Chapter Eleven: Escape
~~
Gordon was dismayed to hear a bolt unlocking before seeing the heavy wooden door squeal open, allowing him his first look at his captors. The first, the older-looking of the two, had a tall, muscular frame, with the tough, worn arms of a workman. The second was shorter and slightly thinner, but possessed the same tanned skin and scraggly brown hair as his accomplice. Both also had deep, dark eyes, like never-ending pools of chocolate, leading Gordon to guess that the two were related.
The larger and more dominating of the two walked up to him and began to babble in Italian, Gordon guessed from the frequent use of the letter 'o' in words. Looking blank for a moment, Gordon replied in the only foreign language he knew, saying though the mask, 'Je ne comprende pas.' Unfortunately, this was the only phrase he remembered from the bygone days of tedious French lessons with Madame Mielle.
The man looked at Gordon strangely for a moment, and then realised the problem, 'Ah, you American, you speak no Italian, ya?'
'I speak no Italian,' Gordon said, still muffled through the gag.
The man lowered the cloth, allowing Gordon to now speak clearly. 'You from International Rescue,' he said, saying the name of the organisation slowly to pronounce it properly. Gordon nodded, wondering what it was leading up to. 'Your boss pay big money to get you back,' he said, causing Gordon to wonder whether it was a statement or a question. Whatever way, he now knew for sure that he was being held for ransom.
'You answer me?' The man said threateningly, his short temper becoming ever shorter, and Gordon knew that it was a question.
'He probably would, but that doesn't mean I'll let him,' Gordon said defiantly.
'Leo, di che cosa sta parlando?' Giovanni said, asking what Gordon meant.
'Silenzio, Giovanni,' Leo snapped, sparing a glance for his brother.
Gordon was glad that the two kidnappers had used their names to talk to each other, as although it did not help his situation in anyway, it gave him a strange feeling of slight stability.
All feeling of stability was gone when Leo lifted Gordon up by the scruff of the neck, so that the two were at eye level, with barely a hairs breadth between their noses. 'Listen, American, I want the money, and I get what I want.' He threw Gordon, still attached the chair, angrily to the stone- cold floor, causing him to land with a crack as one of the legs of the old chair snapped. Gordon landed on the arm that was still sore from a few days ago, causing him yelp as he made contact. He shook his head to clear his vision and opened his eyes to see the two men leaving the room, Leo slamming the door behind him. 'Not if I can help it,' Gordon sneered, anger generated from the pain in his arm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alan was sitting alone in Thunderbird Five, wondering what to do with himself to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts away from Gordon and what could be happening to him. The time on Tracy Island was just after two in the afternoon, meaning that his brother had been missing for over a day. Apart from communicating with Italian police, to see if they had found anything, nothing so far had been done, and it was driving everyone, including Alan, up the wall.
'I wish I knew where he was,' Alan said to himself in a murmur, failing to distract himself.
His thoughts were interrupted when a beeping emitted from the control panel to his left. Of all the times to get an emergency call, Alan thought to himself as he said in a forced voice, 'This is International Rescue receiving your call, what's your emergency?'
'International Rescue, there is a man who needs your help. He has, erm, hair of copper, and I think you know him well,' the man snarled into the radio.
It took Alan two beats to realize what the man was talking about, and half that time to work out what to do. 'You've kidnapped my bro... buddy!' He said angrily as he flicked the switches to activate the new equipment that Brains had recently installed.
'He is quick, as they say,' the man said, chuckling with little humour at his attempt at the joke.
'What do you want?' Alan said, preparing to contact his father to allow him to listen to the conversation. He put through the call, making sure that no sound would come through to Thunderbird Five.
'First, I want to speak to your boss,' the Italian man said to him, heading straight for the top to make the arrangements.
Alan grimaced, wishing he could have kept the conversation going for longer. 'Give me a minute to contact him,' he said, muting the sounds travelling through to the kidnapper and answering his father.
'What was that, son?' Jeff asked, only hearing about the request to speak to the director of the organisation.
'Dad, there's a guy on the line who wants to talk to you,' Alan said, before adding in a dramatic voice, 'he's got Gordon.'
Several members of the room gasped, but Jeff didn't so much as flinch. He had suspected kidnapping as one of the two causes for Gordon's disappearance, (the other being amnesia,) and so was somewhat ready for whatever was about to be thrown at him.
'All right, son, put him through,' Jeff said, looking at those in the room before adding, 'I'll do the talking here.'
'Good day to you, sir,' the man greeted in his strong Italian accent.
'Good would not be used to describe my day, but thank you so much anyway,' Jeff said sarcastically. 'I understand you are currently looking after a member of our organisation.'
'You understand well,' Leo said, preparing to rattle off his speech, which he had learnt in English for the benefit of those he wished to negotiate with. 'I have some more things I wish for you to understand. Your friend will be returned to you in good health once I receive from you fifty thousand of your US dollars. You have twenty-four hours to deliver the money. I expect the money to be placed by the headstone reading Alfonso Pacelli, next to the large, how you say, albero della betulla.'
'Birch tree,' Alan filled in helpfully, his knowledge of the Italian language coming in useful at this time.
'Si, grazie, the birch tree in St Maria Church, by tomorrow, seven in evening, Italian time. You understand?'
'Perfetto,' Jeff replied.
'Quello รจ buono,' Leo said before ending the call.
'Dad, I got a fix on it. They were at grid reference 498J,769H,' Alan said, reading off the co-ordinates.
'Well done, son,' Jeff said, wondering what to do next. He, naturally, was going to send someone to where the call was traced, but the question was who. Would he risk sending all three of the boys, or risk the inevitable argument if sending just one? A decision had to be made soon, as time was of the essence; each second was another second of danger for Gordon.
'All right Virgil, launch Thunderbird Two, take Pod Two, and take Scott and John with you,' Jeff commanded.
'Father, Thunderbird One is far faster,' Scott said in objection.
'And Thunderbird Two has a better equipped sickbay,' Jeff said back.
Scott saw his point, realising that until they found Gordon, they would not know the extent of his injuries, if he had any. He merely nodded, tight- lipped, and joined John as he made his way towards the passenger elevator, which disappeared into the deep steel caverns below the island.
~~
After Leo cut the transmission, he turned to his brother and said, 'All right, get him and give him a knock on the head, just enough to knock him out, okay?'
Giovanni looked confused as he asked his brother, 'Why knock him out?'
'International Rescue has the equipment to detect where the call came from, and they'll probably come looking, but if he take him somewhere else, we'll be one step ahead of them, you see?'
'No, I don't see,' Giovanni said crossly, exasperated at never being able to keep up with his brother's plans. 'I thought we were looking after him, that's what you said, so why would we run away from him?'
'Idiot! We aren't caring for him, we're holding him for ransom!'
'Leonardo! Of all the things you've dragged me into since I could walk, of all the schemes, this is by far the worst, and I am going to do something I should have done long ago, and have nothing more to do with it!' He began to walk towards the door when he heard a sharp click behind him.
'You will do exactly as I say,' Leo sneered, the gun safely in his hand.
Giovanni nodded mutely, and walked towards the room where Gordon was being held captive. Leo, thinking he had done enough to persuade his spineless brother to stay with him, put the gun into his jacket pocket and began to load the radio into the waiting car outside.
Giovanni, though, had other ideas.
He rushed into the room with Gordon in it, his chair still laying sideways on the floor, and untied him, explaining in broken English, 'Hurry, or my brother kill us. Follow me.'
Gordon staggered slightly as he got up, still unsettled from the bump on his head. He followed Giovanni, who led him through the cellar door and outside into the cool Italian night. Gordon half wished he still had his heat-proof suit, which had apparently disappeared in between the time of the crash and his waking up in the basement, as although it was bulky it would have been considerably warmer.
'Now,' Giovanni said, heading over to the car as Leo returned inside the house. The engine was already running, saving vital seconds, so all the two had to do was clamber into the tinny car and go. Giovanni, the driver, looked in his rear view mirror as he sped down the dusty path, and saw his brother run out of the house and shout obscenities.
'Riduca!' Giovanni shouted, lowered his head as far as he could whilst still driving. Gordon, not understanding what was said, used his intuition and followed suit as bullets flew and ricocheted off the car. One caught the back windscreen and shattered it to a thousand pieces before the car turned a corner and escaped from the line of fire.
'That was close,' Gordon said, breathing a sigh of relief as he shifted and sat up in his seat.
'We are not yet safe,' Giovanni said, concentrating on the road. 'There is a, erm, motor bicycle behind the house.'
Gordon gulped, wondering when the escapade would end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~
Gordon was dismayed to hear a bolt unlocking before seeing the heavy wooden door squeal open, allowing him his first look at his captors. The first, the older-looking of the two, had a tall, muscular frame, with the tough, worn arms of a workman. The second was shorter and slightly thinner, but possessed the same tanned skin and scraggly brown hair as his accomplice. Both also had deep, dark eyes, like never-ending pools of chocolate, leading Gordon to guess that the two were related.
The larger and more dominating of the two walked up to him and began to babble in Italian, Gordon guessed from the frequent use of the letter 'o' in words. Looking blank for a moment, Gordon replied in the only foreign language he knew, saying though the mask, 'Je ne comprende pas.' Unfortunately, this was the only phrase he remembered from the bygone days of tedious French lessons with Madame Mielle.
The man looked at Gordon strangely for a moment, and then realised the problem, 'Ah, you American, you speak no Italian, ya?'
'I speak no Italian,' Gordon said, still muffled through the gag.
The man lowered the cloth, allowing Gordon to now speak clearly. 'You from International Rescue,' he said, saying the name of the organisation slowly to pronounce it properly. Gordon nodded, wondering what it was leading up to. 'Your boss pay big money to get you back,' he said, causing Gordon to wonder whether it was a statement or a question. Whatever way, he now knew for sure that he was being held for ransom.
'You answer me?' The man said threateningly, his short temper becoming ever shorter, and Gordon knew that it was a question.
'He probably would, but that doesn't mean I'll let him,' Gordon said defiantly.
'Leo, di che cosa sta parlando?' Giovanni said, asking what Gordon meant.
'Silenzio, Giovanni,' Leo snapped, sparing a glance for his brother.
Gordon was glad that the two kidnappers had used their names to talk to each other, as although it did not help his situation in anyway, it gave him a strange feeling of slight stability.
All feeling of stability was gone when Leo lifted Gordon up by the scruff of the neck, so that the two were at eye level, with barely a hairs breadth between their noses. 'Listen, American, I want the money, and I get what I want.' He threw Gordon, still attached the chair, angrily to the stone- cold floor, causing him to land with a crack as one of the legs of the old chair snapped. Gordon landed on the arm that was still sore from a few days ago, causing him yelp as he made contact. He shook his head to clear his vision and opened his eyes to see the two men leaving the room, Leo slamming the door behind him. 'Not if I can help it,' Gordon sneered, anger generated from the pain in his arm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alan was sitting alone in Thunderbird Five, wondering what to do with himself to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts away from Gordon and what could be happening to him. The time on Tracy Island was just after two in the afternoon, meaning that his brother had been missing for over a day. Apart from communicating with Italian police, to see if they had found anything, nothing so far had been done, and it was driving everyone, including Alan, up the wall.
'I wish I knew where he was,' Alan said to himself in a murmur, failing to distract himself.
His thoughts were interrupted when a beeping emitted from the control panel to his left. Of all the times to get an emergency call, Alan thought to himself as he said in a forced voice, 'This is International Rescue receiving your call, what's your emergency?'
'International Rescue, there is a man who needs your help. He has, erm, hair of copper, and I think you know him well,' the man snarled into the radio.
It took Alan two beats to realize what the man was talking about, and half that time to work out what to do. 'You've kidnapped my bro... buddy!' He said angrily as he flicked the switches to activate the new equipment that Brains had recently installed.
'He is quick, as they say,' the man said, chuckling with little humour at his attempt at the joke.
'What do you want?' Alan said, preparing to contact his father to allow him to listen to the conversation. He put through the call, making sure that no sound would come through to Thunderbird Five.
'First, I want to speak to your boss,' the Italian man said to him, heading straight for the top to make the arrangements.
Alan grimaced, wishing he could have kept the conversation going for longer. 'Give me a minute to contact him,' he said, muting the sounds travelling through to the kidnapper and answering his father.
'What was that, son?' Jeff asked, only hearing about the request to speak to the director of the organisation.
'Dad, there's a guy on the line who wants to talk to you,' Alan said, before adding in a dramatic voice, 'he's got Gordon.'
Several members of the room gasped, but Jeff didn't so much as flinch. He had suspected kidnapping as one of the two causes for Gordon's disappearance, (the other being amnesia,) and so was somewhat ready for whatever was about to be thrown at him.
'All right, son, put him through,' Jeff said, looking at those in the room before adding, 'I'll do the talking here.'
'Good day to you, sir,' the man greeted in his strong Italian accent.
'Good would not be used to describe my day, but thank you so much anyway,' Jeff said sarcastically. 'I understand you are currently looking after a member of our organisation.'
'You understand well,' Leo said, preparing to rattle off his speech, which he had learnt in English for the benefit of those he wished to negotiate with. 'I have some more things I wish for you to understand. Your friend will be returned to you in good health once I receive from you fifty thousand of your US dollars. You have twenty-four hours to deliver the money. I expect the money to be placed by the headstone reading Alfonso Pacelli, next to the large, how you say, albero della betulla.'
'Birch tree,' Alan filled in helpfully, his knowledge of the Italian language coming in useful at this time.
'Si, grazie, the birch tree in St Maria Church, by tomorrow, seven in evening, Italian time. You understand?'
'Perfetto,' Jeff replied.
'Quello รจ buono,' Leo said before ending the call.
'Dad, I got a fix on it. They were at grid reference 498J,769H,' Alan said, reading off the co-ordinates.
'Well done, son,' Jeff said, wondering what to do next. He, naturally, was going to send someone to where the call was traced, but the question was who. Would he risk sending all three of the boys, or risk the inevitable argument if sending just one? A decision had to be made soon, as time was of the essence; each second was another second of danger for Gordon.
'All right Virgil, launch Thunderbird Two, take Pod Two, and take Scott and John with you,' Jeff commanded.
'Father, Thunderbird One is far faster,' Scott said in objection.
'And Thunderbird Two has a better equipped sickbay,' Jeff said back.
Scott saw his point, realising that until they found Gordon, they would not know the extent of his injuries, if he had any. He merely nodded, tight- lipped, and joined John as he made his way towards the passenger elevator, which disappeared into the deep steel caverns below the island.
~~
After Leo cut the transmission, he turned to his brother and said, 'All right, get him and give him a knock on the head, just enough to knock him out, okay?'
Giovanni looked confused as he asked his brother, 'Why knock him out?'
'International Rescue has the equipment to detect where the call came from, and they'll probably come looking, but if he take him somewhere else, we'll be one step ahead of them, you see?'
'No, I don't see,' Giovanni said crossly, exasperated at never being able to keep up with his brother's plans. 'I thought we were looking after him, that's what you said, so why would we run away from him?'
'Idiot! We aren't caring for him, we're holding him for ransom!'
'Leonardo! Of all the things you've dragged me into since I could walk, of all the schemes, this is by far the worst, and I am going to do something I should have done long ago, and have nothing more to do with it!' He began to walk towards the door when he heard a sharp click behind him.
'You will do exactly as I say,' Leo sneered, the gun safely in his hand.
Giovanni nodded mutely, and walked towards the room where Gordon was being held captive. Leo, thinking he had done enough to persuade his spineless brother to stay with him, put the gun into his jacket pocket and began to load the radio into the waiting car outside.
Giovanni, though, had other ideas.
He rushed into the room with Gordon in it, his chair still laying sideways on the floor, and untied him, explaining in broken English, 'Hurry, or my brother kill us. Follow me.'
Gordon staggered slightly as he got up, still unsettled from the bump on his head. He followed Giovanni, who led him through the cellar door and outside into the cool Italian night. Gordon half wished he still had his heat-proof suit, which had apparently disappeared in between the time of the crash and his waking up in the basement, as although it was bulky it would have been considerably warmer.
'Now,' Giovanni said, heading over to the car as Leo returned inside the house. The engine was already running, saving vital seconds, so all the two had to do was clamber into the tinny car and go. Giovanni, the driver, looked in his rear view mirror as he sped down the dusty path, and saw his brother run out of the house and shout obscenities.
'Riduca!' Giovanni shouted, lowered his head as far as he could whilst still driving. Gordon, not understanding what was said, used his intuition and followed suit as bullets flew and ricocheted off the car. One caught the back windscreen and shattered it to a thousand pieces before the car turned a corner and escaped from the line of fire.
'That was close,' Gordon said, breathing a sigh of relief as he shifted and sat up in his seat.
'We are not yet safe,' Giovanni said, concentrating on the road. 'There is a, erm, motor bicycle behind the house.'
Gordon gulped, wondering when the escapade would end.
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