Jessie James's green eyes squinted at him. "I would if I could. I've even tried the internet." She shook her head. "The Clan's blocking us somehow. If I knew technology more..." Again she shook her head.
"Tracer."
Knuckles head tilted to one side. "Tracer?"
"There's a tracer." Tommy mumbled. He closed his eyes lightly, wishing the brain fog would lift just a little faster.
"A tracer? You mean like a tag?" Knuckles voice betrayed her sudden excitement. "Where?"
"Shoe... I... I was supposed to activate it once I got inside.
"Inside?" Her mind began to race. "Of course! Crap, of course!" She smacked herself in the head. "You were a plant! Bait! You didn't break from Buckaroo Banzai! It was all a con."
"The tracer." Tommy insisted, wondering why she was making such a big deal over the obviouse.
"yea... which shoe?"
"left."
Jessie pulled the tennis shoe off and inspected it. "I don't see it."
"Let me see."
She slid an arm under Tommy and helped him to sit up.
Tommy grimced as pain threatened to crush the world around him once more.
Quickly, Jessie set the shoe aside and wrapped her arms around the wounded man. "Easy." she whispered. She stuffed a blanket behind his back and head and leaned him against the back of the cab. "Move easy." she encouraged.
Shivering, Tommy blinked away the tears. "Where's the shoe?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Damn the shoe." the girl snapped. "Give it a moment."
taking a deep breath, he reached out a squeezed her arm. "It's getting better." he assured. And, true, his voice was sounding stronger, steadier.
Frowning, jessie watched him for a breath. Then, with a sigh, she handed him the shoe.
This time Perfect Tommy frowned. "This isn't it." he mumbled.
Jessie glanced down at his feet. "That's the left one."
"I don't ware tennis shoes." he pointed out. "This isn't my shoe." He looked away suddenly. "Oh no."
"Oh no what?"
"Oran and her bf... her cousin?"
"What about them?" Knuckles' voice suddenly became emotionless.
"They said they were going to replace me. Send someone back to Buckaroo pretending to be me." His eyes closed again. "Well, damn."
Jessie ran her fingers through her hair. "That's why banzai isn't looking for you. He's already found you. But why does the clan want..."
"Why?" Tommy shrugged. "Same reason all the other wants-to-rule-the-world evil entities want in. We have more brain power in there than the entire world's think tanks put togeather." Perfect Tommy closed his eyes again. "What is he going to do?" he wondered aloud. "Spy on them or break open the bank?"
"Break it wide open." Knuckles answered without a doubt. "The lord isn't patient enough to sit and wait for tid-bits of info." She leaned back again to think.
But Perfect Tommy glanced at her sharply. "I didn't call him Lord." his head was aching bad enough without having to think. But there were questions... "What were you doing there, anyway? Why were you following me? And how do you know about these people?"
Knuckles stared at him for a long moment. Then she rose up and jumped over the side. "I better finish patching up things before we lose the light." she called over her shoulder, returning to her work.
From the bed of the truck, she heard from Perfect Tommy a last "Well, damn."
Pinky Carruthers didn't like this. He didn't like it when things were out of place. He didn't like it when things moved contrary to prediction or habit. he didn't like not being able to tell exactly when, where, and why everyone under his watchful eye was.
And Perfect Tommy was majorly screwing withh all that!
Forget the fact that the boy was, by nature, lazy. But he was messing with things he didn't know anything about, that were not his to mess with, that he didn't even like. The Institute security was Pinky's! And Perfect Tommy had no business sticking his nose into his security.
And that was exactly what Pinky carruthers said when he complained to Rawhide. "Something's wrong with the boy." he insisted, not quite able to keep his concern from softening his anger.
Rawhide rubbed his rough chin. "Keep an eye on him, Pinky." he mumbled. "But keep your distance. We don't know what they did to him. He might be just trying to work things out."
"You gonna talk to the boss?"
Rawhide nodded. "Let us know if he tires to leave." leaving it at that, he returned to the house.
Buckaroo was waiting for him just inside the door. "What do you think?" he asked when he heard the complaint.
"Psychology opinion? Or friend and team mate opinion?" Rawhide was already sorting thrugh is vast knowlage of the human mind for an answer.
"I'll take whatever can explain it."
"Well, he hasn't told us anything about what happened to him. And he refused to get checked out. We have no idea of the damage done, physically nor mentally. he could just have the jitters, or maybe a whack on the head had muddled his thinking a bit." he frowned pushing his hat back on his head.
"Or?" Buckaroo encouraged, though he was pretty sure what the or was.
"It could be Xan's doing."
Buckaroo felt a mixture of cold horror and hot rage run through the center of his being. Through clenched teeth, he growled "A chip."
Rawhide sighed. "We sent him to find out who's been so rudely knockin' on our door. It just might have been a sect of the World Crime League." His eyes locked with Buckaroo's. "He needs to be checked out, boss, wheither he likes it or not."
Buckaroo ran his fingers through his hair. "After a long silent moment, he mumbled "It's late. As soon as he's up in the morning, bring him down to the infirmery. Kicking and fussing if need be."
Rawhide nodded once, but, before walking away, he reached out and gently squeezed his friend's arm.
Buckaroo shook his head. "I can't lose another one to Xan. I won't!" he promised.
