Brains to the rescue

Scott's rather explosive reaction to his news still ringing in his ears, Brains got off the commuter jet in Asheville, one of about a dozen people who were making the stop on the way between Atlanta and Raleigh-Durham. A quick call ahead had secured his further transport, a sleek luxury sedan worthy of one of the world's richest men. He took possession of it and programmed the onboard computer with Lou's address, which Scott had given to him. The easiest route was displayed on the screen, along with traffic conditions. With a sigh, the genius left the jetport and followed the indicated path to the small red dot indicating where Lou Myles had settled down.

As he approached the house, he noticed several cars in the drive. One was a county sheriff's car, plainly marked. A burly officer was standing beside it, talking into his cruiser's microphone. There was a large beige truck, and beside it, in front of the police vehicle, was a cream colored van, with words stenciled on the side. Brains swept by the house, made a three-point turn further up the road, came back down as far as the inn, then turned around again in their parking lot and drove back up to Lou's. He parked the car in view of the house just short of the opening to the drive. The porch was blocked off with bright yellow crime scene tape, and it drew Brains's attention as he walked onto the property.

The officer looked up and frowned as Brains approached. He muttered something into the microphone then spoke to him. "Can I help you with something?"

Brains reached into his sport jacket pocket, making sure that the sheriff's man could see his every move. He took out a slim wallet and extracted an ID card. Handing it to over, he said, "I'm, uh, Hiram H-Hackenbacker. I'm looking for M-Mr. Tracy." As Brains waited for the officer to scrutinize his Tracy Industries' identification, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A dark-skinned woman, braided hair pulled back, came around the side of the house with a gray cat in her arms. Brains glanced over at the van, noticing the words "Mason's Pet Sitting Service" as part of the advertising on the side. Lou's mysterious Mrs. Mason? he asked himself.

The lawman was finished with the ID and seemed satisfied. As he returned the card, he said, "Well, Mr. Hackenbacker, the last I knew, your employer was at Mission Hospital."

"W-Was he badly hurt?" Brains asked, concerned.

"Not to my knowledge." The officer turned and called to the woman, "How's it coming, Miz Mason?"

"It's not, Mike" the woman answered. "Two of Miz Myles's cats are still on the loose. I'm going to be here for a while yet, I think."

Mike frowned again. "I've got to get back on patrol. Will you be okay by yourself? Joze'd skin me if something happened to you."

Jadzia Mason snorted. "You tell Josiah that if he's so damned worried about me, he needs to get his butt down here and help. I know he's off duty now," she said with some exasperation. "Never mind, I'll call him myself!"

Mike chuckled, then noticed Brains still standing there, observing. "You'd better be on your way, sir."

"Y-Yes, you're right. Thank you for the, uh, information," Brains replied, nodding. He retraced his steps to the sedan, then turned around to head back down the gravel road and on to the hospital that the officer had mentioned.

Jeff startled awake from his doze. He sat in the chair near the bed in the private room he had arranged for Lou, waiting for her to wake up. The drug that she had in her system had finally rendered her unconscious again, but not before she had been thoroughly examined, scanned, and treated. But because they couldn't identify what she had been shot up with, the doctors decided to keep her overnight for observation. He himself sported a small bandage on one cheek, treatment of an abrasion suffered when he had been pushed up against the wall. Since no one had told him he had to leave, he stayed, hoping to talk to her in private when she awoke.

Officer Mason had taken his statement hours before. He really hadn't been able to tell the man much, just what had happened to him and his impressions of the entire scenario. No, he hadn't seen any of his assailants. Yes, he thought that there were five of them; he had heard at least that many different voices. No, he had no idea what they were after. In this, he lied, for he had a very good idea what the raiders has been looking for and it concerned him that they had broken Lou to the point that she gave it to them. He also omitted one other small detail: the fact that these people knew damn well just who he was and had called him by name.

Mason had also questioned Lou to the extent that he could before the drug zoned her out completely. Jeff doubted that she told the officer much more than he himself had, though trying to recount the event through the increasing drowsiness made her nearly unintelligible. Jeff was certain that the sheriff's men would be back for more information when Lou was coherent.

He glanced over at the sleeper, taking in the arm that had been strapped with a wide, soft band to keep it in place as the muscles and tendons regrouped after its forcible relocation back into the shoulder socket. She looks terrible, but the doctors seemed to be more concerned with the drug than with her injuries. He shook his head at the bruised and swollen face, and, now that the danger was past, his anger came to the forefront and he scowled.

What went on there in that kitchen? What did they do to her? How far did those bastards go to get what they wanted? Those S.O.B.s asked for a file and she gave them one. Did they have time to get it? He shook his head then stood to pace the floor. A nagging, niggling thought kept surfacing and try as he might, he couldn't get rid of it. But was it the same file? Did she lie to me about destroying it? She could have easily made another copy of it. Just as she could easily have planned and staged this whole affair. Like the plane going down. All of this could be just a front for my benefit. But why? Why would she do that? She's my friend. I trust her...

He paced the floor some more and then threw himself back into the chair. Where the hell is Brains? Scott told me he was on his way when I finally was able to call home. I'm sure I'm going to get more than an earful from Scott and the other boys when I'm clear of this, especially since Scott told me just how he found out what happened. Damn the media! Hope Mother doesn't find out the same way. Lou was right; I am a celebrity. That is the reason I gave for my move to the island. Confound it! Where is the man? Where is Brains?

He stood again to pace when the door opened and a phlebotomy technician bustled in, a small basket in hand. She looked surprised to see him, but gave him a smile. "Need a sample from Mrs. Myles," she said by way of explanation. Jeff scrutinized the cheerful woman carefully, but she had a proper hospital badge and the way she went about her duties reminded him of Brains working in the sickroom. He cursed internally. This whole thing has me jumping at shadows!

Her work complete, the technician bustled out again, and passed Brains, who was just coming in. "H-Hello, Mr. Tracy."

"Brains! Just the man I need!" Jeff exclaimed. "I called Scott and he said you were on your way."

Brains moved over to Lou's bed and ran a shrewd, practiced glance over her face. "I-I'm sorry I, uh, took so long, Mr. Tracy. I didn't know wh-where you were. I went to L-Lou's first." He turned to his employer. "A sheriff's officer t-told me you were, uh, still here."

"Hmm. Do you think that officer would still be there?" Jeff asked. "I need a change of clothes and access to my PDA."

Brains shook his head. "N-No, Mr. Tracy. But a Mrs. Mason might be. She's Lou's c-cat sitter and she was having trouble, uh, rounding up the c-cats. Said she'd be there f-for a while."

"Good!" Jeff said. "You have a rental?" When Brains nodded, he held out his hand. "Let me use it. That and your satellite phone. I'll go back to the house and see if Mrs. Mason will let me in to get my things. Give Scott a call on the way. You stick here and look after Lou. I'll be back as soon as I can be."

Brains sighed, and handed over the car keys, describing the vehicle for Jeff as he did so. Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and left, plans beginning to form in his mind. Brains made himself comfortable in the chair, and settled down to wait.

Once on the road, Jeff plugged in Brains's phone, and called home. Scott answered, looking sleepy. "Hey, Dad. What's the news?"

"Not much. Lou is still out of it, but Brains is on the scene and looking after her for me. Any word from our agents?"

"None yet, but they've only been on alert for a couple of hours. Alan's up and combing through the flights out of Asheville over the past few hours as you directed. He's not reported anything unusual."

"Hmm." Jeff looked thoughtful, half his mind on his driving while the other half wrestled with the problem at hand. "Have him expand the search. First airports within a 100 mile radius, then 200 mile, looking for small craft or commercial flights to the Bahamas."

"That's a pretty big order, Dad. Why the Bahamas?" Scott asked.

"Something Lou said to me," Jeff replied. "Make sure our agents in and around Unity City are on full alert. Give Penelope a ring and brief her on the situation. Hopefully I'll have more to give you once I talk with Lou." He paused as he turned onto the road to Lou's house. "How's Gordon?"

"Bruised, battered and with a pulled groin muscle. I had Dr. Cruz look at him. Fortunately, Gordon's not grounded from swimming if he takes it easy."

Jeff winced at the thought of Gordon's injuries. "What did you tell Cruz?"

"Parasailing accident. He seemed to accept it."

"Good call. Listen, I'm at Lou's now and hope to collect up a few of my things. I'll talk with you again soon."

"Right, Dad. Bye."

Jeff noticed the cream colored van parked beside Lou's truck as he eased the sedan in behind it. As he got out, he saw a dark blue motorcycle sitting between the garage building and the van, a slick-looking helmet fastened behind the double seat. He frowned as Officer Joze Mason came from behind the house, dressed in civilian clothes.

What the hell is he doing here? "Hello, Officer Mason," Jeff said, trying to be cordial.

"Hey there, Mr. Tracy. Has Luci been released from the hospital yet?" Joze called as he headed for the van.

"No, they're keeping her overnight for observation. What brings you here off-duty?"

Joze smiled wryly. "Cat round up." He gestured with his head back to the house. "My wife is trying to get Luci's four back inside where they belong." He opened the back of the van. "She's got three out of four, but Spot is being stubborn."

"She is, is she?" Jeff said, politely. He was strangely relieved to find that Officer Mason was married. "Perhaps you could help me with something."

"What is it?" Joze asked as he pulled out a net.

"I need access to my personal things. Clothes, briefcase, all that. Could you let me in? You can watch me collect what I need."

Joze took in a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "I suppose so. Jadzia's the one with the key and the access code. Come with me. I'll ask her to let you in."

Jeff followed the other man to the back of the house. There, kneeling by an opening under the back porch, was a handsome young woman, two of her long thin braids hanging down beside her face, having escaped the bunch at the back of her neck. She was crouching on all fours, an open can of tuna beside her.

"Spot! C'mon, baby. Don't be stubborn," she called. She turned as she heard footsteps, "Joze? Where's the... oh! Hello." She got up from the ground when she saw Jeff, dusting her hands off on the sides of her khakis, then holding one out. "Jadzia Mason. You must be Mr. Tracy. I see the resemblance to your son, the one who brought Luci home.."

Jeff smiled and shook her hand. "Yes, I'm Jeff Tracy. I think it was Alan you met. Your husband was telling me that you're having a... 'Spot' of trouble."

Jadzia chuckled at the pun, then sighed. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Spot doesn't like me much, you see. To her, I mean a ride in a car and lots of drooling. It's gotten so bad that she hides when she sees me. She won't even come out for tuna. I'm hoping that if I move away, her hunger will overrule her skittishness and I'll be able to nab her with the net." She shook her head. "That's going to make her dislike me even more, but I can't leave her outside."

Lou's words about Spot from their encounter in the bathroom came back to Jeff, and he said, "Spot favored me with her attentions in the bathroom the other day. Lou said that she liked me. Perhaps I could..."

"Be my guest, Mr. Tracy," Jadzia picked up the can of tuna and handed it to him. "Don't be surprised if it doesn't work, though. Joze and I will back off."

Thus challenged, Jeff took the can and crouched down before the opening of the porch. In the shadows he saw a slight movement, and recognized the form of the cat. Squelching the desire to say, "Out, damned Spot! Out I say!", he called softly, holding the smelly fish before him. "C'mon, Spot. Come on out, kitty."

Spot turned her head toward him, and he could see the yellow of her eyes almost eclipsed by the wide black pupils. She craned her neck as she gazed out at him unflinchingly, sniffing a bit. He continued to coax her vocally, raising the volume of his wheedling until he had achieved the same tone as he had used in the bathroom. She began to move toward him slowly, stretching and pretending that she didn't hear him, but coming ever closer and closer. He reached out a hand, and she flinched and drew back. "C'mon, Spot. Come to me." He placed the can between himself and the opening, then withdrew his hands. A few more hesitant steps, and Spot was clear of the porch. She nosed the tuna experimentally, then removed a chunk with her mouth and set it down beside the can, breaking it up into smaller bits as she chomped on it. Jeff reached out slowly and stroked his fingers lightly across her back. She raised her head suddenly to look at him for a long moment, then went back to her eating. Carefully he slipped a hand under her chest, and before she could twist out of his grasp, he had her.

"Good Spot, good kitty," he murmured as he held her close to his chest, rubbing the cat along the cheeks and between the ears.

"Nicely done," Joze remarked, grinning. Jadzia moved in to pick up the tuna. As she approached, Spot squirmed in Jeff's arms, and he moved his scratching hand down to better secure the wiggling feline.

"See? She doesn't like me," Jadzia said, shaking her head. "C'mon. Let's take her inside and put her on the porch with the others."

"What about the tuna?" Jeff asked as he followed Jadzia inside, Joze bringing up the rear.

"I'll put it aside and give them all a portion at dinner," Jadzia promised. She took charge of Spot, removing her from Jeff's arms, unlatching the cat door and slipping the skinny tortie through. The cat came face to face with Midnight, who had hurried over to the door in hopes of getting off the porch. Her ears went back, and she hissed and swatted him, giving Jadzia time to latch the door again.

"I'm going to collect a few of my belongings," Jeff said, pointing to the hallway. Jadzia nodded and Joze followed him. He stopped short for a moment in the kitchen, confronted suddenly with The Chair: the kitchen chair where Lou had been secured by the raiders. He took a deep breath, let it out through his nose, and continued past, down the hall to the guest room.

He surveyed the room from the door for a moment, taking in the rumpled bed and sighing. Stepping in, he opened the closet and pulled down his briefcase, unlocking and opening it to check the contents, then securing it again. A shirt and slacks followed, then he took out a clean set of under things and his shaving kit from his suitcase. He glanced over at Joze, noticing for the first time the smear of blood on the wall to the right of the bedroom door, encircled by a policeman's mark. "I'd like to get a shower, if that's okay?"

"Sure. Just answer this. When the raiders pulled you out of bed, is this," he indicated the spot on the wall, "where they slammed you up against the wall?"

Jeff sighed again. "Yes. It is. Just as I said in my statement. Now, if you don't mind?"

Joze moved out of the way and Jeff headed for the shower.

Clean and now armed with the technology he needed, Jeff left the house to the Masons, and headed down the gravel road. He took a left hand turn, drove along the river and, on a sudden impulse, made a sharp turn up and onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. At the first scenic overlook, he pulled into the parking lot. For a long moment he gazed out the windshield, unseeing. Then he began to work.

First, he took out his laptop and plugged it into the car's electrical system. He booted it up, and created a wireless link to the 'Net. Then, out came his PDA. He keyed in the password and opened up his address book, scrolling down to the entry that Lou had added. Entering the address of the email box, he typed in the password, and uploaded the attachments, being certain to send them through the Tracy Industries email filters. Then, he put the attachments into new emails, and sent them to Scott at his Tracy Industries inbox. Picking up his own satellite phone, he placed a call.

Scott jumped when the vidphone in the lounge rang once again. He had been dozing in his father's chair, waiting to hear from Alan, who had set Thunderbird Five's powerful computers to search for flights to the Bahamas. He ran a hand through his mussed hair, and answered the phone .

"Hello, Scott," Jeff said, his attention half on his computer and half on his son. "I've sent you a series of emails with file attachments. I want you to store them on our IR server, but not before running them through Brains's filters and doing a complete virus scan."

"What's it all about, Dad?" Scott asked.

"Lou sent these by email to a drop box and gave me the means to upload them. But I want to make perfectly sure that they aren't carrying any malicious code," Jeff explained. "Once they're cleared, leave them on the server in a separate, password-protected folder. I'll go over them with you when I return."

"I don't understand. Why all the cloak and dagger?"

Jeff was brought up short by Scott's question. It was so similar to what Lou had said that first night. He realized that despite all his best efforts, Lou's deep sense of paranoia had passed to him. So deep was it that he was even questioning her motives, he who had said he trusted her just hours before.

"It's hard to explain, Scott. Suffice it to say, when you see the files, you'll understand."

"Okay, Dad. I trust your judgment. I'll take care of this right away."

"Thanks, son. Once you're through, get some sleep. Roust John or Virgil out of bed to wait for Alan's report. I'll call back once I've spoken to Lou."

"Right, Dad. Talk to you later."

The call disconnected, and Jeff sat for a moment, cursing himself internally for letting himself get to this point. Then he pulled a card out of his pocket, and dialed another number. When the computer switchboard answered the call, he punched in an extension. After a moment's wait, the words "voice only" came up, but he could hear Brains's hesitant, "H-Hello?".

"Brains? Jeff. How is she?"

"Ah, M-Mr. Tracy. She's c-come around. The sh-sheriff's officer wants me to, uh, clear out so he can talk to her. F-Fortunately, he, uh, has to w-wait in line. The doctor is h-here now." Brains looked away. "I, uh, have to go. They're k-kicking me out."

"Okay, Brains. I'll be there as soon as traffic allows. Goodbye." Jeff ended the call, then started the car and pulled out of the scenic overlook, heading back to the city and his chat with Lou.