Chapter 14: Empty Rooms
Race stood in the middle of yet another empty room. It was the sixth similar arrangement he'd found so far. The room wasn't technically empty, but there were no people present. It was a bedroom with both a bathroom and a sitting room attached. Both the bedroom and the sitting room had locking doors to the hallway. Locking, that is, from the outside. They were attractively decorated, pleasant rooms, which nevertheless had the air of prison cells.
The facility appeared to be abandoned. Any computers that had been left behind were useless due to a virus that had been introduced, no doubt by the fleeing members of the corporation. From the looks of things, they had been all too aware that this site had been located, and had taken every precaution they could to keep information out of the hands of their pursuers.
Race kicked the dresser and swore. Had Jonny and Benton been here or not?
A forensics team was already on the ground, having been sent to be ready if they were needed. He left the room without touching anything and found Major Norton in the hallway. "Bannon, I think you'd better see this." His face was deathly serious, and Race felt his pulse quicken with dread.
He followed the special ops commander into yet another of these bedrooms, where the bed had been stripped by the forensics team. A very dark brown stain about six inches in diameter discolored the mattress a little lower than midway down its length. One of the forensic scientists had the kit they used for DNA testing in his hands and Race could see that it had already been used.
Diana came in behind him. "Race, Major Nor–" she started, but she stopped abruptly when she saw the bed.
"Whose blood is it?" Race asked, surprised by the calm sound of his voice. He felt disconnected somehow, detached. It could be an old stain, from some previous event, but the way the soldiers and the forensics people were looking at him made that seem unlikely.
"Jonathon Quest's," the man said. Race stared at the brown stain, trying to divine just how much blood had been shed there. He was thankful that neither Jessie nor Hadji was present. They didn't need to see this. Hell, he didn't need to see this.
"But they have full medical facilities, Bannon," Major Norton said. "And from what we've been told about their SOP they wouldn't be likely to kill him."
"Yeah, well maybe their standard operating procedure has changed!" Race muttered.
One of the forensics guys lifted the mattress and let out a curse. Race could see that not only did the stain go all the way through, but it was wider on the bottom, if a bit patchy. He turned his back. Someone was in the bathroom that was attached to this room, and the door stood open. His eyes were riveted by the sight of scratch marks at the bottom of the panel. He walked over and squatted down, looking at the door.
"Bandit was in here," he said, breaking into a silence that he hadn't been aware of.
"The dog?" Norton asked, walking over to stand behind him.
Race nodded. "Those scratches are pretty fresh," he noted, still in that oddly detached voice. Diana was looking worriedly at him.
"Um," she said. "I was coming to get you because we found a body." Race's heart skipped a beat, and he shot to his feet, feeling the blood rush away from his face. "A woman's body," she added hastily.
"Where?" Norton asked.
"On the landing of a staircase leading to the surface. She appears to have fallen, but one of the forensics guys doesn't seem so sure." She shrugged. "I've got my doubts, too. She didn't die right away, and she left a message."
Once Race could breathe again, they headed to the spot where the body had been found. "Was she another victim?" he asked as they walked. "Another abductee?"
"Not recently for certain," Diana said. "I'm pretty sure she worked for the corporation."
Race nodded. They came around a corner, and he saw the forensics workers gathered around the body about eight steps up from the ground. She wore a white lab coat, and a pair of glasses rested upside down yet unbroken on the third step. There was a box containing medical supplies that had spilled and scattered across the floor and along the steps. One of the woman's arms was outstretched, and Race could see a pen fallen beside her hand.
"You said she'd left a message?"
"It's written on the concrete of the landing," Diana said.
Race could see that there was no room for him up there. "What does it say?" he asked.
"I don't remember exactly, but –"
One of the forensic techs looked up. "Hang on a minute, Bannon." He shifted so that he could see the writing. "Crandall insane – will kill the boy – fire the bastard."
Race froze. "How long has she been dead?"
"Rigor mortis is just setting in," said one of the other techs. "And the body isn't completely cold yet. I'd say it's been between three and four hours."
Race looked at Diana. "So within the last four hours, she believed that Jonny was still alive."
"That assumes that the boy the message refers to is Jonny."
Raising an eyebrow, he said, "I'd really prefer to think that there wasn't some other kid here being beaten to death." He closed his mouth with a snap, wishing he hadn't said that aloud.
"Right, pretend I didn't say that," Diana said. "It seems a safe assumption anyway."
"All right," one of the techs said, "flip her over. Let's see if there's any ID on the body." They did a quick search of the woman and came up with several items, placing them into clear plastic evidence bags and passing them down to Race who held up his hands for them. Several more pens, a thermometer, a stethoscope, a small plastic card with an electromagnetic strip that bore the name Lucy Pascale, M.D. and a picture of an attractive but unsmiling woman with dark hair and eyes, hair pulled back from her face, wearing the glasses that now rested on the stairs.
"Bingo!" said one of the techs, holding something up in his gloved hand. "I think we may have hit pay dirt here." He dropped the silvery disc into an evidence bag and handed it down to Race who gazed at it hungrily. It was an unmarked CD. Lord only knew what was on it, for all he knew it could be the doctor's collection of MP3s. But it probably wasn't.
An hour later, he and Diana were back on the plane. More soldiers had arrived to secure the compound, and most of the techs were staying behind to examine the facility closely. Two techs, Diana and he were going back to Washington with the preliminary reports, some blood samples, and the evidence from Dr. Pascale's body. He wanted to know what data was on that disc, and he wanted to know now.
Diana leaned over to him and yelled over the plane's engine. "We can't do anything now, Race. Why don't you take a nap?" Shrugging, he tried, but he had difficulty stopping his mind's racing. Eventually, he dropped off, only waking again when they landed in Washington. Hadji and Jessie were waiting with Estella on the landing field when they disembarked from the plane. Airmen went aboard to get their things, and the two kids slammed into him as soon as they were in range.
He was thankful that they'd already been told that the facility had been empty. He smiled at Estella who seemed immeasurably relieved that he had returned unharmed. Arms around the kids, he walked forward. "Where's Corvin?" he asked, watching the techs climb into a nearby jeep and go. He'd already extracted a promise from them that they would get him the minute the CD was checked out.
"Back at headquarters, riding the crew examining the satellite footage."
"Any news on that front?"
"Yes," Hadji said glumly. "They're having trouble tracking the planes because they've intermingled themselves with other traffic."
"They'll manage."
"So, they weren't there," Jessie said. "But was there any sign that they had been there?"
"Yes," Race said. "Both Benton and Jonny's fingerprints were present, and we found places where Bandit had scratched at the bottom of doors."
"So they are all right?" Hadji asked.
Diana said, "Sure. They're –"
Race shook his head and cut her off. "We can't be sure of that, Hadji, but it seems likely. They want Dr. Quest to do something for them, and they won't get that if they hurt either of them." He could see Estella exchanging glances with Diana, but he kept both the kids' attention on him as they walked. "How are your searches going?"
"Director Corvin made us stop for lunch," Hadji said. "And then he told us that you were arriving back."
Jessie nodded. "But we've found a few more details, and the Canadian authorities have continued to questions those four kids in New Brunswick, forwarding the information to us. Carvaggio's family joined the corporation to get away from the Mob. They disappeared in the fifties from Chicago." Jessie grinned. "We had to get the Chicago police to pull the case file out of their archives. It's very different. I guess Carvaggio's grandfather was in the hospital and was visited by men in suits. The police assumed they were mobsters, and that the family was either moved or killed to get them out of the way."
"But instead, they were taken into the corporation, where neither the government nor the mob could locate them," Hadji went on. "One can see why they might have found that appealing."
"I suppose," Race said. "What was the grandfather's line?"
"He was a professor of economics," Jessie said. "But his brother was up to his ears in the Mafia and did something stupid."
"I see," Race said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed with information.
"We have also found out how they have inserted people into the Social Security database," Hadji said, grinning. "Corvin was most irritated that it took us so short a time."
"I'm not surprised." Race thought of all those people in Information Operations who were going to get an irate lecture from Corvin about their ineptitude with some sympathy. It was no fun having two bright kids find what you've spent years searching for in three hours with a fast modem.
They climbed into the van and their driver drove them at a measured pace toward the I-1 offices. They'd been on the road for nearly ten minutes when Race's phone rang and he answered it. "Bannon, here."
"We've done the preliminary checks on that disc, sir, and we've determined that there are video files on it. Do you want to be present when we view them?"
"Absolutely," Race said, sitting up sharply. "Which building are you in?"
"A-11," he said.
"Driver, where are we headed?"
"Building B-3, sir."
The main offices of I-1 . . . Race leaned forward to the driver. "Drop me by A-11, would you? Then take the kids back to B-3."
"Race, where are you going?" Estella asked.
"There's some evidence I need to take a look at."
"Then why can't we come, too?" Jessie asked, looking up at him curiously.
Race thought back on that bloodstain, and said, "Because you have work to do elsewhere, Ponchita." Both Hadji and Estella seemed to have caught the alarm in his tone, but Jessie just sighed and nodded. He glanced at Diana. "Why don't you go with them?" he suggested in a casual tone. "I think you and Estella will probably find a lot to talk about." Hadji was looking at him suspiciously, but Diana nodded thoughtfully. The driver stopped the van and Race hopped out, winking at the kids and waving. "I'll see you all shortly, I'm sure," he said, then turned and walked swiftly into the building.
The data from the CD had been loaded onto one of the machines in the computer lab, and the tech sat in front of the keyboard, waiting. Looking up as Race entered, he said, "We called Director Corvin, too. He wants us to wait until he gets here." He smiled up at him. "Oh, and my name is Stanley Sherman, but you can call me Bill."
Race nodded, quirking an eyebrow at the man. He sat down next to Bill, gazing at the screen impatiently. "What's that?"
"The directory of files on the disc." Bill pointed to a group that all had an icon of an old-fashioned movie camera. "Those are the video files, they're all labeled by date and time, it looks like, all but one." Race saw that the one whose name wasn't a string of numbers was named Assessment. "I think this one's a text file, in some word processing program that my machine doesn't recognize. It should open, though, when we get to that point."
Phil walked in and took the chair that stood behind Race and the tech. "All right, Sherman, let's take a look," he said.
Bill opened the first file, and they were treated to the image of Benton, Jonny and Bandit asleep on a bed in one of those rooms. Race leaned forward urgently. A line across the bottom of the screen showed the date and time. They started watching at a faster speed till Jonny stretched and woke up. He sat up and checked his father's pulse, and scratched the dog. The boy then got up and limped over to the bathroom, and they could see the enormous bandage on his leg that covered the wound. A few minutes later, he came out again and sat on the bed. Other than that, nothing happened for a while, so Bill sped things up again. Phil began tapping his fingers against the back of Bill's chair irritatingly. Bandit got up woozily and climbed onto Jonny's lap, licking his master's face. Then he got down and started exploring the room, all at high speed, for Bill didn't bother to slow down to watch the dog.
Benton sat up, and Bill dialed the speed down again and backed up. They could hear the dog barking manically. They listened to Jonny and Benton talk, and Race found himself cracking his knuckles one by one. Apparently Corvin wasn't the only one with irritating nervous habits. He desisted and focused his attention on the video. When Benton said, "By now, Race knows we're gone and he'll have started looking," Race nodded and muttered "Damn straight." Corvin patted him on the shoulder.
Things seemed pretty predictable for a while, with a smooth talking villain named Crandall in a suit, two thugs with guns and a pretty young medical assistant who took Jonny away to be examined by Dr. Pascale. Race contemplated the pathetic body on the stairs for a moment, but then the video shifted to one of the sitting rooms and Benton sitting down across from Crandall.
Most of the interview could have been lifted straight out of half a dozen of the doctor's encounters with villains of this sort, apart from the medical assistant. They watched the same medical assistant come in and take Benton away to be examined. Race made mental notes of some important information from this first encounter. Crandall had threatened Jonny for the most paltry of reasons, and somebody was giving Jonny morphine.
The video faded, and Bill reached for the mouse. Race caught his hand. "It looks like something else is coming up." Bill sat back and they watched a document file come up on the screen. It appeared to be a medical report on Jonny's condition, and included an image of the wound which made Race hiss. Following this report was another regarding the capture, summing up most of what Kathleen had already told him, including the summary execution of the man Steve. Bill whistled as he read through it.
When the last page had cycled through, a new video image came up. "They've got this chained together somehow," Bill said. "I wonder how they did this. It's like PowerPoint, but not exactly, and the file sizes are considerably smaller. . ."
"You can analyze it to your heart's content later, Bill," Corvin said.
"Bill, shut up," Race muttered. He couldn't give a damn how small the files were.
The image that came up was of Benton sitting in that room, looking through the files he'd been left. Race nudged Bill who sent the image whizzing by again until Crandall entered the room. Race wondered where Jonny was during this time, all these hours that Benton spent studying files.
When Crandall started asking questions, Corvin leaned forward. Race listened for a few minutes, then said, "Do we have to listen to all of this in detail?" he asked.
"We don't know what he's going to say, Race. We could learn something useful." Race sat still and listened while the doc went on about all of the projects that he was being asked to work on. They all seemed pretty run of the mill, until you thought about who this Crandall fellow might be selling the information to. Benton ran through his plans smoothly, describing techniques that Race recognized in some cases and going off onto tangents of high flown theory in others.
As Benton closed one file and picked up another, a guard came in and pulled Crandall out. They watched as Benton stood up, an alarmed expression on his face, then subsided under the threat of a gun. Benton looked after him for a few moments, clearly worried, then began reading through the files again. Then the video cut away and they were looking at Dr. Pascale who was gazing calmly into the camera. "As you can see," she said, "Crandall is working par for the course up to this point. His behavior seems rational and relatively appropriate. I saw no reason at this time for concern, however, my confidence, and yours, was clearly misplaced."
Race found this more than a little discomfiting. As the video cut out, Bill whistled again. "Is that the corpse?" he asked.
"Yeah," Race said.
"Seems like she must have pissed our buddy Crandall off."
Race took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This did not seem promising. The video came up on Jonny, alone in another bedroom, sitting on the bed, injured leg stretched out in front of him, looking depressed. There was a TV in the room, but it was off, though Race could see the remote near Jonny's hand. Two plates of food sat untouched on the bedside table, and Jonny kept glancing at them and sighing.
"Pause it," Corvin said abruptly. "Race, why isn't Jonny eating? Do you think he's concerned that the food is poisoned?"
Race shook his head. "No, it's one of the doc's rules. When we're in the field, the kids aren't supposed to eat anything without parental approval, either him or me."
Bill looked at him curiously. "Don't you mean adult approval?"
Race shrugged. "Since one of 'the kids' is my daughter, it comes to the same thing."
Bill sat back blinking, clearly a bit confused and Race sighed. Their situation didn't fit into any of I-1's neat little pigeonholes.
"Surely if he was captured alone by an enemy he wouldn't starve himself to death."
Race quirked a grin at the director of I-1. "No, the doc has different rules to cover that."
"Does it happen often?" asked Bill.
"Not that often!" Race exclaimed defensively.
Bill looked taken aback both by his vehemence and the implication that the kids did get captured by enemies alone, just not that often. Race grimaced. "You guys are creeping me out," Bill said, turning back to the screen. "I'm going to start this up again."
The video started again and a second later, Crandall came in, radiating menace. Race saw that Jonny was reacting to him the way he reacted to all of the villains who menaced him, and this made him profoundly nervous. When Crandall said that he was the one who determined whether Benton would be leaving with or without his son, Race felt his whole body tense. Then Jonny said what could possibly have been the worst possible thing to say to such a man. He called his behavior a menacing act.
Crandall reacted with fury, which is what Race had expected. What he hadn't expected was for the man to lean down and encircle Jonny's leg with his hand, bringing home the enormous difference in their sizes. He dug his thumb right into Jonny's leg where it was stitched. The expression on his face as he did so made Race's stomach turn over, sort of exultant and very pleased. Jonny cried out in pain and Corvin leaned forward and stopped the video.
"Race!" he said urgently. Race tore his eyes away from the screen and realized that he was standing, his hands clenched into fists. "Race, you're bleeding." He looked down at his left hand and saw that his nails had dug into his palm and that blood was welling up. Phil handed him his handkerchief. "Now sit down."
Race sat, gripping the small square of cloth in his hand, annoyed with himself for being so – so – "Goddamnit!" he said, causing Bill to jump. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry. Please go on."
Bill gave him a sidelong look, and said, "You do remember who the innocent bystanders are, don't you?"
"You're not going to be an innocent bystander if you don't start that video," Corvin snapped. Bill gulped and punched the button that started things going again. They watched as Jonny tried to pull away, but the man's hand was so large on Jonny's leg that he didn't have a chance. Then the bastard let go and Jonny pulled away, turning his back on the man. Crandall grabbed him and dragged him off the bed and out of the room, holding Jonny's arm at an angle that left him barely able to stand, much less walk.
The video shifted again, and they saw Jonny being dragged down the hallway, and Pascale's voice cut in. "Not only did he deliberately cause the boy pain and further his injury, but he's forcing him to walk at a pace he can't keep up in his condition. And all of this before the father can even see what's happening. Clearly, this is to punish the boy for his disobedience, not to persuade the father to cooperate."
Bill tapped the button to pause it. "Am I missing something? Isn't that the point? Punishing the kid, I mean."
Race was unable to speak he was so furious. If he tried, he'd probably just wind up shouting curse words and breaking things. Corvin answered Bill's question. "No. From what information we've been able to glean, children are not punished by the corporation for their own misdeeds. They leave that to their parents. Children are harmed only to encourage their parents to cooperate."
"I see." Bill set the video going again and almost immediately it shifted back to the sitting room as Crandall yanked Jonny through the doorway, narrowly missing cracking his head on the frame. Benton jumped up and ran to his son, but Crandall didn't release him, still holding him so that he had to stand on tiptoe. Benton put his arms around the boy and supported him, taking some of the burden off Jonny's arm, begging Crandall to let him go. Race ground his teeth. That man was due for a broken skull.
Finally, the bastard let Jonny's arm go, and Benton lifted the boy off his feet and onto the couch. The scene that followed illustrated that Crandall was given to escalating fury. Benton tried to placate him, but to no avail. Finally, he was forced to tell Jonny to do what he was told and allow him to be removed from the room again. At least this time they were going to let him have his dog.
Most alarming was the fact that once Jonny was out of the room, Crandall calmly returned to what they had been doing, forcing Benton to try to do the same.
A moment later, the video switched back to the hallway again. "As the boy returns to his room, I want you to take particular notice of the new seepage on the bandage. He has already started to bleed to death."
Race stopped breathing, his eyes fixed on the pale red seepage visible on the bandage. Corvin took his shoulder and shook him. "Race, you said she thought the boy was alive today. Breathe!"
"She was dying, she might have been confused, she might have been talking about someone else – Hadji . . . Jonny could already be dead."
Corvin didn't take his hand off Race's shoulder, he just turned to Bill and said, "Keep going."
The video image shifted again to the bedroom and Jonny. He sat down and picked up one of the plates, but put it aside, staring listlessly at the wall across from him. A few moments later, the door open and Bandit came in, barking at the person who'd delivered him. Jonny called the dog to him, scratched him, and then he curled up on his side around the dog and fell asleep, though the only reason Race was sure it was just sleep was that he shifted from time to time. Race buried his face in his hands, and Corvin squeezed his shoulder.
There was the sound of growling, suddenly, and a voice spoke on the video, and Race looked up to see the medical assistant waking Jonny up and offering him a fresh plate of food. They talked for a few moments, and Jonny seemed very out of it. Race stared, did the girl see that something was wrong? Was she able to tell that Jonny wasn't himself? She checked his forehead, looking worried, and then they all three noticed the stain on the bed.
The medical assistant, Patricia was her name, he thought, ran out of the room, abjuring Jonny not to move. With his typical tendency to do the opposite of whatever a minion told him to, Jonny peeled back the bandage. The resolution on these videos was pretty good, but he couldn't see clearly. Suddenly, Bill froze the picture and made the image zoom closer and they could see the damage that had been done to Jonny's leg. Stitches had been ripped out and the wound was reopened. Race opened his hands abruptly and laid them flat on his legs so that he couldn't poke any more holes in himself.
"Thanks, Bill," Corvin said. "Now go on."
The image went back to the normal distance, and Race watched as Dr. Pascale came in. Her initial reaction underwhelmed him, as she seemed to blame Jonny for his injury, and she actually allowed him to get up and carry Bandit into the bathroom to get him out of the way. When Jonny stood up again, he was tilting at an alarming angle. Patricia helped him back over to the bed, but both she and the doctor looked uneasy. The doctor sent her assistant out to get a wheelchair, and when they got Jonny into it, Dr. Pascale pulled the covers back to reveal that the stain beneath the surface was wider than the one on the bedspread. They wasted no time after that getting him out of the room.
The image faded away to once again be replaced by a document detailing the extent of Jonny's additional injuries and the amount of blood they'd had to give him to get him back to normal blood pressure. Race was just relieved by the fact that the report indicated that Jonny had survived the experience. Corvin, on the other hand. . .
"Two liters?" he exclaimed, half standing up. "Two! He's . . . he's so small." Race gulped, and listened to Corvin muttering profanely about Crandall.
The text ended with side by side views of the wound as it had been when Jonny reached the complex, the wound after Crandall had savaged him, and the wound once it had been re-stitched. That view stayed up for thirty seconds, and all three of them stared at it in silence.
When the video came back up, it was showing a view of the sitting room with Benton and Crandall again. As Benton, with a look of distaste, bent to pick up the last file, the guard came in again and told Crandall that Dr. Pascale wanted to speak with him. Benton watched him leave with worry in his eyes, but they had left him alone this time, so he got up and crept to the door to listen. The view switched to the bedroom, where Dr. Pascale was laying into Crandall about Jonny's injuries.
When Benton stepped into the room and the guard pointed his gun at him, Race bit his tongue to keep from shouting at someone who couldn't hear him anyway about something that had happened more than a day ago.
Benton disregarded the gun, and just looked at the pair who were in charge. In his most acid tone, he asked, "What does your corporate handbook tell you to do if you kill my son?"
Dr. Pascale drew back as if he'd struck her, but Crandall just smiled grimly. "Either let you go, kill you, or obtain a new hostage. I already have people in place near the Indian boy's camp."
Race reached across Bill and hit the pause button. Then he turned to Corvin who was already dialing his cell phone. He didn't really think they'd come into I-1 headquarters after Hadji, but after that – he didn't want – Benton would murder him if he let those bastards get Hadji.
A moment later, Corvin nodded at Race and handed the phone to him. "Yes, Race? Is everything all right?" Hadji asked.
Race was surprised by the calm voice that issued forth from his lips. "Sure, just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling, kid?"
"I am very frustrated. I have come up against a roadblock on the information superhighway, and I have not yet found my way around it." Race felt a corner of his mouth lifting.
"You will. I don't know anyone better suited to the task."
"When are you coming to join us, Race?" Hadji asked, his voice a little softer this time.
"Soon. I've got some more work to do here."
"This evidence," Hadji asked. "Does it concern my father and Jonny?"
Race couldn't lie to the boy. "Yes."
"May I see it?"
"No. It's just – no, Hadji." He paused for a moment. "We have good reason to believe that they're alive."
"That is good news. I will tell Jessie. Hurry, Race. I miss you." There was a click as Hadji hung up the phone suddenly, and Race handed Phil's phone back to him.
"The kid's okay, right?" asked Bill. Race nodded. "Then do we keep watching?"
"Yes," Race said. "Let's go."
They watched Dr. Pascale assert her authority over Crandall and take Benton away to Jonny. The image faded to black, and then up again, and they saw from the date line that this was the next day, yesterday. Benton and Crandall were back in the same sitting room. "You notice," Phil said, "that we never see him on her turf."
Race nodded. The conversation between Benton and Crandall began as before, but this time the project was a little more the sort of thing that Race had difficulty imagining Dr. Quest countenancing. Enabling nerve gas to penetrate the masks of soldiers . . . . but there Benton was, calmly describing techniques, and Race couldn't blame him.
When he finished, Crandall gave him a condescending compliment then leaned forward. The next question took Race completely by surprise. ""Now, if you would please, tell me something about Race Bannon."
Bill let out a whistle, and Corvin leaned closer. Race watched Benton waffle, looking, to his familiar eye, both furious and desperate. He clenched his fists impotently. "What are you doing, Benton?" he muttered. "Tell him anything he wants to know. Stupid loyal jackass!"
When Crandall sent for Jonny, Race flattened his hands again on his thighs, wishing he could dive through the screen and stop what was happening right now, but of course this had happened yesterday, while he was questioning those kids. Jonny was brought in by the guard Crandall called Marcus. Benton offered to tell Crandall anything, but the bastard just said that he'd earned the punishment and gave Jonny a backhanded slap across the face. Benton started to rise, to go to Jonny, but the other guard shoved him down and stuck his gun in Benton's chest. Just talk! Race willed, knowing that it was far too late to have any effect on the events he was watching.
Benton immediately launched into a description of Race, his skills and abilities. Jonny, as loyal as his father, tried to stop him, and Crandall threatened to hit him again.
Race was taking long deep breaths now, trying to control his rage at Crandall for putting the boy through this monstrous scene. Jonny looked terrified, Benton looked violently angry, but at the same time desperate. Then Crandall asked him if Race would be in charge of a search for them, and Race suddenly understood his hesitations. He didn't want to tell Crandall anything that might hamper Race's efforts to find them. Benton paused, Race could see he was going to answer, but he paused just too long for Crandall, who hit Jonny again.
Benton answered. Race could see that neither he nor Jonny had noticed the sick enjoyment on Crandall's face. The bastard made Race's flesh creep. Then Crandall asked another question that Race hadn't expected. He asked about Jessie and Estella. Corvin had a hand on his shoulder instantly, to hold him down, though Race felt no inclination to stand. Could Benton be that practical?
Before Benton could even try to answer, though, Jonny yelled, "You leave Jessie alone, you rotten creep!"
Race reached out, as if he could take Jonny by the shoulder and quiet him, but he was only an image on a screen. And Crandall seized the boy by the hair, yanking his head back, telling him to be quiet. When he released Jonny, Benton started answering.
Benton's answers were utterly believable, but utterly false. Race breathed a great sigh of relief. Benton had a better knowledge of Jessie than that, but Crandall seemed to buy it without difficulty. Race saw Bill looking at him out the corner of his eye, clearly surprised by his reaction.
Unfortunately, Benton's prevarication shifted Crandall's attention to Jonny, who wasn't nearly that practical. Jonny shrank away, nearly frightened beyond his ability to cope, but the defiant fire in the boy's eyes wasn't yet extinguished. Race could tell he was trying to be brave, but his voice quavered and his answers to Crandall's questions were muddled.
As Benton tried to reason with Crandall, his own words had more than a touch of babble to them. Race's blood boiled when he saw what the bastard was doing to his friend and his son. Crandall left them alone, and Benton tried to reason with Jonny who adamantly didn't want to talk about Jessie. Race cringed when Jonny suggested that Race would be angry with him, and resolved to tell the boy that there were situations where talking was the only way to act. And hug the stuffing out of him.
"That's alarming," Phil said in an undertone.
Race looked back at him. "What do you mean?"
"The last time I saw Jonny look like that, so firmly cuddled against Benton like that, was just after Rachel died."
Nodding, Race said, "Does it surprise you? The kid's not coping."
"He's coping better than I would expect, actually," Corvin said. "He's still defying the bastard."
"Yeah, I wish he'd stop."
"So do I," Phil said. "So does Benton, I'd wager."
Race watched them talk, furious at the thought of those smug corporation bastards watching this and getting clues about their weaknesses. When Benton explained to Jonny that Race would want them to stay alive until he could find them, Race let out a solemn "Amen."
Then Jonny, in a weepy voice, said, "Race is late. He's very late. He needs to get here now." Jonny tried to wipe away his tears and winced at the pain. Race stood up and turned his back on the screen, going to stand facing the wall, striving to get himself under control. He couldn't love that boy more if he was his son, and that was yesterday! Hold on, Jonny, I'm coming, he thought. Don't give up. Race was consumed with the desire to be out there, in a plane, searching, but blind searching wouldn't get them anywhere.
Phil was suddenly behind him. "It's okay, Race. We'll find them."
"I know we will, Phil. I have no doubts. But like you said, Jonny hasn't lost any of his defiance. He's going to talk himself into an early grave." If he hasn't already.
"Don't think like that, Race. They will be fine."
Race shook his head and went back to sit in the chair, to continue watching. Bill had frozen the image. Jonny was leaning against his father, who had an arm around his shoulders and was glaring harshly at Crandall.
Once Corvin, too, had settled back into his seat, Bill started the video again. Crandall asked Jonny some questions about Jessie's skills, and the boy managed to be both vague and convincing. He didn't really tell him much more than Benton had.
Then he asked Jonny what he was good at, and the boy said, "Getting into trouble. And catching minions." Race sighed.
Corvin snorted. "Truer word were never spoken,"
"Catching minions?" Bill asked incredulously. "He's a kid."
"And he's caught more 'minions' as he puts it, than most experienced agents." He gave Race a wry look. "Present company excepted." Bill still looked disbelieving and Corvin said, "Hey, about half the information we provided for your department yesterday on the corporation was obtained by Jessie and Hadji. Quest wasn't making it up when he said they're all prodigies."
"Could we get back down to business?" Race said. "One of those prodigies asked me to hurry, and I don't want to disappoint him." Race groaned. "Two of them, actually, only one of them said I was late."
Bill unpaused the video, and they were treated to Jonny exploding when asked to give information about Race. "Race can do anything, and he's going to come in here and kick your butt."
There was silence in both rooms as Jonny, looking appalled by what he'd said, buried his face in his father's side. Corvin cleared his throat and said, "I believe that's called blind faith."
Race let out a shuddering breath. He wasn't going to disappoint either of those kids. Jonny would be safe with Hadji as soon as he could swing it.
Then Benton started babbling, imploring Crandall to allow him some time with Jonny, pleading with him not to separate them again. Race could see that Crandall got a charge out of having a man like Dr. Quest practically on his knees before him, begging.
When Crandall left, having graciously agreed to give them the afternoon together, provided Benton worked hard the next day, Jonny looked up at his father and asked a question that made Race's heart break. "Race is going to be too late, isn't he?"
"Not if I can help it, Jonny," Race said to himself. When Benton looked nearly as scared as Jonny, Race found he was clenching his fists again.
A moment later they found themselves looking at Dr. Pascale again. "I was not permitted to examine the boy after this incident. Crandall did not call me, which would have been proper procedure, he merely sent my assistant in with medical supplies. When I went to take a look at him, his father wouldn't let me near him, and given the boy's reaction and his condition, I felt that pressing the matter might be counter-productive. I contented myself with reviewing the video of the interrogation, to make sure that there were no signs of injury that neither Patricia nor I could see." She looked sourly down at the table in front of her and back up at the camera. "I then pulled Crandall's personnel file and took a look. Imagine my distress upon finding that he was not given guard duty as a young man because the placement officer felt he had a tendency toward bullying. Perhaps someone in personnel should read these files a little more closely."
The image cut away then to a brief text document that backed up her statement, then that faded to be replaced by an image of Benton and Jonny asleep. Bandit sat near the foot of the bed, scratching. The date line at the bottom of the screen told them that it was nearly four-thirty in the morning the next day. That would be today, Race reflected. A sudden loud pounding brought Benton, barely conscious, to his feet, glaring at the door. Jonny rolled up, eyes wide, staring, and Bandit ran toward the door, barking fit to wake the dead. Benton seized the little dog just as the door was flung open and Crandall came in.
Jonny jumped, wincing at the pain he'd caused himself and slithered off the bed toward his father. They were both fully dressed, as if Benton had been half-expecting something of this sort.
Crandall started right in. "I'd say good morning, Dr. Quest, but it isn't one. It seems we underestimated that Bannon fellow."
"This must be when he found out about the arrests in Canada," Phil said. Race nodded.
When the bastard announced that they were going to move them, Race could see that Benton was relieved. He must have been expecting them to kill both him and Jonny. When he informed them that they were to be sedated, and Benton objected, Race understood completely. Heaven only knew what Crandall might do while they were out. It would be the perfect time to separate them, for one thing.
The threat to knock Jonny out the 'old-fashioned' way set Race's blood boiling again, especially with Jonny struggling to free himself from the big man's grip. Then he cried out, and Race saw the expression on Crandall's face. The pure, unadulterated fury there made him very worried. The man had a hair trigger where Jonny was concerned.
Despite Benton's attempts to assuage the man's temper, Crandall terrified Jonny into submission, then let him return to his father. When he ordered a woman to sedate the two of them, she refused, citing Jonny's injuries and the possibility of concussion. After that, they left, with that woman acting as a sort of shield for them against Crandall's men.
The image faded then and they saw Dr. Pascale. "So you see, if Bridget Marquez hadn't refused the order Crandall gave her, he might have endangered the boy's life yet again. His blatant disregard for procedure and the most basic of corporate policies has endangered this project from the outset. Not only has he severely injured the boy, but he has also alienated both him and his father. The likelihood that either will now acclimate to life within the corporation has been materially lessened. Crandall deserves nothing less that the severest censure, or even dismissal with all that entails. I append to this my full written report on Crandall's behavior, as well as a full report on the boy's current medical condition as I last saw him, and leave it in your capable hands. And, needless to say, though Dr. Quest has not suffered any physical injury, the unreasonable stress and trauma to which he is being subjected will no doubt result in half-hearted, unproductive, unreliable and inaccurate work. Thus the corporation stands to lose on every front because Theodore Crandall is a braying jackass. While I cannot prove this last point, it is my experienced opinion. It is to be hoped that some action will be taken on this matter before Jonathon Quest is dead."
"You can count on it, lady," Race muttered. "Action is going to be taken. I'm going to kill that rotten –" Race's words cut off in a gasp as the image of Jonny, clad only in his underpants and lying on an examination table came up. The leg wound had been re-stitched, but his left arm had a dark black bruise in the shape of handprint encircling it, and his shoulder was bruised as well. He was unconscious or sleeping, his skin was pale, his eyes were shadowed, and there was an IV in his arm. "I think I'm going to be sick." He glanced over to Phil and saw that he had turned his face away, his hand over his eyes.
"You know," he said in a voice Race had to strain to hear. "In my career with I-1, I've seen worse, but never on a kid I knew."
The next image was of Jonny shirtless in the bedroom, his father kneeling in front of him, now with a bruise on each arm, and his face swollen so badly that one of his eyes was shut. Race looked at it for a moment and then closed his eyes. "That bastard is going to pay," he murmured.
