Whumptober Day 18: "Now Smile At The Camera"

'Time to call your father, Scott.'

He froze. It couldn't be him again, could it?

The man pulled out an old-fashioned cell phone and held it out. Scott shifted uncomfortably.

'Now smile at the camera, Scott, let's send your Daddy a letter letting him know what's going on.'

While he didn't want his father to see him like that, Scott was aware that as he was currently, he'd need help to get free.

Jeff stretched and yawned. It had been a long day, full of frustrating complications on the business front, but all quiet on the International Rescue front, for which he was extremely thankful.

Scott's stint at Tracy Industries had gone without a hitch, Jeff had watched the press coverage of the new aircraft with growing pride in his son's abilities. It had been Scott's baby from inception to completion, and to see it being well received had made him very happy.

That was almost 20 hours ago, and he hadn't heard from Scott yet. While his son deserved the day off after all his hard work, it was very unlike Scott not to check in before retiring for the night, and even more unlikely that he had stayed out all night. But Jeff had to remind himself sometimes that his eldest wasn't a teen anymore, none of them were, and he forced himself to relax.

The New York office would be closing soon, and with that Jeff could afford to relax even more. He smiled warmly at Tin-Tin as she bought him a coffee, and sat back to enjoy it, a slightly guilty pleasure as his Mom was visiting friends in Kansas.

The sudden beeping of the comms caught him off-guard. Hitting the switch, he was surprised to see his New York PA on the line, looking worried.

'Anne, what's the matter?'

'Oh, Mr Tracy! I – I didn't mean to!'

Jeff frowned. Ann never called him Mr Tracy, not after all these years, and she sounded flustered.

'What is it, Ann?

'This – this came by courier.'

She tilted the screen so Jeff could see the picture on her desk. It was a picture of Scott. Seated on a floor, hands cuffed just above his head and gagged with a scarf.

His heart froze. He'd seen that before, seen Scott like that before, years ago now. 15 years to be precise. Only, last time he'd seen Scott like that the scarf had been around his son's neck.

How? How could that man be out? He'd tortured his middle son, held him captive for seven days and then used him as a human shield to try to escape. He'd badly beaten Scott.

There was writing on the bottom of the photo. 'Be online at 3pm EST.' That would be in another 22 hours. Plenty of time for him to get to New York and get ready.

He said some kind words to Ann and signed off, immediately hitting the alarm. John appeared on screen and his other boys came rushing into the room. He held his hand up to silence them.

'John, find out when Cowlishaw was released from prison.'

He may have been talking to John, but Jeff's eyes were fixed firmly on Virgil, and he didn't miss the way his skin paled, or the way his knees buckled slightly. Fortunately Gordon was right there, catching him and helping him back onto a chair.

'Dad?'

'Yeah, John?'

'He hasn't been released. He's still in jail.'

Jeff stared open-mouthed.

If Cowlishaw was still in jail, then who had his son?