Kitt turned off the lights as they approached Gull Cottage, hoping that none of the attackers would notice his arrival. He pulled up in front. Michael jumped out into the rain and ran for the front porch. Once there, he shook off as much of the rain as he could.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain Gregg, sir."

Captain Gregg was surprised to see him so quickly. Given what he knew about Michael's military and police background, he wasn't surprised to be asked permission nor to hear the word sir used as it was intended: a respectful address to a superior officer. And so he opened the door, allowing Michael to enter. He shut the door as soon as Michael was in and appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Mrs. Muir?"

"In the car. I told Kitt not to let her out until it's safe. This fight is no place for a lady like her."

Captain Gregg nodded approvingly. "Agreed."

"What's the situation, sir?"

"There was an initial foray. But I drove off the scouting party. They are now regrouping for a second attempt."

Michael thought for a moment. "May I make a suggestion, sir?" Captain Gregg nodded and waved for him to continue. "Let the two leaders into the house. Subdue them and then hand them over to the authorities. The lackeys will flee and can be tracked down later. But without direction, they become irrelevant."

Now it was Captain Gregg's turn to think. "I believe that plan would work. I have already identified the ringleaders."

"Where would you like me, sir? I had Mrs. M talk me through the floorplan of Gull Cottage and the immediate vicinity. So I have a pretty good idea of the layout. The enemy likely can only get in here on the ground floor."

"Station yourself here in the main hall. I will inform you when those blasted brigands are aboard."

Captain Gregg disappeared. Michael took up his position at the base of the stairs. It was dark, with occasional flashes of lightning. Michael remained alert for the Captain's signal.

Eventually, a disembodied voice said, "Living room."

Michael moved quickly and quietly to the living room. He saw a shape near the window, likely broken but the storm raging outside covered up the noise of breaking glass. He rushed in swinging. The other man swung back. They struggled, but Michael prevailed. His opponent ended up on the floor unconscious.

Michael was breathing heavily. But he still heard a noise behind him. He turned and swung. Only for his fist to go right through Captain Gregg, who glared at him.

"Sorry, sir. I thought both men were inside."

"Just the one so far. I brought some rope. Can you tie knots?"

"Well, sir, I can certainly tie someone up. Not sure I'm using what you would call a proper knot, though."

"Do your best."

Michael tied up the unconscious man, who turned out to be Adam Stanley.

"Those knots will do . . . for now." Captain Gregg was clearly not impressed. Michael shrugged.

"Michael," said Kitt via the commlink. "Two men are approaching the car. One has a crowbar."

Michael chuckled. Captain Gregg was concerned.

"Mrs. Muir –"

"Is perfectly safe, I assure you. My MBS –"

"What the devil is an MBS?"

Michael explained. "Coating all over the car that makes it bulletproof. Even the windows. You really should go outside and watch. The expression on that thug's face when his crowbar bounces off Kitt will be priceless."

Captain Gregg disappeared. Michael returned to his station at the base of the stairs. He heard noises, all outside. But the storm was lessening. So clearly Captain Gregg was feeling calmer about the safety of Gull Cottage. And of Mrs. M.

Just as before, a disembodied voice gave him a location. "Kitchen, this time."

This time, Michael arrived at the kitchen before the intruder. He spotted a rolling pin on the counter nearby and grinned. He had always wanted to give that a try. He grabbed the rolling pin and waited. Before too much longer, he heard glass breaking and spotted someone climbing in through a window.

"Old place like this probably has a gas stove. It'll go up in no time," muttered Kenneth Swanson.

"I told you to leave Mrs. Muir alone," said Michael mildly.

"What –?"

Michael whacked him from behind with the rolling pin and he dropped. A length of rope floated over to him. Michael tied Swanson up.

Captain Gregg's voice said, "The rest are fleeing, the cowards."

Michael raised his commlink. "Kitt, give me a head count."

"Three men just ran past me. I believe they are heading for a car further up the road."

"Can you block them?"

"Easily."

Captain Gregg appeared next to Michael. "And Mrs. Muir?"

"I will keep her safe, Captain Gregg."

Michael thumbed off the commlink. "Captain Gregg, sir. About April's comments earlier . . ."

"She was rude and insulting to Mrs. Muir."

"Yeah, well, she's really –"

"A nice person," Captain Gregg sneered.

Michael leaned against the wall, rubbing his nose. "Recently, she and Devon were kidnapped. At gunpoint. From the Foundation headquarters. Their kidnapper locked them up and then rigged the building to explode. He offered to let April live by, um, going with him."

"He asked her to trade her virtue for her life?" Captain Gregg's 19th century sensibilities were offended.

Michael nodded. "She refused, of course. But, well, she's been on edge ever since. Short fuse and all that. I know she feels bad about what she said to Mrs. Muir. And not because you are real. When she apologizes, well, I'd appreciate it if you'd see your way clear to accept that apology."

Captain Gregg considered what Michael had said, and then grudgingly said, "It will depend on the apology."

The commlink came on. "Michael, I have trapped the enemy's car between the cliff and me. Those thugs cannot get out until I permit it."

"Well done . . . Kitt," said Captain Gregg.

The door opened and Carolyn came in. She glared at both the Captain and Michael.

"Am I going to be allowed to help at all?"

"You can call the police, Mrs. M."

"That infernal machine already did that."

"Really, Mrs. Muir?" asked Captain Gregg. "After all that Kitt has done?"

Carolyn turned her glare entirely at him.

"How long till the police get here?" Michael asked.

"Twenty minutes. Maybe less, now that the storm is lifting."

"Then you have ten minutes to come up with a story to explain what happened here. And then five minutes to coach me."

Michael swayed a bit but managed to stay upright, though he was definitely using the wall for support.

"You, sir, should sit."

"I do that, and I'll be out like a light before the police get here, Captain."

In a no-nonsense tone, like she was talking to one of her children, Carolyn said, "You, young man, are going to bed as soon as the police are done."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a wistful smile.

"Now . . . here's what we tell the police. And you put in your report."