Hornet's Nest
By Spense
CHAPTER FOURScott might pace in order to better think, but Gordon swam. He'd finally slept, out of sheer exhaustion. Now, he swam laps in the pool. Back-stroke for 200 meters, then crawl for 200, then the butterfly, then the breast stroke. Then he began it all over again. It could be mind numbing at times, but it could also stoke the creative fire.
He thought about his father. The core of strength ran incredibly deep in that man. It was a good thing too. This had been a really tough year so far. First the Hood had taken over the island. Gordon's stroke missed a beat in his rhythm as he thought of that episode. He put his mind on his swimming for a moment, getting back into his rhythm.
The Hood taking over the island was one of the most harrowing things Gordon could think of. It was their home and their sanctuary. That was bad enough. But to be trapped up on Five, with no other hope but Alan had made it even worse.
But his pipsqueak little brother had really come through. That alone had made Gordon think that there might be hope for the brat yet. As much as he could make Gordon crazy, they had always been pretty close. Gordon had always liked his sheer cheekiness, and besides, for him, it was utter self-defense to get close to Alan. Following in age order of the 'big three', geez, a guy found camaraderie where he could. Scott, John and Virgil always seemed like perfection personified, and Gordon was usually looking for new ways to take them down a peg or two. Alan always had managed to rise to the occasion to help him whatever plans he was making to torment their older brothers, and was usually a pretty admiring audience as well.
Gordon switched strokes again. Then came the whole rotten episode in late spring. Gordon still cringed when he remembered the things that he'd said. Alan had run away, and when they'd finally found him, he was so ill that they weren't sure he'd pull through. That had been a really long couple of days. He still didn't think Alan even knew how close he'd come to not making it.
But there had been good coming out of that time. Gordon now had not just an admiring audience, he had an active partner in crime. As Alan grew up, Gordon was discovering more hidden depths in his little brother. He thought about the prank they'd pulled on Scott with the computers. Well . . . let's just say he had something else percolating in his mind for the two of them. But now this had to happen.
John and Alan both missing. They didn't even know who was behind it. This was shaping up to be the worst year ever. Well, maybe not ever, but it was pretty close to as bad as the year his mother had died, and to the year he'd had the hydrofoil accident. Having seen his father's face, he knew Jeff's thoughts weren't much different.
Alan was a magnet for trouble, Gordon thought as his mind turned back to his missing brothers. They all knew that. But John was Mr. Clean. He could make a boy scout look like a hoodlum. John had to live the most boring life imaginable, at least in Gordon's opinion. Gordon was still astounded that John had joined in when he caught Alan reprogramming all the computers to practically self-destruct when Scott logged in. And John had never said a word to anyone about it. John was his brother, and he loved him, but he would never understand him. How could a guy be so absolutely unexciting?
Gordon's mind skipped to another tangent as he swam. The thought of John and Alan together on this one made him laugh. He'd love to be a fly on the wall at some point in this one. Mr. Impulsive (Hurricane Alan as Virgil had once dubbed him) and Mr. Conservative himself. But they seemed to be getting along pretty well this summer. Dad had sure dumped Alan on John a lot, but John never seemed to care. He actually seemed to enjoy it.
Still, stressful situations brought out the worst in people, and he'd love to see where this one led. John probably wouldn't ever tell him, but he'd get it out of Alan eventually. Gordon could play his little brother like a piano. Having five years on him sure didn't hurt.
But first things first – they had to get them back. That led Gordon full circle again, and he started to chew over the days events again. His thoughts were halted as his attention was caught by movement at the side of the pool. Feet in fact, stopping at the edge, and wavering through the filter of the clear water. Gordon stopped mid stroke and emerged into the noise and sunlight, loud after the muffled solitude of underwater.
"What?" He said to Scott who was standing at the edge.
"Dad says to come up to the study. He wants to have a pow-wow," Scott said briefly.
"Okay," Gordon answered just as briefly, and proceeded to climb out of the pool. One look at Scott's face had shown him that old Scotty was in 'big brother mode'. There'd be no living with him until they got to the bottom of this. Tunnel vision didn't even begin to cover it. Time to tread very carefully.
Gordon grabbed a towel and began to dry off as he watched Scott head purposefully for the study. He was under no illusions. Most kidnappings did not end successfully. As much as he tried to hide from the knowledge, he was well aware of it, and knew that his family was cognizant of this as well. So far, nobody had mentioned it, and Gordon was sure not going to be the one to point this out. If this all ended badly, it wasn't only going to be John and Alan as the victims. This whole family would self-destruct. Ignoring the knots in his stomach, Gordon took a deep breath, and went to join the meeting in the study.
TB TB TB TB TBJohn waited what seemed like an eternity before he began to try and see what he could do about getting loose. He'd been checked on twice. Nobody had spoken to him, but he had heard footsteps, then the door opening, sharpening the sounds of the rain. After a pause, the door had shut, and the footsteps had faded away again.
After the second check, John began to fiddle with the handcuffs and try to feel around behind him to see if there was something he could pick them with. He still felt lousy, even several hours after waking up. His head was killing him, and his neck was stiff. But worse was the way he was thinking. He still just felt slow, and like he wasn't able to plan as well as he usually did. Shoving those thoughts aside as unproductive, he turned back to getting free.
TB TB TB TB TB"What's up? Any news?" Gordon asked as he entered the study a few minutes later than Scott, having detoured to dry off.
"No," Jeff said from his seat at the desk. Scott had joined him, leaning with one hip hooked on the desk and conversing with Virgil via the vidphone.
Gordon dropped into a nearby chair and waited.
"I want to make sure everything is set. Make sure all the Thunderbirds are fuelled and equipped. I want the first aid supplies checked and ready. Virgil and Brains are standing by with the new tracking program. And I want us set up in shifts to monitor things from here." Jeff held up a hand to forestall the inevitable protests from both Scott and Gordon, neither of who were willing to give up the first shift.
"No. We have no idea when this is going to go down. Having all of us operating on no rest is ludicrous. I want somebody in here round the clock, but only ONE of us. Understood?"
A chorus of 'yes sirs' answered him. But before Scott and Gordon could put their heads together to figure out a timetable, Jeff continued. "And boys? Make sure you put generic, non-identifiable flight suits in each of the birds. If we have contact with the kidnappers before the authorities as we've planned, they must have no inkling that you are International Rescue. Understood?"
"FAB," came the response. And the Tracys went into action.
TB TB TB TB TBThe remainder of that day and night were awful for Gordon. He had more patience than his little brother, but he also had an extremely high energy level. The waiting made him crazy. They were as prepared as they could be. The Thunderbirds were provisioned and ready. Generic flight suits and helmets in an intimidating charcoal gray were stowed, as well as carry-alls with civilian clothes for each of them just in case.
To Gordon, the hardest part was inventorying and restocking the emergency crash carts. Bad enough to have to use this stuff on people they rescued, but to have to use it on his own brothers. . . Gordon shuddered. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.
The red-haired Tracy son watched as Scott checked the weapons, and stayed well clear. He wasn't going to cross Scott right now for anything. With the mood his older brother was in, Gordon was just going to stay in the background, let super-Tracy do his thing, then step in to clean up the aftermath. Scott had always been tough, and his time in the Air Force had just honed that to a razor's edge.
He'd also always been fiercely protective of his brothers. Overprotective in Gordon's opinion. Add those two traits together and Scott was downright intimidating. At least, now, the older Gordon got, the easier he found it to deflect that eagle-eyed attention of 'Captain Tracy' over to Alan and off himself with just a couple of words. He'd gotten remarkably adept at it. A skill his little brother had yet to learn, Gordon thought to himself with a grin.
With everything done and ready, the activity on the island settled to a quiet waiting. A quiet pregnant with anticipation and alert readiness. The Tracy family stuck to their watch schedule, but otherwise disappeared to silently indulge in whatever helped them to cope. Action was preferred, but until that time, they persevered through the hardest thing of all – waiting.