A/N: All right, I actually started writing chapter 12 last week, but upon coming back to it, I realized it was utter crap, and then deleted it. So, here's take 2 of the crap chapter.
Chapter 12Jefferson stared at the intercom on his desk for a few seconds. He had known that he and Dread would have some issues staying in the same base, but this was not going to happen. "Martinez, confirm. Dread has twenty-five of his people out there?"
"Yep."
"You're sure?"
Berto sounded slightly insulted. "I think I know how to count, Sir."
Jefferson sighed. "Yes, Berto, I know you know how to count. What are they doing?"
"Right now? Moving towards the entrance near the loading bay."
Jefferson leaned back in his chair and though a moment. "Where are Kat and Max?"
There was silence on Berto's end.
"Martinez?"
Berto hesitated. "They're in the cafeteria."
Jefferson closed his eyes, counted to ten, and then responded through gritted teeth. "They're supposed to be the ones watching Dread. What are they doing in the cafeteria?"
Berto's reply was unintelligible.
"Martinez?"
"They're…um…well, they're kind of having a contest."
Jeff narrowed his eyes. "What kind of contest?"
"Well…"
"Berto, I don't have time for this! Now tell me why the hell the two people supposed to be watching John Dread are in the cafeteria holding a contest?"
Berto took a deep breath and let it out very quickly. "They're competing to see who gets the last donut by seeing who can stand on their head the longest." He winced and waited for Jeff's reply.
"WHAT!" Smith's roar echoed off the walls of the console room and Berto rushed to turn down the volume.
"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," he added nervously.
Jeff took a deep breath and calmed himself down…somewhat. "Berto, please tell my genius son and Ms. Ryan that something of slightly higher importance than that donut is happening."
"Yes, Sir."
"Oh, and one more thing?"
"I'm listening."
"There's ten bucks in it for you if that donut ends up on my desk."
"You've got it."
Jefferson pressed another button on the intercom, severing the connection. It wasn't very comforting to know that the world's best secret agent could be distracted from his duty by a donut. Not very comforting at all.
"This kind of thing never happened when Rachel was watching him," he told himself. Yeah, he thought, but there was also a reason Rachel had chosen not to work with him anymore. He sighed. Company romances never worked out. He knew his hadn't.
Maybe it was a good thing the phone on his desk rang again and interrupted his train of thought. That particular collection of memories never put him in a good state of mind. He hesitated, as he had previously, before picking up the phone, but this time it was not because he wanted to finish his donut. This time, he just plain didn't want to know what piece of information awaited him on the other end of the line.
After the device rang three times, he begrudgingly reached forward and picked up the handset. "Smith here."
"Why, hello Jeff, how are you this fine day?"
Smith recognized the all-too-familiar oily voice and jumped up out of his chair. "Dread, what the hell is going on! This is a complete breach of our agreement. When I said five or six, I meant exactly that. You are unauthorized to bring twenty-five of your associates into this base. I will not allow it!"
"Nathanson."
"Excuse me!"
The voice on the other end sighed. "You called me Dread again. I really insist that you call me Nathanson. Marco would be satisfactory if you wish."
"What is your obsession with that name! And stop trying to change the subject! You're not getting all those people in here, and that's final!"
"I'm rather attached to my old name. Now that I'm back at N-Tek, I really wish to re-instate it. And do stop talking to me in such a manner, I'm not your son, if you remember."
Jefferson put the receiver on his desk, and took more than a few deep breaths. He was never going to win the Dread/Nathanson debate. It wasn't worth it. Pick your battles, Jeff, he told himself. He knew he would have to pick his battles in this one. And no matter how much it annoyed him, what name Marco Nathanson would go by was not worth his energy. However, making sure that Psycho and Dragonelle were stopped was.
"Still there, my friend?" asked the receiver from its place on the desk.
Jefferson picked it up, and picked his words carefully before responding to it. "Marco," he said slowly, "you have to understand that I will not allow all of your people into my base. It was against our original agreement, and think of it reasonably. No one will be trying to harm you here, and twenty-five unauthorized personnel wandering around the classified sectors of our organization is a security risk I can not allow. Would you have let this happen when you were CEO?"
"No, most likely not. However, when I was CEO I didn't keep junk food in my desk drawers either."
"Marco…" Jefferson warned.
"Oh, all right, ten then."
"Six."
"Eight."
"Seven. That's it."
"Fine. But I do need some assistance getting them through security. Your guard looks a little…nervous, which is really the reason why I called in the first place. I would really prefer that he holstered his firearm. It would be a shame for him to die on such a lovely day."
Jefferson hit the intercom and pressed 77- the number for the garage speaker. "Davis, put your gun away, you are not in any danger." He pressed the disconnect button, then picked up the phone again. "Happy?"
"Quite. How long is this going to take?"
"I'll send Ms. Leeds down shortly. In the meantime, make sure your men stay exactly where they are. You would be smart to do the same."
"Of course."
Jefferson heard a beep on the other end of the line, and then hung up his phone as well. Sitting back down in his chair, he just had enough time to collect himself before the door creaked open to admit Kat Ryan and Max Steel… both covered in splotches of ketchup.
Deciding that he just did not want to know, Jefferson nodded at the two of them. "Are we ready to start work now?"
Max considered the point for a second, and then nodded. "Well, there are no more donuts left, so I guess so."
"No more donuts?" asked Jefferson, trying to hide his dismay.
Kat made a face. "Yeah, Berto came and snatched the one we were fighting over."
Jeff cheered silently in his head. At least there had been one victory for the day.