From: Frank Curtin <curtin@fcc.net>
To: JQML@onelist.com
Date: Tue, 23 Mar 1999 16:41:59 -0500
Subject: [JQML] Past Part 2
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From: Frank Curtin <curtin@fcc.net>

To: the mailing list
Disclaimer: I don't any of the Hana Baraba characters and I'm not making
any money off of this fic. (although with all the technical difficulties
I've been having, I do seem to be abtaining white hairs. Currently, I
have six, all given to me by my darling computer.)
Archieve: If you would like, I'd be honored to be in.
Ratings: HR,E,F
Note: I'm sorry about the way this looks but my computer is refusing to
cooperate. I've already rewritten, reparagraphed, recentered, and
re-everything elsed eight times, but no matter what I do, the computer
does what it wants. (the whole thing is smushed over to the side because
my word processor deleted its memory banks and the disks I have
everything stored on are not talking to my email and any so any
formatting changes I make only have a twenty percent chance of
happening.)
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Two more white hairs just sprouted up. I see
more in my future, many more.
*If this actually gets to the list, I'm sorry it took so long.

Past, Present, and Future          (Part 2, but not the last)
By Michelle Curtin  (All times are for New York)
           November 14, 9:19am
             Myshell looked over at the clock on the wall for about the
fiftieth time that day. It was exactly two minutes later than the last
time she had looked.  Jessie was late, two whole hours late. Myshell had
finally found out what had Jessica so shook up yesterday. It seemed that
a copy of the experimental Alphaomega project had been stolen. After the
"situation"
the day before Myshell would have thought she would have been in extra
early to try and safe guard the rest of the program. It wasn't like her
to not let someone know where she was. *Where is she? Something must be
wrong, Jess has never, ever been this late. Even after she bumped into
that hottie yesterday she was still on time for work.* Myshell paged
Harvey over their special walkie-talkies and asked him to check up on
Jess. Twenty minutes later he sent word that she hadn't answered any of
his attempts. *Five more seconds and I'm buzzing Charlie.* Myshell
reached over and brought the phone to her ear, all the while dialing the
security desk. After two rings someone from the office downstairs picked
up. Most likely a receptionist used to take complaints.
             "Hello," said a calm female voice. "How may I help you?"
"Hi, this is Myshell Okowso up in development. I need to talk to Charles
O'Brien, head of
security."
"Unless this an absolute emergency, Miss. Okowso, I'm afraid that's not
possible at the moment."
"Listen you bag of hot air," she snarled into the phone. "Patch me
through right now or you'll be out of job so fast your head will spin.
Got it?"
"No, you listen. I'm sick of hearing you people making demands like
you're in charge or something.You'd better have a damn good explanation
for...," at that point Myshell tuned out and tried to take deep breaths.
She had had just about enough and she wasn't in any mood to sit there
while a lowly operator mouthed off.
         "Sim sim salabim," she cut in.
"...this interruption, excuse me? What was that again?"
"Sim sim salabim," she repeated as her last shred of patience began to
wear down.
"I'm so sorry," said the woman. She was on the verge of jabbering. "I
had no idea...,"
"Just connect me."
"Of course," she replied, quickly transferring her to a security line.
             "Shut up you imbeciles!" bellowed a deep voice from the
other end. "I don't want to hear any more excuses. I want that copy
found and I want it found now!" Charlie shouted, causing Myshell to pull
her ear away from the phone. He obviously wasn't having much luck
locating the stolen program. "Yeah, whaddya want?" he snapped into the
mouthpiece.
"My, aren't we pleasant this morning," Myshell cooed sarcastically. Her
day hadn't been much better than his so far and she sure as hell wasn't
going to sit there and take any of his bull.
"Don't say anything else Charlie, just listen. Jess is missing. She
hasn't shown up yet and Harvey couldn't get a hold of her."
 "What do you mean?!" he roared. "Don't tell me he tried her beeper,
pager, phone, hologrid, e-mail, and all of her neighbors and still
couldn't reach her. She was supposed to be here two hours ago!"
"Why do you think I called?!" She yelled back at him.  Silence ensued on
the other end. "Look, I don't know what to do," her voice lowered. "What
if someone found out who she was or what we've been doing with
Alphaomega? What if...," she broke off, unable to continue. Her tongue
seemed to be filling up her mouth, preventing her from continuing.
         "What about the guy she met the other day? Bryne something, I
think she said." Charlie sounded almost as shook up as Myshell.
"West," she piped in miserably.
"Right. Maybe he's got something to do with this. I'll have a profile
done A.S.A.P." Charlie was all business again, but that was Charlie. She
knew he was as worried as she was, but he wouldn't let his fear stop him
from taking action. "We'll find her," he promised softly.
*******
     11:38am

    Jessica struggled to her feet, still woozy from the bump on her
head. As she did so pain surged through her body. Her legs and arms
protested as she strained the cramped muscles and almost faltered. Only
pure stubbornness and pride kept her from falling back to the floor. She
was determined not to let the barbarian who had kidnapped her see any
weakness.
*Not a barbarian,* she amended. *A parasite. He uses others while
pretending to help them, then kills them. Of course, he probably
considers himself above all that, a cultured and sophisticated being.
All that money he most likely has makes him feel above the rest of the
sludge, but he's not. He's still just like all the rest of them, selfish
and egotistical,* she thought with contempt. Jessica had been raised to
hate his kind of criminal, those who used people to gain power and then
neatly disposed of them when their purpose was fulfilled. He was the
worst kind because he wasn't just evil, he was smart too.
         "So," she began, trying not to let the contempt she was feeling
slip into her voice. She angled her head toward the ceiling in the
general direction where the voice had been coming from. "When do I start
my new job?" Jessica wasn't really interested in her assignment. There
were more pressing matters on her mind at the moment. "I hope it's not
until after I get a bathroom break," she commented dryly. Jessica had
been crossing her legs ever since she had regained consciousness. It was
only a matter of time before she made a puddle on the floor and she was
pretty sure that wouldn't help to win her captor's respect.
         Luckily laughter rang out from hidden speakers in the room. "I
believe that can be arranged. Demitri, my personal aid, will be standing
outside the currently locked door and will bring you to the proper
facilities. He will then show you to the dining hall for lunch. After
such a long nap you must be famished. While you eat, another one of my
employees will arrive and explain the specifics of your new position.
And, please, Miss. Bannon, do behave yourself. I would hate to have to
do something drastic. It would be a pity for anything to befall a
beautiful, fiery young woman such as yourself," and with that the voice
cut out,
sending her cell door swinging open. Directly outside it, just as
promised, was her guide, a tall, burly man with cold, unblinking eyes.
         *Sexist,* she silently shot back at the voice over the intercom
before turning her attention to the nearby man. *Well,* she thought, as
she strolled over to his side. *He seems charming. I especially love his
smile, or lack there of.*
"Come on. Let's get a move on it," he barked out. As they walked Jessica
reached out and tapped his right shoulder.
        "I don't suppose you could tell me how far the bathroom is from
here?" she inquired.Jessica was trying to the best of her abilities to
make polite conversation without letting either of them lose sight of
her immediate goal. The man ignored her. She could tell that it was
going to be a long day.
*********
    November 16,2:30pm

         Bryne awoke with a start as his alarm clock sounded with an
annoying beep. Shaking his head to clear it, he reached over to turn off
his alarm clock and groaned. *I should be sleeping with Jessie, not here
by myself.* Waking up beside her had been totally amazing. It had been
wonderful to have another human being lying there, sharing breaths.
Usually he was
too busy running from place to place to even to talk to another human
being, let alone sleep with one. Not just anyone, her. He knew he was in
love with her, and that, more than anything else, petrified him. He'd
fallen hard for someone he had known for an incredibly short amount of
time. He could count on his right hand many times they had seen each
other. Doing something
that dangerous was not an every day occurrence.
         Bryne normally didn't take unnecessary risks. After all, his
"field of expertise" was dangerous enough. He had no idea why he let
himself fall in love with her. She had probably thought nothing of it.
But, then there was also the conversation they had had in the coffee
shop.From what he had found in her files everything she had told him was
completely true. Not once had she told so much as a partial fib. The
fact that she had seen fit to tell him the truth when she could just as
easily have lied to him was undeniably weird. *Maybe she felt something
too. Maybe...,* he trailed off. He knew that even thinking that way
would jinx any chance he had with her. It had probably been just a
one-night thing anyway.  He lay there musing about Jessica when the
phone rang, snapping him out of his daze. *Who could that be? No one,
other than old Tommy boy, has this number and he knows better than to
call.* For an instant he allowed himself to consider it being Jessica on
the line. *Yeah, right.* Bryne leaned over and snatched the phone from
the cradle. Bringing it to his ear he took a deep breath before
answering.
        "Hello."
"Hello. Is this Bryne West?"
"Maybe it is, but then again maybe it isn't. Who wants to know?" he
countered.
 "You sure seem to have a mouthful of questions there, but an obvious
lack of answers.Perhaps you can answer mine first," came the retort. The
man on the other end of the line evidently knew what he was doing. Then
again, so did Bryne. "Are you or are you not Bryne West?"
"When I feel like it."
        "I see. So you're a joker, huh? Well, I can be funny too.
Unfortunately for you as of right now I'm through clowning around." It
was apparent that the other man's patience was beginning to wear a bit
thin. "I want to know what you did with Miss. Bannon."
 Bryne frowned. "Do you mean to tell me she's not at work?" he asked,
sitting up.
Jessica hadn't struck him as the unreliable type, of course his opinion
might not be as objective as most.
"You know perfectly well that she isn't," the voice said, exasperatedly.

"No, actually, I didn't. At least not until you told me. Since I don't
know, I'm going to assume that this is unusual for her." There was no
reply from the other end of the line, so Bryne continued. "I don't
suppose you'd be willing to tell me what exactly has been going on?"
Still there was no answer.
"This line isn't secure," the man finally responded. "Listen, meet me at
132nd street in an hour. From there we can go someplace more private and
I'll explain everything that's been going on."
        "I'll meet you all right, but not there. Some place private is a
perfect place to knock somebody off, if you know what I mean. Wear a
black over coat with a white carnation in one of the buttonholes, a
Yankees cap, and a Cowboys jersey, #22. Be at the multiplex on the
corner of Broadway. We can talk in the Amazon café on the third level.
It's private enough there that we'll both be happy," and with that he
grabbed the telephone and yanked the cord out of the wall, disconnecting
him from the caller.
*********
     3:15pm

         He was there, fifteen minutes early, just like Bryne knew he
would be. It was an older, balding man. His face was stiff and weathered
as if he had lived too long and seen too much. He was wearing the
entire, ridiculous outfit. If their meeting hadn't been so serious Bryne
would have been hysterical.
         Bryne approached from behind him and walked up beside him,
catching his arm as he went. The two merged with the traffic flow and
continued on in silence. Upon reaching the multiplex they stepped out of
the current and pushed their ways through the rotating doors. They got
onto the escalator and traveled up to level three, getting off at the
entrance to the food court. After an eternity of wordlessness the two
finally reached their destination. Casually, they strolled through the
door into the darkened restaurant and right up to the counter. On it sat
large white sign that read in bold, black letters PLEASE SEAT YOURSELF.
The other man looked over at Bryne who shrugged in reply.
         Off they went, all the way to the back of the restaurant.They
sat down in a small booth hidden by several plastic looking trees and
shrubs. A tape played in the background giving off rainforest sounds.
All around them birdcalls echoed through the air, monkeys hooted in
chorus, and the sound of rain falling filled the room. *Could this be
any faker?* Bryne thought as he
rolled his eyes heavenward.
 "Well, you must be the great Mr. West I've been hearing so much about,"
Bryne's companion began.
"I'm Bryne," he said in way of agreement and extended his right hand in
the other man's direction.
The two shook and parted. "Who are you and what have you got to do with
Jes...Ms. Bannon?"
"My name is Charles O'Brien. I'm the head of Vertutech's global security
network. I believe
that answers both of your questions." Bryne nodded but did not speak. "I
don't suppose you'd care to respond to the question I asked earlier on
the phone?"
"Which was?"
         "What happened to Jessie?" the man asked softly. Bryne was
surprised that the man called her that. Most people were not on a first
name basis with their employers, let alone comfortable with using
nicknames. More than that, the man seemed to be genuinely concerned
about her well being.
"I don't know," he replied honestly.
"Everyone at work is worried sick. No one has been able to reach her for
almost three days. It's almost like she just vanished off of the face of
the Earth or something. " Upon hearing that, Bryne's throat went dry,
causing him to sputter and begin coughing. O'Brien reached over to pat
his back, but the younger man waved him off, signaling that it was not
necessary.
 "That's impossible," he said hoarsely. *If anything happened to
her...,* he cut himself off. He couldn't let himself think of her in
trouble, it would cloud his judgement to badly. What he needed now was
to think clearly and keep his mind open.
    "I've devoted Vertutech's entire security force to the job of
finding her, but she's a Bannon." O'Brien let that little piece of
information sink in.
"What do you mean by 'she's a Bannon'?"
"Exactly what sounds like. She has her father's ability to get into and
out of trouble, at her own convenience of course."
"I'm sorry to interrupt. Please, continue."
"Well, after three days of checking, we've been able to come up with is
a list of possible kidnappers. Of course, only the names of known
criminals are on there. It is possible that someone completely new
arranged this." After a moment of thought he threw in something else.
"We might also have discovered where exactly she was taken from."
 "How important is that last piece of information to finding her?"
        "Not very in finding her, but useful in convincing her family to
give us a hand getting her back.The whole family, Bannons and Quests
included, have a tendency to be a cautious in dealing with strangers.
Completely understandable considering their lifestyle." O'Brien paused
momentarily and cocked his head to the side, taking in the other's
reaction. Any normal man would probably have flipped by now, but this
man was just sitting there looking at him like none of this was no a big
deal. "She told you what she does for out company, didn't she?" Bryne's
left eyebrow rose slightly. "It's pretty obvious you know. You weren't
the least bit confused as to why an entire security team would be
looking for one first-degree programmer." O'Brien continued to look at
West, wondering what Jessica had seen that let her trust him with her
life.  "At least, that's
her cover story," he added as an after thought. It was possible she had
never mentioned
anything about being a programmer at all.
"I guess I'm not as good of an actor as I'd like to think," he commented
dryly. Charlie noticed his lack of color and concluded that he might
have to drag him to the nearby hospital. Charlie smiled compassionately
at the young man across from him. In his thirty-two years of service to
Vertutech he had hardly ever trusted anyone. Even after all that the man
had done, all the trouble he had caused, for some inexplicable reason he
trusted him.
        When the company was young it had been scattered across the
globe. The members had been tracked down and killed
for their "gifts" of ingenuity. They were the best of the best and
highly dangerous. Back then  the group was just fighting to survive,
both literally and figuratively. No one was let in without a brutal set
of background checks. One wrong move
and the entire operation could have come crashing down around their
feet. Now Vertutech scanned the planet and employed two tenths of the
global population. A single spy could no longer infiltrate their ranks
and bring everything crashing down. This company, the brainchild of a
few inventive individuals, had a life force all its own.
        Maybe he had gotten soft or maybe his gut instinct was just not
up to the challenge anymore. However you stacked it, Charlie trusted
West. Jessica had never steered him wrong before and he knew she
wouldn't now. Or, so he hoped. If he accepted Charlie's proposal, which
he would, there was going to be a lot riding on this man. If he wasn't
as trustworthy as Jessica had thought...but thinking that way was
pointless. The man knew what he was doing and it was his fault she was
in this mess to begin with. The least he could do was to give West a
chance to fix things. Even with this rationalization Charlie knew he was
going to regret his next decision.
         "I know I'm going to regret this," he began, "but there's no
way around it. We, Vertutech, need your help. She's a very important
person, both to us and to the world. If they were torture her for
information," Charlie stopped and took several deep breaths to center
himself. "Let's just say that things could get pretty sticky if someone
were to get hold of some of the tidbits she's holding onto. She's in
charge of all our technological division and has had a hand in every
project the building has done.
If that weren't bad enough, Jessica never forgets anything, because of
her photographic memory. Everything she's ever seen or done is locked
away in her memory in full, faultless detail."
         "Is that the only reason you want her back? Because of her
memory?"
"She's the president, without her things would be in total chaos until a
replacement came. Jessie has a knack for leadership and a certain
dignified ruthlessness that makes her adaptable and a fast learner. Just
finding someone with the right qualities would take precious years,
maybe even decades, that none of us have." Bryne looked hard at the
security chief, angry with his answer. The other was first to avert his
gaze. "I've always treated Jess like she was one of my own. I've got
four great boys, but she's like the daughter I never had. I love her and
if anything were to happen to her I would personally track down and
eliminate the culprit with extreme prejudice. I think you understand
better than anyone what I mean." Bryne did, it was exactly how he felt.
"Good. I'm going to use one of our programs to track her down. When I
find her, I'd like you to rescue her."
        "Why me? I mean, you've known me for, what, an hour?"
"She trusted you. That's good enough for me. Besides, in a way, this is
your fault. Meet me in the Vertutech lobby at 11:00am tomorrow morning.
I'll give you her coordinates, arrange your transportation, and pack any
little goodies I feel might be useful," Charlie finished as he stood up.
"This place has absolutely terrible service. What if we had actually
wanted something?" he muttered to himself. "Remind me never to come here
for a meal."  The security chief had turned and began to leave when it
occurred to Bryne that he had never agreed to do this. O'Brien had just
assumed that he would go for it, and that, in fact,
he was able to. There was no way the chief could have known if Bryne was
capable of getting intoa heavily fortified building.
         "Hey! What makes you think I know how to do something like
this? For all you know I could sell dolls in a Macey's department store.
And what do you mean this is partly my fault?" he yelled at the
retreating back.
"Because," he said over his shoulder as he continued on, "you obviously
knew what you were doing when you broke in and stole Alphaomega. To top
it off, the only reason they wanted her was to decode Alphaomega."
********
    November 18,7:58am

     Bryne was on his way, off to a remote island somewhere near the
Indian coast. It had taken a bit longer than expected to locate Jessica,
but the wait had been worth it. In the time the Vertutech security was
looking for Jessica, faster and more efficiently than any government
team ever could, O'Brien had explained exactly what was going on. It
seemed that Jessica had been kidnapped and taken to the small, isolated
island of Porte Decala off of India.For reasons unknown to him, the
chief had conveniently forgotten who exactly had had her taken there.
         The Vertutech staff had been able to round up an emergency kit
and a regular pack for getting in and out of the heavily fortified base.
The island itself was totally artificial and armed to the teeth. As a
staffer commented, Houdini would find entering, not even worrying about
the leaving part, to be more than an adequate challenge. After his
briefing Bryne had enough time to call Tommy and request a special
package.
    During the extra day Bryne had spent waiting Tommy had been able to
dig up another pair of Bryne's experimental climbing gloves. The gloves
took some getting used to, but he felt Jessica could handle using them
getting out. These gloves were very new and very "different". In fact
they weren't really gloves, but instead more like an over sleeve. To use
you would slip them
onto your hands, one at a time, and attach them to your bare skin all
the way to your shoulder, hooking them over your head and around the
other side. You then use the other hand to zip the glove up from the tip
of your middle finger to the top at your shoulder. On the underside of
each near the elbow was a small button, which had to be pushed. This
sealed the gloves against
your body, preventing them from slipping off. To use them you just
placed your hands against a wall a move them up, one at a time, very
slowly. Special shoes were also included with the gloves, allowing for
greater ease in accomplishing
the movement up a wall. As soon as Jessica had been located a flight had
been arranged for Bryne.
          When he got to Sir Lanka he would meet a company
representative who would get him transportation to the island and the
necessary equipment for the job. In his pack there would be a pair of
night vision goggles with starlight and infrared capabilities, a 22
silenced with 5 pairs of 20 round clips, a lock picking set (his own was
in California), a set of night clothes,
a special force issued jack knife, and a bottle of Vertutech designed
liquid explosives.
         In just one hour he would be setting down in India, from there
he would carry out the rest of his trip with a small group of experts
monitoring him. Having others around would cramp his style but he knew
in a pinch that a few more hands could make the difference between
getting out with Jessica, or not coming out at all.
*******
    November 19,2:39pm

         Race Bannon leaned over and turned on the living room light for
Benton, who was reading in the dark again. He and Benton were, for once,
actually at home for the holidays. Home for themwas the Quest compound
in Rockport, Maine. The entire compound was, in many ways, almost
efficient enough to be considered a small country. Living like this in
someone else's house had always made Race feel a little uncomfortable,
even though it was part of his job. Race had beenworking there since his
daughter was just five, nearly twenty-two years. None of the Quests had
ever made him or his little Ponchita, Jessie, any thing but welcome. In
fact, they had been made unofficial members of the family with Race an
extra father and Jessie a best friend and sister.
         Thanksgiving was coming up and he could hardly wait to see the
kids. Jonny, Benton's only biological son, would be bringing his fiancée
Sarah to meet them for the first time. Hadji, Benton's adopted son,
yogi, and sultan of India, would be coming with his wife Malana and
their three children. Thinking about the two of them always brought a
smile to Race's lips. Jessie would be arriving a little after, alone.
Race worried about his daughter's happiness. Even though she had
announced engagement plans with a Jacob something or other, he didn't
think that she was really in love with him. She was just to involved
with her job as a programmer at Vertutech. It wasn't that she couldn't
do much, much better, she just didn't try.
         "Thinking deep thoughts, Race?" Benton asked from his perch on
the couch.
"Just worrying about my Ponchita," he replied.
"She's a big girl, Race, and quite capable of taking care of herself.
I've seen her get out of situations with a relative ease that would make
even you grimace. She knows what she's doing."
"I know that Benton. I'm just not sure if she's happy. Whenever I talk
to her she seems so distant, distracted. Kind of like she's got other
things on her mind. Not to mention when I see her. She's always looking
over her shoulder, looking for something, or someone. I never thought of
her as the paranoid type."
 "Hmm. Your right, that doesn't sound a bit like our Jessie."
"I just...," Race began before Iris cut him off. Iris was Questworld's
very own computer designed/generated jack of all trades. She was an
extension of Questworld, represented by a voice alone. Basically, Iris
was their virtual secretary.
"In coming message from Vertutech security chief, Charles O'Brien," she
chimed to the two men. The large screen in the living room flared to
life accompanied after a minute by the image of  the chief.
"Go ahead," Benton said.
         "Are you Roger, also known as Race, Bannon?" questioned the
man.
"Yes I am. What can I do for you?" Race asked with a surprising amount
of courtesy, given his usual temperament when being called by his real
name.
"I'm calling concerning your daughter, Jessica Bannon."
"What's wrong? What happened?" Race's voice immediately filled with
worry and anxiety flooded his face. If anyone had done something to her,
he wanted to know about. The other man hesitated, a mistake on his part.
If anything could piss Race off, it was the possibility that his
daughter was in danger. "Well?!" he practically bellowed. Benton was
sure that if it were physically
possible, his best friend would go straight through the screen and
strangle the man on the other side until he told him what was going on
or until he went limp.
         "Calm down and give the man a chance to speak, Race. We can't
do Jessie any good if we don't know what's been going on in the past
couple of days." Benton turned from his friend to face the monitor and
O'Brien. "Now, if you would be so kind as to tell us what exactly the
problem is, we will be more than willing to help you." The chief nodded
and resumed speaking.
"I'm sorry to say that this line isn't very secure, it's possible that
one of your old enemies could be listening in. All I can tell you is
that we've, Vertutech, suffered a minor 'setback' involving your
daughter. I need you to come to New York immediately. I'll fill in the
rest of the details when you arrive. Vertutech has already purchased a
ticket for each of you and made arrangements for your dog, Bandit. I was
told that you never go on any of your 'excursions' without him."
 "What does any of this have to do with Jessie? I don't care about your
setbacks, I want some answers right now," Race fumed.
"I can't tell you any more I'm afraid. Please believe me when I tell you
that I understand your concern. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning at
8:00am. Please come. She needs you." With that he cut out.
        "Well," Race said. "Looks like I'm going to the Big Apple for a
visit."
"You mean we're going," Benton corrected firmly.
"Benton there's no reason for you to come, this involves Jessie, not one
of the boys."
"Nonsense, Race. I've sat by and watched you save my sons time after
time. Jessie is just as much a component of my family as either of the
boys or, for that matter, you. She's a vital part of each of us and if
there was something I could do to help her and didn't, well, I'd never
forgive myself. Besides, O'Brien bought two tickets and went to all of
the trouble to make
arrangements for Bandit when he probably knows that we have my Lear jet,
the Dragonfly. It would be pointless to let one of them go to waste like
that."
"I guess you've got me there, Benton," Race said, breaking into a wide
faced grin. "I've been meaning to visit her anyway."
********
   November 20,11:12am

         Rubbing her eyes, Jessica tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a
yawn. She and twenty hour days just didn't click. At this point her
internal clock was so messed up she didn't know if it was day or night,
just that it was time for bed. She had been working for her kidnappers
for seven days already and still hadn't gotten even close to getting
into the program. While on the
one side she was happy that sludge that had brought her there still
didn't have what they wanted, pride made her angry at her inability to
complete the task. With her skills she should have been able to break
into the file within hours upon starting. It was incredibly frustrating
for her.
         So far her captors had been relatively kind and hadn't treated
her too badly. They provided her with decent food, usable clothing,
adequate sleeping accommodations, and had givenher bathroom breaks to
boot. Just because things had been okay so far didn't mean they were
going to continue to be that way. When the men keeping her there figured
out that she didn't have the
faintest idea of how to get into the program things could get ugly. They
might decide to find out exactly what she knew about Alphaomega and
their tactics might not be the most pleasant, to say the least. If
anyone would know about the ins and outs of this specific project, it
would be her.
        They would ask nicely first. When she refused to tell them, it
would come, the torturing and
beating. She shuddered to think about it, but as Hadji said there was
nothing to be done about
the future except to wait and see what happens.
         Jessica pushed her chair away from the desktop and weakly stood
up. More and more oftenthese days she was almost too tired to stand
after working. Jessica turned and walked over to the door where ten
guards stood watch. The guards had never been anything but congenial
toward her. To most ten guards would seem a bit extreme. It was apparent
that her father's reputation had made its way to their ears, making them
extra cautious. She rapped on the door, letting them
know she was ready to leave. The door opened allowing her to step out
and begin walking. Her attendants filed in behind and followed. As much
as she loved her father, he drove her bonkers.
          Race Bannon was a former covert operations expert and now a
permanent bodyguard for the now "retired" scientist Dr. Benton Quest.
Over the course of his constantly active life he had managed to develop
an extensive reputation which Jessica constantly found herself trying to
break away from. Because of her last name people expected her to act
like her father and handle things in the same gung-ho manner. They
expected that she would be testy, quick-tempered, and technologically
naive. Even with all the assumptions they made before meeting her, they
always felt that because she was female she was incapable of defending
herself, something her father was especially known for. Even after she
had defended herself numerous times and saved hundreds of celebrities,
including several US Presidents, some still tried to coddle her. It felt
like she was always living in her father's shadow, with exceptions being
made for her on account of her sex. All of that rubbed Jessica the wrong
way and made her touchy. And a touchy Bannon is not the kind of person
you mess with.In this particular situation, though, it was too bad that
her current companions didn't think the same way.
         Her armed escort marched her down the hallway, four men on each
side with one in front and another in back. The whole fanfare made
Jessica feel like she was in a parade. In no time the small procession
had reached her temporary quarters. After opening the door the men
scattered to their positions except for one.
 "Here you are, Ms. Bannon. Your dinner will arrive shortly. A fully
equipped shower has been installed in the back. Also your heart
medication was delivered. If you need anything we will be right outside
the door. Sleep well," said the youngest guard, who went by the name of
Daniel. Ever since she had laid eyes on him, Jessica had liked the young
man. He was, in her
eyes, a baby of just twenty, barely an adult. Her maternal instincts
kicking into overdrive Jessica had "adopted" him and the two had quickly
bonded.
 "Thank you, Danny. I appreciate it." Jessica's thanks caused him to
blush before returning to his post. His use of Ms. and ma'am when
addressing her made her feel all that much older than him.
"Danny?" she added after a moment of thought.
"Yes, ma'am?" he said as he rotated back to face her.
 "When was the last time you saw your family?"
"Not for a long while, I'm afraid."
"Well, how 'bout if we have a friendly discussion about families after
dinner? I'll tell you about my messed up one and you can fill me in on
the joys of having a normal childhood."
"I don't know if I'm supposed to...," he started, protesting.
 "Ask a superior. Tell them that I'm not being intellectually stimulated
enough and am getting bored. I need someone to discuss adult matters
with and as of now we are going to begin conversing regularly. The big
words alone should confuse them into saying yes and if they don't then
I'll go tell them to go jump off a bridge. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am," the boy replied happily as he returned to his post.
Jessica smiled back at him and headed off to take a well-deserved
shower.
*******
      2:34pm

         Bryne put down his copy of the entry specs and began to rub his
temples. His head was pounding so loudly that he could hardly
concentrate over the noise. He knew he needed to get some sleep before
he left Sir Lanka to meet up with the others, but he was just to
worried. Jessica had been gone for seven days already and there was no
telling what they had done to her.
Bryne sighed. He knew that thinking like that would just make things
harder. Besides, whoever kidnapped her obviously needed her and they
most likely wouldn't hurt her. Bryne laid his head down on his hands and
quickly dozed off.
         He dreamed of the girl again. The two of them were standing in
the middle of a large open space of some sort. There was no light,
except for the spots where they were standing. She was as beautiful in
this dream as in all the others. Her red hair flew wildly around her
head and her emerald eyes glistened with tears. She wore a plain white
dress, the kind accused witches
wore when they were burned at the stake. Her face was riddled with fear
and anger. She turned to him and cried out a warning, but he couldn't
hear her voice. She kept shouting and shouting.
        Bryne turned to see if anyone was behind him, but there was
nothing there. A scream pierced the quiet and he spun toward the sound
only to come face to face with a man. The man was slightly shorter than
Bryne and the woman. His eyes were so dark they were almost black and
his hair was almost as dark as Bryne's, but his was short cropped and
slicked back. In his hand was a knife, dripping blood. It took Bryne's
mind a second to register and make the connection between the two.
         "NOOOO!" he shouted as he hurled himself at the man. Ripping
the knife from the hand he began to pummel the man as he lay on the
ground. In only seconds the man was bleeding profusely from his mouth,
nose, and numerous cuts and scrapes lining his body. Bryne momentarily
stopped hitting the man and grabbed him by the throat. For a moment he
just sat there, trying to steady his breathing and slow his pumping
heart when he realized he was bleeding, also. He reached up and touched
his swollen face, never remembering being hit.
 "We three are bound," the man said through his cracked, swollen lips.
"What do you mean?" Bryne yelled at the man. When he didn't reply Bryne
began shouting. "Answerme, damn you!" The man still said nothing. Bryne
turned his head away from the man underneath him only to catch sight of
the limp form by his side. He jumped up and ran over to the body. It
took an eternity for him to reach her, but finally, he did. He knelt
down and cradled the woman's head in his arms as he tried not to look at
the growing bloodstain on her dress. She looked up athim, her eyes
placid. He watched her chest rise and fall with shallow, uneven breaths.

 "You came back for me," she whispered.
"Of course," he answered automatically. He was no longer in control of
his actions and reactions,
he had become a mere observer from within his own body.
"Is Montigue dead?"
"Yes. I killed him."
"Why?"
"For you. I love you."
"I know, because I love you too," she said weakly. She leaned her head
against his chest and breathed deeply, at peace with the world. She
reached up and kissed him passionately one last time. She groaned once
more and with a shudder fell limp against his body.
 "Please god," he said, speaking into her hair as he sobbed. "No!"
        "NO!" he shouted, waking himself.
 *What a dream.* he thought uncomfortably. There was something about the
woman, something very familiar. Drowsily he picked up his head and shook
it, trying to clear the ringing sound from his ears. The sound
persisted. *That's not my ears!* he realized with a start. Bryne
scrambled up, quickly moving toward the phone. *Don't hang up, don't
hang up!* he prayed. Bryne sprinted over and dove for the phone, sliding
across the kitchenette's floor and onto his belly. Rolling over
to his back, he brought the extension to his ear.
 "Hello," he said into the receiver.
"Raven?"
"Yup."
"Docks at 1700. Bring everything and come dressed to kill. We ship out
with, or without, you." With that, the phone went dead in his hands.
******
     7:20pm

         "Hurry up, Benton, we're going to be late," Race called over
his older companion. He scooped down and grabbed their baggage from the
carrousel in the middle of the room. Flinging it onto the provided
carrier he turned and looked for his friend. If they didn't hurry they
were going to miss the rendezvous with O'Brien.
 "Calm down Race. According to my watch we're right on schedule." Benton
noticed himself trying to relax Race more and more as they got closer to
Vertutech. This couldn't be good for his friend's blood pressure. "Look,
there's the liaison now," he finished pointing in the representative's
direction and waving. The other spotted them and hurried over.
         Breathing hard he started, "I'm Joshua Peirce, the Vertutech
representative. Regretfully, Chief O'Brien couldn't be here to meet you
so I was sent to bring you to our building on 1st avenue in the Wall
Street district. Right this way please." He made a beckoning motion with
his right hand and began to move. In no time the group had reached the
company car, a gray
Cadillac. The man opened the door and ushered the two inside, or, at
least, that's what he tried to do. Race stepped between Benton and the
man and looked down at him, his blues glittering.
         "How do we know you're really who you say you are? There have
been a lot of people, far smarter and more fit than you, who've pulled
more elaborate stunts than this to kidnap the Doc over here," he said,
jacking his thumb in Benton's direction. "It's never worked so far and
I'm not about to let it start now. How 'bout giving me some proof, a
reason of some sort to believe
you?" Race titled his head to the side arrogantly and stuck out his jaw,
daring the other man to pull something.
 "Very well," Mr. Peirce replied resolutely. Reaching into the car he
tapped the driver
on the shoulder and stuck out his hand. The driver opened the glove
compartment and extracted
a small box, which he distributed into the waiting hand. Peirce in turn
handed the parcel to Race.
"Open it," he directed. Race, for once, did as he was told and removed
the lid from the box.
Benton leaned over and the two peered into the container. Race gasped
and almost dropped the
small package.
         Inside was the necklace he and the Quest's had given to Jessica
on her 16th birthday as a combined present. On it were four small
stones. Each stood for a quality about her that they either loved or
thought she needed work on and was cylindrically cut. From Hadji was a
sky blue stone to represent wisdom and peace, Benton's was indian brown
(reddish brown) and stood for thought and reason, Race's was emerald and
symbolized compassion and patience, and lastly Jonny's was blood red and
showed her internal fire and love for life. Since the day it was given
to her she had never taken it off. "We found it in an alley two blocks
away from her apartment. Now do understand why we need to move as
quickly as possible?" Race nodded dumbly
 and felt Benton help him into the car. He no longer cared who was
waiting for them or what they had planned, he just had to find out what
was happening to his Ponchita.
**********
     November 21,5:30am

         "Hello?" sleepily questioned a young man as he answered his
hologrid. The man was twenty-six, had blond hair, and a sleepy set of
sky blue eyes.
"Hey, Jonny," said Race. His frustration was clearly portrayed in his
voice.
"What the? Race do you have any idea what time it is here? It's..." he
paused as he looked over at the nearby clock. "12:30 in the morning.
Some idiot better have a nuclear device and be threatening to blow up
the country or I'm gunna...."
"Jonny," interrupted a groggy female voice from the background. "Who's
that on the 'grid?"
"Uh, just one of my friends," he answered, praying she would go back to
bed without pursuing the conversation any farther.
"At twelve in the morning?" she countered, doubtfully. The woman sounded
much more awake than she had a moment ago. Seconds later a beautiful
female appeared next to Jonny. Her dark brown hair was mussed and her
eyes were still slightly unfocused as they continued to adjust to the
faint light given off by the hologrid.
          "Uh, Race, this is my fiancée, Sarah Worthington. Sarah, this
is Race Bannon, my dad's bodyguard and long time family friend," Jonny
said awkwardly. This was not how he had pictured making introductions.
Sarah nodded politely at the still young looking white haired man on the
screen. Race in turn smiled back at the woman before returning to the
situation at hand.
"Sorry ma'am, but this couldn't wait 'till morning. John, I need you to
fly out here to Jess' apartment and meet me at 3:15pm. A lot's happened
recently here. Something's about to go down and Benton and I can't
handle it alone. Vertutech security already arranged a flight for you,
#698 on American Air. It leaves at 5:15am. I'll explain the rest when
you get here." Jonny nodded
soberly.
         "How bad?"
"Bad. I don't know about Benton, but personally I don't trust these
Vertutech guys any further than I can throw them. We're going to need
someone that we can trust indefinitely when this thing gets sticky, not
that it's not now. There's a possibility that we may not be coming out
this time, Jonny." Jonny nodded grimly at his friend.
"I don't have any idea what the two of you are talking about but I do
know you're planning to do something crazy. You, Jonathan Quest, are
even dumber than you look if you think for even a moment that I'm going
to let you go off somewhere that you might never came back from without
me. I suggest that you, Mr. Bannon, arrange another ticket because there
is no way bleach head over here is leaving without me," she stated
firmly.
 "Sarah you have no idea what you're getting into. Our family,
'excursions', have a
tendency to be practically suicidal. I...."
        "I know that. Do you honestly think I could have spent this much
time with you, agreed to marry you, without getting a feel for your life
style. Face it Jonny, you're a danger magnet," she said. Jonny's face
clouded over and he took on a sullen look. Seeing this she leaned over
and whispered something else. A surprised look crossed Jonny's face but
was quickly replaced by a sappy grin.
"We'll be there Race. Dig up another ticket for Sarah and have it
waiting at the airport. Now if you'll excuse us Race, we've got some,
ah, business to attend to," he said grinning devilishly at Sarah. "See
ya!" he said hanging up.
*******
           7:15am

         Jessica rolled over on her cot and look at the nearby alarm
clock. *Isn't that the same time it had when I went to bed?* she thought
groggily. Jessica closed her eyes and rolled away from the door with the
intention of going back to sleep. She was just dozing off when a faint
creaking sound came from behind her. She quickly turned and threw the
covers back.
     Slowly she sat up and eased off the bed, all the while listening.
She barely moved as silently tiptoed over to the door and crouched
behind it. Her head was cloudy with sleep and concentrating was hard,
but she forced herself to stay awake and semi alert. An almost
undetectable thudding came from the outside followed by a slight groan.
Seconds later,
she heard nine other thuds. All ten guards had been knocked out, maybe
even killed, without ever getting a shot off. The creaking sound resumed
as the intruder continued onto her room over the linoleum floor.
         The soft, padding steps caused Jessica's head to abruptly snap
up. As of that instant she was completely awake. Battle training
surfacing Jessica flattened her body to the wall making herself as
unnoticeable as possible. As an afterthought she grabbed the broken
alarm clock and prepared to defend herself. She stood there in the dark
waiting for some unseen evil
to come, ready to avenge the death of her young friend, Danny.
Jessica's eyes narrowed to slits, allowing her to see better in the
darkness. Before her eyes the doorknob slowly turned, squeaking the
entire time, and the door opened just enough to
reveal a tiny sliver of light.
********




BAHAHA!!! Yes, I did it! Half an hour of proofing and reformatting, but
I'm finally done. If this doesnt' get through, everybody had better give
me my space. I'm definately at the end of my rope.
Please, send emails regarding the fic, reading should help calm my
nerves.

curtin@fcc.net


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