Hornet's Nest
By Spense
CHAPTER SIXThe two blond Tracy brothers kept up a steady trot, making good time down the shoulder of the two lane highway the long driveway had let out onto. They worked to put as much distance as they could between the kidnappers and themselves.
The rain was a steady drizzle as they jogged past farms and fields. The farms were separated from each other by dense stretches of woods. John had planned to dodge into the trees in case of an oncoming car, but there was no life to seen aside from the occasions barking of a dog. Even that innocuous sound could make both of them both jump.
John knew that they were being ridiculous. This may be the backwoods of nowhere, but people were usually friendly more often than not. However, he just couldn't bring himself to march up a driveway and knock on a door. But know this intellectually and being able to get past the feeling of enemies behind every tree was another thing entirely. He wondered again about whatever it was they had been drugged with.
After several hours of steady movement, John was beginning to wear out. He kept waiting for Alan to complain, but surprisingly, his younger brother stayed silent, gamely matching his pace. John finally stopped. Alan imitated him, looking puzzled.
"I need to stop," he finally admitted. "Let's find someplace to hole up before it gets light out."
His brother's soft, heartfelt 'good' told him all he needed to know. Alan wasn't in any better shape than he was. Being knocked out, drugged and tied up was beginning to catch up with both of them.
"How about there?" Alan commented after gazing around.
"Perfect," John responded tiredly.
A large, ancient wood barn, half covered by blackberry vines and alders was off to the side, well away from the farm house. Without another word, they made their way toward it.
Luckily for them, the barn had a huge loft, full of bales of old grass hay. Without even having to comment, they entered, took a quick look around, then headed for the pitch-black loft. They made their way by feel over the top of the monstrous pile of hay bales towards the back. By feel, they began to shift the hay around them until they had made a fairly well concealed cave.
"Man, these suckers are heavy!" Alan complained.
John sighed. "And nothing like doing this in the dark." He grunted as he heaved another bale. "We're getting soft, Alan."
"Speak for yourself," Alan replied. "You're the one who spends most of his time on a space station."
John snorted. He had a point.
They finally managed to get everything the way they wanted it. The entry was blocked as well as they could get it. Hidden by the back wall, somebody would practically have to be on top of them before they found them.
As they settled in, adrenaline finally draining from their systems, they shifted on the rough, stalk covered surface of the hay to get comfortable. John finally asked carefully, "You feel okay?"
Alan groaned. "No. My head aches, and if I hadn't already puked up everything already, I 'd lose it now."
John grinned sympathetically. "That's what I thought. Me too. Must be whatever they stuck us with. That and the knot on the back of my head." He rubbed it gingerly.
"Muummm." Alan was still shifting, trying to get comfortable.
They were wet, tired, worried, scared, and both sick to their stomachs. Lovely 24 hours, John thought as he wedged himself into a corner. "Come here," he said softly to his brother, putting an arm over his shoulders and pulling him close. Alan relaxed immediately and nestled in close, reminding John poignantly of the days when they were much younger, and their father had been working long hours.
Then, the boys only had each other. John would often wake up to find Alan curled up in the adjoining bed with Scott. Or if Scott was out, John would often wake to find Alan in his bed with him. The unwritten Tracy rule. The older boys took care of the younger.
"You had me scared to death, sprout. Seeing you with a gun at your temple. Took years off my life," John sighed.
Alan gave a soft laugh into John's shirt. "Didn't do much for me either." Then he swallowed hard. "And when they hit you, geez John, you went down like a load of bricks. I thought you were dead for sure."
Despite Alan's matter of fact tone, John could feel the shudder that ran through his brother. He hugged him closer, wrapping both arms around him tightly, as much for himself as for Alan. He was just grateful that they were together, free, and in one piece.
"I'm okay, Alan, really," he whispered softly. "Just a headache." He could feel Alan's tight nod against his chest, and the tension in his brother's shoulders. John was pretty sure his little brother was trying not to cry. "It's okay Alan. It's just me. I promise I won't tell anyone. It's okay to be scared."
He could barely hear the whispered reply. "Scott wouldn't be."
John had to laugh at that. "Wanna bet? Trust me, Scott would be scared. And he'd handle it, just like you did. Just like a Tracy. Strong when he needed to be. Then when it was safe, he'd let down."
That was all it took to get Alan to break down. John just held him, rubbing his shoulders as his brother let go of the emotional upheaval of the last 24 hours. What a truly horrendous day. Finally Alan seemed to be all cried out.
"Better?"
Alan nodded, still not looking up.
"Good. Let's get some sleep." John settled Alan comfortably against his chest and kept his arms close around him. He was fully aware that they were fugitives, and it was going to be a long day tomorrow. He felt Alan nod again, then could feel him gradually relax, and heard his breathing even out as he fell asleep.
Still holding tightly to his brother, John wasn't so lucky. He was too worried to sleep right now. He needed to work some things out. First off, all he knew was that they were somewhere deep in the mountains. They had no idea who had kidnapped them, just why – ransom.
He still couldn't believe that. Out of all the things that they knew, the closely held secret as to who was International Rescue, and the amazing technology involved, they were held for something as mundane as money. It was just so ludicrous. And unfortunately, just as deadly for them.
They had no money – their wallets were gone, along with all their ID, and their wristcomms. At least the people who had them would just think they were regular watches. Even so, that was going to go over well when they got home. Well, they'd deal with that later. They'd lost wristcomms before. Brains could deactivate them remotely.
So what to do. Stop at the nearest residence and call their father? Any normal person would do that. But, they were far from normal. And lets face it, that would be the mother of long distance calls, and they had no money or ID with them.
They were also hiding the fact that they were International Rescue. Man, this got complicated. He sighed heavily. Picking up on his frustration, Alan shifted uneasily in his arms. He rubbed his brother's shoulder until he settled again, then resumed thinking.
They were in a remote area. They didn't know friend from foe. In an area as sparsely populated as this, who knew if the law enforcement was even counted on the friendly side. And they couldn't even prove who they were. If they could get to a phone, they could call Anne Marie Watkins, Dad's assistant in the New York office. She knew everything about the Tracy family and IR, and could alert their father for them. But the trick was to get to someplace to make a call. No, their best bet was to keep out of sight and make their way home on their own.
It occurred yet again to John that this was extreme paranoia talking. He knew that there should be alternatives, but he just couldn't seem to get past the feeling that everybody was against them. He'd talk to Brains about it when he got home, it just had to be some kind of effect of the drug. But for the time being, he just had to roll with it.
So what about the other side. Dad and his brothers would be doing their level best to be tracing the transmissions. They would find them too, of that John had absolutely no doubt. But how would they handle it? Through International Rescue? Or by other means.
Probably other means. Jefferson Tracy would want the heads of these men on a pike, no doubt about it. So they would probably use Thunderbird One to get here, then a quick change of clothes, and a trip to the authorities, and billionaire astronaut Jefferson Tracy would be calling the shots. John grinned just thinking about it. Knowing Scott though, he'd probably be all for just skipping the authorities and just killing them himself!
So, let them do their thing, and he and Alan just needed to get someplace safe. Preferably home. Then they could sort everything out. That settled in his mind, he joined his little brother in dreamland.