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Irate Knight
by Asp

 
        "Ladies and Gentlemen, this means that the United Stares of America will provide every assistance in reducing the risk the IRA brings.  From small military aid to the cash flow out of our country to this organization.  This is our pledge to you, and as a new administration we will have at least four years to assist you.  Thank you."
        The roar of applause from the British Parliament House made Secretary Of State Shirley Johnstone smile.  This program was hers from the start.  The IRA had been a thorn in the side of the Brits and the States for too long.  They were terrorists, and this administration was going to treat them as such.
        After another hour of discussion in the house, the speaker called the day and everyone wandered to the lobbies to mingle and conference.  at 5'10, 42, auburn haired and beautiful, the Sec State stood out in the crowd of predominantly men.  She was used to having men stare at her, but it disturbed her in this setting of distinguished gentlemen.  She found herself talking to one, "the new plan involves the Justice Department, treasury and the Federal Bureau Of Investigation, with most of our intelligence coming from the National Security Agency.  The whole plan is headed up by the FBI and Assistant Director Charles Wallyburton."  The man thanked her for the information and excused himself. 'Strange' Shirley thought, that he hadn't introduced himself.
 

*

        "Michael, we're getting a call from Devon."
        "Can you hold him off until after the competition?"  The driver of the not so gleaming black T-top asked.
        "I'll do my best, after all I know we don't want Bonnie finding out what you're doing to me."
        "You got it Pal, Ugh..." As they hit another car, "Ha, one more down and only two left."
        "Really Michael, it is rather unfair to be entered in a crash up derby.  I still don't know how you talked me into this."
        "Easy, Buddy, we both needed some stress relief after that last assignment."
        "True, Michael.  Watch out for these two, they're trying to sandwich us."
        "Ha ha Kitt," Michael's laughter lifted Kitt's spirits.  He hadn't laughed much since his face was cut by a woman he had slept with during their last assignment.  Seventeen stitches down the right side of his face from temple to chin leaving him horribly scarred.  The stitches came out the day before.  And now, here they were in the barest form of road rage.  Michael broke Kitt's thought by turbo boosting over one of the opposing cars to smash into the next.
        "One left Kitt.  By the way, what did you tell Devon?" The driver asked as he careened around a wreck heading straight at the last car moving.
        "I told him you were indisposed in the bathroom.  I don't think he believed me."
        CRASH!
`       "Yhoo, we did it Pal, we won!"  They had just clipped the last car in the rear left wheel, disabling it.
        "Michael, I think we'd better not stay to claim our prize."  All the other drivers were gathering together, glaring at the car that had won without a scratch on it.
        "Okay, Kitt.  I feel a little better now anyway.  Patch Devon through now will you."
        "Ahh, Michael there you are. I've been trying to reach you."
        "What's up Devon?"
        "I need you to visit an old, if you'll excuse the phrase, friend of ours.  He's requested a meeting with you.  You're still in New York State?"
        "Yup, who am I meeting?"  The suspense was killing both partners.
        "Assistant Director of the FBI Charles Wallyburton." Devon was already smiling at the reaction.
        "'Just call me Chuck?' Please no, not him again.  I hated being called 'Little Buddy'."  Kitt was obviously not going to enjoy this one.
        "He's come a long way from agent to A.D. in only ten years Devon.  How'd he do it?"
        "Charles has a remarkable record in the anti-terrorist section.  Breaking more cases than any other agent.  He is quite capable Michael."
        "Or very lucky.  Okay Devon, we're on our way.  Let him know ETA three hours."
        "Michael," Kitt chimed in, "We can be there in half that time."
        "I know Kitt. But lets call it additional preparation time."
 

*

 
        He had been here before of course, but even still, the J. Edgar Hoover building both awed him and renewed the sense of freedom he cherished with the Foundation.  Walking up to the visitor's desk, Michael showed his ID and was immediately led to Charles Wallyburton.

        "Michael, glad to see you.  Can I get you a coffee or anything?  And how are you Kitt?"
        Both partners were caught off guard.  The look and the voice were the same, but gone were the rough mannerisms.
        "Coffee.  Thanks Charles."
        "Please, call me Chuck.  Charles just sounds way too formal," whispering conspiratorially he continued, "I hate it, nobody calls me anything but formal names in here."  Back to a regular tone, "But Michael, Kitt, we're old friends.  What was it, ten years ago since Kitt ejected me?  Damn, that was funny, and I guess I deserved it."  Looking at the fresh scar on Michael's face, the lines around his eyes, he said, "Michael, you're looking pretty rough friend.  That scar's a good one.  A woman?"
        "Yeah, a damn fine woman with a damn fine blade.  The stitches just came out recently."  Michael winced at rehashing the events of his face.  "So Chuck, you've got hundreds of agents at your disposal, what do you need us for?"  Down to business and get the hell out of here.  Michael was not happy, this was not what he had expected.  He was starting to like this man across the desk from him.
        "Actually Michael, it wasn't me who put in the request for you and Kitt.  Personally I think the members of my team could handle this better.  But, even as an A. D. I'm still just a puppet on a string.  As you may, or may not know, I'm heading the joint anti-terrorist task force, and the power behind this task force is Secretary of State, Shirley Johnstone.  Well, Ms. Johnstone has not been all that well received by the Irish community both here and abroad for her harsh views on the I.R.A..  She has been receiving threat letters from alleged IRA radicals and our analysts feel that the threat is real. She said she wanted the best, she said that she wanted you and your miracle car"
        "Is your team tracking down the radicals?  I don't want to end up in a position as personal bodyguard for the rest of my career."
        "We should have this whole thing taken care of within a month."  The smile from Chuck with that statement unsettled Michael somewhat, but he couldn't figure out why.
 
 

        Walking towards the car, Kitt could tell something was bothering his partner.  "What is it Michael, what's wrong?"
        "Nothing Kitt, just something he said and how he said it kinda unnerved me.  Probably just the fact that he was not what either of us remember.  I know people change, but Geez."
        "Where to Michael?"
        "1600 Pennsylvania Ave."  Michael said smiling.  He had never been there before.
        "The White House.  My but we are moving up in the world."
 

        Upon entering the White House and showing his Foundation credentials Michael was led to the Secretary of State's outer office, where he had to wait several minutes.
        "Michael," Kitt spoke softly over the comlink.
        "Yeah Kitt."
        "Michael, are you all right?  My sensors indicate your heart rate is well above normal and your body temperature is increasing as well."
        "Well Kitt, that would explain the sweaty palms.  Yeah, I'm okay, just nervous as hell."
        "Mr. Knight, Secretary of State Johnstone will see you now."
 

        The office was decorated in bold hunter green and deep burgundy shades, elegantly done, making the office seem small and cozy.  Large mahogany desk with dark green leather chairs occupied the center of the room.  Sitting on the edge of the desk when he walked in, the stunning tall auburn haired woman started toward him.  "Welcome Mr. Knight, and thank you for coming."  The elegant smile and strong handshake pulled Michael from his reverie.
        "Glad to come.  Beautiful office."
        Sitting on the sofa in the back corner, a tea service was brought out and tea served.
        "Well Ms. Johnstone, what can FLAG do for you?"
        "Please, call me Shirley.  Michael, I have received a great deal of threats since I came back from England from IRA supporters, to foot soldiers, plus a few other crackpots thrown in.  The Secret Service is stretched thin, and while the FBI claims they can protect me, I don't trust them."
        Over the comlink Kitt was heard to say, "but Ms. Johnstone, the Federal Bureau of Investigation is one of the most respected law enforcement institutions in the world.  Why would you not trust them?"
        Pointing at Michael's wrist watch she asked, "your car?"
        "My car, my partner, my friend.  And sometimes, my only link to sanity in an unreal world."
        "Thank you Michael."  Kitt's tone said he was touched by the words.
        "For both your information, and to answer your question Kitt, I trust the organization, just perhaps not all of it's members.  Think about it.  The bureau has always had a predominately large Irish American population and I don't want to run the risk of my itinerary being leaked.  You have to understand Michael, I can't be held back.  I have to keep working.  Keep fighting.  Even at the cost of becoming an easier target for them.  I'm a soft target.  I know it, but I have to keep pushing.  The other reason I wanted you two, against Charles Wallyburton's advice, is that I want only the best around me, protecting me.  Making me a hard target.  Everyone who knows of you two say you're it."
        "Thank you for your honesty, now it's time for some of mine.  I just don't know how protected we can keep you, or for how long.  Of course we'll help, and we'll do our best."  Flashing his devilishly handsome smile, Michael forgot the way his new scar made it look.
        "That's quite the scar you have Michael,"  Running her finger along the jagged length of it.  "How did you get it, if you don't mind my asking?"
        "A woman.  I was on an assignment and a woman needed help.  I woke up one morning with her above me about to stab my face.  I turned and caught her hand but she still did some damage, obviously."  The rage in his eyes glowed hotly and the scar went from pink to white.
        "I'm sorry Michael," putting her hand on his shoulder, letting herself feel his presence.  This was a man who intrigued her.  At 6'4" she had to actually look up at him, curly shoulder length dark hair with flecks of gray, handsome face with a strong jaw that the scar, when it wasn't quite so raw, would probably complement.  And the physique.  Solid broad shoulders and chest tapering into a fine waist for a man his size and long trim legs.  Oh, she was going to enjoy this.  Removing her hand, "if it's any consolation, I kind of like the scar.  I think it suits somebody in your profession."
        Michael was feeling a little uncomfortable and yet very interested.  This woman, that he didn't have to slouch for, made him feel so different.  First she brings forth all of his new anxieties about the scar and then slams them down.  "We're going to start by doing some research.  You're safe in here.  God, if you're not safe in The White House, you're not safe anywhere."
        "Yes, I'll be safe here, but I would like you shadowing me closely whenever I'm not here."
        "Of course."
        "By the way, do you carry?"
        "A firearm, no.  I don't believe in them.  I have other ways."
        With a curious look, "okay, here are copies of all the threats and the likes.  If you need the originals, AD Wallyburton has them at the Bureau."
        "Great," handing her his card he said, "give me a call on this number about a half hour before you're ready to leave and I'll be here."
        Exiting her office Michael called Kitt, "meet me by the doors buddy?"
        "Of course Michael."
 

        Five minutes later he was able to relax for the first time in over an hour.  He could still feel her index finger trail the length of the scar.  It caused a shiver.
        "Are you cold Michael?"
        "Huh?  No, Kitt.  Let's go.  Where's the Mobile Unit?"
        "In Virginia right now.  We can meet it in under two hours."
        "Good partner, let's go."
 
 
 

        Pulling up the ramp of the black transport they stopped in the service bay.  Instruments of all kinds littered the walls, floor, ceiling, every available space.  In the center of it all, with a look of consternation her face, stood Bonnie in her white technicians coveralls.  As soon as Michael stepped out of the car she broke.  Walking up to him, she gave him a well needed hug.  They were family and she knew the hurt he must be feeling.  Releasing him she stroked Kitt's hood.  "So, how are my two boys doing?"
        Laughing Michael said, "not bad, I've been both better and worse, but I'm looking forward to this case.  It intrigues me.  Speaking of which, can you guys analyze these?"  Reaching through the open window he grabbed the thick file.  "I need to know which are the most sincere.  Instead of just waiting for something to happen, let's try to nail them before they get the chance."
        "I'll get started on it right away.  Let me just give Kitt a quick check over."  Going to one of the display screens she started punching keys, looking intently at the results on the screen.  "The laser is out of alignment.  The only way that could happen Michael, is with repeated impacts on the front corners.  What has he been putting you through Kitt?"
        "Nothing out of the ordinary, Bonnie.  Just business as usual," Kitt said innocently.
        "Kitt," Bonnie laughed, "you are a terrible liar.  The laser calibration can wait until we have more time.  You two better get going.  It will still take you an hour to get back to The White House."
        "Thanks Bonnie."  With that he got back into his car, hit reverse, backed down the ramp in neutral, and timing it perfectly stuck the car in drive and squealed past the transport heading for Washington.
 

*
 

        "What do you mean you won't have her schedule!"  The thick Irish voice was obviously not happy.
        "She's not using our services, she's gone with an independent.  His name is Michael Knight, he's with an organization called the Foundation for Law And Government.  All I can recommend is that you hit her before Knight and his car get onto the scene."
        "What does his car have to do with it?"
        "It's apparently bulletproof and it's completely computerized.  It's like a crime lab on wheels.  It's just better not to tangle with them."
        "Don't worry.  If we have to, we'll deal with them as well.  You just focus on getting us her itinerary, we'll focus on the rest."  With that the line went dead.  With a shake of his head Charles Wallyburton replaced the receiver of his office phone.
        Picking it up again he pressed one of the speed dial buttons.  "Hello, Devon?"
 

*
 

        Returning to the White House, Michael and Kitt waited in the employee parking lot.  Mostly deserted now with only a few stragglers left, they were able to park right next to their clients' car.
        "Here she comes Kitt, keep your scanners peeled."
        "Michael, we are on the White House grounds.  Wait, I'm picking up an explosive device connected to Ms. Johnstone's ignition system.  Very complex.  I'm afraid I can't disarm it, and there seem to be a number of triggers, both booby traps and remotes."
        "And so it begins."  Burning rubber Michael accelerated toward Shirley.  The Marine guard escorting her pulled his gun, ready to fire at the driver of the approaching car.  Pulling up beside them Kitt opened the passenger door.  "Shirley, you might want to leave your car here for now."  Michael stated.
        "It's okay Jim," she said to the guard.  "This is my protection."  Getting in the offered door she said to Michael, "you just about got yourself shot.  You almost gave poor Jim a heart attack."
        "Sorry about that, but Kitt found a bomb in your car and we couldn't risk you getting too close to it.  Kitt, how large of an explosion will this create?"
        "The device is connected to the fuel line, causing the tank to explode as well.  The tank is one third full..."
        "Kitt, how big?!"
        "Approximately a fifty foot radius.  Really Michael, I was about to tell you if you would just be patient."
        "You were just showing off for our client, Kitt."
 
 

*

        Shirley would have been laughing if it weren't for the fact that they were talking about her 1986 BMW 325 coupe.  She'd had that car since brand new and loved it dearly.  Now they were talking about how large a hole it was going to make.  "What are you two clowns going to do about my car?"
        "Unfortunately Shirley, the only safe thing to do is detonate the bomb.  You see, there's a remote trigger that will likely be set off as soon as the bomb squad arrives.  People would die, and we cannot let that happen.  Kitt, can you get a detailed design plan and forward it to Bonnie.  Let's see if she can come up with a match on designs to see who we're dealing with."
        "Right away Michael.  The area is clear now.  Shall I detonate the device?"
        "Shouldn't we move farther away?" Shirley asked, noting they were barely fifty feet away.
        "Don't worry, we'll be fine.  Kitt, notify the Fire Department, Police, and White House Security first."
        "Already done Michael"
        With a mischievous grin towards Shirley, he said, "then let the fireworks begin."
        Outside the car there was stillness for two seconds.  Then the pigeons and gulls on the surrounding lawns lifted off in a rush, the windows on the black T-Top went pitch black.  All sound was engulfed by the roar, all light swallowed by the white fireball that rose and spread from the disintegrating BMW, surrounding Kitt and his passengers before there was silence and darkness once again.  The windows on the car went clear and screaming could be heard.
        Blinking his eyes and shaking his head to clear the ringing from Shirley's screaming, Michael barely heard Kitt's words, "I'm sorry Michael, I miscalculated the size of that explosion."
        Finally quiet and staring in disbelief at the crater that was once her car Shirley exclaimed, "miscalculated, my God, I've never seen anything like that before, nor do I ever want to again."
        Just then the sirens could be heard as the authorities started arriving, the rest of the night spent in explanations and reports.
 
 

        At five in the morning Michael dropped Shirley off at home to get some rest with a promise to pick her up at eleven.  "Let's head for the mobile unit Kitt.  See if Bonnie has anything for us on those designs."
        "Of course Michael.  Would you like me to drive?  You look like you need some rest as well."
        "Thanks Kitt."  With that, the car drove off while it's driver slept.
 
 

        "We're here Michael."  Kitt's voice woke him in an instant.
        "Thanks pal, I feel a little better now.  Okay Bonnie, have you got anything for us on that bomb?"  Stepping out of the car Michael realized just how tired he was.
        "I don't have anything solid yet, but I'm going to have to give Kitt a good look over, then I can get back to it.  Why don't you go up to the bunk room and get some sleep."
        "Yeah, I get the feeling I'm going to need it."  He departed through the front door leaving Bonnie with her baby.
        Starting with the nearest console Bonnie said, "well Kitt, tell me about that explosion."
        "It wasn't quite like any explosion I've seen before, Bonnie.  It was larger than I estimated and it vanished as quickly as it started."
        "Okay Kitt, any effects from it?"  With a look of concern she picked up a flashing wand and slowly began waving it around the car.
        "Nothing I've noticed.  Bonnie, why are you using a radiation detector?"
        "Well Kitt, what you described sounds like a Gamma radiation explosion.  Did you lock down?"
        "Of course Bonnie.  I couldn't take any chances with Ms. Johnstone inside."
        "Good.  Hmm, curious.  I'm finding traces of Gamma radiation, not enough to be harmful, but such that it would change the composition of the explosion.  You didn't pick up any radioactive material?"
        "No Bonnie. Well, actually there was Americium 243 in the car, which is radioactive."
        "But not known as a weapons grade material," Bonnie finished for him.
        "Bonnie, Americium 243 is found in almost all smoke detectors.  Does this mean that someone has found a way to turn it into a weapon?"
        "Looks that way.  Kitt, let's try focusing our design search to Gamma radiation weapons in the last five years."
        After a few minutes Kitt said, "Bonnie, I have found a similar design but no radiation was detected.  Responsibility for the device was claimed by an extreme military arm of the IRA.  Strange, they call themselves simply, The Movement."
        "I've found a couple of gamma weapons claimed by them as well."
        "So that's probably who we're up against," Michael said walking back in.
        "Michael, you should be sleeping.  If this is who you're up against, they're ruthless, dangerous and highly trained."  The worry on Bonnie's face was evident.
        "But also, if it is The Movement we're up against, then Shirley isn't safe at home with only a small police guard around her."  Michael said as he rushed to Kitt's driver's door.  Kitt already had the door open and was opening the ramp of the transport before Michael had sat down.  "Let's go Kitt."  Dropping out the back, Michael hit pursuit and they rapidly accelerated to 220 mph.  "Kitt, put a call through to Shirley."
        "I'm sorry Michael, the line seems dead."
        "Shit!" Michael exclaimed softly.  "How long Kitt?"  They were flying through the streets of D.C., Kitt changing lights ahead of them all the way.
        "Two minutes Michael."
        "Kitt, let's go in like gang busters, sirens, squad car sounds, the works."
        "Good idea Michael.  Maybe it will scare them off for now."
        "We can only hope buddy."  Seconds later Kitt started.  The noise was deafening.  The officers in the squad car outside Shirley's building both jumped out, guns drawn.  As Michael pulled up beside them he gave them their orders to go around back.  They had been instructed to listen to this towering man.  "Kitt, scan the building, anything?"
        With his scanner tracking madly Kitt scanned for everything, life signs, chemical compounds, radioactive materials.  "She's in her apartment Michael.  There are two men outside her door, both heavily armed and it appears they have primacord for the door.  You have at most five minutes to get her out Michael."
        Michael looked up at her balcony.  Five stories up.  "We haven't done this in a while pal, think we can do it?"
        "Of course Michael."  Kitt opened the sunroof and Michael climbed onto the seat.
        "Okay Kitt, let's do it."
        Pressure building under the ejection seat, Kitt released it.  Michael flew straight up in a perfect line to the balcony.  Misjudging his landing, Michael just barely grabbed hold of the balcony railing.  Hauling himself over, he slammed the sliding door open, breaking the small lock.  Shirley was about to yell when Michael put his index finger to his lips.  Whispering he asked, "is there another way out of here?"
        "Why?"
        "Because there are two men outside your front door who are about to blow it in, and if we're here, we're dead."
        Fear gripping at her, she could only stare at the door and say, "No."
        "Kitt, I'm sending Shirley over to you, catch her.  I'll follow right after."
        "Hurry Michael, they're setting the primacord now."  Kitt's voice was thick with concern for his partner.
        Pushing Shirley through the balcony door, Michael told her to jump over, Kitt would catch her.
        Incredulous, she refused.  "I can't do that!"  With a loud crash and bang the front door blew in.  Michael picked Shirley up and threw her over the railing.  Hiding behind the patio furniture he waited until one of the assailants came through the door.  Putting all of his adrenalin driven strength into it, he tackled the man.  Grabbing his arm Michael twisted it around his own slamming the man into the wall with a sickening crunch.  Not looking back, Michael jumped over the railing landing in Kitt's seat.  Settling down into position he gunned the engine and squealed off.
        Forgetting for the moment that he even had a passenger, she made him well aware by pummeling his right arm.  Screaming and crying at the same time she wailed, "I could have died.  You threw me off that balcony and didn't care!"
        Tired, exhausted and with little remaining patience he let Kitt take control.  "I did care, that's why I threw you of.  Seconds later those men came in.  I tackled one, I think I killed him, the other I never saw."
        "I'm sorry Michael. I've just never been so scared in my life.  I don't know what I would do if you weren't here.  Other than be dead."  Gathering herself together, "dammit, I'm stronger than this.  Stronger than those bastards.  I won't slow down and I won't pull back.  I'll use all of my resources to help you pull these guys down.  Did you find out anything about my car bomb?"
        Michael was amazed, he had known men to break at less.  "Ever hear of The Movement?"
        "Yes, a radical paramilitary wing of the IRA  Trained under the former Soviet KGB, then moved onto Hussein in Iraq.  Nasty bunch.  That's who's after me?  Glad I have you and Kitt around.  By the way Kitt, thanks for catching me after your partner discarded me in a heap."
        "My pleasure Ms. Johnstone.  Michael would not have thrown you over if he didn't know I would catch you."
        "I know, I just want to bug him a little."  Smiling mischievously she punched Michael in the arm.  A grunt of pain came from the driver.  Looking more closely she saw a hole in his jacket sleeve.
        Shifting himself out of his coat, Michael looked at the two holes in the leather sleeve.  "I liked this coat too.  Damn."  Rolling up the sleeve of his shirt he saw that the bullet had just grazed the side of his upper arm.  "Well, I may not have seen him, but he sure as hell saw me.  Must have had suppressed weapons.  Makes sense.  Shirley, can you open the glove box and hand me the first aid kit?  Kitt, how bad is it?"
        Before Kit could answer Shirley said, "It's bad enough that you should be taken to a hospital."
        "Kitt?"
        "You've lost several ounces of blood, the wound itself will need four stitches or staples.  Nothing that you can't take care of yourself Michael."
        "Thanks partner.  Shirley, hand me that cleaning pad.  Great, now that gun looking device."
        "Here, let me help.  Hold the wound together, I'll staple it."  With Michael gritting his teeth in pain and Shirley cringing they stapled the wound together.  Once all four staples were in Shirley put a large bandage over it.  "I guess this adds another scar to your collection?" The curiosity in her voice leaked through.
        Smiling at her he asked for the aspirin before continuing on, "a few, yeah.  After thirteen years with the Foundation I've received a few scars."
        "Where to Michael?"
        "I'm not sure Kitt.  Patch me through to Devon."
        "Of course."  Ten seconds later came the familiar, "Ah, Michael."
        "Devon, do we have any properties around here?"
        "Several actually.  What's wrong Michael?"  After filling him in on the details Devon asked,  "so you want fairly secluded, but close enough that the commute is tolerable.  Correct?"
        "Yup."
        "Kitt, take them to the ranch."
        "Excellent Devon."  Kitt's voice had a smile to it.
        "The ranch?  Thanks Devon,  I'll let Kitt fill us in on the way."
 
*

        "Okay pal, what's the ranch?"
        "The ranch is a small place the Foundation purchased three years ago as a retreat for its executives, Michael.  From my data on it, it appears quite modest."
        "Take me to my office first?"  Shirley hadn't spoken in quite a while.  "I need to let them know I won't be in until Monday.  I can do the work I have now through the computer, but Monday I have several pressing engagements.  Will that make your life easier to protect me?"
        "Sure, I'll arrange for Bonnie to meet us there with the mobile unit, and we can all put our heads together to try to figure our next move."  Michael didn't notice the disappointment on Shirley's face.

        Two hours later they pulled in behind the black transport.  The long driveway lined on both sides with pristine white fencing with dozens of horses behind awed all three.  Exiting the car Michael & Shirley exchanged glances.  "Modest indeed!"  Michael laughed.  The sprawling ranch bungalow looked to be about four thousand square feet.  Bonnie came out the double front door to greet them.  Shaking Shirley's hand she led them inside.  Elegantly decorated with classic original paintings throughout Michael and Shirley couldn't help but laugh.
        "If this is what your Foundation calls modest," Shirley said, "I can't wait to see extravagant."

        After dinner, they all sat in the living room by the fire place discussing where to go next on the case.  Shirley kept glancing at Michael, and he couldn't help but smile at her.  He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't have the thoughts, but they were there, and they wouldn't go away.  He was finding it hard to concentrate.  "What bothers me is how they knew you were home at that time, unless they had your building staked out.  You would normally be at work, and I know they didn't follow us, Kitt would have detected them."
        "Michael, are you saying someone is leaking information?" Bonnie asked.  "Who?  Who would know. As far as I know, we're the only ones with the knowledge, except for Devon."
        "Yeah, and that means there's no leak.  It just frustrates the hell out of me.  How did they know?  From now on, Kitt's gonna have to scan all areas we go into for what might be a surveillance team.  I just don't know.  Let's sleep on it, and maybe we can come up with something tomorrow.  It's been a long day, and I'm having trouble focusing.  Good night."  With that he went to his room, leaving Bonnie and Shirley together.
        "He's quite a remarkable man," Shirley said.  "Quite the incredible partner he has too."
        "Thank you. Kitt is my creation, but he is definitely Michael's.  Sometimes Kitt acts a little too much like Michael, but I guess that's what happens when partners are together as long as those two have been."  Bonnie looked a little more closely at Shirley.  "You like him don't you?"  Noticing the amazed look on Shirley's face she added, "no, I can't read minds, but I can read facial expressions pretty well, and the way you look at him says it all.  I don't blame you.  I've thought about it more than once, but he's too much like family.  Just remember, he's been hurt badly recently by a woman, and I don't mean the wound on his face."
        At first Shirley had tried to refute, but as Bonnie continued she realized she was right, and she could trust this woman.  "What really happened?"
        "An old flame of his, one that had helped him to put away a nemesis several years ago, Cameron Zachary, called him with a serious problem.  I won't go into details about that part of it, but after a couple of weeks on the case, Michael was starting to think about leaving the Foundation and stay with her.  Then one night he woke up with her trying to kill him.  He ended up killing her in self defense, and I don't think he forgives himself for it.  It turned out that Zachary was behind it, which hurt Michael most of all.  Michael went after him, and probably would have killed him too if he hadn't disappeared.  Nothing will save Zachary if Michael ever finds him."  Putting down the snifter, Bonnie stood.  "And with that little bedtime story, I'm off to bed.  Good night Shirley.  Michael is a good man.  He and Kitt will do everything they can to help you and protect you."
        Left alone in the sitting room, Shirley slowly sipped at her bourbon watching the fire.  She had heard of Zachary of course.  A legend in his own time.  Arms smuggling, terrorism, you name it, he had his hands in it.  Finishing off her drink she walked down the hall, pausing at Michael's door with her hand on the doorknob.  Deciding against it she went to her room, undressed and went to bed with disturbed thoughts.
 

        "Devon, I haven't heard from Ms. Johnstone in a while, and wondered if you could let me know where she is.  I have an urgent message for her."
        "Of course Charles.  If you let me know what the message is, I'll forward it to her immediately."
        "Sorry old buddy, it's strictly confidential.  Maybe you can get her to give me a call first thing in the morning?"
        "I'll relay the message to her.  Good night Charles."
        "Good night Devon."  Putting down the receiver he cursed the Englishman.  What the hell?!  He was an Assistant Director of the FBI and he was being kept out of the loop.  Pressing the intercom button to his assistant he said, "Casey, when Secretary of State Johnstone calls tomorrow morning, I need the call traced"
        "Yes sir.  Anything else sir?"
        "No Casey, go home and have a good night."  Releasing the intercom Charles looked out his office window at the cityscape around him and prayed silently that the call could be traced.
 

        "Good morning Michael.  What do you think of our little ranch?"
        Sitting at the breakfast table with Bonnie and Shirley, Michael said into the speaker phone with a smile towards Shirley, "it really is quite modest, isn't it."
        "Yes, quite.  Is Ms. Johnstone there?"
        "I'm here."
        "Charles Wallyburton asked me to relay a message to you that there is some important classified information he needs to share with you, if you could give him a call."
        "I'll call him right after this."
        "Let me know if you need anything out there Michael."
        "Will do Devon."  With that Michael disconnected the call.
        "Is there a secure phone here I can use?"
        Bonnie answered, "Right in the office down the hall.  It's scrambled using the same equipment the Bureau does."
        "Wonderful, thank you."  Shirley got up and headed into the office.
 

        "Ms. Johnstone is on line two sir."  Charles heard over the intercom.
        "Okay.  Casey, get the trace started right away."
        "Already on it sir.  The line is encrypted so they'll need at least five minutes."
        "No problem."  Picking up the receiver he said, "Good morning Ms. Johnstone."
        "Good morning Charles, I was told you have an urgent message for me?"
        "Yes ma'am."  With that, Charles went into detailed conversation about some of the problems that they had been having with the team.  Twenty minutes later he hung up.
        "Casey?"
        "Yes sir, I have both the number and the location for you sir."
        Smiling broadly he said, "great, bring them in for me, and Casey, this never happened."
        "Yes sir."
        Once she had brought them in Charles made a quick call giving out the information he had just received.
 

        "Michael?"  Unsure of herself, and feeling like a fool for it, Shirley walked into Michael's room where he was curled on his bed reading a book on terrorism.
        "Yeah, Shirley, come on in."
        "Thanks.  Michael, umm, can we go out to dinner tonight?  Just the two of us?"
        Smiling at her nervousness, Michael chuckled.
        "What's so funny?"
        "I thought I was supposed to be the one who was nervous when I asked you to dinner.  I saw a nice looking little restaurant on the way in.  How's that sound?
        "Great.  Seven o'clock?
        "See ya at seven."  As Shirley left Michael couldn't get back into the book.  His thoughts kept drifting back to Gina and Zachary.  He wasn't sure if he was ready for this, wasn't sure if it was right.  What the hell, he thought, it's only dinner.

        At seven the black T-top drove out the laneway.  Five minutes later, two dark vans pulled in.  Ten men total, ski masks on all of them and armed with suppressed sub machine guns, stormed the house.  Finding Bonnie alone with the driver of the rig, and no one else, the leader cursed loudly.  He shot the driver and pointed the gun at Bonnie.
        "What do you want?" she asked shakily.  She heard the accent in the man's voice and knew exactly what he wanted.
        "Where are they?!"
        "They've left.  They won't be back for several hours."  Looking down at the driver she saw that he was still alive.  "Let me help him.  You're going to just let him die?  No," her voice grew calm, "you're going to kill me as well."
        "No," the man said.  "You're more use to us alive.  Instead, you are going to be a message to your Michael Knight.  Lad's, have fun with her."
        Her eyes went wide with horror as the realization of what they were about to do set in.  "No!!" she screamed and tried to run away, falling suddenly with stabbing pain in her left calf.  Looking at the leg she saw that she had been shot.  Lying on the floor she fought for as long as she could, as hard as she could, but in the end, it was futile.  All ten men had their way with her.  She had passed out after the first three.  They slapped her hard until she woke up, and then started again, repeating the sequence every time she passed out until they were done.
        "Tell your Michael Knight that no one takes one of ours down without being repaid in kind.  None of you are safe. We've just allowed you to think you are."  With that they all left, leaving Bonnie in a heap in the hallway sobbing.

*

        Shirley and Michael had had a wonderful dinner and were looking forward to a nightcap with Bonnie.
        Pulling into the driveway of the ranch Kitt said, "Michael, other vehicles have been here, and I detect a dead person in the house."
        Racing to the house Michael ran through the already open door and found Bonnie in the fetal position in the hallway.  She looked unconscious.  Her clothes were torn, those that remained on her.  The rest were in a pile a few feet down the hall.  They had obviously been cut off of her.  "Oh my god! Bonnie?"  Touching her forehead the only response he got was a full body shiver.  "Bonnie, come on babe.  Kitt, how far is the nearest hospital?  Bonnie's hurt bad."  With a low voice he added, "she's been raped partner."
        "Michael, it would take an ambulance forty-five minutes to get Bonnie to the hospital.  We can make it in ten."
        "Shirley," seeing no reaction from the woman standing over him he yelled, "Shirley!  Get a robe, anything to cover her with.  Kitt, we'll be right out."  Shirley returned with the robe and wrapped it around Bonnie who kept flinching at every touch.  Michael gathered her into his arms while speaking soft, caring words.  To Shirley he said, "get in the back seat.  You've gotta come with us.  I can't leave you alone now."  Placing Bonnie in the passenger seat, Michael jumped and slid over the hood, getting into the car.  Kitt was already pulling out before the door was closed.
        "Give me all her vitals Kitt!"
        "Blood pressure is low, pulse weak, temperature is high, but she's stable Michael.  Who would do this to Bonnie, Michael?"
        Bonnie raised her head and said weakly, "The Movement.  They said I was a message for you."
        "It's okay Bonnie, don't worry about that now.  Just stay still, we'll be at the hospital soon."

        After arriving at the local hospital and getting Bonnie into the emergency ward Michael called Devon.
        "Michael, how are things going out there?"
        "Devon, Bonnie's been raped and beaten.  It was The Movement."
        "Dear God!  Why would they do that?  What kind of beasts are these?"
        "They told her she was a message for me.  Payback I guess for killing one of them."
        There was a disturbance on the Devon's end. "Who the hell are you?"  Michael saw Devon looking off to the side.  Devon raised his hands and a man appeared on the screen.  "Who I am isn't as important as what you are about to become, English."
        Michael was transfixed to the screen. "Devon!"
        "Ahh.  Mr. Knight I presume.  Your Mr. Miles here is another message to you.  Give us the woman."
        "Never you sick son of a bitch.  If you hurt him I'll..."
        "You'll what, travel thousands of miles to get me.  I'll be long gone.  This is a warning."  The man walked behind Devon and shot from point blank range into the backs of his knees, blowing off the kneecaps.
        "Noooo!"  Michael yelled as he watched his friend and mentor crumple to the floor.  Shock overwhelmed him, made him useless.  He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
        "Have a nice day."  The man said with his thick Irish accent.  The vid link went dead.
        "Kitt, get someone, anyone at the Foundation, let them know what happened.  Call the police there as well.  Maybe they'll get lucky."
        "Of course Michael, already done.  I have also called an ambulance to pick up Devon.  Michael, how are we going to stop these people?"
        "I don't know Kitt, I don't know."

        Walking stonily back into the hospital he saw Shirley sitting in the waiting room.  When she saw him she rose and came toward him.  "Michael, the doctor came out and said Bonnie will be fine, nothing broken, the bullet went right through the fleshy part of the calf, tearing muscle only.  The psychological damage may be severe though."
        "Devon's been shot." Michael hadn't even heard her.  His mind was a fog.
        "My god. No.  All of this just to get to me.  I'm so sorry Michael.  I'll call the team off, do whatever it takes to stop this madness."  Tears were flowing freely down her face.
         Looking her square in the face he wiped a tear from her eye saying, "no you won't.  Shirley, that won't stop it.  Sure, it might delay things a while, but more people will die, and these guys will have free rein.  Your team, and others like it are the only way this will stop."  With an angry glow, with rage that turned his scar white he continued, "and me.  I'm going to take out these bastards once and for all.  And I think I now know just where to start."
        "Michael, tell me."
        "Not yet.  If my hunch is correct, I want to play it out.  Kitt and I have arranged for twenty-four hour heavy police protection for Bonnie.  Use them.  Stay here with her and call me if anything changes.  I've gotta go."
        Walking out to Kitt he said, "get me Wallyburton, Kitt."
        Several seconds later he heard Chuck's familiar voice. "Michael, what can I do for you?"
        "Chuck, I need some of the originals of those threat letters to analyze the ink and paper.  Mind if I come by now to pick them up?"
        "Sure, I'll be here for another hour or so."
        "Great, see ya in a bit."  Michael disconnected.
        "Michael, why are we going to analyze the inks and papers?"
        "We're not buddy.  We're going to ask Chuck who he really works for and how to contact them."
        "Michael, you suspect him as the leak?"
        "He's the only one who could have found out where we were.  He has the resources to trace the call to the ranch when Shirley called him.  And, Devon would have given him information on the case if he had asked for it, which I'm willing to bet he did.  We have to stop by the ranch on the way."
        "Why Michael?"
        "Because Kitt... I need a gun, and there are some there.  I found them today while walking through the place."
        "Michael, you know the Foundation doesn't approve of them, but in this case, I think it's a good idea."

        Reaching the ranch, Michael ran in and went down to the basement where he had seen the armoury.  He grabbed a Browning 9mm, a box of hollow point ammunition and three clips.  Walking out he saw a holster for the small of the back.  Grabbing it he left, loading the gun on the way.  Clipping the holster to his belt he got into Kitt.  "Feels strange to be carrying again Kitt."
        "I can't say that I'm happy about it Michael, but extreme times call for extreme measures.  I've reprogrammed myself to be able to cause bodily harm to defend you."
        "I didn't know you could do that Kitt.  Thanks.  We're going to need every advantage we can get.  It's gonna be pretty hairy from here on pal.  You ready?"
        "Of course Michael.  After what they did to Bonnie and Devon, I've never been more ready.
        Twenty minutes later they pulled into the Hoover building parking lot.  Walking in the door he showed falsified FBI ID and walked around  the metal detectors, heading straight for Wallyburton's office.  Walking past the empty secretaries desk he walked into the office.
        Startled, Charles said, "Michael!"
        "Shut up Chuck," Michael responded acidly.  "What are they paying you, and for how long.  What, they give you a few busts, make your star rise so that they can use you more effectively?"
        Reaching for his desk drawer Charles asked, "what are you talking about?"
        Pulling the gun from behind his back he pointed it straight at Wallyburton's head.  "Don't!"
        Pulling his hand back and putting them both on his desk Charles said, "What do you want Knight?  Do you really think you can pull a gun on me and get away with it?  I'm an Assistant Director.  Your ass is going to be mine."
        "I don't think so Chuck.  How long have you been on The Movements payroll?"
        "What the hell makes you think I'm on the take?"
        "They paid a visit to where we were staying tonight.  Shirley and I weren't there, Bonnie was.  They raped her and beat her, and they killed another Foundation employee.  You're the only one who could have found out where we were."
        "What about Devon, he could have given the information out."  He was shaking now.
        "Yeah, he could have, if it wasn't for the fact that one of your Movement buddies hadn't blown his knees off.  Now you sick son of a bitch, talk or I swear to God, you'll have too many holes in you to plug up."
        "You shoot that thing in here, there's gonna be agents all over you."
        "Not likely.  See Kitt and I did our homework.  We know your office is soundproof.  And being this late, there aren't that many agents around.  Stop stalling and tell me what you know."
        "I don't know anything.  Besides, you haven't got what it takes to shoot me."
        "Guess again."  Michael aimed low and pulled the trigger.  The report was deafening in such a small area.  Charles Wallyburton was screaming in pain as blood began pouring from the hole in his shoe.  "Try another time.  I'll aim higher.  Now fucking tell me."
        "His name is Sean.  That's all I know."
        "How do you reach him?"
        "I'll give you his number.  It's a cell phone.  It's the only way I can reach him."
        "I've got a better idea.  You call him.  Arrange a meeting."
        "He won't see me.  Won't meet with me."  Panic was rising visibly in Wallyburton's face and voice.
        "He will.  When you tell him you've got Shirley and I."  Michael's smile scared Charles more than the gun did.  It was full of hate and malevolence.  "Now call him."
        Picking up the phone he tried dialing the switchboard.  "Hello?"
        "Chuck," said the voice of Kitt, "I really think you should do what Michael tells you.  I'm tapped into the system, and any calls inside the building from your office will be redirected to me."
        Hanging up the phone Wallyburton redialed.  This time an Irish voice answered.
        "Sean, I have Knight and Johnstone.  The fools came in here to get my help.  I need to meet with you to hand them over."
        "I'll have one of my men pick them up from you," Sean said.
        "No way.  I'm bringing these two to you personally.  And I expect a reward for this.  Fifty thousand dollars at the meeting.  Someplace quiet.  Yeah, yeah, that will do."  Hanging up Charles told Michael, "A farmhouse, here are the directions.  Day after tomorrow, two o'clock in the afternoon.  Michael, you're going into the lion's den, and I hope the lion kills you."
        "How do you think the rest of the inmates are going to feel about an Assistant Director of the FBI in their midst.  Oh, don't worry Charles, I'll make sure they know.  Kitt, you recorded all of our conversation?"
        "Of course Michael, and I edited out the gunshot.  I'll forward this to Internal affairs."
        "Thanks buddy.  Chuck, enjoy your stay in prison, for the rest of your life."  Michael turned around and walked out of the office.

*

        Walking into the hospital Michael once again saw Shirley.  She was on a pay phone talking intently.  Waving to Michael she would only be a second she quickly ended the conversation.  "Well Michael, Charles Wallyburton has been arrested for numerous charges including conspiracy to commit murder.  He'll spend the better part of his life behind bars.  The man arrested in L.A. for the attempted murder, that's how they're looking at it, committed suicide in the interrogation room.  Devon is in surgery to try to repair his knees.  Your Foundation is sparing no expense on his care."  Putting her arms around Michael to comfort him she said, "He's going to be okay.  From everything you've told me he's a very tough man.  He's going to fight and he is going to pull through."
        Holding her tight with tears in his eyes Michael said, "I know.  I just can't believe that these people would do this.  That they would stoop so low.  I mean, I know they do the knees of informants and drug dealers, but an innocent man.  Unarmed?  That's low.  When I meet with them in two days, I'm going to teach them just how low it is.  The son's of bitches are gonna pay.  Dearly."  The tears were flowing freely now and he was shaking with rage and frustration.
        "How's Bonnie?" he asked after disentangling himself from Shirley's embrace.
        "She's doing fine.  She's been asking for you.  I've arranged that we can stay even though visiting hours are long over."  Leading him down the hall to Bonnie's room, she paused outside, "Go see her."
 
        Stepping in he looked at the woman lying in the bed fitfully sleeping.  Sitting down beside her in the chair, he watched her until he fell asleep.
        Opening her eyes to the sunshine streaming in the window she looked to the tall figure slumped in the chair asleep.  The awkward position he was in brought a smile to her lips.  Wincing from the pain the bruises in her face caused she made a sharp intake of breath.  Silently, painfully she sat up in the bed and propped a couple pillows behind her.  She wanted to be out of this place, wanted to be doing something to nail the bastards that did this to her.  Wanted to help Michael and Kitt.  When the nurse came in, Michael woke.  After medications had been doled out the nurse left.  "Good morning sleepyhead," Bonnie quipped at him, faking good humour.  "Michael, get me out of here today.  Please?"  The plaintive voice worried him.
        "I'll see what I can do Bonnie, but if the doctor says you should stay here, you're staying."  Michael smiled at her frowning face.  "Okay, okay.  I give.  I'll get you out of here today.  Alright?"
        "Thanks Michael.  I have some ideas on how to find these guys, and I want to get on it right away."
        "No need.  I've got a meeting scheduled with them for tomorrow."
        "Michael, what do you mean you've got a meeting.  How did you arrange that?"
        Looking at her intently, he decided she should know it all.  "Bonnie, let me bring you up to date.  Right after we found you and brought you here I contacted Devon.  While I was talking to him a man infiltrated the Foundation and shot him point blank in the back of both knees."  Bonnie's face turned to a mask of horror, tears welling in her eyes.  "He went into surgery last night.  With Kitt's help, the L.A.P.D. apprehended the guy, who ended up killing himself in the interrogation room."
        "How did Kitt help, Michael?"
        Kitt's voice came through the comm link clearly, "Bonnie, I tapped into the keyhole satellite system and used that to track him down and coordinate with the police."
        "How did you.... Never mind, I'm glad you did it.  Was there any information on the guy."
        "Nothing so far.  The name on his license was fake, and he died before he could be questioned.  All I know is he was Irish.  That was from his accent,"  Michael finished.
        "Okay, now you've definitely got to get me out of here.  We've got lots of work to do."

        Two hours later they were all in Kitt heading for the ranch.  Bonnie had assured Shirley, Michael and Kitt that she would be okay going back there.  Besides she reasoned, the rig was there and Kitt was going to need some extra tuning for the following day.
        Pulling into the drive Bonnie started shaking.
        "We can take you elsewhere if you want," Shirley said.
        "No, I'm okay.  Let's get this over with."  Getting out of the car she walked slowly to the door and tore the police tape off.  Walking in she started to clean up before the others were even in.  Looking at the lines where Peter, the driver had been, tears started flowing down her face again.  "Michael, I..."
        Embracing her hard Michael said, "I know.  We'll get these bastards.  Don't worry.  We'll get them.  It's their turn to be afraid.  The hunters have just become the hunted, only they don't know it yet."
        "Michael, they were armed with fully automatic weapons, how are you going to combat them all.  I know you've got a handgun, but that won't help.  Not against these guys."
        Looking down at her, his face darkened, "There's a full arsenal stored in the basement of this place.  I'll be armed to the teeth, and I've got a special weapon, Kitt."

        After several hours of weapons practice to hone his skills and a lot of smart alec comments from Kitt, the partners drove to the site of the next days meeting.  Approaching from the back in silent mode, the tires crunching on the loose gravel, they crested a hill overlooking the farmhouse.  "What can you pick up Kitt?"
        "There are four heavily armed men inside the house with two others walking the perimeter.  There are no security measures on the structure, and no traps that I can detect.  No explosives of any kind are apparent on my scanners Michael."
        "Good," Michael said as he stepped out of the car, "I'm going in for a closer look.  I want to see just what we're up against."
        "I'll keep an eye on the perimeter guards and warn you away from them.  Michael..."
        "Yeah Kitt?"
        "Be careful."
        "Always partner."
        Crouching low, Michael made his way slowly from one cover to the next with Kitt warning him of the locations of the two guards.  Thirty minutes later he was close enough to the house that he could see in one of the windows and remain hidden behind some hay bales.  Four men talking, one of the men vehement in what he was saying by the rapid arm movements and the expression on his face.  Michael looked closely at the faces to remember them clearly.  After watching the men for several minutes Michael decided to press his luck and circle around the house to get a feel for the layout.  Halfway around he heard the soft beep from his comm link.  Whispering, "Yeah Kitt?"
        "Michael, a vehicle is approaching the house and will be there in forty-five seconds."
        "Thanks buddy."  Michael made his way around to the front to better see the person getting out of the car.  He recognized the face from the images he had seen of The Movement members.  There weren't many, and those were blurry at best, but he recognized this man, Sean O'Leary.  The head of The Movement.
        "Kitt, the leader is here.  They're all relaxed and only lightly armed.  It's gonna be completely different tomorrow.  Are you thinking what I'm thinking partner?"
        "Michael, you want to attack now?  Alone?"
        "I'm not alone Kitt, I've got you.  Stay in silent mode and start making your way down here.  If you see one of the guards, take him down.  I'm gonna need your backup on this one."  There was a slight tremor in Michael's voice as he contemplated what he was about to do.
        "I'm on my way Michael."
        With that Michael withdrew his Heckler & Koch 9mm handgun and screwed on the silencer.  He slowly and quietly drew back the action to ready for a rapid shot.  Slowly moving from where he was crouching he heard Kitt on his comm link.  "Michael, one of the perimeter guards is approaching your position from your seven o'clock, approximately 40 yards away."
        "Thanks Kitt."  Turning around Michael saw the man.  He was wearing black fatigues and obviously had body armour on.  'Great' he thought, 'It's gonna have to be a head shot.'  Raising the gun Michael slowly depressed the trigger to activate the laser sight, centering it between the guards eyes.  Lowering it just slightly to the nose, Michael pulled the trigger.  The guard was dead before his body hit the ground.  'Thank God for laser sights and a steady hand.'  Michael heard the distinctive sound of Kitt's laser firing.  "Kitt, you took care of the other guard?"
        "Yes Michael, he won't be reporting us to anyone for quite a while."
        "Okay.  I count six men all together, all of them in the house.  How do you feel about crashing their party?"
        "Quite literally crash, you mean?"
        "You got it Kitt.  You go in and I'll follow."
        "Agreed.  I'll be there in twelve seconds."  Seconds later the car came into view and hurtled through the house on a direct path for the men situated in it.  Gunfire erupted from the few men still capable, but they were firing at a fleeing Kitt.  Michael took aim and fired at each man in turn, not to kill, strictly to incapacitate.  Shoulders, hips and legs.  Firing repeatedly until every man in front of him was down, Michael hadn't heard Kitt calling him on the comm link, he'd been concentrating so hard.  "Yeah Kitt?"
        "Michael, a car is leaving the scene.  The man you said was the leader is driving it."
        "Shit!  We can't go chasing after him Kitt, we've got to get these guys into custody before they all get away."
        "Of course Michael.  I'm calling the authorities now."
        Walking slowly and carefully through the carnage Michael kicked the weapons away from each person then checked for more.  These men were hurt badly, but in one part of his mind, not badly enough.  Not after what they did to Bonnie and Devon.  His family.
        Half an hour later he was explaining everything to the police and watching the men get carried by ambulance to a secure hospital.  The feds would have some nice long conversations with those boys, probably before any medical attention was given.  After giving his report to several different officers, Lieutenants and detectives, an exhausted Michael was allowed to leave.
        He was asleep when Kitt pulled into the ranch and didn't want to wake him so he found a quiet spot and parked, tinting the windows black for his driver.  In the morning he woke to a repeated thumping and a sore neck.  The neck he recognized instantly, the thumping took an extra few seconds until he realized someone was banging on the roof of the car.  Opening the door he saw a bewildered and panicked Shirley.  Stepping out he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  It felt like the right thing to do at the moment.  Separating himself from her he said, "It's done.  The Movement here is finished.  The leader, Sean O'Leary escaped, but the rest are either dead or in custody.  It's done Shirley.  Now you only have to worry about your run of the mill whacko's."
        Looking into his eyes she could see the pain this assignment had caused, saw the dead look in his eyes.  It brought tears to her own.  "Thank you Michael.  It doesn't seem enough with all this has put you through, but it's all I have."  With that she kissed him deeply, something she had wanted to do for a long time.  As they parted from the kiss, Bonnie appeared at the door.
        "Michael, it's Devon.  He's calling."  Michael broke into a run to get to the phone.
        "Devon?  Hi!"
        "Ah Michael.  How are things on your end.  Any leads?"
        "Devon, you amaze me.  You're in a hospital bed and all you can think about is the case.  I guess you have reason though.  The case is cracked Devon."  he went on to update his boss and friend on the case, concluding with, "O'Leary escaped.  I don't know to where, or how, but he escaped in all the commotion."
        "That is not good news Michael.  We'll have to track him down and stop him, or nothing will save Ms. Johnstone from him.  I'll contact my friends in the various agencies to find him.  He's probably heading back to Ireland to regroup.  I'll be in touch."
        "Rest Devon.  I'll talk to you later."
        After a meal and a good nights sleep, Michael drove Shirley to her apartment and left her there with promises to be in touch.  The immediate danger to her was over.  All that was left was finding O'Leary and getting him to the authorities.  Michael then drove to the airport where a Foundation driver was waiting patiently to get picked up.  Michael took him back to the mobile unit and they all left the ranch for Los Angeles and Devon.

 
*

        Arriving at Foundation headquarters, Michael checked in with Devon's assistant for an update.  Devon was recuperating in the hospital still, and was quite anxious to be released.  Walking back to Kitt Michael smiled at the thought of the hospital staff having to put up with the distinguished English gentleman that was probably driving them all nuts.  Spinning the tires as per typical, Michael and Kitt headed in the direction of the hospital.  He was quiet for the drive, even with Kitt's repeated attempts at conversation and humour.  Pulling into the parking lot Michael told Kitt to keep his scanners peeled.  Walking up to the reception desk, he asked for Devon Miles.  He was tired and sore and wanted sleep, but his duty and responsibility was to his friend and mentor.  Getting the room number he made his way through the labyrinthine hallways until he found Devon, asleep.  Pulling up a chair next to the bed, Michael settled himself in and quickly fell asleep.
        "Hard for a chap to recuperate with this racket going on."
        Snorting, and grunting, Michael awoke to a smiling Devon.  "Hey Devon, how are you?"
        "I was fine until someone let you in here to disturb my sleep with that God awful snoring you do."  Devon smiled and reached out his hand which Michael took.  "Glad you're here.  How did things go out there?"
        "Kitt and I took out a bunch of them, but O'Leary got away.  We figure he's in Ireland now.  Doing what, we don't know.  But, he's a fanatic, a very dangerous one.  I'm worried about what his next move will be."
        "Maybe I can help."  Michael and Devon both looked to the doorway where Shirley stood.  "Devon, you're here because of me.  Let me help.  I can use my sources in the State Department to find out what Mr. O'Leary is doing in Ireland.  I know for fact that's where he is.  He's been seen.  The British want to send in the SAS, but I think we should find out more before they do.  What do you think?"
        Michael stood up and walked to Shirley, taking her in his arms, not realizing until this moment how much he had missed her.  "I think I'm glad you came.  What do you propose?"
        "I propose that we get me out of this hospital and back where I belong and we can work on it then.  Hospitals have a lot of ears after all."  Devon was sitting up expectantly in his bed doing his best to contain his enthusiasm and retain his dignity while fully aware that he was wearing nothing but the hospital gown.
        "Okay, I'll get you checked out while you get dressed.  Shirley, can you get us a wheelchair?"
        "I don't need a wheelchair.  Revolutionary cybernetic implants designed by Knight Industries.  I can walk, just not very well yet I'm afraid."
        "I'll get the wheelchair," Shirley said with a smile to Michael.
        "Good, Devon, you get dressed, and I'll arrange everything with the staff."
        Twenty minutes later Michael and Shirley were wheeling a grumbling, cursing Devon out to Kitt.
        The drive to Foundation Headquarters was full of laughter and fun as Kitt and Devon got caught up.  Back in Devon's office the conversation turned serious.
        "What we need," Michael began, "is to get first hand intelligence on his whole operation, from top to bottom, then let the SAS go in and take out The Movement once and for all."
        "The State Department doesn't have the manpower over there to do that Michael."
        "I believe Michael knows that Shirley.  I think he's proposing that he and Kitt would fit the profile for this perfectly.  Am I close Michael?"
        "You're right Devon.  With Kitt, I can do more surveillance than ten men.  You know that."
        "I know Michael, I'm just not fond of the idea of you and Kitt being over there without backup."
        "Shirley, can you arrange for backup for me through the State Department?"
        "I can do better than that Michael.  I'll liaise personally with them for you.  That way I can keep in touch with you."
        "Then it's all set.  All that's left now is for me to break the news to Kitt.  He is not going to be very happy with this plan."
        "You can say that again Michael.  Of all the hair brained ideas.  It was bad enough having to fly to Mexico in the past.  But across the Atlantic?  Michael, if I was meant to fly, Bonnie would have put wings on me."  Michael, Shirley and Devon all looked at Michael's comm link and started to laugh.  "I really don't think this is a laughing matter.  Michael, you know how I feel about flying!"  Kitt's voice almost a whine.
        "I know buddy, but, do you want to let these guys get away with everything they've done to us?"
        "You know I can't let that happen Michael.  But I still don't like the idea of flying over the ocean."
        "Would you prefer we go by ship?"
        "Three weeks surrounded by salt water?  When does the plane leave?"
        "You two get a good nights sleep tonight, and I'll make all the arrangements for tomorrow.  Thank you Shirley, for all of your help in this."  Devon was close to tears.
        With a warm embrace for Devon, Shirley said, "It's the least I can do.  I'll make the arrangements with the State Department in the morning.  Good night Devon."
        Walking out of the office Shirley waited for Michael to emerge, walking with him to his chambers.  "May I come in?"
        Opening the door for her, Michael followed her into his suite.  Once the door was closed Shirley turned to him and took him into a warm embrace, kissing him deeply.  She then led him to the bedroom.  Taking her clothes off, she slowly started to undress Michael.  Pulling him down with her onto the bed they lay entwined in each others arms.

 
*

        "Michael, what in blazes happened?"
        "Hi Devon, plane crashed, we survived, but just barely.  Kitt sustained some major damage.  Do we have anyone this side of the Pond who can help us?"
        "Yes Michael, I'll contact our European division immediately.  What caused this disaster?"
        "A bomb.  Kitt detected a radio signal transmitted from outside the plane to a bomb in the nose.  We're a little shaken up, but we'll be all right."  Looking around at the carnage strewn about them he added, "But Devon, we were the only survivors.  Everyone else is dead."
        "I'll contact you when I've arranged for help.  Take care Michael."
        "The emergency crews are on their way.  We should probably leave the area Michael."
        "Okay Kitt.  Let's go."  Starting the engine, Michael put the car into gear and navigated his way through the wreckage.  "Where are we anyway?"
        "Approximately ten kilometres west of Plymouth.  Shall we start heading for the ferry to Ireland?"
        "Yeah, we might as well, at least until Devon calls with a rendezvous location."
 

        "Michael, we're approaching our meeting point with a mobile unit."
        Waking up and stretching painfully, Michael replied, "Thanks buddy.  Where are we?"
        "Just on the outskirts of Bristol.  Devon called two hours ago to transmit the information.  We are not making optimal time due to the damage.  You have been asleep for six hours now."
        "Kitt, even you're sounding tired.  Why don't you let me take over?" The concern was evident in Michael's voice.
        "Unfortunately Michael, it is taking a great number of calculations for every foot we travel.  I'm afraid it would not be possible for you to keep us traveling in a straight line."
        "Well, let me try, and you assist as needed.  That'll give you a bit of a break."  Michael pushed the manual button and immediately the black Trans Am started swerving violently across the road.  With minimal help from Kitt he was able to get the car under control and maintain his course.
        Arriving a half hour later at a black Knight Industries straight truck, both Michael and Kitt were dumbfounded to see Shirley and Bonnie standing beside it.
        Stepping out of the car Michael was embraced by both women, tears flowing freely.  Bonnie turned to Kitt and began fawning over him, directing technicians to load him into the back of the truck.  Once he was secured Bonnie turned to Michael.  "We'll have to take him to the lab in Bristol, it's small but with what I brought on the jet, we should have him fixed up in no time.  How about you?  I'll assume you haven't seen a doctor yet.  What was Kitt's diagnoses of you?"
        Looking between Shirley and Bonnie, Michael knew he didn't have a chance.  "Take me to the hospital.  Kitt said I've got some minor bruising, some lacerations, a couple of broken ribs, some pulled muscles and a strained wrist.  Nothing major."  He said this with a smile, hoping they would miss the part about the ribs.  It didn't work of course.  Before he could blink, Shirley was leading him to their car.  "Another BMW, heh Shirley?  This one's a little nicer though, or maybe it's the fact that it's in one piece."
        "You know mister, if you weren't so hurt I'd wallop you for that comment.  Instead I'll just hold you and pretend you didn't say it."
        With Shirley cuddled into his side in the backseat, Michael looked to Bonnie up front with a quizzical expression.  "Not that I'm complaining, but how did you two get here?  Especially you Bonnie, you hate flying, and after what happened to Kitt and I, I didn't think you would ever get on a plane again."
        Shirley spoke first.  "Bonnie couldn't stay behind when the two men who mean the most to her were hurt and needed her.  And, um, well I needed to make sure you were alright.  Needed to feel you, and hold you.  I guess I needed the comfort of you as much as I hoped you needed mine at this point."
        Looking down at her, Michael realized that he truly loved her.  More than he had loved before.  She accepted him, his partner, his job, his family, and in some ways more important to him, his scar.  "I love you," he said quietly, leaning in for a soft kiss.
        Two hours later, with the sun setting they left the hospital.  Bonnie had headed for the lab as soon as Michael was admitted.  Michael and Shirley drove straight to the hotel for the night.  For the second time, they made love.  It was painful for him, but worth it.  He still had fears about how close they were, fear of betrayal, but he realized that it was strictly subliminal.  Here in his arms was a woman that truly loved him.  When he was in a crisis, she dropped everything to help.  It was a comforting thought as he drifted off to sleep.

*

next installment coming soon