She noticed his mounting anxiety and slid her arms around his waist, giving him an encouraging hug. His arm encircled her shoulders in response, drawing strength from her presence as she did from his.
'What will we do once we reach Hong Kong?' she asked.
He shrugged. 'Ask Raymond for help, I guess. I don't really know; this is all very overwhelming. If we're lucky, we'll catch up to Waller and my father and work with them. If not...'
'We'll manage,' she smiled. 'Someone's bound to find her; Searchers, Inc., Waller, or us. With so many people looking, she can't go missing much longer.'
'If she's still alive,' he added grimly.
'She's alive,' she replied firmly. 'They killed four people at Kane Manor, just to get information. They almost killed Waller. If they wanted her dead, they wouldn't have bothered to kidnap her first. So you should assume she's alive until and unless we find out otherwise.'
He smiled at her. 'And you said you'd lost your optimism.'
She kissed her fingertips and touched them to his lips. 'I found it again when I met you.'
Ignoring Hank's presence, he pulled her closer and kissed her. She hesitated for a fleeting moment before responding with more enthusiasm than was proper. Some things in life were too good for restraint.
Hank dropped them off at the same terminal where he'd picked them up, and they scanned the airline schedules, trying to find one with a nonstop flight from Germany to Hong Kong. Most flights made a refueling stop, either in Israel or in India, which added an hour or two to the flight time, but at least they wouldn't have to switch planes. All that was left was to find out which flights had available seating at such short notice.
A hand grabbed his shoulder in a vise-like grip, whirling him around and pinning him against the wall. The man who glared down at him was wearing a conservative business suit that concealed most of his very powerful frame, though his neck muscles bulged above his open collar. His other hand was held down at his side, but clenched in a fist that was clearly ready for instant action should the need arise.
They had never met, but the face was familiar from the Titans' files. 'Red Star?'
"Why have you returned?" the Russian snarled in English. "Are you planning to endanger civilians this time? Where are your horned henchmen, Azarath?"
Jessica intervened, squeezing herself between the two men. "You are mistaken," she explained. "You refer to incidents in which Joseph had no role. If he seems familiar, it is because another wore his face. Your anger is not with him."
Why he should believe her was uncertain, but he did, releasing Joseph and stepping back. "Is this true?" he asked the former Titan.
Joseph nodded. 'We were captured by the Wildebeests six months ago. We've only been free these past few days.' Seeing the lack of comprehension on the other man's face, Jessica quickly translated for him. Evidently he needed no further explanation; he seemed satisfied with what he'd been told.
Realizing that she was still standing defensively between them, he smiled down at her and said, "I am Leonid Kovar. For a brief while, I worked alongside the Titans." He turned back to Joseph. "I apologize for my behavior; certainly, I have no wish to assault a friend. Especially as the Titans were short on friends when last I saw them."
'You were with the team recently?' Joseph asked. 'How are they?'
"This is not one of their better times," Leonid replied, succinctly relating how he had quit the team when it had come under the control of the U.S. government. "I returned to Russia and to my training as a scientist. In fact, I am here in Germany for a conference on shared space technology; I was awaiting my return flight when I spotted you. If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you here?"
Joseph described their situation, and Leonid listened intently. "These attacks are undoubtedly the actions of a well-armed group," he observed. "They strike with speed and strength, and are willing to kill. You will require more power than you currently have in order to win a battle against them; I offer my assistance."
Against Jessica's better judgment, the offer was accepted, and the three of them booked a flight to Hong Kong. Considering first class to be a shameful waste of money, Leonid flew coach, and Jessica was not at all displeased by the physical distance between them. Perhaps it was an overgeneralization on her part, but Russians were notorious anti-Semites, and she wasn't prone to trusting them on a whim. Despite the fact that Leonid was apparently a former teammate of Joseph's, he still made her apprehensive, particularly after the way he'd confronted Joseph, and the less she had to deal with him, the better.
Neither one of them made any attempt to stay awake, especially since this flight was even longer than their last one. This time, though, it was Joseph who awoke with a start, his heart pounding in fear. A glance in Jessica's direction confirmed that she was still asleep, and for that, at least, he was thankful. She already blamed herself for what the Wildebeests had forced her to do to him; it wouldn't do to let her see just how traumatized he'd really been by it all.
He tried to pass it off as just another hazard of being a Titan, but for once, he wasn't buying it. True or not, it was all too much � the battles, the injuries, the deaths of close friends, the neverending stress. He was an artist, a musician, a poet; why had he allowed his life to take such a violent path? He didn't enjoy it, as Kory did; he didn't need it, as Donna did; he wasn't too obsessed to quit, as Dick was. He had to refocus on what was truly important to him, and once he'd found his mother, he was determined to do just that.
It was time for a new chapter in his life. He had made wonderful friends in the Titans, but his future was not with them. What he needed now was peace. What he needed now was someone who understood him, who could give his life the stability he craved. What he needed now was... Jessica.
He studied her as she slept. They'd been through hell together and escaped alive, if not whole. She had chosen to accompany him when she had no reason to do so, save for their mutual attraction. Her goals for the future were the same as his. Perhaps she was right when she said that God had put them together for a reason.
He almost woke her, then thought the better of it. What he had wanted to ask her could wait; even if she agreed, nothing would be done immediately, so there was no point in interrupting her much-needed rest.
No longer in the mood to sleep, he turned in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of Leonid. The Russian was talking quietly on a cell phone, and Joseph didn't want to disturb him simply because he was bored. Instead, he took some of the stationary the airline provided to first class passengers and began writing letters to friends he hadn't seen in months and who were probably as convinced of his death as everyone else had been.
A dozen letters later, the plane began its approach to the airport. He nudged Jessica awake and placed the letters in his bag in preparation for landing. Since none of them had checked-in luggage, they quickly made it out of the airport and into the heart of Hong Kong's capital city, Victoria.
Finding Raymond Kane's house was hardly difficult; the sprawling mansion dominated the cliff overlooking the city's main harbor in a very ostentatiously Western display of wealth. It took them five minutes just to climb all the stairs to the front door.
Chinese society did not hold women in high regard. That meant Jessica was not the best choice to do the talking, but Joseph couldn't and Leonid didn't know enough of the situation to persuade the help to let them speak with Raymond, so she was chosen by default. Trying to mask her apprehension, she took a deep breath and knocked on the ornate, gilded door.
"Hello," she said when an old woman answered. "Is Mr. Raymond Kane at home? We would like to speak with him."
The woman gave her the blank look of someone who does not understand the language being spoken. She turned away and barked an order in Chinese to a younger woman who happened to walk by; the young woman took off at a run.
"No Kane," the woman told Jessica, waving her hand dismissively.
"His daughter, then," she persisted. "Mayflower Kane. May we see her?"
Now the woman looked uneasy. If she understood nothing else, she recognized the names, though that didn't seem to sway her any.
At length, an equally old man came to the door. He exchanged rapid-fire Chinese with the woman, who abruptly turned and left. The man looked past Jessica to Joseph and Leonid. "Much apologies, bad tragedy at Kane house. Mr. Kane and daughter not here anymore."
"Not here?" she asked. "They've gone?"
The man nodded, but kept his eyes on Joseph and Leonid. "Forever gone to ancestors."
She gasped, one hand pressed to her mouth. "They're dead?" She turned to Joseph, her eyes wide. 'What do we do now?' Behind her, the man smiled, bowed, and closed the door.
For a moment Joseph looked utterly lost. 'Soh-leng Cui,' he signed slowly. 'She lives here. We need to find her.'
"Soh-leng Cui," she said aloud for Leonid's benefit. "Is she a Searchers, Inc. employee?"
He nodded. 'But I don't know where she lives.'
Wandering back down to the docks, they came across a small phone booth, but there was no directory. "If I spoke Chinese, I would call the operator for her number; she could give us directions to her place," she said. "Unfortunately, I don't speak Chinese."
Leonid stepped forward and lifted the phone receiver. He punched several buttons and rattled off an impressively long sentence in Mandarin. He waited, then asked, "Cui Soh-leng?" He must have reached her, because he nodded at Joseph and continued his conversation. After several minutes he hung up.
"She will send a car for us," he told them.
'I didn't realize you spoke Chinese,' Joseph said, impressed.
Leonid shrugged. "The topic never arose with the Titans, and there was little need to mention it, lest it appear boastful. It seems that I have a talent for languages; with varying fluency, I speak Russian, English, German, Mandarin Chinese, and Polish."
The car that pulled up in front of them ten minutes later was neither new nor spacious, but they managed to fit. Soh-leng grinned at them as they squeezed into the back seat. "Joseph, you naughty boy, giving us all a fright like that! Don't you even think of dying on us!"
He smiled. 'It won't cross my mind, I promise.'
"It's good to see you again, little one," she told him, laughter dancing in her eyes. Jessica guessed the nickname was an in-joke; at six feet in height, Joseph towered over the petite Asian woman even when they were both seated. She wasn't certain if Soh-leng reached the five-foot mark; Jessica, too, seemed much taller than her hostess.
Soh-leng gestured to her driver and they were off, flying haphazardly down the streets of Hong Kong, missing pedestrians and other drivers by the smallest of margins. "So," she said casually, "you tried to contact Raymond Kane. What did you discover?"
"That he and his daughter are dead," Jessica said. "No one would tell us more than that."
Soh-leng nodded. "Of course not. Rumor has it that Kane was mixed up with Triad � that's the Chinese mafia � and that they killed him for double-crossing them. If that's true, no one wants to talk about it for fear of their own life."
'Rumor?' Joseph asked. 'Then you believe otherwise?'
Soh-leng waved one hand in the air absently. "Triad could easily have killed him. But your father was here when Raymond and Mayflower died, so their deaths could also be related to whatever situation your mother is embroiled in. We really don't have much information available to us; it is as difficult as it is dangerous to try to infiltrate Triad."
"The people at Kane's house mentioned Triad," Leonid confirmed. "You are correct, they appeared frightened, so perhaps it is more than mere rumor. But they also spoke of a 'Morel', and that is not a Chinese name."
The car swerved around a farmer's goat-drawn cart and pulled into the driveway of Soh-leng's house. "Kane was a gun-runner, among other things," she clarified. "Maybe Morel was his contact, or a buyer. Let's ask Searchers, Inc. about it."
Within minutes, Soh-leng had set up a teleconference with Amber in the U.S. and Phillip at Kane Manor in England. According to information from Waller, Morel was indeed behind the kidnapping of Adeline; he was also heading a well-armed group of young mercenaries. Soh-leng glanced at Joseph; the Raymond Kane puzzle piece just fell into place.
"Raymond had a piece of the armor, too," Phillip reported. "Have you recovered it, Soh-leng?"
She shook her head. "It was on his yacht, which was blown up right after he died. I suspect Morel's mercs got it."
"What is the importance of this armor?" Leonid asked.
Amber laughed. "Good question, hon � we've been askin' ourselves that for weeks. Kane family legend states there's some significance to the little holes that pit each piece, but so far, no one's been able to tell what that significance might be." She reached for something out of video range. "Lemme fax you some drawings of the armor; maybe you can make somethin' of it."
Soh-leng handed the faxes to Joseph, who glanced over them quickly and gave them to Leonid. No one really expected the mystery to be solved by a few faxes, which made it all the more stunning when Leonid announced, "This is a star map."
"How do you know?" Phillip asked, sounding more than a little miffed.
Leonid smiled. "Astronomy is a useful hobby for someone who works in the field of space technology. These maps are crude, and the stars have shifted somewhat since they were made, but they remain recognizable. The helmet points directly above, the gauntlets to the north and south, the breastplate to the east and on the back, the west. But I still do not understand why anyone would chisel a star map on a suit of armor."
"It's believed that the map leads to the location of buried treasure," Phillip explained. "At least, that's what Josiah Kane thought. Apparently Morel agrees, or he wouldn't have been so intent on gathering all the pieces. Now all we have to do is determine where on earth the map is supposed to indicate; it's owner was believed to have been an Egyptian, but that doesn't mean he stayed in Egypt."
"I'm feedin' the information into the computer right now," Amber said. "It'll calculate where the person would have to have been standin' to see the helmet's constellation directly overhead."
"How old are these markings?" Leonid wondered.
"Relatively young, compared to the age of the armor," Phillip informed him. "They are thought to be about two thousand years old."
"Take that into account in your calculations," he warned Amber. "The stars have shifted enough in that time to throw off your position by nearly a kilometer."
"It's done, honey," she replied, "an' it looks like the apple didn't fall far from the tree after all � Egypt it is. The Arabian Desert, southeast of Cairo." She caught Joseph's eye through the video link. "Sit tight, Joey, an' I'll set up the travel arrangements for you. After this is all done, you'll have enough frequent-flyer miles to go anywhere in the world!"
Their flight left in less than two hours, so they had to make haste back to the airport. Leonid had declined Amber's attempt to book him a first class reservation, and again sat back in the coach section, apart from Joseph and Jessica.
By now Joseph was so restless that he could barely sit still. They had spent days hopping from country to country in search of his mother, and at last they were catching up to her � but first, he would have to sit through nearly an entire day of air travel.
Again.
At least being held prisoner in a tiny concrete room for months on end had gotten him accustomed to sitting for extended periods of time. He had long ago passed the point where his muscles would spasm with painful cramps from the prolonged inactivity. But the monotony of captivity had done nothing to help him deal with the anxiety of not being able to help where he was needed.
Jessica ordered a glass of wine for him, which he hesitated to drink. 'It will calm your nerves, and it isn't enough to incapacitate you. With any luck it will help you get some sleep so you can function at peak efficiency once we arrive. Drink it,' she ordered.
He acquiesced, the shadow of a smile crossing his lips. For someone who stressed being modest and discreet, she was unusually effective at getting her own way � all without pulling medical rank. Heaven help the person unwise enough to ignore her professional advice.
Even so, the flight was rough for all of them, and he knew that after he got home to New York, it would be a long time before he chose to set foot on an airplane again. He had already completely lost track of both the day of the week and the time of day; any more air travel, and he would forget what year it was.
Two burly men met them as they cleared customs, both wearing dark glasses and baseball caps. Nothing about their appearance screamed "secret agent"; they may as well have been tourists waiting for friends to arrive. Jessica pressed closer to Joseph; public impropriety was better than being dragged off to God-knows-where by strange men.
She'd done that before, and was in no hurry to ever do it again.
When the men spoke, it was in Russian, though that seemed to be no surprise to Leonid. His response was respectful, but wary; he'd been the victim of too many government schemes to maintain the blind allegiance he'd previously possessed. After a brief exchange, he turned to Joseph and Jessica. "We are to accompany them," he said simply, indicating the Russian agents with a wave of his hand. "They will take us where we need to go."
They were herded into a battered old van parked just outside the doors of the main terminal. Now keenly alert to such details, Jessica noticed that their door had no window or inside handle. Like it or not, they were prisoners � again. She closed her eyes and prayed that Leonid was correct in trusting the men with their welfare.
Two hours later, the van came to a halt in the middle of a barren patch of dirt at the base of a small rocky outcropping. Stepping out of the van, they were struck by the sudden chill in the air; night had already fallen, and taken most of the day's heat with it. The Russian agents switched on the flashlights they had stored in the van and began walking to the far end of the outcropping, beckoning for the others to follow. They did so, hesitantly at first, until they saw their destination.
Hidden under a camouflage tarp was a spy helicopter: streamlined, armed, and painted black. Doubtless it was capable of impressive speed and distance in the air, despite being able to hold half a dozen people. With practiced ease, the agents uncovered the helicopter and folded the tarp, storing it in a small compartment that appeared to have been designed solely for that purpose. Leonid, Joseph, and Jessica were ushered into the back of the helicopter while the agents took the front piloting seats. In less than a minute they were airborne, veering away from the outcropping and toward the vast expanse of desert southwest of the city.
They used no visible light to illuminate their flight path. Instead, the helicopter was equipped with sonar, infrared scanners, and a global positioning unit to determine their present location. Even the blades seemed to make less noise than a regular helicopter. Their progress was excellent, though toward what, the passengers couldn't say.
Finally, one of the agents turned in his seat to address them. "We, too, have been following Deathstroke, for like us, he tracks Jacques Morel," he explained in English. "You know about Morel, yes?"
It was too dark in the helicopter for sign language, and the agents were probably unfamiliar with ASL, anyway. When it became clear that Jessica would not be the one to speak to them, Leonid replied, "We know that he is responsible for the kidnapping of Deathstroke's ex-wife, Adeline. We know that he seeks a fabled treasure linked to a suit of armor in the possession of Adeline's family. Is there something else of which we should be aware?"
The agent nodded sagely. "Much more. Morel is an international smuggler and drug-runner, but that need not concern you. What may well concern you is that he is also Adeline Wilson's first husband."
Jessica and Leonid both turned to look at Joseph, who was staring at the Russian agent in stunned disbelief. 'That's not true,' he signed, a hint of anger in the forcefulness of his motions. 'It can't be true.'
The Russian lit a cigarette and gave Joseph a sympathetic smile. "My apologies, but the information is accurate. What can I tell you? She was younger than you are now when she married him. Young girls are stupid when they are in love." He exhaled a stream of smoke and shrugged with one shoulder. "At least she wised up enough to divorce him � not that she chose much better the second time around, eh?"
When Joseph made no response, the agent shrugged again and turned back to the controls. Jessica slid her hand over his with unspoken sympathy. "Your mother has a right to her privacy," she whispered in his ear. "Don't think less of her just because she made some mistakes in her youth; she's still a good mother, and she still loves you."
For a moment it looked as though he would disagree, but he only nodded wearily. 'Thank you.'
The rest of the journey was made in silence. When the helicopter landed gently next to another that had been left by the entrance to some ancient ruins, the agent again turned around. "They are all in there � Morel, Deathstroke, Adeline Wilson. The two of you may do as you please here."
Jessica glanced at Leonid. "Leonid is not joining us?"
The agent chuckled. "Red Star has fulfilled his assignment; now, he goes home. That he was in Germany at all was merely good timing, but once we had observed Castle Waller, and knew you to be involved, it was easier to have him assist you than for us to do all the work ourselves. It would not be in Mother Russia's best interest to reveal our presence at this time, but one way or another, Morel will be dealt with here. As the Germans say, 'Endes gut, alles gut'." He motioned for them to leave.
They waved farewell to Leonid and moved away from the helicopter. If the others were inside the ruins, they were deep inside, for no light shone from the tunnel that was the only entrance. At least it would be warmer inside the ruins; frigid winds had kicked up, adding to the desert's chill.
The region was plunged into near-total darkness as the Russian helicopter left, and she felt a surge of panic. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and slowly they made their way into the tunnel, keeping in contact with one wall to guide them. The faint light from the full moon was quickly absorbed by the inky blackness in the ruins, and they could only hope that the tunnel didn't branch � or worse, have pitfall traps. Carefully, they made their way down a flight of shallow, uneven stairs, travelling in what they hoped was a straight line, until they saw a flicker of light through a doorway ahead, and heard voices raised in anger.
Familiar voices, to Joseph at any rate. He took off at a run, heedless of potential dangers, and she hurried to catch up to him. He froze at edge of the light, staring in horror at the scene unfolding in front of him. Only when she finally reached him and saw what was happening did she understand.
Morel had taken Adeline hostage, holding an ancient but still deadly sword against her throat. Slade, too, had drawn his sword, and the two men faced each other angrily. It was a scene straight out of Joseph's past, albeit with altered roles, and she could see the effect it had on him; he was paralyzed, reliving terrifying memories triggered by the situation they were in.
But Adeline was no helpless three-year-old. She rammed her elbow into Morel's ribs, twisting free of his grasp. The maneuver cost her, though, as the sword bit deeply into the side of her neck. She stumbled and fell, clutching her throat as Slade attacked Morel in a blind rage. Jessica's instincts took over and she rushed forward to help, Joseph right behind her.
Waller and Wintergreen were already at her side, using a strip of cloth torn from Waller's shirt as a bandage. Jessica could see from the position of the bloodstains that the sword had just missed the vital jugular vein, which meant that the wound, though doubtlessly painful, was not critical.
"Keep a constant pressure on it," she told Waller, dropping to her knees beside him. "She's lost more than enough blood to flush the wound; now we have to get it to clot. And she'll need stitches as soon as possible, to stabilize the subdermal tissue connections and minimize the scar."
"Who the heck are you?" Waller asked indignantly.
She shoved him aside impatiently. "A doctor," she snapped, pressing on the wound herself when it was clear that Waller was ignoring her advice. "Miss Kane, don't turn your head too much; the sword damaged your sternocleidomastoid muscle."
Adeline, too, was ignoring her advice, but with better reason. "Joseph," she gasped, "oh honey, you're alive! You're all right!" Instantly, mother and son were locked in a tight embrace, leaving Jessica to sit and watch along with Waller and Wintergreen. She hardly minded; she found that anything which made Joseph happy had her automatic approval.
Adeline wasn't the only one who had noticed Joseph's presence; Slade turned in the midst of his battle to stare at the son he'd thought he'd been forced to kill. "Joe?" he asked hesitantly, forgetting Morel entirely. "Joe, is that really you?" His reaction was understandable, if ill-timed. Joseph looked up at his father just as Morel rammed his sword into Slade's back. With the point of the sword protruding under his sternum, Slade fell to his knees, a look of dazed disbelief on his face.
End, Part Three