Author´s Note: I'm aware that this story is not entirely according canon, since according to the imdb it should be situated somewhere after season 4, yet I have an only 14-year-old Stevie, and I use Lou as the sergeant in charge of K-9. Reason for this is that my main recent knowledge of the series comes from the French "Rintintin Junior" dvd´s, where the Paris conspiracy was placed at the end of season 3. But I'm also not that familiar with Sgt. Phillips; so that´s another reason.

Anyway, the story is still very much WIP; I'm not even sure I'm going to keep this title! :-)



Between Death and Despair


It all happened so fast, so quietly. So efficiently.

He was about two blocks away from K-9 headquarters in the small, quiet industrial area behind the railway-station when a black car pulled up beside him. The driver got out with a map in his hand. "Hey lad, I think I'm lost. Do you think you could point out to me where the hell I am?"

Stevie smiled. "Sure." He walked around the car as the driver spread out a streetmap of the city on the boot. He bent down over it and the next thing he knew the driver pressed a cloth over his face. It smelled nauseating. Suffocating, and in an instant he realized it had to be chloroform or something like that. He wanted to scream!

But a velvety blackness wrapped itself around him, and he wasn´t even aware that he silently slid down on the asphalt.

Four hands picked him up and tossed him into the boot of the car. Car-doors opened and closed, the map was placed on the passenger-seat, and the car drove off at a calm pace. Towards the harbour.

Arriving at the very last dock not five minutes later, the limp body was simply dropped into a waiting wooden crate, and the crate was sealed. Two sailors picked it up and carried it on board of the foreign cargoship, lying there with the motors running. The driver and one of his helpers went on board, too. The landing was pulled in, and the roaring motors pushed the ship out of port immediately.

The second helper waved a last goodbye and got back in the car. Only to discover too late that the gear-box had been tampered with: when he put the car in reverse, instead it jumped forward and went over the quay. A splash and a few minutes of bubbles was all that was ever heard from the guy again.

Ten minutes had passed since the driver had stopped to ask Stevie the way.

Ten minutes.

There were no witnesses.

No tracks.

Everything cool, calm and efficient.

A professional´s job.