David Golemon - Primeval

Silence gripped the interior of the plane as Alice quickly looked around after shutting down the hologram. Ryan, for his part, only stared straight ahead. Alice quickly fired up both engines and then taxied back the way they had come until they settled underneath one of L.A.'s old bridges, where she feathered both engines. She took a deep breath and then looked at the white-faced Ryan.

"Well, we're here. Up the road about two miles is Elysian Park. You see Dodger Stadium up there? Well, the park is right below it."

Ryan was still staring straight ahead, not moving.

"I hope you watched what I did, Mr. Ryan, because you're flying my baby out of here since I have to get home."

"Wh… what?" he finally asked, still not looking at Alice.

"I said, you're flying my plane out of here. I have to get to LAX and catch a flight home. I left a casserole in the oven and I can't trust Garrison to follow instructions until he sees flames."

"But… but…"

Alice slapped him on the leg. "Oh, for an old carrier pilot like you, it should be fun." She smiled wide and unsnapped her seatbelt.

From the back there were audible signs of relief as the others started to realize they hadn't crashed. Then the sound of the small bathroom door was heard opening.

"Hey," Mendenhall said with a shaky voice, "that restroom is officially off limits."

Alice looked back at Ryan as they came through the curtain and a questioning look crossed her face as she removed her headset.

"We don't have a bathroom on this plane."

A moment later, Alice stood under the large wing and the left wing float of the plane after checking the undercarriage of the Grumman. She pronounced everything fit as she looked at Jack.

"Colonel, you know I wouldn't abandon you like this if I hadn't the need to keep an eye on that old man. If I could—"

Collins just reached out and pulled Alice to him, and hugged her, cutting off her words.

"Thank you," he whispered in her ear.

Alice hugged him back and then pulled away, locking her eyes with his. "Find your baby sister, Jack, and bring her home," she said, patting him on the chest just over his heart.

Collins nodded and then turned away toward the tall sloping sides of the concrete Los Angeles River.

Alice Hamilton looked over the old seaplane one last time, patting it lovingly on the wing float.

"Take care of her, Lieutenant."

Ryan smiled and gave Alice a salute as he turned and left, following Jack, Carl, and Mendenhall up the slick sides of the river.

Sarah hugged Alice good-bye. "You sure you can get out of here alright?" she asked.

"Honey, if I can climb K-2, I can get my old ass out of here."

"You climbed—"

"You go help Jack, he needs you. And listen to me, I think this is far more than just finding his sister; this may be the reason Jack has been so distant and secretive. Now go, I'll be fine."

Sarah half smiled and then turned and ran after the others. Alice looked over her old airplane one last time.

"You take good care of them," she said and then walked away toward the steep sloping side of the river.

The low rider, a 1961 Chevy Impala, pulled slowly up to the curb and let out a loud whine as the front air shocks and hydraulics were relieved of their pressure, then the rear suspension raised to level out the car as it settled next to the curb in Elysian Park.

Jack climbed from the passenger seat, followed by Sarah. The others piled from the backseat, with Will Mendenhall lagging while he admired the old-fashioned Tuck N' Roll upholstery. Will knew he was home again.

Collins walked up to the driver's side of the car and handed the driver a hundred-dollar bill. The Mexican American driver took it and then looked the colonel over closely. The red bandana covering his short hair was pulled down almost to his eyes.

"You know, jefe, you guys stand out like white corn in an alfalfa field."

"I suspect we do," Jack said as Sarah stepped up beside him.

The driver eyed the small woman for a very noticeable minute. Then he looked at Jack and then to the hundred-dollar bill. "Keep it, my man, buy the lady something nice," he said as he raced his engine and then peeled away from the curb, the music loud enough to feel it through the soles of their feet.

Jack looked around and then down at Sarah. He smiled and then started walking to catch up with Everett who was confirming the street address.

"I think it may be the one covered in police tape, Captain," Mendenhall said as he pointed to the large house on the corner.

"Smart-ass," Carl said as he spied the house ahead. Then Mendenhall caught sight of Everett reaching into his shirt, obviously clicking the safety off of his hidden nine-millimeter.

At ten at night, most families were still out and about. Lights were on and televisions could be seen flickering through shaded windows. Looking down into Elysian Park, Collins could see kids still hanging out in large numbers, and far up in Chavez Ravine, a Dodger game was just starting. As he took in the Chavez house, yellow police tape was pulled from column to column on the wraparound porch and was crisscrossed at the front door. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. When he saw only an old battered Ford pickup across the street from the house, he walked up the small slope of grass and bounded up the six wide front steps.

Sarah, Mendenhall, and Jason Ryan followed Collins onto the front porch. Everett held position at the base of the front steps, looking outward from the front yard. It seemed no one cared about the house where the thief Chavez used to live.

"Jack?" Carl said after a moment of time.

"Yeah, I feel it, too," Collins said backing away from the door.

"Feel what," Sarah whispered, not feeling at all comfortable.

"Someone's watching us," Jack said backing away from the door. Then Ryan leaned over the side of the porch and shook his head.

"Police cruiser — empty," he said, knowing they had been too hasty to climb the porch.

Suddenly the door opened, pulling away the yellow police tape that was stuck to the outside. Jack and the others placed hands on their hidden weapons.

"Don't shoot," a voice from the dark said. "There were two L.A. police officers here, they're cuffed at the moment and sitting in the living room, unharmed."

Jack shook his head and watched as the front door opened all the way.

"Damn, you're still a sneaky old bastard," Collins said, relaxing.

As the door opened fully, the dim streetlamps that lined the sidewalk showed a large bear of a man as he stepped into the frame of the door.

"At least I don't go bounding up the front steps without reconnoitering first."

"Damn, Punchy, it's good to see you," Jack said as he held out his hand. "There was a rumor you were dead."

Alexander shook Jack's hand and then grimaced and grabbed his chest and then gestured forward with his wounded shoulder. "If it wasn't for the body armor I had on, I would be, my friend. As it is, those two Russian bastards were so intent on taking your little sister they didn't linger to do the job right."

"I always thought you hated wearing armor. You always said your chest and big belly was enough to stop any bullet made." Jack eyed his old friend closely.

"Yeah, well, getting old will make you feel closer to the afterlife than you would think," Alexander answered, not noticing the closeness of which Jack was eyeing him.

"Everyone, this is Jonathan Alexander, the head of the Montreal sector of CSIS, the Canadian Intelligence Service."

"If you're Jack's people, Punchy will do."

"You were there, at the ambush?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, young lady, I was there."

Jack stepped around Punchy and entered the Chavez home. He immediately saw the two policemen sitting against the far wall of the living room. They were, as Punchy had said, unhurt. Collins eased the nine-millimeter into his waistband and then turned as the others entered the entrance hall, followed finally by Everett who eased the door closed.