Hour Two
The following takes place between 9:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m.
9:00:42
"Come on, come on..." Jeff grumbled as he looked out over the vast Atlantic Ocean, spread as far in every direction as the eye could see. Ordinarily the sight might be considered beautiful. Blue skies, darker blue waters, the occasional ship or yacht passing beneath him. Not a cloud. Not a drop of rain. Nothing at all but Jeff, the sky...and his tormented thoughts.
It could have been just another hoax, aimed at getting money out of the Tracys. It could've been. But it wasn't. Penny's voice had told the truth of the situation. Parker was dead. Parker...poor Parker. A good man. Had been there for Penny, saving her life countless times. He never missed, ol' Parker. For him to get caught off-guard enough to lose his life meant that they were dealing with someone extraordinary.
And Penelope. It had taken insurmountable odds and personal tragedy for Jeff to realize how much he loved her, and for them to actually become a couple. They had been deliriously happy for two years, having spent the last year of it has husband and wife. The Tracy family fully accepted Penny as the other half of their patriarch now, even though none of them knew about the secret marriage part of the whole deal. Jeff grinned when he thought of what their reaction to that would be. But his grin faded as he recalled her voice...so sad, so frightened. What had she seen?
He checked the chronometer.
Should've taken a faster jet.
But of course, that was nonsense. Tracy Twelve was just as fast as any other jet in the fleet.
Need Thunderbird One.
Oh, God. The boys. They didn't even know. John was gone. But where? Who was Ebony and why had she kidnapped him? She had sounded so sure of herself. Her voice had dripped with bitterness when she'd spoken Jeff's name. But why? There were no answers and with a miserable sigh he opened a communications channel.
"This is Tracy Twelve calling Alan Tracy. Come in, please."
"This is Alan Tracy receiving you, Tracy Twelve."
"Alan, Code Scarlet."
There were several seconds of silence and Jeff heard a faint tinny click before Alan's voice came through again.
"Father, we're on a closed double-blind channel. What's going on?"
"Alert Base, Alan. I want everyone on this so I only have to say it once."
"F.A.B."
Jeff stared straight ahead out the cockpit window, grateful to see the speck on the horizon that meant he was getting closer to England. His hands gripped the steering yoke with such force that his fingers actually hurt. But he couldn't loosen his hold on it. Pain kept him grounded.
"Father, we have everyone listening in, all members accounted for."
"Thank you, Alan. Now everyone, I need you to listen to me. No reactions, just listen. Just about an hour ago I received a phone call from someone claiming to have kidnapped John. A few minutes later, Lady Penelope called and confirmed that John had been taken. Parker was killed during the kidnapping. Penelope is safe for the moment with Sir Jeremy, and I'm on my way to England to pick her up."
Jeff was suddenly cut off by Alan. "Father! It's sir Jeremy on a secure line! It's urgent!"
Damn.
"Patch him through!"
"M-Mr. Tracy?"
"Sir Jeremy, what is it? Is everything okay?"
"No, Sir, I-I'm afraid not. Sir, I..." His voice faded into the ether.
"Sir Jeremy? Sir Jeremy, come in!"
"S-Sorry, Mr...I...they...they took her."
Jeff grew pale, hands gripping the yoke impossibly tighter. "Sir Jeremy," he said, his voice so low it was barely heard back on the island. "Where is Penny?"
"We...we almost made it...two hundred meters...from nowhere, a woman...dark woman...gone...Lady...gone." There was a choked sound and then nothing more.
"Sir Jeremy?"
The air waves were silent.
"Father, the line is still open, but he's not transmitting any longer. I think he's...gone."
Jeff swallowed hard. Now what, Sir Jeremy was dead? What the hell would Jeff find when he landed in England? Penny was "gone," but what did that mean? Kidnapped? Or...or...
Oh, God, why? Why my family, why?
Jeff swallowed again, mindful of the fact that the rest of his family waited for him to speak. "You've all just heard that, I presume."
"Yes, Father," came Scott's voice. Sure and steady, but undoubtedly hiding the same anguish Jeff felt in his own heart.
"I have no idea what's happening over there. I must assume the area near Safe House 34 is hostile. Scott, I want you in the air now in case I need backup."
"F.A.B.!"
"I have to assess the situation in order for us to get as many facts as possible before we act. The rest of you are to do nothing until you receive orders from me."
"But...what if something happens to you, too, Jeff?"
"Mother, I—" Jeff stopped and thought for a second. His mother was right. "Okay, you've made your point. Scott, I'll be landing in approximately thirty-five minutes. From the moment I tell you I've arrived, if you don't hear from me by the time you get to the coordinates, you are to assume I have been incapacitated and take control of International Rescue."
"F.A.B., Dad," Scott responded quietly.
"Remain on Code Scarlet until further notice. I want all hands gathering as much intelligence as possible. The person who claimed she had John called herself Ebony. And Sir Jeremy mentioned something about a 'dark woman.' While Scott's on his way, the rest of you start with those two facts. I'll contact you again once I hit land. Tracy Twelve out."
Jeff knew he should be feeling fear. Trepidation at what he might find near SH-34. But he didn't feel fear. In fact, he didn't feel anything at all. He was numb. Had he lost Lucille, then found love again with Penelope only to lose her as well?
Best not to feel until absolutely necessary.
9:20:27
He awoke with that feeling that he'd been having a terrible nightmare...the kind you can't remember, but know you desperately don't want to have again. The kind that hurts even though it's only in your mind, and only when you sleep at night.
But his mind was strangely silent. Strange...why did he think that strange? Not a sound to be heard, but before his head had hurt, his eyes had hurt...
He startled awake as the realization of it not being a dream hit him like an old-time locomotive. Trying to sit bolt upright...restrained!
I can't move, I can't move!
John jerked his arms. Chains clanked. He jerked his legs. More chains clanked.
What the fuck-?
Eyes open, but dark. Why dark?
"Hello?"
Clank. Clank-clank.
Jerk an arm, a leg, both arms again...try both legs.
My ass is cold.
Shit!
I'm naked! What the-!
"Can anyone hear me?" he called out.
Or, rather, he tried to call out. His throat was dry, raspy. A cry for help morphed into a coughing fit. His eyes watered as he fought to get his tortured throat and lungs under control.
Tortured? Why tortured? What had happened to his lungs? To him?
Where am I? kept repeating over and over in his head as he forced himself not to cough the next cough. His body shook from the effort as tears streamed down his temples.
My ass is cold. He thought the same thought, realized again the same thing, that he was naked. Cold and naked on something just as cold. His hands were like ice, fingers protesting attempts to move them.
Where were the colors, the beautiful, swirling colors? The velvety voice, soft and sweet...
He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Goosebumps rose from every pore. That voice. Something so terribly wrong. He'd been with...who...who? Penny...Penny! He'd been with...oh, God, Parker. Parker, he'd seen him shot, shot many times as he was dragged away, Penny was gone, missing, he'd seen her run into the trees, they'd run after her but he could tell by their shouts she'd gotten away, in his head he cheered, he cheered her on, Go, Penny, run! Run! Run, Penny, run! as his captors pulled him into the cargo plane and spirited him away, he felt them take off and then...then...what?
Darkness. But something else seemed to linger in his mind, something he should be remembering. Crying out in frustration, John began to shiver, jerking against the heavy chains in vain. Whoever had him was trying to make damn sure he didn't get away.
By now, wouldn't his father know he was missing?
9:29:17
She tossed and turned, not having intended to fall asleep at all, but once having rested on the bed, finding it impossible not to. Her mind took her back, back to a time that seemed endless ages ago. A time not so far away in the deepest corners of her mind.
She awoke to find herself shivering. It wasn't cold, exactly, but it wasn't warm, either. Blinking herself to full consciousness, her eyes widened when she realized she was surrounded by darkened shadows, flickering lights playing over walls. But what was the source of the light? Torches. Torches lined the room, flames dancing at the end of the long, wooden posts hanging from what looked like walls of stone.
And she was along one of those walls. She felt the cold, unforgiving stone against her back. Naked? She was naked, head to toe. Her arms hung above her head, bound by metal shackles that mercilessly pinched her wrists. She smelled of spice and scented oils, an intoxicating brew that made her feel lightheaded. The dizzying effect was completed by the surreal firelight that made shadows seem alive. As though they were more than shadows. Much more.
Where was she? The last thing she remembered was...Kuala Lumpur. She and Victor had gone to...what was it...a store of some sort. Victor had apologized for sidetracking them from their destination, which had been the street fair on the main avenue.
Now she remembered...
"I'll only be a moment, darling. Then we'll go and buy you all the pretty things your heart desires."
She smiled at Victor. He treated her like a princess, unlike any other man had ever treated her. They were to be wed in two months. This was a sort of...pre-wedding gift, he'd told her.
"I'll just wait out here, Victor," she smiled. "Be quick."
He disappeared inside the building. She turned her attention to the passers-by, some tourists like she and Victor, some Malay natives going about their daily lives. A peddler stopped, trying to get her to purchase something from his cart. She politely refused, making it as clear as she could that she was not interested in his shabby wares. He spoke no English, but thankfully seemed to understand, and continued on his way.
A mother with her two children walked by, the small boy no more than five years of age staring at her as though she were an oddity the likes of which he'd never seen. She supposed she might have been at that, considering most Malaysians were lighter of hair, eye and skin than she. But surely the boy had seen other tourists living in a city such as this.
That's when she noticed their clothing. Not modern, like other Kuala Lumpurians she'd encountered. It looked very simple...homemade. This family must have been from one of the outlying areas, she reasoned. One of the poorer villages. Then it was a distinct possibility the boy hadn't ever seen one with jet black hair and dark, dark eyes, one whose skin was like coal compared to his own.
She was so lost in her musings on the boy and his mother that she didn't see it coming. Didn't hear the creaking of the peddler's cart. Didn't notice as it stopped so close to her. She felt strong arms grasp her from behind, one hand closing over her mouth, stifling the scream that tried to break forth. The arms hauled her back into the nearby alley, forcing her to the ground. In the same moment she realized she'd been thrown onto a large handmade rug, she felt it being pulled over her, and then she was rolling over and over and over. Cocooned into the rug.
Trying to scream again, only then did she realize a cloth had been stuffed into her mouth. Her voice died in her throat as she flipped over three more times, and then stopped. A grunting sound as she was lifted, then plopped down upon something that creaked. Creaked. The peddler's cart!
Her suspicions were confirmed as the cart began to move. She recognized the sounds. It was the peddler's cart indeed. Arms pinned to her sides, legs smashed tightly together, she couldn't move an inch. The last thing she heard as the cart creaked away was Victor's voice.
"Judith!" he cried at the top of his lungs. "Judith!"
Now she remembered it all. She'd been kidnapped, and had heard Victor yelling for her as she'd been carted away. Tear-filled eyes opened once more as she realized she was no longer alone in this cool, clammy room. She watched as naked men carried a young girl, who couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, into the room and laid her atop what looked to Judith like a gray stone altar. The tabletop was a different hue, like black marble, and much larger than the child's bare form.
Who were these men? She peered through the flickering light, for something seemed off about them somehow, just not quite right. And then her eyes fell lower upon one of the men, and she knew what it was. He'd been castrated. They all had. Her jaw dropped. Eunuchs? But why? Where was she?
They all looked like native Malay, if the populace in Kuala Lumpur had been any indication. The girl was not bound, but she made no attempt to escape. Her long, black hair fell over the sides of the altar, only the rise and fall of her chest indicating life. The eunuchs gathered in a semicircle around one side of the altar, facing Judith. And they began to moan.
Ebony awoke with a start, sweat pouring from her body. Who had interrupted her? She clapped her hands and composed herself as two slaves appeared to bathe her. Her jaw was steady, her eyes showed no emotion as they cleansed her from head to toe.
She knew who'd interrupted her. Who it had to be.
After all, John Tracy must be awake by now.
9:41:02
Scott brought his 'bird to cruising altitude but this time didn't settle back into his pilot's chair as he normally did.
Goddammit.
Two years ago, all that death and destruction and now? It was happening all over again. He had that feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like the world was about to drop out from under him again. Out from under all of them.
I can't lose John. I can't.
Scott's hands gripped the levers tighter and tighter until his knuckles were white with the effort.
Fly faster, girl, he thought as he inched a little more juice out of his rocket plane. John and Penny...and Dad...their lives might depend on it.
His body remained rigid.
9:42:58
Ebony relaxed in the bath as many hands washed her body. Inevitably, her mind went back...back...
It sounded like a song, low and mournful to her ears. Their eyes were closed, their hands folded palm-to-palm in front of their faces. She jerked in surprise, the chains of her shackles clanking as the torches suddenly flared, burning brighter than they had before. Her breath caught in her throat as a long shadow fell across the altar. Looking to the left, she saw a long hall, and watched as the shadow grew larger and larger.
Until a man appeared. He was large. Larger than any man she'd ever seen. His feet were bare, his body unclothed save for legs clad in black that seemed to cling to every muscle. His head was bald, his eyes glinting ferociously in the iridescent light. He looked to his right...directly at her.
Never before had she felt what emanated from him. He walked slowly in her direction; his movements supple and calculated, as though every step was choreographed, every scene rehearsed. Her breath came quickly as his very presence overwhelmed her. His aura demanded respect, his face commanded attention. She could not look away, her mind forgetting her own name, forgetting her past, forgetting what made her Judith Baker. She had no beginning. No end. Now she was only flesh and blood, every nerve on fire, heat searing through her skin as each step brought him nearer. Nearer.
9:45:16
The plane landed sure and steady; a far cry from the actual state of its pilot. He hid that state of mind well as he took in his surroundings. The old disused air strip was no more than thirty feet from the edge of Yorkshire Dales National Park, a large preserve in the middle of the island known as England.
He'd seen nothing out of the ordinary from the air. Circling the expanse of forest, he could only hope that somehow Penelope would be hiding out, waiting for him, for the sound of his jets as he flew overhead, for the sound of the tires squealing as they hit the rugged pavement.
It had been years since Safe House 34 had been needed, but it would've been kept in tip-top condition nonetheless, he mused. Opening the hatch, Jeff turned and reached back behind the cockpit seats, keying open a small panel. It flipped outward to reveal a machine pistol. He loaded it, stuffed it into his waistband and lifted his watch to his face.
"This is Jeff Tracy calling International Rescue."
"Receiving you, Father," came Virgil's strained voice.
"Virgil, I've just landed outside Yorkshire Dales, Air Strip 2-H. Everything seems to be pretty quiet. I'm going to head toward the safe house."
"F.A.B. Should I notify Scott?"
"Yes. Tell him to land just behind the jet. What's his ETA?"
"ETA Thunderbird One now 28.2 minutes."
"F.A.B. Tell him to go silent upon arrival. I'm setting my comm to vibrate. Have you or the others come up with anything on Ebony?"
"Not yet, Father. We're all buried in old files, web searches and calling anyone we know. Agent 12 is on stand-by to assist."
"12, huh? Nishan Ohanessian. He just set up here in England, didn't he?"
"Yes, Father. He's been there about four months now, he said, but he's quite familiar with his grid."
"All right. I'll keep that in mind. Jeff Tracy out."
Jeff scanned the area around his jet one more time before disembarking and locking it down. Hand on the butt of his pistol, he headed for an old ramshackle shed on the runway's eastern edge. It took a few minutes to open the door and check out the vehicle inside, but soon he was in the dark green Land Rover and on his way to find...
Find what? Death? Life?
Not the point now, Jeff. Keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground. Check the radar. He looked at his watch, which had switched to radar mode. There didn't seem to be a soul in the area.
That's what worried him.
9:59:58
9:59:59
10:00:00