James Bates knew that smuggling didn't follow a fixed schedule, so it was obvious that getting his master's monkeys to the center of America wasn't going to be quick. Now, it was a case of intellectual knowledge finally imposing itself upon emotion and hope. As weeks went by and the monkeys hadn't shipped yet, he finally realized...as well as knew...that it wasn't going to be fast. As much as smugglers were, by their very definition, not lawful, they were strangely demanding in their own way. For one thing, they demanded proof that they were not transporting chemical agents, nuclear materials, or explosives. Upon learning this, Bates was originally surprised by how merciful such criminals could be. Then, he realized that they were protecting themselves; if some sort of massive attack were to be carried out in America, and one of them eventually uncovered as the one who transported the materials, there would be hell to pay.

Still, he wasn't as naive as he let on; he knew that there was a great deal of money changing hands due to the exchange of exotic animals. Under his request, Killigan told the smugglers that they were attempting to smuggle carefully trained monkeys into the United States, for sale to customers with more money than common sense. Once these shadowy businessmen were convinced that they weren't going to wind up crucified for horrific attacks, a certain shipping container was carefully loaded on a Scottish Island, shipped by train to London, then loaded onto a cargo airliner for an overnight flight to New York. There, it was shipped again, to Denver and then delivered to a warehouse in Middleton.

By this time, Bates had acquired additional supplies and had even rented a series of cabins on the mountain's slopes. It took him a couple of trips to shuttle the monkeys up to the cabins, but he was now ready. He had taken advantage of the delays in transporting the monkeys to purchase a number of smartphones with headsets and acquire a modest level of capability in using them.

"I don't know anything about the interior of this...lair," he admitted to the monkeys, once they were all assembled. "So I'm going to send you in to find things out, first. You can be sneaky, can't you lads?"

The monkeys jumped and shrieked, clearly showing a great deal of enthusiasm.

"Very well," Bates handed out the cameras. "I want you to sneak in and record the inside. We'll figure out what's in there and then we'll decide what to do."

It was a simple speech, but it had its effect on the primates. They didn't need complex plans or inspirational rhetoric...they needed to know that Bates was trying to find their master. With a solid, if simple, plan in place, they put their full energy into it.

"Lads, remember that your job is going to be to learn the layout of this place, to record it and map it out." He instructed them. "Even if you see Lord Fiske, don't break him out! We need a plan to get him safely back to England before we let that doctor know that we're even here."

The monkeys nodded to him, understanding what they were about to do.

"Alright, here's how we'll use this equipment I've gotten for you."

It actually took less time to teach the monkeys how to use the phones that it took to adjust the headsets to fit the small primates. Still, it was a couple of additional days' work before the first team was ready to infiltrate the lair. Here, Bates began to realize just how extensively Fiske had trained his minions...and how much they had maintained that level of capability. Despite the fact that he was observing the site with a high-powered spotter's scope, he could barely distinguish the movement as several small creatures slipped into the lair.

He quickly lost the signal when they went underground, and wound up sweating profusely until they re-emerged a little more than an hour later. Soon, he had the monkeys around him again, and was viewing the video footage they had produced. This started several days of reconnaissance and adjustments. Fortunately, Dr. Hall didn't organize her lair very well, so there were plenty of small gaps and obstructions for monkeys to hide in. The monkeys were careful and stealthy, observing the strange creatures that the twisted doctor had populated the lair with. The monkeys extended their search a little each trip, allowing Bates to review their video footage and get a solid grip on the facility's schedule. He returned to Middleton and managed to purchase some repeaters, which the monkeys hid inside of the lair, extending the human's ability to speak to the monkeys deeper into the facility. After three days of spying, one of the monkeys reached the main lab and left a phone behind to record Dr. Hall's activities.

Bates was no scientist and so had expected much of what Dr. Hall was doing to be far beyond his knowledge...but not only did he not understand what the woman was doing...he couldn't understand why she was doing it. The laboratory held numerous books that appeared to contain writing in ancient, Asian languages. Also, Dr. Hall seemed to spend most of her time in the laboratory working on stone...which seemed very odd for a geneticist. Still, Bates considered any information to be valuable, so he set up a schedule by which the monkeys would replace the hidden phone three times a day and carefully stored everything it recorded. It didn't make sense to Bates; a rogue geneticist should be studying flesh, not stone. Genetics was a relatively new science, not one to be advanced by studying the writings of ancient mystics. He struggled to understand Hall's reasoning for two days, when one of the monkeys managed to get into her personal quarters.

Most of her quarters were neat, tidy, and more comfortable than fashionable. Her bedroom, on the other had, sported a king-sized bed and a familiar statue. Those monkeys who were with Bates, observing the live feed on his screen, shrieked in joy when they saw the likeness of Montgomery Fiske in stone. Bates, on the other hand, had his attention riveted by the fact that the statue was draped with a house-robe. A certain feeling of both concern and intrigue came over the servant as the ordered the monkey to conceal the telephone in such a manner that they would have a live feed of the room, then leave the facility. He then set a schedule by which there would always be a monkey observing the two feeds that they had established in the lair.

"Lads, that looks like the statue that Dr. Hall had with her at Drakken's award ceremony," he told the monkeys. They all nodded in response.

"Is that what Lord Fiske was turned into, by that devil Yono chap?" He asked. All of the monkeys who had accompanied Fiske to Japan nodded.

"I have my suspicions about Dr. Hall," he told them. "But I won't put them to voice until I learn more. I'm very tired, so I'm going to bed. Hall keeps odd hours, but when she returns to her room, whichever of you are on watch will wake me, understood?"

The monkeys nodded again.

Bates was awake again, of his own violation, and one of the monkeys had replaced the two phones in the lair when Amy quit working in her lab and retired to her quarters. Bates waited, patiently, as he assumed that she fixed herself a meal before passing through the bedroom on the way to her bathroom. Some time later, she emerged in a bathrobe and pulled some clothing out of a drawer. Bates caught his breath as she approached Fiske.

"Oh, Monty, it's been a long day...well, more than a day. I'm sorry to have left you alone for so long, but it will mean that we can be together again!" He cheerful voice sounded a little tinny over the microphone as she pulled the robe off of the statue.

"That's something that I didn't think of," she confessed, while unfolding the pajamas she was holding. "I can take you into the lab, so you can see how hard I'm working!"

The pajamas had been carefully made, with snaps along the limbs. Amy was able to dress the statue, despite its lack of flexibility and that the kung-fu uniform that Fiske had been wearing when he was petrified had turned to stone along with him.

"Of course, you might get bored watching me work, I know that you weren't all that interested in my hobbies," Amy continued, once she was finished dressing him in what appeared to be silk sleepwear. "But it can't be any worse than being all alone in the bedroom."

"I am working hard," she assured him, now standing in front of his stone form. "But this isn't what I'm good at! I'm trying to study both mysticism and physics; trying to find magic that will bring you back to me, and trying to find the science that will convert silicates to hydrocarbons...but I've told you this a dozen times, haven't I?"

With a strength that belied her short stature, Amy lifted the statue and tucked it into the bed. She then turned off the lights. In the dim view afforded by the phone's low-light capability, Bates watched her silhouette remove her robe, slide into bed and cuddle close to him.

"It won't be too much longer," her voice barely registered over the speaker. "Be patient, I'm working as hard as I can and we'll be together again...I promise."

Motion ceased and soon the sound of snoring sounded from Bates' monitor. "Well lads, that cuts it," he told the monkeys around him. "That's what's left of Lord Fiske."

The monkeys responded with a chorus of excited chitters.

"The only question is, what do we do now?" Bates asked them. The monkeys all stared at him, perplexed.

"We could grab him and take him back to England, but is that the smart thing to do?" He asked them. They didn't answer, but cocked their heads, curiously.

"Dr. Hall might be deranged, but she's smarter than I am," Bates explained to them. "And she's had some time to research this problem. I think that we can all agree that we want Lord Fiske back, can't we?"

The monkeys shrieked with enthusiasm.

"So, our best bet to get him back is to let Dr. Hall do it."

The monkeys suddenly looked thoughtful.

"But it's not as easy as that," Bates mused. "If I stay here to long, Earl Snidely is going to get suspicious. Of course, I might be able to explain the situation to him and he could very well agree to this."

The monkeys continued to look contemplative.

"Of course, Kim Possible might get suspicious if I just stay here. She and her fellow have already said that they don't want Fiske back." The monkeys started to growl. "And the likes of Dr. Drakken and that Shego lass are scared of them. Even as tough as you lads are, I don't think we want a confrontation here. If Possible learns that Amy's working to bring Fiske back, there could be trouble."

The monkeys nodded, sharing perplexed looks with each other. Bates himself was stumped. He somehow sensed that he had been in the area too long already, suspicions from different directions were bound to be increasing. However, there wasn't much point to recovering Fiske if he couldn't...recover...him.

"I could head back to England and come back later," he mused. "But if Hall turns him back, what's to say that she'll stay here? I may have to try to track her down all over again." His eyes flew wide. "What if me being here so long has already made Possible suspicious enough to look into the matter? If Possible learns that Hall is trying to turn him back, she might grab him and hide him somewhere!"

The monkeys now looked concerned.

"We've got to get him out of there and back to England," Bates decided. "But what to do about changing him? Well, I guess I can work on that while I'm making arrangements to get him home. Getting him out of that lair is only the first step. I need a plan."

Now feeling time pressing upon him, Bates worked to plan things out. It would be easy enough to get Fiske out of the area; all he had to do was rent a cargo truck...and there were plenty in Middleton. The pickup would get Fiske from the mountain to the city and the cargo truck would take them anywhere in the nation...but what then? Getting Fiske out of America and, more importantly, into England was the problem. Fiske could easily be passed off as a statue and imported artwork wasn't something that the British Government, and by extension Earl Snidely, would be terribly suspicious about. However, he would need a receipt to prove to the customs agents that he wasn't moving stolen property and he needed a reason to alleviate Snidely's suspicions. He suddenly had a bit of inspiration, and sent an email to Duff Killigan.

He then considered what to do with Fiske, and how he could convince Dr. Hall to continue her work, but once Fiske was in his possession. It was getting decidedly late when he realized that once he and the lads seized Fiske, he would have the ultimate leverage over her. Smiling, he wrote a note, which would be delivered in an interesting way and went to bed.

Upon waking, he checked with the monkeys to see if anything interesting happened. The single monkey, who was on watch at the time, simply pointed to the screen and showed him that Amy was back at work in her laboratory, where Fiske was now set. The petrified nobleman was now dressed in the robe again. Shaking his head, Bates checked his email and discovered that Killigan had already come through. Smiling, he did some work with a navigation program and made more plans.

Making sure that the remaining monkeys understood when to rotate the phones recording the activities in the laboratory and the bedroom, he took the other half to Middleton. Once there, he purchased some supplies and put the monkeys to work preparing their shipping container for the trip back to England. He took a rough guess and decided that it would ship out in five days' time. After that, he rented a cargo truck, to be picked up on the same day that the shipping container was to be loaded, and when the pickup was to be returned.

"It's going to be some tight timing, lads," he told the monkeys, once he returned. "But it's the best plan I could come up with. I hope you're ready fore some fisticuffs, because things could turn violent."

The monkeys jumped up and down, showing their enthusiasm.

"But remember, no unnecessary damage and no casualties," he warned them. "After all is said and done, we don't want Dr. Hall overly angry. She's vital to these plans."

The monkeys seemed a little less enthusiastic, but Bates didn't doubt their loyalty.

The days passed slowly, then the hours, then the minutes. On the evening before he would have to return the pickup, ship out the container and collect the cargo truck, Bates exited the cabin for the last time. By now, he only had his pack with him, holding what few essentials he would need for the remainder of his mission. The monkeys piled into the back of the pickup, with three in the cab with him, for the drive around the mountain to the spot they had previously scouted. Leaving a single monkey on guard, Bates followed the rest along the trail to the lair's entrance. It was full dark by the time they reached it.

They paused while Bates examined the screen on his phone, monitoring those that were inside. "She's working in her lab," he reported to them. "Not as good as being asleep in bed, but we can still deal with her. Remember, most of you have been in here before, but I haven't, so I'll be letting you take the lead."

The monkeys nodded, tolerantly, at him.

"Speed is the key," he continued. "If the lot of you can have her subdued before she knows we're here, there won't be any prob..." He noted that the monkeys were looking bored. "We've gone over all of this already, haven't we?"

The monkeys all nodded, and a few rolled their eyes.

"Right then," he declared. "Nothing but to get on with it!"

That was all the monkeys needed. Moving quickly but quietly, they rushed the last few feet across the mountain slope and into the lair. Bates followed behind them, mindful of the fact that he was nowhere near as quiet as they were. Ahead of him, they threw open the door, which wasn't even locked, and rushed inside. A roar sounded when they encountered one of the bipedal creatures that served Dr. Hall. With stealth no longer an option, the monkeys shrieked as a group. Three of them remained in the passage to deal with the creature, while the remainder rushed deeper into the lair.

Bates paused as the three monkeys subdued the creature. He didn't know what to call it; it was large, hairy, powerful...but not particularly fierce or agile. It also didn't seem to have much skill when it came to fighting. One monkey met it head on, striking hard blows on its abdomen and face while avoiding powerful, but slow and clumsy, strikes. With the creature distracted, the other two monkeys slipped behind it and delivered powerful kicks to the back of its knee joints. The creature dropped to a kneeling posture and the two monkeys behind it each grabbed a foot and yanked. Its roar of outrage was cut short when it's face met the rough stone of the passage floor. The monkeys pulled rolls of duct tape out of their pouches and restrained it completely, before it could recover.

With the creature immobilized, one monkey stayed to keep an eye on it while Bates followed the other two deeper into the lair, where their fellows had already gone. Additional roars, and a woman's angry yells, sounded from up ahead. The monkeys were capable, motivated and well trained. By the time Bates and his two companions arrived at the lab, Dr. Hall and the other two creatures were also restrained.

"Well done, lads!" Bates congratulated his companions. "Now, as we discussed. There's no need for more cruelty than necessary! You two, fetch the poles! You three, help me with the doctor!"

With the monkeys' help, Bates carried the squirming Dr. Hall to her bedroom and lay her, as comfortably as they could, on the bed.

"Dr. Hall," he addressed her, as the monkeys returned to the laboratory. "You are probably very angry with me right now, however I am ready to offer you a deal by which you can continue your work, in more comfortable settings."

Amy glared at him over her gag.

"I have a letter, explaining it all," he continued, holding up an envelope. "I will leave this on your dresser. When you are free again, read it and use the information inside to contact me. I am Lord Fiske's faithful servant, and I am honor bound to return him to his estate. Should you wish to rejoin him there, you will be welcome to do so."

Dr. Hall's struggles didn't abate, and her glare didn't soften. Bates could only hope that she would eventually see reason as he left her and made his way back to the lab. By the time he got there, all three bipedal creatures were gathered there and the monkeys were using some poles to fabricate a carrying rig for Lord Fiske.

"This may not be dignified, m'lord," Fiske addressed the statue. "But it is necessary. If you are aware, please understand that we are returning you home." He then turned to the monkeys. "Are the quadrupeds secure?"

The monkeys nodded. Satisfied, Bates selected the smallest of the bipeds. Two of the monkeys freed the creature's legs while Bates and three more monkeys hoisted Fiske. Minutes later, they were all out of the lair and struggling down the slope to the pickup.

It was a tight fit, but the creature, Fiske, and most of the monkeys were able to fit into the back while Bates and thee more monkeys rode in the cab. Bates prayed to any power that would hear that they wouldn't be observed. He knew that this road had very little traffic, especially at night, but light traffic didn't mean no traffic; and they were hardly an unremarkable group at the moment. The light of a bonfire appeared to the side of the road, but Bates had no choice but to forge on and hope that nobody was observing. Fortunately, he saw nobody and assumed that there was a party taking place off of the road that was completely engrossing to whomever was attending.

After nearly two hours of driving on the winding, mountain road, he had reached his location he had previously selected. He pulled the vehicle to the side of the road and motioned for the monkeys to pull Dr. Hall's creature out of the vehicle.

"Now see here," he addressed the creature in as stern a tone as he could muster, aware that the fact that the thing stood at least a half-meter taller than him took away a great deal of his intimidation. "I'm about to release you. If you choose to attack me, the lads here will simply truss you up again. If you leave, you can be back at Dr. Hall's lair shortly before dawn. Do you understand me?"

The thing wasn't as intelligent as the monkeys, but it was able to provide a short nod. Bates motioned for the monkeys to cut the tape binding its arms. Once free, if favored Bates with an angry glare, but turned and rushed off back up the mountain at an impressive pace. Bates sighed in relief.

"That's one step completed," he told the monkeys. "Let's hope our luck holds."

The monkeys chittered in an affirmative tone while everyone clambered back aboard the vehicle. With the creature gone, the monkeys were able to pull a tarp over the bed, shielding themselves and Fiske from casual observation. Now that a modicum of discretion was in place, Bates guided the vehicle into Middleton.

The first stop was an alleyway near the dealership that rented the pickup. After a quick check to make sure that there was nobody else nearby, Bates and the monkeys unloaded Fiske from the pickup, then loaded him into the larger vehicle and strapped him in securely. With a last apology to his master's stone form, Bates closed and locked the cargo compartment, then urged the monkeys back under the tarp in the pickup's bed. The next stop was a warehouse.

Once at the warehouse, the group again checked to make sure that they were alone. With their privacy confirmed, the monkeys loaded into their shipping container.

"Remember lads, don't give that Killigan fellow any problems," Bates gave them some final instructions. "If all goes according to plan, you'll arrive before I do. No funny business, but keep your eyes open for Dr. Hall. Who knows what she's capable of? When I get back, we'll plan our next moves."

The monkeys all bowed to him, so Bates returned the gesture, checked the itinerary one last time, then locked the container. He then returned to the pickup and waited until the container was loaded onto a train, shortly before dawn. With the monkeys now beyond his reach, he drove back to the dealership.

He had paid a little extra for an "as-is" return policy, so he didn't have to wash or refuel the vehicle before returning it. Dropping off the keys, he spotted one of the coffee shops that seemed to occupy every corner of every American city. Deciding that his need for caffeine superseded his normal preferences, he got a large cup of very strong coffee and returned to the cargo truck. He had a long drive before he could sleep again. Activating the GPS, he got onto Interstate 25 and headed south.

It was afternoon before he reached Albuquerque, and followed the GPS to a stone-carver. By the time he arrived and pulled around to the back, the business was deserted except for the owner, a burly man with heavily calloused hands.

"Your name?" He asked, by way of greeting.

"Jim," Bates answered. "Yours?"

"Bill." Now that the names were exchanged, he offered his hand for a quick shake. "Let's get you backed in."

He opened a bay door and guided Bates as he backed the truck into the spacious area inside. Once he closed the door, blocking prying eyes from their business, they opened the truck and Bill produced a forklift, modified to handle odd-shaped loads. Soon, Fiske was set on the workroom floor and Bill offered Bates a slight smile.

"I do very detailed work, don't I?"

"A master craftsman," Bates complimented him. "I'm glad that I heard of you for this piece of artwork."

"Well, let's get this settled," Bill led him into the office area, where Bates was able to confirm the transfer of funds from the Fiske Estate to the local business.

Satisfied, Bill handed Bates the receipt and led the way back to the shop. He took several photographs of Fiske, and gave Bates copies before pulling some planks and plywood from several bins.

"For as much as you just paid me, the least I can do is pack this up properly," the craftsman told him. Bates wholeheartedly agreed and assisted the man in constructing a quick, wooden frame around Fiske, which was then filled with packing foam. Bill then reloaded the statue back into the truck and the two men secured it. The task complete, Bill shook hands with Bates again.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Jim," he said, then opened the door for Bates to drive out. The two men didn't exchange any further words.

Beyond exhaustion, Bates managed to follow the GPS to the shipping company he had previously engaged. There, a forklift unloaded the crate and another man, carrying a tablet, approached Bates.

"Your name?" He asked, all business.

"James Bates, representing the Fiske Estate."

"We have you on the record as shipping one piece of stone artwork, produced by a local sculpture, to the United Kingdom," he noted something on the display. "Do you have a receipt and pictures of the artwork?"

"Right here," Bates provided copies of the requested items.

"Very well, Mr. Bates," the man nodded. "You understand that British Customs will most likely open this crate and inspect the statue?"

"Of course," Bates assured him.

"This is your last chance to not send it, in case it contains something that you shouldn't be shipping."

"Understood," Bates nodded. "I have nothing to hide."

"Very well, here is your receipt that I've accepted the statue. It should arrive at Lord Fiske's Estate in a little over a week."

"Thank you, sir." Bates wasn't happy about leaving Fiske, but he didn't see another way to assure his master's arrival. He shook hands with the man, accepted the paperwork provided, and climbed back into the truck.

He was beyond exhausted by the time he turned in the rental truck and caught a cab to the airport. His weariness was perhaps a blessing for the long line to be checked through security for an international flight; his mind was incapable of worrying about the myriad things that could go wrong. Despite the long wait and his lack of energy, he was finally on an airliner bound for New York, from where he would catch a flight to London. Despite the fact that it would do no good to worry now, he still worried. It was a very uneasy sleep that he slipped into, and dark dreams that he experienced, all the way home.

"Mr. Killigan, th-this is a most unexpected honor," Bates stammered at the Scotsman, who had just arrived at the Fiske Mansion.

"Well, ye shewd 'ave been expectin it," Duff countered. "Aye helped ye set up th' schedules, so I knew when yer shipment would get here. Yer statue is supposed to be delivered any minute now, isn't it?"

"Y-yes," Bates nodded.

"And ye promised t' let me know what became o' ole Monty," Killigan pointed out. "This is jest me collectin' me pay. So, are ye going to jest stand there or are ye going to let me come in out o' the rain?"

For a moment, Bates considered what to do.

"I got yer wee monkeys back to the estate, didn't I?" Duff pressed. "Haven't I been helpful to ye?"

"Well...yes," Bates stepped back and motioned the big man to come in. "I just..."

"Ye wanted to make sure everything worked out right," Killigan finished for him. "Don't ye worry lad, I won't talk if something went wrong."

"Of course," Bates admitted. "I'll have some tea ready in a minute. Please, make yourself comfortable. Forgive me if I was less than hospitable, but this is the first time I've smuggled a petrified nobleman onto his own estate."

"Aye, that's not an activity that yer likely to grow used to doin'" Duff agreed, taking a seat and looking with approval at a spot along the wall of the great hall that Bates had marked off with a velvet rope. When Bates returned to the hall, he was accompanied by the monkeys, bearing tea and a light meal.

"We might as well be comfortable while waiting," Bates declared.

The monkeys set the table and soon all primates were enjoying the meal while Duff told them stories from his criminal days.

"Bet those days are over, at least fer the most part," he concluded. "Doin' what I used tew just doesn't feel th' same after that invasion we had. I think it's time tew manage me estate...and maybe help uncover the occasional mystery."

Any response Bates, or the monkeys, could have offered was interrupted by the sound of a vehicle horn outside.

"All right lads, clear out and take the settings with you!" Bates ordered. The monkeys were efficient, and by the time Bates had made his way from the table to the main entrance, it looked like only the two men had been waiting the delivery.

"I hope I understood the instructions correctly," one of the deliveryman informed Bates, when the servant opened the door. "I was told to deliver this crate to the main entrance. When dealing with nobility, I usually deliver to a servants entrance."

"You're quite correct," Bates assured him. "This delivery should come through here. It's...appropriate."

Thus assured, the deliveryman motioned for his partner to back a truck towards the aforementioned door and extended a ramp from the truck to the very portal. Bates caught his breath when the truck's door rolled up and revealed a familiar crate.

"Eh, no need t' worry with those little wheelies," Duff protested, when the men sought to load the crate onto some hand trolleys. "Aye've got it!"

Before anyone could protest, the big man seized the crate in a bear-hug, hoisted it onto a shoulder, and carried it to the spot that Bates had set aside.

"Very well, sir," the lead deliveryman addressed Bates, while still staring in disbelief at Duff. "Shall we open it, to check for damage?"

"That won't be necessary," Bates assured him. "I'll waive the right to inspect. I wish to open the statue in a more...private...setting."

"Understood sir," the man answered, offering Bates the delivery receipts to sign.

"Ordinarily, I would ask the two of you to enjoy a cup of tea," Bates told him, returning the papers, along with a few pounds. "However, I'm afraid that circumstances don't allow me to display the manners one expects followed in this house. On the other hand, if you and your assistant would stop by the local pub for a pint or two, you will hopefully remember this property more fondly."

"We certainly will, sir," the man assured Bates, with a wide smile. "And a good day to you!"

"Enough o' the pleasantries," Duff grumbled, once Bates had seen the men back to their truck. "Let's get Monty out o' the box!"

Bates agreed and called for the monkeys, who rushed back into the great hall with tools in hand. Working carefully, to Duff's annoyance, Bates and the monkeys disassembled the crate, peeled back the foam padding, and revealed Montgomery Fiske.

"Sew, that's what's become of Monty," Duff commented, as Bates carefully inspected the stone form for any cracks or other damage. "He doesn't look like he enjoyed his fate, does he?"

"No," Bates was forced to agree. "He looks terrified."

"Aye," Duff agreed. "Maybe a lesson, if you will. Some dreams shewdn't be chased tew far. Can ye join me in a toast, laddie?"

Looking up from ins inspection, Bates watched Killigan pull a couple of glasses, as well as a very dusty bottle, from his pouch and set them on the table. With a grace that belied his size, strength and reputation, he poured a couple of fingers worth of what appeared to be good scotch in each glass.

"I believe I will," Bates nodded, and took one of the glasses.

"Tew Monty," Duff raised his glass in a salute towards the petrified nobleman. "Yer finally home, e'en if it isn't in th' manner yew'd have liked. May ye stand guard o'er this house for many a year t' come, and be a warnin' to any o' yer kin that be tempted t' follow the same path."

"Here, here!" Bates copied the salute, and the two men drank. It was definitely good scotch.

"Well, aye guess aye'll be goin'," Duff declared.

"At this time of the afternoon?" Bates asked. "I can easily put you up for the night."

"Nae," he shrugged. "Me dirigible has autopilot and even though Monty's made o' stone now, I'll give him his first night back home with no outsiders. It's been a fun mystery t' help solve, but let me know if something new happens."

"I certainly will."

With a last, polite, nod to Lord Fiske, Killigan allowed Bates to show him to the door. After seeing the dirigible float into the air and head north, Bates returned to the great hall.

"Well, this duty is now done," he told the statue. "I've returned you to your home, m'lord. I sincerely apologize for the methods I had to use, but I could not assure that you would get here safely any other way. I do not know if...if you're in there, if you'll pardon the expression, but I can only hope that you can appreciate the necessity...even though it seems so wrong that I traveled in a climate controlled cabin while you were packed into a crate."

"I'll maintain your properties," Bates continued. "The Fiske name will not be associated with a derelict ruin. However, I want you to understand that I have not given up recovering you; but I simply do not have expertise in this field, and it isn't the sort of thing that one can hire a reputable craftsman to do. I may take some actions that you may find distasteful, but again, I can only hope that the end will justify the means and you will appreciate that I must be obedient to necessity, even more than I was ever obedient to you."

He thought that he should make some powerful gesture, say some profound phrase that would sum up his complex emotions, but came up with nothing. Instead, he simply offered his master a slight bow before leaving the great hall and attending to the myriad tasks that he had taken upon himself.

Later that night, he received a call.

From Dr. Amy Hall.

Epilogue.

"...so when I saw the work that this stone-carver could do, I chose to have him create a statue of Lord Fiske," Bates explained. "Since I have never been able to determine M'lord Fiske's actual fate, but I know that it wasn't a pleasant one, I chose to have him shown in a position of terror, as a warning for his heir to not follow that same path."

"Very good," Earl Snidely murmured, as he took yet another walk around the petrified nobleman. "An excellent cover story. Now, do be a good chap and tell me the real tale."

"This is Lord Fiske," Bates answered. "He was turned to stone by a supernatural creature, when his quest for power failed. The same doctor who had altered him developed an infatuation with him, and managed to dig him up from his resting place. I do not know what sort of deal she had to strike with that supernatural creature...if any. I do know that me and Lord Fiske's monkeys had to seize him by force and smuggle him here."

"Be a good man and make sure that the estate's legal council stipulates that the statue must remain with the property," Snidely instructed him. "Should it be damaged beyond repair, state that it must be buried in the estate's cemetery."

"The Fiske family has a series of catacombs beneath the mansion," Bates informed him.

"So make sure that it is interred in one of the tombs," Snidely nodded, showing that he took no offense at being corrected. "If you have any difficulties, let me know."

"I will, m'lord."

"You've done well," Snidely noted, approval evident in his tone. "However, have you given any thought to trying to...return him?"

"Who would I approach?" Bates asked. "The being that did this to him has departed, and I suspect that the payment it would demand for returning him would be much higher than anyone can really afford." He allowed a slight smile to cross his face. "Even an Englishman's loyalty only goes so far."

"Quite right," Snidely returned the smile.

"If I were to ask scientists or religious figures, I'm sure I would be deemed insane," Bates continued. "I have not grown so weary of these duties that I wish to exchange them for institutionalization."

"Good man," Snidely's smile grew wider. "I'm exposed to strange things in the course of my duties, so if I find something that suggests that he can be returned, I will inform you. In the meantime, aren't you nervous that this doctor who originally obtained him will come looking for him?"

"The monkeys maintain a watch over the property," Bates assured him. "Although I may have to acquire some more and have them train the newcomers. Monkeys only live for so long. No, m'lord, I feel quite secure here."

"Very well, I'll leave you to it." Snidely picked up his coat and hat. "Do keep me up to date, and let me know should there be alterations to the situation here."

"Of course, m'lord."

Bates saw the man to the door and even held an umbrella for him as he climbed into his car. He watched the man drive off. Once he was sure that the Earl was away from the estate, he returned inside, poured two cups of tea and made his way to the dungeons below. Changes had been made in the weeks between the recovery of the statue and the Earl's visit. The area that used to be reserved for the storage of robust, partially valuable artifacts was now brightly lit and filled with modern, laboratory equipment.

"The Earl is safely away," he told the short, heavyset woman who was staring intently at a screen.

"I've only made partial progress," Amy admitted, gratefully accepting her cup. "I'm getting better at converting silicates to hydrocarbons, but I'm still having trouble dispersing the excess energy that this produces. I'm sure I'll deal with this eventually, but I'm still worried about what will happen if I succeed."

"Oh?" Bates was curious.

"Even if I get him back, if I can change him to flesh and blood, will it be Monty in there? Science doesn't deal with the soul, which is why I need those texts I had you purchase."

"They were expensive," Bates admitted. "But if they help recover him...well...what's the purpose of an estate, if not to provide for the comfort and well-being of the master?"

"It could go faster," she reminded him.

"No!" He said, quite firmly. "You will not experiment on the lads." They had had this argument several times, so Amy let it go.

"I'm still a little angry with you," she pouted. "But I have to admit that I'm making good progress here. I'm much farther along with the support you've provided. Why couldn't you have just offered to help me back in Colorado?"

"I didn't know that you would be willing to help, at least in a manner acceptable to me." Bates admitted. "And I wanted him here, at home. If he's returned, he will be a nobleman and not your plaything."

"I guess I understand," she turned her attention back to the screen. "At least I'm safe enough here, and don't have to worry about anyone else causing problems."

The four-tone signal woke Kim from a very comfortable doze. The warm body she had been resting against shifted as well, disturbed by the implications of a call.

"Go, Wade," she spoke into her wrist-mounted Kimmunicator.

"I've just detected a very odd purchase made by the Fiske Estate," the younger man told his older friends. "And this prompted me to trace some other suspicious purchases to the same destination."

"Okay, details," Kim demanded.

"I've been keeping an eye on the estate ever since Bates grabbed Fiske from Amy," Wade explained.

"Wait, we don't know that for sure," Ron protested, sitting up next to Kim on the couch they were snuggling on just moments before.

"Check this out," Wade countered, and a newspaper article was projected into the air above Kim's wrist.

"That's an article form the Tri-City Snooper!" Kim protested. "Since when do you monitor tabloids?"

"Just read the article," Wade told her.

"Party-goer leaves the bonfire and observes a pickup running down a mountain road," Kim read. "It was driven by a British gentleman and carried several monkeys, a restrained Sasquatch, and a stone statue."

"The chief editor blames President Trump for this outrage," Ron continued. "While the staff psychic predicts that this heralds the reversal of human evolution, an NRA representative cites this as evidence that the Second Amendment is vital for the safety of law-abiding folk, and the staff custodian claims this as evidence that local moonshiners are getting better at their craft."

"This sighting occurred the day before Bates flew back to England," Wade told the two. "I dug a little deeper and found records that the Fiske Estate paid for a custom-crafted statue, and had it shipped to Monty's mansion, the day that Bates' flight left Albuquerque. The statue was purchased from a stone-carver in Albuquerque."

"So you think he took steps to smuggle Fiske back to his mansion," Kim shrugged. "We told him to go ahead and do that."

"Yes, but he just purchased several books of magic," Wade told her. "Among other things, they supposedly have instructions on how to return someone who's dead...back to life."

"And you think that this could actually work?" Kim asked.

"Up until you described what happened to Fiske, no," Wade admitted. "So, why do you think that Bates would order mystic books and have them delivered to the Fiske Mansion, shortly after recovering Fiske?"

"Uh...the only thing I can think of is something I'd rather not think about," Ron admitted.

"Here's the kicker," Wade told him. "This purchase made me check some other shady purchases inside the United Kingdom. A great deal of genetic laboratory equipment has been purchased and shipped to locations within fifty kilometers of Fiske's Estate before vanishing."

"Okay, I think I'm about to hear some sort of conclusion," Kim quipped.

"I sent a drone up to Mount Middleton," Wade's expression and voice were very serious. "Amy's lair has been abandoned."

"So you think that she's at Monty's Mansion, working with Bates to restore Fiske?" Kim asked him.

"It's the only conclusion I can come up with."

"Okay," Kim sighed. "Scare us up a ride. I think it's about time for us to have a word with Bates."

-finis-

A/N: Thanks for reading. As always, huge thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for beta reading.