Very Early Friday Morning: Capturing Thermond

She shakes her head once at the paranormals as she clicks on her radio. "All available agent teams, scramble to SFO, D Gate. That's international flights. Airport Authority's already been notified to use caution, and flights have all been suspended pending detailed searches of the cargo manifests and passenger lists. They may notice something's up, so use supreme caution. There may be g-men there, too, so watch out for the softies." To Odyssey and Protector, she says, "Come with me. Thermond has flown the coop, and looks like he's heading back to France. Agent Ralston?"

A dark-haired man in street clothes nods as he opens the Buick's door for Odyssey, and says, himself getting into the car, "Thermond was here all right, even registered at the hotel under the same name. We'd had a tip from one of the Specter's men, and were already checking the place out when Silver Avenger Chow called it in."

"I should have gone with my first instincts," Odyssey mutters, climbing into the vehicle. "Never trust a Frenchman in matters of love or cults. Isn't that how the saying goes. It's good that Specter checked Thermond out. I wonder where the 'dark ghost' is....."

Kestler guns the Buick into early morning traffic, and Ralston continues, absently smoothing his short, thinning hair. "Looks like we missed him by about a half hour. He must have had warning of some sort. The hotel hadn't been notified that he was leaving tonight, and he hadn't packed -- clothes are still all here, but he's taken the rest. We called the airport, and the authorities there have been alerted. We're not sure if he has a private jet here or not -- there's nothing under his name, anyway."

Kestler jams onto the freeway at record speed, and easily swerves around Nevada tourists doing 50 mph on the 101 South. "What does this idiot think this is, a two-lane rural road? This is not Highway 50!" Odyssey says, shooting a dirty look at the Nevada tourists driving an Altima. "I betcha they're lost and worried that they're going to be mugged. On a highway no less. What do they think this is - L.A?"

It's only a few minutes before she's at the San Bruno Exit East, to the airport – she must have been doing 95, if she was driving a mile per hour, Odyssey thinks with a slight smile. A native Californian for sure.

Once at the airport, it's a mad dash to the international gate, on the west side of the circular building. Dashing through the inside, Protector looks outside just in time to see an airport shuttle on the outside of the building being commandeered by a team of blue uniformed PRIMUS agents as they make their way towards the gate as well.

"What's the situation?" Ralston asks an unknown fellow agent via their radios as he jogs along. "Uh-huh. Right-o. We're almost there -- we've just passed the E junction. No, we couldn't park right in front. It's closed for construction. Yeah, I know. OK, we're just about there."

"That does it," Odyssey says, scooping up her skirts and showing quite a bit of leg when she does it. "As soon as this case is done with I'm getting a new costume. One that I can run in. This one can be saved for formal appearances. Besides, this thing will probably get me on the "The Observer's" worst dressed list. I saw how they skewered that healer in New York. Sports bra - they said she needed a sports bra. Can you imagine?"

Dodging a gaggle of Delta flight attendants, the normally dapper Dr. Tyler McBain is weary and looking like he could use both a shower and three days of uninterrupted sleep. At least they let me upgrade to first class on this flight, he thinks. I don't think I could have stood another six hours of the rosary.

Yawning, he steps out into the main concourse, when he suddenly flings himself backwards, reflexively, as a large black man in an Armani suit -- he's perhaps 6'6 tall, McBain estimates, and between 300 to 400 pounds of solid muscle -- barrels through the flight attendants, sending them flying in all directions. "There he is!" McBain hears a woman's voice shout. "There's Thermond!" 'That sounds a lot like Odyssey,' he thinks, before looking up and seeing her teleport directly in the path of the man and let loose a blast of golden energy. Protector leaps forward and cracks him under the chin. Thermond's head snaps back as blood flies from his mouth, and despite his obvious bulk, he crumples to the ground.

"Wow," Odyssey says, looking slightly stunned at Protector. "Did you box in college?"

"Whew!" Odyssey says, assisting the flight attendants to their feet and healing their minor injuries. "No, miss, I really can't heal broken nails. Sorry," she explains to one. "No, you can't buy this outfit at The Gap," she says, rolling her eyes.

Agent Terry Kestler binds Thermond with her bola gun. Agent Ralston runs up, slightly behind her, and slightly out of breath. "They've found the hostages," he beams. "They were in the cargo hold of a plane on its way to Brazil," he explains.

"Terrific! Have you called it in yet?" she asks.

Ralston nods, then contemplates Thermond's prone body. "I'll be damned," the older agent mutters.

"What?" she asks.

Ralston shakes his head, a shocked expression on his face. "Do you know who that is, Terry?"

Agent Kestler looks confused. "Yeah, it's the guy who sent the nasty cultists to steal the book and who owned the evil house. He's the reason why I've gotten three hours of sleep since Sunday, why?"

Ralston rolls his eyes. "He's also Jean Thermodier," he says. "The UNTIL Commander who defected --"

"To become part of the Haitian government under Baby Doc," Kestler finishes for him. "Not only that -- I remember this briefing now -- but he did well for himself, even after the coup. But when US forces arrived a while back, he split. And he's been suspected in VIPER in this area for some time, too. Had a name and the whole bit – called himself the Overseer. He had been laying low for a while." She grins. "Oh, boy, but Maria's gonna love this one."

The hostages are led out to waiting ambulances, and all are accounted for. Carol is one of the first to be attended to -- she has a nasty gash on her forehead, and is wearing a stained blue flannel shirt and a pair of boxer shorts -- as Protector well knows, that's her studying outfit, and what she was kidnapped in. Looking up from the EMT who is helping her, she sees Protector. Surreptitiously she winks and gives him a thumbs-up, before allowing herself to be escorted into an ambulance.

"Wait -- I thought there were two groups at work here?" Odyssey asks Kestler, as they follow the PRIMUS and FBI agents carrying Thermond's prone body out of the airport and into waiting Sherman. "That's what we'd discovered earlier."

Kestler nods. "One of the cultists has been very cooperative," she says, sipping her coffee (she just "Can't pass up Starbucks," she had explained to Odyssey as she dashed over to pick up a double mocha). "According to him, Thermond, or Thermodier, had figured out a way of binding different types of spirits to him, and to get them to do his bidding. Of course -- and I'm not saying I really am believing all of this, but it is a good working theory -- there are different types of spirits, and they would have different types of methods, too."

"Did he say if the kidnap victims were spell components?"

"Actually, your friend Ralph was right about that -- they are needed to complete some sort of great summoning. They were going to use the house to do it -- according to Achmed, or whatever his name is – they actually did perform a part of the ceremony there, and ended up with that big worm thing. The scholar whose body was found at the site was one of the people kidnapped, since he could interpret the book -- apparently hieroglyphics weren't his only specialty -- and he just didn't have the stamina. They all bailed out of there when they realized that they hadn't summoned whatever flavor of demon they were hoping for."

"Great - Ralph was right," Odyssey says, a slight smile playing across her lips. 'I'm never going to hear the end of this. It'll be one more reminder of how we 'kids' don't know anything about fighting evil these days." She pauses, thinking back over the week's events. "Poor Peter, too much knowledge actually lead to his death..."

"Great - Ralph was right," Odyssey says, a slight smile playing across her lips. 'I'm never going to hear the end of this. It'll be one more reminder of how we 'kids' don't know anything about fighting evil these days." "One thing is odd," Kestler adds. "Achmed didn't have a clue about the Expressionist artists. It seems to be totally unrelated."

"It confirms my theory on Expressionism. It just doesn't make any sense," Tyler McBain states as he walks up sipping on a Starbuck's latte.

"Dr. McBain," Kester regards the scientist with a neutral expression. "What an odd coincidince to find you here. Just what are you doing here, sir?" she asks. Her manner, which in previous meetings had been friendly, is now one of cold civility.

"I've been out of town since Monday," McBain explains. "I just arrived on Delta flight 634."

"I see. Please wait here," she says, pulling out her radio. She steps out of earshot, though McBain perceives a minute gesture, made with her right hand. Immediately, several uniformed PRIMUS agents step into view, in an alert manner.

Protector, aware that McBain is really Knightblade, is puzzled, but is inclined to believe Kestler knows what she's doing - she's a government agent, after all. He waits.

Tyler acknowledges the PRIMUS agents' reaction with a shoulder sagging sigh. Great - he thinks to himself - what have I walked into this time? Well, at least there's no one in immediate hearing distance.

"Yeah, I guess that armor exhibit has suffered from your moonlighting," Tyler says in a low voice with a slight smile and a wink. "Sorry I disappeared on you, but I had a family emergency. I did try to call. I brought you a present back. You 'Odyssey' it," he adds wearily but with a touch of his old humor.

He takes a drink of the coffee, and his eyes appear to refocus for a second. It seems to be all he can do just to stand here.

After five minutes, the PRIMUS agent returns. "OK, your story checks out, Dr. McBain." she says. "You're free to leave."

Tyler sighs, looks the agent square in the eyes, and says in a low scratchy voice, "You know something, Terry. I have been living in a hospital for the last three days with my cousin inches away from death. How do you think it makes me feel when the first friendly face I see after I get off the plane checks to see if *I*, out of the thousands of other people in this airport, might be an accessory to the criminal she just apprehended."

"Forget my contributions to PRIMUS. Forget my level 5 security clearance. You know me personally, and *you* didn't trust me. And you know I hate being called *Doctor* McBain."

Turning to Odyssey, the obviously angry doctor in a strained but polite tone says, "Miss... Odyssey, is it? I saw you teleport in the airport. I wonder if you could teleport me to the Presidio? You see, I have in my possession the single most valuable piece of scientific data for PRIMUS since the discovery of Cyberline. For some reason, I just don't feel that I can trust these agents to protect it all the way to the base."

Agent Kestler raises a blonde eyebrow at the scientist's outburst. "My regrets for your cousin. However, this is the conclusion to an important investigation, and your appearance here at the airport at the precise moment when Thermond is discovered is somewhat -- startling. Whatever your discovery, I suggest you submit it through official channels. PRIMUS official working hours start at 8 am," she looks at her watch. "As it's currently 2:37, it would be a long wait. Good night."

As the PRIMUS agent walks away, McBain yells after her, "My appearance is *startling*. Am I Mechanon to get such a reaction? Or maybe it's my *extensive* criminal record?! Lord nows, I hope I'm not making a deposit the next time my bank gets robbed! I'm just a natural suspect!"

Grabbing up his briefcase, McBain stalks away towards the parking deck. Odyssey hears a brief snippet of him muttering under his breath, "-cking Nazi bit-"

A very uncomfortable-looking Odyssey stares at the back of departing Agent Kestler. She shoots Tyler a hard glance, sighs, mutters something under her breath - it sounds like Greek - and there's an instant golden nimbus that surrounds the two of them.

A few seconds later the golden light clears and Knightshade finds himself in the middle of Odyssey's living room, a very peeved Cassandra Salvatore looking at him.

"I suggest you make yourself comfortable and listen to me," she says, in rapid fire, not letting Knightblade get a word in edgewise. "What are you trying to do, get yourself killed! My God, I was suprised she didn't arrest you then and there!"

More softly, her voice losing it's edge, "God Knightblade, I know you're worried about your cousin, but you're not going to be able to help him if you're cooling your heals in a jail. I don't know why PRIMUS is upset with you, but it looks like they don't need a reason to arrest you. Those agents were itching to use those guns and you pretty much called them traitors to their face. I've seen cops beat up motorists for less than that."

"I know, I know - you're nigh invulnerable in your suit, but your not in your suit right now and you weren't in your suit with thoses agents. I'm not saying they're right, I'm not saying you're right. What I'm saying is I just met you and - excuse me - but I'd like to see you live to attend the barbecue Tony and I are having next weekend!"

"Something is going on here, something involving you and PRIMUS. If you get yourself arrested you won't find out what it is and even worse, who will be there to help your cousin?"

"I need to know what's going on Knightblade," she says, looking at him earnestly. "By teleporting you out of there, I've pretty much told PRIMUS I know you from somewhere. No one who just met would act so rash. They're are probably going to call me or - if nothing else- put me on the same unfriendly list that you appear to be on. "

"Now my powers can't transport you inside PRIMUS, I could only get you to the door. And from the reception you received at the airport, I sincerely doubt that you'd get red carpet treatment from the Iron Guardsman at the gate. Hell, they nearly shot me the last time I showed up there unexpectedly."

"Please - just talk to me...."

A beaten looking Tyler McBain falls back into the sofa behind him. "Cassie, I have no idea what's going on," he says wearily. "I've poured my heart and soul into helping PRIMUS however I can. To have Terry, of all people, treat me like a criminal... hurts," he finishes, his voice cracking at the end.

"Well, I suppose whatever it is, PRIMUS will let you know pretty soon," Odyssey says with a sigh. "From the way they are acting, it's like they suspect you of somehow compromising security or turning traitor. Been dating any terrorists lately? Sorry, that was a bad joke. I guess I'm tired too."

"Oh God, Terry. I can't believe what I said to her. I wouldn't hurt her for anything," he continues, looking up at Odyssey, "Cassie, don't get in trouble over me. It would be too much. Go back. Tell them you dropped me at PRIMUS, the parking deck, anywhere. And thank you. I hate to think what I might have said if you hadn't got me out of there."

"Men," Odyssey says with a harump. "Sometimes you can be so insufferably noble. Like I would ever think twice about helping out a friend. Even if it meant pissing of PRIMUS. I just like to know why I'm pissing them off."

"For now, I think discretion is the better part of valor. At least one us better stay in their good graces or we're not going to be getting any information."

"You're welcome to stay overnight here," Odyssey says as she crosses over to a closet. Opening it up she pulls out a blanket and pillow and tosses them to Tyler.

"But you're going to have to put up with Lobo," she adds, punctuated by a low whistle. "Don't worry, she's a dear."

The whistle barely ends when what can only be described as a HUGE dog comes running full tilt down the stairs and jumps up putting her paws on Odyssey's costume. Tyler realizes that the dog is looking eye to eye with Odyssey.

"Lobo, get down!" Odyssey cries. "You're embarrassing me. Now Tyler's going to think I have a badly behaved dog."

The dog drops to the ground, which only slightly diminishes her size. Lobo has brown, short hair and a long tail. There is a single ridge of hair that appears to be standing on edge.

"Be nice to Tyler, Lobo. I'll be back in a second," Odyssey says, patting the dog's head and then disappearing.

Tyler looks at the dog looking at him and says weakly, "Nice doggie?" Lobo tilts her head to the side in stereotypical dog confusion.

Tyler sighs and begins adjusting the pillows and blankets on the sofa. Stopping, he drops his head to his hand and exhales deeply. He reaches down and opens his briefcase. Pulling Cassie and Tony's gift from it, he then closes it back up and locks it. Setting the photograph on a countertop, he then writes a short note that reads, "The gift I told you about."

He then walks back to the sofa, pats the dog still staring at him on the head, lays down, and falls instantly to sleep.

After Dr. McBain and Odyssey vanish in a golden flash, Agent Kestler turns to Protector, the expression on her face one of frustration and almost perfectly concealed rage. "This is not really the time to discuss this," she says, watching her team wrestle Thermond's body into Sherman. "But if you have a few minutes, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something? I would appreciate any insights you might have. I know it's almost three in the morning, but if you get some time tomorrow, would you please call me and we could have lunch or something? Here's my card." She hands Protector a white business card embossed with the PRIMUS logo and the text:

Assault Agent Terry Kestler
PRIMUS Investigations
(415) 332-7837 ext. 297
kestler@primus.gov

"Sure thing, Agent Kestler," Protector nods, and looks at the team preparing Thermond for transport. "You'll probably need a lunch break; you'll still be doing paperwork on this bust at noon tomorrow." he says matter-of-factly without looking at her.

"Don’t I know it," she sighs. "Thanks."

Stepping behind the curtain, Shawn lays eyes on Carol for the first time in days. A short, red-haired, doctor is cleaning and bandaging the gash in her head, while an older doctor watches. Though still in her boxer shorts, she is wearing a PRIMUS jacket as well. Rushing over, he takes Carol's hand, "Thank God, you're OK. Wow, you don't know how good it is to see you!"

"You don't know how good it is to be seen!" she replies. "Who were those wackos anyway? The PRIMUS guys weren't very talkative at all. Seemed pissed off about something."

"Some kind of weird cult," he shrugs. "I'm sure we can find out more about it later, after you get out of the hospital."

"She's out right now." said the young doctor, stepping back, her work completed. "Change the bandage in a couple of days, or if it gets wet or dirty, and no head-banging for a few weeks." The two physicians moved off together, leaving them.

"I called Mom and Dad and told them you were OK, but you'd see them tomorrow. You need your rest."

"Thanks..." she replied, seeming very tired, now that the doctor was gone. They headed out, Shawn convincing her to sleep at his place, since hers was still a wreck. She went right to sleep, and so did he, the late night museum vigil finally catching up to him.

The alarm screamed at 6 am, and he tossed his legs over the side of the bed with a grunt. He picked up the phone and called Greta's voicemail, explaining that his sister had been rescued from the kidnappers, and he would be taking the day to make sure she was OK, and to help her fix up her place. "If anything pressing comes up, call my cell or leave a message and I'll work it Saturday. Thanks Greta. Catch some bad guys."

He crept into the hall and peeked into his bedroom, seeing Carol fast asleep in his bed. Moving on tiptoes, he made his way back to the kitchen and started some coffee and toast.

At 10 AM he excused himself and went to the den. He picked up the phone and dialed up the number on the card Kestler had given him. It only rang once.

"Kestler."

"Good Morning, Agent Kestler. This is," Shawn suddenly catches himself and lowers his voice a bit, "Protector. Um, did you still want to get together and discuss that case?" After a brief exchange they decide to meet at Bill’s Place – a popular hamburger joint on Clement Street -- at noon.

To Be Continued....

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