But Karr cut that thought off before it had even fully formed in his logic matrix. The option of failure was no option at all. Nick had requested Tanner's assistance because the ex-spy knew that only one trained as he could hope to infiltrate the General's headquarters. The Hunter, skilled tracker and expert sniper, was one of only a few people on earth capable of accomplishing that task -- and the only one the secretive freelance operative now dared trust with his life.

Karr had no choice but to put his faith in the ATF agent's hands, but even after several encounters in which Tanner's unique skills had been vital to the success of a mission, Karr didn't really trust him. It had taken years before Karr had even trusted his driver enough to work with him, let alone gotten to the point they were at now.

Trust did not come easily to a sentient artificial intelligence that had been created to serve, only to be betrayed by his creators and dismantled to suffer an interminable punishment in darkness. Karr had never forgiven Wilton Knight for the order to shut him down; for the order that relegated him to a hellish existence within his own tiny CPU without so much as a single outside stimulus. They'd created the KARR, the Knight Automated Roving Robot, programmed him for self-preservation, then repeatedly attacked him. Was it any wonder he'd rebelled and fought back? But the Foundation hadn't seen it that way, all they'd seen was their precious machine becoming a danger to them -- and they'd shut him down without hesitation. They hadn't cared that he was sentient, that he could feel when they hurt him with their tests. They hadn't cared when they deactivated him.

But they'd learned from their mistakes, or so everyone thought. The Knight Industries Two Thousand had been created, programmed to protect human life above all, and they'd treated him like a child. KITT had been nurtured as he grew into his sentiency, allowed to grow as a person with his human driver from the very beginning. He'd been given every opportunity Karr had been denied. Cherished, even as the failed KARR prototype was forgotten.

It had made him furious, when events had conspired to free him and he'd learned what had happened during the years he'd spent stewing in that silent lonely darkness, dreading each nanosecond that passed. Betrayed, rejected and finally replaced, KARR had reacted in the only way he'd known -- he'd tried to destroy that which threatened his existence. In the end, he'd failed at that as well. Once more, he was deactivated with no concern for his welfare.

Nick had saved him then. Rebuilt him in a new body, given him access to the world once more. And KARR, unwilling to trust a human ever again, had scorned and attacked him at every turn. But they'd prevailed, and he'd evolved past that vicious machine to become the Karr he wished to be. It had only taken the realization that his continued survival was tied through the neural implant to that of the human's to motivate the evolution. His primary programming expanded to include MacKenzie, and thus he began his new life. But he never forgot a single hellish moment from his previous life. And he never would; an AI could not forget.

It had been remembered pain and unexpected empathy that had driven him to begin opening himself up to his brother when Kitt had been tortured by Wilton's ruthless daughter, Jennifer Knight. The trauma of that betrayal had threatened to drown the naïve and innocent young AI in pain and horror, feelings Karr had sympathized with. All his self-defenses had crumbled under Kitt's need, his protective instincts extending from beyond himself and his driver to incorporate the wounded AI. For the first time since their creation, neither AI was unique anymore. They became true brothers, united in pain; and gradually, in love. It was only recently, in the last few months, that Karr had fully accepted Kitt's own driver and partner into the small collection of beings he felt safe putting his trust in.

Reflecting on that, Karr wondered if it wasn't perhaps time to exercise that trust. Glancing at the thick barrier blocking his link to his brother, Karr hesitated, then swiftly dropped the shield.

<_Karr! Kitt instantly squealed, his glowing white presence dashing through the open link to wrap tightly around his older brother in mingled relief and joy.

Karr smiled, just as pleased as the younger AI, if more restrained in his expression of it. <_Hello, Kitt.

Kitt pulled back, but kept a tendril twined about the older AI's cool darkness. He could feel his brother's turbulent emotions, muted as they were by Karr's self-control. <_Karr? he questioned gently, <_why did you cut me off?

Karr was silent for a moment, then Kitt heard him sigh. <_Nick was kidnapped.

<_What?! By who? Is he okay? Where are you? Michael and I will be there as quickly as we can, then we'll get him back. God, Karr, why didn't you tell us sooner…

<_Because there's nothing you or Knight can do! Karr interjected, snarling in frustration. <_There's not even anything I can do! Damnit, Kitt, you were the first ones we thought of when that bastard caught Nick. But you wouldn't be enough! Nash saw to that.

Kitt gasped. <_Nash? As in General Jackson Nash?

<_Who else? Karr snorted. <_You didn't honestly expect him to simply go away after his failed attempt to split up our drivers, did you? The General isn't the type. He thinks he owns Nick, just because he created him. Maybe we should have introduced him to Jennifer Knight -- the two had a lot in common!

Inside his own CPU, flying high above the country, Kitt shivered at his brother's bitter tone. Kitt had always known how the dark AI had felt toward the woman responsible for torturing him, but he hadn't quite realized just how unsatisfied Karr was by his lost opportunity to kill her. Jennifer Knight was beyond his reach now, dead after an explosion that brought a building crashing down on her. And Nash, who had survived decades as a hunted man, wasn't stupid enough to even give Karr an opportunity.

<_What can we do? Kitt finally asked.

<_Right before I lost contact with Nick, he ordered me to Denver. There's a man here Nick felt stood a chance of rescuing him. Dr. Christopher and I came immediately…

<_Alex! That's right, you were supposed to be meeting her. Is she okay?

<_She's safe, Kitt. Karr immediately assured, knowing his brother's primary programming heightened his concern for any human in danger. Besides, Kitt was rather fond of the intelligent woman who'd managed to somewhat tame Nicholas MacKenzie. For that matter, so was Karr. <_She's staying with Tanner's teammates while he goes after Nick.

Kitt frowned. <_Tanner?

<_Yes, Vin Tanner. He's an ATF agent based here in Denver. A sharpshooter. He's worked with Nick before.

Kitt nodded at that, knowing it meant Tanner was about as trustworthy as any of the freelance FLAG operative's allies. Nick may be ruthless in who he employed in his network of informants, including everything from professional hackers to professional criminals, but he put all potential allies through vigorous scrutiny before engaging in any activity with them. Still, unless it was Michael Knight himself, MacKenzie would never turn his back on them.

<_Okay, Michael is speaking with the pilot now. With the change in heading, it should be approximately 1.47 hours before we land at the Denver International Airport.

Karr nodded. <_Understood. Our temporary base of operations is a secluded ranch owned by one of Tanner's teammates, 43.19 miles from the city.

Karr transmitted the directions leading to Larabee's Ranch, then just sat there. It had only been a few days since Nick had been abducted, only a few days since Karr had shut himself off from his partner and brother, but feeling Kitt's bright presence next to his own touched him now deeper than he expected. After the last few years of enjoying a deep connection to his human driver and AI brother, it felt like he'd been isolated from them forever -- as alone as the long lonely years before he'd met them. He didn't want to feel that again, not so soon.

Karr was torn. He didn't like needing others. It was a weakness he was reluctant to allow himself, but no matter how hard he wanted to, he couldn't deny its existence. Unfortunately, Karr thought, grimacing, it didn't mean he had to give in and ask.

Kitt, still closely entwined, caught the tail edge of his brother's thoughts and understood. He gazed fondly upon the icy black presence. <_Karr, he called softly. <_It's okay…

Retreated back into his own CPU, he left Karr to his thoughts, the link open and thrumming between them.

"This sure sounded easier when JD was explainin' it," Vin complained to his horse.

Peso snorted.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Vin agreed, turning the black box around and around in his hands.

The little inlaid screen stayed blank, no arrow to be seen.

Vin puffed his own snort. "Well, I reckon we ain't gonna find nothing standin' around here. If'n I'm rememberin' right, the General's old base was southwest a here. Might as well head thataway -- it's as good a direction as any."

Not in the mood to argue, the black gelding just smacked his lips and heeded to the subtle pressure on the bit in his mouth and along his ribs. Vin quirked an eyebrow, surprised but pleased. At least one thing was cooperating on this hell-spawned mission.

Speaking of hell… "I really ain't looking forward to seeing the Devil again, Peso. I thought I'd dealt with him six years ago -- can't believe MacKenzie never told me the bastard was still alive. Ain't like he ain't had ample opportunity, you know?"

Peso was less than sympathetic.

Vin scowled. "Some friend you are," he muttered, and got an especially jerky trot-step in response.

Chuckling, Tanner surveyed his surroundings. Despite the seriousness of his purpose for being here, he felt himself relax ever so subtly as the unconscious tension he always carried in the city wore off. He never failed to feel more comfortable in the wild, no matter how many years he'd lived in urban jungles. These hills in particular, familiar as they were, comforted the tracker even under the worst conditions. He'd ridden them so many times, explored every nook and cranny. He could navigate them blindfolded and still get where he was going. He knew how they should be, when everything was as it ought to be, and could usually spot what didn't belong.

But that was no help to him now. There was no sign of either Nash or Nick anywhere nearby. He didn't really expect there to be. All he could do was pick a direction and hope he also picked up a signal from Nick's implant. That could take time, Vin knew. There were a lot of places to hide in the mountains, and this particular range was a big one.

Thankfully, it wasn't as big as it seemed. With the rise in the tourist industry, plenty of hard to reach spots had been converted into great get-away camping destinations. Protected areas hailed all over the vast forests. Rangers regularly patrolled much of the territory on the look out for dangerous predators both animal and human. A truly experienced predator, the General would be wise enough to avoid the populated areas -- and thus avoid accidental discovery.

No, Vin reasoned, Nash would set up his base in some completely isolated and highly defendable hollow. The location he'd used six years ago had been ideal. Nestled at the base of a ravine, treacherous rocky hills surrounded three sides of the hidden glen of dense woods. A small grassy clearing in the centre sheltered the pre-fab buildings that could be assembled and disassembled in minutes by trained personnel. Tall, leafy deciduous trees circled the modest clearing, large enough to land a pair of helicopters side by side if their pilots were careful. Throw a couple of camouflage nets over the treetops and the base would be all but invisible from above.

"Hell," Vin mused, "maybe I'll get lucky and the bastard will use the same damn spot."

In a small hole of a room, barely the size a closet, huddled a broken figure. It was pitch black, no light even managing to sneak in from below the door, and it was cold. So very, very cold.

To the huddled figure, it was freezing. With no clothes to provide the barest hint of protection, all the man could do was curl up on himself to conserve body heat. This wasn't as easy as it sounded. Bruises, cuts, blisters and burn marks covered his skin. His muscles screamed in pain at the slightest movement, pounded into brittle tenderness by hours of relentless beatings. His wrists and ankles were encrusted with drying blood, hands and feet all but numb from lack of circulation as the hard plastic cuffs constricted with any shift in position.

Thirst clawed at his throat and hunger cramped painfully at his abdominal muscles, sparking a new wave of agony along his abused nervous system. The man groaned, too weary to even cry out. He worked his tongue in his mouth, trying to build up enough saliva to soothe the ache in his throat, since there sure as hell wasn't a lot else he could do.

Eyes closed to shut out the oppressive darkness, Nick MacKenzie retreated deep into his own mind. It would be a few more hours before his tormentor would deign to remove him from his little prison for the next session of 're-education'. He would be left alone until then. He was grateful for the reprieve, even as all his instincts told him it was the calm before the storm. He didn't care. He'd already survived a million storms, he knew that if he just held on he would survive this one as well.

All storms, no matter how fierce or destructive, eventually died out. It was the nature of things, inevitable as the sun rising in the morning. All that varied was the length of time and the intensity of the storm as it played out.

MacKenzie had weathered worse storms than this -- and for longer, too.

Heedless of the fresh blood dribbling from the split in his lip, the man smiled as he remembered one such storm.

It had happened over eleven years ago; a lifetime ago. Always subconsciously aware of the little silicon microchip implanted at the base of his brainstem, but rarely giving it a thought as it had lay quiescent since its placement, the self-employed special operative had been shocked when it suddenly pulsed. Strange signals, foreign to his brain's way of thinking, had flashed intermittently into his mind before the implant again fell silent. It had taken him a long moment to figure out those signals had not originated from him, and even longer to accept that there was only one possible source.

KARR -- the Knight Automated Roving Robot. FLAG's prototype crime-fighting car of the future that he never even got to meet before they shut down the project and dismantled the vehicle. What had become of the advanced AI that had been the heart of the vehicle, he hadn't known or cared.

Until the neural chip that linked him to it pulsed.

Curiosity aroused, he'd gone in search of the AI he'd been meant to act as driver for. It had been child's play to hack into FLAGNet, the Foundation's supposedly secure intranet mainframe. From there, it had taken only a little effort to track down the data he'd sought. The KARR had been replaced with a newer, better model -- the KITT, Knight Industries Two Thousand. And the new car had a new driver as well.

Interesting, but irrelevant for the moment.

Further searching revealed the KARR AI had not been destroyed, and had in fact returned twice to wreak havoc on his creators before being defeated again. The last attack and subsequent defeat had come only that day -- the KARR's parts had been left strewn over a desert plain and awaited pick-up by a Foundation Recovery Team.

Checking the location of the crash site, Nick determined that he could probably beat FLAG there if he hurried. Remembering the implant's strange signals, he decided to go for it.

He arrived almost 15 minutes before the Recovery Team was due, and used the time wisely. Ignoring the twisted broken car and weapon parts strewn about the dusty road, he searched through the rubble for the source of the implant's pulses -- the AI's CPU. He found it, only slightly charred, buried in the tangled mess of the destroyed supercar's engine. Grabbing the small black case, he took one last glance about him, then ghosted away as silently as he'd come.

When the Recovery Team arrived three minutes later, there was no trace left of the visitor's presence.

Nick had brought his prize home with him and immediately set to work. Less than a month later, a new supercar had been built to house the sentient computer. The car, one of his own design, had been based not on the Trans Am the Knight Foundation favored, but on the sleek lines of a Stealth. He'd even gone so far as to make up his own batch of the indestructible coating that, once applied, would make the car virtually invulnerable. The recipe for the coating, called a Molecular Bonded Shell (MBS), was a tightly kept secret even to FLAG employee's -- but not to one who could read the personal records of the Board of Directors with just the tap of a key. Computers could be such wonderful things, for one who knew how to use them.

And he hoped to do the same with the AI once it was installed in its new home. The CPU, cleaned and repaired, was hooked up to only the bare minimum of feedlines as work was completed on the car. There had been no response from the AI to its change in situations, but the barely detectable pulses of the implant had continued at random intervals, assuring Nick of the AI's continued survival.

Before long, the big day arrived. The car was complete and ready to accept its new host. The installation occurred quickly, and Nick stepped back to observe the results.

For an interminable moment, nothing happened. Then, one by one, the car's systems flickered and flared to life.

Nick smiled.

A second later, the expression was replaced by a tortured grimace as a loud hissing grew in the back of his mind. The pressure continued to build, magnifying in intensity until the pain in his head blinded him to all outside stimulus. His brain, unable to handle the powerful influx of fried nerves, responded the only way it could. With a hoarse scream, Nicholas MacKenzie dropped into a deep restorative unconsciousness.

That had been the first storm he would experience with this particular source. Many more, each greater and more unpleasant than the next, would follow. Nick had eventually learned how to shield his mind, even how to fight back against the vicious mental attacks of the AI. He could have ended it all by simply destroying the AI, MBS-shielded Stealth or not, but he chose not to. Beneath each agonizing incident, Nick sensed the fear that drove the AI to fight, to kill.

It was a fear, a weakness, he shared. And it would serve as the focal point for them to build a mutual relationship off of once they acknowledged it. Both were driven by an overwhelming need to survive, but with their minds linked through the newly activated neural implant, survival for one could only come as long as the other survived as well.

Discovering that had been the turning point, and they'd begun to work with each other instead of against each other. They'd soon had to learn all new skills to survive, as dealing with the influence of the neural link had been hard on both man and machine. A computer's thought patterns, no matter how advanced the program, were completely alien to the human mind -- and vice-versa. Only perseverance, stubborn determination, and an incredible amount of trial and error had led to a working solution. It would be years later, when they combined forces with FLAG's other human-AI team, before they would learn just how inadequate a 'working solution' had been.

The point was though, Nick now thought as his body's aching torment settled into a steady throbbing undercurrent, that he'd survived. Karr's attacks on his mind had been by far the most horrendous torture he'd ever faced -- no attack on his body could ever compare. Nash could do what he liked… it would never be enough to break him.

“Dr. Christopher,” Karr suddenly called, spooking the agents sitting with the woman on the ranch home’s front porch. “Knight is here.”

“Who?” Buck asked, as Alex smiled and visibly relaxed. He’d been trying to encourage her to do that for hours and was a bit disgruntled that this ‘Knight’ character had done it without even being present.

“Michael Knight,” she elaborated. “A close friend of Nick’s. He’s also the driver of Karr’s brother, a fellow AI.”

“You mean there are two of those infernal contraptions in existence?”

Alex chuckled. Mr. Standish had still not recovered from his affront with his earlier meeting with Karr. He kept giving the Stealth dirty looks, much to her -- and she suspected, Karr’s -- amusement.

“Yes and no,” she answered vaguely, busy watching the road for the black Trans Am. “Kitt is a sentient AI, as is Karr, and they are both housed in black vehicles with human drivers. But that’s pretty much where the similarities end.” She smiled, seeing the sleek car turn up the driveway. “You’ll see when you meet them.”

They all watched as a stylish black Trans Am, a red light panning excitedly back and forth across its prow, slid up to park so close to the dark Stealth their side mirrors were practically touching. The driver’s door popped open and a tall man with full dark hair climbed out just as Alex struggled to her feet.

“Michael,” she breathed, relieved beyond words to see him.

He was already moving quickly towards her. “Alex!” He looked her over carefully. “You okay?”

“I’ve been better. I’m sorry you had to skip out on your Conference, Michael, but I’m glad you’ve come.”

“Yeah, well… it wasn’t like we were having all that much fun in London, anyway. Just a bunch of stuffy rich people throwing their money around to look philanthropic for a good cause. Boring conversation, uncomfortable clothes, bad food, lots of free drinks… you know, the usual.” He glanced over her shoulder at the waiting ATF agents. “You’re sure you’re okay? They been treating you all right?”

“Hey now!” Buck protested, annoyed.

“They’ve been perfect gentleman, Michael. They’ve taken care of me just fine. Don’t worry, I’m all right.” Then she shrugged, her smile dipping. “Or as all right as I will be until Nick gets back.”

Michael nodded, understanding. Wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulders to guide her back to her seat, he tossed an apologetic look to the agents with his eyes. He liked cops, even feds, and didn’t really doubt they’d do their best for Alex in this situation. But he was protective of Alex, even more so now that she was injured and Nick wasn’t around to protect her himself.

Not that he’d tell her that to her face, of course. She’d probably punch his teeth in, then call Bonnie so his own ladylove could do the same.

“Have you heard any word about Nick?” he asked, sitting himself beside her.

She shook her head. “No. Vin is supposed to contact Karr when he finds Nick, then again when they’re ready for pick up. Until then, nothing. Karr says it’s too risky to communicate any more than necessary.”

“Yeah, Nash is a bastard, but he’s a smart bastard.” Michael agreed. “He’ll probably be monitoring all communications.”

He looked thoughtfully at the remaining members of Team Seven. “So, tell me about this Vin guy. What’s he like?”

The boys glanced uncertainly at each other, then looked to their leader. Chris was glaring. He’d heard the hint of distrust beneath the unsubtle fishing expedition. While he appreciated the sense of caution the other man was showing, he didn’t take kindly to anyone doubting a member of his team.

“He’s the best.” Larabee said flatly.

Michael said nothing. When Kitt had filled him in on what Karr had told him, he’d immediately requested to see the ATF agent’s records. What he’d seen had both impressed and worried him. While Tanner’s record since joining up with Larabee’s elite hand-picked ATF team had been exemplary, as had the unclassified sections of his military career, there had been a lot of grey areas in the years before and since his stint in the Army. The bounty hunting Tanner had done didn’t really bother Michael. It was almost the same type of work he did as a FLAG operative, and he’d met others of Tanner’s ilk during his previous life as a Las Vegas cop. But a lot of time from Tanner’s childhood on was murky and vague and that concerned him. He’d never liked the unknown.

“Michael,” Alex interjected, laying her hand on his arm. “I met Vin a few years ago, when Nick asked for his help to find a missing child. He’s a good guy -- kind of shy, quiet, but with a wicked sense of humor once he relaxes. He’s good at what he does, and Nick seemed to trust him. Besides,” she grinned, “he’s great with kids. Little Monica just latched on to him when he found her, and she wouldn’t let go the whole way back. She wouldn’t even let me check her over unless she was sitting on his lap the whole time.”

“Ha! That’s Junior all right! Girls of all ages fawnin’ all over him. Huh… wonder if it's the accent?” Buck mused, consideringly.

JD laughed. “What’s the matter, Buck? Worried your animal maggotism is gonna wear off?”

“That’s ‘magnetism’, boy, not ‘maggotism’!” Buck scowled. “And no! I don’t got nothin’ to worry about. Women love me. Soon as they get a touch of the ol’ Wilmington charm, they fall all over themselves to drop that skinny Texan on his skinny ass.”

Michael watched as the others met that boast with various friendly responses ranging from snorts and smiles of amusement, to heads shaking in embarrassment. The banter confirmed his assessment that the Team were close friends as well as coworkers, which was reassuring. It would be hard to deceive such highly trained observers on a daily basis as it was; without the distraction of the job it would be even harder.

Harder, but not impossible. Michael just wasn’t sure he could take the chance when it was Nick’s life on the line.

He smiled as he stood up. “Well, it’s nice to have met you and I’m sure you’re doing a great job taking care of Alex.” He looked out at the matching black sports cars. “We all appreciate it. Don’t we guys?”

“Of course, Michael.” Kitt agreed immediately, the smile audible in his voice. “We’ve been very concerned. It’s so nice of you to look after her. We’re very grateful. Aren’t we, Karr?” he prompted.

“Ecstatic.”

Kitt sighed as Michael and Alex chuckled. “Don’t mind him,” he told the ATF agents, “he’s just got a very twisted sense of humor.”

They were frankly surprised the dark AI had any sense of humor. He’d been nothing but silently menacing or viciously caustic since they’d met him.

Still chuckling, as much at the agents’ faces as at Karr’s perfect deadpan, Michael reached for the door of the Trans Am.

“Michael?” Alex suddenly asked, noticing his motion.

“Don’t worry, Alex. I’m just going to take a drive out to the pick-up site. Check things out a little,” he assured her. “Maybe see if I can pick up Tanner’s trail.”

His intention was obvious, even to those who didn’t know him well. Alex didn’t think it would be a good idea if Michael went off after Nick and was about to say so when someone else beat her to it.

"That will not be necessary." Karr declared, an unconscious threat underlying his tone.

Michael stopped, turning to stare at the Stealth incredulously. Of all those he’d expected to object to his plans, the distrustful AI hadn’t even been on the list. Michael knew he was one of the few humans Karr trusted at all. That he’d rather put his driver’s life in some stranger’s hands was inconceivable.

"Mr. Tanner is perfectly capable of recovering Nick. You are not." Karr decreed neutrally, aware of Knight’s reaction.

//Easy, Michael. I'm sure he didn't mean it the way it sounds.// Kitt instantly jumped in to sooth, sensing his partner's growing anger at the unintentional insult.

Michael growled. //Could have fooled me, Kitt. How the hell else do you think he meant it?! Shit, you'd think by now they'd realize we're not incompetent. But oh no! He’d rather trust some Fed than us to rescue Nick!//

Kitt frowned. Yes, well, there was that. He and Michael weren't incompetent, but surely Nick and Karr knew that. The guarded pair had gradually opened up over the last few years, while helping Michael and Kitt learn to adapt to the alien signals of the neural implants linking their minds. Nick and Karr had become good friends to them. They had even invited Michael and Kitt to live with them at Nick's warehouse when the Foundation no longer represented safety. And in the last few years, they had let the other pair see more of themselves than most ever did. Surely they knew Michael and Kitt were worthy of that trust. So why not let them prove it?

<_Karr? he queried.

<_ I meant no disrespect to either yours or Knight's abilities, Kitt, he explained softly. <_But the odds of your driver surviving against Nash's forces are minimal. Tanner, however, has skills that will permit him to infiltrate the General's headquarters and extract Nick without detection.

Kitt frowned. <_What skills?

As Michael was also awaiting the answer to that question, Karr chose to answer aloud. But he would have to answer carefully, as Tanner's co-workers were also listening.

"Vincent Tanner and Nicholas MacKenzie share a common past," he said obliquely. "As Nick's early training made him an effective CIA agent, Tanner's led to his career as a sharpshooter in the ATF."

On To Part 6