Knight
Rider 2000
Flash
Written by
Scott Kirkessner
Based upon KNIGHT RIDER
Created by
Glen A. Larson
Original KNIGHT RIDER 2000 Concept by
Rob Hedden
New concept by
Scott Kirkessner
Season finale The Knight Foundation is hot on the trail of a serial
killer who leaves a mysterious calling card which no one understands.
Rated R for profanity, suggestive dialogue, and strong violent content
including a disturbing home invasion scene.
Salyersville, Kentucky
Twenty-two year old Lacie Krina
walked down the hallway to the hotel room she had been staying in for the past
two months.
Her boyfriend, who had been
supporting her, skipped town, with about 2000 dollars of her money. Her job as a waitress at the Two-Step Diner
was taking her nowhere, and she was lucky to be able to live in the hotel.
She held the Keycard with an iron
grip in her hand and approached her door.
She slid the card into its hole and waited for the green light to
illuminate. She turned the door handle
when it was unlocked. What she didn’t
expect was a blunt force from behind.
Whatever it was, blasted her
through the door and onto the floor. It
was a man. She heard the door slam
shut. The man walked over to her and
picked her up by knot of the apron she was still wearing and threw her onto the
bed. He hit her on the back of the head
with his fist and kneed her in the back when she tried to stand up.
Lacie was too scared to scream,
but she kept trying to struggle and fight the intruder away. Her resistance was met with a back handed
slap against her face, her cheek being cut by the man’s ring. He punched her in the face, breaking her
jaw.
The man took out electrical cord
and tied her hands behind her back, and her legs together. She still tried to kick and scream, but he
placed a cloth over her face and soon all she saw was black.
Sheriff Deputy Jason Mackenzie
watched the crime scene investigators take pictures of the hotel room where
Lacie Krina was kidnapped. He had the
terrible task of notifying her family, which were 200 miles away.
The Sheriff, Mason Kerber, walked
down the hall, passing some of the hotel’s occupants who were curious as to all
of the commotion. Mackenzie walked up
to him.
“What’s the story?” Kerber asked.
“It’s a big mess,” Mackenzie said,
“the room next door said that he heard the door open around seven-fifteen
am. He heard a loud slam, and what
sounded like a body hitting the floor.
Another loud slam followed, and then a few minutes of silence, finally a
final slam and footsteps down the hall.
He called the Sheriff’s Department at seven-thirty-two am.”
“What have the investigators
found?” Kerber asked.
“Just the usual signs of a
struggle, and something else.” Mackenzie said, walking back into the room.
“What?” Kerber asked.
“Written with a magic marker are
the letters J-J-F, right on the carpet.” Mackenzie said, pointing.
“There’s something wet in there.”
Kerber said, reaching down and touching it.
He smelled the liquid on his fingers.
“It’s gasoline.” He said.
“Hell of a calling card.”
Mackenzie said.
“No shit. But it sounds awfully familiar.” Kerber
said, standing up. “Let’s think things through.”
He said walking out of the room and down the hall with Mackenzie following.
“All right, I’m game.” Mackenzie
said.
Kerber walked out of the lobby and
into the parking lot where his car was parked.
He got in the driver’s seat, and Mackenzie joined him in the passenger
seat.
“We know that it is definitely not
a rape crime.” Kerber said, pulling out of the parking lot.
“How do we know that for
sure? Could have been a clean rapist.”
“Let’s say that the first slam was
this creep pushing Lacie through her own doorway. He throws Lacie to the ground.
The second slam could be him slamming the door shut, so no one with
attentive eyes can get a peek at what he is doing. Now the neighbor says that he heard a few minutes of silence, so
let’s say just one to three minutes.
Now, we all know that is not enough time to remove clothes from a
female, whip it out, and turn a home invasion into a rape. So I figure during this time, he is tying
Lacie up with rope or something. Then
there is the third slam and the footsteps, where this guy opens the door, slams
it shut, and carries Lacie down the hall to whatever vehicle is out back.”
“Makes sense, not to mention the
time it took to magic marker in the letters.” Mackenzie said. “But what about the freaky calling card?”
“The JJF?” Kerber asked.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Killer’s initials maybe, or a
song or a movie that he likes.”
“And the gasoline?” Mackenzie
asked.
“Maybe he planned to torch the
place, and changed his mind.”
“But wouldn’t it make sense to
spread the gas everywhere? I mean this
gas was in one single spot in the room.” Mackenzie said.
“What are you getting at?”
“That gas was intentionally left
with the JJF.”
“Could be right,” Kerber said,
turning the wheel, “who knows?”
“You said that the crime scene
looked familiar.” Mackenzie said.
“Yeah, it did. Well the calling card at least.”
“Have we had a crime like this
before?”
“No, not like this, but I do
remember reading about it somewhere. It
was in a crime report from 1989, a similar crime to it in Los Angeles. Some guy would kill people and leave the
letters JFK by the bodies. Turns out
the guy was a Kennedy freak.” Kerber explained.
“So this could be a copycat
crime.” Mackenzie said.
“More than likely. I guess I should call the people who wrote
the report…”
“And who wrote the report?”
“Good morning, Knight Foundation.”
The receptionist answered.
The phone buzzed on the desk of
Russell Maddock, Chief Executive Officer of the Knight Foundation. “Yes?”
“Put it through please.” Maddock
said. He turned on the
speakerphone. “Hello, this is Russell
Maddock.
“Mr. Maddock, this is Sheriff Mason
Kerber from the Magoffin County Sheriff’s Department.”
“What can I do for you Sheriff?”
“I am interested in a 1989
Foundation for Law and Government report concerning a murder in Los Angeles.”
Maddock was
typing on his computer. “The JFK
Calling Card Murder?”
“Yes sir.”
“How can I be
of assistance?”
“We think we have a copycat
crime out here Salyersville and-“
Maddock sat
up. “I’m sorry, your name again?”
“Sheriff Mason Kerber, of the
Magoffin County Sheriff’s Department.” Kerber replied.
“All right,”
Maddock said, when he finished writing down the name, “a copycat crime you
said?”
“Yes. Although we don’t have a confirmed murder just yet. The intruder, left a calling card, much like
the 1989 murder. The letters J-J-F were
written in magic marker on the carpet, and were soaked with gasoline.”
“Wow, that
sounds too much like a coincidence.” Maddock said. He leaned back in his chair.
“Well, Sheriff, what I can do is fax you the report, see if you can get
some clues from that. Also, keep in
touch as well and let us… hello?”
“Sorry Mr. Maddock I was talking
to my deputy. They just found a body.”
Maddock looked
at his screen. “Let me guess… a body
with all its clothes on, with its arms tied behind its back with electrical
cord and legs crossed and tied together with industrial strength electrical
tape. Broken jaw, broken neck, broken
wrists.”
The other end
of the phone was silent. Maddock could
hear Kerber murmur ‘holy shit.’
“Mr. Maddock.”
“Yes?”
“We have a problem.”
0932 Hrs
PDT
Arbor
Heights Elementary School
Shawn
McCormick was standing on the playground in front of about 100 kids from the
second through fourth grades at Arbor Heights Elementary School. They cheered and clapped while she went
through her Anti-Drug presentation.
“KITT is my
anti-drug!” she said, pointing to a sleek fire engine red car sitting on the
grass next to her, with chasing red lights on the nose. “When KITT sees any kind of drugs, he knows
what to do, right buddy?”
“Right Shawn!”
KITT said, revving the engine, and flashing his lights.
The kids
cheered.
“What do you
say when someone offers you drugs?” Shawn asked.
“No!” the kids
screamed.
“And it’s okay
to say no, right?!”
“Yes!” they
yelled.
“Does everyone
have their own anti-drug?” Shawn asked.
Only a select
few raised their hands.
“Okay, take a
minute to think about your most favorite thing in the world. It could be a best friend, or a musical
instrument, or the yummiest thing you could eat. Your anti-drug can be anything you want, anything at all.”
Shawn stopped
her presentation when she heard her cell-phone ringing. “Okay kids, how about we all get in a line,
so everyone can get a chance to see KITT up close!”
The children
cheered, got up, and ran over to KITT, ignoring the part of forming a line.
Shawn quietly
walked over to a swing set and answered the phone. “Agent Shawn McCormick here.”
“Shawn, it’s me.” Maddock said. “Wrap up your lesson at the
school and get back to the home base quickly, we got a problem.”
“What kind of
problem?” Shawn asked.
“Too extreme to explain over the
phone, we’ll fill you in when you get back.”
“All right,
whatever you say, Russ.” Shawn said, hanging up the phone. She looked over at KITT and the kids. “Shit.” She mumbled.
Shawn walked
down the hallway past the many people who work for the Knight Foundation and up
to the door of Maddock’s office. She
opened it and walked in. Maddock was
sitting at his desk, with Bonnie Barstow, and Kevin Williams, KITT’s mechanics
sitting down.
“Have a seat,
Shawn.” Maddock said.
“What’s going
on that’s so important?” Shawn asked.
“I got a call
from a sheriff down in Salyersville, Kentucky.
There’s been a home invasion slash kidnapping slash murder. The weird thing about it is, that the crime
is almost an exact copy of a crime that FLAG dealt with in 1989. Bonnie.”
Bonnie closed
the cover on her report. “In 1989, the
Foundation was called in on a murder case in a Los Angeles hotel. What we found was a woman who had both of
her wrists broken, a broken jaw, broken neck, her arms were tied behind her
back with electrical cord and her legs were tied together with electrical
tape. The killer left the initials JFK
by the body.”
“This time,
the killer in Kentucky left the initials JJF in the hotel room where the woman
was taken from. Her body was found in a
farm not to far away from the city.” Maddock explained.
“Was the LA
killer captured?” Kevin asked.
“Yes, the
Foundation assisted in the capture.” Bonnie said.
“Great, so how
did this yutz get a hold of the crime report?” Kevin asked.
“That’s a good
question.” Maddock said.
“Wonderful.”
Shawn added.
“So what’s on
the agenda?” Kevin asked.
“I’m sending
you down Salyersville, see if Bonnie can help you get hot on the tail of this
creep. That’s all.”
Shawn and
Bonnie got up and began walking out of the room with Kevin following. He closed the door behind him when they all
walked out. “High-ho silver.” He said,
walking on.
Cincinnati/Northern
Kentucky Airport
1600 Hrs
EDT
Two massive
planes were parked on the tarmac parallel to each other. One plane, a Boeing 747, marked with the
Knight Foundation’s logo, carried KITT, and the Foundation crew. The other plane, a massive Lockheed-Martin
C-5 Galaxy Transport, was solely a cargo plane, carrying the Foundation’s
mobile unit.
KITT drove
himself off of the rear ramp of the 747 onto the tarmac. The semi truck had already been pulled out
of the C-5 Galaxy and its ramp was lowered, waiting for KITT to pull in.
Bonnie, Shawn,
and Kevin were standing off to the side watching as Knight Industries
technicians observed and assisted.
“Think this is
just a big wild goose chase?” Kevin asked.
“Damned if I know,”
Bonnie said, “I don’t know how much help I can be, I just made sure Michael
didn’t wreck KITT in trying to find the killer.”
Kevin laughed.
“No guys,
listen, something is fishy here with this murder,” Shawn said, “and it’s up to
us to figure out what is going on.”
“What was the
deal with the JFK?” Kevin asked.
“The killer
was a John F. Kennedy fanatic,” Bonnie explained, “the murder was supposed to
be a start of a string of serial killings up the Pacific Coast.”
“Great, so
obviously this is the first killing.” Shawn said.
“So the big
question is, where will he strike next?” Bonnie said.
“Excuse me,
Mr. Williams? We’re all done here.” A
technician said, handing Kevin a clipboard.
Kevin signed a
paper and handed the board back to the technician. “Thank you.”
The technician
nodded and walked off.
“We may as
well start at the beginning,” Shawn said, “and see what kind of clues we can
find.”
Quality Inn
Hotel
1819 Hrs
EDT
Location:
Salyersville, Kentucky
Kevin looked around
the closed floor where the crime happened.
“We’re staying in the same hotel as the murder, that makes me feel like
a million bucks.”
“Don’t rub it
in,” Shawn said, walking past him and into Lacie’s room.
“KITT, scan
the room for any kind of… whatever. No
matter how insignificant.”
“Right away, Shawn.” KITT answered over Shawn’s
communication-link watch. “I’m detecting the gasoline around the letters which was
mentioned earlier. However, the letters
were not written in magic-marker, but a special type of oil which can be
dispensed from a caulking gun.”
Shawn bent
down and looked at the letters. “You’re
right. I mean it would take a hell of a
long time for a person to magic marker these letters on the carpet. She stood up and looked at Kevin and Bonnie
scanning the room. She walked further
from them and whispered into her comm-link.
“Any… any traces of a rape?”
KITT knew
enough to whisper back. “There are no traces of anything to show that a rape or any
kind of sexual activity occurred.”
Shawn looked
over at Bonnie. “What did you find?”
“Well, from
what it looks like, Lacie was pushed through the door and thrown onto the bed.”
Bonnie said. “Oh wait... hello there!”
she said, scanning the comforter on the bed.
“What is it?”
Shawn asked.
“It looks like
there was a chemical used here.”
“What
chemical?”
Bonnie looked
confused. “Umm..”
“It’s ether.” KITT said.
“Ether?” Shawn
asked.
“Yeah,” Bonnie
said, “obviously the killer wanted to incapacitate Lacie.”
Sheriff Kerber
walked into the room. “What have you
found?”
“Not a lot of
clues which could lead us to the suspect.” Shawn said.
“Witnesses are
coming up short, too.” Kevin said, walking in the room. “Most of them had no idea what was
happening.”
“You probably
should keep this floor closed for awhile.” Bonnie said.
“Have all the
guests been relocated?”
“Yeah,” Kerber
replied, “it’s all good.”
“What’s the next step?” KITT asked.
“See the
body.” Shawn said.
Magoffin
County Morgue
1839 Hrs
EDT
“What exactly
are we looking for?” Bonnie asked.
“You tell us,
you’re the doctor.” Shawn said.
“I’m not a
medical doctor!”
“Relax,” Shawn
said, “the coroner is meeting us here.”
Bonnie
breathed a sign of relief.
The three of them
walked through the door into the main storage area, where Kerber and the
coroner were waiting. A drawer with a
body, covered in a white sheet, was pulled out.
“Let’s get
started.” Shawn said.
The coroner
removed the cover, revealing the body of Lacie Krina. “Okay,” he said, “body appears to be in good condition. Bruising on the chest, sides and… back,
indicate rapid disposal of body, possibly from a pickup truck. Red markings on wrist indicate that they
were tied together.
“Markings are
repeated on the ankles as well, but with a slight variation, indicating two
different means of material were used to tie up the body. Wrists have been broken, apparently by the
attacker. There was no sexual contact
or any indications of such, whatsoever.
“Bruising on
jaw indicates a punch from the attacker’s right hand. Cause of death is the breaking of the neck.” The coroner
finished, covering up the body.
“Where was the
body found, Sheriff?” Shawn asked.
“In one of
Brown and Williamson’s tobacco crops.” Kerber replied. “B and W security found it when cameras
found tire tracks inside the farm.” He said, walking out with everyone.
“Hold on,”
Bonnie said, stopping them. She flipped
through the 1989 case file she had with her.
“Did you do a black light exam?” she asked the coroner.
“No, why?” the
coroner asked.
“Just a
hunch,” Bonnie said, walking back into the room, with the others
following. “You do have a black light
back here, right?”
The coroner
nodded and produced one from a desk. He
handed it to Bonnie.
“Shawn, get
the lights, will you please?” Bonnie asked.
Shawn nodded
and turned the lights out. “What are
you getting at, Bonnie?”
“Something,”
Bonnie said, uncovering the body and turning the black light on. Everyone looked at Lacie’s face, which had
the letters JJF written on her right cheek.
“Oh shit.” Bonnie said.
“The same
initials from the room.” Kevin said.
“The same God
damn style from the 1989 murder.” Bonnie said, looking at the letters.
Shawn grabbed
the report and read it in the black light.
She spoke into her comm.-link.
“KITT, check the mouth and esophagus.”
“Scans indicate traces of
gasoline in the mouth end esophagus.” KITT replied.
“Who the hell
was that?” the coroner replied.
“Just a friend,”
Kerber replied, “what does all this mean?” he asked Shawn.
“This killer
is mirroring everything out of this 1989 case file. The only difference is the change in letters.” Shawn replied.
“Okay, we got
a serious situation here,” Kerber said, “I’m calling in the FBI.”
“Good idea,”
Shawn said, handing the case file back to Bonnie, “we’re gonna go back to base
camp here and rip this report apart word by word.”
“Have the FBI
contact us when they get in town.” Kevin said, walking out the doors with the
others.
Kerber took
out his cell-phone and dialed a number.
He took a deep breath. “Here we
go.” He said, waiting for someone on the other end to pick up.
Knight
Industries Ground Transport
1859 Hrs
EDT
Shawn, Kevin,
and Bonnie were sitting in front of KITT, using his hood as a desk. Maps and papers were set out all over.
Shawn looked
up from her copy of the report. “Is
there any kind of pattern in this at all?”
“The only kind
of pattern I can find is that the 1989 murder was supposed to be the first in a
string of murders which were supposed to move up the Pacific Coast.” Kevin
replied.
Bonnie looked
at a map. “Okay, so he was gonna move
north along the Pacific Coast highway, which is...,”
“Federal Route
101.” KITT said.
“Thanks KITT,”
Bonnie said, “so lets say that this killer is going to move along… I-75.”
“He could
strike anywhere along that interstate.” Kevin said.
“Did the 1989
killer leave any indications on how far he planned to space out murders?” Shawn
asked.
“No,” KITT
replied, “I believe that they were to be random.”
“Damn.” Shawn
said.
“How can there
not be a pattern?” Bonnie asked.
“He’s a serial
killer,” Shawn said, “many serials are whacked out ducks who just kill for the
sport of it.”
“Shawn, the
FBI is calling.” KITT said.
“Put it
through, KITT.” Shawn said.
“Hello, this Special Agent
Natalie Markins from the FBI, to whom am I speaking with?”
“This is Agent
Shawn McCormick of the Knight Foundation, thank you for contacting us.”
“I understand that you are
investigating a murder in Salyersville?”
“That’s
right. The murder is a complete mirror
of a 1989 murder in Los Angeles which the Foundation investigated as well.”
Shawn explained.
“Would you be able to fax both
case reports over to my office?
“No problem at
all.” Shawn said.
“Excuse me,
Shawn, but I believe you should take a look at this.”
Shawn looked
at the screen. “Agent Markins, I think
you should listen to this…” she said, turning the volume up.
“Police in West Carrollton
tonight are baffled as to the discovery of a body in a construction site. Ironically, the grizzly discovery follows
another one in Salyersville, Kentucky, about 12 hours ago. Police representatives in both cities are
keeping a closed-lid on the murders, only revealing that they are both similar
in nature. We’ll keep you informed of
this recent discovery as more news comes in…”
“Agent
Markins?” Shawn asked.
“I’ll meet you at the crime scene
tomorrow morning.” Markins
said, hanging up.
Kevin pressed
a call button on the wall. “Bobby!”
“Yo!”
“Get us on the
road, we need to get to Dayton!” Kevin said, releasing the button. “Oh shit...” He said, sticking a pin in a
map on the wall.
April 5,
2001
0855 Hrs
EDT
West
Carrollton City, Ohio
KITT pulled up
to the construction site, which was abuzz with police cars and uniformed
officers. He parked next to a black
Oldsmobile Aurora, with a woman sitting inside. The woman got out of the car and stood beside it.
Shawn, Kevin,
and Bonnie got out of KITT. “Special
Agent Natalie Markins?” Shawn asked.
“Yes ma’am.”
Markins replied, extending her hand.
“I’m Shawn
McCormick, and this is Bonnie Barstow and Kevin Williams.”
“Has anything
been done to the crime scene?” Bonnie asked.
“No, we
ordered that nothing to be touched until you guys got a chance to
investigate. The body has been
transported to the local morgue.”
“Great,” Shawn
said, opening KITT’s trunk and taking out a silver briefcase, “where was the
body?”
“This way.”
Markins said, pointing.
“When was the
body discovered?” Bonnie asked.
“About twenty
minutes before the news broadcast which spilled the beans.” Markins said.
“What was
found near the body?” Shawn asked.
“Looks like
oil, which spelled out the letters JJF, with gasoline poured over it.”
“It’s our
killer all right.” Shawn said.
“You’re
certain?” Markins said.
“Absolutely.”
Shawn said.
“Here we are.”
Markins said, pointing.
Shawn and Kevin
walked ahead of Bonnie who pulled Markins to the side. “Call the morgue and have the coroner do a
blue-light scan on the body, he should find a marking on the victims cheek.”
Markins nodded
and pulled out her cell-phone.
“Yup, it’s our
killer all right.” Shawn said, looking up to Bonnie.
“KITT, what
can you find around the area?” Kevin asked.
“Nothing much, except for a lot
of footprints. It’s like the entire
world walked around the body.”
“Well
remember, it was dumped here,” Bonnie said, “those footprints could be days
old. See, there are footprints inside the body tape.”
“Ah, correct, Bonnie.” KITT said.
“KITT, can you
find and isolate a set of footprints entering the construction site, up to this
point, and then exiting using the same path?” Shawn said.
The crime
scene came up on KITT’s windshield monitor.
Footprint trails were highlighted in red.
“Yes, but the
problem is, there are trails from yourselves, Agent Markins, and a number of
police officials- wait a minute…”
“What
is it, KITT?” Bonnie asked.
“I have found
a pair of footprints, which are depressed enough in the ground to indicate
someone carrying a female over his shoulder.” KITT explained. “What is that?”
“KITT,
what’s wrong?” Kevin asked.
“I believe I have
found a clue.” KITT said, proudly.
“Agent
McCormick, Doctor Barstow!” Markins said.
Shawn and
Bonnie stood up and looked over to the agent’s direction.
“The coroner
ran a blue-light scan on the woman’s body, the letters J-J-F were discovered on
her cheek.” Markins announced.
Shawn’s
cell-phone rang. She walked away from
the group. “Hello?”
“Shawn,
it’s Russell.”
“What’s going
on?” Shawn asked.
“Shawn…
Lima PD just called us, they got wind that we were handling this case.”
“Go on.” Shawn
said.
“There’s
been another one. A female, again, in
her mid-twenties, same MO, same signs.”
“Shit.” Shawn
said, pushing down the antenna and closing the cover. “We got another one!
Lima, Ohio!” she said, running towards KITT.
Bonnie, Kevin,
and Agent Markins caught up to her.
“What’s happening?” Markins asked.
“There’s been
another murder in Lima. KITT, how far
is that from here?” Shawn said.
“About 90
minutes.” KITT said.
“All right, we’re
going,” Shawn tossed her cell-phone to Kevin, who was getting in the back seat,
“Kevin, call Bobby and have him take the semi to Lima. Agent Markins, you tail us there. Let’s go!” she yelled getting into KITT.
“Go, KITT,
fastest route!” Bonnie said.
KITT backed up
and fishtailed onto the road. His front
headlights began blinking in an alternating strobe formation and a red flashing
light lowered from the interior roof behind the windshield. He sped down the road leading to I-75, which
would take them straight into Lima, Ohio.
1738 Hrs
Lima, Ohio
Inside the
semi, Shawn, Kevin, Bonnie, and Agent Markins were sitting down.
“We have to
think long and hard here. This guy has
just killed three people in the past 48 hours,” Markins said, “is there anything
we can figure out?”
“What was the
clue of yours, KITT?” Kevin asked.
“The killer
wears an exceptionally rare pair of hiking boots, which were discontinued in
the 1990’s. Only a few pairs remain
now.” KITT explained.
“Why so rare?”
Bonnie asked.
“The company
which produced them based their entire market around that type of boot, it was
their first product. However, only a
few people bought the shoes, and the company went bankrupt.” KITT said.
“Is there any
chance-“ Bonnie started, only to be interrupted.
“That we can
track down the records of those who bought these shoes?” Kevin said, finishing
Bonnie’s statement.
“There should
be no problem in doing that at all.” KITT said. “There is a fax coming through, it is from the coroner’s office.”
“I’m dealing
with more coroners this week than I care to.” Shawn said, getting up, leaning
into KITT’s window and grabbing the piece of paper. Knowing what it would say, she crunched it up and threw it onto
the floor.
Markins got up
and grabbed her jacket and put it on over her blouse. “I’m going back to my hotel for some rest. Call me if anything comes up.”
“You got it.”
Shawn said, pressing the button that lowered the trailer door.
“So now what?”
KITT asked
“What choice
to we have but wait?” Shawn said.
“There’s nothing we can do.”
April 18,
2001
0718 Hrs
Knight Air
Transport
Location:
Detroit International Airport
“What’s
wrong?” Kevin asked handing a cup of tea to Shawn.
Shawn took the
cup and sipped from it. “Three weeks
and no murder. What is the guy doing?”
“Getting some
rest,” Kevin said, “he killed three women in 48 hours. I think that took a lot out of him.”
“Yeah well
something doesn’t seem right.” Shawn said, looking at the homicide reports of
the three women.
“No news is
good news.” Kevin said, trying to crack a smile.
“Hell, even
Agent Markins got bored and took off.” Shawn said.
“I know, that
sucks.” Kevin said.
“Where’s
Bonnie?” Shawn asked, stretching.
“She’s with KITT,
they’re hacking some databases to find the people who bought these damn boots.”
Kevin said.
“Any progress?
You are the hacker.” Shawn said.
“None so
far. We don’t know where to look.”
“Why aren’t
you down there helping out?”
“Well, KITT
sent me up here, to check on you. He
was concerned.”
Shawn rubbed
her head and took two aspirin pills.
Kevin placed a
comforting hand on her shoulder. “Get
some more rest, Shawn, we can handle things for-“ Kevin was interrupted by the
telephone.
Shawn looked up
at Kevin as the phone rang.
0800 Hrs
Monroe,
Michigan
The scene was
all too familiar, police cars all over the area, a coroner’s van parked close
to a body, but a new addition: a mass media invasion. Satellite trucks were parked everywhere. Reporters were fighting with cops to get
into the crime scene.
KITT pulled up
to the crime scene, closely followed by a silver Oldsmobile Aurora. Both occupants of the cars got out, and
Agent Markins walked over to KITT.
“Welcome back,
Agent.” Shawn said. “I told you this
killer wouldn’t be down for long.”
“What do we
got?” Markins asked.
“I don’t know,
we haven’t gone to the body yet.” Shawn said, walking ahead.
“This way,
Agent McCormick.” A police officer said.
Markins turned
to Bonnie. “I don’t understand it, he
kills three women in 48 hours, and then shuts down for three weeks and sprouts
up again.”
“This man is a
certified psycho,” Bonnie said, “he is like a scratched CD, skipping from place
to place. We have no idea where he will
strike next.”
“What kind of
leads do you have?” Markins asked.
“The killer
wears a very rare type of hiking boots.
We’re checking records to see who bought them.”
“Same shit.”
Shawn said, walking back to them, with Kevin following.
“I ran a blue
light scan on site,” Kevin said, “she has the same marking on her cheek.”
“Jesus
Christ….” Markins said.
April 24,
2001
1729 Hrs
Knight Air
Transport
Location: Detroit Metro International Airport
Kevin looked
at the map on the wall which had six pins sticking out of it. The killer’s last strike happened in Bay
City, Michigan, and before that, Burton, Michigan. Kevin shook his head.
He walked over
to KITT, who was shut down while Bonnie was working on his systems.
“How’s it
going?” he asked Bonnie.
“Just fine,”
Bonnie said, “hopefully this will increase his connection speed to the
satellites.”
The phone
started ringing. “This is Kevin
Williams….. uh-huh….. okay….. where?!”
“He’s turned!” Kevin yelled to Shawn over the phone.
“Turned, what
do you mean he’s turned?!” Shawn said.
She was in Markins car coming back from the Bay City crime scene.
“He’s just killed someone in
Millston, Wisconsin.”
Shawn punched
up a map on the computer in the car.
“That’s along…. I-90. Oh shit,
that feeds right into Seattle!”
“What’s going
on?” Markins asked.
“The killer
has left his pattern and moved on to a different interstate. He’s just killed someone in Wisconsin.”
Shawn explained. She turned her
attention back to the phone call.
“Kevin, get the plane in the air, now!”
“What about you?”
“I’ll meet you
there.” Shawn said.
“Why did he
turn?” Markins asked. “Did we spook
him?”
Shawn looked
at the map. “No…. I don’t know. They’re gonna meet us in Wisconsin, so we
better get moving.”
“Good idea.” Markins
said, flooring the car and turning on the siren.
1749 Hrs
CDT
Millston,
Wisconsin
Bonnie leaned
over the body and snapped photographs.
When she was done, Kevin moved in and waved his portable black-light
over the body. The letters showed up on
the body’s cheek. Bonnie snapped
pictures of the JJF letters left by the body.
Shawn and
Markins arrived on the scene. Before
they could get out of the car, reporters were running up to them shouting
questions.
“Agent
McCormick! Is this recent killing by
the same suspect?”
“Why did the
suspect leave his path?”
“Do you know
who this man is yet?”
“What are you
and the FBI doing to stop this?”
“Where do you
think this killer will strike next?”
“Why are all
the victims female?”
“What do those
letters mean?”
“Is the
gasoline a clue?”
They ignored
the questions, pushing through the reporters and into the crime scene.
Shawn walked
up to the body that Kevin and Bonnie were examining. Kevin looked over at her and nodded.
“She’s number
seven.” Bonnie said, replacing the cloth cover over the body.
Shawn looked
around the scene. She watched the
reporters act like sharks in a sea full of raw meat. Until something caught her eye.
“Agent Markins.” Shawn said, keeping her eyes fixed on the thing.
“Yes?”
“See that cop
over there, with the red hair… he looks familiar.”
“I don’t
remember him from anything.”
“I…. I don’t
know where I saw him before…” she closed her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered open and shut, revealing that her eyes were
rolled back in her head. She was
searching her memory for the face she was looking at.
“Shawn?”
Markins asked.
Shawn’s eyes
opened. “He was at all of the crime
scenes.”
“How do you
know?”
“My memory
chip in my head. I remember now. He was at all of the crime scenes.”
“Who was?”
Bonnie asked, overhearing the conversation.
“That cop over
there,” Shawn said pointing.
The cop looked
over at Shawn, and saw her pointing in her direction and everyone looking. He dropped his flashlight and ran off.
“Oh shit.”
Shawn said, running after him.
Kevin started
to run after Shawn, but Bonnie stopped him.
“I got a better idea.” She said.
“Stop!” Shawn
yelled, running after the man.
The man kept
running, ignoring her screams.
KITT kicked up
gravel and stones as he spun out of the crime scene and onto the road. Bonnie was behind the wheel. “How’s the tracking?” she asked.
“Tracking is
fine, Bonnie.” KITT replied, displaying an overhead computer representation of
Shawn chasing the man.
“He’s
approaching a car.” Markins said, looking at the monitor from the backseat.
Shawn kept
running after the man who approached a late model Ford Taurus. “Don’t even touch that car, asshole!”
The man, of
course, ignored her, got in the Taurus and sped off.
Out of
nowhere, KITT screeched to a halt in front of Shawn. Bonnie got out and climbed into the backseat, and Shawn got in
the driver’s seat. She slammed the
accelerator before she could get the door closed.
“I think we
have our suspect.” Kevin said.
“Don’t jump to
any conclusions.” Markins said.
KITT’s
speedometer clicked as it kept going up.
He passed 120 miles-per-hour.
Shawn cut the
wheel to the right and sped down another road.
“What are you
doing?” Markins asked.
“I’m gonna cut
him off.” Shawn said.
“Shawn!!” KITT
yelled, alerting Shawn to a barrier in front of them.
Shawn plowed
through the barrier, sending wood flying everywhere.
“Well if that
didn’t stop us, that will!” KITT yelled.
Shawn looked
ahead and saw K-Rails stacked four high.
“Are we clear for Turbo Boost?”
“No! There is a parking lot on the other side!”
KITT said.
“Tough shit!”
Shawn yelled. “Hang on!” She pressed
the Turbo Boost button.
KITT launched
into the air and sailed over the K-Rails.
He handed on top of a car, shredding it into pieces. He tore through two more cars before
regaining control and returning to the road.
“Where is he?”
“We will meet
at this intersection.” KITT said, highlighting it on his center monitor.
Shawn sped
up. They approached the intersection
and the Taurus came from their left.
KITT plowed into the Taurus at full speed, ripping the front end
completely off. He slammed on the
brakes and spun around to face the crippled car.
Shawn opened
the door and ran over to the man, who was struggling to get out of the
Taurus. She grabbed him and pulled him
straight out the front windshield and slammed him on the ground. “Just who the hell are you?!”
The man was
visibly shaken and very nervous. He
handed her his wallet with his shaking hand.
“Rob…Ro…Robbie Jones… I… I… am… a... a… reporter.”
Bonnie walked
over, took the wallet and flipped it open.
“Robbie Jones, reporter for the Internet News Journal.”
Shawn looked
at Bonnie, and back down at the man. “What
the hell were you doing at those crime scenes?”
“Getting an
inside report.” Robbie said, calmer.
“You broke the
law by entering a crime scene, Einstein.
Not to mention you impersonated a police officer so you could get in
there.” Bonnie explained.
“I had to get
my story.” Robbie said.
“Yeah, well
now you can write a story about going to jail.” Shawn said.
Knight Air
Transport
2202 Hrs
CDT
Shawn looked
at the map marking the murders and shook her head. She stuck a pin into Millston, Wisconsin. She sat down inside KITT. “KITT, let’s have a look at the Internet
News Journal.”
“No problem,
Shawn.” KITT said, bringing the page up on the center monitor.
Shawn read off
the headers. “‘The Internet News
Journal, your official online connection to all of the events happening in the
world….’ Let’s see… ‘Feds and FLAG Play Catch-Up…’ uhh… ‘Knight Foundation
Rides on Killer’s Trail.’ Jesus, KITT,
this is sensationalism at its best.”
“Or its
worst.” KITT said. “Shawn, the page has
just been modified.”
“Refresh.”
A new page
came up, and Shawn’s mouth dropped open.
“‘Knight Foundation Nabs Reporter; Worst Error in Judgment Ever
Made. Earlier this evening, the
Foundation for Law and Government, captured Robbie Jones, a reporter here at
the INJ. FLAG, and the FBI, which
caught onto Jones’ reporting at the past crime scenes, chased him down,
destroying his car and assaulting him during arrest. Jones and the INJ have decided not to press charges….’” Shawn
trailed off. “Kill the site.” She said.
“What?” KITT
asked.
“You can block
any tracers, right?”
“Any and all.”
KITT said.
“Then kill the
site. I don’t wanna see this shit on
the web.” Shawn said.
“Okay, then
what if 60 Minutes does a story on us, do you want me to
kill Mike Wallace?”
“You can’t
kill anyone, KITT.” Shawn said.
“You knew
exactly what I meant.” KITT said, sternly.
Shawn got out
of the car and stretched. I’m sorry,
KITT. I’m just stressing out.”
“I know.” KITT
said, bringing a computer graph of Shawn’s vitals onto the screen. “Is there anything I can do to help at all?”
“No,” Shawn
said, “I dunno if we’re ever gonna catch this guy.”
“Me neither,
Shawn.” KITT said.
Shawn turned
around. “That’s the first time you
stopped thinking positive.”
“The facts are
laid out right here in front of me.” KITT said.
Shawn heard
the engines start up. Securing devices
automatically locked KITT into place, and the plane began to taxi. She plopped down into KITT’s seat. “Oh shit.” She said, rubbing her head,
wondering where the next murder is.
April 26,
2001
1219 Hrs
CDT
Minneapolis/St.
Paul International Airport
Shawn, Kevin,
and Bonnie stood on the tarmac and watched the small LearJet taxi to a
stop. The engines died down and the
door opened. Maddock walked out of the plane
with a briefcase in hand. In the
background, the Knight Air Transport 747 took off to fly to Detroit for
repairs.
“Welcome to
our personal hell.” Bonnie said.
“Where are we
headed?” Maddock asked.
“Worthington,
it’s in Nobles County.” Shawn said.
“Is our FBI
contact going to meet us there?” Maddock asked.
“Yeah.” Shawn
said, walking up the ramp and into the semi.
“Get comfy,”
Bonnie said, walking past them, “we got a four hour trip ahead of us.”
“Shawn, can I
talk to you for a second?” Maddock asked.
“Sure.” Shawn
said, walking into the lounge and closing the door behind them.
Maddock sat
down. “Shawn, I’m just letting you
know, that if we don’t see any progress made in this case after we investigate
this body, I’m handing it over to the FBI.”
Shawn sat
there for awhile. “And FLAG continues
to assist?”
“No,” Maddock
said, shaking his head, “FLAG is removed from the case altogether.”
“What?”
“We’re
draining our resources, our money-“
“Russ, just
stop, okay? Let’s…. let’s not talk
about this now.” Shawn said, getting up and walking out of the room.
Maddock
watched Shawn leave. He took out his
cell-phone and dialed a number.
“Federal Bureau of
Investigation.”
“This is
Russell Maddock of the Knight Foundation.
Who would I talk to about transferring a case?”
1619 Hrs
CDT
Worthington,
Minnesota
“First time
the body was dumped in a swimming pool.” Shawn said to Markins, as they walked
through a house. The poor person who
lived there had to deal with cops, and federal agents traipsing through her
house.
Kevin walked
up over to the pool and looked around.
“Hey, where’s the JJF?”
“In the pool.”
Bonnie said, looking over the edge of the above ground pool. The letters were floating on the water.
“Of course,”
Shawn said, “oil and water.”
“Where’s the
gasoline?” Shawn asked.
“I am detecting a large amount
of gasoline in the pool. The killer
obviously poured gas into the water.” KITT explained.
“What about
this mark on her cheek you guys kept telling me about.” Maddock said.
Kevin tied his
small black-light to a string, turned it on, and lowered it into the pool. The light revealed the markings on the
woman’s cheek. “You mean this mark?”
“Yeah.”
Maddock said. “Any ideas on what this…
JJF means?”
“Not a clue,”
Bonnie said, “but KITT has been checking some patterns and abbreviations.”
“I see.”
Maddock said, writing something down on a notepad.
“All right,
same deal as before. Agent Markins,
make arrangements for the body to be transported. Kevin, let the family know that they will have to relocate. Bonnie, work on the crime scene analysis
with KITT.”
Everyone
nodded and walked off to complete their tasks.
“See any progress yet?” Shawn said to Maddock and walking off.
1957 Hrs
CDT
Shawn walked
into the lobby and up to the front desk.
“Hi, I was told you have something for me here.”
The clerk
nodded and handed her a large envelope.
Shawn took the envelope and sat down in a chair. She opened it. It was the coroner’s report.
Her eyes glanced
over the report, and her memory chip memorized every bit of information she
saw. The style of murder was the same
as the last killings. The body was
identified and the family was notified.
Shawn put the
report back into the envelope and stared out the doors. Her glance was broken when Maddock walked
through the door.
“Ah, just who
I was looking for,” he said, not taking time to stop, “come with me please.”
Shawn got up
and followed him into the elevator. He
pressed a button and they rode up to the floor Maddock was staying on.
The doors
opened and Maddock walked out before Shawn, leaving her to follow behind.
Maddock opened
the door to his hotel room and sat his briefcase down. “I just came from a meeting with Natalie
Markins, our FBI contact.”
“And?” Shawn
asked.
"Shawn, I'm taking the
Foundation off of this case. The FBI is
taking over, and you are ordered to turn over all of the case related contents
of your lab over to them." Maddock said.
"What?! Why?" Shawn said.
"Shawn! We have eight dead women. You've been tailing this
killer for four weeks and haven't caught him yet! All you have is the
same clues that he leaves at the scene!"
"Russ, if we just give up now, we aren't going to stop him!"
"Shawn you have been following him and not stopping him! Take a look
at this!" Russ yelled, tossing a stack of newspapers to Shawn.
Shawn looked at the newspapers and read the headlines. Knight Foundation Falls Short.
Killer Eludes Knight Foundation, FBI. Killer's Pattern Changes, Knight
Foundation Still in Second Place.
"The media is ripping us to shred's Shawn." Maddock said, pointing a
remote control at his TV.
"We are in week four of the nationwide manhunt for the Initial
Killer. So far, this unidentified man has murdered eight women in the
states of Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota. Officials from the Knight Foundation and the
FBI continue to have an official 'no comment' on the case. Many speculate
their silence to be attributed to the fact that both organizations have so far
failed to catch the dangerous pattern killer."
Maddock turned off the TV before the reporter continued. He lowered his
tone and volume. "Shawn, we are this far from losing all of our
beneficiaries. This is a sour case and
we have to ditch it."
"I can't accept that." Shawn said.
"Well you damn well better accept it!" Maddock yelled. "This isn't an optional order where you
turn into Michael Knight, basically tell Devon to fuck off and go off on your
own vigilante case! This is a direct order, the Knight Foundation is
dropping this case."
Shawn rolled her eyes and started to walk out of the door.
"Agent McCormick!" Maddock yelled after her.
Shawn stopped but didn't turn around.
"If you go anywhere near this
case at all, I'll have your badge, is that understood? IS THAT
UNDERSTOOD?!"
Shawn turned her head. "Perfectly." She said, walking out the
door and letting it close behind her.
"I'm telling you guys, this
order is BS." Shawn said. "He
can't just pull FLAG off the case."
"Well he just did." Kevin said.
“We can’t just sit here and let
this guy kill until he gets bored. He
is following Interstate-90, which cuts right across the northern part of
America. Do you want to let this guy
murder his way through the northern states?!”
“Shawn,” Bonnie said, “it’s
hopeless. We flashed his picture all
over North America and he’s managed to elude us, the FBI, and local police.”
“So then tell me what we’re going
to do.” Shawn said.
Kevin and Bonnie sat silent. KITT’s scanner was the only thing moving in
the room.
“Ohh, I see,” Shawn said, “he came
to you first. He knew that I would come
to you guys.”
“Shawn…” Bonnie said.
“That son of a bitch!” Shawn said.
“Shawn, come on, think about it…”
“Forget it!” Shawn said, throwing
her hands up in the air and walking out of the room.
“Shawn…” Kevin said.
“Shawn, wait.”
Shawn ignored them and walked off.
“Damn.” Bonnie said.
“I’ll check on her tonight.” Kevin
said.
Bonnie bit her lip and nodded.
Later in the evening, Kevin walked
up the stairs and knocked on Shawn’s hotel room door. No one answered. “Hmm.”
Kevin said to himself. He looked into
the window and saw that the light was on, but the curtain was closed. He rang the buzzer again and waited.
Kevin’s impatience grew stronger
and he knocked on the door.
“Shawn?” He knocked on the door
again, harder this time. “Shawn!” He looked around and didn’t see anyone in
the area. “Shawn!” he yelled.
Kevin set down his backpack and
backed up. He kicked the door in. He pushed the door open and cautiously
walked inside. “Holy shit.” He said,
looking at the mess in front of him.
The furniture was over turned and out of place. It was the obvious signs of a struggle.
Kevin was in panic mode now. “Shawn!?
Shawn!?” he yelled, ripping through the suite. He opened the door to the bedroom and his mouth dropped open when
he looked inside.
“Oh my God…” he said, looking at
the disorganized bedroom. In a spot on
the floor which was purposely cleared out, he saw an all too familiar sign,
written in the oil compound, doused in gasoline, were the letters: JJF.
To be continued…
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Knight Rider 2000 Fan Fiction