Disclaimer: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest is owned by Hanna-Barbara. No money is being made from this story. It is simply by a fan for other fans.
Chapter 4
"Sir, we have a problem," Kosta stated as he strode into the small room that served as his team's command center.
Drazen raised his eyes from the text he was reading and glared at the man. "What problem?"
"According to our men in D.C. the I-1 agent survived."
Drazen slammed the book closed, causing Kosta the flinch. "What? How could that happen?"
Kosta shrugged as he answered, "She didn't follow the instructions. I suppose she assumed he was dead when she left."
"You suppose?" Drazen rumbled under his breath.
Kosta shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. "I did say…"
"You said what exactly, Kosta?" Drazen pressed. He stood and moved next to the other man, inches from his face.
"I told you using the woman was a bad idea," Kosta replied. Drazen was definitely intimidating; however Kosta had grown up in the same Regiment and went through the same hardships as Drazen. In the world they lived in, showing fear would get you killed and quickly.
"Oh yes you did, didn't you, Kosta? You know what's best now don't you?" Drazen was furious, but managed to keep his anger in check. After all, Kosta was right, but Drazen would never admit to it, even to his trusted Lieutenant.
"It is obvious now that the woman wasn't up to the task. To continue to use her could prove disastrous." Kosta stated. "You know we never needed her in the first place." He added.
Kosta watched as Drazen's eyes narrowed, perturbed at what Kosta was saying. "We couldn't get inside Intelligence One."
"We could have gotten Corbin somewhere else. We could have snatched him, dug the information out of him, and killed him ourselves. At least then we would have known he was dead for sure."
Drazen remained silent and stroked his chin, deep in thought. "What's done is done."
Kosta nodded and continued. "We should call Malik; have him eliminate Estella and the next target. We have Delic's file."
"But we don't have the girl. And Delic's file tells us nothing."
Kosta shook his head. "It tells us that the Americans are willing to go to great risks to hide Delic from us."
Drazen sat down and thought out loud. "If Intelligence One is hiding Delic, but keeping him alive, then it means he hasn't given them what they want…yet."
"Probably because he wants the girl as well." Kosta guessed.
Drazen nodded. "She is the key to everything. She holds the final secrets that we…and our backers need."
"The I-1 agent had to store her data somewhere. There has to be a trace." Kosta thought. "No way he's taking care of her alone. Someone has to know."
Drazen shrugged. "That is likely." He slowly nodded. "I will admit, to you Kosta, perhaps we went after him to soon. But eliminating him was necessary so he couldn't warn her. Unfortunately, I assumed Delic's file would contain her information. I underestimated Corbin's determination to protect her."
"He didn't even tell Estella and she was part of the initial escape." Kosta reminded his partner in crime.
"Yes," Drazen slapped his palms together and declared, "But we cannot dwell on any of that now. Malik has Estella and they are en-route to the next target. Corbin is as good as eliminated and he's inaccessible now, they'll have him guarded day and night. Let's look at the Delic file and see if we can find anything else out about where he might be located or who he might have confided in."
Kosta grinned, standing around was not what he was used to. "What about Estella's girl?"
"Oh yes," The words slithered from Drazen tongue like venom, "I had almost forgotten about her. She needs to be told of her mother's failure and reminded that we are not a group that takes failure lightly."
Kosta nodded as he reached behind his back and produced a long, sharp combat knife that he kept sheathed at the small of his back. "Here, use my knife, brother Drazen. It hasn't tasted blood in some time."
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Jonny took in the scene with explorative eyes. The office of the Director of Intelligence One was spacious, but at the moment it was crowded with agents from both I-1 and the FBI as they conducted their crime scene analysis. They had arrived at the building only moments before and were escorted unceremoniously to the office. Jonny could feel the tension in the air and felt a sense of pity for his bodyguard, Race Bannon, who was catching a lot of angry looks from his fellow agents as they made their way down the halls of the federal building.
Standing at the threshold of the office, Jonny watched as two men, one from the FBI and one from I-1, notice the group and came over. Race extended his hand to the older man. "Sir, sorry to have to report under these circumstances."
SA Simpson nodded. "What news from the hospital?"
Race shook his head. "Well, Corbin survived, but that's all we know. His father wouldn't let us see him."
Simpson took in the information and continued. "Well, we won't know what really happened until he wakes up."
"Or till we catch the shooter," The FBI agent said.
Race felt like the man hit him in the gut with those words. "And you are?" he asked.
"SSA Derek Morgan. I work with SSA Hotchner at the FBI's BAU."
"May we have a look around?" Hadji asked the two men that currently stood between them and the crime scene.
Agent Morgan was a tad perplexed that two teenagers were at the scene and gave the I-1 agent a look. Simpson nodded and said, "It's okay. The Quests are well…a unique group." He shot a smile at Benton. Simpson's cell phone rang, and snatching it from his pocket he mumbles, "Excuse me." as he left the office to take his call.
Morgan shook his head, "Alright then." and then walked away.
"Maybe a fresh set of eyes can reveal something hidden," Hadji replied.
The group entered the room and took in the scene. Race's investigative skills were alert and tingling. He approached Agent Morgan again and asked, "So what do we know?"
"From the looks of the scene it appears he was set up."
"What do you mean?" Benton asked.
Another FBI agent came over to the group; Morgan introduced him as Doctor Spencer Reid. Reid smiled and addressed Doctor Quest. "Doctor Quest, this is truly an honor to meet you in person. I attended your lecture on Quantum Physics at Georgetown last year and I must say…"
"Reid!" Morgan cut him off.
Benton smiled at the young man's enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that Doctor Quest was greeted by an admirer so young and he was already a PhD as well!
Reid mumbled, "Sorry. Just a bit of hero worship."
"It's alright. Perhaps when this is all over we can talk a bit more on the subject from the Georgetown lecture."
Reid's face lit up and he nodded vigorously. "Sounds great! Anyways, as to what Agent Morgan said, we think that Agent Corbin was set up."
"Again, how do you know that?" Jonny asked.
"We know that Ms. Velasquez came into the room and was visibly distraught. Ms. Saunder's already confirmed that. Probably in an attempt to make her feel at ease, Agent Corbin closed the blinds." Reid pointed towards the far end of the room where a water bottle lay unopened. "It looks like he must have retrieved a bottle of water for her and when his back was turned she produced the weapon, catching him off guard."
"Do we know how she got into the building?" Jonny asked.
"Fraudulent security badge. But the strange thing is, it was in her name."
Race took the information as he carefully stepped towards Corbin's desk, it wasn't easy to fake I-1 credentials, so they were obviously dealing with someone or some group that had connections.
The blood on the carpet was almost dry and there were splatters of blood on the desk.
"Looks like she used a suppressed .32," Morgan added as he came over and stood next to Race. "We found two shell casings near the desk where he was found. Forensics thinks he was shot once while standing and then the last shot came straight down from above." He made a firing motion with his fingers. "She shot him in the back as he lay helpless on the floor. Cold."
"So she pulled the gun on him over there," Jonny surmised, "but shot him over by the desk. Why?"
"She had to pull the gun when his back was turned to take him my surprise. No way could she have controlled him any other way," Benton suggested. "Corbin's a strong man so the only way she could get him to do what she wanted was to threaten him with a gun. He would have easily subdued her if she had tried to attack him any other way."
"Our tech analyst is working with I-1 to get access to his computer now," Morgan said. "Why do you think she did it, Agent Bannon?"
Race rubbed his chin. "Call me, Race. And like you said, she set him up, but she wouldn't do this on her own. Estella is not a killer. And even if she was, she would have shot him when his back was turned. No, she wasn't here just to kill him; she needed something from him as well."
"Ummm…." Reid started.
"What I mean is she has no reason to do this, unless…" Race felt that tug of worry in his stomach and once again pulled out his cell to try and call Jessie. The number went straight to voicemail.
"What are you thinking?" Morgan asked.
"Her hand was forced. She was ordered to do this."
Morgan glanced at his fellow FBI agent. "There's no evidence of involvement of anyone other than her." He watched intuitively as Race tried to call Jessie again. When it again went straight to voicemail he tried Estella's number, but received the same voicemail response. "Who are you trying to call?"
"My daughter. She's missing as well."
Jonny caught on to what Race was saying and felt his heart sink. The only reason Estella would try to kill Corbin is to protect Jessie. But protect her from what?
"So you think someone has your daughter and is manipulating your ex-wife to kill?" Reid asked, a hint of skepticism was evident in his tone.
"You got a better explanation?" Race retorted.
Reid shook his head, unperturbed by the roughness in Race's tone. "No. When was the last time you spoke to either of them?"
"A couple days ago. Jessie called from Brazil. She was down there with her mother assisting on a dig. Estella is an archeologist."
"Do you know where exactly?"
"Amazon Stonehenge, in the North."
Morgan pulled his phone and placed a call to the FBI tech analyst. "Hey, Baby Girl. I need you to work your magic."
"Anything for my Sugar Bear."
"You're on speaker Garcia," Morgan said, smiling as he shook his head. "Can you access satellite imagery from the last seventy-two hours over the Amazon Stonehenge ruins in Brazil?"
"Anything for you, my sweet. What am I looking for?"
"Anything involving the group working an excavation at that site. A young girl and her mother went missing from there."
"The same woman that shot Hotch's cousin?" Garcia asked. The sound of her typing furiously away on her keyboard could be heard filling in as background noise.
"We believe so. This is deeper than just a simple attempted murder. Looks like it could involve outside sources and possibly even kidnapping."
"Got it."
"How's it going with getting access to his computer?" Morgan asked.
"Sweetie, there's a reason I work for the FBI and not Intelligence One," Garcia replied.
"Huh?"
"I never could hack the system. I mean, I-1's network security protocols are massive. Super intense. That super awesome, genius scientist Doctor Benton Quest and his kids built it! I mean can you believe that an agency like Intelligence One is using security protocols built by teenagers?"
"Well, thank you, young lady," Dr. Quest said into the speaker.
"What? Who's that?" The woman on the other end gasped.
"Doctor Benton Quest," He replied.
"Oh my god," Garcia blurted.
"I know, right!" Reid threw in like a giddy child.
"Morgan, you are so dead. You didn't say anything about him being there! Oh god."
Morgan was grinning from ear to ear. "It's alright, Baby Girl. Just get me those images."
"Call you back," Garcia said quickly and hung up.
"So," Benton said, "what else do we know?"
The team glanced around. The crime scene was pretty straight-forward. "Oh, Agent Corbin's service weapon was still in his desk drawer," Reid added.
"What does that tell us?" Hadji asked.
"That he didn't feel threatened enough to pull it when he saw Ms. Velasquez enter. It also confirms that she set him up, played some sort of ruse on him, probably involving your daughter."
"But it might not have been a ruse at all," Jonny said, somewhat flustered how the FBI agents still seemed to assume that Estella acted alone. They didn't seem very concerned that Jessie had been kidnapped either.
Benton added, "It also means that whoever sent her here knew that information as well."
"Didn't she used to work for this agency?" Morgan asked.
"That was almost a decade ago," Race defended. "She wouldn't know his habits like that."
"Well someone did," Hadji stated. "And whoever that someone is it appears that is the person that sent Estella here."
Race's phone rang and he quickly snatched it from his pocket, hoping it was Jessie calling him back. "Hello?"
It wasn't.
Race listened to the other line and said, "Okay, we're on our way," and hung up.
"That was your boss," Race told the FBI profilers. "He said Phil is awake so we're heading back there to talk to him."
Morgan and Reid nodded.
"We'll let you know when our tech finds the images from Brazil. If you can, ask Agent Corbin if he remembers what he was doing on the computer. If you're right and Estella was sent here to gain information we need to know what that information was," Morgan said dryly.
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Jessie contemplated eating the last hunk of stale bread the guard had brought her. On one hand she was starving and needed the energy, but on the other she had no idea how long she was going to be trapped and if the guard would bring her anything to eat again in the near future. She set the bread down on the bunk and just as she did she heard footsteps stop in front of the door.
Jessie blinked against the light as the eye slit in the door opened.
"Turn around and face the wall," the guard ordered.
Jessie did as instructed, knowing she was too weak to rush the guard if he opened the door.
"Do not move." the guard said.
Jessie heard the loud metallic clank as the door to her prison was unlocked and opened. Instinctually she started to turn her head to try and catch a glimpse of the man, but a rough hand was on the back of her neck almost immediately.
"I said not to move," The man growled in her ears.
Jessie caught a whiff of his breath and gagged. He stank like garlic and cigarettes.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," Jessie replied, but was ignored.
The guard slipped a dark bag over her head and then handcuffed her hands behind her back. Any hope she had mustered for a possible escape attempt drained from her body as she felt the cuffs slapped onto her wrists.
"Keep your mouth shut," The guard instructed and with a firm, almost painful grip on her shoulder he maneuvered her out of the cell.
Jessie willed herself to remain calm, recalling to mind the meditation techniques that Hadji had taught her. As her pounding heart slowed and her breathing calmed she attempted to take in her surroundings using the senses that were still available to her.
The hallway smelled musty, with a strange hint of something that Jessie thought could be salt water. She started counting her footsteps as well so she could determine the distance between her cell and wherever she was being taken; it could prove useful if she found a chance to escape. As they walked further down the hall she could hear noises growing louder; rough voices laughing and arguing, but in a foreign language.
As she took all this information in and cataloged it into her mind, the guard pulled her to a stop and then she heard a door directly in front of her open. The sounds of the men were much louder and she deduced they were inside the room she was being led into. The voices did not lower so she assumed whoever the men were, they were unconcerned by her presence.
After ten steps the guard stopped her and pushed her down into a metal chair. He then quickly and efficiently un-cuffed one of her hands and then attached the cuff to the chair. The hood was pulled from her head and Jessie immediately squinted against the influx of light.
Slowly opening her eyes, she glanced around at her surroundings. The men she had heard laughing were off to her left, seated around a table playing some sort of card game. She could see what looked like money on the table and rifles leaned up against the wall. The men smoked and drank and ignored her. She also noticed an old television next to their table on a stand. An old Top Cat cartoon was playing, but again the voices of the characters on the screen were not ones which she could understand.
Turning her head to the right, she saw a man staring at her. He was calm and had an evil smirk on his face. His arms crossed over his burly chest, he stared at her intently to the point that Jessie felt even more uncomfortable than she already was and she turned away.
"Ah, what is the matter, little girl?" The man asked. His English was good, but with a strong accent. He grabbed her chin and turned her head, so she was forced to look at him. His grip was strong and it was starting to hurt.
"Why are you holding me?" Jessie asked through her clenched jaw.
"I need you," the man replied and released her chin. He took a few steps and was now directly in front of her. Another man came over with a chair and placed it on the floor and the man, obviously the leader Jessie thought, sat down. His posture was impeccable and he picked at his fingernails on his left hand with his right. His behavior gave Jessie the creeps.
"My dad is going to find you and he's going to kill you," Jessie blurted defiantly.
The man laughed as did the men at the table. Their confidence was overwhelming. "I do not think so…Ponchita."
Jessie blinked as she heard the man speak her childhood nickname her father had given her Even the thought that this deranged man that had taken her hostage knew such an intimate detail about her made Jessie ill. She bit back the sour taste that rose in the back of her throat and asked, "What do you want from me?"
The man leaned forward, his face so close to hers that she could see that while his teeth were straight they were not very clean; He's not as dashing as he's trying to look, she thought. It indicated to her that perhaps he had been in prison, an environment where personal hygiene tended to fall to the way side. He smelled of cologne and sweat. She noticed all the other men had stopped their conversations and were watching the exchange. The only sound was Top Cat as he teased Officer Charlie Dibble in some foreign tongue.
"Please, if you let me go now…"
"I am not going to let you go until your mother does what she is supposed to do."
Jessie's face twisted in confusion. "My mother?"
The man nodded. "And right now she needs some persuasion." Jessie watched as he reached behind his back and pulled out a large, glistening knife, the grin on his face that of pure evil.
"Please…"
"Don't worry, Ponchita. If you don't struggle, it won't hurt. At least not too much." He stood and moved next to the girl.
To Be Continued…
Author's Notes: This is the last chapter that I pulled from the previous story, so all I needed to do was make some revisions. That also means that my updates may not be as quick as they have been since I posted this story. I will be working as much as possible on this, but we all know that life gets in the way sometimes.