The Sunday Cereal

As Special agents Gibbs and David ran back into the gallery, the heavy smell of gun smoke hung in the air.  

As they slowed their paces checking the area for any sign of the shooter, a voice rang out.

"Stop looking for Rabb, or you will face worse, this is my only warning to you."

Gibbs continued to move cautious in the gallery, he used hand gestures and nodding of his head to signal Special agent David to hear toward the back of the building silently.  She quickly moved, gun drawn.  Her movements were silent and stealthy as a lion on the prowl.

"I appreciate the warning, however this is a matter that we have to resolve.  Mister Rabb's life may be at risk, and we must be sure he is safe."

The voice rang out again, sounding slightly distant now.

"He is safe and that is all you need to know.  You and Special Agent David will leave now, Special Agent Gibbs.  There will be no more warnings and no more communications.  If you stay your lives will be at risk."

Gibbs continued to work his way through the gallery, he noticed two things, no sign of a body, and no further gun shots.  He was beginning to wonder if this has been a means to divert him and Ziva from something else.

"Ziva, stand down.  Anything in your area?"

Ziva David walked back to where Gibbs was standing, her expression was blank and her voice calm.

"No sign of anyone at all Gibbs.  It's as if this were set up to draw us into the gallery so..."

"So we would leave the information unguarded.  Damn it.  Let's head back to the car.  We will be lucky if the documents are still there."

As Gibbs and David left the gallery, there was a sigh, it went unnoticed as had the person who made it.  Silently he exited the room and vanished like the gun smoke that had filled the room moments before.

                                           *     *      *

Michael Knight awoke in a room that seemed as dark as night, there seemed to be no light at all in the room and he had no idea how large the room was.

He raised his wrist to speak into his watch communicator and found nothing there.  Whoever he was dealing with knew about his link with K.I.T.T.  He knew this limited the list of people, and the first name that came to mind was Garth Knight, except as far as Michael knew, Garth was dead... Then again he had supposedly died before.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out of the nothingness that surrounded Michael.

"Welcome to the lair.  Sorry you can't see anything, but the room you are in was designed just for you Michael.  To see how well you function without any of your toys."

Michael was still hurting from being hit, and he was having difficulty speaking, but he forced the words out.

"Garth, so you... you survived.  What are you a cat, with nine lives?"

There was a pause then the voice that sounded identical except it seemed hollow in tone, responded.

"Always trying to be sarcastic  to show you are superior as a fake to the real thing.  Well you can wonder how I survived.  Right now, I have a meeting to attend.  I will be back later.  Have a nice day, or is it night.  Be back later Michael."

There wasn't silence, instead Michael heard the heavy foot steps of Garth Knight and the slamming of a heavy metal door, then there was silence.  He had to wonder why Garth had left the mike open, or had he.  Could he have made a mistake?

"Wish I had a way to reach K.I.T.T.  Better still, wish I could contact Devon.  Of course what what I tell him, I have no idea where I am currently."

Michael began to feel the floor, it was gravel and rock, not concrete.  He felt the walls, they were smooth, metal.  Slowly he rose to his feet, and as quickly fell back to the floor.  He was still hurting, and badly from the hit and run.  It felt like his ribs were hurt and the pain was sharp enough that he could not rise.  

"Great, possible broken ribs, no medical treatment.  That means that Garth is not planning on keeping me around very long.  Damn! I can do nothing.  Unless."

Michel felt that he was still dressed in his leather jacket and light weight shirt.

He removed the jacket and shirt.  

"Hate ruining a perfectly good shirt like this, but I have to do something."

He ripped the shirt as best he could.  He tied it tight around his ribs where they were hurting.

"Hopefully that will help.  Let's see."

He slowly rose to his feet, his ribs still hurt, but not as bad as they had.  He could stand and walk.  Which meant he could test to see how large this room was, and try and find the door.

Slowly he felt his way along the cold metal of the wall.

"Right now I wish I could talk with K.I.T.T., he would be able to tell me how close I am to a door or if there are traps in the floor.  This is frustrating.  At least my eyes are adjusting, I can see a little.  Garth would have this room completely painted black, fits his soul."

His left hand felt something, it felt like a break in the wall, or was it where a door was.  Just then there was a sound suddenly and he froze.

Just inches from where his left hand was a hidden door opened and light entered the room, before he could react a shadowy figure entered the room and grabbed him.

Michael struggled, but he was overpowered because of the injuries. A hood was over his face and he was dragged from the room.




TO BE CONTINUED.