From: LLoisarah@aol.com To: jqml@onelist.com Cc: suzehowe@hotmail.com Date: Fri, 12 Mar 1999 14:44:35 EST Subject: [JQML] [fic] Missing Pieces 2/3 Message-ID: <2130f98.36e96ea3@aol.com> Return-path: Reply-To: JQML@onelist.com Received: from mx2.boston.juno.com (mx2.boston.juno.com [205.231.101.55]) by x2.boston.juno.com (8.8.6.Beta0/8.8.6.Beta0/2.0.kim) with ESMTP id OAAAA25035 for ; Fri, 12 Mar 1999 14:44:45 -0500 (EST) Received: from onelist.com (pop.onelist.com [209.207.164.229]) by mx2.boston.juno.com (8.8.6.Beta0/8.8.6.Beta0/2.0.kim) with SMTP id OAAAA27128 for ; Fri, 12 Mar 1999 14:44:42 -0500 (EST) Received: (qmail 18195 invoked by alias); 12 Mar 1999 19:59:43 -0000 Received: (qmail 18180 invoked from network); 12 Mar 1999 19:59:42 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO imo28.mx.aol.com) (198.81.17.72) by pop.onelist.com with SMTP; 12 Mar 1999 19:59:42 -0000 Received: from LLoisarah@aol.com by imo28.mx.aol.com (IMOv19.3) id hZTUa08044; Fri, 12 Mar 1999 14:44:35 -0500 (EST) X-Status: Read X-Mailer: AOL 4.0 for Windows 95 sub 13 X-Juno-Att: 0 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit From: LLoisarah@aol.com Part 2 Transitions Rachel and Jonny sat in the seats of the Quest Enterprises jet that was to take them back to the US, staring at their traveling companion sitting opposite them. He seemed oblivious to their stares as he read a newspaper. While he was relaxed and comfortable, they were stiff and ill at ease. Jonny, sitting by the window, glanced away from Race and out the window. The sight didn't cheer him up. Instead, he saw his father's coffin being unloaded from a hearse and six men lift it. "Mom. . . . " he pointed out the window at the grim display. Rachel turned to see what her son was pointing at, and became fixated on the grim vision. "Benton. . . . " she murmured. Race glanced up at the Quests, and then out the window. He folded up his paper and laid it on the seat beside him. In an uncharacteristic move, he leaned forward and took a hold of one of Jonny's and one of Rachel's hands. They had lost an important part of their family like he had. While Jessie and Estella weren't dead, at times, it seemed as if they were. He could never see them, like the Quests will never see the Doctor again. Rachel sensed the bodyguard's feelings of sympathy, and squeezed his hand gratefully, all the while not taking her eyes off of her husband's casket until she could no longer see it. Jonny continued to stare out the window even after the plane had taken off, but Rachel turned her attention to Race. "Mr. Bannon. . . . " "Please, call me Race, Mrs. Quest." "Rachel." "Okay, Rachel." "Race." They both leaned back in their seats and studied each other. Finally, Rachel spoke up. "Are you only escorting us back to the States, Mr. Ban. . . Race?" "As of right now, Rachel. But after the shots at the hotel, I will request to stay with you for at least another few days." "Oh, now, I think that's unnecessary. After all, we've left Paris and. . . " "I don't want to take any chances. And I don't think he would have wanted me to, either." Race stared at Rachel, unwavering. Rachel thought over his words, and nodded her head. "Yes, I think that would be a good idea," She finally said. ******* "Madame? I am afraid I have bad news." "Yes, Jules, what is it?" asked the busy woman, not even looking up from her laptop. Jules coughed in response. "He failed, didn't he?" she asked. Jules nodded. She pounded her fist into the expensive desktop. "What happened? Why the hell is she and the brat still alive?!? I WANT THEM DEAD!" she continued to rant, pulling herself up out of her chair and pacing the large, dimly lit office. She stopped pacing, turning to glare at Jules. "What went wrong?" Through her entire angry display, Jules had watched calmly, coolly. He answered her in kind. "A bodyguard was assigned to the family, a Race Bannon. He saved Mrs. Quest and the boy." The man clasped his hands together behind his back and watched the woman's response. She angrily placed her hands on her hips and contemplated the situation. "Jules, find Tresk. You know what to do." The silent man nodded and waited for further instruction. "Don't fail me, Jules." "Madame, would I be so stupid as to fail you?" Madame smirked in response. "I shall take care of Tresk. Good Evening, Madame." "Good Evening, Jules." With a bow, Jules exited the office. ******** The man in the dismal hotel hurriedly packed his bag. He was leaving Paris, and never looking back. Tresk knew he was in trouble. He'd failed, and that. . . that. . . thing, that. . . .woman would destroy him. He zipped up his bag with a quick glance around the room. "That's it, I'm out of here." That's when he heard it. A cough. He turned, and saw a tall, thin, and grey-haired man. "Who are you?" he asked, afraid of the answer. The only response from the grey-haired man was the removal of a gun from his pocket, and a quick shot at close range on Tresk. Tresk was dead before he hit the ground. ******** Rachel Quest stood alone in Benton's study, watching the Atlantic Ocean through the wide windows. Her hands clutched her necklace, a diamond he'd given her on their last anniversary. Her eyes were red from crying, and her face was pale. The dignified black suit she wore looked unnatural on her. She usually wore a more brightly colored dress, or jeans. Benton had jokingly called this her funeral suit, because it was the only occasion she ever wore it for. The thought made her wonder if he ever considered that she'd wear it to his. Jonny stood in the doorway, watching his mother uncomfortably. She looked so sad, and he knew he couldn't help. He wanted the nightmare to end, for Dad to be back home, to make Mom smile and let Jonny beat him at computer games. Jonny felt a hand on his shoulder, and for a second believed when he turned around he'd see his father grin at him and whisper to be quiet so he could sneak up on Mom like she usually did to him. Instead, he saw the new bodyguard, Race. Race placed his finger over his lips, and guided Jonny out of the doorway and to the living room. "Jonny, I think your mother would rather be alone now." Race looked down at the young boy, trying hard to not think of his daughter. Did she miss him how this child missed his father? Did she even know he was alive, or why he was gone? Pushing thoughts of Jessie out of his mind, he looked down at Jonny. "Jonny, if you need to talk, I'm here." "Yes, sir." He didn't even look up at Race. "Can I go to my room?" "Sorry, Kiddo. We have to leave in a few minutes, I guess you're stuck with me." The two were startled to hear Rachel clear her throat. They looked up at her standing above them. "Let's just go now, get it over with." She continued to walk towards the door, expecting them to follow. ******** After the graveside service, only a handful of people remained. Jonny sat in his chair, legs wrapped around the bottom of it, hunched over, trying to not look at the casket in front of him. A small Indian boy, a few years older than Jonny, sat beside him, keeping silent company. He wore a turban that looked odd on his small body. Behind the two boys, Race Bannon kept a close watch on the proceedings. The Indian boy's parents sat beside Race. Rachel stood beside the coffin, with another woman standing beside her, attempting to offer support. "I am so sorry, Rachel. This shouldn't have happened to a nice family like you. This violence makes me ill, it really does." Alexis put her arm on Rachel's shoulder and offered her a Kleenex. "Thank you, Ms. Donovan. It was. . . it was nice of you to attend the funeral." "I had to come, Rachel. I considered Benton a friend, after all the times we'd worked together. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Rachel looked at the woman, confused. Alexis was a wealthy woman, and about the only contact she'd had with the Quests was to help fund a few of Benton's projects. Rachel continued to watch Ms. Donovan in surprise as she pulled a single white rose from the flowers atop the coffin, and held it to her lips. Alexis paused, kissed the rose, and carefully placed it back on the coffin. Looking at Rachel one more time, she smiled slightly and walked away. Rachel walked up to the coffin, looked down at it thinking her heart would break. "Benton, goodbye." She turned to leave, but not without grabbing Alexis Donovan's rose and throwing it savagely to the ground. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you like orange and blue, then you will love our new web site! http://www.onelist.com Onelist: Fostering connections and information exchange