Disclaimer: I do not own Jonny Quest. I am making no money off of this and it is purely for fun and enjoyment.

29MARCH2016: I've made some corrections to this chapter that should help clarify some things for later down the road.

Chapter 2

Squinting against the afternoon sun, Race took a seat on the bench next to the Monument at the heart of Wenceslas Square. Sipping a cup of local java he picked up from the vendor across the square he glanced about casually, taking in the people that strolled through one of Prague's many historical landmarks. As his eyes drifted towards the steps of the National Museum, he saw his partner take a seat on one of the ledges at the top of the steps. Corbin sipped a bottle of Coca-Cola as he surveyed their surroundings.

As tourists mingled amongst the locals, Race walked through the details of the meet in his mind. Yawning, he covered his mouth, attempting to fight off the onset of the jetlag he felt creeping up on him. Raising his cup to take another sip of the surprisingly strong brew, he spoke into his mic, "See anything yet?"

"Nothing." Corbin's reply came through his ear as clear as if the man was seated next to him. "Keep your eyes open."

"Understood."

Looking down on the Square, Corbin watched Bannon as the white-haired agent took another sip of his drink. Doing the same, Phil watched the people that wandered about the area, keeping his ears attuned for any hint of a Russian accent around him. His eyes locked on to an elderly couple as they moved across the square from one of the street vendor carts towards Race.

Phil raised his bottled to his lips and said, "Possible contact."

Seated on the bench, Race made no move or indication that he had heard his partner, but Phil knew that the message had been received. While Director Stephens had questioned Corbin's choice of Race Bannon as his partner for this assignment, Phil knew Bannon possessed the necessary skills and street smarts needed to conduct covert ops and was currently proving just that.

As the couple made their way towards the horse statue, Corbin turned his attention back towards the rest of the crowd, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone that seemed overly interested in either Bannon or the elderly duo.

"Excuse us, young man." The elderly woman said with a Southern American accent.

Turning his attention to the old couple, Race shot them a warm smile. "Yes?"

"Oh good," The lady replied with a wave of her hand. "I was hoping you were an American. Something about that handsome face of yours just screamed American made."

Trying not to blush, Race kept a smile on his face and said, "Well,"

"Could you be a dear and take a picture of Henry and I? You see, our grandkids sent us here on a second honeymoon and wanted us to get as many pictures as possible." Inclining her head at her gentleman companion she asked, "Or is this our third honeymoon, Henry?"

Rolling his eyes, the man replied, "Quit bothering the young fellow. Can't you see he's looking for love?"

Laughing, Race stood as the old man spoke the code phrase. "Of course I'll take your picture."

"Oh thank you so much." The woman beamed. Moving out of the couple's way, Race switched places with them as the man named Henry handed Race a digital camera.

"Just make sure you get the horse in the picture." Henry said as Race took a few steps back and snapped the picture. He was sure that no one around them had taken any interest in their actions; people asked others to take pictures all the time.

"Well, I think I got it." Race said as he lowered the camera.

"Thank you again." The woman said as she patted Race's arm. "If you happen to find a nice young lady, I suggest you take her to the concert at St. Martin in the Wall tonight. They'll be performing a lovely rendition of Mozart's Requiem in D Minor."

"Thanks." Race replied as he pocketed the camera. As the couple moved off towards the Museum, Race turned and headed off through the Square.

Phil watched the encounter out of his peripheral vision and as Race walked off from the horse statue, Corbin stood and headed down the steps, passing the elderly couple without even a glance in their direction as they made their way up towards the entrance of the museum. As he reached the bottom of the steps, a strange sensation caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Glancing towards the vendor stand, he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar face; a familiar female face. But as he scanned the crowd, the woman he thought he had seen was not there. Still, the feeling left him with a sense of unease. Pursing his lips, he shook off the feeling and headed off in a different direction than Bannon.

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Watching the I-1 agent from the shadows of the small alley behind the vendor, Jade breathed a sigh of relief. 'Stupid move, Jade.' She cursed to herself. She'd only just arrived and had almost been made by the tenacious I-1 agent.

The unexpected appearance of the Intel man set Jade's nerves on end. Why was Intelligence One in Prague and could they be looking for the same thing she was? She doubted it, but Agent Corbin's presence gave Jade reason for pause; something big was possibly going down and she needed to know what exactly that something was.

As Corbin moved off and out of her line of sight, Jade took a sip of her coffee and whispered, "Now, just who exactly were you watching, Agent Corbin?"

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Hands on his hips, Vostok glared approvingly as his men unloaded the bulky containers from the back of the old military transport truck. Having arrived right on schedule, Vostok and his men headed straight for the old farm house in the small farming village of Lidice just Northwest of Prague. His comrades on the ground had already persuaded the old farmer to "allow" them to use his property.

Coming to stand at his side, Colonel Nikolai Yasimov reported to his General. "General, we will be set up within the hour. Peter can begin assembly of the devices as soon as the men have finished moving the components into the barn."

"Good, Nikolai," Vostok mused. "However, we are still in need of our friend, the good Doctor."

"Do you think that Doctor Arman will be interested in our offer?"

"I do not care if he is interested or not." Vostok growled as the brisk, autumn wind whipped about his muscular form. "He will provide us with what we require. It is up to him if he cooperates. Regardless, his fate is already sealed."

The edge of the blonde Colonel's lip curled into an excited sneer. "Yes, Sir." Then he added, "What about the rest of the materials?"

"Peter can begin assembling the devices with what we have provided. The rest we will just have to procure."

Nikolai nodded, "Understood, General."

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Pacing the length of her hotel room, Jade scowled as her call continued to its fifth ring. Stopping in front of the mirror, she gazed at her reflection, disturbed at she appeared to be so wound up. Enticed by the lucrative offer, Jade had never once thought that there could be more to this job than what she had been told. However, her happenstance sighting of the American Intelligence Agent had changed all that. Even if I-1 was here for different reasons, it made her job that much more complicated. Any chance encounter with the intelligence agency could greatly hinder her mission, not to mention she imagined Agent Corbin was still sour from the last time they had crossed paths. The memory made Jade smile.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself just as her call was picked up, "I knew you were good, but I can't imagine you've already finished the job." The male voice on the other end stated.

"We've got a problem." Jade reported, her tone conveying her frustrations.

"What problem?"

"There are American Intelligence Agents here," Jade shot back. "What's this really all about?"

The man on the other end was quiet for some time, leading Jade to believe the news was just as much of a shock to him as it had been to her. Finally, "That is not a problem."

"It's a problem for me. Do you think they're here for the same thing I am?" Jade asked.

"It does not matter why they are there. Your only concern is to retrieve what you are being paid to retrieve."

"What if they interfere?" Jade pushed.

"Then eliminate them." The man replied coolly.

Jade sneered at the order. "I'm not a killer."

"I've heard that for the right price, you will do anything." The man chuckled.

"Save it," Jade said. "It's not like they're some hired goons or lowlife scumbags. These are highly trained professional agents. You can't just off one of them so easily. But even if you could, you'd have the American Government breathing down your neck. I didn't sign up for that."

"Are you dissolving our contract, Miss Jade?" The man's words were laced with venom.

Sighing, Jade brushed a hand through her dark hair. "No, of course not. I'll get you what you want, but the price just went up."

"I see."

"I want a ten percent increase on my payment."

"Five." The man countered.

Sticking to her guns, Jade held firm. "Ten or you can come here at get it yourself for all I care."

Another pause and then, "Fine. Ten percent. But if those agents get in between you and my merchandise,"

"Don't worry," Jade smiled wickedly. "If they get in the way, I'll take care of them."

"Very good. Do not call again until you have gotten what you've been hired to retrieve."

Jade ended the call and placed the cell phone down on the dresser. As her reflection gazed back at her, she felt a calm wash through her body. With a coy smile she said, "For an additional ten percent, I'll make sure Agent Corbin and whomever is working with him do not interfere."

Striding into the restroom, Jade turned on the shower. She had to get ready for her next meet.

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Back at the hotel, Race withdrew the camera from his jacket pocket and handed it to Corbin before taking off the garment. As Phil powered up his laptop Race went over to the kitchenette and grabbed two bottles of Staropramen beer from the mini fridge. Grabbing an opener from the counter, he popped the tops off than went and sat down.

Setting one of the beers on the table in front of Phil, Race observed his partner. His brow furrowed, Race watched the other man open the camera and push on the inserted card, causing it to pop out. Withdrawing the memory card, Phil set it on the table then grabbed the beer. "Thanks." He mumbled.

Race took a long pull from his own bottle then said, "So did you see anything back at the Square?"

Phil shook his head, "No. If Vostok is here, either he doesn't know we are or he doesn't care."

"What else?" Race asked. Since they had met back up, the other agent was acting strange.

Taking a drink, Phil looked at Race and said, "It's nothing. I thought I might have seen someone I recognized, but it must have been a trick of the light."

"Who?" Race asked, but before Phil could answer the laptop whirred to life.

Turning to device on the table so they could both see, Phil inserted the card from the camera into the corresponding slot. As Phil clicked past the plethora of photos, Race chuckled as he took another swig of his beer, "Those two took a lot of pictures."

Smirking Phil agreed. "No kidding. But they had to make sure no one suspected they were anything more than a happy married couple on vacation."

"They played the part well, that's for sure." Race added, "I didn't know I-1 employed such a, how do you say, wide variety of agents."

Looking back at Race, Phil shook his head, "They don't work for I-1. Like I said before, they work for one of our international partners. Those two were so good you didn't even realize they weren't really Americans, did you?"

Race couldn't hide his shock, "Not at all. But aren't they a little old for field work?"

Phil shrugged as he turned his attention back to the computer. "Some people just can't give it up."

"That's going to be you one day, Phil." Race joked.

Taking a drink, Phil grumbled. "Bullshit! When I retire, I'm done."

Race laughed, "Yeah right. I'm gonna remember that." Not realizing he had already down the entire bottle of beer, it was smooth after all, Race stood, "You want another?"

"Sure." Phil said as he scrolled through the folders displayed on the laptop screen.

Clicking on one of the folders, a number of documents appeared on the screen. Clicking on the one labeled symposium, they found a roster of attendees and the name of the keynote speaker at the dinner, a Doctor Benton Quest.

"You know him?" Phil asked as he gestured at the name on the screen.

Shaking his head, Race replied, "No. Should I?"

"He's an up and coming R&D scientist and recently published a paper on bio-defense, hence his invitation to the symposium as a guest speaker. His wife, Doctor Rachel Quest, is well known amongst the scientific community for her work in the biomedical field and is already behind some remarkable advances in the field of medicine. Mark my words, Race, Quest Enterprises, their private start-up research firm, is going to be huge someday."

"A couple of brilliant eggheads, huh?" Race joked.

"Smarter than the two of us, that's for damn sure." Phil replied with a smirk as he took a swig of his beer.

"This dinner isn't until Saturday evening," Phil said as he returned his attention to the documents. "That gives us plenty of time to locate Vostok."

"You think he's already in Prague?" Race asked.

"He has to be." Phil said as he leaned back from the laptop. "It wouldn't make sense if he wasn't."

"What if we can't find Arman or Vostok?" Race thought. "We don't even know Vostok's target."

Phil rubbed his chin at Race's words. "That's part of the problem. If we can't stop the exchange of the biological agent that Vostok plans to integrate into his weapon, we would need to stop the actual attack." Nodding at Race's revelation, Phil said, "Good thinking, Race, but let's hope we can find those two men first."

Race agreed and reached for the computer to scroll back to the previous folders, searching for one that had previously caught his eye. "What's this?" He mused.

Leaning in to look at the document, Phil studied it with a look on concern.

"This looks like a list of bomb making materials. We used similar components during my days with the SEALs." Race explained.

"Probably a list of items that Vostok couldn't get on his own?" Phil pondered. "Can you get this stuff here?"

"Possibly, but it would definitely cause suspicion." Race replied. "But I'd bet that the Garrison has these items." The mention of the Prague Castle soldiers caused both men to frown. "The question is, is Vostok bold enough to infiltrate the Castle?"

"If it's his only option, I'd say yes." Phil replied.

"Then we need to warn them."

"I don't know, Race," Phil scratched the side of his face as he spoke, "If we alert the Garrison on nothing but a hunch, then not only is our cover blown, but if Vostok finds out then he'll just go back into hiding."

"Phil," Race started.

"How about this, Race? Tonight we concentrate of finding Arman before Vostok does. Then we'd at least we'll have tabs on the Kazakhstani. Tomorrow, we'll check out the Garrison's security situation. Vostok can't do anything with Arman at the moment, but if we can't catch them tonight I'd bet money they'll be at the Castle tomorrow."

"Sounds logical." Race agreed even though he wasn't too keen on the idea of not informing the Castle Guards of a possible threat.

As if to reaffirm his position, Phil added, "The priority is making sure that Vostok doesn't get his hands on a biological agent from Arman."

"So how do we find Arman?" Race asked.

"Where did the old lady tell you to go tonight?" Phil asked.

"St. Martin in the Wall. What is that anyways?" Race asked.

Raising an eyebrow at the other man, Phil said, "Really? Next time I'll make sure you have a geography and history lesson prior to arrival."

"What?" Race laughed.

"It's a church." Phil smiled. "Jesus, Bannon, at least try not to live up to the stereotype of being a knuckle-dragging grunt. Good thing you're not a tutor."

"Like I'm supposed to know it's a church. I've never been to Prague before."

"Neither have I, Hero. But I do know how to read a book." Phil joked as he took another drink.

"Screw you, Phil." Race laughed. Unlike his previous partners since Temple's death, Race felt at ease with Corbin. He took his job seriously, but also had a sense of humor and from what Race could tell, the intelligence necessary to make on the spot decisions that could mean the difference between life and death.

Opening up the internet tab on the laptop, Phil did a quick search for the concert times at St. Martin. "What concert did she say?"

"Mozart." Race replied.

As Phil scanned the times, he joked, "You do know who he was, right?"

"Like I said, Screw you, Phil." Race laughed as he downed the last of his beer.

Setting the bottle down, Race stood and glanced at the clock on the wall. "What time is the concert?"

"Eight tonight." Phil replied. "I suggest we get changed and go get something to eat. I hope you brought a tie with you."

Race smirked, "Yeah, I did. You know that old lady also suggested I take a date."

"Good luck finding a date between now and then, Race." Phil said as he also stood. "Maybe you can go sweet talk one the ladies down in the lobby because I'm sure as hell not going as your date."

Laughing, Race said, "That wasn't what I meant."

"Good." Phil grinned and made a mocking gestured of wiping his forehead. "Now go get ready. I assume you want to take the lead on this one again as well, right?"

"Sure." Race replied.

"Alright, meet you downstairs in thirty minutes." Phil said.

"See you then." Race replied. Grabbing his jacket he headed for the door.

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Race made his way, alone, into the Church of St. Martin in the Wall. A small structure, compared to some of the other churches and cathedrals within Old Town, it still attracted a number of tourists and music lovers each evening. Race adjusted his tie as he grabbed a pamphlet and found a vacant seat.

Acting as if he was interested in the brochure, Race scanned the crowd as more guests continued to filter into the makeshift music hall.

"Anything?" Corbin's voiced chirped in his ear.

Phil had taken up position outside the church. He was seated at an outdoor cafe, under one of the large portable heaters, sipping a beer. Race actually found himself a tad jealous of the other man, but he had agreed to taking the lead and he didn't mind enjoying a classical performance every now and again. 'Knuckle-dragging grunt my ass.' Race mused to himself.

"Nothing yet," Race started with a low whisper, "wait, stand by." His eyes fell upon an older man that matched the description of the disgraced scientist. Luckily the chatter of the guests still filled the room as they waited for the performance to start so no one took notice of Race.

Keeping his eyes on the man, he watched as the scientist glanced around, as if waiting for someone. "Target acquired." Race reported. Doctor Arman must have blended in with the crowd as they made their way into the church or he had entered from a different way, hence why Phil must have missed him.

"Excellent." Corbin said.

As a group of college aged kids made their way to their seats, Race looked down at this pamphlet once again, but kept Arman in sight out of the corner of his eye. As the older man looked around, Race noticed the scientist perk up suddenly. Race watched as an elegant and beautiful woman approached Arman and seductively hooked her arm under his. Her short dark hair accented her angular facial features perfectly and her deep green eyes shone with a look of mysterious intrigue. Race, along with Arman and a handful of the other male occupants in the room took notice of how her form fitting black dress, which obviously was not warm enough in the chilly autumn weather, but no one seemed to mind, enhanced her curves. Race felt his heart skip a beat as he took in the sight of the woman. As the newly formed couple made their way to two unoccupied seats, Race saw Arman whisper something to the woman, causing her to throw her head back in let out a playful laugh.

"Damn." Race breathed, causing a woman sitting in front of him to turn around and give him a sour look.

"What is it?" Corbin asked.

Having momentarily forgotten about the mic and that Phil could hear him, he shook his head at his stupidity. "Arman is here and he's in the company of one stunningly fine lady."

"What does she look like?" Corbin asked.

Race picked up on the concern of his partner's voice; it wasn't coached with the tone of typical male curiosity, but more of a request for a professional assessment. Thinking back to their earlier conversation, Race recalled the fact that Phil never did get to explaining who it was that he had thought he saw back at Wenceslas Square.

As the lights dimmed, Race whispered, "The performance is starting."

Corbin growled in his ear, "Damnit, Race." Then after a moment, "Just keep your eyes on those two. If they leave, follow them."

"Understood." Race whispered as the woman in front of him shushed him quiet.

Almost an hour later, Corbin had switched from beer to tea as he watched the front entrance of the Church of St. Martin in the Wall. Pulling at his collar, he readjusted the knot of his tie that was tucked under his sweater. He hadn't heard anything more from Race, but assumed the neither Doctor Arman nor his associate had left. Drumming his fingers on the table, he sighed and remained calm, reminding himself that in the grand scheme of things, this stakeout had been relatively short so far.

But Race's report about Arman's female companion had him on edge. Kicking himself inwardly about blowing off his early premonition, he could only hope that he was still in fact wrong about who he thought he saw. If it was her, an entirely new dynamic was just tossed into their laps.

As he sipped his tea, he saw a group of kids exit the church and move off to the side to light up some smokes. Taking a chance he raised his cup to his lips and said, "What's going on in there, Race?"

A few moments later, Race replied quietly, "It's ended. People are leaving."

"What about the targets?"

"Stand by." Race shot back.

Phil watched as some more people exited the church. Standing, he threw some money on the table and snatched his leather jacket from the back of his chair. Quickly, but not quick enough to raise suspicion, headed towards the church.

"They're splitting up." Race said. "Arman appears to be headed in your direction. I'll follow the woman."

Growling under his breath, Corbin replied, "Got it." Still on the opposite side of the street, Corbin watched as a few more people came outside to join the group of college kids, as others headed off in different directions. A moment later, Doctor Arman appeared. Corbin watched the man glance left and then right a number of times, then headed northeast down the sidewalk.

"I've got him," Phil reported. Staying on his side of the street, Phil tailed the Kazakhstani scientist.

Race lingered amongst the dwindling crowd and watched as the woman slipped through one of the side doors of the church. Counting silently to himself, Race waited the appropriate time to follow, then discreetly made his way through the same door as the mysterious woman. A short hallway let to another door that was just closing as Race entered the hall.

Quickening his pace, Race pushed through the door and found himself in the rear lot of the church. Voices drifted through the dark night from the front of the church, but as he traversed the deserted back lot, the voices grew fainter. Pulling his sidearm from his concealed holster, Race held the weapon low as he peered off into the darkness. The sound of hurried footsteps receding into the distance filled his ears and picking up his pace, he caught sight of the woman disappearing off to the right about fifty yards ahead of him.

Race took off after her, not wanting to lose the woman in the dark. If she was meeting with Arman on business, then she obviously knew something about what was going on and possibly Vostok's location.

Whispering into his mic, Race reported, "I see the woman. In pursuit behind the church."

Not waiting for a response, Race made his way towards where she had disappeared into the shadows. Slowing as he approached the blind turn, Race sucked in his breath. Raising his weapon, he stole a quick glance around the blind corner, but saw only darkness. Moving quickly, he kept his firearm level and moved around the corner.

As soon as he did, he heard a rush of air and a sharp pain snapped through his forearm. As an involuntary yelp escaped from his lips, Race dropped the handgun and staggered forward from the momentum of the blow.

"Race, what happened?" He heard immediately in his ear. But a moment later, he felt a solid whack to the side of his head. Grunting from the onslaught of the white-hot pain that shot through his skull, Race collapsed to the ground.

"Damnit, Race, answer me." He heard Corbin order, but the pain in his head was too great to illicit a response from Race.

Lying face down on the cold ground, Race heard the distinct clicks of the woman's high heels as she sauntered towards him from her concealed hiding spot. Bending at the knees, she lightly picked up Race's fallen sidearm.

"So you're one of the Americans, huh?" The woman purred as Race groaned. "I didn't realize Intelligence One Agents were so careless as to step right into an ambush."

Race felt a tapping on the side of his head and realized the woman was toying with him, tapping her retractable baton against his temple. "You are a handsome fellow, that's for sure." She smiled, "It's too bad I'll have to eventually get rid of you. I can't have you interfering in my affairs."

"Who...are..." Race tried to speak, but doing so made his head spin even more.

Jade laughed seductively at the wounded man's attempt to speak, "Oh, before this is over you will know exactly who I am."

Hearing the pounding of hurried footsteps approaching, Jade realized she was out of time; the other Intel man was on his way to help his fallen comrade. "But for now, I advise you to stay out of my way. That is if you know what's best for you." Laughing, Jade tossed Race's weapon to the ground and stepping backwards, she blended into the shadows of the abandoned alleyway and disappeared.

Rolling onto his back, Race shut his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he was lying there before Corbin arrived. As the other man came onto the scene, Race opened his eyes, but his vision was still fuzzy.

Corbin pulled his own pistol as he knelt next to Race, "What the hell happened, Race?"

"She...she jumped me." He managed to say.

"Damn," Corbin grumbled. "Just stay down for a minute." Standing back up Phil headed off into the darkened alley, but a few moments later, Race heard him return. "She's gone." Phil said as he holstered his weapon and slowly helped Race up into a seated position.

His head swam, but within a few moments, his equilibrium began to balance out. Putting his hand to his head, he felt his hair was sticky, a trail of blood running down from where the woman had smacked him with the baton.

"Can you walk?" Phil asked as he put a hand on Race's arm.

Race tried to nod, but the movement caused a wave of nausea rack his body. "Give me a minute."

Keeping his hands on Race to hold him steady, Phil asked, "How'd she get the jump on you?"

"Stupid mistake on my part." Race said after a few minutes.

Retrieving Race's weapon and handing it back to him, Phil said, "At least she was kind enough to leave this."

"Yeah, and not use it to put a bullet in my head."

"That too." Phil said as Race pushed himself to his feet. Keeping him steady, Phil watched for any sign of wavering in his friend's posture. "We should get back to the hotel."

"What about Arman?" Race asked.

"I had to pull off when I heard you through the mic. I had no idea what was happening to you."

"Great," Race cursed himself. "So now we've lost both our leads."

"For now, but don't worry, we'll pick them up again." Phil replied, but Race had the feeling the veteran agent was just being nice due to Race's current state. The reality was that because Race had acted foolishly, both Doctor Arman and his mysterious companion were able to escape.

Holstering his firearm, Race grumbled, "Let's just get the hell out of here, Phil." as his throbbing head and forearm became overshadowed by his own uncertainty.

Making their way back to the street, they headed off in the direction of the Ventana Hotel. The groups of tourists and evening goers took no notice of the two men, figuring Race's wobbly footsteps were more than likely caused by a quick night of drinking versus getting smacked in the head with a baton. As they waited to cross one of the streets, Race turned to his companion and said, "From the way you reacted earlier, I got the feeling you know that woman, Phil."

"Beautiful woman, with short dark hair and very provocative curves in all the right places?" Corbin asked with a sly smile on his face.

"Yeah, exactly." Race replied.

"Bannon, you just had your first encounter with the very cunning woman known as Jezebel Jade." Phil stated.

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To Be Continued...