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.

A/N: To all: Thank you to all those that have left reviews; and thank you to all those that have read my tale so far. I hope you all are enjoying it. For those that have read my previous stories, I promise, there will be more action and soon, I'm trying to build the backstory which takes up a lot of my prose.

To Guest: Thank you for the review. I can guarantee you that Jonny will not be teaming up with Marissa. She and her sister are minor characters that may only show up one more time. I added them simply to show that more people other than the Quests and Bannons are being affected by the events in this story.

To Geist1321: Thanks for all the reviews so far. I hope you are still enjoying. I'll try and make the chapter updates more often, but like I said, it's hard writing while being deployed.

To Goddess Evie: You always stick with me and for that I am forever grateful. I know how busy you are so that is why I have not asked you to Beta read for me, so I'm winging these on my own! As much as you want, I'm trying so very hard not to make this into an Estella and Corbin story, but you know I have difficulty with getting the kids engaged (and you know how much I love writing minor characters from the show like Corbin into my stories…okay I just love Corbin LOL). However, I promise there will be plenty of action from the kids coming soon!

Chapter 6

Present Day

The hospital room was bright. The overhead lights made Race squint as he stepped towards the bed. He saw his boss; Phil Corbin was sitting up in the bed, wires twisting under his shirt, an IV drip in his arm. A monitor off to the side of his bed kept his vital signs in check. His left arm was in a sling, probably to immobilize his broken collarbone, an injury that Race knew from first- hand experience was extremely painful. The right side of his face was bruised and he had a bandage above his eye, a small amount of blood had seeped through. Race saw that the FBI agent, Hotchner, was standing over Corbin, speaking to him in a low whisper.

Race and Benton approached and stood at the end of the bed. He looks like hell. Race thought. "Hey, Phil." It was all he could think to say.

Corbin didn't respond right away, his eyes just studied Race and Benton. The silence was definitely awkward and Race started to shift his weight from foot to foot. "How you feeling?' He finally asked.

"Like I've been shot." Phil replied, his voice was low and hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I called us in." Race said.

Corbin shook his head, but he didn't respond.

"They called us when you were in surgery, just told us to come down immediately." Benton added.

"What have you been told?"

"Not much." Race replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

Hotchner whispered something to Phil, but it was too low for either Race or Benton to hear.

Phil sighed and rolled his eyes. The physical pain was evident in his body language, but Race picked up something else as well. He got the impression that Phil was hesitant about sharing any information. "They told us that it was Estella."

Phil looked back at Race, his countenance devoid of any emotion. It was a look that troubled him.

"She did." Phil said.

"Why?"

"You really don't need to be doing this." Hotchner said to his cousin.

"We need answers." Race prodded, irritated with the FBI agent's interference.

Race held his superior's gaze, unwilling to look away. "Tell us something, Phil."

Phil took a sip of water and exhaled. "Estella shot me. What more do you want to know?"

"How about why she shot you for starters?" Race said perturbed.

"You'd have to ask her." Phil replied evenly.

"Phil, please," Benton cut in, seeing that even Corbin was giving Race the cold shoulder. "We're just here to help. Someone has both Estella and Jessie."

Phil lowered his eyes and was silent for so long that Race thought he might have fallen asleep. His eyes fell on a device with a button on the blanket, next to Corbin's hand. He assumed it was for self-administration of the pain killers that were hooked through the IV.

Finally, Phil looked back at the two men, his eyes a bit softer. "I know. Estella told me, before," He lifted his one good arm and made a waving gestured at himself, "before she did this." Then to Race's and apparently the other men's surprise, Phil start to laugh.

"Phil?" Hotchner said. Race noticed the FBI agent was one of the most serious looking people he'd ever met. He wondered if the man ever smiled.

Phil shook his head and he stopped laughing. "It's fine." He turned his attention back to the other men, but addressed Benton. "Doctor Quest, do you remember a man named Yuri Delic?"

Benton attempted to recall the name, it was there in his mind, but it was vague. "I recall the name." He said, still thinking as he stroked his reddish-brown beard that had started to sprout a few random grey hairs.

"Who's this Delic character?" Race asked, "Is he the one that's holding Jessie?" He felt the fire of rage start to burn in his chest.

Phil shook his head, "No, Delic's dead."

Race studied the man; something in his response didn't add up. Race reminded himself that Corbin, while a trustworthy ally and friend, tended to keep information secret that was deemed need to know only. "You sure about that, Phil?" Race prodded.

Phil ignored the question. "Delic's of no concern anymore, but his gang is. They are probably the ones that have Jessie."

Benton chimed in, "I seem to recall Delic was some sort of fringe scientist in Kosovo. He allegedly was experimenting with biological and chemical agents. His methods were highly unconventional and some would argue downright illegal and immoral."

Phil added for the benefit of the others, "During the war. He was an Albanian that sympathized with the Yugoslavians that invade Kosovo in the late 1990s. He turned against his own people for profit. He was also a sociopath." Suddenly he grimaced and placed his hand against the side of his head.

"Are you alright?" Race asked stepping forward.

Corbin gritted his teeth and leaned his head back against the large pillow, closing his eyes. "Headaches." He growled.

"I'll get a nurse." Hotchner said.

Phil waved his good hand to ward off Hotch, "No, go get Simpson." Hotchner nodded and left, a few moments later he returned with the other man.

Race suddenly felt on edge, he didn't like what he was witnessing. "What's going on?" He said in a low, even tone.

"I'm sorry, Race," Corbin said. He lowered his hand from his forehead, but Race could tell he seemed weaker. Race's eyes fell on the pain killer dispenser and watched as his wounded friend pressed the plunger, holding it down. He's hurting bad. Race thought, but it still didn't relieve Race's apprehension. Corbin took a few breaths then continued, "I'm pulling you from this investigation."

"What?" Race said, his voice rising to almost a shout.

"Calm down, Agent Bannon." Simpson demanded.

"Calm down? Are you kidding me?" Race protested. "You can't pull me. My daughter and ex have been kidnapped for Christ's sake!"

"That's why I'm removing you." Phil continued. "You're too close; too involved."

Race gritted his teeth so hard his jaw started to ache. He felt Benton place a hand on his arm and realized that he had balled his fists, his entire body tense.

"No, Phil," Race countered, "I need to be in this. I need to find my daughter."

Phil exhaled and Race saw Corbin and Hotchner exchange a quick glance. Was that a subtle nod between them? Race thought.

Simpson stood before Race and extended his hand, "Relinquish your weapon and credentials."

Race looked past the other man and directed his attention on Corbin, "This is a mistake."

"Now, Agent Bannon," Simpson said, "Don't make me have you forcibly removed as well."

"That won't be necessary," Benton interjected, "Do it, Race."

Race glared at I-1's second in command, but he relented and withdrew his creds and slapped them into the other man's hand.

"Your weapon as well."

Removing the firearm from the holster at the small of his back, Race did as instructed; he unloaded the weapon and handed it over. Simpson turned and looked at his superior.

"Log it." Corbin said his voice lowering. "That's all."

Simpson nodded, "Your mother and father are back outside with your kids."

Corbin nodded. "Thank you." With that Simpson left.

"Why, Phil?"

"All your access to I-1 databases has been suspended. That includes the Quests as well."

Race shook his head. He was being punished for something he didn't even do. "You act as if I'm the one that shot you!" Race blurted out, but immediately regretted it. Deep down he knew Corbin was only following protocol.

Corbin ignored the jab, leaning back he groaned from the pain his movement caused. "I'm tired." He didn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular.

"I'll escort them out," Hotchner patted his relative on the forearm, "and I'll send the family back in."

Corbin nodded and closed his eyes.

"Let's go." Hotchner said, extending his arm towards the door to the two men.

Minutes later they stood in the hallway of the hospital, reunited with Jonny and Hadji. Corbin's parents and his kids were back in the hospital room. Jonny noticed that Race looked pissed beyond words.

"What happened? Does he know where Jessie is?"

Benton shook his head, "No, but he gave us a little bit of a lead."

"Yeah, while at the same time stripping us of our ability to do anything with that lead." Race growled.

Hotchner shook his head, "He did what he had to do. Why don't you come with me to the BAU at FBI Headquarters?"

Race got the meaning and realized he was right in his summation of what happened in the hospital room. Corbin had to remove him from the case and strip him of his I-1 access, but that didn't mean he couldn't get help from outside of I-1.

"You sneaky, bastard." Race chuckled, shaking his head.

"What?" Jonny asked.

"Just when I'm ready to pummel that man for his fanatical devotion to regulation, I realize just what he's up to."

"We're going to find your daughter and your ex-wife." Hotchner stated. "And we need to do it before I-1 does. Let's go, my team is standing by to brief what they've found so far."

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Jessie's face burned with pain as she sat back in her prison cell recalling what had just happened. The man had taunted her, she thought he was just going to scare her with the knife, but he did more than that. Jessie's fear welled back up inside as she remember the encounter from earlier in the day. The man had said something about her mother, which led Jessie to believe her mother was still alive, but where Estella currently was, Jessie had no idea.

The man was a psychopath, of that Jessie had no doubt. His emotions seemed to change with the flip of a switch and Jessie, shuddering, as she thought of it, knew that he had enjoyed hurting her.

He had slid the long, cold knife across her jawline. The blade was cold, piercingly cold. He cut her just enough to draw a line of blood along her face. He had grinned the entire time. He had held the bloodied knife in front of her eyes so she could see. The small red droplets, pulled down by gravity, plopped onto her jeans. She thought he was done. She was wrong.

His arm shot out then, and he seized the top of her head. Jessie's entire body had tensed up, rigid from fear. She felt his fingers probing her skull, it made her sick, made her feel dirty, having this man touch her. She wanted to speak, to act, to do something, but fear kept her immobile and silent. She felt his hand move down the side of her head and he let her long red hair flow through his fingertips. He looked from his hand back to Jessie and smiled. "Such beauty," He had said. "A shame it is wasted on the daughter of such a person as your mother."

At the mention of her mother, a small ball of courage built up inside of her. "Where is my mother? If you've hurt her, I swear…"

The man laughed and his compatriots joined in. "You'll what, my dear?" With sudden violence the man's hand that held her locks balled into a fist, pulling at her roots. She involuntarily cried out in pain and tears formed in her eyes. "That's right. You'll do nothing." He then took the bloody blade and sawed a clump of her hair away.

Jessie's eyes squeezed shut, filled with tears, but her heart was filled with terror and rage. She willed herself to open her eyes and she saw the man standing before her again, in one hand he held the knife, in the other he held her clump of hair, stained an even darker red by her own blood.

For the first time, off to the man's side and a few steps behind Jessie saw another man. He was holding a video camera.

The memory of that terrifying ordeal both frightened Jessie, but also created a call to action in her mind. She touched her bandaged jaw, it hurt to touch, but she used that pain to muster her will.

Her captors had been kind enough to give her a lamp in her dank cell. Shaking the recent memory from her mind, Jessie focused. She needed to find something she could use as a weapon, anything. She examined every corner of her room, but she was cautious in her movements. She had to assume that she was being watched, so whatever she did, she had to try and disguise her actions. Her eyes fell upon the edge of her bed and a thin smile formed on her lips.

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Her captors had stopped for the night, but they remained in the van. Estella wasn't entirely sure where they were, but from the sounds that she heard when they had first pulled to a stop, she surmised it was an interstate rest stop.

"I need to use the restroom." Estella said when it was apparent her captors were not overly concerned with her condition.

The driver huffed. Estella had marked him as the leader of the little band of criminals. "You can wait."

"I can't." Estella pleaded.

"Donsik, take her to the wood line." The driver said.

"The woods?" Estella snorted. "We are at a rest stop, aren't we?" It was dark outside, but she was hoping to see a sign or a map or something that could help her tell where they were and possibly where they were going.

"The woods," The driver said, turning around. "or a bucket, your choice."

Estella acquiesced. "Fine."

"Donsik, remove her blindfold, keep your weapon hidden, but trained on her. Do not let her out of your sight."

"No privacy at all?" Estella asked as her blindfold was removed. She blinked numerous times, crust had formed around her eyes and as her focus came back to her, she saw that Donsik, the man in front of her, looked no older than perhaps twenty. How easily young men are corrupted. She thought to herself.

Donsik showed her his pistol, and then slipped it into his jacket pocket. "Do not try anything stupid."

Estella nodded as the young man opened the rear door of the van. Estella stepped out. Her legs were stiff, but she managed to remain steady. A quick glance confirmed they were at a rest stop but with the exception of a few semi-trucks the place was deserted. The air was hot, so she surmised they must be traveling south.

"That way." Donsik said and gave her a shove.

"Alright, no need to get frisky."

"Shut up and walk."

They reached the wood line and Estella saw that Donsik followed, but kept a couple steps between them. He didn't need to be right up on her in order to shoot her.

"No privacy at all?" Estella said, facing her captor.

Donsik was obviously uncomfortable, so he just nodded in the direction of some bushes. "Go over there. You have two minutes."

Estella smiled; it made her stomach lurch to smile at his man, but she was trying to act scared and innocent; it really wasn't much of an act. She needed to think. She didn't think she could escape now, but perhaps she could leave some sort of message for someone to find. She had no idea how she could do that though.

"Hurry up!" Donsik growled.

"I'm almost done." Estella replied. Maybe I could make a run for one of the semi-trucks, but she immediately dismissed the idea, the distance was too great; bullets did, after-all, travel relatively quickly. Cursing under her breath, Estella realized this wasn't the opportune time to try and escape, but she'd keep her eyes open and senses sharp.

Rejoining her handler she said "All done. Thanks. Any chance we can get something from the vending machines?" She still wanted to try and see where they were.

"No." Donsik replied, destroying that chance. "Back to the van."

Estella climbed back into the rear of the van, her one current hope being that they wouldn't blindfold her again.

"Get some sleep." The driver said to her. "You need your strength."

"Mind telling me where we are going?" Estella snapped back.

The other men glanced at the driver, again confirming Estella's belief that he was the leader. She wondered if the other two knew where they were going as well.

The driver seemed to contemplate whether or not to reveal anything, but then shrugged and said, "To see another old friend of yours."

"I really do not have this many old friends." Estella retorted.

The man wasn't sure how to take her sarcastic comment and just said, "Perhaps this time you can get the job done right."

Estella grimaced at the words. They were taking her somewhere to make her to kill again. She turned away from the driver in disgust and lied down on the cushioned bench in the rear of the van. Closing her eyes, she was hoping for a dreamless sleep, but her mind was racing with too many thoughts and idea. She had no idea where they were going, but they wanted to kill another person. She needed to escape and find help, find Jessie, and make these men pay for their crimes.

Estella closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. Her mind drifted back to how this all began.

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Kosovo, December, 1998

Almost two weeks had passed since the day the team had discovered the aftermath of the massacre in the small farming community in the hills of the countryside. Estella had learned that thirty-four people had perished that day and so far they had not found any survivors. Ever since that day, Estella had trouble sleeping and eating. Whenever she closed her eyes all she saw was the pile of corpses, of bodies of the innocent. The first few nights had been the worst. Being only one of two females on the camp, she had limited privacy and she never really felt comfortable confiding in the other team members. The entire I-1 team shared a large tent, with the small personal living areas cordoned off with blankets and camouflaged poncho liners. Her cot was hard and made a strange creaking sound whenever she tried to change positions in her sleep. The back of the tent was where the Corbin kept his living area and makeshift office. The two women were in the middle, with a makeshift door leading to the outside of the tent, this solved the problem of them having to pass through the men's areas or vice versa.

Agent Lewis was nice enough to her, but Estella felt like the younger woman was judging her. As a humanitarian specialist she had probably grown used to seeing human suffering during her previous missions and the men, well they were just being hard-nosed and stoic as usual.

Estella stood up and stretched, she was alone, having backed out of going to the chow tent for breakfast with Agents Lewis, Hill, and Clark. She had feigned a stomach ache.

Estella was never the type of person that could open up easily about her feelings, but she felt she had to talk to someone. If she didn't she knew she would snap like a rubber band.

Knocking on the metal post that separated her area from her team leader's space, she said, "Hey, Phil, you in there?"

He replied and she brushed the poncho liner aside and stepped into his area. It was larger than what the others had, but still almost as barren. He had a makeshift field desk upon which sat his laptop Toughbook and some files. Another small table held a coffee pot and some snacks and on the opposite side of the tent was a jerry-rigged sink and small mirror.

Estella was used to being around these men now for the last few months, but she still felt herself blush when she saw Corbin in the corner, naked from the waist up. She noticed he had changed from his normal camouflage pants to khakis, for some reason she found that odd. He didn't turn to look at her.

"You're shaving." She said as she sat down on the corner of his cot. It creaked in a similar fashion as hers.

"The itching was driving me crazy." He responded. He glanced over at her. "What's up? You already went to eat?"

Estella shook her head, "No. Not really hungry."

He returned to shaving. "You haven't been eating much lately. There's some coffee over in the corner." He jerked his head behind him and continued to shave.

Estella got up, poured two cups, and placed one on the table. She sat back down and waited till he was finished shaving.

A few minutes later he was patting his face dry with a towel and then tabbed his face with lotion. Estella liked the scent.

"Feel better?" She asked.

"Yes." He sat down and grabbed the cup of coffee. "How are you feeling?"

She averted her eyes, staring instead into her cup of joe. Finally she exhaled a deep breath and said, "I don't think I'm cut out for this line of work."

"What makes you say that?" Phil sipped the coffee.

"What we saw. It's just too much."

"That's not a normal thing you know."

"I know. It's just…I miss my daughter and husband. It's almost Christmas, Phil. I've never been away from them for this long before. And…" She stopped.

"And what?"

"I just don't think I'm of any use here."

"What makes you say that?"

"Cataloging artifacts, it just seems so trivial when you think of what's really going on out there." Her eyes drifted towards the wall of the tent.

"It's important work and if I didn't think so I wouldn't have requested you to accompany us here."

She reflected on his statement, she knew it was true, but it still didn't completely alleviate her feelings of apprehension and uselessness.

After they had returned from the farm, Estella had never asked about the man Corbin had mentioned and he never brought it up to her again, but she had to know more. "That day you had mentioned a man named Delic. Who is he?"

Phil held her gaze, finishing his coffee. He stood; grabbed a shirt and his sweater and finished getting dressed. "Estella, I don't know…"

Estella knew that tone, it was Corbin's official Government double-speak and she wasn't about to have any of it. "Look, I'm here just like the rest of the team. I'm in just as much danger as everyone else. I'm here living the suck, as you all say, just like you. If you wanted someone to just catalog pieces of jewelry you can have anyone do that. If I'm going to stay I need to know."

Corbin smiled. "Sometimes I wish you and Race had never met. He's rubbing off on you."

"Or me rubbing of on him." She said.

Corbin chuckled; grabbing his firearm he secured it into the holster on his belt. He picked up his cap and as he pulled it down over his head, he said, "Grab your coat ant let's go for a ride. There's someone I want you to meet."

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To Be Continued….