Chapter 27.
Alan took in his surroundings with doe-like eyes.
He'd never been inside a prison before.
While the sight of some of the ferocious looking inmates might have caused any other teenager to soil themselves, Alan was content to sit and inquisitively study every small detail he could see, safe in the knowledge that he had two big brothers to protect him.
One of whom was shaking in his boots.
John had no idea if prisoner rights even existed in Rio. He was fairly certain that their freedom of speech would be upheld, however wasn't quite so sure about their entitlement to security and a fair trial. Rio's police were known to be some of the most corrupt and violent in the world.
As if the tattooed beefcake on reception who was leering unpleasantly at Alan didn't already scream that.
Scott, ever the brave one, snarled and stepped protectively in front of his baby brother when a ferocious looking bulldozer in the cell opposite theirs made eye-contact for a second too long. He hated to admit it, but within the walls of the prison they now found themselves in, the three of them stuck out like flies on a wedding cake.
For starters, they'd all been on the receiving ends of healthy dental investments and sported full mouths of perfectly straight teeth. Most of the other inmates were sorely lacking in the dentition department from what Scott could see.
Secondly, they were clean and neatly dressed. Again, most of the bodies Scott had the misfortune of being able to see were only clothed from the waist down.
Thirdly, they didn't smell like sweaty camels. Though Scott's aftershave was starting to wear thin and John's own had worn off about an hour ago, they still smelt clean. The stench of unwashed clothes and bodies hanging in the air beyond their cell was enough to make even a skunk gag.
Fourthly, they obviously had money. Consistent with international prison protocol, the prison staff had stripped brothers one, three, and five of all their possessions when they'd arrived. Expensive phones, credit cards, comm devices, and other bits of high-tech iR gadgetry had all been confiscated under the noses of the other inmates, no doubt planting the idea in their lice-infested heads that the new arrivals were no more than a trio of rich playboys.
"How are we going to get out of here?" Alan whispered, his eyes widening in shock when one of the patrolling guards shamelessly sniffed at his armpit.
"Virgil will come and pay the bail," Scott replied, glaring down another jailbird who was eyeballing Alan as if he were his next meal, "With any luck, he'll be here in the next hour."
"How much is the bail?" Alan asked, swinging his legs from the bed he was sat on.
"Eighty thousand Brazilian reals," John replied, surruptiously sliding behind Scott when a rather butch looking woman began shamelessly ogling him from behind her own set of bars.
"How much is that?" Alan asked.
"About fifteen thousand dollars," John answered, his expression transitioning to one of sheer horror when the woman winked and licked her lips, "Oh sweet mamaloosa…Scott, don't you dare leave me here."
Scott, who'd been locked in a staring contest with the hobo who looked to be calculating how many steaks he'd be able to carve off Alan, abruptly shifted his murderous scowl to John's new admirer. The woman blinked at the ferocity of Scott's glare, before leaning a heavily inked arm on the bars of her cell and smiling flirtatiously.
"I like 'em young and ginger," she cooed, blowing a kiss at John before winking suggestively, "Your friend can watch if he likes."
Scott was surprised to hear the woman speak English, but then realised with a quick visual sweep of the corridor that they were most likely in a prison for foreigners. That would go some way towards explaining the absurdly high bail price, and the distinct lack of Portuguese being spoken.
John meanwhile, was shamelessly trying to hide as much of himself behind Scott as his height would permit. Virgil had always joked that John bore an uncanny resemblance to a giraffe, courtesy of his long legs. Alan had to admit that his brother had a point. There was something very giraffe-esque about the way John slowly backed into the safety of Scott's shadow, his turquoise eyes glued to the face of his leering suitor.
Scott's eyes practically fell out of his head when one of the guards reached through the bars of their cell to stroke Alan's head, muttering in intrigue at the teenager's bright blond hair. The youngest sprang away in shock, his carefree demeaner vanishing as Scott planted himself in front of both his trembling brothers like a badass mother hen.
"Try that again, you asshole. I dare you."
-x-
"Man, I never thought I'd live to see this day!" Gordon chortled from the passenger seat of Thunderbird One, "Scotty, Johnny, and Allie, all wearing orange jumpsuits."
From the pilot's seat, Virgil groaned, "Remind me why I allowed you to tag along again?"
Gordon shrugged and fished a Celery Crunch Bar out of his pocket, letting the wrapper fall to the floor, "I needed to get away from Kayo. She's still not forgiven me for ditching her."
Virgil snorted as he tried to locate a landing zone, "I don't think I'd be quick to let you off the hook either. Still, your little gaffe means that I get to walk away with the bronze medal."
Gordon sneered and crossed his arms, "I thought you weren't interested in playing anymore? That your manly pride couldn't possibly take one more day of being 'subjected' to the girl's silly little experiment?"
Virgil allowed a cocky grin to infect his face, "Scott and Alan are in the slammer and relying on me to get them out. Coming in third to them in a petty dating competition suddenly doesn't seem so tragic."
Gordon threw back his head and laughed, choking on his Celery Crunch Bar in the process, "Gee, when you put it like that, I couldn't care less about whether I come last or not!"
"That's the spirit!" Virgil enthused, hovering Thunderbird One over a supermarket carpark, "Mind if I put you down here while I find a better place to land? I think the guys would appreciate knowing that we've arrived, but I can't get through to any of their phones or comms."
Gordon frowned as he freed himself from the shoulder restraints, "Should we be worried?"
"I don't think so," Virgil replied, gently lowering the silver rocket towards the ground, "They've probably been stripped off all their possessions. I somehow doubt they'll be getting them back as well. Police corruption is supposed to be rife here."
"Eh, horses for courses," Gordon responded breezily, checking his phone for messages before hopping out of the auxiliary hatch, "Ping me the coordinates for the jail and I'll go and introduce myself."
"Don't do anything stupid," Virgil warned, "I'm putting her down just a few blocks south. Shouldn't take me longer than fifteen minutes tops. Just go in and tell whoever's in charge that I'll be along shortly to settle the bail."
"F.A.B," Gordon waved a dismissive hand as his phone pinged with the prison's coordinates. The aquanaut broke into an enthusiastic jog as he darted off down a narrow alleyway, the prospect of seeing his brothers behind bars filling him with excitement.
"And John thought I was the one most likely to get arrested," Gordon snickered to himself. He rounded a corner and barely had time to adjust his stride before he stumbled over something soft and warm.
"Gyaaaah!" he shrieked and landed with a splat on the filthy cobbled ground, his left arm taking most of the impact, "Holy hell on a submarine!"
Grimacing through the pain that was radiating from his shoulder, Gordon heaved himself to his feet and brushed himself off before turning to glower at whatever had interrupted his journey.
A pair of sorrowful black eyes peered fearfully up at him from beneath a thick mop of dull yellow fur. Two floppy ears hung like sad Christmas ornaments either side of a face that was the dictionary definition of meek. A limp tail wagged timidly, the motion causing it's owner's bony ribcage to swing from side to side.
Gordon didn't think he'd ever seen a more pathetic sight in his life.
Well, apart from the time he'd deliberately shaken John's massive bottle of Cola, then watched gleefully when the middle brother had been blasted by the resultant eruption five minutes later.
"Hey, 'lil girl," Gordon cooed, crouching down onto his haunches and clicking his tongue, "What's your name?"
The dog shuffled closer and timidly sniffed his hand, her tail wags increasing in both vigour and frequency.
"You wanna come and help me rescue my brothers?" Gordon asked, gently caressing the canine's face once the initial fear of being bitten had passed.
Another tail wag, this time accompanied by a hand lick.
"I'm going to take that as a yes."
-x-
Scott took great pride in his bravery.
As the first responder for International Rescue, he was usually the one responsible for scouting out the severity of a rescue before calling in the necessary backup. An unwelcome by-product of this role, however, was that he sometimes witnessed things that kept him awake at night. People who were badly injured. People who couldn't be saved.
But he was still a brave soul. There could be no denying that in spite of his young age, Scott Tracy was in possession of both courage and inner strength that people twice as old as him had yet to acquire…
…courage and inner strength that crumbled when not Virgil, but Gordon pranced through the door of the prison, a stray mutt flitting about his heels.
"Hey, guys!" the aquanaut gave an exaggerated wave as one of the guards handed him a form to sign and another scanned him with a handheld metal detector, "Fancy seeing all of you here!"
John gave a cry of despair and buried his face in his hands. Alan felt compelled to do the same.
"Gordon? Where's Virgil?" Scott asked, the panic in his voice evident.
"Oh, he's on his way," Gordon replied, tossing the signed papers back at his escort and motioning politely for one of the guards to open the door for him and his new companion, "He sent me ahead to let you know that we're here."
"How did you know where we were?" Alan asked, scurrying to the front of the cell as soon as Gordon came within range, "We're not wearing any of our gear, and all of our devices were impounded as soon as we arrived."
Gordon snorted and idly gazed around the corridor, smiling brightly at several inmates who were already sizing him up, "Lady P watched the live broadcast of your little car chase and notified Virgil. Your driving made international headlines, Johnny. Kudos!"
John sighed and joined Alan and Scott at the front of the cell, "Any chance you could pay our bail and get us out of here? You don't seriously need Virgil's help with transferring money, do you? And where did that thing come from?"
John pointed down at Gordon's new four-legged friend, who was happily sniffing at what little she could reach of Scott's shoe.
Gordon shrugged and waved at a prisoner who was giving him the finger, "Dunno. She started following me while I was on my way over here. And her name is Celery, not 'thing'."
"Gee, I wonder where you got the inspiration for that," Alan drawled, his gaze travelling to the Celery Crunch Bar wrappers sticking out of Gordon's pocket.
"Well, keep her away from me," John warned, covering his face with his hands as his nose began to itch, "I'm allergic."
"Tell me something I don't know," Gordon sniped, "I'm afraid she's no hairless hamster, but this little lass has won my heart. She's awesome."
"And hairy," John added, swatting at the air and sneezing when Gordon seized a handful of Celery's fur and blew it in his direction.
"Gordon!" Scott snapped, his desire to wait for Virgil long dead and buried, "Bail. Pay. Now!"
"Alright, alright!" Gordon held up his hands in a placating gesture and turned towards the guards who'd been charged with supervising him, "Hang tight, Scotty. This will only take a minute."
With the confidence of a man who'd just won the lottery, Gordon waltzed up to the group of jailers. After a quick visual scan, he singled out the one that looked the tamest.
Or so he thought.
"Hey there," Gordon began, silently praying that the one he'd selected could understand English, "These guys are my brothers and I'm here to pay their bail. I've never had to do anything like this before, so if you could walk me through the process, that would be awesome."
The 'tame' guard that Gordon had picked eyed him up and down as if he'd seen him before. Gordon returned the favour, but drew a blank.
Tragically, the other guy didn't.
"You!" the man spat, brandishing an accusing finger, "You're the albino that tried to chat up my girlfriend at the beach last night!"
Gordon blinked as realisation hit him like a car with John at the wheel.
"Jose?" he peeped, gulping as memories of being forced to hide in Thunderbird Four came flooding back.
"At your service," Jose growled, motioning for his colleagues to surround Gordon, "Throw this one in as well. That makes four out of five if Kat Cavanaugh's most recent article is anything to go by."
Scott, John, and Alan could only watch in horrified disbelief as Gordon was tackled against the wall. Jose gave a hiss of triumph as he unlocked the cell door and roughly shoved the aquanaut in the direction of his brothers. Scott sprang into action the moment Gordon toppled forwards, reaching out an arm to catch him before he could splatter against the filthy floor.
John snarled and spat a few choice swear words in Jose's direction. The guard ignored the flying curses and seized Celery by the scruff of her neck, before reunlocking the door and launching her in the redhead's direction.
"Ah, no!" John hissed, absorbing the impact of the airborne dog before dropping her like a hot potato "Achoo! Ah! Ah! Achoo!"
"You'll pay for that!" Alan cried as Celery cowered behind Gordon's legs, "When our other brother gets here, he'll teach you a thing or two!"
Jose gave an icy smirk .
"Good. I can't wait to complete my Tracy collection."