This is a story that's been rattling around in my imagination for quite a while now, and it's finally starting to come together.  It's another in the "Future Past" series, inspired by the "Where Do You Start Series."  It's time to get a good look into what it is that Jonny and Jessie are up to "now."

Disclaimer: Characters and associated details are property of Hanna-Barbera and are used for non-profit entertainment purposes only.

Archiving permission granted.

THE FUTURE (PAST) ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: As adults, Jonny & Jessie share another adventure.

Categories: F, E, JQ/JB HR

"MEETING OF THE MINDS" - Chapter One

by Eric R. Umali

"CEO"

Jon scrolled through the list again, jotting down notes on a small pad.  On his screen was a series of details, arrangements and strategies.  It was known as a security proposal, but Jonathan Quest understood it better-- it was a battle plan.

A giant telecommunications company was holding a technological conference in a few weeks that they hoped would speed new developments.  A number of the most prominent researchers, developers and executives in the field would be in attendance, so every effort was made to provide the best security possible.  When those avenues were exhausted and found wanting, the CEO called in nearly every favor he had left with the U.S. Government, and was put in contact with the Company.

The Company, founded by a group of young men with high ideals and a disappointment in the state of security-- both in technology and philosophy-- was now the most successful and well-respected anti-terrorism firm in the world.  It was also the most secret.

Finishing the list and rubbing his eyes, founding father and the Company's de facto head, Jonathan Quest leaned back in his chair.  As dedicated as he was to the task before him, Jon felt his attention constantly being drawn away.  For the last few days, he had been turning over a very important decision in his mind, and had yet to come to a conclusion.

The phone line rang.  His computer screen changed, displaying a world map and details of the incoming call.  Jon noted the call's origin as San Diego, then watched as the call was routed halfway across the globe before being shunted to his desk inside the nondescript Baltimore, Maryland office building.  The line was opened.

"Yes?" asked Jon, addressing the monitor.

"Uhhh, have I connected to the Company?" said a hesitant voice.

"That depends," he replied, "on who this is."

"Raymond DuFour, head of security for..."

"I know who you are, Mr. DuFour.  Your company was told it would have our security proposals on Monday morning.  It is Thursday afternoon.  Our delivery _will_ be on time.  Good day."  Jon's finger headed for the keyboard.

"Look, I don't know who you are, Mister, but no one talks to me--"

"_I_ do.  The Company has much more important things to do than provide a consultation for you, Mr. DuFour, but we are doing so as a favor.  Both you and your employer agreed to our terms when we were hired for the consultation."

DuFour's annoyance was becoming obvious.  "I am aware of that.  Our company has no wish to renege on that agreement."

"Good.  Then what's your business?"

"The C.E.O. wants to discuss a new agreement."

Jon gave a quiet snort.  "Out of the question."

"Well, you're just going to have to tell him that yourself," replied DuFour, and Jon was immediately placed on hold.  Before any new connection could be made, Jon terminated the call.

He closed his eyes.  "Four... three... two... one."  The phone rang again.  The caller waited as the call was rerouted, and a little longer, as Jon let him sweat a few seconds.

"Yes?"

"I apologize for Mr. DuFour's attitude."

"It's to be expected from a chief of security-- attitude is part of the job."

"Yes, yes of course," the voice on the other end agreed.  "I'm--"

"Patrick McCann, C.E.O.  What can I do for you?"

"You know?  Of course you do.  I'd like to propose an alteration to our agreement."

"The answer is 'no', Mr. McCann."

"You haven't heard the proposal."

"I don't need to.  The Company did not get to where it is by bargaining or haggling."

McCann sighed.  "I'm willing to double your fee."

"This is not about money, Mr. McCann," said Jon sharply.  Then, thoughts of his more practical partners came unbidden.  "But I'll hear you out."

"Good, good.  Mister... ahh, how exactly should I address you?"

"Just get to it."

"Very well.  Let me begin by assuring you that my company and I have every confidence in whatever plans your firm are currently drawing up for us.  However, I am sure you can understand our concern for safety.  I've decided that we would feel much better if your firm handled the actual security duties yourselves."

"Out of the question, Mr. McCann.  The Company is simply far too busy with other matters.  I assure you that your local authorities and security forces will be more than adequate _if_ you adhere to our security proposal exactly."

"I'm afraid, sir," McCann said sternly, "that I cannot accept that answer.  If your firm is unable to take a personal hand in the providing of security, my company will have to terminate our relationship."

Jon was unfazed.  "That is, of course, your decision.  However, that would not be wise on your part.  I am certain that you could find a number of other security firms more than willing to do so, and I'm sure they will do it for much less than the Company.  I do feel the need to point out that _none_ of them will do it nearly as well."

"I have to admit that you're right.  Isn't there any kind of compromise we could reach?"

"None comes to mind."

McCann was silent a while.  "Perhaps you would be willing to send a representative or two to oversee the security for the event?"

Jon drummed his fingers on his desk, thinking.  "This will be taken under consideration, Mr. McCann.  We'll be in touch."  He severed the connection without another word.

He sat back, unconsciously running a finger across his monitor screen.  Like most people nowadays, he was still impressed by the advent of the real-time videophone, particularly by the elimination of the microphone.  The screen was covered by a thin, clear plastic membrane that picked up his voice and sent it on its way.  Unlike most people, however, he was on very friendly terms with its inventor-- a red-headed firebrand he always called "Ace."

Activating his intercom, his screen divided into quarters, three of them filled with the faces of his partners, Ray Larson, Fahad Aziz and David Maneheim.

"Just a moment of your time, guys," Jon said curtly.  "McCann has a proposition..."

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT: "CLOSE CALL"