Chapter 12: Race's Race
At seven o'clock in the morning, Race's phone rang shrilly, causing both Hadji and Race to start awake. Race reached down to where he'd dropped his pants on the floor and fumbled the cell phone out of his pocket. "Bannon," he said gruffly.
"We have a possible lead, Race," Corvin said without preamble.
"A lead? What?"
"Can you and your team be out at the airstrip at Truman and ready to go in an hour?"
"I'm sure we'll manage, sir. What's the lead?"
"The airplane landed on an island in the Carribean. Get moving." Race was on his feet and fumbling his pants on before Phil hung up his phone.
"Hadji, get dressed and ready to go." He hit the speed dial for Estella's phone while he pulled his shirt on and buttoned it up.
"Hello?" she said brightly. Estella always had been good at mornings, Race pondered disgustedly.
"We need to get going. Corvin just called with a lead and we need to be back at the airstrip in an hour."
"Meet you downstairs in ten minutes."
True to her word, Estella, Diana and Jessie were in the parking lot when he and Hadji finished the checking out. They all piled into the vehicle with Diana driving again, since she knew the area better than he did. Race found himself wishing that this car could sprout wings.
Benton couldn't sleep. He'd managed to lull Jonny off to sleep with one of the lullabies his mother used to sing to him, but he himself sat awake, unable to relax enough for rest. He found himself wishing that the plane would crash into the ocean and forced his mind elsewhere, very alarmed by the nihilistic turn his thoughts were taking. Death wasn't preferable. Alive, they could still be rescued. Dead, and it – well, it didn't bear thinking about.
He had the lights dimmed so Jonny could sleep, which meant he couldn't read. Benton started to contemplate the least alarming of the projects he had before him, the miniaturization of night vision technology, and tried to come up with alternate ways to go about it that George hadn't tried.
No one had said how long this flight would be, and, as he had no clear idea of where their starting point was, he couldn't begin to guess where they were headed. It could be the North Pole, it could be Borneo. He had no facts with which to hypothesize. He wished he had a compass in this watch, but, snorting, he reflected that if he'd had a compass, it would likely have been confiscated by now.
The door opened a crack, letting a sliver of light in. Benton sat up straighter. "Yes?" he said quietly. "Who is it?"
The door opened wider and the white haired man who'd seemed to be in charge of the original capture walked in, shutting it behind him. "My name is Martin, Dr. Quest. I have some questions." Bandit rolled over suddenly and got to his feet, growling low in his throat.
Benton thumped his head back against the wall, dropping his hand onto Bandit's head to quiet him. "What do you want to know?" he asked.
"I'm here to try and understand what's been happening. What I've heard is exceptionally alarming."
"What have you heard?" Benton asked.
"Patricia came to me and told me that Crandall is punishing your son even when you are doing what you're told. Is that so?"
Benton clenched his teeth. "Every time he 'punished' Jonny, I was cooperating, or trying to cooperate. Every time!" He shook his head. "What of it?"
"That's not the way things are done."
"Somebody evidently forgot to tell Crandall that." Benton drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "I keep hearing that this isn't they way things are supposed to work, but all I can see is that my son has already nearly died once because Crandall is a sadist who enjoys torturing small children."
Martin shook his head. "This has to stop."
"I agree," Benton said. "Why don't you send us home? Then it will most definitely stop."
"If I did that, the corporation would only come after you again. It would be counterproductive." He shook his head. "No, the key is to make the best of the situation, here in the corporation."
Jonny stirred, not really waking. He shifted so that he had his arms around Benton's waist, and his head in his lap. Benton rested his hand on the golden hair. "I see. The trouble is, I don't think Crandall will allow that. I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do that will satisfy the man. That no matter what I do, he'll just keep on hurting Jonny." Benton closed his eyes and tried desperately to master himself. "In two days, he's dug his fingers into the stitches in Jonny's leg, popping three of them and re-opening the wound." Martin's eyes widened, and Benton realized the other man hadn't known the details of that event. "Incidentally, I wasn't even present for that. Crandall said it was to make Jonny take the situation seriously. Well, he takes it seriously now, all right; he almost bled to death."
Martin was shaking his head. "That is unbelievably unacceptable behavior."
"Oh, but that's just the beginning," he said, keeping his voice as quiet as his intense emotions would permit him to. "Immediately after that, he dragged Jonny down the hallway with his arm held so high that he couldn't stand or walk properly. There are black bruises on his upper arm in the shape of a handprint! Meanwhile, the boy is starting to bleed, and nobody notices." Benton felt his outrage dwindle. "Not even me." The guilt he felt washed over him, and he lowered his head, looking down at his son's head. Hot tears started trickling down his face. He brought a hand up, as if mopping his brow, to conceal the emotional reaction.
"I will be making a full report at headquarters. This will be stopped."
Benton let out a low, mirthless laugh. "Right. But will it be in time? It will be no consolation to me and no help to you if you stop him after Jonny's –" He couldn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to say it aloud, and he certainly didn't want Jonny to hear.
"I can't take direct action. I have no authority in this area."
Benton lowered his voice even further. "You could call Jonny's bodyguard. Race Bannon, I'm sure you know who he is."
"That would be going against the corporation," Martin said. "I couldn't do that. I have children of my own." Benton blinked at that information. "I will take this information back to headquarters and they will deal with it."
Benton shook his head. "You might as well pronounce a death sentence on his head." Martin pursed his lips, looking dubious. "It's a corporation. Run, presumably, by a board?" Martin nodded and Benton grimaced. "Bureaucracy, the enemy of decisive action."
"They do take decisive action when it's called for."
"By majority vote," Benton said colorlessly. "On your head be it, Martin. If you will do nothing, on your head be it." He leaned closer to the man. "If Jonny is killed, do you think they'll send you or someone else after my other son?"
Martin's brows knit. "What other son?"
"Crandall knows about him," Benton said wryly. "Hadji, my adopted son. Who is out there right now, not certain what has happened to his father and his brother. It's cruel beyond –" Benton broke off, trying not to think too hard about Hadji, who was undoubtedly contemplating some insane and risky course of action at that very moment. "And I have been assured that if Jonny dies, the corporation will fetch Hadji to ensure my cooperation."
There was a long moment of silence, then Martin stood up. "I will take care of this, Dr. Quest."
Benton leaned his head back against the wall and ignored his assurances. Martin left, and Benton found himself unable to think past the image of Crandall beating Jonny senseless and beyond. And then starting on Hadji. He couldn't make up his mind which would irritate Crandall more. Jonny's defiant nature, or Hadji's placid patience.
They landed in Washington at 9:20 a.m., and Corvin met them at the plane with a van. Quickly unloading their luggage and equipment, they piled into the van with Phil driving and Race riding shotgun. "Where are we headed?" he asked.
"It's a little island called Isla Flora."
"Hot damn!" Race exclaimed. "When do we leave?"
"Almost immediately," Corvin said. "But restrain yourself. They've almost certainly been moved, assuming they were there in the first place."
"What do you mean?" Hadji asked from the back seat. Race could see from his expression that Phil hadn't considered the boy's presence when he'd started speaking.
"We have seen evidence of a mass departure."
"Have they somehow been warned of our pursuit?" Hadji asked.
Phil flushed, and Race could see the anger in his face. "It was leaked to the press that Dr. Quest's kidnappers were arrested in Canada."
Race stared out the windshield blankly, furious that some news hound had let the warning through. They might have reached them today but for that. "What's the plan?"
"I've got two squads of special forces operatives ready and waiting on a C-130 the other side of the airfield. All that has to be determined now is who is going."
Race raised his eyebrows. Trust Phil to find the most direct way of addressing a problem. An over-abundance of tact wasn't one of Corvin's failings.
"Won't we all be going" Jessie asked.
Race turned in his seat and looked at the hopeful faces of the two kids behind him. "I'm afraid not, Ponchita."
"Why not?" she demanded. Hadji was silent, but Race knew that he was just letting Jessie front for him till he knew what he was going to have to argue against. They pulled to a stop near the C-130 where Race could see that the loading of supplies and equipment was just finishing up. Corvin turned around to face the kids himself.
"It's a basic problem of how to apply our forces most effectively, Jessie," he said. "You and Hadji have made a bigger dent in tracking the corporation in twelve hours than my folks have in ten years."
Jessie glared, but it was Hadji who spoke. "You do not wish to put us in danger," he said simply.
"True enough."
"There's more to it, though, Hadji," Race said. "These people operate by threatening the children of those they want to control." Estella's eyes widened and Race saw the look she threw at Jessie. "They've already shown interest in you, and we don't want you any closer to them than is strictly necessary."
Hadji looked at the troops that were boarding the plane. "I will stay behind," he said thoughtfully. "We do not usually have soldiers, and certainly not so many."
Race smiled and reached out to grip his shoulder. Then he got out of the van and went to the back to offload his and Diana's bags. Jessie scrambled out and followed him impatiently. "What about me?" she asked.
"I need you to stay with Hadji, Jess." Her brows knit together, and he could see that she was torn in two directions. On the one hand, she wanted to help save Jonny and Dr. Quest, but clearly she knew that Hadji needed her, too. "He's scared and he's lonely, and he doesn't know Phil all that well."
"I know, but . . ."
"And I haven't been able to give him the attention he needs right now. Please, Jessie, he needs your support."
Jessie nodded, though he could tell it was frustrating for her to have to stay behind. He understood her reaction better than she knew. Putting hand on the top of her head, he grinned down at her. "I'm depending on you, Ponchita, to keep his spirits up." She grinned up at him half-heartedly. "And to break into as many government systems as you can to get all the information we're going to need." Her grin widened and he winked at her. Then he lifted the bags and turned to find a young staff sergeant behind him. The boy reached out for the bags, and Race let him take them.
Diana was talking to Corvin, and Estella had walked over to put an arm around Jessie's shoulders, giving Race a grateful look. He was going to have to have a chat with Estella about Jessie sometime soon, but not right now. Hadji was standing staring at the plane disconsolately.
Race walked over and stood beside him. After a moment, Hadji said, "I understand the reasoning for why you are leaving me behind." He sighed. "It does not make it any easier, however."
"I know." He put his hand on Hadji's back. "I'm worried about them, too, Hadj."
The boy leaned in against his side and Race put his arm around his shoulders. "I do not like seeing you go off without me, either, Race," he said quietly. "Not that I am worried," he added quickly. "I know you can take care of yourself."
Race squeezed Hadji's shoulders. "I gotta do this, Hadji."
He nodded. "I will find whatever information I can. And I will keep Jessie out of trouble."
Race gave him a big hug. "And stay out of trouble yourself, young man. I don't want to come back and find Corvin in a nervous collapse."
Hadji gave him a weak grin. "I will try." Race looked up to see Estella watching him. She gave him a reassuring smile and a look that told him plain as day that she would watch over both of the kids while he was gone. He gave her an answering grin, which faded as a thought occurred to him.
In Benton's absence, he was Jonny and Hadji's legal guardian, a fact that made I-1 none too happy. The department, with the possible exception of Phil Corvin, considered it a conflict of interest. No doubt it was, but neither he nor Benton gave a rat's ass. However, should something happen to him, and they failed to retrieve Benton, Hadji would have no declared guardian. Giving Hadji's shoulders another squeeze, he walked over to Phil.
"Have you got any paper?" he asked. Blinking, Phil nodded and pulled a briefcase out of the van. Race opened it on the back of a nearby jeep and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. Scribbling something out rapidly, he called out, "Estella?"
Leaving Jessie with Hadji, she walked over to Race's side. "What is it, Race? I could see from your expression a minute ago that you'd thought of something alarming."
"Does this work for you, Estella?" he asked, handing her the paper.
She scanned it quickly and lifted her eyebrow. "How can you grant me Hadji's guardianship, Race?"
"What?" Phil said, immediately looking at the document over Estella's shoulder. Annoyed by his proximity, Estella handed the page to him. "He's both boys' guardian in Benton's absence," he said as he looked it over.
"Or in the event of his death," Race said. Estella's eyebrows rose.
"And you want me –"
"That's a point I hadn't considered," Race said suddenly, snatching the paper from Phil. Swiftly, he wrote an addendum on the bottom to include Jonny, then signed and dated it. "Are you willing, Stell?" he asked.
"Of course, but would Dr. Quest –"
"They know you, Stell, and they'd be with Jessie." He shrugged. "And they don't really have anybody else besides Doug, and he's seventy-four."
"Right," Estella said, then bent to sign the paper. Race took it from her and handed it on to Phil.
"You'd better sign it, too, as a witness." Sighing, Phil did so and tucked it away.
"Don't make me need to pull this out, Race," he said warningly. Estella nodded fervently.
"It's always better to be prepared, because sure as shooting, the minute you're not is when you needed to be." Phil grimaced, but didn't disagree. "So, who's in charge of this ball game?" he asked.
"You are," Corvin said much to Race's surprise. "Though I'd advise you to defer to Major Norton when it comes to deployment. After all, he knows these boys and girls better than you do."
"Of course. But I have the final say when it comes to things like shooting at the bad guys, right?"
"Right."
"And Norton knows it?"
"Indeed he does," said a voice behind him. Race turned to see a blond man of about thirty-five, short but sturdily built. "I've heard of your reputation, Bannon," he said, grinning. "I wish we could work together in a less critical circumstance. 'Course when my outfit gets together like this, it's always a critical situation, so that seems unlikely."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Major," Race said.
"Race, this is Major Todd Norton."
"So, shall we dance?" Norton asked.
"Yes, but I get to lead," Race said and walked off toward the plane.
When they were aboard, Norton settled down next to Race and shouted over the engine noise. "So, who're the two kids?"
"My daughter, and Dr. Quest's son, Hadji."
"He doesn't look much like the pictures we have of the other two," Norton said.
"He's adopted."
"Ah." Norton was silent a moment, then said, "They looked like they'd prefer to be joining us. They going to do covert ops when they're grown?"
"They're already doing covert ops, minus the guns, quite effectively, thank you."
"Are they?"
"They've saved my tail a time or two."
"You let them get involved in your operations?"
Race snorted. "It would take a small army to stop them, and I don't have one. They're great kids, all three of them, very obedient. Except when 'higher moral considerations' get involved."
"'Higher moral considerations,' huh? Is that a quote?"
"From Hadji, yes. Jonny just says, 'but we had to,' and Jessie usually just glares or starts speaking computerese."
"Ah, yes. Computerese. My son speaks a mutant variety of the language, one I can't make heads or tails of."
"I'm not sure Bill Gates himself would understand Jessie when she gets going, or that he'd understand Hadji for that matter." He gave Norton a wry look. "If he could, they probably wouldn't have been able to break into his system."
"They're not responsible for all those freezes and crashes, are they?" Norton asked, sounding amused.
Race laughed. "No. According to them, they were looking to fix the problem, but apparently it would take too much time, and the next version would likely be out before they managed it."
"Right." From Norton's tone, Race gathered that he was humoring him, but Race just leaned back and contemplated their mission. He didn't feel any need to insist. It was better, overall, if folks underestimated the kids anyway.
After a while, Norton pulled out a map of the island. It wasn't very detailed, evidently no one had ever bothered to set down on the place and give it a close look. At least no one who later made a map. There were some high cliff formations and a large amount of vegetation. It looked a bit forbidding in the aerial photographs. Then he got a look at the one that showed where the plane landed. It splashed down in the water, then taxied into a cave under the cliffs.
"Where do you intend to set us down, Major?" Race asked.
"With your approval, around here on the other side of the island." Norton pointed at a spot that was well shielded from the cave entrance. "There have been two planes in and out of there in the last six hours, but we don't know how many people that leaves behind."
"Right. Have there been any reconnaissance flights yet?"
"A squadron of fighters from the base in Cuba have been doing 'maneuvers' nearby, keeping an eye on the place. They've seen no sign of anti-aircraft weaponry or, truthfully, much of anything."
"I'm not sure if that's good or not," Race mused.
"I doubt the subterfuge has convinced them that we're not watching the island, but we don't want to walk into a trap."
"Not hardly."
