Usual disclaimers apply. Warnings for descriptions of violence and strong language in this chapter. Thanks to all reading and reviewing.
Kyrano opened his eyes as he heard the door of the infirmary swish open. He eased himself into a sitting position as Brains handed him a glass of water as requested. Tin Tin hovered by his side, fluffing his pillows.
"How d-d-do you f-f-feel now?" Brains asked him, pushing his glasses up his nose as Kyrano drained the glass.
"I think I just overheated in the kitchen," Kyrano said, meeting Brains' eyes with a steady gaze.
"You l-l-looked like you were h-h-having a fit..." Brains objected, matching Kyrano's gaze with his own.
"If there is a m-m-medical condition I s-s-should be aware of…" Brains trailed off as Tin Tin shook her head, dismissing the question.
"My father has told you what happened. Please Brains, he needs to rest." Brains hesitated, but at Tin Tin's insistent nod, he left the infirmary, closing the door behind him quietly. Left alone, Kyrano placed his hand over his daughters, easing her closer.
"It was not overheating Father, was it?" she asked softly. Kyrano shook his head with a soft sigh.
"I have spoken with you many times about my childhood in Malaysia…I lived in a small village with my mother and father, your grandmother and grandfather. We lived a long time in our own community, without any interference. We were thought to be almost 'backwards' with our traditions and our simple way of life. But it was a happy time."
Tin Tin smiled fondly as her father recalled the memories. She had been soothed to sleep as a child by stories from her father's village, traditional tales that had been passed down through generations. She understood the deep beliefs the villagers held towards the forest and its power.
"My mother married again and she had another son. My half-brother. We would spend many hours of the day playing and learning about the forest together. My step-father was a shaman, he knew which plants and flowers could cure, could grant haunting visions…could kill…He was a powerful man, the villagers said when they spoke with him about illness, he had an understanding greater than they could have told him. It was as though he could experience their pain by getting inside their thoughts. It was said that my half-brother had powers greater than his father…"
"He had great powers and as we grew older, he refined his talents. He did not use them to cure, as his father had. No, he used them for wrong purposes. He used his powers to control others, to carry out deeds that were inherently evil."
"You have never told me this Father," Tin Tin commented as Kyrano stopped for a moment. He glanced at Tin Tin with a sad smile.
"It is not a happy story my daughter. I have not seen him since he was banished from the village…I do not know what happened to him…but I have a suspicion…Tin Tin, the village that International Rescue visited was my home village…I believe this demon, my half-brother, is involved in what had happened."
"But how could you possibly…?" Tin Tin paused as she saw genuine devastation cross her father's face.
"He shows me visions…he has shown me Scott and Virgil…"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Information was beginning to filter through to Jeff about the area in which Scott and Virgil had gone missing, thanks to Penny's contacts and some networking with MI6 agents based in Malaysia. It was early morning when Penny called in with another update, but Jeff had been waiting at his desk for hours, unable to sleep for any length of time. Penny smiled pleasantly as their satellite link connected and her face appeared on his computer screen.
"Good morning Jeff.
"Good evening Penny," Jeff smiled at the age old exchange between the two.
"I've been in touch with Jack and Ethan. They made it to the village the boys were working in. It's as isolated as the boys reported. They are reliant on an old telephone system to speak with Sir Jeremy and myself. It is not the most reliable system, so information from now on could be limited."
"I understand. John spoke at length with me about the basic nature of the village. What information did they pass on to you?"
"Well, they thought that perhaps the town would be buzzing with the news that International Rescue had been there, the fact that there were causalities in the recent attack, but there's been nothing…"
"Nothing?" It was rare that the arrival of International Rescue in any town, village or city did not cause some sort of fuss. The general secrecy of both their identities and their equipment meant that most were desperate to catch a glimpse of those regarded as near superheroes. As a result of constant attempts to photograph and film the rescues, Brains had fitted electromagnetic devices which would prevent any video or photographs being recorded. For a small village like the one the boys had visited, being silent about their recent International Rescue experiences, Jeff was shocked and a little worried.
"Jack told me he'd asked some very blunt questions about what had happened to the buildings in the village and was told that they had collapsed during the monsoon season…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug. Concern flared in Jeff. He wondered if the whole terrorist threat and rescue was an elaborate guise to entice his sons to their fate.
"Is it a cover up?"
"Not exactly Jeff, the national press have reported it and given the name of the organisation claiming responsibility as a rebel group protesting the Indonesian occupation of their land...it has been a long standing issue within the country Jeff."
"Perhaps the locals are just too scared to speak out?" Jeff put in, watching Penny shake her head.
"The two agents have worked in a huge number of terrorist cases in the country...they said they have never seen anything quite like this. People are calm, almost placid were the words they used...Jeff, I'm not entirely sure what is going on...this isn't simply a terrorist group taking hostages..." Jeff's forehead creased as he leant forward on his desk, the muscles in his neck tightening.
"What are you telling me Penny? That we've been specifically targeted?"
"That's what Sir Jeremy and I believe Jeff, yes..." Jeff sat back, sighing deeply.
"Should we expect some sort of ransom demand? It's been two weeks since they disappeared…" Penny's face remained calm, but she was equally as worried as Jeff.
"The agents in Malaysia are trying to find anyone that might tell them more…I will update you as soon as I hear anything."
"Thanks Penny, we will speak soon." Jeff terminated the link and opened the cupboard in his study, taking another bottle of Penny's malt whiskey. Beside the bottle were Scott dog tags from his last tour of duty, North Korea, a memory of a past life that seemed so long ago now. The whiskey slid down his throat easily as he turned over the dog tags in his hand. Scott had handed them to his father when he had officially stepped down from his post in the Air Force and stepped up as the Field Commander for International Rescue. Scott had never spoken openly about leaving an illustrious career behind him.
Well, never to his father, but he assumed that Scott and Virgil would have spoken about it at some point.
Jeff wondered if Scott had known the potential dangers, the heartbreak at watching his own brothers being injured, their lives continually at risk, would he have agreed as readily?
Moving into the lounge, the piano stood silent. Jeff was always mesmerised by the most artistic of his sons as he sat, paint or even oil spattered, and coaxed the most beautiful classical melodies from the instrument. He looked the least likely person to play such music. How Virgil had ever shrugged off the acceptance letter to Julliard Jeff would never know. He'd shared his ideas for International Rescue with Scott and Virgil very early on and wondered whether the need for an engineer amongst the ranks had swayed Virgil's decision.
Jeff could only imagine how the events in their prison camp would be impacting on Scott's state of mind. Sure, he had been in a hostage situation before. But never with his closest brother as a fellow captive. Scott was always level headed and clear on a rescue, the only times Jeff had felt Scott was almost panicking had been the occasions where Virgil had been at risk...The Sentinel incident...Scott had been a wreak, although he would never have admitted it after.
Now they had a daily battle for survival facing them.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
The beginnings of sunrise and the accompaniment of the dawn chorus woke the two brothers, bedraggled and exhausted. Scott reached out, touching at Virgil's arm, as if to make sure he was still there. He smiled softly as he felt Virgil's fingers find his hand, a gentle squeeze to tell him he was okay...or as okay as anyone could be in their situation.
"If you could have anything right now, what would it be?" Scott's voice sounded floaty and Virgil struggled to process the words.
Days without food and water as a punishment for their failed escape had left him feeling weak. He didn't care what he'd been told about the body's amazing capacity to survive in even the harshest of conditions, he felt like he could die at any moment.
"Grandma's apple pie..." he mumbled. "A bottle of some nice South American beer..."
"Corona?"
"Yeah...and lime..."
"Yeah."
"A cigarette and Beethoven's Piano Sonata number 20...in G Major..." Virgil trailed off with a half-hearted laugh. Scott joined him before shifting his body so he could look at Virgil. His brother was fading fast, he didn't believe the lack of food and water had everything to do with it.
"We're going to get out of here...it's only a matter of time Virg..."
"I know..."
"I don't think you do...c'mon, stay with me...trust me..."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Alan hadn't slept properly for two weeks, the same number of weeks his brother's had been missing. Having lain in his bed, looking at the coffee stain on his desk for hours, he acknowledged that his quest for sleep was hopeless. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered through his home, finding Tin Tin studying an old, battered book at the kitchen table and Gordon snoring on the couch.
"Would you like a coffee Alan?" Tin Tin asked him, gesturing to the cafitiere sitting in front of her.
"It's one in the morning..."
"I know. More reason for coffee..." Tin Tin shrugged as she poured him one, adding milk and sugar before returning to her book, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Alan sat down next to her, cupping his hands around the chipped mug.
"What are you looking at?" he asked, pointing to the book.
"It's just something my father said earlier today. I wanted to know more about it…it's nothing, really," Tin Tin sighed, pushing away the book and paper and taking a gulp of her coffee.
"Just trying not to think, right?" Alan guessed, smiling sadly as she nodded. He reached over, pulling the book towards him and admiring the title. It was written in Malay and Alan pushed it back towards TinTin.
"It's a book about traditional stories from the Malaysian Rainforest. My father helped write it before he left for America," Tin Tin explained. A flicker of uncertainty crossed Alan's face as Tin Tin opened the book at the page she had previously been studying. She turned it to let Alan see clearly the hand drawn pictures.
"John said these drawings show the village…" she trailed off, watching Alan frown, his fingers smoothing the page.
"What does it say about this place?" he asked softly. Tin Tin pointed to a paragraph of text below a picture showing the tiny huts of the village and some smiling residents.
"The village was only discovered around fifty years ago…despite the development in the rainforests of Indonesia and Malaysia, this area was considered to remote to access, so was left alone. It is still one of the most isolated places in the world." Alan nodded, the descriptions of the mass of trees surrounding the village and the distance from nearby towns from Scott at mobile control had told of that isolation. Alan had been slightly unnerved by this. It was 2065; there were very few places that man had not explored, especially with technology allowing travel to those areas cut off by modern infrastructure. How had this village managed to remain hidden?
"My father lived here…" she said. "He used to tell me stories about their traditions. What life was like, how they lived while cut off from the rest of the world. They used traditional medicines, they taught skills to survive in the forest rather than algebra and science."
"It sounds…I don't know…unreal!" Tin Tin smiled softly, her eyes returning to the page in front of them.
"My father says that when the Professors arrived in the village, they were shocked. No one had expected to find a village tucked away in the hills of the rainforest. But there they were. They taught the locals English. They helped them develop a small hydro-electric turbine to generate electricity. They helped those in the village, but they disappeared…"
Alan had been smiling as Tin Tin told him a story that could have been from centuries before, explorers travelling the world to discover new lands, people and cultures. When she mentioned the disappearances, his face fell. It was too similar to the Tracy family's current nightmare; people helping this village and suddenly, inexplicably, disappearing into the depths of the rainforest.
"They were never found…" Tin Tin said slowly, her dark eyes shimmering as Alan let his breath out in a long sigh, placing his head in his hands.
"My father has spoken about his home with me. There is a curse Alan and it takes men from their families, from their loved ones…"
"What?" Alan asked, lifting his head, glaring almost accusingly at Tin Tin.
"Father talks of a demon that haunts the village…it would explain why Scott and Virgil just disappeared…" Tin Tin leaned forward, speaking quickly.
"It's a story Tin Tin. It's not real!" Alan yelled. Tin Tin visibly flinched at Alan's harsh tone, her eyes widening. She knew, however, that Alan was prone to outbursts during moments of extreme stress and chose to respond as calmly as possible.
"He knows this place Alan..." Tin Tin spoke softly, reaching out to touch Alan's hand, bring him back to her and allow her to help him deal with the worry of losing his older brothers. Alan snatched his hand away, getting to his feet and walking one lap around the kitchen, trying to gather his thoughts. Instead, he turned on Tin Tin, his eyes bright with tears of worry as he expressed the horrific facts that everyone was so keen to avoid.
"You want to talk about some kinda airy fairy nonsense...a curse that takes men? It's bullcrap Tin Tin!" Tin Tin watched his face fall, eyes clouding with doubt.
"I mean…Scott and Virgil might not even be alive right now…" Tin Tin got to her feet, moving towards Alan and wrapping her arms around his middle, pulling him close to offer some sort of comfort.
"You can't lose hope Alan," she whispered as Alan relented, his head tucking under her chin.
"You didn't hear what I did…gunshots Tin Tin…" His voice was soft, close to breaking and Tin Tin held him closer, burying her nose in his soft blonde curls.
"We can't lose hope," she repeated softly.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The tiny staircase was precariously navigated by Jack and Ethan. A week of meandering up and down the rickety staircase had not made them any more confident in its stability. Their host, Kiri, was opening rusted pots of paint, admiring the colour with a smile. When he saw the two men arriving in the main bar, he placed down the paintbrushes, instead lighting the small gas stove and preparing a pot of morning coffee.
"Morning Kiri," Ethan said pleasantly, pointing towards the tins. "Thinking of a change?" Kiri placed two battered metal mugs on the counter and nodded.
"A fresh lick of paint," he smiled. "It is always good to keep the place looking nice." Jack glanced around. The café looked as though a lick of paint was long overdue. The walls were patchy, plaster and paint flaking off the walls. Large cracks had appeared as though the building had survived an earthquake, although Jack knew earthquakes were few in this part of the world.
"You might need some plaster as well to repair those," Jack commented offhand, pointing to some of the cracks along the top of the wall.
"Ah the walls? They were damaged during the bomb…" Kiri trailed off, looking at the two visitors. His expression was pained and he placed his paint brush down, taking off his apron and making his way to the front of the café.
"Kiri…wait," Jack pleaded. "Ethan and I…we know what happened here. We know about International Rescue." At this Kiri lifted his head and took a deep breath.
"People don't like to talk about what has happened here…"
"Tell me about it," Jack said with a smile. "When we first arrived here, some guys told me that the buildings collapsed because of monsoon rains." Kiri half smiled, but it was clear he felt very uneasy talking about the recent events. He waited until a group of children, kicking a soccer ball had bundled past the doorway in a mass of laughter and squeals before speaking again.
"They came to help us. They did help us, they saved many, helped clear up the mess…and two vanish in the forest."
"Do you know who took them? Where they might be?" Ethan asked him.
"The demon that haunts our forest takes many men. He has taken them, stolen their bodies and will take their souls."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The appointment at the CIA, Foreign Intelligence Office had been arranged with some from Sir Jeremy. He had some friends in high places and some friends who owed him a favour. The interview room was dark and, to another agent, might have been intimidating, but Penny had faced far tougher situations. The Mr. Anderson who had agreed to meet with her, entered the room and took his place across the shiny table, resting his cool gaze on Penelope.
"So, what can I do for you?" he drawled, after offering her coffee, which she declined. She did accept the slightly soft biscuit, however.
"We have been alerted to terrorist activity within Malaysia, in villages close to the border with Indonesia, where some of our nationals working as aid workers have been placed at risk. There seems to be a pattern to these attacks and we at MI6 feel that there could be a growing terrorist network within the area." Mr. Anderson slurped his coffee with a half smile.
"You Brits are late to this one," he commented. "This isn't a new network or group. There has been a terrorist group that we have monitored in this area for some years now."
"For how long have you monitored this terrorist group?" Lady Penelope fixed the greying man with a piercing glare.
"This is something that cannot be disclosed without full permissions..." He gave her a false smile of apology.
"My government has sent me here with the strictest instructions," Penelope continued calmly. "There is a significant threat to our aid workers and military in the region. We need any intelligence that you have to be disclosed to us."
"Lady Penelope..."
"Perhaps Sir Jeremy did not make it clear to you the level of threat we in British Intelligence believe this group to have. Notably suggestions of attacks taking place in our own countries. Now, Mr. Anderson, our agencies have always been on the best of terms, so please, what can you tell me about this group?"
XXXXXXXXXXXX
The mosquito bites on Scott's arms were beginning to itch, but he knew better than to scratch at them and risk open wounds and infection. Virgil had given him far too much gory information about the effects of this to put him off for a lifetime. Scott let his head roll back, leaning against the mud wall behind him as he watched Virgil sleeping. He seemed almost peaceful and was reluctant to disturb him. He felt dreadful though, as though he had the flu, but the symptoms were far more severe.
He wiped at his forehead with his arm, knowing that while they were in very humid conditions, his temperature had increased over the past few days. He'd put the aching in his bones and muscles down to the battering he and Virgil had endured after their attempted escape. He'd been sick, twice, following the beating, but he'd put that down to nerves and worry.
As Scott watched Virgil sighing softly in his sleep, he closed his own eyes, knowing that things were about to get far worse for them.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
As Penelope got into the Rolls Royce, she took out her earpiece. John had suggested any calls made on mobile phones could easily be traced and Penny was better to have the benefit of the secure network their earpieces provided.
"I've had some success Jeff," she sighed. "It seems that the American government have been watching this area and the attacks very carefully. This is not an isolated kidnapping incident."
"What did they tell you?"
"Previous abductions have involved journalists, aid workers and, in one case, an embassy representative."
"So what do this group want? Why Scott and Virgil? Why International Rescue?"
"That I don't know Jeff. I couldn't ask anything specific to International Rescue for fear of exposing my links to you."
"I understand Penny," Jeff replied. "Thank you." Penelope removed the earpiece, terminating her link with the Island base. She opened her handbag and pulled out a packet of French cigarettes. She had given up the habit and had been smoke free for a number of years.
But what she hadn't told Jeff was the descriptions of the fate of the abducted workers. The tortures, the torment, the conditions.
Their executions.
She'd fought an onslaught of emotions as Mr. Anderson had spoken those words to her.
As she opened the cigarettes, her fingers brushed across a piece of tattered paper, a smear of cerise pink across it with the words 'This is your colour Penny' in Virgil's elegant scrawl. A reminder of the days of deciding a colour for her Rolls Royce where too much red wine had resulted in Virgil cheekily suggesting the dazzling pink she was now so fond of.
Her stomach lurched.
"Parker, stop the car please." Her sudden request was quickly acknowledged and Penelope demurely opened the door and made her way to the roadside, emptying her pitiful Viennese biscuit into the shrubs. Gloved hands smoothed her blonde bob before she turned to Parker, who handed her a bottle of water with a sad smile.
"Thank you Parker."
