Ch 7

Another beautiful day had dawned on the island of the perfect wave. A bright morning sun warmed the island's golden sand and a gentle breeze slightly stirred its thick canopy of trees. Small groups of surfers huddled at the edge of the ocean keenly watching the waves break. Others were waxing their boards and waving to friends already heading out to the surf. Alan Tracy stood at the window of Gordon's beach hut, absentmindedly turning his brother's wristwatch over and over in the palm of his hand. He studied the surfers on the beach and in the ocean, desperately hoping he would catch a glimpse of Gordon's familiar copper hair.

Scott Tracy had been rummaging through the hut. Now he approached Alan holding out Gordon's wallet for his brother to see. "Everything intact – money, cards – as far as I can tell nothing is missing."

Alan turned away from the window and held up the wrist com. "It's working okay. At least a hundred messages from all of us, none answered."

Scott sighed and ran a hand through his thick wavy hair. "His passport was in the safe, his luggage near his bed, and his goddamn surfboard at the back door...it doesn't look good, Al"

"His board's still here, that could be one positive – he wasn't in the surf and, a ..." Alan stopped, he couldn't voice what had been lurking in his mind ever since he heard Gordon's chip was removed, that his brother had been taken by a shark.

Scott clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. He could feel a slight tremor in the young man's body. He knew the bond the youngest Tracys shared. Slightly increasing the pressure of his hold, Scott gave Alan a determined smile and a nod of support. "We will find Gordon, Alan, but we must remain strong for his sake."

Alan nodded, took a deep breath, and recovering his composure asked, "What now?"

His worry for his younger brother concealed by a seemingly untroubled exterior, Scott's ability to instantly make decisions jumped to the fore. "We'll try and see if anyone saw Gordon last night and retrace his steps. There is still the possibility he is on the island – he could be injured or detained in some way. I'll get Dad to call in the IR agents, they can conduct a thorough search and interview anyone of interest. The island is small so we should know if he isn't here in the next few hours. If that is the case I will send word to John to trace all flights inbound and outbound, and we'll return to base."

"Return to base? You don't think we should stay here in case he turns up?" Alan asked, a vision swam into his mind of a bloody Gordon staggering up the beach disorientated and alone.

Scott shook his head in reply, "We have better resources at base to conduct the search." Scott started to collect Gordon's possessions, "We're wasting time. I have to report back to Dad with everything we found so far, and unfortunately no real inroads into Gordon's disappearance have been made."

Alan nodded and set about helping his brother gather Gordon's belongings.

Gordon woke with a gasp. His head hurt, and his shoulder ached with a dull throb. With bleary eyes he looked around him. He was in a bed. The bed was white, the room was white, everything was white including the light cotton pyjama bottoms he wore. Heaven? No, he hurt too much, a hospital? Gordon groaned, not another hospital.

"Oh, you're awake!" A plump middle aged woman dressed in a white nurse's uniform leaned over the young man, her cheery smile of no comfort to Gordon's pain or mood.

"Where am I?"

The woman helped Gordon sit up, fluffing up a pillow for the aquanaut to lean back on. She gave him a glass of water, which he sipped gratefully.

"On the island's medical clinic, young man."

Gordon frowned. Medical clinic, hospital, he could see no difference. "Was I sick?"

The nurse nodded sympathetically, "Food poisoning, poor dear."

"Food poisoning?" Gordon repeated trying to think what he had eaten. The only meal he remembered was breakfast and that seemed like years ago.

"How'd I get here?"

Smiling brightly, the woman set about taking Gordon's temperature and blood pressure. "So many questions! Your friends brought you here. They were very worried and stayed by your side for hours until I kicked them out."

Friends. Gordon tried to think who his friends were. The beautiful smile of a dark haired girl flashed into his head. "Oh, Mia!"

"Yes, I think one of your friends was called Mia. Don't worry yourself; she'll no doubt call again."

The nurse presented Gordon with a tray of food. "The food's very bland, I'm afraid. Your stomach is still very weak."

As weak as his stomach was, it was also rumbling from lack of sustenance. Gordon wolfed down the toast and crackers.

As he ate, Gordon couldn't help notice his shoulder was bandaged. The nurse saw Gordon tentatively touch the bandage and explained, "I believe you also had a bit too much alcohol, and you unfortunately fell into someone's glass."

Gordon grimaced. "Really? It's not too bad is it?" He flexed his shoulder and winced at a twinge of pain. "What about surfing? Please don't tell me I won't be able to surf."

Patting Gordon on his uninjured shoulder, the woman smiled. "Only a few stitches, love. No real damage to you or your surfing."

His downer of a day lifted slightly by some good news, Gordon relaxed back into his pillow. "Have you contacted my family?"

The nurse's cheery smile fell. "We had a freak storm, all communication was down for awhile and we couldn't contact them, but now you're awake we can put a call through if you like?"

Gordon sat up straighter. "Ah, no. No need to worry them. Surely, I'll be out of here soon. My family will only want me to come home and I really want to get back to the surf."

The woman tittered with laughter, "Oh my, you surfers are all alike, keen as mustard to get back on your boards."

The nurse presented Gordon with two tiny white pills and a glass of water to wash them down. "Take these, they're for your shoulder. Then you can have a rest while I'll go and see if your friends can come and collect you."

The nurse watched Gordon carefully as he rinsed the pills down with the water. Her cheery smile reappeared as she took the glass from him and helped him lie back down on the bed.

With heavy eyes, Gordon watched the woman bustle around the room until he could no longer keep his eyes open, he had felt so awake before but now he felt so...so...very...very...tired.

From across the room, the nurse saw the young Tracy had quickly succumbed to the powerful sedatives. Crossing to his bed, the woman checked Gordon's vital signs and placed him in the 

recovery position before reattaching him to a heart monitor. Satisfied with her work, the nurse left the room and spoke to a man standing in the corridor.

"Tell Control the item is ready to be delivered to the player."

The man nodded before flicking open his phone and dialling a number.

"Control, we're ready to go."