K N I G H T R I D E R
eclipse of the
knight
written by Scott Kirkessner
[
rated PG-13 for some violent content, sensuality and adult language ]
[
based upon “Knight Rider” aka “Knight of the
[original
project start date: July 25, 2005 ]
[original
project complete date: October 17, 2005 ]
[ director’s cut project start date: November
7, 2006 ]
[
director’s cut project complete date: November 27, 2006 ]
[
proof read by Michelle Gardner ]
[
final word count: 36,805 ]
[
Knight Rider and characters are © 1982, Glen A. Larson and NBC/Universal ]
[
r e b o r n – the director’s cut
“Big Ed” Deline
tried his best to navigate the casino floor without his hosts or Miss Mancuso
seeing and stopping him. There was way
too much on his mind to deal with comps or the new owner’s bullshit.
Not only was the
Montecito playing host to the United States Defense Contractors Conference, an
absolute security nightmare that spelled out many long shifts for Ed and his
staff, but the FBI, not the most favorite people of his and the feeling was
definitely mutual, came to him a week ago and informed him they were planning a
sting in plain sight in the middle of this damned conference.
He had to run that
through his mind once more. In the midst
of the Defense Contractors Conference, a national security event at his casino
where he had to work with the Secret Service to ensure complete security, the FBI
was planning a sting to bust a group of people with their minds set on
industrial espionage.
The new Montecito had
been stretching her wings and getting back on her feet since her rebirth. Thanks to new owner Monica Mancuso, this
hellish event was thrown onto Ed’s plate as she decided such a conference would
breathe new life into the Montecito.
Yeah, great
event. The casino had virtually been
taken over by the Secret Service to prepare for the conference, and during the conference,
all attendees had to wear computerized badges, and any public patrons of his
casino had to pass through metal detectors and were subject to random searches.
Ten floors of the
resort were closed and reserved for conference attendees.
Worst of all, the
topless pool was going to be closed down during the conference.
Ed dealt with people
scrutinizing the security of his casino, despite millions of dollars worth of
security, surveillance, anti-theft and other pieces of equipment that made the
Montecito the most secure casino on The Strip.
That wasn’t good
enough for the Secret Service.
And now… the FBI was
here to conduct a covert mission in the middle of it all to prevent the leak of
sensitive information.
How could this day get
any more hectic?
“Ed!” yelled a voice
he was trying his best to avoid. He
looked to his left and Monica was hurrying to catch up to him, “I got wind of
something big going down in the middle of the conference,” she said, “do you
know anything about that?”
“I am on my way to
find out now,” Ed lied, “An agent from the FBI is waiting for us.”
“That’s where I’m
going too,” Monica said as they walked, “where’s Danny and Mike?”
“Dealing with
something, they’ll meet us there,” Ed said.
Monica stopped Ed,
“Dealing with what? I thought we agreed
I would be kept in the loop when I took ownership.”
Ed turned to Monica
trying his best to keep an annoyed look off of his face, “I’ll keep you in the
loop, Monica. I will forward every
incident report to you my staff deals with, from purse thieves to old ladies
falling down the brand new stairs that are claimed to be up to code. Shit, I’ll even give you the reports that
come out of the new parking garage you built that is supposed to be safer with
wider spots. You know we’re holding bets
to see if dings or bums rank higher in the garage?”
Monica looked at Ed
straight-faced. With that face, he knew
Danny would want her on his poker team, “Well it looks like we have everything
under control,” she said.
“Yes, we do,” Ed
replied beginning to walk again, “although it seems the Secret Service has all
but fired us and taken over my facilities.”
“Oh relax, Ed, I gave
up ten floors of rooms, the topless pool, most of the casino and our new
conference center, you can stand to share your surveillance office,” Monica
said.
“That reminds me,” Ed
said before going into the conference room, “I’ll be sure to give you a report
of any illegal activities my team might have missed because we are baby sitting
the nation’s secrets.”
The two were at a
standstill for a few moments before they walked into the room.
Two of Ed’s staff,
Danny McCoy and Mike Cannon were already sitting in the room watching the FBI
agent begin his presentation.
Ed eyed the FBI agent
suspiciously. One would think an FBI
agent in charge of a security sensitive mission in the middle of one of the
nation’s most public places would be in a suit with his badge proudly hanging
from some piece of cloth. Instead, the
man was in business casual attire with a hairstyle that might be reserved for
someone ten years younger.
Next to the man, on
the massive screen on the front wall of the room was the face of a middle-aged
man with a rough-and-tumbled look. No
smile, if there were any muscles in such a hardened face to produce the
expression.
“This man,” said Agent
Paul Taylor speaking with a slight Southern drawl, “is Fred Wilson, the chief
of security for Northrop-Grumman, which just happens to be one of the Armed
Forces defense contractors. Wilson and
his staff will be accompanying Grumman’s CEO, Mr. Charles Acton to the
conference to provide security.”
“Unfortunately,
“What the hell is
going on, Ed?” Danny whispered, “don’t we already have enough going on?”
“We have too much
going on,” Ed replied, “This is going to be a nightmare.”
“A small team of
agents from the Bureau will be conducting the takedown tomorrow night,”
“Where will you be
taking them down?” Ed asked.
“Two of our agents
have been able to infiltrate the team.
According to their intelligence, Wilson and his staff will have a
limousine waiting for them at the main entrance. We will take them down before they get to the
limo. Six agents from the Vegas field
office will be waiting in taxicabs for one of our agent’s signal. Their fare lights will only be half lit, so
warn the bellmen not to hail these cabs.
“You can’t miss
“If all of you
understand tomorrow night’s operation, I expect you to field out the necessary
information to your teams,” Taylor said, “Do not tell the bellmen who is
in those taxicabs, just make sure they don’t hail them. Do not approach Wilson and his staff,
and for the love of God, do not get in the way.”
Ed shifted in his seat
and was about to say something. Monica
placed a hand on his shoulder and looked it him. It was obvious she hated that comment as much
as Ed did.
Everyone nodded. Ed was fuming.
“My team and the
agents have already been briefed, and consider yourselves briefed on the
information you need to know.
Dismissed.”
“Dismissed,” Ed
whispered to Danny and Mike, “it’s like we’re in the friggin’
military.”
“That briefing makes
me feel a hell of a lot better,” Mike said, sarcastically.
“Are they crazy to be
doing this now?” Danny asked, “Why does it have to be during the conference?”
Ed watched Monica
leave the room, “I think Miss Mancuso is having second thoughts. Look, we’ve had our share of attempted scams
during conferences before—”
Danny interrupted Ed,
“But we were the ones that stopped them. Working with the Secret Service to provide
security for the conference is one thing, but now the FBI is here and they are
ordering us to allow a scam to take place?”
“Any other day and any
other conference, Danny, I’d tell that bastard up there to go screw himself,
but I don’t want to think what would go wrong if we took control.”
“Nothing would,” Mike
said, “that’s the whole damn point.”
Ed looked out at the
busy casino floor and let the noise fill his mind for a bit, “I hate the
government.”
Michael Long walked
into his bedroom and dropped his empty duffel bag on his bed. Quickly on his heels was his live-in
girlfriend Stefanie Mason.
Stefanie, whom Michael
liked to call Stevie, sat down on the bed and looked up at Michael. If Michael did not have his back to her, he
would have quickly noticed a definite sparkle of fear emanating from her
striking blue eyes.
Michael was filling
his dopp-kit and did not look at Stevie once as he
turned to place it in his duffel bag and moved over to his closet.
He was in his early
30s, and standing at 6’2” moved gracefully with long strides of legs Stevie
playfully said never ended. He kept his
light-brown hair well-trimmed and spiked, never once letting go of the military
hair regulations that seemingly followed him since his discharge from the Army
four years after the first Gulf War ended.
He had a chiseled
face, as if Michelangelo sat down and spent three decades crafting it
himself. His facial features were
imposing, giving a natural glow of leadership and authority. He had piercing green eyes that would often
change to grey when he was either angry or concentrating…
Concentrating on anything. Which is why Stevie would often request
illumination during their love-making.
Her eyes followed
Michael as he darted around the room in preparation for his red-eye flight to
Las Vegas. It was a full five minutes
before he noticed her sitting there. By
the time he did, he could see the look in her eyes.
“Stevie?” he asked
with a touch of concern in his voice.
Michael loved her – it was obvious.
In his heart, he knew he would do anything for Stevie.
Almost anything…
“I don’t want you to
go to Las Vegas,” Stevie said, looking at him while slowly spinning the
diamond-ring Michael placed on her finger two weeks ago.
“I can’t do that
Stevie,” Michael said as he packed his bag, “we’ve been working too hard on
this case,” he stopped and turned to her, “We’re going to break it wide open
tomorrow night. We are going to catch
them. Besides, I don’t have a choice. I’ve been in communication with the criminals
for a few weeks now, and I am supposed to meet them in Vegas to be one of their
new musclemen.” He flexed and Stevie
laughed.
Michael grabbed his
wallet and dropped it. The outer flap
flipped open to reveal his FBI identification.
Stevie picked it up and looked at it.
“When we first met I
had you pegged as a loser… a career Army man with nothing left after the
service. No good ole war for you to serve
in, the glory days spent in the desert over… I couldn’t have been more
wrong. I never would have thought that
you were a G-Man,” she said.
“You never were good
on first impressions,” Michael teased, “you thought my brother was my father.”
Stevie laughed
again. She stood up to face Michael,
despite her forehead just reaching his nose.
“I have a bad feeling about this.
You know I have these sixth sense feelings about things.”
“One visit to a
soothsayer at the Delaware State Fair and you are convinced you are one,”
Michael said, smiling. This time, Stevie
wasn’t.
She put her arms
around his waist and hugged him tightly.
“I still don’t want you to go.”
“I know,” he said with
a voice that melted her heart, “but we can’t afford to lose this case. There is too much riding on it.”
He kissed her.
“What am I supposed to
do while you are gone?”
Michael picked up his
full duffel bag and stood in his bedroom doorway. “Well when you go into work at the Pentagon
on Monday, tell those generals not to let the defense contractors have
conferences in Las Vegas.”
“Just barge right into
the general’s office?”
“This isn’t the 80s,
babe. Send an email,” Michael said with
a wide smile.
Stevie grabbed
Michael’s backpack and walked with him through their Victorian-style townhouse
and out to the street.
Once his car was
packed, he went to her for the dreaded traveling-goodbye.
“I love you,
Michael. Please be careful,” she said
while hugging him tightly. She could
feel Michael’s head pull back in a way she knew he would exactly tell her that
he would be fine and for her to not worry.
Before he could, she stopped him.
“Please Michael… please be careful.”
Michael kissed her on
the forehead. “If I got out of Desert Storm
alive, I am sure I will get out of an FBI sting in Las Vegas.”
He got into his car
and started the engine. Stevie quickly
kneeled beside the driver-side window with a look of concern still in her eyes.
“I left something for
you in the kitchen. I’ll be back in a
few days. I love you, Stevie,” Michael
said.
Stevie put her hand on
the door in a last ditch attempt to somehow stop Michael. Or at least slow him down.
“I’ll be back. I promise,” he said. He kissed her again, a few seconds longer, and
put the car in gear and drove away.
Stevie let a single
tear escape her eye before she walked up the stairs to their Georgetown home.
Sitting on the kitchen
counter was a bouquet of fresh roses of all different varieties and vibrant
colors. On their third date, Stevie told
Michael she never could pick a single rose to enjoy and loved them all.
Also on the counter
was a slim white box. Stevie opened it
and gasped. Inside was a gold
heart-shaped necklace. On the inside of
the lid, Michael left a note for her:
You may break
You may shatter the
vase
But the scent of the
roses will hang around it still
The scent of the roses
will linger forever.
Four hours later
Michael was in one of the Montecito’s standard hotel rooms overlooking the Las Vegas
Strip. He was the last agent to arrive
to the sting as Lonnie was already in place with their target, Muntzy was
undercover with the resort staff, and Taylor was the agent-in-charge,
coordinating their operations with hotel security.
Agent Lonnie Sullivan
was the first to know the main details of the operation. She was the first to infiltrate Wilson’s team
once the FBI heard of the planned coup from a Grumman insider. The Bureau hadn’t heard from Lonnie in a
month before she sent a quick text message to Taylor, warning him to get
ready. She was going to be the one
responsible to steal the designs for the Tomcat-X.
That was two weeks
ago. Lonnie was easily able to pull
Michael into the organization to be part of Wilson’s security staff. No one on Wilson’s staff except for a man
named Gray, Lonnie, and Wilson himself were to know about the operation. Michael and the other security officers were
supposed to be extra beef to give the illumination of a security officer caring
about protecting the company.
Michael looked out the
window at the Strip. He could make out
the Luxor beam amid the neon glow of resort hotels. He took an assortment of cards out of his
wallet and studied his new credentials. He
checked into the hotel and was known among Wilson and his staff as Michael Roesler, an ex Green Beret turned mercenary of fortune.
Michael just settled
in to fall asleep when a heavy knock sounded on his door. He quickly got up and grabbed his FBI issued
Beretta 92FS and walked over towards the door.
He looked through the peephole and saw Lonnie standing outside with
another man. It was Wilson. He stuck the handgun behind his back through
his belt and opened the door.
“Michael!” Lonnie
said, bouncing in and giving him a big hug.
“Play,” she quietly whispered in his hear. She released him and looked at Wilson. “Mr. Wilson, this is Michael Roesler, your new security guard.”
Michael nodded and
looked at Wilson. “Good to see you in
person, sir,” he squarely said.
Wilson, to Michael’s
surprise, extended his hand. Michael
shook it. “Shaking this hand, Mr. Roesler, you’ve just accepted a contract and agreed that
the only orders you follow come from me, and just like the Army, you follow the
orders without question. Understood?”
“Clearly, sir,”
Michael said, tempted to salute.
“Good,” Wilson said,
“The conference’s opening ceremonies begin at 6 tomorrow night. From there on, everyone will be mingling
about in the casino. Your job is to work
with Gray and the rest of the security staff keeping a close eye on Acton and
looking around for anything suspicious.
Also, Mr. Roesler, Acton hates to cash in his
chips from gambling if the casino is crowded, so if he insists on taking them
up to his suite, you stay on his heels until he does, understood?”
Michael nodded.
“We begin tomorrow,
report to me in room 3019 for a final briefing with the security staff,” Wilson
said. He turned to leave and took Lonnie
with him before Michael had a chance to speak with her.
Michael hated the fact
that Lonnie had been out of touch for so long.
She must have been kept so close to the operation, or had the feeling
she was being closely watched, she couldn’t have given them any more information
than what they were working from.
He had half a mind to
go look for Muntzy, but decided against it to avoid blowing the agent’s
cover. Muntzy would be in place in front
of Acton’s suite to keep an eye on Lonnie as she went in for the theft. He would give her a two-minute head start
before he moved to the casino floor to assist in the bust.
Once Lonnie had the
Tomcat-X designs, she would return to a specified meeting point with Wilson and
Gray, and they would leave the casino, ditching Acton, his girl, and the
oblivious security staff.
Michael, Muntzy, and
Taylor would be in communication with each other on a coded frequency. Once they found Lonnie, Muntzy would tail her
while Taylor and Michael would wait at the front entrance. When they reached the limo, Michael would
give the signal to the agents waiting in the cabs and the operation would be
over.
Michael went to sleep
that night thinking the operation would be absolutely fool proof. He didn’t know he would be completely wrong.
After the opening ceremonies
of the conference, there was a mad dash to the casino floor, mainly poker
tables, craps tables, and blackjack tables.
Michael walked around
the casino and observed the action at the tables. The essence of the conference was a poker
game in itself as there were many players from either side trying to be dealt
in, some begging to be dealt out, and others just simply watching. Contractors from numerous companies mixed
business and social talk with representatives from the Department of Defense as
they played a few hands of the games.
Agent Jordan Muntzy
was a short black man around the same age as Michael. He wore maintenance clothes and carried a
toolbox in one hand, and a ladder in another.
He was walking down the hallway when he noticed a security guard
standing in front of Acton’s suite.
Unwavering, he kept walking until he reached a lighting fixture one door
in front of the suite. He flashed a
smile to the guard and began to set up shop.
“That light looks fine
to me,” the guard said with a suspicious tone in his voice.
“It looks just fine to
me too,” Muntzy said, “but we’ve had reports on it flickering over the past few
days.”
“I’ve never noticed
anything,”
“I’ve been up here
five times to fix it and it looked just like it does now. It must be an electrical problem, so I may as
well look at it before it turns into something worse.”
The guard grunted.
Michael found Wilson
and Lonnie, walking the casino arm in arm posing as a couple, and keeping a
close eye on Acton and his girlfriend who Michael met earlier that night. Her name was Tanya Walker and there was an
air about her Michael couldn’t place. He
looked at them again and noticed Lonnie was watching Tanya more than Acton
himself.
“What’s going on,
Michael?” Taylor asked over Michael’s virtually hidden
earpiece.
Wilson’s security
guards did not have any kind of communication equipment, as they were all
watching Acton in close or distant proximity.
Michael had to turn a certain way and pretend he was examining a slot
machine to reply. He looked up and saw
Wilson whisper to Lonnie. He handed her
a card-key and a piece of paper. Within
seconds, Lonnie left his side.
“Wilson just sent
Lonnie somewhere,” Michael quietly said, “can you get her on camera? Where is she going?”
“She’s headed towards
the elevators, I think she is headed your way, Muntzy.”
Michael looked up and
saw Wilson put away a cell-phone. “I
think Wilson just called someone.”
There were a few
seconds of silence before Muntzy’s voice came over
the band. “He must have called the
security guard in front of Acton’s door, because that dude just left. Said something about going to the casino
floor.”
“It’s happening,”
Michael said, “Wilson just cleared the way for Lonnie to get the designs from
Acton’s safe.”
“Be careful down there
Michael, you’re in a bed of snakes,” Muntzy said.
“Not as much as Lonnie
is, Muntzy, keep an eye on her.”
Lonnie felt
overdressed for such an occasion, but nevertheless, looked stunning in her
violet gown. She had long flowing brown
hair that ended in curls and was accented against her white skin. She saw Muntzy working on the light in the
hallway but didn’t say anything–didn’t even look at him as she opened Acton’s
suite and entered.
She quickly moved to
the safe in the walk-in closet. She took
out the piece of paper Wilson handed to her and entered the combination. The safe instantly popped open. She took out four mini CD-ROMs from the safe
and set them on a shelf. She opened her
purse and grabbed a portable CD scanner/data storage.
It took her just a few
minutes to scan the discs and save the data.
She put the discs back into the safe and made sure she didn’t disturb
anything. She took out a cell-phone and
called Wilson. “I scanned the discs, I
have it all.”
“Excellent work,
Lonnie. Did anyone see you?”
“There’s no one around
except for an electrician in the hallway.”
“An electrician?”
Wilson said with alarm.
“It’s fine, I’ve seen
him around here before, don’t worry,” Lonnie replied.
“Okay, well meet me at
Acton’s craps table, you can’t miss it once you get to the casino. The bastard’s winning big.”
“See you soon,” she
said.
Muntzy was still
working on his light when Lonnie left the suite. “Nice night, isn’t it?”
Lonnie smiled and
looked up at him. “You could say that,”
she replied, walking down the hall.
Muntzy wasn’t
comfortable giving Lonnie the original two-minute head start, so he counted a
few long seconds before he started to follow.
“I’m on her tail,” he said.
“Be careful, Muntzy, I
lost Wilson,” Michael replied.
“Relax, Agent Long,
I’m the original man of steel,”
“Wilson’s at the craps
table with Acton and Tanya. Acton’s
winning big, look for the giant cheering crowd,” Taylor
said.
Lonnie showed up by
Wilson’s side at the table. Michael
started to make his way over.
“There’s been a change
of plans, Lonnie. Take these keys and go
to the top level of the parking garage.
There is a silver Z. Get into the
car and wait for us to show up,” Wilson said.
Lonnie nodded and
started walking towards the parking garage.
Michael passed her as he just arrived to the craps table. She looked at him and then back at Acton… or
Tanya. Before he could process it,
Wilson approached him.
“Acton’s winning big,”
Wilson said to Michael, “so stick with him.”
“All right,” Michael
replied.
The table cheered as
Acton rolled a seven. “I can’t lose
tonight,” he said.
Acton’s girlfriend,
Tanya Walker, a platinum blonde stunner with dark-brown eyes that looked out of
place, warned him against jinxing his luck.
“I make my own luck,”
Acton said, kissing her.
Wilson stepped away
from the table and began walking towards the parking garage. Just ahead of him, he saw a black man in a
utility jumpsuit dash out of an elevator and into the parking garage. “Damn it.
Gray, they burned her. A
maintenance man is on her tail, take care of him.”
Michael watched Wilson
disappear around the corner. Apparently
Taylor watched the same thing on the cameras.
“All units, get ready. We have
a broken play; they are headed towards the parking garage. All other agents, wait for my signal.”
Michael was anxious to
run to the parking garage to back up his team, “Muntzy, be careful, I think
they’re on to you,”
Lonnie opened the car
door when someone called out her name.
It was Muntzy.
“Lonnie! It’s time, we have to—” Muntzy was cut off by
a gunshot. He fell to the ground, dead
with a bullet in his back.
Lonnie screamed and
looked up. Gray was standing behind
Muntzy, holding a gun.
The gunshot came over
loud and clear over the radio. Michael
flinched well enough for a few people to notice, including Tanya. There was too much at stake for Michael to
remain undercover, and he blew it in front of Acton and Tanya by speaking to
the agents on the other end of the frequency.
“Muntzy? Muntzy!”
“Man down! All agents to the top level of the garage,
man down!” Taylor yelled.
Michael wasted no time
in ditching Acton and Tanya and darted off to the garage.
Acton looked
pissed. He yelled after Michael. “Where the hell are you going?”
Tanya took off,
running after Michael.
By the time they got
to the garage, Lonnie, Gray and Wilson had just sped out.
Michael ran over to
Muntzy who was face down on the cement. “Oh
God,” his voice trembled as he approached his partner, “Muntzy?” He examined Muntzy’s
bloody wound and felt for a pulse. He
never found one. “Shit!” he yelled,
slamming his hand on the concrete.
At that instant,
Michael knew Lonnie was in grave danger.
He leapt across the
hood of a cab and flashed his FBI badge to the driver. He got in and noticed Tanya was behind him in
the backseat.
“All agents hold off
pursuit, they’re mine,” he said. Michael
turned to Tanya, “Get out.”