Untitled Part 4

        Mishelle wanted to cry.  She'd only been with Jonny for a few days,
but he was already driving her insane.  The most annoying thing was,
he wasn't doing a SINGLE thing.  He had done everything right, and
that in itself was infuriating.  Plus, they'd moved into an
'apartment' the size of a dorm room in order to stay mobile.  Besides,
Hadji still hadn't convinced Dr. Quest that Race was dangerous.  They
WOULD look pretty suspicious searching for connections to Surd and Rage.
Finding Rage hadn't been so hard; a couple of checks with the local
mental asylums resolved that.  Most of his 'disciples' were there,
blathering away like The Riddler at the end of 'Batman Forever.'  He
wouldn't be able to gather enough support to strike back for at least
six months.
        But they couldn't find Surd.  THAT scared Mishelle.  She'd been
briefed on all of the Quests' psychotic acquaintances and had heard
all about the body switch.  They'd looked everywhere for him, tracing
credit card numbers on people buying large amounts of sophisticated
computer equipment, tracing wheelchair equipment transactions, and
above all tracing electric company bills for high voltage use.  So
far, nothing.
        "DAMN it, Quest.  Why can't we FIND him."
        Jonny began to think out loud, "We've tried all residential and
business areas.  No sign.  Where else could he be getting his power?"
        It hit Mishelle like a ton of bricks.  "I GOT IT!  If you're not at
home, and you're not at work, where are you?"
        Jonny's eyes widened in understanding, "You're in the car."
        "I remember, you said Surd often used the ice cream 18-wheeler ruse. 
He got his power from somewhere while he was doing that, probably a
reliable source.  And when you have a reliable source…"
        "Why loose it!" Jonny's eyes shone.  "He's using a wireless power
source! But if he's pulling off something this big, why wouldn't he
get more computer stuff?"
        "His source probably has access to that kind of stuff.  No wonder we
can't find him, he's not buying electricity, equipment, OR space."
        "WAIT!  We don't know he's not buying space!"
        Their voices rose with their adrenaline level.
        "Jonny, run a scan on all business and residential space being leased
with little or no electricity use!"
        "Gotcha!"  He sat down and began typing away like a madman.  "I've
got it!" His voice cracked uncontrollably and his eyes were as wide as
saucers.
        They leaned over and looked at the screen.
        "Run a scan for all businesses titled with the word 'computer.  Then
cross reference with sales of 18-wheeler trucks.  If Surd has space,
surely he'd ditch the truck."  Mishelle's voice seemed to raise a
pitch or two as well.
        "There are only two matches left."
        "YES!" They chorused, stood up simultaneously and high-fived.
        They stood for a few moments in shock as the fact registered: They'd
been forced to work together, and had succeeded.
        Mishelle decided to state the obvious.  "You know, Quest, when we're
not at each other's throats, we make a pretty good team." 
        Jonny stared at her blankly.
        Oh my God, he's shocked.  Because I've never ever given him any
praise, at all.  But, he's never given ME any praise either.
        "I think we make a pretty good team, too, Jenks."
        OK, so maybe he HAS...
        "Come on, lets check out those businesses."
        "OK, they're both in Boston, just a little way from where they're
holding Jessie.  One's a residential and one's downtown, 2700 block."
        "I'll take the one downtown."
        "Rondevous at 1700 hours.  Here."
        "Roger that, let's GO for crying out loud."

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Half an hour later, Mishelle was walking briskly down one of the many
downtown alleys backing up to the 2700 block of downtown Boston. 
Quickly she found a back door.  Mishelle kicked the lock off and made
her way inside as inconspicuously as possible.  She found herself a
level below the lobby, in a small, odd smelling room.  As far as she
could see, there was only one way out of the room, through a freight
elevator on the far end.  She got on, and pressed the button for the
top floor, the 50th floor.  
        *If I was Surd, I'd be at the top.  If he's using wireless power,
he'd want the best reception as possible.*
        She had gotten to the 48th floor when she heard the first sounds of
an ambush.  It was nothing at first, just a slight noise from above: a
rustle and a click.  That was all Mishelle's finely tuned body and
ears needed to know.  She took an attack stance, ready for whatever
came next.  Instead of an ambush, all she saw was one ceiling panel
opening above her and a lady come through.  Her sheared hair and
shirt-like dress was all she need to identify her as Julia, Surd's
favorite lackey.
        "You must be Ms. Jenks," Julia's voice was as cold as ice.
        "What's it to YOU?"  
        "Temper, temper.  However, it won't do you much good for long.  Soon
you will be joining a few of your friends in the holding cell."
        "What would YOU know about MY friends?"
        "Plenty, if you're referring to Mr. Bannon, Mrs. Velasquez, and Mr.
Crenshaw the younger."
        Mishelle's blood ran cold.  
*So they do have Race and Estella.  But how did they get Travis?*
Trying to act nonchalant she said, "So where are you keeping them,
Julia?  I've really got to grab them and run, you know."
        "Don't even try that with me.  You're scared, you know, and most
importantly, I know it."
        "Bitch."
        Mishelle leaped for Julia, tackling her to the floor.
        *I can tell she knows some form of physical discipline.  Her muscles
are too defined to be a regular lackey.  I'll give her what she's not
expecting: a blunt, head on attack*
        Julia kicked her off, her high heels digging into Mishelle's ribs. 
Julia landed on top of her and readied her fist.  She delivered one
blow to Mishelle's eye before Mishelle could counter.  Rolling over so
that she was on top of Julia, Mishelle put both of her hands around
Julia's neck and squeezed.  Just as Julia was about to pass out from
lack of air, a strong pair of hands pulled Mishelle off of her.  Two
fat, hairy fingers found a nerve on Mishelle's neck and squeezed, she
went out like a light.

        When Mishelle opened her eyes again, she didn't believe what she saw.
 She was in a QW chair, and next to her, in a row, were Race, Estella,
and Travis, all logged on.  They flinched and twisted slightly in
their chairs, as if being tortured by some invisible enemy.  Typing
away at computers nearby were Julia and Lorenzo.  Mishelle looked in
from of her and nearly gagged.  Surd was even more revolting in real
life than in the 3-D holographic images Jonny had showed her.
        His face was dirty and unshaved, his hair was wild and greasy, and a
small rivulet of saliva ran down the side of his face.  As quickly as
she had felt her disgust, she hid it.
        "What are you doing to them, Surd?"
        "Demanding today, aren't we, Mishelle.  Your friends are busy
experiencing there worst nightmares.  Mrs. Velasquez is currently
witnessing virtual images of her daughter's death.  Mr. Crenshaw is
feeling both the mental and physical effects of being chased,
attacked, and eaten by a rabid dog.  Mr. Bannon, ah, I have something
rather for special for him.  He watches his wife and accomplice being
tortured, but is seperated from them by a thin layer of glass, it is,
I do believe, driving him quite mad.  I have a program ready for you,
too.  I built it off the mind probe we did while you were unconscious.
 You will drop your brother again, and again, and again off that
balcony."
        Mishelle went icy with fear, and for a moment, she lost the mental
grip she had on herself.  She tried to stand up, but found she was
bound, and nearly panicked.
        *Get a grip, Jenks.  You know a little about computers.  Maybe you
can help once you're in.  Yeah right, you'll probably to busy being
scared to do anything.  Oh, I'm in trouble.*
        Then Julia leaned over her, fastening a headset on her ear.  "Next
time, Mishelle.  I'll fight you woman to GIRL."
        "Really Julia, I think we're beyond insults.  If I wasn't bound,
you'd be on the floor, asking for mercy.  I had you beat in that
elevator, and if your little toadey there hadn't come to your rescue,
I wouldn't even BE here."
        "Ya gotta admit it, Jules.  You wasn't looking good when came in.'
        "Shuttup, Lorenzo."
        That was all Mishelle heard before she her mind slipped into the
alternate plane of reality.  
        And she was there, again.  And there was her brother, his hand
slipping over the edge just as she arrived at the top, just in time to
see her brother fall to her death.  She didn't know how many times
Surd played the memory in her mind, but by the fourth or fifth time,
Mishelle was beyond anything but screaming.  And so she did, over and
over, till she was hoarse, and her face tear-streaked.  She was ready
to let go of her last bit of sanity when something pulled her out of
the nightmare.
        She opened her virtual eyes to Surd's formidable figure.  
        "Face it, JENKS, you're broken.  As broken as the decaying shell of
my body!"
        "YOU are a sick, twisted BASTARD who lacks the courage to face life
from a different perspective.  ALL of us have to eventually.  Things
happen, and we all have to annie-up to adversity.  I lost my brother,
Jonny lost his mother, Jessie lost her family to divorce, but you
shouldn't have that problem.  YOU'VE never loved.  Julia doesn't
count, YOU didn't lose something you loved."
        "You don't know what you're talking about," Surd said.
        "YOU lost something purely physical.  You could've gone on.  But you
warped your own mind into thinking your body was all you had.  YOU'VE
NEVER LOVED, YOU'VE NEVER REALLY LOST, SO WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO
HATE?"
        Surd just grinned, "How right you are, I lost my material shell.  But
I gained far more power than you will ever know.  I AM INVINCIBLE!"
        "YOU are crazy!"
        Then she was floating in a void, and then, she was falling.  Her feet
fell out from under her, and she felt like she would fall forever,
again and again.
        *Oh God, I can't do this for much longer.  My mind will turn to the
vegetable de'jour. I hope someone finds us soon.  I hope Travis is OK,
he's been here longer than I have.  It's like a living hell.  I'd even
be glad for Jonny to rescue me, I've just got to hang on a little
longer…*
         







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-Kristen

(c) Kristen Hill 1998