The Not So Lonesome Knight: Mistake at the Motel

Untitled Part 17

The two FLAG agents aren't given much of an opportunity to react. Michael finds himself making an agonizing split-second decision. Does he race across the room to retrieve his gun in the off chance that he could neutralize a few of the uninvited interlopers or does he pull Bonnie as far from the looming danger as possible?

Adrenaline and instinct kick in simultaneously. His protective hands urge Bonnie out of bed and towards the bathroom. Internally, he prays that his body can fashion enough of a shield until he could barricade her behind the door. It is not a full-blown plan but it was the best he could formulate under the circumstances.

Bonnie blindly ambles in Michael's wake, having been partially paralyzed by the cold terror swirling through her entire circulatory system. Her trembling fingers curl tightly around his hand as she cowers in his shadow. "Think these are the same guys who broke into our last room and then stole my clothes?"

"I don't know, Bons, but I'm pretty sure we're about to find out. I'm thinkin' there is a very high likelihood these goons are one and the same." Michael replies stiffly, through his tightly clenched teeth. An air of control attempts to filter through the panic in his azure orbs.

Reflecting on the earlier incident when she had been scared enough to look, Bonnie makes a terrible realization. "There is no back way out of this room. Is there?"

He could feel the heavy pang of his heart against the insides of his rib-cage. "No." He grumbles, despising the very sound of his own reply. That was a problem Michael hoped he wouldn't have to manufacture an answer for. However, now that Bonnie mentioned it, it sent his mind reeling. His lips purse firmly together. While he didn't mind putting himself in precarious positions, he never wanted to do so with Bonnie. Tonight, it would seem that he'd have no choice. They were trapped! Offering Bonnie a shred of hope, Michael adds, "but we're going to be fine. We have the upper hand. We have Kitt. Remember?"

How could she have ever forgotten about Kitt? There was hope after all!!!

While they move, Michael pulls the com-link close to his mouth. "Kitt? Where are ya, Buddy? We're gonna need ya." He beckons, the tension in his chord laying thicker than peanut butter. He continued edging himself in front of Bonnie as the Colombians close in upon them like a pack of ravenous wolves.

Instead of receiving the typical answer, the line of communication fizzles into an unexpected and eerie static. Not even the swishing of Kitt's continual moving scanners offers a response.

Bonnie designed all of Kitt's functions far better than airlines did black-boxes!! Kitt doesn't just unexpectedly fail!!!

Before the horror could fully register a rough, heavily accented voice, barks for them to cease their retreat with the promise of firing upon them should they fail to comply.

Their movements towards the bathroom halts in response. Bonnie's uncertain gaze flashes up to read Michael's reaction to the threats.

Michael finds himself weighing the options. While conceding to the enemy was never a reasonable nor wonderful solution, he can't risk further endangering Bonnie's life or any of the other innocent motel patrons. They are heavily outnumbered two to eleven, outgunned, and surrounded. From his experience as a cop, Knight quickly assesses that any attempts to put up a fight would be futile and could potentially end in bloodshed. Especially, if he couldn't rely on immediate assistance from Kitt. After a moment's deliberation, Michael decides to make a proposition. "I'll tell ya what. I'll come with you willingly if ya promise to leave her behind and that you won't harm her."

Bemused, the hardened Colombian enforcer's brow rose an inch. His harsh lips upturn just enough to emit a laugh before giving a gruff reply, "No." Taking steps towards Michael and Bonnie he adds, "you see, we no negotiate with you. He wants you both, we give him you both." The stony cold expression never wavered even as he snaps his fingers to command his host of foot-soldiers. Within seconds, Bonnie and Michael are surrounded by seven of the eleven men. That left four guards, two on each side of the door.

Obviously, making a deal with the goons wasn't on the tables. Michael's shoulders slump in defeat. Pulling his nose into a scrunch and delivering a snarl, Knight retorts, "just who is this leader anyways?" He pauses before sarcastically spitting, "the king of the Looney-bin?"

The head enforcer's eyes narrow.

Michael's wisecrack draws a brief hint of a smile to Bonnie's face. If she wasn't so scared, she might have allowed herself to laugh freely. Somehow she believed that any display of amusement would not be well-received. Especially, when she and Michael both have the barrels of high-powered guns nuzzled uncomfortably into their backs.

"Senior Orlando Calderone and his mistress send their greetings." The enforcer's gravelly voice finally conveys.

The two FLAG agents find their countenances exuding maximum confusion. The name revealed certainly didn't ring a bell. Who was he? Who the hell was his mistress? What did they want? To the best of their combined knowledge, the Foundation never delved into the illicit activities of anyone owning that name. However, the mistress could be any woman at all, even Grace Stevens. In a way, it felt as though, they were still getting nowhere fast.

Although, the last name Calderone did give off a faint spark of recognition somewhere in the shadowy recesses of Michael Long's mind. But the memories that belonged to Knight's previous identity were buried, heavily dusted over and mangled in the cob-webs of time. He says nothing to that effect, worried that any minuscule sliver of remembrance might result in the placement of a bullet in his head or heart. Or worse, in Bonnie's.

Bonnie, having found herself with a distinct distaste for the enigmas known as Calderone and his mistress, vehemently retorts, "yeah. Well, you can tell them just where to shove those greetings!"

Unaffected by the woman's pointed words, the enforcer instructs his soldiers to do a pat-down on both the agents.

"I'll save you the trouble, my guns over there," Michael remarks. He just wants to get this over with as fast and painlessly as possible. One of the goons immediately confiscates the weapon. Much to Knight's annoyance, hands still inspect every inch of him.

Bonnie lets out a low growl at the invasive manhandling as one goon took a little longer on her than he should have. Before she could insist that he take his hands off of her, Michael strenuously interjected on her behalf. "Come on, Man! You and I both know she hasn't got a weapon under there. Leave her alone." He shrugs off the hands that were on him and threatens to grab the no-good pervert with the intention of flinging him across the room. It is clear that the Colombian had provoked his ire.

"It's okay, Michael. He's done." Bonnie shoots the Colombian foot-soldier a glance that practically dares him to defy her. There is something familiar about him. She has seen him before and somewhat recently too! But where? Her eyes squint as she attempts to recollect where. At the first convenience, she might ask Michael if he knows. That is, if they survived the miserable ordeal long enough to have an opportunity present itself.