From: questgrl2@juno.com Disclaimer: I don't own JQ. Not making money. Ethan is mine, but you can use him with my permission. Thanx. Archivers: PLEASE take it. You don't know how sad it is . . .when I happen up on a webpage. .and don't see my work !!!! Seriously though, do take it. Category: (kinda) E, F, a little Angsty Rating: I'll give this one a PG-13ish rating Ethan (2/?) Sometimes waiting isn't the answer. By Dana Cain A chilly, spine-tingling floor firmly held the back that was laid upon it. A few deep, callous breaths were drawn. The black silence was interrupted with faint murmurs and the gentle light glimmering from the crack underneath the door. The eyes slowly moved to the light. Hands clutched clothing, waiting with fear and dread. The rows and rows of towels couldn't keep one hidden; they couldn't save a life. The thoughts were so fast that they raced through the brain without stopping. A simple thought seemed so difficult. Only one kept haunting the mind. They were going to kill her. They were going to kill her. She sat up, smacking herself gently, trying to shake herself out of the daze. How did things turn out this way? What information did they want from Madame President? << The palace has been remodeled many times. . .>> The catacombs. Melosh. Anna Kafka. <> How could she do it? How could she leave her friend? Rachel Wildey's best friend? Jessie Bannon frantically pawed the tiled floor. Stasny was as good as dead, and she knew it. But how could she live with the fact that she didn't help someone in need? She couldn't! She absolutely couldn't. Her hands slowly pawed over a crack. She felt a handle. There *was* a door in the linen closet! But Madame President . . .how could she knowingly leave her? "I'm going back in there," Jessie thought. "Even if I get killed, I want to do what is honorable!" Her frail body stepped over the towels and she eased out of the closet. She watched in horror as Stasney's limp body fell to the floor. It was too late. Oh, God. It was too late. The pale brown eyes turned to see the redhead peeking from the bathroom door. Jessie's eyes narrowed, and then widened. He had watched her grow up. His fake Russian accent - the sheer tone of his voice - it simply told so much. Her mind kept screaming "RICHARDS?!?" but her body told her to run. She quickly dove into the closet, and pried open the trap door. "This is it," she whispered, and threw herself down a small tunnel. Her frantic, distraught body landed in a pile of satin sheets. Such comfort during a discomforting time. The laundry room. Thank God no one was there. Jessie took one of the sheets and covered herself with it. She noticed the "dumb waiter" beside one of the wash bins. She had to get out before anyone saw her. Climbing into the dumb waiter, Jessie felt the ropes tug and heave as they tried to hold her body up. Her mind kept screaming with thought, but her body remained focused. She quickly pulled on the ropes until she got to the kitchen. Kicking the door open with all of her might, she rolled into the palace galley to find a group of cooks staring oddly at her. "STASNY! The President is DEAD!" she cried in their native tongue, hoping she got the words right. Jessie ran out of the kitchen and down the hall. ******************************** "Where did she go?" one of them cried out. "In the closet!" Richards cried in Russian. "I'll check it out!" He opened the door, expecting to find a frightened girl, but found nothing but towels. His eyes wandered to small opening on the floor. "She's gone!" he cried in perfect, unaccented English. "What?! That's not possible!" Lopez cried. "She must have escaped somehow! Our chopper is here now! We either go or get killed! The guards will be in this room any minute!" Smith cried in Russian, obviously afraid. "Then we take the old exit!" the man with the black eyes said, his Russian accent wavering. He kicked the panel on the side of the wall. Everyone don civilian clothes ASAP!" "What about Bannon's daughter?!?!" Smith asked. "Who cares?!!? She thinks a bunch of Russians killed Stasny! Let them take the heat! We'll worry about that later!" Lopez cried, making sure his Russian accent was thick and heavy. "And what if she's smarter than that?" Richards asked, his pale brown eyes turning towards his teammates. "We worry about that later!" Smith yelled. "Let's go!" "Too easy," the black-eyed man remarked, sliding through the door in the wall. "Simply too easy." ************************************************ Safety. Only a few doors down. Oh please, God. Don't tell me that he's with them. He didn't know, God. Tell me that he didn't know! Oh, *please*! Jessie banged on the door frantically and threw the satin sheet down on the ground. Race squinted at the light, his eyes focusing on his daughter. "Ponchita? What's going on?" "Stasny's been assassinated!" Jessie cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What?!?" Race yelled, putting his hands on her shoulders. "How do you know about this, Jessie?" Richards's face suddenly sprang into her mind. "I-I was on her hall! I heard people announcing it! Oh dad, she's dead!" she cried, collapsing into her father's arms. Race's mind was filled with confusion, but his first instinct was to comfort his precious child. Jessie had only wanted to go to the library. She had remembered a question that she wanted to ask Madame President, and she stopped by her room after reading. Elena sat on her regal bed, a smile on her face, pictures everywhere. Jessie gaped in awe at pictures of Rachel Wildey-Quest during her college days, Dr. Quest and Rachel's wedding, and the shared memories between two best friends. Jessie had went to use the bathroom when she heard an odd noise - it almost sounded like a wall opening . . . Now, her world lay in pieces on the floor. Elena was with her best friend now. She could feel free to reminisce as much as she pleased. Bloodstained memories were scattered on the floor. Discarded clothing was left in a secret passage. The body was left on the floor like a meaningless object. Race and Jessie stood silently in the room, watching the police and guards slowly mark and take pictures of the room. Jessie wiped away salty tears as Race kept his solid arm around her. "Why would anyone do this?" he asked. "What would the motive be?" "I wish I knew," she whispered. Oh, how she wished she knew. ********************************* "I know he saw me. I know he did. They all knew it was me. But what frightened him the most was that *I* knew that it was Richards. Even with his ski mask, his black clothing and his fake Russian accent, I still knew him. I'm not sure how they got in the palace, or why they even wanted to kill Stasny. I just picked up the pictures that weren't ruined and put them in my suitcase for Dr. Quest. I went to my room and just stared out the window and cried for hours. I wouldn't let dad leave my side." Her picturesque face brushed away a falling tear. She gave a small sniffle. Hadji put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "And you never told Race?" "No! How could I do it, Hadj? He obviously didn't know anything about it. He was as shocked as I was! To let him know that something he believed so firmly in -was so evil - oh, it would crush him. It would totally crush him. Richards was like a second father to me growing up! Oh, Hadji! I couldn't do it!" "But you had to tell someone, didn't you?" "Yeah, just holding it in was killing me. You know, dad and I went to Prague just to relax. We just decided to go for a friendly visit, to spend some time together - and look what happened. It was the worst time of my life," Jessie almost whispered, running her finger through some of the dry sand. She softly listened as the ocean crashed against the shore. "Why don't you tell your father about it, Jessie? I know he would believe you. And he would understand!" "NO! I can't tell him Hadji! Don't you understand that?! I can't tell him right now! Promise me you won't tell!" "Jessie, I do believe that your life could be in danger. You really should tell your fath - " Jessie turned to him, her sharp green eyes narrowing. "Hadji, promise me you won't tell anyone - especially dad - about this." "I will not tell," Hadji reasoned, "but you don't tell him soon, I must tell him." "I'll tell him, Hadji. I will. But it just has to be own my own time!" "Jessie, this worries me. Isn't your life in grave danger? The men know that it was you, and they know who you are, not to mention where you live!" "And they also know that Race Bannon is my father. And they know that if I were going to make anything public, I would have done it by now. It's almost been a month." "You are only giving excuses, my friend." "Hadji, I've confided in you. You've always been a confidant. You can't even tell Jonny. Understand?" "I do, but please know that if you do not tell anyone soon -" "I know! I know!" Jessie cried, waving her hand as if to keep him from talking. She picked up a handful of sand and let it gently fall through her clenched fist. She watched as the tiny grains mixed in slowly with the others. Tears began to roll down her face again. "What is wrong, Jessie?" Hadji asked, putting his arm around his friend. "You should have seen her, Hadj. It wasn't right. She was just on the floor, covered in blood - and all of those pictures! They stabbed her so many times that I couldn't even stop to count! Why did they do this!?!? What was their motive!? She didn't do anything to them, Hadj! A-any -" Jessie's voice broke down into a wailing sob. Hadji hugged her gently, and she put her tired arms around him. He sighed. For the slightest, oddest moment, he felt as if he were in Race's shoes. This was what Race was supposed to be doing. Comforting his daughter. Jessie wasn't right in keeping the secret from her father, this he knew. If only he could tell Race. No, he could not. Hadji Singh was always a man of his word. Hadji gently broke away and held his arm up in front of Jessie's face. "You can use my arm for a tissue if you would like!" Her blotched face broke into a smile. She wiped the tears on her bare arms. "No thanks. Sorry about that, but I just had to talk to you! Please keep my secret, Hadj. Please?" "You have my word," he murmured, and then sighed. "We had better get up to the main house. The sun is setting and we are not ready yet. Do remember, it is your birthday." "I forgot all about going out!" she cried. "Hadji, if anyone asks, I have the teen-age blues. It's not entirely a lie, you know." "You know that I cannot lie," he joked. She playfully hit him. "I wouldn't ask you to, oh honorable one!" He stood up and helped her too her feet. She quickly brushed the sand off. "Whatever happens with this, remember that you are always my friend," he said. Jessie's eyes started to tear up again. "Thanks," she whispered, giving him a hug. "You're the greatest, Hadj." "Tomorrow will be good for you," Hadji assured. "You will see your mother, be back home, and you can see your grandparents. You can take a break from all of the stress up here. It is just what you need." They both started to walk back up to the Maine mansion. "Things really haven't been the same since we rebuilt the Compound," Jessie commented. "You're right. I need to go home - to something steady - and take a break." "Call us if you get bored," Hadji said. "Don't worry. Mom will probably have a couple of digs that I'll be uninterested in, and I'm just so tired - I want to take a break from that." "Jessie Bannon is uninterested in Archeology? What has happened?" Hadji joked. Jessie gave him a playful poke. "Nothing! I'm just a little tired! That's all, I promise. And some of the digs are so far away!" "I understand," Hadji said. And he did. Hadji understood why Jessie was upset about the ordeal; he just wondered why she was hiding the truth from so many people. Oh, he wished she would come clean with this soon. "Well, here we are!" Jessie cried, and then looked at her watch. "You'd better get ready if you're going to get in that tux!" Hadji laughed. "I do not have to primp, my friend!" Jessie threw her head back and laughed. "This is so cool . . .a dinner in my honor at the best place around! Hope Jonny doesn't spill anything!" "He won't," Hadji assured. "Thanks for listening, Hadji. You made me feel so much better." "Of course," he said as he watched her enter the house. He dropped his head and sighed. Poor Jessie. To know that she knew enough information to make the nation go into an uproar - or to start a war - scared him to death. Something had to be done. And something had to be done soon. Jessie's safety depended on it. End of part 2. Comments. . .must have .. .comments . .. Please??? Send 'em to questgrl2@juno.com Dana <>< Questgrl2@juno.com Quote for the day - Serena: Cool! A virtuous reality theater! Luna: A VIRTUAL reality theater. Serena: I knew that! ___________________________________________________________________ You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail. Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com/getjuno.html or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ta Da! Come see our new web site! http://www.onelist.com Onelist: A free email community service