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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/1654551-The-Further-Adventures-of-Finnegan-Ford
Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1654551
Follow the continuing adventures of famed explorer, Finnegan Ford
[Introduction]
The Further Adventures of Finnegan Ford or Finnegan Ford Part II

Help Finnegan explore the globe, finding rare treasures and valuable experience. What trouble will he get into this time? How will he get out of it?

Finnegan Ford is like a cross between Indiana Jones and James Bond. He has near unlimited resources, thanks to a thoughtful Grandfather and his will.

Backstory:

Finnegan Ford and the Ford Foundation had a mission: To secure a powerful artifact by "liberating" several of the key pieces that had been strewn about the globe. Always at their heels were the Cowl Corporation, the nemesis of Ford. Through the cunning use of tactics and dirigibles (more on that later) The Ford Team was victorious.

This time, however, Ford may not be so lucky... The mission may only be his own survival and he may pay the ultimate price!

Join Finnegan Ford, his oldest friend Brian and the whole Ford Foundation as they discover the truth behind...

The Riddle of Occam's Razor


We hope that old friends will return to the fray as well as new friends we meet along the way...

For those of you who are interested in reading the original or just want some background: "Invalid Item

_____________________________________________________________________________

I am sure this will be 18+ and encourage anyone to contribute, the more, the merrier!

Come and have fun!

All levels welcomed!

If you run into trouble, email me. EvilDawg - Vigilante Ranger!!

Please Number Your Posts At The Bottom Of Your Addition (#1, #2, etc...)

Please check out the forum, I will send you the passkey once accepted to the Campfire:
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#1654549 by Not Available.
From high above Ford Foundations private island Ford watched as the fireballs and explosions changed the landscape of what was once his sanctuary and base of operations. Thanks to The Cowl Corporation and their greed and lust for power, he will never see his island again. But he knew that Gunther Gritz was on that island when it exploded, he must have been! Looking down at the inferno from one of two dirigibles that floated away towards safety, Ford knew that he was fulfilling his destiny as the Chairman of the Board of the Ford Foundation as his Grandfather had wanted. Once last explosion rocked the blimp slightly as the shock wave hit it....

***Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep***

Finnegan Ford awoke from his reoccurring nightmare of that hellish day when he not only saved the world but also saw a part of his legacy erupt in a fiery dance of destruction. Thanks to his best friend Brian, Erin Farnsworth, Kiki and Watson they did what would have been impossible for any other team, they rescued the world from the potential clutches of the Cowl Corporation.

Finn always wondered if Gunther actually died as no body was every recovered. But how could there be anything but ash after that firestorm? Something in him said to expect the unexpected while another part told him he was being paranoid. To say that he was unclear and torn would be an understatement.

He got up and went into the bathroom of this Downtown Los Angeles penthouse; the marble tile and smoked chrome fixtures reassured him that he was sane and living in reality. He took a quick shower and got dressed. Today was an important day for him as he hoped to be reacquainted with old friends. He took his personal elevator up to the roof where his Helicopter waited to take him to San Diego. He was so excited that he didn't think of the wrinkles the rotor blades were causing to his Armani suit.

As the helicopter landed on the roof of the Omni San Diego Hotel where the Ford Foundation has a penthouse condo and has also leased the largest of the Meeting Rooms for this reunion. He was excited to see Erin and hoped that she was well; though he knew she was because he paid a lot of money for information about all of the attendees.

Brian should already be there, getting everything set up for the party... Finn reached for his phone and as soon as it was in his hand it rang, it was Brian.

“Brian! How is everything going?”

“It's going well, Finn. Where are you?”

“Just arrived. Has anyone else arrived yet?” Finnegan was getting anxious to see his friends.

“They are all here already... They actually got here before the infamous Finnegan Ford! Chuckle Come on down to the Meeting Room once your all settled.

“Thanks Brian, will do. Finn out!” Ford got out of the helicopter and made his way to the Penthouse. He put down his bags and admired the fruit basket on the end table in the living room, took an apple and started eating it on his way to elevator. How I like the Fuji variety. Finn remarked to himself.

The lobby level of the Omni San Diego Hotel was something to behold. The Art Deco inspired architecture only added to the ambiance of this magnificent hotel. Across the street from the Convention Center and the L Street Gallery, this hotel was prime San Diego property; Finn wondered if he should buy it...

He stood outside the closed door of the Meeting Room, the largest of the twenty-one The Omni has here, and admired the LCD Sign on the stand out front, it read:

Welcome back, Friends of The Ford Foundation (FFF)
WWFFD!.


Not able to hold out any longer, Finnegan Ford brazenly walked inside; head held high and dressed to the nines.

He noticed Brian first, at the podium, surely getting his speech ready and making sure there was either water or juice at the ready. Brian nodded with a familiar smile.

Erin was next, Finn strutted over and gave her a big hug and a peck on the cheek, “Wonderful to see you Ms. Farnsworth!” Erin was taken by surprise, a little, at the emotion in Ford's hug but, after all, they shared very intense experiences the last time they teamed up. It had been about five months since any of them had seen each other and Erin, the workaholic, was no doubt in some far away Latin-based country doing what she does best. An expert in Latin and Slovak cultures she was invaluable to the team on the last mission.

Finnegan checked his watch briefly and looked at Watson, “You CIA Devil! Get over here!” Finnegan, smile on his face, gave Watson a hug and a pat on the back. “Did I ever thank you for what you did for us last time? I know that it was a confusing time for you, but I always knew you were in control. Amazing job, really.” Finn glanced at Watson's better half, Kiki, and gave her a wink. He let up on the hug and slid past him to hug Watson's fiancee.

“So nice to see you", Finn let out a series of click and hoots, punctuated by at least two snorts, a pop, and something that sounded like a clucking chicken. Finn smiled as Watson stood there, amazed.

“You have been practicing your Kamayuran I see, well done!” Kiki gave Finn a big hug back. After all, it was Finn who stole, then returned, the Python Tear to and from her village in the Amazon. Of course Finnegan Ford doesn't steal anything, he “Liberates” it.

Finn looked around and was satisfied that everyone was there, smiled, and walked to the podium. He shook Brian's hand and thanked him for setting everything up, to which Brian nodded in acknowledgment. Ford took a drink of the Orange Juice and tapped the mic to make sure it was on and wouldn't feed back then cleared his throat.

“Friends... Well... More like Family really. Thank you all for coming. It is so nice to see all of you. It does my heart good to have such wonderful and amazing people around me once again.” Finnegan Ford lovingly looked out over the small group and smiled his warm, dimpled grin. “This is part reunion and part proposition. No one, I repeat, no one is under any obligation, whatsoever. So I suppose that we should get to the business at hand so that we may put that behind us and get caught up.”

Ford opened up the leather bound notebook on the podium and lost his train of thought as he read the writing... His heart sank and he knew it was visible to the others. “Ummm... Well, this is not how I had hoped this would go. One second please, Brian?”
Brian got up and stepped up to the podium. They whispered back and forth as Brian shook his head, insisting something didn't occur. Finnegan put his hand on his shoulder, reassuringly, and motioned him back over to his seat.

“Okay, change of plans, but not really... It would appear that I have been poisoned, in a fashion. Poisoned by Nanites from an apple I ate.” Finn sighed, “Of course I will have this verified momentarily but the more disturbing thing is that there is a note, here in my very own notebook, telling me the following...”

Finnegan Ford started reading the note aloud, “Mr. Ford, please know that no harm will come to you as long as you do exactly as I say. You have called your team together to entice them to assist you in recovering the whereabouts of Atlantis. That's right, Ford. Atlantis. Cowl knows that you have discovered its location, or probable location. We also know that you need a device, a mechanism, before to descend to the depths of the Mediterranean Sea. While we may not know exactly where your research has taken you, we do know that you will stop at nothing. Oh, a few more things: We can track you, do not try and deceive us. If we feel that you are being troublesome, we can activate the Nanites in your body and start the process of killing you. You may go to your doctor and have blood drawn once in order to convice you that this is real, remember we will be watching. Take your friends and find Atlantis. Find it for The Cowl Corporation. Find it for me.

Gunther Gritz.

PS We will be taking the credit and the treasures as I'm sure you have already guessed.”

Ford put his hands on the podium and let out another sigh. “So... I was excited to tell you that I had found the Lost City of Atlantis and I guess I still am. I have located it with the use of some new MRI Hardware and detection software the Ford Foundation has recently developed. It lies off the coast of Santorini in the Mediterranean Sea. But, before we get there we will have to find the Antikythera Mechanism, a perplexing artifact recovered off the coast of Crete in 1900, dated back to 80 BC. The impossible thing is that it contained a sophisticated system of differential gears. Gearing of this complexity wasn't known to exist until 1575 AD. Our MRI Data suggests that this Mechanism is exactly the device needed to open a stone trap door we found.”

Finnegan Ford looked out at this friends, his family, and just smiled for a moment, then continued, “Again, no one is under any obligation and I would wholeheartedly understand anyone who does not wish to accompany me. Cowl already knows of this but more disturbing is that it appears that Gunther Gritz did not die a fiery death on the former Island Headquarters of the Ford Foundation as we had thought. We do have a new HQ though, it's a very large yacht called the Molly Brown and it is currently floating in the Mediterranean. Wheels up at 0700 tomorrow morning if anyone wants to tag along. We will most likely have a new member but I will let them introduce themselves and what they do once they arrive. (Plot device for Mike :)

With that, Finnegan went to Brian and asked him to call his Doctor to verify that Gunther had said. Brian took out his phone and dialed as Finn went to his guests.

(Please keep your first posts limited to San Diego and pre-flight. We want to hear your characters thoughts on the mission and the predicament Ford finds himself in as well as your answer. If you want to start a new character or two now is the time. Mike, you can write yourself in as you are expected by Ford. If anyone has any questions, please feel free to email me or post in the forum. I have a good feeling about this and thank you to all of you!)



#1


Kiki and Watson stood in the back of the room and listened to Ford talk from the podium. Watson, on leave from the CIA, reached over and squeezed Kiki’s hand when their friend announced he was infected with nanites.

He leaned over and blew a loud whisper into her ear, “What are Nannoids?”

Kiki cringed and shot up a hand to cover her ear. “It’s nanites, now shhhhhh! I want to hear what he has to say!”

“So what are nanites?”

Kiki turned to look straight at Watson. “If you don’t shut up I am going to bite you,” she shout-whispered to his face.

Watson’s eyes widened and he shrunk back a little. He knew she wasn’t kidding. She had bitten him before. In fact, she had bitten him more than once. And not only during their animalistic lovemaking. After all, she was a Kamayuran Princess, and courting her had been steeped in ritual. He had endured the formal biting ceremony, the elder council nibbling sessions, and of course, the tribal gnawing. All that gnawing. Watson would never forget the gnawing.

It had all been worth it. Watson adored Kiki from the moment they met, back at the Xpulak Ruins in Mexico. He recalled waking up in her arms after she accidentally hit him with a poisonous blow dart. He remembered being captivated by her light brown skin, and her deep brown eyes that sparkled with intelligence and even wisdom. Her hair was tightly braided in cornrows across her scalp, and her cheeks glowed. Just like now. A true aboriginal goddess, Watson thought. My aboriginal goddess.

The Kamayura, an indigenous Indian tribe in the Amazonian Basin of Brazil, were dwindling in numbers as they struggled with deforestation and climate change. Kiki fought tremendous odds amassing countless accomplishments, even at her young age, which Watson estimated to be late 20’s. Besides being Kamayuran royalty, she was a theoretical physicist, an extreme sports competitor, the scientific reality spiritual leader to her people, and one hell of a dirigible pilot. And her sexual skills had been based on what the Kamayurans had observed, over generations, from animals in the Amazonian jungle. Watson would never be the same.

Finnegan Ford finished his speech. He had some sort of infection. Or was it an infestation? And he was still putting together a mission. Watson knew he and Kiki would have to decide whether or not to be part of the mission, but he still didn’t understand the infection. He looked at Kiki.

She looked at Watson and picked up the conversation as though their mid-speech whispering session never paused, “Nanites are microscopic machines that are programmed to perform a specific task,” Kiki continued, “They are artificial, non-biologic robots on the scale of nanometers. That’s a billionth of a meter.”

“I know what a nanometer is,” Watson protested.

“I worked on similar nanotechnology during my year of honorary professorship at M.I.T.” Kiki continued, “and this kind of sophistication was still theoretical.”

“So what could happen to Finn?” Watson asked.

“If the nanites are programmed for tissue destruction, and they can be triggered remotely, and all the cells in Finnegan’s body could explode.” Kiki suddenly had a worried look.

“What else?”

“There is a virus in the jungle that does a similar thing to its victims. It’s called Ebola. An unscrupulous villain could trigger something like that in Finnegan.” They both shuttered.

“Right now, there is only one thing we can do,” Watson said, with a take-charge attitude in his voice. “We’re going on this mission.”

They both nodded in agreement.


#2

It was on a sultry afternoon, and Erin had just finished her ice cold glass of sweet tea. Walking through the patio door she set the empty glass down, and proceeded to the front door and out. Aunt Rose still wasn't home. Erin followed the path to the mailbox and retrieved her mail, like she usually did for the past few weeks since she'd came to stay during her brief breaks at work. An envelope with her name on it caught her eye. That's odd, she thought. Hardly anyone knew she was here.

The return address revealed the mystery--Ford Foundation. Ford had services available to him that enabled him to find anyone on the continent, or possibly the world. Tossing the other mail aside, Erin strolled across the living room, entered the spare bedroom,. Grabbing a pillow to stuff under her, she flopped onto the bed face down, then ripped the envelope open and read the invitation. Omni Hotel, San Diego.

Ah. Finnegan she sighed, remembering their last contact. It was more than evident that he was as HOT for her as she was for him, even if he wouldn't admit it. Both of them remained sensible, and thank god she didn't quite make an idiot out of herself like most of the women that flocked to him. He was just a man, a very special man with a purpose. There were more important things to take care of and she'd not distract him from that purpose.

Although, the idea did seem rather stimulating and she daydreamed about the possibilities, and then shook her head to shirk off some of her fondest fantasys.


That was several hours ago. She looked at her reflection in the shiny surface on the wall in front of her, carefully applied some lip gloss, strolled out of the elevator, and found the conference room door and pushed it open. There stood Kiki and Watson, his hand at the small of her back, and hers touching his face tenderly. Their relationship had turned out much better than Erin had thought at first. He was entranced with her.

Erin smiled and moved forward took their hands. "Hello! Wow you both look amazing! It's so good to see you," Erin said as they hugged each other and then moved toward the other guests.

"Brian! How are you? Good to see you too."

Finnegan caught her before she'd found her seat. "Wonderful to see you, Ms. Farnsworth," he'd said.

So formal? " Thank you so much for inviting me I'm glad to be here...Mr. Ford." Her smile was sweet as she kissed him on the cheek.

Finn grinned slightly, indicating that he realized she'd mimicked his own formality in addressing her. He looked just as handsome as she'd remembered him., and still had that sparkle in those beautiful hazel eyes--the eyes she could gaze into forever. He released her hand, and turned his attention to Brian, and soon all took their seats.

After several minutes, Erin watched as Finn had hesitated and then looked a bit pale, and it was then that he announced what was up. It was then that she realized that Gunther Gritz was being his usual thorn in the side again, and still out to destroy any plans that the Ford Foundation had, and would also destroy Finnegan himself.

Noooo!! Erin's hands became fists. She looked over at Watson. "What can we do?" she whispered.

"Lets not panic. We'll figure something out." And then he looked at Kiki, who nodded.

Erin glanced back at Finn, and bit her lip, and then slid out of her chair, and ran to him and Brian. "Is he...going to be okay? Shouldn't he see a doctor or something? Isn't there anyone that can help him?" she asked.

Brian opened his mouth, but closed it just as fast.

"It's okay, Brian. Let me handle this." Finn pulled her aside, lifted her hand, and kissed it and then whispered. "I know you're worried and I love that about you, but everything will be okay, you'll see. It's just a setback we hadn't counted on."

"Setback? Oh Finn!" she cried. "How can you say that?" Her voice rose. "You should be getting help, not saving the world. How are you going to do that if your body gets weaker and weaker until you.... "

"Please try to calm down." He tugged at her, but she resisted.

She knew if she stayed a moment longer, it would be embarassing. "I'm sorry," was all she could get out. She rushed past the others, and quickly left the room.

"Wait! Please!" Finn called out, but she was already outside the door and in the hallway. Further down the corridor, she leaned against the wall, and sniffled into her Kleenex. A world without Finn? Unthinkable. She sniffled again.


After several moments spent in tears, a familiar scent filled her senses, and then she felt arms...his arms pulling her to him. Her face sank into his shoulder, and his chin was against her head. "Hang in there. Can you do that for me? Please? Can I count on your moral support?" he asked. After a few moments, he felt her nod, and they walked back to the conference room together.
#3

Gunther Gritz stood with his hands clasped behind his back looking out the window of his new office high in the skycraper headquarters of the Cowl Corporation. Behind him his intercom pinged. "Mr Gritz, the Mole is here to see you."

"Send him in," Gunther murmured softly. The burn scars on his face hurt if he tried to speak too loudly.

A hunchbacked man in a poorly-fitting suit shuffled in.

"You are the Mole?" Gunther said. "Somehow I expected someone more imposing."

The Mole shrugged. "I am what I am, Captain. What's your pleasure?"

Gunther gritted his teeth. "The days of my pleasure are over, thanks to Finnegan Ford."

"I've heard of him. Fine chap."

"No! He's scum. He tried to fry me like a KFC special. But I don't cook that easy. I need you for a special mission, Mole. The pay is good."

"Do I have to kill anybody?"

"You don't have to," Gunther said, "but if you do I won't be slapping your hand about it. I want an army of agents shadowing Finnegan Ford's every move. I want to know what he's doing and who he's doing it with. Top priority is his travel plans."

"Got it," the Mole said. "I'll report daily. Good enough?"

"Make it twice a day," Gunther said.

After the Mole left, Gunther thumbed his intercom. "Send in the next henchman, Miss Prettygood."


#4
Sitting in a small eatery located in Sarasota, Florida, the newest member of Finnegan Ford's team, Harrison Hawk, takes a few moments to indulge in one of his favorite snacks, a double bacon cheeseburger covered with peanut butter. He may have some strange eating habits, but he's all business when the time comes to get a job done. Finnegan Ford contacted him a couple of days ago, asking him to fly out to San Diego to discuss plans for an upcoming mission he was planning.

They met on a Friday afternoon, a few weeks back, while Ford was on a business trip in Tampa. It turns out that Harrison was a global traveler himself, and was part of an Antarctic expedition in search of a mysterious gem called the Armageddon Crystal, which was the source of power for the Holy Staff of the Almighty. The expedition had been cut short due to very extreme weather conditions, so Harrison returned to the States in hopes of resuming his search in a couple of weeks, that is until he met Mr. Ford.

Finnegan wanted very much to add Harrison Hawk to his team. He was even willing to go against his normal diet and join Hawk in dining on one of his rather odd culinary favorites, something called a Fat Sandy, a rather large sub sandwich with a plethora of deep fried ingredients and topped with macaroni and cheese. How anybody could stomach such a concoction was beyond the scope of Ford's understanding, but he dug right in and did his best to ingest this caloric nightmare. A few antacid tablets later, Finnegan told Harrison that he would contact him, and the two shook hands, agreeing to meet up at a later date.

The flight to San Diego was rather quiet, as Hawk took his own private jet and decided to catch a nap during the travel time. Harrison arrived at the Omni San Diego Hotel, made his way to the meeting, stopping only briefly to answer his cell phone, and moments later walked into the Meeting Room, seeing Finnegan and the rest of his team at the front of the room. Finnegan sees his new acquaintance approaching and breaks free from the group. The two shake hands and exchange greetings, with Hawk noticing that something is not quite right. Finnegan lets him know that all will be explained later this evening then walks him over to the group for a proper introduction. "I'd like you all to meet Harrison Hawk, the newest member of our team." Finnegan says, in a confident tone of voice. "He will be a wonderful addition to our team. His eating habits are a bit amusing, but that's another story altogether. You'll see for yourselves one day." says Ford with a slight chuckle.

After the formalities and a brief discussion, Finnegan and his team decide to use the rest of the day to catch up, and to get more acquainted with Mr. Hawk. The time to get down to business will arrive soon enough.


#5
Although a few minutes or so had gone by without interruption, Brian's phone range suddenly as the previous chapter ended, buzzing loudly to "Don't Stop BELEEIIVIN!'". Brian chuckled nervously, compleatly embarresed under inquisitive stares, and answered his phone. He would set it back to "Vibrate" mode later.

"Yes? Brian Knight....Oh, Doctor Cambridge!" Brian replied with delight. The team's faces lit up. "Good, I'm glad you could call on such short notice...What? Yeah, he's here" Brian motioned to Finnegan, who got up form his seat and took the phone.

"Ford here, it's nice to hear you Cabridge..."

"Yes Mr. Ford, it's nice to hear from you too...I'd like you to come down to my office", came te raspy voice of Dr. Cambridge. Dr. Cambridge was one of the best, and not to mention best trusted, of all of Finnegan Ford's contacts. Ford knew Cambridge would never hesitate to help the Ford familly. "I've heard of your predicament and it all sounds quite mysterious. Nanites are supposed to be currently more Science Fiction than Science Fact..."

"It's seams all very strange to me too Doctor. Well, I'll be on my way then. See you in Thirty"

"Always very brief with you Fords, huh?" Cambridge chuckled. "Well, Goodbye then Mr. Ford." And the good Doctor hung up.

"What was that about?" Harrison asked, leaning back in his chair and pulling out a bag of BBQ chips and a can of tuna-tartar from within some depths of his pocket, ignoring the stares.

"Don't have time to explain, the team will fill you in. I should be back in about an hour and a half you guys. Use this time to reaffiliate yourselves with the mission and each other. If you're all coming, I need you at your best." And Finnegan Ford left the room. Unknown to Ford, however, a shadow from ages past followed him...

*~*~*


"It's so very strange!" Cried a pudgy and squat aging man with a salt and pepper beard and half-moon spectacles. "All of science says it isn't so, but there they are!" This man was none other than Doctor Albertus Cambridge himself, the favored Doctor of Finnegan's Grandfather and the Ford Family in general. Plus, it helped he was also a good friend as well. His office was conviently located in San Diego, and close by to where they were before. It was a sort of coincidence that only happens in Action/Adventure Novels, but I digress...

"So it's real, huh Cambridge?" Finnegan asked. He had spent the last twenty minutes hooked up to an IV and a supercomputer, and was eager to return to his mission.

"Oh, I'm about ninety nine percent sure..." was his reply. Cambridge busied himself reading the screen of the computer, analyzing the results of the blood test. "It will take a bit more time to fully make sure there aren't any glitches and whatnot, and of course retest with samples of blood I've taken from you, but it seams very likely that Cowl has done as he said."

"That's not gunna fly Doc. I need to rid myself of these things! As long as they're in there, Cowl might as well be pulling my strings and holding me down."

"Don't worry Finnegan!" Doctor Cambridge turned to a new recipe on a different board and scribbled notes on it. "Once the testing is compleate, I should be able to pull some strings and get a team of my own together. We'll reverse engineer the nanite samples and find a cure. But of course, that will take time."

"How long?" Ford shot back, quick as a gunslinger at high noon. Cambridge made a face and looked at Ford seriously, removing his glasses to enhance the gravity of the situation.

"I thought you might ask that. It could take anywhere from twelve hours...To twelve years."

"WHAT?!" Ford shouted, the computer almost rattling at the sheer awesomeness of Finnegan Ford's normally calm demenour broken. "Twelve YEARS!?"

"Huuusssh! Now,now,now! It's only a rough estimate! It's more than highly likely it will actually be compleate just in the nick of time, so don't worry yourself silly!" Doctor Cambridge always had the ability to make any situation look very simple and easy to fix through his rational logic and high intelligence.

Ford looked back at his friend with at first a scowl, but then petered out into a neutral smile."If you say so...Jesus, you act like this is some damn Storybook..." Finnegan Ford quickly returned to his calm state, plucked out the IV and put on his coat and grabed the keys to his car. "I'll be in touch doc, I gotta get back to my Team. You do the same."

"Oh, will do..." Doctor Cambridge hurridly noted, multitasking calling for the favor team he'd put together and to calculate a complex equation. "Do drive home safely!"

*~*~*


As Ford parked his car and locked it, now back where he had started, he felt a strange presence off to the side. He quickly turned around to find a man in a black trenchcoat and black hat, covering most of his face.

"...How long have you been following me?"

"For too many years..." was the Man in Black's deep voiced reply. Ford's face scrunched with recognition.

"Let me guess...You survived the explosion like Gunther, huh Mack?"

"Mighty" Mack McPhee steped out of the shadows and into the fading light of the day. His large muscular build and dark appearence certainly would frighten any meer mortal. Any, except maybe, Finnegan Ford.

"Hehehe...You'd be correct...Still as sharp as 'ol Grandad, huh?"

"Quit it with the mind games. What do you want?"

"The question isn't what I want...It's what you need." Mack cracked his knuckles and lifted his head, showing his face off. It was slightly burnt, presumably from the explosion, with several more scars than usual. His hair from under his hat looked greasy and unkept, and now that he was closer, Ford could tell his coat wasn't in the best of shape. "I quit Cowl, Ford. Had too much of that bastard. He's been hunting me down ever since that day five months ago, ever since my and Gunther's Failure. We both have something the other wants. You need my inside information on Cowl and his plans, and I need your team. I want to work for you."

Ford kept his silence for a long time. He stared intently at the man, studying him like only Ford could do.

"And just how do I know you're telling the truth?" Mack laughed.

"You seriously think I LIKE to look like an on-the-run Hobo?"

"Point taken."

#6
Ford's head swam as the events of the day started to catch up with him. He walked back to the meeting room with Mr. McPhee in tow and all eyes were first on Finnegan, then on Mack.

Watson drew his gun and pointed it at Mack, “What the...! Stay right where you are!”

Finn put his hand up in calming fashion, “It's okay, everyone just calm down. Watson, there is no need for the weapon, Mr. McPhee is here to help. It appears he has switched sides and has some information about Cowl and it's plans.” He went back up to the podium and motioned for everyone to sit down.

“Okay so here's what we know. Cowl has infected me nanites that can start, literally, eating me alive. We know that we can't trust them, but I have confirmed this is a valid threat; the nanites are real. We also know that Cowl is in this for the money, fame and power, so as long as we stay on task on this mission, I should be okay. But let's not worry about me.” Finnegan motioned for Brian to come over, “will you see to it that Mr. McPhee has a room and a shower... Oh, and a fresh change of clothes?” Brian nodded and started leaving the room when Finn said with a wink, “Oh and for gods sake some cologne!”

Mack followed Brian out of the room and as the door closed, the remainder of the occupants stood up and had many questions. Finnegan waved them away as he put his hands up and they sat back down again.

“Look, I'm not sure if we can trust him either, but he's here and he is offering to help. It seems that I remember from Watson's report that Mack wasn't treated very well and he did comment on how he has had “too much” of the Cowl Corporation. So maybe he reformed or maybe he's playing a part. There is a saying that I'm sure you're all familiar with, 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' I think that applies in this case. And, who knows, maybe he will turn out to be a good guy. Oh and I see that you have met Mr. Hawk.” Ford cracked a small smile at the thought of a former Cowl agent turning over to the side of right. He continued, “So I can assume that you have all agreed to accompany me on this mission?”


#7

Kiki lead Watson by the hand, back to the group. They were already talking about the mission, and about the new team members. Watson walked up to Harrison and stuck out a hand. Harrison grabbed it and shook it. Then, to the surprise of everyone watching, they embraced like long lost friends, and laughed.

“Watson, you ‘ole polecat! You really do have nine lives!” Harrison exclaimed. “I thought for sure that volcano did you in, what was it, ten years ago?”

“Eleven. And I had to jump in, Hawk,” Watson retorted. “I couldn’t let Philippine HooDoo practitioners throw that virgin into Mount Canlaon, now could I? After all, volcanoes are a dime-a-dozen, but virgins, well, you know.” Watson continued, “And what about you? How did you get through the torture? Didn’t they make you eat a boar stuffed with chicken tenders and burger patties, smothered in cheese whiz?”

“That wasn’t torture, Watson. That was my lunch.”

Kiki interrupted, “Sorry to break up the good old boys' adventure network, but how about filling us in?”

“We’ve had a few missions together,” Watson explained, “Well, for me they were missions. I never really knew what the Hawkster was doing there.”

“The Hawkster?”

“I mean Hawk, er, Harrison.” Watson said.

“My ‘Hawkster’ days are over, Watson my dear friend. I never want to be that wild again. I’m just not that guy anymore,” Harrison said in a tired voice, “and if I never get called that again it will be too soon.”

“This is getting kind of confusing”, Kiki said. “Let me see if I can sum up what’s going on.” The others nodded, almost in unison. “We have the old team back together again, including Finn, Brian, Erin, Watson, and me. And we’ve added the illustrious Hawk Harrison, who of course is famous in his own right, at least to you guys.”

“Uh, it’s Harrison Hawk,” Harrison corrected.

“Oh right. Harrison,” Kiki conceded. “Harrison Hawk. Got it.” Kiki and Harrison giggled in unison. Their eyes met only briefly, but Kiki blushed and quickly dropped her gaze. Uh oh, she said to herself, silently she hoped.

“And don’t forget we added ‘Mighty’ Mack McPhee,” Erin interrupted, mostly to rescue Kiki from what she saw as an awkward moment. “And for the record,” she continued, “he’s going to have to prove himself to me.”

“I agree,” said Watson, “he smells like trouble.”

“The cologne should fix that,” said Erin, “I hope.”

They all nodded in agreement. And Finn managed a small laugh.


#8
The room reeked of tuna. Erin expected that any minute now, a storm of cats would approach and attack. Erin grabbed a handkerchief out of her bag, and secretly prayed that Harrison didn't get close enough to breathe on her. I might have to go grocery shopping before the quest, just in case. she thought.

#9

Gunther Gritz looked out the window of his new office in the Cowl Building. The view from 60 floors up fascinated him. I should have been a bird, he thought. An eagle.

Miss Prettygood's voice came through the intercom. "Gunther? Mr. Cowl wants to see you right away."

The elevator let him off at the penthouse office of the big man and a guard showed him to the terrace where Mr. Cowl was watering his roses. Gunther waited quietly until the big man spoke.

"Do you like roses, Gunther?"

"I've never done much gardening, sir."

"Roses need water and sunshine and good rich earth. If they have them then they grow and thrive and are happy. What about you, Gunther?"

"Me, sir?"

"Yes. What do you need?"

"You know that, sir. I need to destroy Finnegan Ford."

Mr. Cowl chuckled. "You don't trust my Nanites to do it?"

"Sir, technology is fine when it works, but I doubt Finnegan Ford can be taken down so easily form a distance. In my opinion, only a direct hit by a human agent can take him out."

"You may be right. Are you ready to travel?"

"As soon as you give the word, sir. My bag is packed."

"Good. I think the time will be soon, probably within 24 hours. Stay alert."

"Yes, sir."

Gunther Gritz returned to his office with a new glow in his heart. Finally, he could move against Ford. He punched the intercom. "Is The Mole here yet? Send him in."

The Mole handed Gunther a file folder. "Want me to verbalize it for you?"

"Yes. Time is short. What have you got this time?"

The Mole rubbed his hands together. "It looks like something is definitely up. Ford had a big meeting at his San Diego headquarters. Some familiar faces were there: Brian, Watson, Kiki, Erin... Mighty Mack McPhee."

"What?! Mack was there?"

"Yep. Looks like he's gone over to the other side."

"Son of a bitch! I don't believe it! Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Nothing. Who else?"

"A guy by the name of Harrison Hawk. Know him?"

"Only by reputation. They say when he was a child he accidentally bit off his mother's finger when she was feeding him. That may be an urban myth. But his appetite is legendary. Anyone else?"

"We're working on it. Should have the details of what was discussed for you soon."

"Good, but be quick. It looks we're about to move."

#10
As the night winded down, Harrison Hawk began to wonder about his own mission that he recently had to abort. Finding the Armageddon Crystal was something Hawk had planned for a year and a half, and now he is part of a new mission with Mr. Finnegan Ford. Reuniting with Watson was nice, but he couldn't help but think of when he'd be able to return to Antarctica. However, he did find the possibility of Ford's team assisting him after this current mission is over to be quite intriguing.

He settles in his private room to relax, and he decides to have a late night snack before retiring to bed. Luckily for him, this town has a lot of places that deliver late at night. Taking out his phone, he calls a local greasy spoon and places an order. About ten minutes later, there's a knock on his door. It's Finnegan Ford, wanting to spend a few moments alone with his newest team member. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Mr. Hawk." says Ford. "I simply wanted to talk to you without the others around. Is that OK?" "Sure, no problem." said Harrison. "What's on your mind?"

Ford pauses for a brief moment, hoping he's doing the right thing. He's usually very sure of himself, but this time is a bit different. "I'm really worried about these damn nanites, Hawk. It's hard for me to feel this way because I've never let anything get to me before, but then again I've never had microscopic robots flowing through my body either. It sounds like some sort of twisted sci-fi movie plot." Harrison sees the concern in Ford's eyes, and wonders what he can do to ease his new friend's mind. Just then, the door knocks again. "Excuse me for a moment, Finnegan, my delivery is here." Ford looks at him somewhat puzzled. "Are you expecting a package, Mr. Hawk, at this time of night?" asks Ford. "No, just a bite to eat." Hawk says, a smile briefly appearing.

A delivery man from Jack's Snack Shack stands in the doorway. "Hello sir, let me make sure I have your order right, I've never quite seen one like this. You ordered chili cheese fries with bacon, diced chicken tenders and ranch dressing added, a cheese steak quesadilla smothered with marinara, and an order of deep fried twinkies, correct?" "Yes, that is right." Hawk answers. He hands the guy the money for the order and a fat tip for being so prompt. "Thank you very much sir! Have a great night." Finnegan looks over as Harrison brings this huge bag over to the table. "You're not seriously going to eat all that, are you?" asks Ford. Harrison lets out a small chuckle as he opens the bag. "Yes, of course, you've heard of my hearty appetite. The reason I don't weigh four hundred pounds is because I've been blessed with an extremely high metabolism, and the fact that my body contains a little over nine percent more protein than the average person. All the food I eat gets broken down very quickly, and the calories burn out fast."

"Unbelievable." says Ford. "Anyway, back to why I came here to talk to you. I felt the need to tell someone about my concerns, and I didn't want the rest of my team to see me in such a worried state. They've always seen me look danger right in the eye and laugh, never backing down. I'd hate for them to look at me in a different light, as someone who shows even an ounce of trepidation. I felt like I could come to you, because we really don't know each other that well, and I believe you would keep my concern a secret." Hawk looks at Ford, noticing a bead of sweat on his brow. He really is nervous about his current condition. "You have my word, Mr. Ford. Your secret is safe with me. Would you like some of the quesadilla?" Ford looks over at the marinara covered mound of calories and politely declines, placing his hand over his stomach. "Enjoy your snack, Mr. Hawk. I will see you in the morning. Sleep well, though I can't understand how anyone could sleep after eating that." "That's what the well aged whiskey is for. Good night, Finnegan. We will talk more tomorrow."

#11
Brian and Mack walked in total silence to an extra room next to Harrison Hawk's, which is where the newest gang member was to make his room. Brian pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, all while keeping a trained eye on his "companion".

"This shall be your room Mr. McPhee..." He handed him the key to the room.

"Ah, so you CAN talk...," came from Mack. The tall, largely built Mack almost doubled in size Brian Knight, and it was quite a sight to see them face each other off. Obviously words aren't going to convince them alone... Mack thought, thoroughly tired and ready fr that promised shower.

As if by mindreading, Bran turned to walk away, but started talking as he went his way. "The shower's to your left, I'll leave you some clothes and cologne on your bed. Don't think for a second I've forgotten what Hell you put us through..."

"Yeah..." muttered Mack, turning to the shower room. It was three months since his last proper shower.

*~*~*


All night Mack tossed and turned in bed, despite the matress being the softest thing he has slept on in months, an ever-looming premonition engulfed his soul.

"AHH!," Mack shouted, shooting upright and instanly covering his face with his hands. "Shiit...Sucky dream..." he looked around now, putting down his hands. The given room has fairly generic, white walls, wood dresser and TV stand, nightstand and closet. It was dull, but Mack took dull well. On a chair in the middle of the room hung his hat, and a piled jumble of clothes. Apparently Brian decided to give Mack options. Mack left the bed and sorted through the pile, eventually settling on putting a strangly and coincidentally replica black overcoat as his old one, a green shirt and some black pants, two sizes too big.

"Lucky theres a belt..." Mack said to himself, tightening the brown leather belt. He straigtened his hat and looked in the mirror. He looked better than Bill Clinton at a World Summit. He checked the clock on the wall, gazing over his shoulder. 8:56.

"Better get down to that meeting room, I think it's time to have that gathering... Hope I haven't missed it..."

#12
Finnegan Ford woke feeling refreshed and well rested, that is, until the recent events came to mind and he remembered his predicament. I hate Cowl! He reluctantly got out of bed and got into the shower. He let the steam work its magic as he thought about his situation. He knew that there must be some way to neutralize these nanites, but, he needed more information. He also knew that once he did was what asked of him, Cowl would most likely just activate the nanites and be done with him.

Ford got dressed and headed down to the Meeting Room and met up with Brian, who was getting the room together for the presentation Finn was about to give.

"Save it Brian, we'll do it on the plane." Finn checked his watch and sat down in one of the chairs was instantly lost in thought.

Brian gathered up all of the notes and slides and tech equipment and stowed it on the dolly. He went over to Finnegan and sat down in the seat next to him. "You okay Finn?"

Ford looked a bit out of sorts but managed a passing, "Fine, Brian. Fine."

Erin was the first to enter the Meeting Room, followed by Watson and Kiki. Harrison and Mack arrived last. Finnegan Ford stood up and went to the podium.

"Good morning and may I say thank you for coming on this mission. I can't tell you how much it means to me." Finn took a sip of water and continued, "We had a nice presentation lined up, but, I really want to get going so if you don't mind, I would like to do that on the plane." Finnegan stepped down and motioned for everyone to exit, "There are cars waiting to take us to the Airport where we will fly to New York, then London and finally Greece."

The drive to the airport was quick and hassle-free. The private jet departed perfectly on time and they were in the air, en-route to New York.

"Once we are over the Atlantic I will dim the lights and we shall proceed with the planning stages of the mission. For now, everyone relax and enjoy the beverages and cuisine." Finnegan sat back in this seat and gazed out over the south-western United States. Everything will work itself out, Grampa used to always say that. I hope it's true this time.

#13


Watson sat comfortably, wrapped in the plush seat cushions of the nicest private jet he had ever seen. He looked from side to side, absorbing every interior detail of the Embraer Lineage 1000 jet airliner. The plane was designed to carry nineteen passengers, but this one had obviously been modified; the cabin had been turned into a lounge of sorts, with luxurious appointments. Finnegan sure knows how to live, Watson thought. Or maybe he thinks this might be his last mission. The fore cabin sported a fully stocked bar detailed in hand-carved African Zebrawood. It wrapped seamlessly into a galley fitted with professional appliances and a gourmet-level stocked pantry. Harrison was rifling through the pantry with his back to the cabin. The aft compartment held a private office and bedroom. The main section had plush chairs, couches, and a large plasma screen.

“Nice, huh?” Kiki’s sweet song-like voice interrupted his thoughts. She had settled into the next seat. “The plane. Nice, don’t you think?”

“Incredible,” Watson responded. “You think he owns it?”

“Well the mahogany paneling in the bedroom is embossed with the initials FF, so I would guess so.”

“The bedroom? You saw the bedroom?” Watson sounded surprised.

“Yeah, Hawk and I checked things out before we lifted off.”

Watson didn’t answer, but something he didn’t recognize ached a little in his chest. He ignored it. “See anything you like?” Watson asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The plane. Did you and Hawk see anything you like, while you were, er, checking it out?”

Kiki described the bedroom, the office, the flight deck and the galley. This was new for her, even though, for an aboriginal Indian, she was actually quite worldly. Then she changed the subject. “Erin has been very quiet lately, don’t you think?”

“She must have a lot on her mind,” Watson pondered out loud. “She contributed tremendously to the last mission. I’m sure we’ll hear more from her as this one unfolds.”

They both looked over at Erin. She had a book upside down in her lap, and was sleeping in one of the plane’s reclining seats. “Let her sleep,” Kiki suggested. “We’ll have to wake her up as soon as Finnegan is ready to brief us about the mission.”

“I’m ready for that. I was hoping he would brief us before we took off. Not that I would have changed my mind about coming.” Watson blew out a strained breath, and whispered, “The suspense is killing me.”

Kiki leaned over and whispered back into Watson’s ear, “At least it’s only the suspense.” She kissed him on the cheek. “For now.”


#14
Reclining in the plush seating and enjoying the ambiance onboard allowed for relaxation--a respite from earlier experiences. Might as well enjoy it while I can, Erin thought before she fell asleep and entered dreamworld and watched herself as if onscreen. There...there he was, that foreigner, someone familiar, who appeared suddenly and abducted her. Her eyes opened and took in her surroundings. Was it a chapel? A church? A sanctuary? Some kind of ..oh no...it's a wedding--hers...theirs... and he'd arranged it. She moved in her sleep..jerking slightly, and then gasping.

"Are you okay? a voice asked, greatfully startling her out of sleep.

"I...I'm okay. I just need a nice stiff drink, " she managed to say, a frown crossing her forehead. Glancing out the window, the clouds looked much like cotton candy, puffy and soft. Below, the continent shifted away from California, across deserts, plains, major cities, zoomed past skyscrapers, and away from family, freinds, and stressful situations and Jake, her last "relationship". Just the thought of his manipulations made her stomach turn. Worse yet, she could kick herself for being just too gullible, too naeve, too anything to prevent it.

Brian was up and walking past her, and stopped when she asked, "Any hard liquor up there?"

"Sure is. Hmm...what do you like?" He noticed her hand tremble slightly.

"That depends. Think I'll get into trouble for drinking while jetting across the continent? Amaretto, maybe in some coffee? Eh, maybe I should..." She started to rise.

He motioned for her to stay sitting. "Let me get it for you."

Several minutes later he returned with nice sized coffee cup, set on paper doily on a saucer, plus cream and sugar. And a few miniature bottles of Amaretto. "There you go."

"Thanks." She smiled. To bad they didn't have some mocha also. After he'd continued toward the back. she slipped one of the bottles into her bag.

#15





Gunther had been summoned to Mr Cowl's office again.

"This is it," Cowl said. "Ford and his band of Ford-ups are on their way here to New York. As soon as they file a flight plan from New York then we'll know where they are headed."

Gunther frowned. "I thought our bug picked up Ford saying New York, then London, then Greece?"

"That's what Ford said, Gunther, but if he suspected the room was bugged...?"

"Oh. So maybe he was fibbing. But what if he gets to New York and then files a false flight plan?"

"Unlikely. The FAA doesn't take kindly to pilots who play games. I've assigned one of our private jets to you along with an assistant. Are you ready to roll?"

"Yes."

"There is a chopper on the helipad now to take you to the airport. Good luck, Gunther."

"Thank you, sir."

They shook hands. Gunther went back to his office, said good-bye to Miss Prettygood, and 15 minutes later was on the roof stepping into one of Cowl Corporations green-and-white helicopters.

At the airport he met his new assistant, Menthol Pride.

"That's an unusual name," Gunther said.

"Pride is an old family name in the Chesapeake Bay area."

"No, I meant Menthol."

"That's a long story. I'm sure we'll have some time to kill later and I'll tell you."

"OK," Gunther said. "Something to look forward to."

Menthol Pride was a very ordinary-looking man, despite his unusual name, and was reputed to be excellent at shadowing, tracking, trailing, and blending in. Within 5 minutes of meeting him Gunther was no longer aware of Menthol's presence. That's how good Menthol was. When he spoke again Gunther was briefly startled.

"Have you met our pilot? He says he knows you."

"Really?" Gunther said. "What's his name?"

"Lars Oldenfinger."


#16
The drive to the airport gave Harrison a brief moment to reflect on his current commitment with Finnegan Ford. Reuniting with Watson, an old comrade, was nice, but he couldn't help but notice that his lovely fiancée, Kiki, was intrigued with his addition to the team. Hawk would never purposely upset his good friend, Watson, so he decided to downplay Kiki's reaction...for now.

Now aboard the plane, Harrison would treat the flight to New York as a final bit of rest and casual time before the business of the mission is at hand. While touring the plane before lifting off, Hawk found himself accompanied by Kiki, not much to his surprise. There were plenty of luxurious details about this airliner, which was quite similar to Harrison's own private jet. The two of them had entered the bedroom, and for a very brief moment, stood in silence before Kiki spoke. "It's very nice, isn't it, Mr. Hawk?" she asks, with a slight sparkle in her eye. Hawk, in a moment of awkwardness, quickly responds, "Yes, yes it is indeed, but the kitchen area and bar were really nice." and turns around the other way to exit the room. Harrison could tell that this was going to be a long, and quite interesting mission.

Back in the lounge area of the plane, Hawk spots Finnegan pouring himself a drink, and he decides to join him. "Ah, Mr. Harrison Hawk. I'm so glad you decided to join me on my quest. Your knowledge and experience will come in quite handy. Would you like a drink?" Harrison politely accepts Ford's offer, and the two of them sit down to talk. "I made a few last minute additions to the food manifest to accommodate your unique dining tastes, Mr. Hawk. I know you will share the same meals with us on occasion, but you also like to eat some culinary concoctions that the rest of us have not added to our diets. I wanted to make sure that your legendary eating habits remained intact during our journey together." Hawk was rather pleased with this personal touch on his behalf, and he thanked Finnegan for his thoughtfulness. "I will be sure to take advantage of that, Mr. Ford, probably after we change flights in New York."

As the flight continues, Finnegan Ford decides to spend the remainder of the time on his own, in his private den, going over his presentation he will give to the group once they depart for London. Meanwhile, back in the lounge, Mr. Watson decides to join his old friend Harrison Hawk for a drink. "So, Harrison, I see you and Finnegan have hit it off rather well. He is an extraordinary man, and we have been through a lot together, dealing with the Cowl Corporation. They have been a thorn in our side for years, always trying, albeit unsuccessfully, to destroy Ford and the Ford Foundation." Hawk nods his head, and tells Watson that he has heard of the Cowl Corporation, but has never dealt with them personally.

Watson looks at his long time friend, smiles, and then casually asks, "Did you enjoy touring the plane earlier with Kiki? She told me the two of you took a look around." Harrison pauses briefly, then replies, "Yes, I did actually. She seems very nice. You found yourself quite an interesting woman, my friend. I wish you the best." "Thank you, Hawkster, um, sorry, Harrison, old habits are hard to break, but I'll work on it." says Watson, a brief smile smile on his face. Kiki enters the room, sees Hawk and Watson chatting, and asks how everything is going. "Everything is just fine, my dear. Mr. Hawk and I were just talking about you. He wished you and I the best together." "Why thank you, Harrison, for those kind words. It's a pleasure to have met you." she replies. "The pleasure is all mine." says Hawk, as he reaches for her hand and gives it a little kiss. "I'll leave the two of you alone for a while. I'm going to catch a brief nap before we change flights."

Kiki turns to give Watson a warm, wet kiss, then smiles at Hawk as he leaves the room. Yes, indeed, it was going to be a very long, interesting mission. Who knows what will happen in the days ahead.


#17

Mack mostly kept to himself on the flight to New York, partly because he needed to watch and observe the quirks others to better affiliate himself with them, and partly because he was still beat. As the hours went on he found himself in the presence of Harrison Hawk, who was gorging on a pork chop smothered in hollandaze and peanut butter. Mack just watched, compleatly astonished as Harrison ate, who was oblivious of Mack for a few minutes. After a while Hawk noticed the mammoth of a man standing behind him and nonchalantly stated, "Wanna bite?"

Little known to many, but the crux of "Mighty" Mack McPhee's character, he was a man who danced with death. You didn't get the top position in an Evil Organization and the nickname "Mighty" for nothing. And what better way to prove his worth to this man than by chowing down to a questionable meal with him?

Mack sat down. "Yeah, I'd like that." Harrison Hawk suddenly erupted in a deep chortle, almost gagging on his chop.

"Wow! No one's ever said that before! I think I'm going to like you, friend."

Mack pulled a fork from his pocket. "Mack's the name," ate he took a bite.



Watson looked up from his comfortable seat and saw the pilot scurrying out of the cockpit, into the middle of the lounge. He wore an American military uniform, and was surprisingly large and muscular for an Asian man. He was holding, almost waving, a piece of paper. Maybe a photograph, Watson thought.

“Ah, may I have everyone attention prease?” the pilot asked with a thick staccato Asian accent, in an urgency that made it more of an announcement than a question. He was using a loud voice to outcompete the jet engine noise. “I just leceive impoltant interrigence from satellite leconnaissance people on glound.”

“You have what?” Mack asked.

“Leconnaissance! Leconnaissance!” The pilot yelled, obviously excited. “I have photoglaph taken from spy satellite! It is photo of loof of Cowl building. Showing three people boarding hericopter! Maybe are bad people. Take a rook!”

“Hericopter?” Mack asked. The rest of the group in the cabin were already up and crowded around the pilot. “What’s a hericopter?”

Suddenly, Brian burst from a back compartment. “And who exactly are you?” he asked in an accusatory tone. “And why are you talking to my team?”

“I am the pirot,” the pilot answered, looking at Brian.

“Pirate? You’re a pirate?” Mack interjected, and stepped forward, putting a fork into his breast pocket.

“No! The pirot,” the pilot repeated, not in the least flustered. “The pirot. I am the pirot of this airclaft.”

“We don’t let Pirates on this plane,” Brian said.

“Relax Brian.” Finnegan appeared almost as fast as Brian had. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Major Kissawalla Mei, of the U.S. Air Force. At my request, he has been assigned to transport us to our destination. He and I have worked together many times, and I can assure you, there is no better pilot, or friend, than Major Kiss Mei.”

“Kiss?” Erin spoke up. “Kiss Mei?”

“Not light now, maybe rater,” Kiss answered. “First you have to see this photo.”

The group passed it around, and Finnegan finally took it. “There are three people getting into this chopper on the Cowl building," he began, "and I think we all recognize this guy.” He pointed at one of the figures in the photo.

“That’s Gunther Gritz,” two of the others said in unison.

“That can’t be good,” Watson remarked. “Who is the other guy?”

“Two other guys,” Finnegan corrected.

“Oh, sorry. For some reason I forgot about that third guy being there,” Watson said.

“I know one of those guys,” the pilot said, “It is an old rival of mine. He is bad bad man, but very good pirot.” Major Mei continued, “His name is Lars Oldenfinger. He cannot be trusted.”

“So we have Gritz and Oldenfinger. Anyone know who the third guy is?” Finnegan asked.

Watson spoke up, “It’s almost certain that Cowl has sent these men to follow us. I hope your plan can take that into account, Finn.”

“Believe me,” Finn responded seriously, “When I reveal my plan to you, you’ll be amazed at the unparalleled brilliance of it combined with its intensely sublime simplicity. When you hear my plan, you will swear that the heavens were opening and angels were singing." He looked at each one of them in turn, and continued, “I know every one of you is contributing to the mission. Everyone is loyal to the team and is performing admirably. Maybe it’s the nanites, but just for now skip me, and I’ll come back later and reveal my plan.” He maneuvered toward the rear cabin holding onto chair backs, one at a time, until he reached the door. He entered and soundlessly closed it.

Watson was worried. Finn was sick, and Gritz was after them. And who was this Major Kiss Mei? He aimed to figure it out. “Hey Kiss,” Watson called loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Yes, Special Agent Watson sir?” Answered Major Mei, formally.

“You know my name?

“Yes. I know all of you. Especially you, Mr. Watson. Air Force interrigence works crosely with the CIA. Very -- closely -- I -- mean--” Kiss deliberately corrected his pronunciation, then explained, “ “I am trying to get lid of my accent.”

“How long have you been in the U.S., Kiss?”

“I am fifth generation American. I was born in Rong Island.”

“So why do you—“ Watson was suddenly interrupted as the plane lurched sharply to the left. A hissing squeal heralded the dropping of oxygen masks from ceiling compartments. Major Mei ran toward the flight deck, dove in, and disappeared from view. The rest of the group found seats and strapped in as the plane dropped.
Loose items crashed against the ceiling. Drinks flew. Clumps of food resembling burrito filling flew toward Watson and splatted on the bulkhead. A small amount hit his cheek, and he hoped it really was burrito filling. You never really knew when Hawk was eating nearby.

The plane suddenly leveled out and lurched upward, pushing everyone deep into their seats. It felt like the gravity had increased several fold. Watson could feel his lips peeling back.

“W-What’s happening?” Erin screamed.

“Parabolic Arc!” Kiki yelled out. The wind noise roared, and muffled her voice. So she yelled louder, “We’ll probably be weightless in a few moments!”

And then -- they were weightless. The silence was broken when Brian threw up. No, Watson thought with twisted relief, not like the burrito filling. Thirty seconds later, they were flying level, albeit in a very messy cabin.

“What was that all about? Mack asked, puffing.

“A parabolic arc flight pattern,” Kiki answered. “It’s a maneuver used in astronaut training to simulate zero gravity. The astronauts call the training plane they use the Vomit Comet.”

“I can see why,” Brian said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Now why would Major Kiss put us through that?” Erin asked.

“The Major was here in the cabin, with us,” Watson answered. “He was as surprised as we were.”

“What about the copilot?” wondered Erin.

“Dunno,” Watson replied, “but for now, everyone make sure you're strapped in good. Just in case.” But to himself, Watson added it to his list of worries: Finn was sick, Gritz was following, the pilot was suspicious, and strange events were happening on the flight. He knew the simplest explanation, whatever it was, was probably correct. That was some kind of philosophical principle, he recalled. At least he hoped, because otherwise, things were getting more complicated.


#19


Poor Finn, Erin thought. She'd turned her head toward him
as Finn stumbled toward the back cabin door., and shut it.

Maybe he needed to rest. Maybe he needed time to himself. Several minutes had
passed and she was still mulling over those thoughts, when all she wanted was to go to
him. She moved toward the door and leaned on it. She stared at the doorknob, bit her lip. The last time she had over-reacted and she didn't want to do that again. What good
would that do? Turning on her heel, she stepped toward her seat, but when the door creaked open, she stopped. "Finn? I'm sorry. We're you asleep?"

"No. Come in." After the door closed, the others looked at each other, an eyebrow raised, and someone shrugged.

Finn had sat down and then stretched out on a bed. Erin sat near him. He didn't look
that abnormal, except that tired look in his eyes. She glanced toward a bowl nearby and a washrag.

"Would you mind wetting that and bringing it to me?" Finn asked.

"No. I mean, yes of course I will." She returned with a bowl of water and the
rag, dipping it in. "Where do you want it?"

He pointed toward his forehead, and closed his eyes when she laid it on. it. After
several moments of silence, he opened his eyes slightly. "Okay. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing. Whatever made you think of that?" She lifted the washrag and turned it over. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, is all. "

"Tell me."

"It's just that....oh nothing."

"Come on, please."

"I'll be okay. You're not well and maybe this isn't the best time to..."

"Just tell me already!"

Okay, fine! How could you allow Mack to join us?"

"That's because...."

"He was on the other side, Finn. He HIT me too. Remember? And now..."

"You did hit him first, remember?" Finnegan responded.

"What?" Her hands were at her hips. She paced the floor, stopping short of hm.
"How can you even say that?. I was protecting you! "

"I know that, but you don't go around beating dangerous men on the head. It
> wasn't necessary." His tone was almost teasing, "Look at it this way..."
>
> "This way? You can't expect us to just sit back and let HIM," she pointed
> toward the other room, "HIM hover around and know things he wouldn't know
> otherwise."
>
> "I know you don't like him, but maybe if you stop for a minute, and allow me finish my sentences, I could. explain." He sat up, moved toward her.

"Explain what?" She backed toward the exit, but he stepped closer, and then right in front of her. She could feel the heat from his body. What she hadn't planned on was how his hands landed on either side, pinning her against the door. She detected a huskiness in his voice. He asked, "How do you know I didn't plan it this way? "

They lingered there. He was close, close enough that she was privy to the scent of his
after shave mixed with his body chemistry. She tried not to breathe in, but it was
ineviitable, and forgot what they were disagreeing about. He looked into her eyes, and
she had to stare back into his. Oh my god. He's going to kiss me." . The
worst part was that she wanted him to. She didn't move, and his movements were
painfully slow, as his mouth hovered over her own, just a breath away..

When she could barely stand it anymore, she ducked under his arm and returned to the edge of a chair.. "Okay. I'll give you five minutes to explain, and then I'm
leaving this room."

And so he did. The door opened and Finn and Erin stood there, chatting idly with Finn..
"When we get to New York, can we do a little street walking?" she asked.

Finn blushed.

All eyes turned to her, and she stared back. "What? Doesn't anyone do that
anymore? I want to wear the right clothes for the job."

"Street walking?" Finn repeated.

Watson covered his mouth with his hand. "Taking up a new hobby, Finn?"

"She didn't mean that." Finn told them.

They nodded back.

"Hmm?" Erin responded.

Finn took her by the elbow, guided her away from their listening ears, and whispered,
"I believe the correct term is window shopping."
>
"That's what I said." She scrunched up her forehead. "I think."

"No, what you said was..."

The plane jerked like it hit a speed bump, and anyone who was standing scrambled to their seat..
#20

The small sleek Cowl Corporation private jet cut through the sky high over the Atlantic. Lars looked over at Gunther. "I'll take de shortcut and vee vill get dere before dem."

"Shortcut? There's no shortcut."

"Haha! I know dat! Joost kidding vit you."

Menthol Pride tapped his headphones. "Just got word on the radio. Our reservations are confirmed in London."

Gunther frowned. "Cowl waited until the last minute to get us a room?"

"Cheaper that way. They used that last minute deal site on the internet."

"Agh! I hope they're not going to cheap out the whole mission. You tell them we want a decent rental car!"

"They say it's a Ford Fiesta."

"No! If we have to go small I want a Mini Cooper! And what the hell is the idea of picking a Ford? Do they even know what the mission is about?"

"You mean because Finnegan Ford and Ford the car share a name? I don't see any connection there. Why would they even worry about that?"

"It's a psychological connection, dammit! You tell them if they want results we have to have a cool car, maybe an Astin-Martin."

"You're not James Bond."

"And I never will be if I have to ride around Europe in a Ford Fiesta."

"The Fiesta is a good car. Consumer Reports said-"

"Shut up! You understand nothing I said!"

Everyone was silent for several awkward moments. The tension was high. Finally Gunther said, "OK, I'm sorry about that little outburst. I don't really like to fly all that much. It makes me nervous."

"No problem," Menthol said. "How about in a car? Do you get carsick?"

Gunther glared at Menthol and spoke slowly through clenched teeth. "No. It's just airplanes I don't like. Cars are fine."


To everyone’s relief, the plane stayed level and allowed them to clean up the mess. One by one they collapsed into their seats, a few with stiff drinks, and one with a chicken taquito.

“Wow, that almost made me toss my guts,” Harrison said as he threw his taquito aside.

“Yeah, those taquitos are a bit spicy,” Mack said.

“Not the food, Mack, that parabolic arc thing the plane did.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Now that it’s over,” Kiki interjected, “I’m still curious about our mission. I wish Finn--”

Just then, the back cabin’s hatch swung open and stuck magnetically to the sidewall. Finnegan came striding out, deliberately and with authority. Any trace of illness seemed gone. Or maybe just suppressed. In a booming voice, Finnegan announced to the group, “It’s time I told you why we’re here.” He sat down in a centrally located seat, and swiveled to face the group. The others looked like eager baby birds, about to hungrily suck the regurgitated chunky secretions from the nutritious momma-beak-of-knowledge.

“It’s a super-weapon.” Finn looked at each of them one at a time. “Do you understand what I’ saying?”

“No,” Watson answered for the group. “We don’t. Finnegan, are you feeling okay?" They all looked concerned.

“Never better.” Finn waved his hand as if to brush off their concern about his health. “Cowl’s people are building a super-weapon, capable of killing large numbers of people, while leaving buildings intact.”

“Like a neutron bomb?” Watson asked, and then added, “Those have been around for a long time, Finnegan.”

“No, nothing like a neutron bomb,” Finn continued, “My sources say it’s some sort of high power acoustic delivery system, focused through a vast and massive satellite network. “It’s really shocking; Edison could never have predicted his technology would lead to this. But like a neutron bomb, it can be aimed at whole cities, and kill every person, every animal, every insect, even every bacterium!” Finn looked intent, and carefully pronounced every next word, “Every… living… cell. Dead.”

The others were silent. They were in awe. But they were still glued to Finn’s every word.

“We have to find the weapon factory, and take the weapon. It’s the most important mission we’ve ever undertaken,” Finn said, almost in a resigned tone.

“Take the weapon?” Watson was incredulous. “We should just destroy it! Any weapon capable of so much destruction shouldn’t be owned by anybody!”

“It’s more valuable intact, Watson,” Finn said. We can reverse engineer it and use it for good.”

“What kind of good could come out of it?” Harrison asked with his mouth somehow again full.

“The kind of good we always do, Hawk. After all, we’re the Ford Foundation. Let’s not Forget that.”

The other’s nodded.

Watson felt down into his travel bag and was relieved to find that he had remembered to bring his noise cancelling headphones. Bose rocks, Watson thought.


#22
***********
A phone rang and everyone grabbed at their cellphones to see if it was theirs, until they heard the James Bond theme playing and Erin answered it. "Aunt Rose..."

"Where am I? I'm flying to New York City."

*slight pause

"Yes. Well, it's really hard to explain, but I'm helping the Ford Foundation."

*another pause

"What do I do? I uh translate languages and er...other things I can't even mention on here."

"Oh. Did he? I don't care. I am done with him. No. I don't expect to be home for several weeks." Okay. Love ya."

She slid the phone closed. Reaching out, she started to pick up her knitting needles, but decided against it. Good thing she thought to bring something along to amuse herself. It passed the time away. She wondered how anyone could be so alone with so many people around.

Kiki spoke over her shoulder, and interupted her thoughts. "I've always wanted to learn that," she said. "What are you making?"

She held the triangular piece up. "Im not sure yet. It could be a bikini. What do you think?" Erin laughed.

"Maybe."

"Want me to make you one?"

"That's nice of you to ask, sweetie, but in my country we don't normally wear them."

"Oh? What do you wear?" Probably they went commando. She hadn't read up on what exotic island princesses do wear during a swim.

"Whatever I want really, or nothing at all, but I'll keep your offer in mind."

"Mmm. Okay."

She'd gotten several rows done, sighed, then unraveled it because she'd made a mistake. Finally, she laid it down, and picked up her coffee cup, took a several more sips before setting it back down. Staring into her coffee cup, thoughts of Gunther and his band of miscreants invaded her mind.

Time for a new cup. She left her seat and was on her way for a refill. Watson was walking by, but then air currents caused the contents of the cup to spill over and land on his shoes. Italian leather. Uhoh, she thought.

She knelt and used the napkin in her hand to dab at the moisture there, only to look up to see him looking down at her.

"I..I'm so sorry..."

He offered his hand and helped her up. "Are you okay?"

Funny he should ask. Somehow he'd sprouted two heads, four eyes, and multiple appendages, and everyone behind him was almost identical. Harrison was busy chowing down with octupus-like arms. She turned her head sideways, blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked at Watson again. He was back to normal.

"Erin?"

She peered into the cup she was still holding. Whoah. Strong brew? Maybe I better lay off for a while.

Finn appeared in Watson's place, who had returned to Kiki. "Erin??" Finn snapped his fingers several times. His hand at her waist was reassuring. "You don't look well. Let me help you to your seat."

After making sure she was secure, he left and found Brian. "Something isn't right. I don't like it. Erin's acting awfully strange lately. Find out what's she been drinking and how much she's had, and has anyone else had the same thing?"

"I'll get right on that."

#23

"Vee are almost dere!" Lars said.

Gunther sighed. "Long flight."

Menthol was trimming his fingernails. "Say, Gunther. What do you think it will be like for you to see Erin again?"

"Who?" Gunther said.

"Erin. You know, the chick you had the hots for and stole from Ford but then he got her back."

Gunther shrugged. "I don't know what playbook you've been reading from but I think you got your scenes mixed up."

"Like your metaphors," Menthol said.

"Look!" Lars said. "London! Dead ahead!"

#24
Finnegan Ford moved out of the way for Brian so he could go below and look at the drink inventory. He went back into his office for a few seconds and came back out with a stethoscope, a clear bag of saline solution and an I.V. needle with tubing. He walked back over to Erin and sat down next to her.

“You funny lookin', Fordy...” Erin laughed as she tried to speak to Finn and touch his face.

“I know, I know...”

Ford put the stethoscope to her heaving chest and listened intently to her racing heart. He inserted the I.V. Needle and connected to the bag of saline and hung it from a hook in the ceiling by the vent and light. He looked into her eyes by holding her eyelids open and opened and closed the pull down blinds of the jets' windows. He suddenly knew what this was.

“Psilocybin...” Finn said outloud. “Brian!” He yelled.

Brian came up and ran over to Finn, wondering what was up.

“She has been dosed. The ingredient in Psychodellic Mushrooms, Psilocybin.”

“How do we counter it?” Brian asked, looking around for anything that might be useful.

“We don't... Not really. This is what we do, Brian.”

Finn whispered into Brian's ear and Brian sprang into action; running to the cockpit and closing the door behind him.

“If I can have everyone's attention!” Finnegan Ford stood up and addressed everyone in the plane. “We are making a change. When we get to New York, everyone is staying on the plane and we going straight to Greece...”

#25

Kiki and Watson, puzzled, looked at each other and then back at Ford.

"Straight to Greece?" asked Watson. "Why the sudden change, Finn?"

"Several reasons," Ford answered calmly. "It looks like Erin has psilocybin poisoning. Hopefully, she's the only one. But it's clear that someone must have had access to this aircraft and planted the hallucinogen. Someone obviously knows our plans." Ford went on, "So I'm changing them."

"Several," Watson blurted.

"What?"

"Several. You said there were several reasons."

"There are," Ford answered. "We know Gritz is trying to follow us. If we didn't expect to go straight to Greece, then Gritz wouldn't expect us to either. He's probably on his way to London right now. We have to keep making surprising moves if we want to keep ahead of him."

"And?" Watson asked, shooting Ford a suspicious squint.

"And what?"

"And, what you're not saying," Watson retorted. "You're not saying that you think someone on this plane could be a spy for Gunther Gritz. Or Cowl. Tell us, Ford, do you think one of us can't be trusted?"

"No Watson," Ford said, "That's not what I'm saying. I trust all of you. But I can't explain everything that's been happening on this plane, and I just want to get to our destination. As soon as possible."

Kiki interjected, "There certainly have been some weird things happening so far." Everyone's attention focused on her. Summarizing, she rattled off the events, "First there was the unexpected air turbulence. Then the visit from that strange Asian pilot who has a thick accent, even though he claims he's a fifth generation American. And while the pilot was in the cabin with us, the plane pulled a parabolic arc flight pattern that turned it into a vomit comet! Now Erin is drugged, and maybe some of the rest of us are too!" Kiki continued, "And I also noticed that the food was disappearing! What's next? A gremlin on the wing?"

"Hhhurucccccchhhhh....." A loud throat-clearing noise came from the back of the cabin. It was Harrison Hawk, apparently getting ready to say something. He brushed crumbs off the front of his shirt. He gasped a little but then took in a deep breath. "That was me," he said.

"What? The gremlin?" Kiki said, confused.

"No, not the gremlin - the food. It was me. I have to admit, I ate most of it. So it didn't just disappear." Hawk burped. "I mean it did disappeared, sort of, but not in a mysterious kind of way."

There were a few astonished murmurs, some louder than others, but Kiki finished up anyway, "Well, regardless of the food, I'm just saying I agree with Finnegan. Something's not right, and we should get to headquarters as soon as possible. I'm sure, long before we get that far, we'll know if everyone can be trusted." Kiki paused and swept her eyes around the cabin. "Or not."

Watson pulled himself up from the deep, plush seat, and stood up. Deliberately, he turned to face Mack, and raised a pointed finger in his direction. "Well, if we're voting for the least trustworthy, I vote for him!"

Mack turned his head, slowly making eye contact with Watson. "We'll see who on this plane can't be trusted." Mack didn't blink. "We'll just see."

More murmurs echoed quietly through the tense air of the cabin.


#26
Where am I now? Erin thought. She'd turned attention to the direction of the sounds the chickens, looked sleepily through slitted eyes and blurred vision while a big yellow Bird alternately stuffed down and brought up assorted Mexican food, and then laid an egg.


"A fax came in from the Ford Foundation. Here is the report," said Brian.

"What I wonder is if it is used for anything other than recreational drugs."

"Have you heard for the Harvard Project? It says here that the drug was used on cancer patients--the ones who were terminally ill. But it's also been given to people who have OCD: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and people with Cluster headaches."

"She does have Cluster headaches. As far as I know, she's not OCD. Let me see that."

Brian handed him the papers. "You don't think..."

Finn scrutinized the pages. "No but we better check anyway. She might not like this but we have to check her luggage." Finn said. No telling what's in there. He wondered if there might be some frilly lingerie, or lady's Jockey underwear. "On second thought, never mind, I'll do it myself."

"Why would anyone want to do that to her?" Kiki asked. "And how long will the effects last?"

"Several hours, possibly up to 8 hours, Alcohol intensifies the effects. We've got to divert her if she decides to drink." Finn scratched his chin. "A soothing environment helps. Put on some classical music." Meanwhile, Finn tried to think back if anyone on board had OCD tendencies.

"The good news is that more than likely she wont' die," added Harrison.

"So there is a possibility?" Watson asked.
# 27

Gunther, Lars, and Menthol sat in a pub in London near the airport.

"I don't get it," Menthol said. "They should have landed by now."

Gunther scratched his grizzly chin. He had decided to grow a beard, just a short one, but still keep his blond flat top haircut. It should look great with the right sunglasses. "Yeah, they should have. Obviously Mother Cowl has given us bad information. Let me make a phone call, gents."

While Gunther tapped in the secret phone number on his cell, carefully holding it so Lars and Menthol could not see what he was doing, they chugged their beers and ordered another round. "Want to try a game of darts?" Menthol asked.

"I don't see vhy not," Lars said. "I vunce vass der dart shampion of my shkool. You vill not beat me."

"We'll see," Menthol said. "I'm no stranger to a dart board myself. I was the national champion of Nicaragua three years in a row."

Lars waggled a finger at him. "You exaggerate. Talk is cheap. Ve vill see."

But before they could toss a single dart, Gunther slammed his cell shut and was on his feet. "Let's roll, boys. Change of plans. Say good-bye to London."

"Aw, shucks!" Lars said. "Vell, maybe ve vill get anudder chance to play der darts."

"Yeah, maybe," Menthol muttered and tossed a few coins on the table for the buxom barmaid.

#28
Finnegan went back into the planes office and sat down at the mohagony desk that his grandfather used to sit at. He

reflected on the events of the past few days and let out a heavy sigh. Times are changing, he thought. He started to have

an idea which, as it usually does, grew into a full fledged plan. A smile crossed his lips as he went into action in true Finnegan

Ford fashion. Finn picked up the phone and called an associate in New York.

As They approached LaGuardia Airport Erin was starting to feel like her old self again. she still felt a bit woozy from being

drugged as she slowly stood up and made her way back to the lavratory. On her way she past Hawk who looked up with a mouth full of

Frito Pie. He had some sour cream and Frito crumbs on his face and he quickly tried to wipe it off as he saw Erin walk by.

"You okay?" He said as he stood up to catch her since she didn't look too stable.

"Fine, Hawk. Just going to powder my nose," she smiled. "You missed some," she said as she pointed to Hawks shirt.

"Glad to see you up and around, toots." Harrison wondered why he called her toots. He seemed to get a little verklempt whenever

she was around. He laughed it off and sat down.

Erin splashed some cold water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. I should have brought my purse, she thought

to herself. These eyes and lips need touching up. She finished up and, feeling better, went out and back to her seat.

The others were sitting around the cabin, chatting. They looked up and saw Erin and gave comment about how it was nice to see her

doing better.

Finnegan boldly walked out of his office and to the front of the plane. He opened the cockpit door and whispered something to the

pilot and closed the door. He walked back and addressed everyone.

As soon as Finn started talking, his very demeanor put everyone at ease. Everyone except for Mack had seen this version of Finn

before. Arrogant and sure. Finn was back!

"Good afternoon friends. I come to you with yet another change in plans but I cannot tell you what they are yet. I have reason to

believe that this plane is bugged and that multiple items were tampered with. We are landing in LaGuardia in moments and I will

reveal more then. For now, please don't eat or drink anything or talk about our mission. Any damage that has already been done is

water under the bridge, so to speak." Finnegan Ford went back into the office and closed the door.

Hawk looked up, mouth full of Key Lime Pie and swallowed hard, eyes wide. He got up and threw the remains into the trash and sat

back down. The sad look on his eyes showed his frustration for the situation.

The plane landed successfully at the airport and pulled into a private hanger for the Ford Foundation; the hanger door closed behind them. Finnegan came out and handed each of them a piece of paper. They looked at it.

"We change Planes Now."

They filed out and Brian grabbed some important papers and equipment. They went into another, identical jet. While they were

getting in, they noticed that the tail numbers were being changed so that they matched the one that flew them from San Diego.

"I will be right back," Finn said as he strode over to a large truck with a huge metal container. He was greated by a man in a

lead apron and opened the door to allow him inside.

The team got in the plane and noticed right away that the inside was much different. This was more of a Command Post and offered

seating at computer stations and large LCD screens that showed all sorts of information on the state of the world and weather.

Finnegan came in and talked with some Ford Foundation Security personel who had devices with large anntena that were sweeping the

plane.

Finnegan Smiled and stood in front of the cabin as the doors closed and the Engines roared to life.

"Okay, now that we are truly alone. welcome to the Ford Foundations Newest Flagship, The Spirit of Santorini. Everything and

everyone has been swept for bugs and non-approved agriculture and metals. No offense to anyone, of course." Finn bowed slightly.

"We are going to Greece but not the way you think. This plane has a few secrets. So sit back and enjoy the ride. At least it's not

a dirigible, right?" Hawk and Mack looked at Finn with some confusion. Finnegan looked straight at them and said, "More on that

later."

#29

{/c:green}


“What does he have against dirigibles?” Kiki whispered into Watson’s ear. “Is he insulting my prowess as a dirigible pilot?”

“He’s just kidding, Kiki. Nobody would every question anything you do,” Watson whispered back into Kiki’s ear, as he leaned in a little closer. The aroma of animalistic sexuality always hung about her like an aura, and Watson took in an extra sniff. You can take the girl out of the jungle..., he thought, and breathed deep. Kiki turned, smiled, and pulled away, as if to say Now’s not the time for that… but maybe later.

Watson glanced around the cabin. Highly technical equipment lined the walls, only some of which Watson recognized. He made his way over to a console and sat in the integrated padded chair, giving him an ergonomically correct view of multiple monitor readouts. He looked but didn’t touch anything; he didn’t want to screw anything up before he was told how things worked. On the monitor directly in front of him, there was a white orb shooting back and forth on the screen, from side to side, in rhythmic order. Periodically, the orb seemed to bounce off the sides and back into the center of the monitor. What was it? Some sort of radiation monitor? A solar flare detector? Whatever it was, it fascinated Watson.

“Hey Finn!” Watson called across the cabin. “What does this monitor show?”

Finnegan was already making his way over to Watson. He came up next to Watson and leaned into the screen. “That’s ‘Pong,’ Watson.” He reached over and flipped a switch. The default Windows 7 popped up, and he walked away.

Wow. Pong, Watson thought. Pong….Pong….how cool… I wonder if that’s some sort of new radiation detector. Watson marveled over the buttons like a kid picking out a prize at the county fair, but didn’t touch anything.

Ferocious clicking noises came from the other end of the plane’s cabin. Watson turned to see Kiki pounding away on a keyboard as though she had worked the console for years. He marveled at how adept she was at everything she did. Suddenly she stopped, looked up, and called out. “Finn, you did say we were going to Greece, yes?”

“Yes, we are,” Finn responded.

“Then there’s something you have to see on these real-time, high-definition, graphical, intercontinental electromagnetic resonant flux maps of the world,” Kiki said as she took a deep, collected breath, and pointed at the monitor.

Anybody else would have interpreted Kiki’s remarks as just techno-babble. But Finn new better, and made his way over to Kiki.


#30
Mmm, nice. Erin thought, settled into her ergonomic seat, found her mouse and researched Greece. Thoughts of Greek gods in togas filled her mind. Men in togas. These men? No way!

The thought of Finn in a toga was rather thought provoking. "Hah!" she'd said out loud, and then caught herself. More than likely the place was amercanized in several ways, just like certain european cities, and teaming with modern people with modern clothing, using modern vehicles by now. The food eaten surely was glorious and at least one member of the crew would be estatic.

She'd heard about some historical winged men's shoes created in the city of Corinth. Surely, it was just a fable. Still, she wondered if they still made anything similar and what they might cost. Maybe Finn would like a pair. After all, hadn't she read that what shoe a person wears says a lot about them.


Hopefully. Greece had kept their lovely roman columns, or was that Italy?

Finding a website, she sent out a group email to everyone, including Finn.

Hey there,

Just wanted to say that it's good to be back. I can hardly wait to get to our destination. I found this website and figured it might be helpful.
http://www.helleniccomserve.com/greeklifestyle.html

If you happen to find anything else, drop me a line or two.

Thanks.
Erin. #31

Gunther was excited. "Message from Mother Cowl, boys! They've intercepted an email. Looks like Greece is Finnegan's destination!"

"Oh boy!" Lars said. "But I thought Finnegan had tight security?"

"Apparently not. Probably one of his floozies spilled the beans."

"So now what?" Menthol said.

"So now we fly to Greece. There's worst places to be than Greece."

"Then you haven't been watching the news. The country is falling apart. They are having riots and strikes."

"Are they?" Gunther said. "Well, no matter to us. Our mission is Finnegan. The Greeks can riot all they want."

Finnegan Ford walked back and forth from his office to the cockpit of the Ford Foundations Mobile Air Command's (MAC) interior. He stopped breifly at several terminals and typed various entries into the keyboards and waited for the results. Finn hit play on his iPod and plugged it into the input jack at one of the terminals and "Last Breath" by Shocking Edison started playing at a medium volume.

The phone rang and Finnegan picked it up., "Ford."

A smail crossed Finn's lips as he nodded. "Thank you doctor, good news indeed."

Finn put back the phone and went into his office.

Erin looked at Watson and Kiki who exchanged similar glances of confusion. Erin got up and walked over to Watson who was sitting by Kiki's seat at one of the many computer terminals.

"Do you think everything's okay?" Erin asked.

"I think everything is fine," Kiki whispered. "Did you not see that smirk?"

"I wonder what is going on?"

Kiki looked at Watson, "Knowing Ford he has already figured everything out and is pouring himself a drink as we speak."

In Ford's office he took a sip of the tumbler of Jameson he just poured and relaxed back in his chair. A voice came over the intercom from the cockpit.

"We are approaching the Molly Brown, sir."

Finnegan hit the button on the intercom in reply, "Begin hovering procedure."

"Roger that, sir."

The plane swiftly started slowing down and losing attitude. The effect on the pasengers was one of surprise and confusion... Except for Hawk who was eating a Twinkie that he found in his jacket pocket that he bought at the hotel's commisary.

Finn strode out of his office and announced, "We are over the 'Unsinkable Molly Brown,' if everyone can grab their things and move towards the cockpit we will be departing in a few minutes."

As everyone took their own personal inventory a hissing sound was heard and a forward gangway opened and lowered down to the aft of a very large yacht. As the gangway lowered the cockpit section tilted up about twenty degrees.

Finnegna Ford was first off the plane and on the ship, "Ahoy! Welcome abourd the Molly Brown!!"

#33
After everyone was settled in and stowed what little luggage they had with them, Ford called a meeting in the lounge.

"As you know, we are here to find the Antikythera Mechanism."

"Why does it have to be found?" Erin asked. "I thought you said it had been recovered from the sea in 1900. Isn't it in a museum or somewhere known?"

© Copyright 2010 EvilDawg - Vigilante Ranger!!, EarlyHours-A Vigilante Ranger, ~MysticMoon~aka SilverMoon, Steev the Friction Wizurd, Mike~Dolphins Fan 4 Life, TSC, (known as GROUP).
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