Dangerous Studies: Knight Rider Fan Fiction

Part 4: The Pressure Point:

The two interns returned eager to please the professor with the news.

The first intern proudly exclaimed, "we talked to some people bout her phone call and you'll never believe it!"

"Yeah! Never!" The second pipped up; equally as cheerful. 

"What won't I believe? What did you find out? Tell me," the professor demanded. His patience wearing thin with his knuckle-headed assistants. 

"The number she called is unlisted," the first one answered.

The second intern added, "yeah. That means.... technically, the number she dialed doesn't exist."

"Oh?" The professor mused, a coy grin stretching across his tense and chiseled face.

"I still think she called someone at the Foundation she works for. Tell you what, why don't you both go back to Miss Barstow's dorm room. Call me if you see this man--- this man, calls himself Michael Knight, and he may try sneaking around. If you spot him, we are going to have to move our guest here to the warehouse in the desert.. " The professor gently ordered.

"We can do that..." the two chimed in unison. 

Then the second one prompted, "what do we do if he starts asking bout.... Miss Barstow?" 

The professor wiped his palm down his face and heaved a dramatically exasperated sigh. In a cold tone he answered, "you tell him, you haven't seen her or that you don't know who she is. I don't care which. Use your imaginations. NOW GO!" His last two words were spoken with such a pointed edge that the two interns shuddered and stumbled over their feet to get out of his way.

When they had left the professor grumbled to himself, "good help is always hard to find."

A sudden shifting of weight upon the cot and the sound of straining mattress springs alerted the professor to the rousing of his hostage.

"Mi...Micha.." Bonnie incoherently murmured, feeling as though she had been dragged through the world's heaviest fog and through the world's longest night all in one trippy journey. Loose hands made their way to clutch either side of her throbbing head and fingers weaved delicately through tangled portions of relaxed brunette curls, as if by massaging her head would ward away the troublesome headache that now plagued her. Dark-lashes parted to reveal extremely confused pools of clouded aquamarine, which happened to be surrounded by a unsettling shade of hangover pink.  

"Well, Miss Barstow finally awakens," the professor cooed, as if he was attempting to comfort her. 

Bonnie's mind reeled violently with a trillion frazzled ends of incomplete memories. How did she end up here? Where was she? Why did she feel so helpless, yucky, and sluggish? Why was the professor talking to her? She forced herself to focus on details, like Michael had once taught her in a training session back at the Foundation.

"Pr...Professor? Wha...what happened?" Bonnie nervously sputtered in question as she tried to sit up.

"Don't move too much, Miss Barstow. You took a blow to the head......" the professor replied deviously. For his purposes, a lie would get him much further than the truth would with the woman. He got out a glass of water, in which he of course had dumped a truth serum. He wanted answers and he didn't fancy having to wait for them. No, giving the truth serum to her in a glass of water would yield results much faster. Even better still, she'd drink it of her own accord and he wouldn't have to inject her with a needle again. 

"Here drink this," he gently instructed.

"What is it?" She questioned, propping herself up ever so slightly.