck, their choices of routes home, and their decision to try the country road in the hope of shortening the trip.
"I never saw any sign of another vehicle following us," Jessie told her father. "I mean, we spotted the government guys right off, but I would have sworn there was no one else around."
"There was that other car back on Mechanic Street," Kefira said thoughtfully.
Jessie looked at her in surprise. "What other car?"
Kefira shook her head and told them what she saw. "I did not think anything else about it, because it disappeared almost right away."
"I didn't see it at all," Jessie said.
"Why didn't you call us when you found out the road was blocked?" Jonny demanded. "We would have come and gotten you."
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the front door. Everyone exchanged alarmed glances, wondering how anyone could have gotten through the defenses and to the front door. Both Jessie and Kefira jumped up, pulling the pistols they still carried and began moving toward the entryway. Race waved them to a stop at the family room door, and said, "IRIS, identify the unknown individual at the front door of the main residence."
"DR. BARBARA MASON HAS RETURNED BRINGING ADMIRAL CHARLES BENNETT WITH HER."
"What is he doing here?" Benton demanded of no one in particular.
"HE ADVISED DR. MASON THAT HE HAD INFORMATION THAT IT WAS VITAL DR. QUEST RECEIVED IMMEDIATELY. HE WAS MOST INSISTANT ABOUT THE URGENCY. DR. MASON AGREED TO ESCORT HIM BACK HERE," IRIS replied.
"Is he armed?" Race asked quietly.
"NO." The sharp knock came again.
"Let him in, Race," Benton said. His voice was even, but he didn't sound happy.
Race moved to the front door with Jessie and Kefira not far behind. He reached out and opened the door, stepping back as he did so. Bennett strode in determinedly, only to stop short just over the threshold as he found himself face to face with two guns that were leveled directly at his head. The matching pair of green and brown eyes that stared at him over the barrels of the weapons did not look friendly.
"You have developed a disturbing habit of turning up in my home immediately after one or more members of my family have been attacked, Admiral," Benton said coldly from behind the two women. "One could begin to wonder why that is." Bennett noticed that Jonny and Hadji were once again flanking their father, although neither appeared to be armed.
Bennett felt Race step up behind him so that he was totally surrounded. Then Race said quietly, "Barbara, would you be good enough to step inside so we can close the door. Long range sniper shots from outside the perimeter fence are extremely unlikely, but there's no point in taking any chances." Barbara stepped inside and Benton watched as she closed the door and leaned against it silently.
"Now, Admiral, would you care to explain what you're doing here?" Benton asked coldly. "I thought I made it clear that you were not welcome in this house without an express invitation."
But Bennett wasn't paying attention to Benton Quest. Rather, he was staring at Jessie Bannon. "How did that happen?" he asked sharply, gesturing at Jessie's injuries.
"As I said, members of my family were attacked again tonight. This time it was targeted against Jessie and Kefira."
"They tried to kill you?" Bennett asked the two of them directly.
The two women exchanged a swift look, and it was Kefira who answered slowly, "No . . . no, I do not believe that was their intent."
"What?" Race exploded, while both Jonny and Hadji began demanding to know what happened.
"QUIET!!" Benton said loudly. "It's time we know exactly what went on tonight. Jessie . . . Kefira . . . put the guns away. Admiral, in the family room. Barbara, I'm sorry, but I really don't think . . ."
"Yes, I know," she interrupted, "you think it's not a good idea that I leave here tonight. Benton I have to go. It's almost eleven and I have to be up by 4:30 because I'm scheduled to do surgery tomorrow morning at 7:00 in Augusta. I can't put it off. I'm already exhausted and if I don't get some rest, I'm going to be putting my patient at serious risk." She could see Benton's concern for her personal welfare warring against his understanding of her professional obligations. Poor Jessie, she thought. No wonder tries to keep things from them. "I will be fine!"
"Alright, but only if you will allow the Lieutenant to have a couple of men see you safely home."
She nodded wearily. "Fair enough. Goodnight, everyone. I'll see you tomorrow morning around 10:30."
As the door closed, Benton turned to Race and said, "Call the Lieutenant and warn him she's coming. Have him get two men to escort her home and ask him to station them outside her house. Just make sure they know she's not to be aware of them. If someone is watching this place, they will have seen that she has the freedom to move around as she sees fit. And they'll have no way of knowing she can't get in as easily as she can leave. I don't want her turning into a target, as well." Race nodded sharply and moved quickly into the family room and picked up the phone. "Admiral," Benton said, gesturing for Bennett to precede him.
When all were seated and Race had finished on the phone, Benton turned to the two women and said, "Alright, let's have it."
For the benefit of Admiral Bennett, they started again, explaining how they found themselves blocked from getting home, how they weighed the options and chose to try the country road, and how they were unexpectedly attacked.
"Initially, I really thought their intent was to kill us," Jessie said. "They hit the front window and fractured it, and at one point, they put a whole barrage into the van. It's why we decided to get away from the van."
"It was not until we had gotten clear and they reached the van that I began to wonder," Kefira added. "They believed we were still in the vehicle. If they had intended to kill us, all they would have needed to do was discharge their weapons into it. But they did not do that. They tried to make us come out . . . threatened to break in if we did not do as they said."
"And later," Jessie added absently, "when the guy asked me for my name . . . it was as though he didn't even know who he had."
"'Asked for your name???'" Jonny exclaimed. "You talked to one of them??"
"Well . . . yeah. Two of them, actually," Jessie said a bit lamely. The string of profanity she privately directed at herself would have turned the air blue.
"And what did they ask?" Race questioned ominously.
"I told you," Jessie said. "He asked me what my name was. It was really strange because . . ."
"How many times did he ask you that question?" Race said tightly, overriding her attempts to move the conversation on to other topics. Jessie watched as her father seemed to see her bruised face for the first time and give serious consideration to the injury.
"I don't know . . . a couple, maybe. Look, Dad, the important thing is that he didn't . . ."
Race rose and came to stand in front of his daughter. "How . . . many . . . times . . . did . . . he . . . ask . . . you . . . that . . . question?" Race gritted.
"Four, okay?" Jessie said, finally losing her temper. She shot to her feet and glared at him. "He asked me four times. And I stalled . . . gave him flip answers. So he hit me. Is that what you want to hear? He took his hand and he slapped me in the face. And the last time, he started to lose his temper and he backhanded me with his fist and busted my lip. Is that what you want to know? Do you feel better now?" She stopped, face-to-face with her father, breathing hard. Her face was flushed and her fury, clear. "I let him hit me and I played for time. Are you going to stand here and tell me you've never done that?"
The silence following that question was pregnant. Bennett looked from father to daughter and came to the conclusion that it was probably just as dangerous to have Jessica Bannon for an enemy, as it was her father. He glanced over at Jonny Quest to see how the young man was taking all of this. For once, Jonny seemed to see the merits of keeping his mouth shut.
"Answer me!" Jessie demanded furiously. "Haven't you done exactly the same thing?"
"That is not the point. No one hits my . . ." Race started to say, but he was cut off mid-sentence.
"Yes, he has," Estella Velasquez-Bannon answered calmly, surprising everyone with her intervention. "In fact, he has allowed himself to be beaten to the point of broken bones and total unconsciousness in an effort to stall for time." Race turned an angry glare on his wife. "Don't give me that look," she commanded quietly. "It's true and you know it. You're acting like an idiot. She handled the situation and came out of it alive . . . exactly the way you taught her . . . so sit down and listen to what she has to say. You're belittling what she accomplished."
Race glared from one to the other for a moment longer, then turned, stalked back to his chair and sat down. Stiffly, he said, "You were trying to make a point?"
Jessie inhaled deeply several times, getting a rein on her temper, before saying, "The point I was trying to make was that he was searching for someone. My identity was important . . . my specific identity . . . not just the fact that I came from here. If that's all he needed to know, the license plates on the van told him that. But there were two of us, and he didn't know which one of us he needed. I think he had a name and he needed to know if the one of us he caught was the one he was sent to get. And I also don't think he would have left the other one alive, once he found the person he was looking for."
The silence that followed that pronouncement was very deep. Finally, Hadji swallowed hard and asked, "Why do you believe that, Jessie? Would it not have made more sense to just take the one of you he wanted, and leave, rather than wasting time searching for the other?"
"Yes, it would," Kefira agreed. "But he did not want witnesses. He killed his own man, rather than leave him behind to answer questions. That man . . . he was the sort that did not willingly leave loose ends."
"You should have called us!" Jonny said again, obviously upset by the thought of Jessie and Kefira's attacker. "We would have come and gotten you. It was crazy for you to take off into the country like that!"
Jessie turned on him, the smoldering embers of her anger at her father rekindling quickly. "Well, I would have, Quest, if you had remembered to put the phone back into the van after you had it out the other day. We didn't have a way to call."
"But I did . . . " he began to protest, but she overrode him.
"Furthermore, what would we have done with the van? We couldn't have left that vehicle sitting on the streets in Camden all night . . . not with QUEST 2 license plates on it. Leaving it parked unattended in town would have been an open invitation to search it. And you know what they would have found."
"What was in that vehicle that was so important that it had to be destroyed?" Kefira asked. "You said that you did not wish to talk about it outside of the Compound, but . . . "
Everyone was silent and, as one, they turned to look at Admiral Bennett. Finally, Benton sighed and said, "It contained a mobile access unit to QuestWorld."
Kefira looked from one to the other. "What is QuestWorld?"
"A fully immersive virtual reality system."
Bennett sat forward abruptly with a gasp. "An operational one?"
Benton nodded. "Yes. Operational and much more sophisticated than anything Payson had even come close to."
"And this was in the van that blew up???"
"No," Hadji replied. "The system is based here. It is an integral part of IRIS. The van simply contained the equipment and software programs to be able to access the system from outlying sites."
"The glowing headsets I saw . . ." Bennett said hoarsely.
" . . . are the visual access units." Benton replied. The scientist gazed grimly at the military man sitting across from him. "I'm telling you this, Admiral, because you need to be aware of just exactly what the stakes are in this little game we've become involved in. But I want you to understand something. Very few people know about this system and it is going to remain that way. I'm not going to make it public and I am certainly not going to turn it over to the government." He gazed at the man for a moment and then continued softly. "You are a man of integrity. From the first days after my wife died, to the time when you put yourself and your career on the line to shield Race from the company when he decided to leave I-1, I've believed that. It's the only reason you were ever allowed to get anywhere near us. And you've kept more secrets about this family than most men know in a lifetime. Well, now you know another one, Admiral. And your silence about it is both vital and expected."
Slowly, Bennett nodded. "No one will know about this from me."
"When we were first attacked, I thought maybe we could hold out there, so I wedged the van into the snow as tightly as I could under the circumstances," Jessie said, taking up her narrative again. "I knew that you guys would be on the way . . . it was just a matter of time. But when I realized that we weren't going to be able to stay with the van, I knew that we couldn't risk having those guys find that equipment. So I activated the self-destruct, and we split. We got as far as we could before our assailants got past the government guys and reached the van. Then I detonated it."
"And the men that attacked you?" Estella asked her daughter.
Jessie sighed regretfully. "Three of them died outright in the blast. Another one was hurt and died of a gunshot later, and the last one got away. That guy . . . the leader . . . he was seriously ticked that we had taken out his men. He told me point blank that he wasn't happy about that." She frowned suddenly. "In fact, he made a point of it . . . he said that he hoped 'that rolling lump of flesh and metal' was worth it."
"Surd," Benton said wearily.
"It can't be Surd," Jessie insisted.
"That's why I'm here," Bennett replied grimly. He turned to Race and said, "You told Leeds yesterday that Jessie knew what happened to Surd . . . actually caused it. Is that true?"
It was Jessie who replied. Nodding, she said, "I put him out of commission . . . permanently."
Bennett looked at the young woman, chilled by the tone in her voice. "What did you do?"
Jessie Bannon stood alone in the middle of the room, as though isolated from the rest of them. She lifted her head and stared Bennett straight in the eyes. "Surd's biggest grudge, and his greatest fear, was being forever locked into that wheelchair . . . immobile and defenseless. Jonny, Hadji and I made a serious mistake several years ago. You remember when you came to my father after they found Surd's nerve gas in Chicago?" Bennett nodded silently. "When Dad and Dr. Quest became trapped in that containment dome, we began searching for Surd." An ironic smile flickered briefly. "You may be a man of integrity, Admiral, but I knew, even then, that we couldn't always trust the things you said. You said Surd was dead . . . we set out to see if that was really true. It wasn't. We were the ones who broke him out of Belle Isle Asylum. And we made a deal with him. He would give us the codes that would free our fathers and disarm the nerve gas, and in return, we'd give him access to a scaled down version of QuestWorld . . . a way for him to be able to move freely again." Jessie sighed deeply. "In retrospect, it was a bad deal. We didn't realize how brilliant he was or how knowledgeable he would become. He's caused unbelievable mayhem since he discovered and began to use the system."
"You mean, he actually stole it?" Bennett asked, horrified.
Jessie shook her head. "No. He was never able to do that. The only one capable of downloading program files is Dr. Quest, so he could never actually steal the programs. I'm not even sure he fully understands QuestWorld's design or how it works. But he was regularly able to find back doors into the system and he was really good at developing applications to run in the QuestWorld environment. He would write programs or implant viruses in it designed to attack one or all of us, and he used it for his own warped research. He even learned how to modify some of the code to make the system lethal . . . die in QuestWorld and you'd die in real life. It was a constant fight to keep him out and to undo the changes he made." Jessie sighed again, looking indescribably tired, and pressed a hand against her bruised face as though it hurt. Jonny immediately rose and went to put an arm around her. It was he that continued the narrative.
"We were 16 when Surd took his final shot. He implanted a brainwashing virus in QuestWorld . . . one that attacked Jessie . . . and he made her try to blow up Race. The attack didn't succeed, but it ended up blowing a hole in one wall of the house. And when that failed, she took the Quest Stream and tried to run him down . . . ran it straight through the house and off the high cliff out near the lighthouse." He hugged her and laid his face against the top of her head for a minute. "Damned near got herself killed," he added, sounding angry.
Sitting in this house, listening to the things this family had been through, it suddenly occurred to Bennett that there was a very good reason that Benton Quest's kids seemed so much older than their years. They had seen more death and destruction in their first 18 years of life than most people saw in their entire lifetime. These are truly remarkable people, he mused to himself.
"When we reached the precipice, she was hanging by one hand from the cliff face, almost unconscious," Benton added grimly. "Race barely got to her in time. We got her back inside, but by the time we did, she had become totally comatose. I had IRIS run a brain scan and found that there was a second personality being forcibly overlaid on her own, and the struggle between the two personalities was killing her. We traced the source back into QuestWorld. And that meant Surd." Benton leaned back wearily in his chair. "Hadji and Race stayed outside QuestWorld to monitor and to try and trace Surd, while Jonny and I went in after her." Benton shuddered. "That was not a pleasant experience."
"He had me locked into my own dreams and aspirations in QuestWorld." Jessie said, taking up the narrative again. "He deluded me into believing that everything that I ever dreamed I wanted or could do was happening. He knew that if he kept me that way long enough, my own personality would degrade sufficiently that I wouldn't be able to survive the exit from QuestWorld. While I was locked away from reality, he attacked the others, Jonny and Dr. Quest with their own deepest fears in QuestWorld, and Dad and Hadji physically with an assault team in the lab. It was that attack that finally caused Dr. Quest and Dad to upgrade the security here to what you see now. It was Jonny who finally reached me . . . made me see what was happening and freed me enough to fight back." "So what did you do to Surd?" Bennett asked.
"I used his deepest fears against him in the same way he did against Jonny and Dr. Quest. I separated his mind from his simulated persona and locked it away in QuestWorld. I made his mind as immobile in QuestWorld as his body is in real life. And it's still locked away in there, unable to make any kind of connection with reality."
"Good Lord," Bennett breathed.
"The QuestWorld that Dr. Quest developed would never have been able to do such a thing," Jessie said coldly. "But the QuestWorld that exists today because of Jeremiah Surd's tampering is capable of it, and I find it appropriate that Surd ends his days in a prison of his own making."
"But you didn't come here for a history lesson, Admiral," Benton said. "You told Barbara you had something important that I needed to know. What is it?"
"I found out late this afternoon that Julia and Lorenzo Canova have escaped from jail."
"When?" Race asked.
"Sometime during the early morning hours on Saturday. The two of them were in separate facilities, practically on opposite sides of the country, and they both ended up breaking out at almost exactly the same time."
"Was the nerve gas used again?" Race asked.
Bennett shook his head. "No, but then neither of those facilities were as highly fortified as Brattleford was. They had outside help, that's for certain, but it wasn't a wholesale slaughter."
Jessie freed herself from Jonny's grasp and began to pace nervously, thinking out loud as she did so. "So, okay. Julia is out and she knows what happened to Surd. And someone helped her escape . . . probably the same people that freed Surd. She wants to release him, but doesn't have the equipment or access any longer. So she sends someone to try to capture me. But he doesn't even know what I look like. That just doesn't make sense."
"It does if it was another last minute operation," Jonny said softly. He was once again seated in his chair, and everyone turned to look at him in surprise. "Let's think about this for a minute," he continued. "We know that there's a weapon out there that someone wants to finish."
"Baxter," Bennett said firmly.
Jonny frowned, that elusive memory nudging at him again. "Okay, the mystery man named Baxter. We also know that someone has freed Surd, probably with the hope that he can complete the weapon's development. But they didn't know his mental state. When they found that out, they wanted to know what was wrong with him, so they got Julia."
"But why not just go after Dr. Quest in the first place?" Bennett demanded. "Why try Surd at all? Anyone who knows this field well enough to know the reputations of these two men, knows that Dr. Quest is the researcher . . . the one who is capable of resolving something like this."
"Because they also know that he would not create or participate in the development of weapons," Hadji said with conviction.
"That, and the fact that Dr. Quest is so hard to get to," Jessie added. She gestured at the people in the room. "We make it extremely difficult for any enemy to get near him." She cocked an eyebrow at Bennett and gave him a half-grin. "A fact you should be fairly well familiar with by this time, Admiral." Having finally worked off her remaining anger, she now settled on the arm of Jonny's chair. "But you know, that implies that there's someone in the middle of this . . . someone we've never seen . . . that knows the field really, really well."
"Well, Elias International is a huge corporation," Benton commented. "I did some research on them when Baxter's name first came up and the man has a huge workforce. It wouldn't surprise me to find that he had someone extremely knowledgeable in the field on his payroll somewhere."
Jessie opened her mouth to make a comment, but stopped, looking concerned. "Hey, Kefira, is something wrong?" The Indian girl was still sitting on the couch, but she was staring blindly at the floor. Her eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, and she seemed totally unaware of her surroundings. Hadji turned to her and laid a hand on her arm. "Kefira?" The girl raised her head to stare at Jessie.
"What did the mobile equipment for QuestWorld look like?" she asked slowly.
"There would have been a laptop computer and a couple of headsets," Jessie replied. "The headsets had one earpiece and an anchor band that goes across the top of the head, and there's a microphone attached. Those were black. The laptop would have been beige. There also would have been a couple of beige cables that plugged into the amplification/ communication console in the van."
Kefira's eyes were huge as she stared back at the other girl. "Jessie, there was nothing like that anywhere in the van."
Jessie turned rigid on the arm of the chair. "There had to be," she insisted. "It was there when we were loading the food this afternoon. I saw it."
"There was nothing like that in there tonight. I would have found it when I was searching for the phone. There was no electronic equipment of any kind in the van."
"Wait a minute," Jonny said sharply. "What do you mean, the phone wasn't in the van? It was in the van. I put it there right before you left this afternoon!"
"It wasn't there at 7:30 this evening when we went looking for it," Jessie whispered, turning pale.
"Neither was the QuestWorld equipment," Kefira insisted.
Bennett looked from one person to another with a sinking feeling. He didn't even need to ask . . . their expressions said it all. Things had definitely taken a turn for the worse.
Portsmouth, Maine
"Don't stand over me. I'm busy. Go over there and wait. They'll let you in when they're ready for you." The brown-haired man turned toward the wall without a word, but stopped again when the other one said, "Oh, and Cahill, you better be prepared. He already knows you don't have the girl with you and he's not in a great mood." The man named Cahill just shrugged, shifting a leather carry-all from one hand to the other. Before he could reply, a section of the wall shifted and slid back revealing a staircase that led downward. Without a word, he turned and began descending to the hidden operations center below.
After a lengthy descent, he reached the bottom of the staircase and a room opened out in front of him. It was perfectly square and about six feet by six feet. There was a door with no handles opposite the staircase. Cahill walked up and stood in front of the door, waiting patiently. He knew that he had been watched, inspected, scanned, and a host of other things ever since he climbed out of the cab a block away from this building. At any time during the journey to reach this place, he could have been killed with little or no effort whatsoever. But this was the final barrier. Once through this door, he would be in the heart of Baxter's east coast operations center. Finally, with a soft sigh of air, the door opened and he walked through into bustling activity. The room before him was huge and yet seemed cramped at the same time. It was filled with workstations, computers, wall-mounted monitors, and a host of other equipment. Large numbers of people worked quietly at desks or moved briskly to and fro, doing a complicated dance in an effort to avoid corridor gridlock. Cahill paused, waiting for someone to acknowledge his presence and point him in the right direction.
"Over here," a familiar voice called to him sharply. Turning, he spotted a man that he suspected was Edgerton. Cahill turned and moved to join the other man and together they moved out of the main room and down a long hallway toward a half-open door. When they reached it, Edgerton stepped back and waved him ahead politely.
"After you," he said with a slight smile. Cahill shrugged nonchalantly and entered without hesitation. He knew there was a chance he might not come out alive . . . Baxter had a reputation for dealing with failure in a very harsh manner. But to refuse to come would have been a certain death sentence. And at least he didn't come empty-handed.
"Well, where is she?" Baxter demanded fiercely, stepping into his path the instant he walked through the door.
"In Maine," Cahill answered calmly. "Back inside the Quest Compound, I assume."
"YOU LET HER GET AWAY???"
Baxter paced like a caged animal while Cahill watched. The force of Baxter's fury was incredible and everyone in the room gave him plenty of space. After a long moment, he replied, "Yes, she got away . . . as did her companion. I'm sorry about that. But you said I was going after a teenaged girl and her companion. You didn't tell me that the two of them would be versed in the use of weapons and would be going armed, nor did you mention that they would have access to high explosives. They caught us unaware. We were able to get rid of the government men easily enough, but . . ." He spread his hands and shrugged.
"High explosives?" Julia said, sitting forward abruptly. "What blew up?"
Cahill set the carry-all down on the table. "The vehicle they were driving. They rigged it to blow and then abandoned it. The explosion took out three of my men and injured a fourth. The government people took out the remaining man. I was the only one that got out."
"What about the injured man?" Edgerton asked, suddenly alarmed.
Cahill looked up at him. "You made it clear when you hired me that there was to be no trail left behind that could lead here. The man was too badly injured to travel and the opposition was closing in rapidly. I had no choice . . . I killed him."
That seemed to mollify Baxter somewhat, however he was still not happy. "That puts us right back where we started," he snarled.
"No, not entirely," Cahill replied, reaching into the carry-all.
"What do you mean?"
"We managed to get inside the van and search it without being spotted before the targets left to go home. I think we managed to get what the Bannon girl blew up the van to try to protect." Cahill pulled out a beige laptop and two slightly peculiar-looking headsets. He also produced a cellular phone. He laid all four items on the table in front of him. Before anyone else could move, Julia snatched up one of the headsets and turned it over and over in her hands, staring at it. Then she pulled the laptop across the table, flipped it open and powered it up. After working at it for a few moments, she began to smile in satisfaction.
"What have we got?" Edgerton asked her.
"The answer to almost all of our problems," she purred, continuing to work at the computer in front of her. Edgerton came over and perched on the table next to her, peering down to see what she was working at. Baxter and the others came around behind the two to join them. As they all watched, the screen went blank briefly and then a stylized Quest logo appeared. It was followed almost immediately by a popup box that stated, "Input access authorization codes."
"But we don't have the access codes," Edgerton said with disgust. "It's probably going to take us forever to break the encryption."
Julia shook her head. "You won't break it, I can promise you. If there's anything Quest is good at, it's protecting this sort of stuff. He has a foolproof system. The only way to get into this is to have an in to start with."
"Then what good does it do us?" he demanded irritably.
"Nathaniel, my love," she said, running a soft hand down his leg, "we already have the 'in'."
"What is that?" Baxter demanded.
"The answers to your prayers," Julia replied, turning back to him. She nodded at the computer. "That is the gateway to Benton Quest's virtual reality system. You wanted answers to fix your weapon? I can give you something infinitely better . . . a system so powerful that it makes that weapon look like a child's toy. All we need to do is get into it and free Jeremiah. He understands it and is capable of using it to it's fullest. Anything you want, he can give you."
"So how do we get in?" Baxter asked. "You say we can't break the encryption, and Quest certainly isn't going to let us into the system . . ."
"Ah, but you see, he doesn't have to, because his kids already have. They let Jeremiah in several years ago, and once inside, he imbedded a subroutine in the programming that would provide him with a doorway. All we need to do is activate it."
"And how do we do that?" Edgerton asked.
Julia turned and smiled at him in a way that caused his blood pressure to rise sharply. "Didn't you say that you have someone close to the Quests that might come in handy?"
Edgerton nodded. "The Hamilton girl."
"I'll give you an access string. Type it into any computer in the Quest Compound and the latent program will recognize it and activate. Then all we need to do is come back here, enter Jeremiah's code into that screen, and we're in."
Baxter turned and looked at Cahill. "You. Back to Maine . . . now. Find Francesca Hamilton and pass on this message . . . "