Knight Rider 2000

No Beginnings

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

Follow Mr. X from his escape to present day and an endless month in 1999 as he was pursued by FBI Special Agent Natalie Markins…

Rated R for language, extreme violence and sexual situations.

September 12, 1999

1139 Hrs PDT

Erewhon Prison. 500 miles off the coast of California. It looked like an oil rig, but was far from being one.

One thousand federal inmates called this place home; a home of no escape.

There was no guard tower. No stockade. The warm, shark-infested waters of the Pacific Ocean surrounded the prison.

No inmate knew where he was. They were blindfolded before taking a long and noisy helicopter ride to their final destination.

The United States Government officially disavowed the prison. The only people who knew about it were its operators and inmates.

Wearing electronically magnetized boots, equipped with tracking devices, the prisoners were tracked by the guards who observed their every move. The boots supplied their own electromagnetic field, which secured the prisoners to the floor, but allowed for small steps and movements.

Baxter Lex, known to everyone as ‘Mr. X’ was sitting down in his cell, reading a book. The bulky and awkward boots were no matter to Mr. X.

Security meant nothing to him. In fact, he found the boots to be rather stylish, and deemed that they would look great with his navy-blue bulletproof vest.

Mr. X had been in prison since he was arrested in 1986 by the San Francisco Police Department, per the Foundation for Law and Government. First, he was in a maximum-security prison in Texas, but when this place went up in 1996, he was transferred. It was a long, hard, brutal, tiresome three years. Just how Mr. X liked a situation.

The day was same as the one thousand ninety days prior, but this day was special. This day was the day where everything would change for the best.

A mechanical buzz was heard as the cell door opened.

“Let’s go X. One hour break,” the guard said.

It was the only break that Mr. X got. He wasn’t too thrilled about the break because he didn’t care. Getting up in the clumsy, but stylish boots, he walked with the guard to join the other inmates, who were taking part in the Walking Circle, which provided the inmates with their daily exercise. He looked at the giant television screen, broadcasting the Discovery Channel.

Another inmate cut in line behind Mr. X. The nametag on his issued shirt read Slater. “So did you mail your letter out the other day?” he asked.

“Yeah.” simply said.

“Well, what’s the story? Is it going to get you out of here?” Slater questioned.

“I’m pretty sure it is.” X said.

X had managed to get a letter dropped into the outgoing mail bin. All inmates were prohibited from contact with the outside world, but the guards that were housed on the rig, had mail sent out daily. It wasn’t hard to manipulate a rookie and unsuspecting guard into dropping the letter.

“When?”

X looked back at Slater and smiled. “You’ll find out.” He then looked at the giant clock on the wall. It was ten till noon. As the line kept moving, X kept getting closer to one of the guards closest to him. It was the rookie guard who didn’t know better.

X despised people who could be manipulated. He was actually surprised he was able to sway this guard, mainly because all guards for this hellhole went through a rigorous training program.

He waited for the right moment, then knocked the guard to the ground and started hitting him in the face. The inmates around him started yelling and cheering. Another guard took out his ultrasound and fired it at Mr. X. The world around him went totally black.

When he opened his eyes he was sitting in a chair. The boots were removed, and there were several guards around him watching his every move. He realized this was the ECT chamber, where prisoners were administered shock therapy.

“It’s a real shame that the ECT malfunctioned and Mr. X was electrocuted, isn’t it?” A guard asked.

“It sure is.” Another guard replied, preparing the connectors for Mr. X.

Before the guard placed the helmet on X’s head, a loud noise was heard from outside the prison. The noise was almost deafening, even to Mr. X. He fought as hard as could to withstand the noise as the guards folded.

He put the rest of his energy into grabbing the guard and snapping his neck. He grabbed the guard’s Uzi and wasted no time in taking out the remaining guards in the room. The lockdown alarm went off as he took out the last guard.

It was just mere seconds before more men burst into the room. However, these men belonged to Mr. X. He eyed them and smiled. Good men. Good as money can buy. “Let’s go.” They all began to exit the room before X turned around. “Someone grab the boots.” He ordered.

It took no time for the men to reach the roof where a running Black Hawk helicopter was waiting. The helipad and other areas of the roof were strewn with dead guards.

Mr. X and his men climbed into the helicopter and it took off. X turned towards the window and smiled as he looked out. “Take me home.”

1412 Hrs EDT

Federal Bureau of Investigation

J. Edgar Hoover Building

Location: Washington, DC

Assistant Director James Raleigh walked down a corridor towards an office. In his hand was a red folder. He walked through the open door and tossed the folder on a desk.

“Got a case for you, Markins.” He said.

Natalie Markins looked up at the man through her reading glasses. “What is it, sir?”

The man seated himself on the corner of her desk. “Ever hear of a genius bomber named Mr. X?”

“Yeah, he detonated a few bombs at Disney World in 1986. Killed about a hundred people.”

Raleigh nodded. “He was busted by the Foundation for Law and Government shortly after the incident. Ever hear of them?”

Natalie shook her head. “No, sir.”

Raleigh nodded again. He always had the habit of nodding and then repeating his confirmation with a verbal answer. “I want you to rework his psych-profile for our agents in the field who are gonna be looking for him.”

“Looking for him?” Natalie asked.

“Yeah,” Raleigh said, “he escaped from Erewhon Prison about an hour ago.”

“Erewhon? You mean the disavowed prison that Amnesty International doesn’t know about?”

“And probably don’t want to know about it either.” Raleigh added.

“How did he escape?” Natalie asked.

“Apparently, he started a fuss with a guard that got him sent to the ECT chamber. He attacked another guard in the chamber, managed to kill every person in the room, and shot his way to the roof, where he boarded a helicopter and left.”

Natalie nodded, writing it down on a notepad. “Couldn’t they track the helicopter?”

“Of course not. It disappeared from radar and headed out towards the Pacific Ocean.”

“Towards the ocean?”

“That’s strange.” Natalie said. “Shouldn’t we contact FLAG?”

“That’s not necessary, we can handle it. Our field agents are going to be dispatched in the country to search for him. Everything about him is inside that folder.” He turned to leave, but Natalie stopped him.

“Sir. I can’t just sit behind a desk and rewrite a criminal profile.”

“Why? You write them from behind a desk.”

“True,” Natalie said, standing up, “but I need to rework it to see how this guy works. I need to be on the manhunt.”

“Out of the question.” Raleigh said, immediately.

“I can write profiles based on case reports, no problem, but without seeing how he works for myself, I can’t rewrite it while I am cooped up in Washington, sir.” She said, protesting.

Raleigh stood there thinking over his decisions. Damn it all, she was right. “All right. But no Jodie Foster shit. You’ll be teamed with the San Francisco office, that’s where he was arrested and where his mansion was located.”

“Thank you sir.” Natalie said, returning to her desk to prepare to leave.

1318 Hrs PDT

Mr. X walked through the doorway to his new house located right in the middle of San Francisco along Nob Hill. Mr. X always liked to believe that the best place to hide was where everyone can see him. He liked it that way. It gave him a sense of a challenge.

“This is nice,” X said, looking around at the house, “I could definitely retire here.”

“If you ever retire.” Eric Johnson said, standing in one of the hallways, with a cocky grin.

“Eric.” X said with an equally cocky grin.

“Great to have you back sir.” Johnson said, producing a navy-blue bulletproof vest from behind his back. “I figured this would suit you.” He said, moving out of the way of the men moving some things in. One of the men handed him the pair of boots Mr. X wore just hours earlier. Johnson was not prepared for the weight of the boots and he almost dropped them, on the three million dollar hardwood floor. “What the hell are these?”

“Style items which may be marketable. Put them somewhere on display.” Mr. X ordered.

Johnson carefully set them down and looked back at Mr. X. “Everything is equipped for your liking. We used about a quarter of the Disney World money to furnish everything you requested.”

“Very good,” X said, taking a look around.

“So what is our next move?”

“The Feds will be after me, that is a given. I figured they would so I came up with a plan.”

“Of course.” Johnson replied.

2028 Hrs PDT

The small Lear Jet registered to the FBI landed at San Francisco International Airport and taxied up towards the Executive Terminal.

Natalie exited the plane with her attaché case under her arm. A young man wearing a blue FBI jacket walked up to her. “Agent Markins?” he asked.

“That’s me.”

“I’m Agent Bentley from the San Francisco office. I was told to meet you here and bring you to headquarters, also get you up to speed on our leads.”

“Throw all your leads out the window Agent Bentley, they are all false.” Natalie said.

“Ma’am?” he asked.

“I read over the history on this guy,” she said, waving the old case report in the air, “he is great at covering his own ass and often tossed out false leads to sway investigators.”

“All right, then where do we start?” Bentley asked.

“Is this your car?” Natalie asked, walking over to a tan Crown Victoria.

“Yes.” He said, following.

Natalie got inside as Bentley hurried to follow. “We have to start over and begin to find out how this guy operates, how he thinks,” she said while fastening her seatbelt, “more importantly, think like him.”

“And how do we do that?” Bentley asked, driving out of the airport.

“We immerse ourselves so deep into the past of this guy, we feel like we’re becoming him.”

2032 Hrs PDT

Mr. X put the vest on and tugged at it. He had lost quite a bit of weight in Erewhon. “Believe it or not, I need to lay low for awhile. These agents now-a-day’s take no shit and aren’t loosey-goosie like they were 15 years ago. Besides, I need time to plan out things.”

Johnson was not surprised. Mr. X was always planning things. “What are you planning?”

“My come back party.” He said, smiling.

“Striking against the Foundation for Law and Government?”

“Of course, if they are still in business. What the hell has happened since I have been gone?”

“Plenty, sir. And yes, FLAG is back in business.”

“I didn’t even know they shut down.” Mr. X said.

“Yep, in 1991 or so.” Johnson replied.

“Wow. But they are back right?”

“Of course, in a sense. The Knight Industries 2000 is gone, and the 4000 model is close to completing prototype production. Devon Miles is still in charge, with a new right-hand man in training. Some District Attorney shithead named Russell Maddock.”

“So they’re kinda sitting on their asses and not driving around, huh?” Mr. X asked.

“Correct. Of course, soon enough, they’re going to be looking for a driver.” Johnson confirmed.

“Great. I have a plan, of course, for their first run in of fun. After the driver has a few months to get situated.”

“Do you care to tell me about this plan?”

“Of course, I am going to need you to secure most of the equipment anyway.”

Natalie and Agent Bentley were still on the road, en-route to the FBI San Francisco office. After re-reading the case file to Bentley, she eyed over what the San Francisco office had been working on since Mr. X’s escape.

“You’re going about this all wrong,” Natalie said, “we need to get you to see a new perspective.”

“All right,” Bentley said, “go for it.”

“Say you’re walking through a Bullseye-”

“Bullseye?” Bentley asked, confused.

“Yeah, you know, the store with the trendy commercials, white puppy dog with a bullseye over its eye?”

“Oh I gotcha.”

“Say you’re walking through the store in the shower curtain department. You pick up a CD. What CD do you find?” Natalie asked.

“Uhh… Eminem, the Marshall Mathers LP.”

“All right, you find an Eminem CD over in the bathroom department in the store. What does through your mind first?”

“Uhh… why is the CD there?”

“That’s a good start. What is the answer?”

“It was left by a customer.”

“Right,” Natalie said, “what else do you think about?”

“How did the CD get there?”

“Not bad, but we already determined that it was left by a customer, don’t you think that is the same question?”

“Well was it carried in the customer’s hand or a cart?” Bentley asked.

“Very good, now you are on the right track.” Natalie said.

“I would also wonder who listens to Eminem. Probably a teenager.”

“Possibly over 17. Most people know that Bullseye refuses to sell a CD that has explicit lyrics to anyone under 17.” Natalie added.

“And it could be closer to maybe someone who is 20-something, living by themselves looking for stuff for their apartment.” Bentley said.

“Very good,” Natalie said smiling, “and finally, why did they ditch the album?”

“Not enough money? Maybe there was something in the shower department that he really needed over a CD.”

“Could be. All of these conclusions we came up with are just assumptions. But it’s these kinds of assumptions that can lead us closer to our suspect, because it is the most logical assumption.” Natalie explained. “And that is how we have to be thinking when we’re on the tail of this asshole.” She said, poking Bentley in the chest.

Bentley nodded. This lady was smart. “All right.” He said.

“All right, AD Raleigh told me that Lex escaped in a helicopter from the prison. Why wasn’t it tracked on radar?”

“The helicopter quickly disappeared from radar screens and was seen headed out towards the Pacific Ocean.” Bentley explained.

“Right, but why in the hell go out further into the ocean?”

“Maybe his base of operations is out there?” Bentley asked, turning a corner.

“No way. Lex is useless in the ocean, he needs to have quick access to any target he eyes.” Natalie said.

“So maybe we should check San Francisco docks?”

“That could be a start,” Natalie addressed her new partner, “but that would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Agent Markins, you’re looking for a needle in a haystack!” one of the dock workers yelled at Pier 39. “We get hundreds of commercial and personal ships in and out of this whole stretch day after day.” He went back to his work and left Natalie and Bentley to themselves.

“What are we missing here?” Bentley asked.

“Good question. This has even me stumped.” Natalie said.

“Do you think he had a boat with helicopter landing capabilities?”

“Not likely,” Natalie said, “he escaped in a Black Hawk. That could flip most boats over, save for aircraft carriers.”

“Should we check Alameda? He was former military. Maybe he was buddy-buddy with a captain of a ship.” Bentley suggested.

“It’s not impossible,” Natalie said, “but let’s get to the office and learn more about this guy.”

September 16, 1999

0828 Hrs PDT

The waters were murky and cold, Johnson noted, as he took in oxygen from the breathing apparatus in his mouth. However, his three million candle-power underwater searchlight led the way for him and his men on their dive. Of course, the GPS unit mounted on the arm of his suit helped as well. The unit blinked a red light, which was their destination.

It was about fifteen minutes since they broke the surface of the water by one of the many cliffs bordering the Pacific Ocean near the Los Angeles area. Finally, the spotlight broke through the clouds and focused on an object.

It appeared to be grey metal with sea stuffs growing on it, but also remaining intact. Johnson could make two big doors on the object. One of them was sitting open, wrapped around the side, with the other still closed. What was left of a small computer lock, very outdated, was sitting on the door. Johnson was surprised at the shape of the trailer after all these years. The MBS had remained intact, and saved the trailer from any damage during the impact with the ocean and the rocks below.

The object Johnson was looking at was what was left of a trailer. But where was the cab? That was the part he was looking for. The GPS showed him to be right wherever the cab had landed at the bottom. Damn it all, he had to go looking for it now.

Or not. His attention was caught by one of the men assisting him. The man was pointing downward. Johnson looked in the direction and saw what appeared to be a tire. Moving closer, it was revealed to be the cab.

As with its trailer counterpart, the cab was still intact. He signaled a thumbs up to the other men that this is what they were looking for. However, the water did take its toll on some parts of the cab. The massive square grill was in pieces on the ocean floor, the truck’s tires were rotting, and served as a home or a playground for the fish.

The four extra men surrounded the cab and looked inside. It was somewhat of a grisly site as the crew of five looked in to see two skeletons. The remains were in bad shape, even for being reduced to skeletal. The force of the impact broke and shattered many bones, and reduced the occupant’s skulls to pieces. Not much was left of them. The passenger’s skull was crushed beyond the point of any recognition. If the crew didn’t know better, medically, they would have thought the passenger to be decapitated.

But it wasn’t the passenger that concerned Mr. X’s crew. The driver was the focus of this mission. Johnson nodded to the men as they began the tedious process to remove the driver’s remains from the cab.

1203 Hrs

“Guess what just came into our office.” Bentley said, smiling with a file folder in his hand.

“Humor me.” Natalie smiled back.

“A shop on the Wharf sold a whole lot of SCUBA gear a few days ago, and guess who was the buyer?”

“All these guessing games aren’t good for a criminologist.”

Bentley set the folder down on Natalie’s desk and opened it. “Sold to Lex’s right hand man.” He said, pointing to a black and white picture of Eric Johnson. “The store’s security cameras captured this image.”

“SCUBA gear? What the hell does Lex want with that?” Natalie asked.

“I don’t know, but he purchased fifteen thousand dollars worth of it.” Bentley said.

Natalie whistled. “Holy shit.”

“I think he is planning to go for a little swim.”

“What could he be after in the ocean?” Natalie asked.

“The Disney World money, perhaps?” Bentley asked.

“No, Lex is smarter than that. He would keep the funds in a place that we can’t find, but not impossible to access. He must have the money somewhere in a middle-east account.” Natalie said.

“There are a few middle-east accounts that the Bureau can’t gain access to. Most of the users are terrorists- foreign and domestic, and mafia based criminals.” Bentley said.

“What cities?”

“Mainly Beirut and Rhyadh.” Bentley replied.

“We need to get our people to do their damnedest to scour those accounts. This bastard is smart enough to know we can’t possibly touch those accounts.”

Johnson walked into the basement where Mr. X was working on a bomb. “The remains have been retrieved.”

“Good.” X said, not looking up from his soldering. “The driver only, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Johnson replied, holding up a still drying duffel bag. “Where do you want them?”

Mr. X was silent as he fixed a wire to the detonator. He looked up at the literal bag of bones. “Take them below to the sub-basement, that is where our research and project will soon begin.”

“Great to hear,” Johnson said, “and when do we secure the doctors?”

“Soon, Johnson, quite soon. We first need the technology, which is what this little beauty is for,” X said, pointing to his bomb, “How is the crew coming along with the lab in the sub basement?”

“They’re working hard. It should be finished soon.”

“Good.”

“How long will this project take?”

“I don’t know,” X said, “I’ve never cloned anything before. Let alone an entire human being.”

“Is it even possible?” Johnson asked.

“Of course it is. They’re cloning sheep with no problems. The technology exists,

Johnson, but people are afraid to harness it. Moral issues and shit like that.”

“Check this out,” Bentley said, picking up a folder that a secretary left on his desk. “It turns out Lex did some more time than we thought.”

“Where?” Natalie asked.

“Juvenile Hall. We got his Juvy records unsealed. Lex did time in Adobe Mountain Detention Center for five years for shooting a man.”

“How the hell old was he?” Natalie asked.

“He was thirteen. Here’s how it went down. Lex was in a verbal argument with a bully at his high school, well until the bully hauled off and punched him. Lex just stood there and took the punch. He turned around and began to walk away when the bully asked him if he was going to fight back. Lex replied ‘I don’t fight back,’ and turned around and shot the kid in the neck with a .32.”

“Holy shit.”

“The kid lived, which is what left Lex with such a short time in Juvy. He was paroled just a few weeks before his 18^th birthday, which would have required his transfer to prison. Guess who arranged for his parole?”

“His hot shot lawyers bought by daddy?”

“Exactly.” Bentley said.

“What have you found out about his father?” Natalie asked.

“His name was Giovanni Lex and was one of the hot shot mercenaries in the country up until his death in 1979.”

“1979? Lex was… 19, right?”

“Yeah. He was killed in an FBI raid when he was caught in a sting.”

“And in the case report from FLAG, it said that Lex was seeking revenge on the government for killing his father, and against his ex-wife.” Natalie said.

“This is crazy.” Bentley said.

“Lex is driven on revenge, it’s his only reason to get up in the morning. His escape from Erewhon means he is coming back and planning something big. Which means we have to find him before he hits again.”

“I think we need to intercept his right hand man.” Bentley suggested.

“Do you think he will lead us to him?”

“Probably not,” Bentley said, “but what do we have to lose by trying to talk to him?”

“Our lives… field agents…” Natalie said.

“What about Eric Johnson. What do we have on him?”

“Nothing except a name,” Natalie said, looking at the computer screen and adjusting her glasses, “it’s in with Lex’s file as he was captured shortly after Lex was.”

“What were the charges?”

“Mainly conspiracy and collaboration charges.” Natalie read. “He went to a maximum security prison in Terra Haute for awhile and was released about a year ago.”

“And no doubt busted Mr. X out of the un-escapable prison a few days ago.” Bentley added.

“But I wouldn’t call him the brains of the outfit.” Natalie said.

“Just an errand boy, huh?”

“Exactly.” Natalie confirmed. She looked at the report with Johnson’s picture on it and got an idea. “Was it mentioned in the report from the dock if Johnson paid cash or any kind of charge?”

“Uhh, no.” Bentley said looking through his copy of the report.

Natalie got up and grabbed her coat and sunglasses. “Good, let’s go.”

Bentley was chomping down on a hot dog as Natalie talked to the shop owner.

“Yeah,” the owner said, “the guy paid with a credit card. I remember it because, well first, no one buys fifteen thousand dollars worth of SCUBA gear. I asked him what he needed it for, you know? He said he was just going into his own backyard! I asked if his backyard was the God damn bay, ya know? He handed me the card, oh yeah, that’s how I remember the card, it had weird writing on it, but it had the Visa logo, so what the hell, I take any thing Visa, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Natalie said, looking behind her to find the Visa logo in the window. “Go on.”

“All right, so I swipe the card and the transaction goes through, no big deal. He gives his John Hancock and leaves with his shit.” The owner continued.

“Can we have the records of the transaction?” Bentley said, when he finished his lunch.

“Yeah, no problem.” The owner said opening up the drawer. “Who is this guy, some fugitive?” the owner asked while he was ruffling through the drawer.

“Nah,” Natalie lied, “just a guy we’re keeping tabs on. No big deal.”

“Hey if this guy is some big asshole, I’m not going to be held to anything am I?”

“Of course not.” Bentley replied.

“Good.” The owner said, pulling out a small piece of paper. “Here’s the credit slip. Lemme make a copy for ya.”

“Great, thanks.” Natalie said to the man’s back as he disappeared towards the back area.

“Any plans on what to do once we find out the address?”

“Go get him, of course.” Natalie said.

“Got questions for him?”

“A whole damn list.” Natalie replied.

The vulgar salesman returned from the back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Here ya go, agents.”

Natalie took the paper and walked out the door.

Bentley threw away his hot dog wrapper and left behind her. “She says thank you.” He said before he walked out the door.

1902 Hrs PDT

Hope Street and Cervantes Boulevard

Natalie closed her eyes for a minute and listened to the sound of the light traffic passing her on the road. She was with Bentley, apparently her new partner, parked outside of the address they got from the credit slip for Eric Johnson.

“You think he is going to show?” Bentley asked.

“Probably.” Natalie replied.

“Think he might give us some answers?”

“Hopefully.”

“If we bury him ass up can I park my bike?”

“Yeah.” Natalie said. There was a moment of pause before she looked at him. “What?”

Bentley laughed. “What’s with the one word answers?”

“I’ve never been good with stakeouts when we’re just sitting here. I’ve never been a social group person.” She said, sighing.

“Why not?”

Natalie shrugged. “I’ve always been pretty much the exile with friends and even family. I never had many friends through school or college. When I got to the Academy, I had one good friend who was in it with me the whole time.”

“What was their name?”

“Julie Allison.” Natalie said. “Julie and I were top notch. I guess we were kind of inspired by The Silence of The Lambs, our favorite movie. Heh, AD Raleigh told me ‘no Jodie Foster shit’ while I was out here with you.”

Bentley laughed again.

“She wanted to be a field agent in NYC, and I wanted to stay with the home base in DC. She was pretty much my only friend…”

“You know, Nats,” Julie said, knowing that Natalie hated the nickname of Nat, “I’m thinking we need to do something wild after graduation.”

“Yeah, if we make it to graduation.” Natalie said, writing furiously on a piece of paper.

“Of course we will! You and me! Always.” Julie assured.

Natalie nodded and smiled. “Any ideas?”

Julie stopped and thought. “How about throwing a big post grad party and getting wildly drunk?”

“Sounds good to me,” Natalie said, “of course that’s gonna be a pipe dream unless you finish that report of yours.”

“You kidding? I got mine done already.”

Natalie looked at Julie with a look of shock. “No fair! I’m only half done on mine.”

Julie smiled. “Quick to finish, quick to party.”

The two women suddenly jumped when they heard gunshots.

“What the hell was that?!” Natalie yelled.

“I have no idea.” Julie said, standing up. She walked over to the door and opened it. Their fellow classmates were running down the hall towards the staircases.

“Gunshots! Gunshots!” people were yelling as they ran down the hallway.

“Natalie!” Julie yelled.

“Markins!” Bentley yelled, snapping Natalie out of her story, “There he goes.” Bentley said, pointing to Johnson crossing the street.

“Let’s go.” Natalie said, starting the car and gunning the engine.

Bentley grabbed the red bubble light and stuck it on the middle of the dashboard.

Johnson looked behind him and saw the tan Crown Victoria speeding towards him. He took off running and jumped into his black Jeep Wrangler.

“Hope the shocks on this thing are good.” Natalie said, speeding after Johnson.

The cars sailed over their first hill and landed with sparks, as they sped down the steep street towards the bay. Johnson cut the wheel to the left and gunned the engine, bringing the small Jeep to close to 110 miles per hour. Considering it was late at night, most of the roads were empty. A good thing too, considering that how the two cars were driving, any car would be considered open season for getting ran off the road.

Natalie had the pedal to the metal as she focused on the road and trying to keep up with Johnson.

Johnson turned left again and sped up a hill. The grade of the hill was of no concern, as the Jeep blasted up the hill at 90 miles per hour. Natalie’s Crown Victoria followed quickly around the same pace.

A congested area on the road caused Johnson to swerve onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians scrambled and ran to avoid being struck by the Jeep.

“Holy shit.” Natalie said, following the Jeep onto the sidewalk.

“Do we need backup?” Bentley asked.

“No, we’re fine!” Natalie yelled as she got back onto the road.

Johnson barreled ass through a red light and across a field until he found himself within the arches of the Palace of Fine Arts. Late-night walkers ducked out of his way as he tore up the grass and cobblestone.

Natalie followed his path from the road. “He’s crazy!”

“We need backup, Natalie!” Bentley yelled.

“Forget backup! This guy is mine!” Natalie yelled, accelerating to catch up when Johnson returned to the road.

He turned onto a road and sped onto the Golden Gate Bridge.

“If he gets to the other end he can lose us.” Bentley said.

“He isn’t losing us. I’m going to speed up and block him.”

Natalie gunned the engine and began to catch up with the Jeep. Right when she was close to 10 feet from the rear bumper, Johnson slammed on the brakes and spun around in the road.

“Shit!” Natalie yelled, cutting the wheel to avoid colliding with the Jeep. The Crown Victoria hit the side rails of the bridge and sparks flew before she regained control and turned around on the road, chasing Johnson, who was now going the wrong way.

Johnson was on his toes now. He hadn’t expected to be going the wrong way on the damn Golden Gate Bridge. There were few cars to dodge, but those who had to get out of his way wasted no time in screaming obscenities and using hand gestures. His cell-phone started ringing. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got you on GPS,” Mr. X said, “head towards the Embarcadero and get into the BART system.”

“Can I lose them in the subway?”

“When I turn the tunnels into tubes of flame, you can.”

Johnson hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. It bounced and landed in the foot-well. Upon exiting the bridge and barely missing a van, he floored the Jeep to 110 miles per hour and hauled ass to the Embarcadero.

Natalie was barely able to make it off the bridge without hitting the van Johnson just missed. She clipped the side of the van but sped on, almost spinning out trying to get behind Johnson again.

“This fool is going to kill someone.” Bentley said.

A car was in Johnson’s path as he left the road and cut over on the grass to get back onto Bay Street so he could get to the Embarcadero quickly. “Oh shit!” he yelled as he saw a car accident blocking the road up ahead. Running out of options, he held on and turned right, barely missing a tree. More cars honked at his erratic behavior. Looking in the mirror, he saw the agents in the Crown Victoria still in pursuit.

A street sign caught his eye and Johnson made a split second left turn, cutting off a milk truck.

“What street is that? What street is that?” Natalie demanded.

“Uhh… it’s Lombard.” Bentley said.

“Oh shit.” Natalie said.

“What.”

“He’s going to try to lose us.”

“How?”

“Lombard Street, you moron! It’s that God damn winding street!”

“Oh great.” Bentley said. “Should we try to go around?”

“No, we can’t go to another block, he might lose us.”

“I don’t expect him to slow to five miles per hour to get down the street.”

“Me neither.” Natalie said, shaking her head.

“Well can we make it in this thing?” Bentley asked.

“Damned if I know! We’ll find out.”

Johnson ignored the signs alerting him to the curves and the grade. He hit the four-wheel drive button and floored it. The Jeep was sent airborne upon reaching the downgrade. About halfway down the hill, the Jeep hit the road, bouncing along violently and tearing over the shrubs and bushes in the middle of the curves. A final bounce sent the Jeep partially airborne again, but quickly returning it to terra firma. Once on the normal road, Johnson floored it again towards his destination.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Bentley said.

“Here we go!” Natalie yelled, slamming on the accelerator. The Crown Victoria was launched into the air as well, but hit the ground sooner. Upon hitting the first curb, the front bumper was completely sheared off and the pursuit sedan was sent slightly airborne. The ride down the hill was much violent for the car’s occupants since it sat so low to the ground. It hit most of the curbs spearing the curves and crunched the front of the car like it was a piece of paper.

When the car finally hit the normal road, the front end looked like an elephant sat on it a few times. Natalie was surprised the engine was still running. She slammed on the accelerator again and quickly sped after Johnson.

“Holy shit!” Bentley said.

“I’ll be damned!” Natalie exclaimed in reply.

“Not every pursuer would do that every day!”

Johnson bounced over the cable-car tracks as he turned onto Columbus Avenue. A delivery truck swerved out of his path and hit a fire hydrant. Water blasted up from the destroyed hydrant offering a shower to the street and its pedestrians.

The cell-phone rang again. Johnson searched to find where the ringing was coming from. He saw the light coming from the passenger foot-well and bent over to pick it up, moving his eyes off the road.

A blaring horn quickly caught his attention as he looked back up to the road and saw a Land Rover heading towards him. He grabbed the wheel and quickly cut it so he could get out of the way. He didn’t see the mailbox on the sidewalk as he plowed straight through it, sending the blue box airborne and then crashing onto the street.

Natalie swerved to avoid the new objects on the road.

“He’s racking up federal offenses now.” Bentley said.

“No shit. He is going to kill someone.” Natalie said.

“What the hell is going on?!” X yelled into the phone.

“I’m trying to lose this bitch and stay alive! I’m not too far from the Embarcadero, I’m turning on California Street. Now tell me how the hell I’m supposed to lose these people in a subway when you blow it the fuck up?!” Johnson yelled.

“Is he on a cell-phone?” Natalie asked.

“It looks like it.”

“He’s gotta be talking to Lex.”

“What makes you so sure?” Bentley asked.

“He hardly does shit without Lex knowing or telling him to do so.” Natalie stopped. It hit her all at once. “He’s trying to lead us away from Lex. To throw us off our path!”

“So do we discontinue pursuit?”

“There’s still a chance we can get him.”

“You’re still about a minute or so ahead of them. When you reach the Embarcadero Station, go down to the MUNI level and hop onto an eastbound train. I’ll know once it is clear of the station. Get off at whatever station you wish and come back here. Simple as that.” X said, hanging up before Johnson could say anything.

Johnson could see the Embarcadero sign approaching quickly. He blew through a red light and screeched to a halt in front of the elevator leading down to the station. He jumped out and pushed through some people as he ran down the escalator. He checked his watch. The next MUNI train whould be ready to pull out of the station in a few minutes.

“Shit, he’s in the subway!” Bentley said.

“Call BART and MUNI and tell them to shut down all service.” Natalie ordered. She stopped the car in the street and got out, quickly drawing her FBI issue handgun.

Johnson rode the escalator down to the concourse level. He looked for the other escalator and saw workers standing on it, trying to fix some kind of a problem. He dashed over to the elevator as it was about to close. “Hold the doors!” he yelled.

A man held the doors for Johnson as he hopped inside. “Ya just made it there, partner.”

Johnson managed to mutter a thank you as the elevator went down one more level. It wasn’t quick enough, he noted. When the doors opened he dashed out and eyed the MUNI train closing its doors. He pushed people out of his way, knocking an old couple to the platform floor, and knocked a young girl out of his way as he slid into the train just before the doors closed.

“That’s right,” Bentley yelled into the radio, “stop all trains!”

“Agent Bentley, we can’t stop trains where they sit. We have to bring them to a station.”

“Fine! Just stop the God damn trains!”

As a BART train was leaving on the third level, a trashcan started beeping. A station agent walking by heard the beeping and took the top off to find out what was making that noise. He expected to find some kid’s toy or a cell-phone accidentally thrown away. What he didn’t expect was a massive explosion that reduced his body to shreds.

The blast pulverized the BART platform and successfully brought down the MUNI platform on top of it. Flames shot up the holes created by the explosion and destroyed the concourse level, sending it plummeting two levels down to what was left of the BART level.

Passengers not lucky enough to have been killed by the blast were sent with the concourse and MUNI levels to the flaming abyss below.

The explosion finally ruptured the street level, sending concrete and bricks up into the air and back down on the bystanders. A large piece of concrete fell on Johnson’s Jeep Wrangler.

Natalie and Bentley ducked behind their beat-to-shit Crown Victoria as the explosion devastated the area.

It was pure chaos on the streets. Everyone was running around and screaming. People were on fire, trying their hardest to douse the flames. Natalie and Bentley kept their guns trained, but without a target.

Natalie looked at the devastation. Things seemed to be going in slow motion for her. Bentley looked like he was spazzing out… spinning around a bunch of times with his gun ready at a moment’s notice. He must have thought there were snipers around. But Natalie knew this was definitely Lex, to cover up the tracks of his errand boy.

Bentley ran over to their car and grabbed the radio and began screaming information and orders back to headquarters.

The MUNI train was unscathed from the explosion as Johnson sat back as it rode along the track. He felt the train slowing down and eventually coming to a stop. He looked at a sign outside and noted that he stopped at the Montgomery Street Station. Before the doors opened, the train operator came on the intercom and informed them of the explosion at the Embarcadero Station.

Johnson noted the statement, allowing a small smile to form on his lips. He exited the station via the escalator and wondered where the hell it was when he needed it at the Embarcadero. He hailed a passing taxi and gave the driver his destination. The taxi pulled onto the street as police cars, fire trucks and ambulances passed him on the road headed towards the Embarcadero.

2119 Hrs PDT

“What part of no Jodie Foster shit did you not understand?!” AD Raleigh yelled over the speakerphone. “You’re lucky that shit didn’t bring down the whole Embarcadero!”

“With all due respect, sir, I wasn’t the one who detonated the bomb.” Natalie said.

“I know that! You provoked Eric Johnson into a chase, allowing Lex an opportunity to show how powerful he is-”

“Sir, I still believe we’ve got the upper-hand-”

“Agent Markins, forty-five people died in that explosion tonight! You call that the upper-hand?!”

The door opened and Bentley walked in with a bag. He held up a dusty cell-phone.

Natalie stared at it with a smile on her face. “Sir, I believe I have just found our upper-hand.” She said, hanging up the phone.

“That was your AD wasn’t it?” Bentley asked.

“Yeah.” Natalie replied.

“Well along with the good news comes bad. Our agents searched Johnson’s apartment. It was empty except for his copy of the credit receipt.”

“Shit.”

“But we have his cell-phone.”

“Damn right. Do you think the labs can trace the calls placed?”

“Hell yeah.” Bentley replied, grinning.

“You know how to use this shit?” Natalie asked, looking around the empty lab. Hardly anyone was in the federal building around midnight.

“Yeah,” Bentley said, typing on a computer, “I messed around with this kind of stuff in the academy. It was gonna be my field before I changed to anti terrorism.”

The cell-phone was hooked into the computer and Bentley was looking around its internal programs and memory. “All right, this number appears twice, both incoming calls to Johnson’s cell. 415-555-1138.” Bentley read.

“It just came up like that?”

“Well no. It was blocked by caller ID, I just had to use our systems to unblock it.” Bentley said with a smile.

“Nice work. Can we find an address?”

“You know, I hope you will never have to work with a genius,” Bentley said, “I’ve already activated the tracing program. We should have an address soon.”

“Good.” Natalie said.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Bentley broke it. “That was a hell of a chase, wasn’t it?”

“It sure was.” Natalie replied, taking her glasses off to rub her eyes.

“You never finished your story.” Bentley said.

“What? Oh… You don’t wanna hear the rest of it.”

“No, no. Go on.” Bentley encouraged. “I want to know more about you.”

Natalie closed her eyes. The gunshots echoed in her mind as if they were yesterday…

“Gunshots! Gunshots!” people were yelling as they ran down the hallway.

“Natalie!” Julie yelled. “What the hell is going on?!” Julie asked a classmate.

“There’s a gunman on the floor!” the classmate said, running away.

“Markins, move it!” Julie yelled, running out the door.

Natalie quickly ran after. She couldn’t believe that gunmen had penetrated the security at Quantico. The two women were only two months from graduation, and now they were thrown into a hostile situation, far too early.

“I don’t see anyone!” Natalie yelled.

“Let’s just get out of here!” Julie replied.

The two classmates quickly came to a walk and turned a corner.

“Did you get a look at him?” Natalie asked.

“No,” Julie replied, “did you?”

Natalie shook her head. The two of them slowly walked down a staircase. “This is bad.” She said.

“We’ve been trained for this,” Julie said. “The only thing different is that we don’t have any guns.” She said, as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Out of nowhere, an arm appeared and fired three shots in her chest.

Julie was thrown back onto Natalie, who fell onto the stairs. “Julie!”

The gunman ran out a doorway. Natalie was stunned, holding her classmate on the stairs.

The blood gushed out of Julie’s wounds. She was dead in a matter of seconds.

Natalie’s head snapped up as she heard more gunfire outside. The door slammed open again. ‘This is it,’ she thought, ‘he’s come back to finish me.’

But, rather than an armed criminal, five armed FBI agents ran into the room, quickly scrambling to secure it...

Natalie opened her eyes only to see a blurred image of Bentley and the empty lab. “What the hell?”

Bentley gently leaned forward and wiped the tears coming off of her cheeks. Natalie never noticed that she was crying.

“I can’t believe I was crying.” Natalie said, wiping more tears away. “It’s been so long… I really… really don’t know what it felt like.”

“To cry?”

Natalie nodded, sniffing as the tears caused her nose to run.

“I’m sorry.” Bentley said, placing his hand on hers.

“I know. I am too. Thank you for your compassion.”

“I never had to lose a partner like that. I don’t know how I would feel if I did.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to trust anyone but yourself,” Natalie said, “When Julie died, I never trusted another person with my life. Nor did I let myself take another person’s life into my own hands. Having a partner… well, not willing to trust landed me a desk job as a criminologist. I’d go out into the field, take a few shots, survey a crime scene, and then come back and work magic from behind a desk. My profiles and insight to see into a criminal’s mind found kids, hostages… you name it. I guess you can say, on my reviews, under ‘ability to work with others’ it’s a zero. Or close to a negative number.”

Bentley remained silent, letting Natalie gather her thoughts.

“You got a first name, Bentley?”

“Daniel.” Bentley replied quickly.

“Thanks Daniel.”

“For what?’