Manipulation
by Time Guardian

Chapter 4 - Old wounds

When Race left the Reagan National airport later that afternoon, he rented
a car and quickly made his way to the marble and stone building that was
Intelligence-one headquarters.

He felt a pang of nostalgia as he entered the building. It had been
five years since he had set foot in the building, but not much had
changed.

After being buzzed through lobby security, he went into the heart of the
building. The maze of cubicles was still there, along with the greenery
draped across each one. The higher ups always claimed it gave the office
atmosphere, when actually all it did was set off the allergies of about
half a dozen agents.

Race reached the elevator, and punched the button for the top floor.
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Phil Corvin leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the ceiling
in his office for the tneth time in as many hours. Becoming the new head
of I-one had its perks, but waiting for feedback from the
critical missions had to rank as one of the most nerve-wracking parts
of the job.

The buzzing of the intercom broke him out of his reverie. He sat up and
flicked a switch near his desk. "Yes?"

"Race Bannon to see you, sir," his secretary announced from the intercom,
"Should I send him in?"

"Go ahead."

Corvin looked up as his door opened, and a familiar person came into the
room.

"Race, good to see you. Take a seat."
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Race stepped into the massive office, and could barely hold back his
surprise.

His sources had told him that Phil had done well, but judging by the
wood paneling, exotic plants, and the Mahogany desk, Phil was doing
very well.

He took a seat in the cushioned chair that Phil indicated.

"So, Race, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Corvin asked
lightly, "has one of your bounties done something that merits I-one's
attention?"

Race crossed his arms, "I think you know why I am here, Corvin."

"Has your time away from us made you lose all of your charm, Bannon?"
he replied mildly.

"Not when I think the investigation into Jonathon Quest's death was
mishandled," Race stated cooly. From his pocket, he extracted a data
disc and handed it ot him. "Doctor Quest has recieved new evidence
indicating that he is alive."

"I can assure you all avenue's were considered and explored that were
concerning young Quest's demise. We even had the dart that hit you
analyzed, but nothing panned out," Corvin replied, pocketing the
disc. "But I'll have our boys give this a once over as a favor to
you."

Race bit back a retort. He knew to expect a chilly reception, but
at this rate he felt like he would freeze to death.

"So how's life as the boss?" Race asked idly.

"It has it's ups and downs," he replied simply, "How bout you? The life of a
bounty hunter exciting?"

Race shrugged. "It pays the bills."

Corvin leaned across the desk at him. "Come back to us, Bannon. We never
blamed you for 'that incident', and besides, we could use all of the manpower
we can get."

Race flinched in anger. To have an event like that reduced to 'that incident'-

He stood, then leaned over until he was mere inches from Corvin. "No can do,
Corvin. I made a promise to a friend that I intend to keep. I will get to the
bottom of 'that incident,' and right now that is my only priority."

"That didn't seem to be your priority five years ago when you quit, Bannon,"
Corvin quietly replied.

Race fought to keep his temper in check. "Things change. What about Dr. Quest,
Corvin? I noticed he doesn't seem to be a priority anymore."

"Not my call, Bannon. The higher-ups got tired of him coming to us constantly
over the past five years begging us to reopen his son's case. We still keep
an eye on him every so often to make sure his work isn't being affected."

That did it. Race grabbed the front of Corvin's shirt and pulled him forward.

"For your information, someone tried to assassinate Dr. Quest last night, and
all you stuffed shirts seem to care about is whether or not he is making the
latest war toy for you guys!"

Phil Corvin stared at him in stony silence until it was broken by the ringing
of his office phone.

His voice was cold and even. "Race, I have to get that if you don't mind. Now
get out before I have you thrown out."

"We will be in touch," Race replied simply. He released his hold on Corvin's
shirt, then walked out of his office and slammed the door.

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More revealed, but I'm not ready to give away everything yet. ;)

Till later!

Time Guardian