Before I let you read this chapter, I want to thank everyone who's
reviewed. Your guys' comments are worth their weight in gold to any writer
and I'm so pleased you like it. I hope you'll continue giving feedback,
because I've finished writing this story so there's no reason why I'd leave
you hanging for more than a few days.
Oh, one other thing. If you would go and see my friend Sam's Thunderbirds fanlisting and join it, it would really make her day. You don't have to have a website, you can even put the link in your bio on here if you want. The URL is http://darkblu.net/tb. Thanks so much from the both of us! :)
Angelina
********************
The costume party was still in full swing well after midnight. The Tracy boys were fighting back yawns as they collapsed around the table after another round of dancing with Tin-Tin and Lady Penelope, who had appeared a few hours after the masquerade had started.
Penelope adjusted the crown on her head, having come to the event dressed as the queen. None of the Tracy's doubted the authenticity of the tiara sitting on her perfectly manicured blonde hair. Parker hadn't shed his brown uniform for a costume but claimed he had planned to come as butler.
Checking her watch, Lady Penelope waved to Parker, who was deep in conversation with one of the waiters about different types of tea. He was at her side before she could even stand up.
"I think it's time to turn in, Parker." She said commandingly, a hint of tiredness edging her voice.
"Yes, m'lady." He answered, assisting her with the grand coat she had propped on the back of her chair.
Scott, Virgil and Gordon glanced around the table and noticed the two empty chairs beside their father.
"Where's John and Tin-Tin?" Scott asked, glancing up to see if they were still on the dance floor.
"John went up to his room after that last dance because he was still feeling his space legs," said Jeff with a smile. "And Tin-Tin went out for some fresh air at least twenty minutes ago."
"Do you think she's okay?" Gordon wondered.
"Maybe she went to check on Kyrano."
"If she's smart, she'll be sleeping," said Virgil.
"No one's keeping you here, Virgil," protested Jeff.
He yawned. "I know, but I don't want to miss any of the action."
"Action? What action? This party died half an hour ago."
"So how come you're still here, Gordon?" Virgil snapped tiredly.
Gordon glared at him across the table. "Because I'm like you. I don't want to go to bed early if I can help it."
"You sound like a kid who's up past his bed time."
"Shut up, Scott, I'm on vacation."
"Hey you three, hush. You sound like bickering children." Jeff scolded lightly.
They mumbled apologies and the boys minds returned to the predicament of Tin-Tin's location. "Where do you think Tin-Tin went?" Scott asked after a minute, folding and re-folding his napkin on the table.
Gordon shrugged and leaned back in his chair, then sat straight up again. "You want us to go look for her, don't you?"
"It might be a decent idea."
"Then let's go or we won't hear the end of it from you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Scott asked coldly.
"Whatever you want. Come on, Virg." Gordon pushed back his chair and stood, waiting for his two brothers to do the same.
They headed out into the cool night air. Morning air, Virgil told himself as he glanced at his watch under one of the bright hotel lights. Two thirty. Who in their right mind would be outside at this time of night?
The three wandered around aimlessly until they were satisfied no one except them was outside the hotel. They checked every nook and cranny around the pools and on the deck of the restaurant, which was raised a few feet off the ground. Neither Tin-Tin nor John was anywhere to be seen.
"Where do you think they could be?" Gordon asked.
"The beach?" Virgil suggested after they checked both of their rooms with no answer.
"Why would they be on the beach?"
Gordon made kissing noises and Virgil shook his head. "We know Tin-Tin wouldn't do that to Alan, and we know John wouldn't do that to Alan either."
"I know; it was just a suggestion." Gordon shrugged in defeat. "But we should check the lower beach anyway, don't you think?"
"Sure, I guess. It's probably the only place we haven't looked on this whole property. It couldn't hurt," Scott said.
The boys walked carefully down the slippery stairs to the sand. The shadows under the cliff were eerie looking and they could easily imagine anything from yellow monsters to the Hood jumping out from the crevices to attack them.
"There's nobody down here, guys." Scott said after a moment of surveying the dark beach. "Only logs and stuff."
"Where could they have got to, then?"
"I don't know, Virg, but I hope they're all right. It's not like either of them to go anyplace without letting someone know." Gordon replied.
"They'll turn up eventually. Let's hit the hay. I'm whipped." Scott started for the stairs and stumbled over a log. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the sand staring up into the amused faces of Gordon and Virgil. They pulled him to his feet and he kicked the log angrily. Scott hated being made to look like a fool.
All three young men jumped back as the log moaned loudly. They stared at each other and then turned over what they had thought was a long chunk of wood washed up on the beach.
Tin-Tin's face was an endless rainbow of bruises, one of her eyes swelled shut and the other closed. Her hair was matted against her head, filled with seawater, sand and grit. One leg of the International Rescue uniform she wore had a huge rip up the side, in which the boys could clearly make out welts forming on her skin beneath the material. Her blue shirt wasn't in much better condition.
"Tin-Tin!" Scott, Gordon and Virgil cried in unison, shocked beyond words at the condition of their friend. "What happened?" Scott asked, brushing her hair back from her puffy eye.
She groaned in response and opened her good eye to stare up at them. "I don't. . .don't remember," Tin-Tin said weakly, her cut lip cracking open again and blood spreading over her mouth and chin.
Scott, who had the napkin from the table in his pocket, began gently wiping it up so she didn't choke on it, should it pass between her lips. It was the most blood he'd ever seen come from such a tiny cut. Once that was taken care of, he dabbed at the perspiration dotting Tin-Tin's forehead.
She looked up at him with an expression he could vaguely read as grateful and he smiled encouragement. "Where's John?" Scott asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"J-J-John. . ." Tin-Tin stammered. "John is. . ." She tried to sit up but her head throbbed painfully and she lay back down.
"John is where?" Virgil asked softly.
"John is. . ." Tin-Tin repeated, her mind spinning. She could barely remember anything that had happened in the last few hours. Scott helped her to sit up, hoping that would help clear her brain, and she gasped, thinking. "John is. . .there." She raised her arm as much as she could before one of the gashes began to hurt.
Virgil and Gordon crawled across the sand to another form they had thought was a long, thin log. In the faint glow from Virgil's penlight, which he'd put in his smock when he'd changed into his costume, they identified the beaten up blond features of their brother. He was lying straight out on the sand, his uniform ripped to shreds, exposing marked flesh similar to Tin- Tin's.
Virgil felt tears come to his eyes as he examined John's marred body with his penlight. Who would do such a thing? His older brother looked like he'd been to hell and back. He looked up at Gordon, who was holding John's head in his lap and brushing the hair back off his forehead, his attention on the large cut that ran from his eye to his chin and part way down his neck. He met Virgil's gaze and the middle Tracy brother was sure his own eyes must hold the same grief Gordon's did.
"How is he?" Scott asked, coming up beside them. He held a passed out Tin- Tin carefully in his arms and glanced down at John.
"He's not good. I can't get him to come around either." Gordon raised his head with a sigh. "He seems to be in a worse state than Tin-Tin, and she's pretty bad."
The sound of ripping material startled them out of their conversation as they saw Virgil pull off half of John's pant leg and inspect a long gash that went from his knee to below the line of his sock.
"What's that, Virg?"
"Whoever went after them whipped them. And beat them," he added as an after thought, tracing a purple bruise with the end of his light. He saw small white welts on John's leg and leaned closer to peer at them. "What are these marks?"
Gordon dropped John's head lightly back into the sand and came over to look. "I don't know. I haven't seen anything like that before." He looked over his shoulder at Scott. "Does Tin-Tin have them?"
Scott, using as much of one hand as he could, pushed back the sleeve of Tin- Tin's blue shirt. Sure enough, identical marks were running in random places up and down her skin. He nodded to Gordon and put the arm back down. Only then did he notice the holes in what remained of her sleeve. They were right above where the welts on her flesh were. He pointed this out to Virgil.
"It looks like they've been poked with something. It must have been sharp, to make holes like that."
"What do you think happened?"
"Well, simply poking wouldn't leave marks like those. Do you think they were burned?"
"Burned?" Asked Gordon.
Virgil nodded. "I mean, do you think the end of a poker, like one for a fireplace, was heated and then put to their skin to inflict pain?"
Scott and Gordon looked at him in shock. They couldn't imagine anyone doing that to another human being, let alone their friend and brother.
"It's just an idea." Virgil shrank back, afraid he may have angered them, and went back to inspecting some of John's worst cuts. After a moment, he turned his attention back to Gordon and Scott. "Will you help me carry him, Gordon? I doubt I can do it myself."
His brother took John's arms as carefully as he could, bracing the older man against him as he made for the stairs. Virgil took his legs as they started their ascent, being careful not to slip on the damp wood.
"I can't believe anyone would do this." Scott said, straining against Tin- Tin's weight as they continued their climb. She wasn't heavy to him, but there were a lot of stairs heading almost straight up.
Virgil agreed grimly. "I can't either Scott."
+++
Virgil looked down at John, who was lying rigidly in the middle of his double bed. His room had been the closest and they'd brought the two victims inside, laying them down on Virgil's warm comforter, hoping they'd soon wake up. Tin-Tin, in a less solid position beside him, was as pale as milk, the only colour on her face the reds, purples, blues and blacks of her bruises.
He sighed, his mind still refusing to believe someone would do something like they had to John and Tin-Tin. Virgil rubbed his aching head, throbbing dully from the start of a headache. It was after four in the morning and he hadn't gotten any sleep. Scott was out cold on his carpeted floor in such a deep slumber Virgil didn't think anything could wake him. Gordon was curled up in a ball in the overstuffed chair to his right and hadn't moved since falling asleep a little less than an hour ago.
Not wanting to leave John and Tin-Tin alone in case they woke up but desperately needing something cool to soothe his parched throat, Virgil stood up on cramped legs and opened the door as quietly as possible. He stumbled down the hall, his fatigue finally hitting him like an avalanche. Coming to the drink machine beside the elevators, he fished in his pocket for some change and bought himself a tall bottle of water. Without waiting to get back to his room, he pulled off the top and gulped down as much as he could.
He leaned against the wall and finished off the bottle with one more large swallow. Virgil threw it into the garbage basket and made his way back to his room.
When he got there, he noticed Tin-Tin had changed her position and was now on her side. She opened her eye when he came in, her other one still swollen closed.
"How are you doing?" Virgil whispered, crouching down beside her so they were face to face.
"Okay," she whispered back. Tin-Tin let out a yawn and her lip cracked open again. Virgil ran into the bathroom and got a towel, then helped her apply pressure to the cut to keep it from bleeding. "Thank you," she murmured when it showed signs of stopping.
"What happened to you?"
"I met John in the. . .elevator," Tin-Tin began softly. Virgil leaned closer to hear her. "He was going to bed and I was too." She paused for a minute, speaking obviously being a strain to her tired body. "We got out. . .and someone jumped him." She shut her good eye, as if picturing the scene again in her mind. "I tried to help but they. . .got me and pulled me back."
"How many were there?"
"Th-three."
"Did you see what they looked like?"
"No. . .they were wearing masks. Ski masks, black ones." She answered.
"And they took you down to the beach?" Virgil asked.
"They took us. . .took us somewhere, but not to the beach. No, somewhere. . .else." Tin-Tin reached up painfully and pushed back some of her dirty black hair. Virgil immediately made her put her hand down and did it for her.
"Where, Tin-Tin? Do you remember?"
"To. . .to a shed. With paddles and life jackets. . .by the ocean. I could smell the salt."
"And they beat you?"
She nodded her head slightly.
"What did they use?" Virgil knew he was putting a lot of pressure on her, considering her physical state, but he had to know if he wanted to do anything.
"Whips. . .long whips," she shivered at the memory. Virgil took off his smock, which he had yet to change out of, and put it around her to keep her warm. "And they punched us. They hit John. They hit him. . .so hard," Tin- Tin whimpered quietly. "Pokers, with fire on the end. They burned us, Virgil. It hurt so much."
"Shhh," He breathed. Virgil could see she was getting worked up over this. "Go back to sleep, okay?"
She nodded faintly and closed her eye again, letting out a strangled sigh of tiredness. He watched her for a minute until he was satisfied she had drifted off, then resumed his post in the armchair near the end of the bed to watch for when she woke up again.
Oh, one other thing. If you would go and see my friend Sam's Thunderbirds fanlisting and join it, it would really make her day. You don't have to have a website, you can even put the link in your bio on here if you want. The URL is http://darkblu.net/tb. Thanks so much from the both of us! :)
Angelina
********************
The costume party was still in full swing well after midnight. The Tracy boys were fighting back yawns as they collapsed around the table after another round of dancing with Tin-Tin and Lady Penelope, who had appeared a few hours after the masquerade had started.
Penelope adjusted the crown on her head, having come to the event dressed as the queen. None of the Tracy's doubted the authenticity of the tiara sitting on her perfectly manicured blonde hair. Parker hadn't shed his brown uniform for a costume but claimed he had planned to come as butler.
Checking her watch, Lady Penelope waved to Parker, who was deep in conversation with one of the waiters about different types of tea. He was at her side before she could even stand up.
"I think it's time to turn in, Parker." She said commandingly, a hint of tiredness edging her voice.
"Yes, m'lady." He answered, assisting her with the grand coat she had propped on the back of her chair.
Scott, Virgil and Gordon glanced around the table and noticed the two empty chairs beside their father.
"Where's John and Tin-Tin?" Scott asked, glancing up to see if they were still on the dance floor.
"John went up to his room after that last dance because he was still feeling his space legs," said Jeff with a smile. "And Tin-Tin went out for some fresh air at least twenty minutes ago."
"Do you think she's okay?" Gordon wondered.
"Maybe she went to check on Kyrano."
"If she's smart, she'll be sleeping," said Virgil.
"No one's keeping you here, Virgil," protested Jeff.
He yawned. "I know, but I don't want to miss any of the action."
"Action? What action? This party died half an hour ago."
"So how come you're still here, Gordon?" Virgil snapped tiredly.
Gordon glared at him across the table. "Because I'm like you. I don't want to go to bed early if I can help it."
"You sound like a kid who's up past his bed time."
"Shut up, Scott, I'm on vacation."
"Hey you three, hush. You sound like bickering children." Jeff scolded lightly.
They mumbled apologies and the boys minds returned to the predicament of Tin-Tin's location. "Where do you think Tin-Tin went?" Scott asked after a minute, folding and re-folding his napkin on the table.
Gordon shrugged and leaned back in his chair, then sat straight up again. "You want us to go look for her, don't you?"
"It might be a decent idea."
"Then let's go or we won't hear the end of it from you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Scott asked coldly.
"Whatever you want. Come on, Virg." Gordon pushed back his chair and stood, waiting for his two brothers to do the same.
They headed out into the cool night air. Morning air, Virgil told himself as he glanced at his watch under one of the bright hotel lights. Two thirty. Who in their right mind would be outside at this time of night?
The three wandered around aimlessly until they were satisfied no one except them was outside the hotel. They checked every nook and cranny around the pools and on the deck of the restaurant, which was raised a few feet off the ground. Neither Tin-Tin nor John was anywhere to be seen.
"Where do you think they could be?" Gordon asked.
"The beach?" Virgil suggested after they checked both of their rooms with no answer.
"Why would they be on the beach?"
Gordon made kissing noises and Virgil shook his head. "We know Tin-Tin wouldn't do that to Alan, and we know John wouldn't do that to Alan either."
"I know; it was just a suggestion." Gordon shrugged in defeat. "But we should check the lower beach anyway, don't you think?"
"Sure, I guess. It's probably the only place we haven't looked on this whole property. It couldn't hurt," Scott said.
The boys walked carefully down the slippery stairs to the sand. The shadows under the cliff were eerie looking and they could easily imagine anything from yellow monsters to the Hood jumping out from the crevices to attack them.
"There's nobody down here, guys." Scott said after a moment of surveying the dark beach. "Only logs and stuff."
"Where could they have got to, then?"
"I don't know, Virg, but I hope they're all right. It's not like either of them to go anyplace without letting someone know." Gordon replied.
"They'll turn up eventually. Let's hit the hay. I'm whipped." Scott started for the stairs and stumbled over a log. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the sand staring up into the amused faces of Gordon and Virgil. They pulled him to his feet and he kicked the log angrily. Scott hated being made to look like a fool.
All three young men jumped back as the log moaned loudly. They stared at each other and then turned over what they had thought was a long chunk of wood washed up on the beach.
Tin-Tin's face was an endless rainbow of bruises, one of her eyes swelled shut and the other closed. Her hair was matted against her head, filled with seawater, sand and grit. One leg of the International Rescue uniform she wore had a huge rip up the side, in which the boys could clearly make out welts forming on her skin beneath the material. Her blue shirt wasn't in much better condition.
"Tin-Tin!" Scott, Gordon and Virgil cried in unison, shocked beyond words at the condition of their friend. "What happened?" Scott asked, brushing her hair back from her puffy eye.
She groaned in response and opened her good eye to stare up at them. "I don't. . .don't remember," Tin-Tin said weakly, her cut lip cracking open again and blood spreading over her mouth and chin.
Scott, who had the napkin from the table in his pocket, began gently wiping it up so she didn't choke on it, should it pass between her lips. It was the most blood he'd ever seen come from such a tiny cut. Once that was taken care of, he dabbed at the perspiration dotting Tin-Tin's forehead.
She looked up at him with an expression he could vaguely read as grateful and he smiled encouragement. "Where's John?" Scott asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"J-J-John. . ." Tin-Tin stammered. "John is. . ." She tried to sit up but her head throbbed painfully and she lay back down.
"John is where?" Virgil asked softly.
"John is. . ." Tin-Tin repeated, her mind spinning. She could barely remember anything that had happened in the last few hours. Scott helped her to sit up, hoping that would help clear her brain, and she gasped, thinking. "John is. . .there." She raised her arm as much as she could before one of the gashes began to hurt.
Virgil and Gordon crawled across the sand to another form they had thought was a long, thin log. In the faint glow from Virgil's penlight, which he'd put in his smock when he'd changed into his costume, they identified the beaten up blond features of their brother. He was lying straight out on the sand, his uniform ripped to shreds, exposing marked flesh similar to Tin- Tin's.
Virgil felt tears come to his eyes as he examined John's marred body with his penlight. Who would do such a thing? His older brother looked like he'd been to hell and back. He looked up at Gordon, who was holding John's head in his lap and brushing the hair back off his forehead, his attention on the large cut that ran from his eye to his chin and part way down his neck. He met Virgil's gaze and the middle Tracy brother was sure his own eyes must hold the same grief Gordon's did.
"How is he?" Scott asked, coming up beside them. He held a passed out Tin- Tin carefully in his arms and glanced down at John.
"He's not good. I can't get him to come around either." Gordon raised his head with a sigh. "He seems to be in a worse state than Tin-Tin, and she's pretty bad."
The sound of ripping material startled them out of their conversation as they saw Virgil pull off half of John's pant leg and inspect a long gash that went from his knee to below the line of his sock.
"What's that, Virg?"
"Whoever went after them whipped them. And beat them," he added as an after thought, tracing a purple bruise with the end of his light. He saw small white welts on John's leg and leaned closer to peer at them. "What are these marks?"
Gordon dropped John's head lightly back into the sand and came over to look. "I don't know. I haven't seen anything like that before." He looked over his shoulder at Scott. "Does Tin-Tin have them?"
Scott, using as much of one hand as he could, pushed back the sleeve of Tin- Tin's blue shirt. Sure enough, identical marks were running in random places up and down her skin. He nodded to Gordon and put the arm back down. Only then did he notice the holes in what remained of her sleeve. They were right above where the welts on her flesh were. He pointed this out to Virgil.
"It looks like they've been poked with something. It must have been sharp, to make holes like that."
"What do you think happened?"
"Well, simply poking wouldn't leave marks like those. Do you think they were burned?"
"Burned?" Asked Gordon.
Virgil nodded. "I mean, do you think the end of a poker, like one for a fireplace, was heated and then put to their skin to inflict pain?"
Scott and Gordon looked at him in shock. They couldn't imagine anyone doing that to another human being, let alone their friend and brother.
"It's just an idea." Virgil shrank back, afraid he may have angered them, and went back to inspecting some of John's worst cuts. After a moment, he turned his attention back to Gordon and Scott. "Will you help me carry him, Gordon? I doubt I can do it myself."
His brother took John's arms as carefully as he could, bracing the older man against him as he made for the stairs. Virgil took his legs as they started their ascent, being careful not to slip on the damp wood.
"I can't believe anyone would do this." Scott said, straining against Tin- Tin's weight as they continued their climb. She wasn't heavy to him, but there were a lot of stairs heading almost straight up.
Virgil agreed grimly. "I can't either Scott."
+++
Virgil looked down at John, who was lying rigidly in the middle of his double bed. His room had been the closest and they'd brought the two victims inside, laying them down on Virgil's warm comforter, hoping they'd soon wake up. Tin-Tin, in a less solid position beside him, was as pale as milk, the only colour on her face the reds, purples, blues and blacks of her bruises.
He sighed, his mind still refusing to believe someone would do something like they had to John and Tin-Tin. Virgil rubbed his aching head, throbbing dully from the start of a headache. It was after four in the morning and he hadn't gotten any sleep. Scott was out cold on his carpeted floor in such a deep slumber Virgil didn't think anything could wake him. Gordon was curled up in a ball in the overstuffed chair to his right and hadn't moved since falling asleep a little less than an hour ago.
Not wanting to leave John and Tin-Tin alone in case they woke up but desperately needing something cool to soothe his parched throat, Virgil stood up on cramped legs and opened the door as quietly as possible. He stumbled down the hall, his fatigue finally hitting him like an avalanche. Coming to the drink machine beside the elevators, he fished in his pocket for some change and bought himself a tall bottle of water. Without waiting to get back to his room, he pulled off the top and gulped down as much as he could.
He leaned against the wall and finished off the bottle with one more large swallow. Virgil threw it into the garbage basket and made his way back to his room.
When he got there, he noticed Tin-Tin had changed her position and was now on her side. She opened her eye when he came in, her other one still swollen closed.
"How are you doing?" Virgil whispered, crouching down beside her so they were face to face.
"Okay," she whispered back. Tin-Tin let out a yawn and her lip cracked open again. Virgil ran into the bathroom and got a towel, then helped her apply pressure to the cut to keep it from bleeding. "Thank you," she murmured when it showed signs of stopping.
"What happened to you?"
"I met John in the. . .elevator," Tin-Tin began softly. Virgil leaned closer to hear her. "He was going to bed and I was too." She paused for a minute, speaking obviously being a strain to her tired body. "We got out. . .and someone jumped him." She shut her good eye, as if picturing the scene again in her mind. "I tried to help but they. . .got me and pulled me back."
"How many were there?"
"Th-three."
"Did you see what they looked like?"
"No. . .they were wearing masks. Ski masks, black ones." She answered.
"And they took you down to the beach?" Virgil asked.
"They took us. . .took us somewhere, but not to the beach. No, somewhere. . .else." Tin-Tin reached up painfully and pushed back some of her dirty black hair. Virgil immediately made her put her hand down and did it for her.
"Where, Tin-Tin? Do you remember?"
"To. . .to a shed. With paddles and life jackets. . .by the ocean. I could smell the salt."
"And they beat you?"
She nodded her head slightly.
"What did they use?" Virgil knew he was putting a lot of pressure on her, considering her physical state, but he had to know if he wanted to do anything.
"Whips. . .long whips," she shivered at the memory. Virgil took off his smock, which he had yet to change out of, and put it around her to keep her warm. "And they punched us. They hit John. They hit him. . .so hard," Tin- Tin whimpered quietly. "Pokers, with fire on the end. They burned us, Virgil. It hurt so much."
"Shhh," He breathed. Virgil could see she was getting worked up over this. "Go back to sleep, okay?"
She nodded faintly and closed her eye again, letting out a strangled sigh of tiredness. He watched her for a minute until he was satisfied she had drifted off, then resumed his post in the armchair near the end of the bed to watch for when she woke up again.