Chapter 5: Before It's Too Late

Patricia was out in the hall when Jonny exited the room. He ignored her and just walked back the way they had come. Marcus opened the door and gestured him in, closing it behind him. Crandall was scary. Very scary. He felt pathetic. Jessie and Hadji wouldn't be scared, but then neither of them would have fallen off the side of the house.

He sat down on the bed and picked up the plate with the chicken. It still looked and smelled good, but he felt sick to his stomach. Putting it back on the bedside table, he waited, hoping that Marcus would really bring Bandit. When the door opened, the small dog erupted into the room with a flurry of barks and growls directed toward the guard.

Jonny patted the bed next to him and called, "Bandit! Come!"

Bandit jumped up on the bed next to him and started licking his face. Jonny scratched his ears and stroked his back, glad that his friend was okay, but wishing they'd left him behind where he was safe. He curled up around his dog and fell asleep.


Race gazed around the deck of the boat. The technicians were all busy inside, but they'd cleared them to look over the topside of the vessel. Night had fallen, but the area was lit with flood lights.

They had watched all the video tapes and Emma Brown was right. They just looked like college kids. Two of the girls and one of the boys were blond, one boy looked Asian, and the other two kids had brown hair. There was nothing remarkable about any of them. Except that they were unfailingly polite. Both Emma and Joseph had commented on it as they watched, and the video tapes bore out their statements.

Under the circumstances, one might expect a group of kids to be a little loud, a little excited, perhaps a little more interested in one another than they should be in public, but there was none of that. It made him distinctly nervous, reminding him of some cults he'd run into.

Race bent and peered at the wiring to the running lights. He called Joseph over and pointed. "When was the last time this boat had any of this wiring replaced?" he asked.

"Don't recall that it ever has," Joseph said. "I can check the repair logs if you want." Race nodded, and the man started to turn away. He paused, though, and added, "That's odd."

"What?"

"Those aren't the lights it had before. I didn't really notice when I checked it in, but those are new." He glanced around at the other running lights. "They're all new. I've never seen them before."

Corvin walked up to them. "Have you noticed something, Race?" he asked.

"This wiring is brand new," he said. "And look at that light fixture. It's shiny, hasn't been dulled by use or the elements."

"I never put these on," Joseph said. "And I do all the maintenance work, so it would have had to be me."

"What was wrong with the radio?" Corvin asked.

"It looked there was some kind of fire inside it. All the circuitry was fused."

"The EM pulse," Race said. "They replaced the wiring and the lights, but they probably figured he'd notice if the radio was changed."

"And it would be believable that they'd destroyed the radio," Corvin added.

"Sir?" called one of the forensic technicians. "You've got to see this." Race and Corvin hurried across to join her as she led them down the narrow companionway along the side of the cabins. "We were going through one of the rooms and we found some fragments of denim with blood on them, so once they'd dusted for prints, I sprayed some luminol on the walls and floor, just to be safe."

"And you found something?" Race asked.

"You've got to see it. It's ingenious, but kind of creepy," she added, shuddering. "In here."

Race followed Corvin into the room and saw what she meant right away. Luminol is an agent that can reveal the presence of bloodstains that have been scrubbed away by soap and water, sometimes even when they've been painted over. Low on the wall by the bed, there were two bloodstains, clearly outlined by the luminol. A letter "B" and a letter "J". Benton had been here for certain, with Jonny, and he'd known that a bloodstain would show it.

He left the cabin to get some fresh air. Benton had to have been desperate to use that tactic, and the knowledge that Jonny had been bleeding enough to make it possible made Race want to break things. Preferably the neck of whoever'd made the boy bleed in the first place.

Corvin joined him on the deck a few moments later. "Well, that together with the wiring and the radio makes it certain that this was the boat used to kidnap them."

"I'd better get to tracking those kids. Emma gave me the license number of the car they drove here in, so I've got somewhere to start."

"You can't start just yet," Corvin said. "Unless -" He paused, watching a car pull into the well lit parking lot. "I think that may be your liaison."

"My what?" Race exclaimed.

"I got permission for you to carry out an investigation here, but I had to agree to let them assign you one of their agents as a liaison." Race opened his mouth to object, but Corvin held up a hand. "It makes sense, Race. You have no authority to demand that people answer your questions up here. Your liaison will." The no nonsense tone Phil was using made it clear that he would brook no complaints. Race sighed, hoping he wasn't about to be saddled with a liability.

The car was a dark green Ford Escort, neither new nor old, but well kept. The door opened and Race felt his eyebrows climb. The woman, like her car, was neither young nor old, but she was definitely well kept. Her hair was chestnut brown, cut in a short, sensible style that framed her face. She wore dark blue jeans and a yellow short sleeved top.

He leaned against the railing. "Is that my liaison?" he asked.

"I was just told one would be showing up." They watched as she pulled a badge out of a back pocket and showed it to the guard at the bottom the ramp. "I'd guess so, though, from the looks of that." The guard pointed to them and let her through.

She walked up to them and addressed Corvin. "Are you Director Corvin of I-1?"

"Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Lt. Diana McCormick. Chief Kiley sent me, said you needed a liaison officer to work with one of your agents." She glanced around. "So, which of your agents am I going to have to babysit?"

Race bristled. "Babysit?! I don't have time for this, Corvin."

"Calm down, Race," Corvin said. "Lt. McCormick, this is Agent Race Bannon. I'll leave it to him to explain the mission. I'm going below to see if they've located anything else." With that Phil left. Race glared after him, then transferred his glare to the woman who stood before him.

"So what's this mission, Agent Bannon?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"You ever heard of Dr. Benton Quest?"

"Who hasn't?"

"Well, he and his twelve-year-old son Jonny were kidnapped from their home yesterday," he said in a harsh voice. "Jonny was severely injured in the process. We know he was injured because we found his blood all over the kitchen." Her eyes widened. "We traced them to this boat and need to track the people who rented it. You up to that, Lieutenant? Or is babysitting your forte?"

She blinked. "I guess I deserved that. I'm sorry, I thought this was some bail jumper or bench warrant thing. Kiley didn't say anything about kidnapping."

He gazed at her silently for a moment, and she had the grace to look abashed. Finally, he said, "I've got the license plate number off their car and copies of the documents they showed to rent the boat. God knows if they're forged, but even that could tell us something."

"Can I see them?" she asked, and he handed her the file reluctantly. "How did they get hold of them? I'd heard that the Quests had some kind of amazing security expert put together their defenses."

Race took in a deep breath and sighed. "They used an EM pulse. The security system had enough shielding to survive a low level EM pulse, but they one they used was so strong it melted the wiring in the walls." Her eyebrows rose. He sighed, and shook his head. "I should have come up with stronger shielding for the main systems."

"You're Dr. Quest's security man?"

He gave her a tight smile. "I'm Jonny's bodyguard. I was gone yesterday taking my daughter to visit her mother in Argentina."

"No doubt they were waiting for just such an opportunity," she said.

He shrugged. "Corvin called to find out who owned the car. Apparently, it's a rental, and it hasn't been returned yet. Rapid Rentals."

"There are Rapid Rentals offices all over this part of Canada," she said. "They could return it almost anywhere."

"Yeah," Race said glumly. "We've got an alert out to the individual offices, so we should get a call whenever it's returned."

"But that could be three days from now in Manitoba for all we know."

"Right."

"Have you alerted the police?" she asked. "They could keep an eye out for that car on the roads."

"A bulletin was sent out. Your traffic police should be watching for them."

She was glancing through the file. "They're not exactly going to stand out, are they?" she commented. "Let's get these scanned so we can check them against our files." Flipping the file shut, she looked at him. "So, has there been a ransom demand?"

"No. No demands at all."

"That's not good. Are you sure they're not -"

"I doubt it," he said sharply, cutting off the word he didn't want to hear. "They stitched Jonny's leg. That doesn't strike me as a prelude to murder."

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I guess not. But doesn't Dr. Quest have a lot of enemies?"

"Let's focus on finding them, all right?" The image of Jonny, injured and in some bastard's hands, made Race's blood boil. He didn't want to think about it.

"So what's our first step?" she asked.

"Let's get you a sight of the video footage. That's a darn sight better for recognizing someone than photocopied ID pictures." She nodded and he took her back up to the house.

Zin would want to kill them personally, he couldn't help thinking. There were half a dozen people he could think of offhand who might feel that way, some of whom had specific grudges against Jonny as well as Benton. He tried to put such negative thoughts out of his mind, but they kept turning over and over again, calling up horrifying pictures. Jonny and Benton facing a firing squad. Jonny being forced to watch while Bandit was killed. Benton being forced to watch while Jonny was killed. Jonny being tortured to force his father to do something. It just went on and on.


He had to find them. He had to find them before it was too late.

Jonny woke up to the sound of Bandit growling. He looked up and saw Patricia standing nearby with a plate. "Aw, hush up, Bandit. It's just a minion."

Bandit looked up at him, cocking an ear. Then he started barking at Patricia so intensely that he started bouncing backwards on the bed. Jonny groaned. "Quiet, Bandit. My head hurts." Bandit stopped barking abruptly and trotted up to him and started licking his face. "What do you want?" he asked Patricia.

"I brought you some fresh dinner, and some food and water for your dog."

"I'm not hungry," Jonny said, glaring up at her. His head hurt and he felt really hot. "Why don't you go away and leave me alone?"

She put the plate down, and he noticed that the other two plates were gone. When did she do that? "Your father would want you to eat."

"Leave my father out of this!" he growled, rolling over to sit up. His leg ached.

"You seem kind of pale," she said, leaning forward to feel his forehead. He leaned back and Bandit started barking again. She persevered against both their objections and managed to put the back of her hand against his cheek. He shoved her away, but she said, "You're so cold."

"So what?" he said. "It's not like you care or anything." He blinked, feeling kind of dizzy.

"Actually, I do care. We need to get you into bed, young man." She looked down at his bandage, which he had been lying on, and her lips tightened. "But first I need to clean up that leg."

Jonny looked down and saw Bandit sniffing a dark brownish red stain on the bed. "I think I messed up the bedspread," he said.

Her eyes widened and she said, "I'll be back in a moment. Don't move."

He watched her go, and then peeled back the bandage. No wonder his leg hurt. Three of the stitches had popped out. He touched them curiously, but pulled his hand back quickly. They were still attached on one side, but they'd ripped through the skin on the other side, and blood was oozing from that as well as the original injury.

Bandit came up close to his leg to sniff it, but Jonny grabbed him and held him in his arms. At first the little dog squirmed, but then he quieted and leaned against him. Jonny wanted to go home, but only if Bandit and his dad went with him. These people were complete wackos.

Patricia came back with Dr. Pascale close behind her. The doctor took a look at Jonny's leg, and said, "What have we been doing, young man?"

Jonny glared up at her. "I don't know what you've been doing, but I've been getting dragged around by Mr. Crandall," he said.

"Oh, I see," she said calmly. "Let's get that stitched up again."

"Why bother?" Jonny demanded. "He'll just do it again."

Bandit started growling as Dr. Pascale reached toward him to shift him into a better position to work on him in. "Patricia, please take the dog into the bathroom and shut him in."

"I wouldn't, not unless you want to get bitten," Jonny said as Patricia reached out. Dr. Pascale backed up as he slid off the bed and limped over to the bathroom door. His legs felt shaky, and his headache doubled when he stood up, but he didn't want either of them touching Bandit if he could help it. "I'm sorry, boy," he said as he put him down in the bathroom and shut the door. The little dog started barking loudly. Jonny stood back up straight, but the room seemed to be at an odd angle.

Patricia came up and put an arm around his shoulder to help him back over to the bed. He wanted to pull away, but he didn't have the energy. That thought alarmed him. Why did he feel so awful? Patricia got him sitting on the bed and Dr. Pascale said, "We've got to get him to the infirmary. Go get the wheelchair."

"Yes, doctor," Patricia said and hurried out.

Jonny glared at the doctor. "Why did you want to shut Bandit up if you were going to take me out of here?"

"I don't want him loose in the facility," she said. "Why haven't you eaten your dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"You didn't eat your lunch. You need food to heal."

Jonny just sat there. His leg hurt, his head hurt, and he was feeling nauseated again. Bandit was digging at the bottom of the door, trying to get out. Jonny sighed. Why couldn't they just let him sleep? Dr. Pascale squatted down in front of him and grabbed his chin, looking into his eyes. "Stick your tongue out, boy," she said. He ignored her. She picked up his hand and looked at his fingernails. "What exactly happened?" He didn't say anything.

Patricia came in the door with the wheelchair and they lifted him into it despite his protests that he didn't want to go anywhere. Dr. Pascale flipped the covers back on the bed and let out a very rude word. The stain under the bedspread was wider. Jonny wondered how long he'd been bleeding, but before he got much farther than that thought, they started moving rapidly back to the infirmary.

Things got very dreamy after that for a while, and Jonny wasn't sure if he fell asleep or what. He dimly heard Dr. Pascale asking hurried questions about the treatment he'd received at the house. Then things got really fuzzy, and he wondered if he was going to die.


Benton had just picked up the file on the nerve gas project when the door opened again. He looked up at the clock. It was closing fast on eleven.

"Sir, Dr. Pascale wants to speak with you," Marcus said. "Urgently."

Crandall looked irritated, but he stood up and went out. Benton tried to tell himself that what the doctor wanted to talk to him about didn't have to be about Jonny. Crandall slammed the door hard enough that it shivered. The other guard had stepped into the restroom a few minutes before, so Benton got up and listened at the door.

"Mr. Crandall, I want you to tell me exactly what you did to that boy to persuade his father to behave," the doctor said in an irate voice.

"Is that all you want?" Crandall demanded. "This can wait for me to finish talking to the boy's father."

"No, it can't."

"I just brought him in here. That's all."

"No, it's not."

"Well, I dug into his stitches a little to make sure he understood the situation fully." Benton ground his teeth. "I couldn't have hurt him that much, he managed to walk in here and out again."

"You think not?" she snapped. "Let me let you in on a little secret, Crandall, the boy will be no good as a hostage if he's dead." Benton felt himself stop breathing.

"What are you talking about?"

"You caused three stitches to pop out, further tearing the skin and reopening part of the wound. He lay there on the bed bleeding. If Patricia hadn't insisted on trying to get him to eat his dinner, he might have bled to death before morning. I've had to give him a transfusion, rather thoroughly depleting my store of AB negative blood."

"I didn't know he was bleeding."

"Well, don't touch his leg again, Crandall."

"You have no right -"

"The Corporate Handbook states clearly that I am in charge if something like this comes up. I can have you removed from this project altogether. For the good of the company." Corporate handbook? Benton thought incredulously.

He opened the door and took two steps into the room. Marcus raised the rifle, so he stopped, but he looked back and forth between the two, Crandall and Pascale. "What does your corporate handbook tell you to do if you kill my son?"

Crandall raised an eyebrow. "Either let you go, kill you, or obtain a new hostage. I already have people in place near the Indian boy's camp."