"Dreams Of The Past"

A Knight Rider Story

By TunnelsOfTheSouth

※※※※※

Knight Rider and all its canon characters are the eternal property of Glen A. Larson and NBC Television Studios.

I have enjoyed myself hugely with this work.

I make no monies from any of my TV series fanfics, only the joy and delight of creation.

"You are my best friend as well as my lover, and I do not know which side of you I enjoy the most. I treasure each side, just as I have treasured our life together…"

Nicholas Sparks

Chapter One

Is This Heaven?

An isolated government data centre was slowly illuminated by the early morning light. It was a large complex of cement and steel buildings which sat back from a wide, sweeping roadway. Charged electrical fences, with their security locks, cross-checks, and warning signs in bright red paint, protected it from any unwanted intruders. Or so it was assumed.

To the side of the electronically controlled entrance gate stood a guard shack. The night man checked his watch as he walked across in front of the closed gates. He sighed and grimaced. His replacement was late again.

"I've had enough of that slacker. He never shows up on time." He stepped into the shack to pick up the telephone and message through his complaint.

He was keen to go home to sleep. But he was forestalled when a large, white van, with a driver and a passenger inside, pulled to a stop in front of the gates.

"Someone's keen to get to work." The guard put down the telephone and stepped out of his shack.

He walked to the passenger's side of the van. The lab-coated man inside rolled down his window. He had a full beard and wore thick, steel-rimmed glasses. He smiled and appeared unconcerned that he was being stopped and checked.

"Good morning, Doctor Hanson. You're here early." The guard nodded his recognition. "Sorry, but I've still got to check your ID card. Rules are rules."

"Of course…" the doctor replied in a clipped, even tone as he handed over his card like he had all the time in the world. "You can never be too careful. There are a lot of bad men around."

"Yeah, that's right. Thanks, Doc," the guard replied as he studied the card.

Occupied with his inspection, he didn't see his assailant leave the rear of the van until it was too late. In a blur, the man slipped up behind him and knocked him out with the butt of his handgun. He caught the guard as he fell and dragged his recumbent body out of sight behind the guard shack.

He dumped the body there and then reached into the shack to activate the gates. He raced back to the rear of the van and climbed back in as the gates started to open.

The van barrelled through the open gates and took the turns in the driveway with a screech of tyres. It finally came to a halt outside a sign that indicated the North Ramp.

The three men jumped out of the van. The guard's assailant now carried a high-powered rifle in his hands as they ran up the ramp and climbed the concrete steps toward the buildings. The gunman positioned himself beside an entrance door and made ready to fire.

The van driver stopped and opened the highly polished, steel suitcase he was carrying. Dr Hanson wasted no time in selecting the device he needed from the variety secured inside the case.

He turned to place the small charge of plastique explosives over the locking mechanism of the door. Stepping back, he pulled out the antenna on a hand-held device. He pointed it back at the door as all three men retreated further.

"Now, let's move," he growled to his henchmen as he checked his wristwatch. "Stay on schedule. We have a safe ten minutes before we are discovered. The daytime gate guard is always late. We made doubly sure of that with that woman we sent to him last night."

He looked back to the door and activated the charge. The explosion destroyed the locking mechanism with a sharp blast.

Hanson ran forward and forced the door open. Billows of smoke momentarily blinded all three men as they pushed their way inside the building.

※※※※※

FLAG's mobile HQ barrelled down the highway. Suddenly an alarm began to sound. The alert brought Devon hurrying to answer the strident summons. He frowned at the monitor as he punched in his access code.

The black screen lit up in green letters that spelt out EMERGENCY. It began to flash and then the next message came through. BREAK IN AT GOVERNMENT DATA CENTRE.

Devon immediately turned away from the message and picked up the portable telephone from a nearby desk. He yanked out the aerial and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Michael!" he barked. "I've just received an alarm from the Government Data Centre. There's a break-in."

Beyond the headquarters, driving Kitt down a lonely road, Michael replied, "I'm punching in." He thumbed a series of controls above his head.

The address and an alert code quickly appeared on Kitt's monitor screen. Then it warned the intruders were still on the premises and they were armed. "Okay, I'm on my way. But what about local police response?"

"Nothing immediate," Devon replied quickly. "It would take local authorities over twelve minutes to show up. Whatever is happening there will be over by then. I'd say this is a professional job."

"All right. Let's get there, Buddy," Michael instructed Kitt. "Plot me the most direct course."

"You got it, Michael," Kitt replied.

Michael nodded. "Super pursuit mode," he commanded.

"Yes, Michael." Kitt immediately converted to the required mode and the vehicle flashed ahead down the roadway.

※※※※※

Inside the data centre, the three intruders made their way down a deserted corridor. They paused at a corner to scope out their route. All seemed quiet. They continued carefully.

At that same moment, an armed security guard opened a door up ahead and stepped out into their path. He barely had time to reach for the holstered weapon on his hip when the third attacker opened fire with his semi-automatic weapon and cut him down. The guard fell back the way he'd come, and his bullet-ridden body lay still in a spreading pool of blood.

The fake Dr Hanson stared at the gunman. "I thought I said no one was to be killed, Mr Stacker. This was to be a clean job. In and out. Now we will have extra attention we didn't need." He sounded none too pleased.

The gunman shrugged his unconcern. "Sorry, Mr Durant. But he drew first and got in our way. You said we only had ten minutes to get in and out."

"Yes, I did say that." Durant nodded sharply. "But I didn't give you permission to use my real name in public," he muttered. "Don't forget yourself and do it again. I go to great lengths to keep my real name and identity secret. Now, come on. Let's go…"

The three of them continued on their way. They were running out of time and they still needed to find the heart of the operation.

"Here we are…" Durant finally pointed to a sign above a door. The three slipped inside the room. "Now it's your turn, Mr Martoni. I want to see exactly what I'm paying you for."

"My pleasure…" The man holding the shiny briefcase nodded as he placed his case on a nearby table and opened it.

The data centre was huge. Row after row of communication panels continued to do their silent duty. Durant walked to a panel of lights beside the door and punched in a code then held down a button. One of the nearby panels immediately went dark. Durant walked up to it and opened the front door, exposing the inner workings.

"Come to Papa…" Martoni grinned as he turned from his case carrying a large control chip in his hands.

He pulled out an electronic chip from the inside of the machine and replaced it with his own. Then he connected a bugging device to the front section of the same panel. It was done in a matter of moments.

"Good work…" Behind him, Durant watched the operation closely.

He'd removed his spectacles to get a better view. He tucked them into the pocket of his lab coat and smiled with satisfaction that the panel didn't look like it had been tampered with. He closed the door on the machine. He forgot about his glasses.

"Come on, gentlemen. It's time we weren't here." He walked to the panel beside the door and reset the device. The tampered machine returned to life as if it had never been interfered with.

※※※※※

Kitt soared through the open gate and sped toward the data centre. He screeched to a halt in front of the van and converted to NORMAL mode.

"All right! Keep your scanners peeled and button up," Michael commanded as he vaulted from the car. "I'll try and keep them inside 'til backup appears!"

"Right, Michael," Kitt replied as he locked everything down. "Please be careful. I do not like this. We are too exposed."

"I'll do my best, Buddy," Michael reassured him as he ran for the steps.

Inside the building, the three men hurried toward their escape. Walking ahead, Stacker's weapon was positioned to fire while Martoni brought up the rear and held his briefcase close to his chest. Durant checked the time left on his wristwatch as he walked between them.

Michael moved carefully across the concrete walkway toward the door that had been blown open. He was about to enter when Stacker stepped out with his rifle across his body. Michael immediately began to grapple with him for control of the lethal weapon. A single shot went skyward.

Behind the struggling men, Durant ran out, trying to dodge past and escape. Stacker managed to throw Michael backwards. As he stumbled, Michael's flailing hand caught Durant off guard and his fingers tore the fake beard from the other man's face.

"Get him!" Durant shouted as he spun away, trying to hide his face.

"You got it." Stacker stepped backwards and levelled his weapon.

He fired a second round and Michael was hit. As Michael spun around, he was shot again in his side. He tumbled backwards down the steps and lay still.

As Michael landed heavily on the ground, Kitt shouted, "Michael!"

The Trans Am shifted to AUTO CRUISE and his gear stick into drive. As he started to spin out the three intruders ran to the railing to stare down at Michael's bullet-ridden body lying below.

Michael fought to try and focus on the faces of the three men. Martoni still held the aluminium case to his chest. Stacker raised his weapon and stood ready to fire.

"Finish him!" Durant commanded grimly.

Suddenly, the three of them heard Kitt. Stacker swung his weapon around to fire at the rapidly approaching car. He emptied the rest of his clip at the vehicle as Kitt managed to position himself to shield Michael's fallen body. Alarm sirens began to wail and there was the distant sound of shouting.

"Forget him! Let's move!" Durant commanded as he broke for the van. His two henchmen followed closely behind.

"Did you see any driver in that car?" Stacker demanded to know as he ran past the van to the rear doors. "I mean, it looked like it was empty."

"Nah…" Martoni replied. "But I wasn't lookin' either!" He opened his door and jumped up into the driver's seat.

"Stop talking and get going!" Durant ordered as he slammed his door shut.

"Yes, Boss!" Martoni fired the ignition, and the van swerved into a U-turn and barrelled away.

"I got you, Buddy!" Kitt remained over Michael's fallen body, protecting him from further harm.

He made contact with the paramedic call centre, summoning them to his location. "This is an emergency! Dispatch a unit to the Data Centre - twenty-two thousand Hill Mount! Man in need of immediate life support systems!"

Michael lay on the ground with his life slowly ebbing away. He tried to focus as he stared up at Kitt, but everything was blurred. The commlink on his arm blinked.

"Move, Michael. Move any part…" Kitt instructed. "Please Michael…" He waited. "Chew me out! Shout at me! Do something!"

But his prone pilot didn't answer, and he didn't move. Kitt scanned his vital signs and began to recite a religious prayer Devon had taught him a long time ago…

※※※※※

The rotating red lights flashed atop the paramedics' ambulance. The sun shone down on the chaos and bloodied concrete. Black and whites had arrived on the scene.

Uniformed officers combed the area as Michael's body was strapped to a gurney by two paramedics. IV tubes were held steady as the gurney was wheeled across to be loaded into the rear of the ambulance.

The first paramedic climbed inside, and the rear doors were slammed shut. The driver floored it and the vehicle raced away at high speed. Unnoticed by the crowd of police officers, Kitt followed the ambulance.

Inside, wires led from Michael's shallowly moving chest to an EKG monitoring system. The medic leaned down close beside Michael to adjust his face mask before he placed a blood pressure cuff on his arm.

Behind the speeding ambulance, Kitt kept pace with the vehicle. He'd tuned into the ambulance's frequency and Michael's vital signs appeared on his screen.

"Oxygen, give him oxygen..." Kitt muttered. "That's correct. Now check his pressure and vital signs."

"Ambulance twenty-two…" the medical call centre patched through. "What's the status of your patient?"

The ambulance driver looked back over his shoulder with a worried frown. "They wanna know how he's doing."

The medic in the back responded grimly, "The patient's in extremis. I think we're going to lose him if you don't go faster."

"I'm already breaking the speed of sound," the driver muttered as he depressed his foot right to the floor.

"Come on, Michael…" Kitt urged as he monitored the ambulance's EKG screen. "Stay with me, please. I can't do it without you, Buddy…" But still, Michael's heartbeat was barely registering.

"I have to tell Devon," the Trans Am muttered as he raced behind the ambulance as it shot through the open gates of the data centre.

He patched through an urgent call to the Foundation's HQ. He finally tracked Devon down to the industrial building behind the house.

"Bonnie has been monitoring the scene at the data centre," Devon told him. "The police scanner detailed there's been a shooting. What do you have to report, Kitt?"

"Devon, Michael has been shot twice," he replied. There was no way to sugarcoat the awful truth. "It doesn't look good at all. He's on his way to hospital. I'm monitoring his vitals and he's failing."

"We won't allow him to fail," Devon replied grimly. "Keep on it!"

Kitt paused. "Devon… I'm on scene outside the hospital. What can I do?"

"Nothing, Kitt," Devon replied crisply. "Just stay where you are and monitor the scene. We'll get there as quickly as we can. I'll arrange for a squad of our best operatives to provide armed protection."

The line went dead. Kitt sighed as he felt a frisson of tension ripple across his circuits. It was at times like this he wished he was more than a sentient car.

"I have the heart and the soul of a doctor. But the rest of me…" He sighed his deep discontent.

※※※※※

Lying on the ambulance gurney, Michael felt his life was ebbing away like water dripping slowly from a punctured hose. He tried to move but the Empire State Building had settled on his chest and all he could manage was a faint flicker of his eyelashes. Then he couldn't move at all.

Another immense skyscraper settled over the first and he felt as if he was being slowly ground down to dust. There seemed to be no escape from the numbness and the paralysing effect of the pain that screamed through every sinew and vein, making him wish he was already dead.

The ambulance swayed and rocked beneath him, adding fresh layers of agony to his pain. Someone was working furiously over him, presumably trying to keep him on this side of the veil.

'Sorry, Buddy…' he whispered inside his tortured mind as he reached out toward Kitt. 'But I don't think I'm gonna make it. Not this time… I… I'll give my regards to Tanya if I see her out there, somewhere…'

Kitt pulled up behind the stationary ambulance when it reached the hospital's emergency entrance. He tried to see what was happening. But Michael and his gurney were already gone, hustled away down the hospital corridor.

"Good luck, Buddy," he whispered. "I'll be right here waiting for you to come back to me."

Inside the hospital, the controlled chaos of the medical personnel administering aid to a patient nearing death worked on Michael as he was being wheeled down the hospital corridor by the paramedics.

From somewhere beyond Michael, a woman's voice began to shout, "Code blue! Code blue! We're losing him, doctor!" The nurse raced alongside the gurney.

"Code blue, doctor!" she shouted to the medic who hurried up. "We've got a clearance on the operating room!"

"Keep going, then!" The doctor turned and joined the race toward the operating room and through the doors.

※※※※※

The lights, white and glowing, were also of an indescribable brilliance. The glare penetrated Michael's closed lids turning everything blood red. He seemed to be drifting in a twilight world where voices echoed and were distorted.

"We got a bleeder here…" a man said. "Look at this mess…"

Michael wanted to ask what was going on. Was this place heaven, or just the waiting room? But his throat refused to work.

It was stopped up with plastic tubes that tasted God-awful, but he was powerless to spit them out. He wanted to raise one hand to rip them away, but still more of those blasted skyscrapers pressed down on his chest and limbs.

Even his eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Someone briefly pushed one up to peer into his eye, but he couldn't see who it was. The lights were too bright.

'Where are you, Buddy?' he called inside the tortured darkness of his mind. 'Where'd you go? Don't leave me alone here, in the dark…'

Three masked doctors were positioned above the operating table. They leaned into the glare as they worked tirelessly to save their patient's slowly ebbing life.

"We need another sponge here, nurse…"

"Get that blood in here, stat!"

"Yes, doctor…"

"We're losing him…"

"Ah… there it is…"

"Okay, let's tie it off…"

"We're still losing some blood here…"

"Yeah… It wants to play hide and seek…"

"Find it and fix it, stat! Or we'll lose him, for sure…"

Those were the last words Michael was aware of. The whole world caved in around him then and he sank down and down into an abyss of darkness that was more stygian than the blackest night he'd ever known…

※※※※※

Five hours later, Devon and Bonnie paced the patient's waiting room, waiting and watching for any news. Endless cups of coffee had been consumed, black and strong. But the caffeine didn't help. They both still felt helpless and in shock.

Kitt sat outside in the carpark. He too waited and watched and felt useless. He could do nothing to soothe his shattered composure.

The leader of the protection squad reported to Devon that all was quiet. They hadn't seen signs of anyone trying to penetrate to get at Michael. His men were stationed quietly and unobtrusively around the intensive care ward keeping a twenty-four-hour guard.

Driven by the torture of waiting to be told anything, Devon and Bonnie returned again to the nurse's station. "There's still no word?" Devon asked the nurse seated behind the counter. "It's been hours."

"Sorry…" She shook her head. "I wish I had more."

"So do we," Bonnie replied, trying not to cry.

The sun had swung overhead and was now sliding down toward the horizon. The darkness of evening would soon arrive. But here, inside the brightly lit corridors, it could have been any time of the day or night. Not that either of them cared or noticed.

"Come on…" Devon took Bonnie's arm intending to escort her back to the waiting room.

But they had barely gone three steps when the head surgeon approached them. He'd pulled his green surgical cover from his head. His face was pensive and grimly set.

As he reached them, he nodded slowly and huffed a small, disbelieving laugh. "I don't know how it's even possible, or which angel is looking out for him, but he made it. But barely. It was touch and go for a while and he'll need to take it easy for some time."

"Oh, thank God…" Tears welled up in Bonnie's eyes as she turned into Devon's close embrace.

"Yes…" Devon wrapped his arms around Bonnie, comforting her as he did his best to cover his own emotional state. "Thank you, Doctor…"

"Maybe God had a hand in it," the surgeon admitted with a wry shake of his head. "But your young man seems to be stronger than ten oxen. I'll be back later when there's more information." He turned and walked away, still shaking his head in bemusement.

"I didn't think he had a chance..." Bonnie sighed. "I thought this was finally it. That I'd never see him again."

"Of course, he had a chance..." Devon replied as he pulled back to look down at her. "He wouldn't have had it any other way."

He huffed a rueful sigh. "The day Michael decides to leave us, it will be on his terms and no one else's."

He drew Bonnie close again and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Kitt will be pleased…"

Outside in the parking, Kitt was watching the EKG monitor on his screen. The work helped him rationalise his tangled feelings. He watched and waited as Michael's heartbeat grew slowly stronger.

It was an infinitesimal movement, but it was there if one looked close enough. And Kitt was looking very, very closely.

"Well done, Doctor. And thank you…"

※※※※※

Durant's impressive estate gleamed in the late afternoon sunshine. The luxurious house was both his latest home and bolt hole. With its wrought iron gates and manicured grounds, the mansion sat proudly on the summit of the property overlooking the ocean. But Durant could abandon it at any moment if he needed to do so. He valued nothing more than his own skin and his carefully crafted state of anonymity.

Beyond the enormous house, the swimming pool area spread out over the lower level that overlooked the ocean. With its panoramic view, it was a wonderful place to relax and plan the mastermind's next big job. His skills were for sale to the highest bidder.

Durant was seated at a poolside table as a long-limbed beauty swam laps in the pool. The estate's owner paid no attention to her as he read The Wall Street Journal. A stack of newspapers occupied the table next to him.

Without his fake beard and glasses, Durant appeared to be in his late forties, with cold, dark eyes and a bearing of lethal danger. The ladies liked that side of him. That feeling of not quite being in control. There was a sense of barely controlled energy in Durant that sat within him like a coiled spring.

Stacker exited the house and crossed the lawn to sit in the chair next to Durant's. His boss continued to read, then discarded the paper and picked up a New York Times.

Stacker moved his shoulders. "It's working like a charm down at the Data Centre. In the next few days, we could be selling government information for millions. This is the score of a lifetime. Thanks for cutting me in on the deal."

Durant rustled his newspaper as he continued to read. "For you maybe, but not for me," he replied dismissively in a cultured European accent. "The access to the government computers could be worth maybe six or eight million. After overheads and payoffs, there'll be less than two million for me."

He waved one hand at their surroundings. "That's twelve to eighteen months of this lifestyle that I've gotten very used to. So that amount of money is not nearly enough." He continued to read. "I am already planning my next heist."

"Well, it means a lot more than that to me," Stacker complained. "I got big plans too."

Durant finally looked up at him. "Different tastes, Mr Stacker. Perhaps you'll develop more of them as you realise you can afford them. As for me, I'm far too easily bored."

He pointed his chin toward the winsome beauty still doing her laps in the pool. "Like her. She's been here too long. I am beginning to dislike even her smell. She fawns all over me like an over-eager puppy and keeps calling me, baby."

Stacker frowned. "But she's only been here for a day. I brought her over for you. Purdue said she was something special. He said she has skills."

"Far too long," Durant replied. "She bores me with her petty tricks and fake cries. Once our business is concluded, you will get her out of my pool, pay her off and dismiss her. I have more important problems. Have you heard anything from Martoni?"

"Klus did. He's waiting for us up in the computer room."

"Okay…" Durant sighed as he stood up and stretched. "I'll go and see him then." He moved away from the pool area and walked toward the house.

Stacker got up and followed him. He was still trying to get his head around what was wrong with the woman in the pool. She looked mighty fine to him as they walked past her and up the steps to the house. He would deal with her later.

Durant walked into the house. "This is where Klus always is. In a room, plugged into his technological world. Between computers and model planes, all he needs is eight hours sleep and a box of Corn Flakes."

Durant and Stacker walked through the enormous house and entered a large room. It was an advanced, complex, high-tech computer control centre. A computer expert sat at the controls of a machine that had a coded message on its screen.

On a large worktable beside him, was a half-finished project. A Cox Cessna 182 Skyline model aeroplane lay in several pieces waiting to be assembled.

Klus turned to Durant as soon as his boss entered the room. He indicated a computer screen where a message had just been posted. "It's from our contact in East Germany. They're ready to transfer funds."

"I can see that." Durant stopped him with a dismissive hand gesture. "What did you hear from Martoni?"

Klus removed his glasses to frown at him. Then he said, "Ah, he said Michael Knight is still alive and in the hospital. It seems he works for some organisation called FLAG. Martoni said you'd know about them. Seems you've had a run-in with them before."

Durant's eyes tightened with anger. "The Foundation for Law and Government. A glorified group of specialists who think they can stick their noses into anyone's business and change the world to suit themselves."

He shrugged. "They run around with fancy gadgets and even fancier remote-controlled cars. They nearly caught me once. I had to fake my own death to escape."

His hard mouth set grimly. "If Michael Knight is one of their crusaders, then we've got to end him, or he will never leave us alone. Tell the buyers there'll be a delay in the final transfer. I want this matter dealt with."

"Yes, Sir…" Klus replaced his glasses. But he looked none too pleased.

Stacker glared at him. "What do you mean, 'delay'? I want my money. Like I said, I got plans."

His eyes flicked in the direction of the pool outside. Since the boss was finished with that leggy, gorgeous chick he'd brought in just yesterday…

Durant shrugged. "Michael Knight has to be eliminated first. He's seen my face. So, there'll be no money for any of us 'til I know Michael Knight is dead and buried six feet down."

"That ain't gonna be easy, Boss," Stacker complained.

"No, it isn't…" Klus frowned at both of them. "That Michael Knight you're so keen on killing. Martoni also told me he's got company. There's plenty of them and they're all armed and standing guard."

"Then tell Martoni his share just got doubled if he finds a way inside," Durant sneered. "And I'll double it again if any of you morons can get the job done for me. Time is not on my side."

"Okay, Boss…" Stacker knuckled his temple and forgot all about the blonde outside in the swimming pool. "You got it. This Knight guy's as good as dead already."

"I'll tell Martoni right away," Klus added. "He'll find a way inside."

※※※※※