Hornet's Nest
By Spense
CHAPTER ELEVENJohn Tracy was not even surprised when his little brother deftly picked the lock with one hand on the Tracy Hanger at Boeing Field. "Let me guess. Parker."
Alan smiled. "What do you think? You guys left him to baby-sit me often enough."
John snorted. "I can't believe that we're going to unleash you on an unsuspecting world."
Alan grinned. "I've learned lots from my various babysitters."
John shuddered. And this was the 'vulnerable' youngest?
John entered and looked around the hanger. "Full circle . . ."
Alan blanched and looked at him. "I'm going to check the office . . ."
John laughed. "You do that. I'll start the pre-flight checks."
TB TB TB TB TBIt was a very quiet trio of brothers who waited the several hours it took until Jeff arrived back at the meeting point. During that time conversations began in fits and starts as one or another tried to brainstorm about the location of their missing family members. But each idea fizzled out into silence as they reached a dead end.
Discouragement, and the let down that came from the aftermath of a concluded action added to the disheartenment of the boys. Adding a thoroughly unsatisfactory ending to the take-down (except for maybe Scott) just completed the depression. But the worst was going to be explaining to Jeff why his two missing sons weren't there.
Brains was contacted and filled in. His negative answer to their query about any communication from John and Alan only added to the overall gloom.
"It's too bad we couldn't at least have taken their wallets," Gordon mused.
"Don't be stupid," Scott snapped. "We had to leave all of it for Dad and the FBI."
"Don't yell at me," an aggrieved Gordon shot back. "I know! I just don't like it."
"Lay off," Virgil said tiredly, trying to stave off the escalating argument.
"Oh great! Take his side, like always," Gordon irritably returned. "And give me my car back," he added as an afterthought, suddenly remembering his missing Hot-Wheel.
"Oh, for . . ." Scott began in frustration. He was cut off by the unmistakable sound of FAB-1 approaching.
"Crap," Scott said quietly.
Silence filled the cockpit again as cheerful voices approached.
"Time to pay the piper," Virgil groaned as they all got up to exit Thunderbird One and meet their father.
To Gordon, it was heartbreaking to see his father's face change from anticipation to dismay, as one by one they climbed down the ladder to stand in a ragged line in front of him. When the expected remaining two didn't appear, Jeff turned white.
"What happened?" He asked harshly. "I told the FBI that my personal security team had traced and extracted the boys. So where are they?"
Penny's hand was covering her mouth in dismay, her eyes huge, as she stood next to Jeff.
"They weren't there, Dad. They'd escaped," Scott said quietly.
"Says who?" Jeff snapped, worry overriding everything. "The kidnappers?" He asked in disbelief.
"Trust me, they weren't lying," Scott snapped back, his own frustration showing.
"DAMMIT!" Jeff shouted and began pacing. "So where the hell are they!"
The three boys remained prudently silent. Penny laid her hand on Jeff's arm. "I suggest that you return to the island, Jeff, and begin work from there. Raging about this is not going to help. You're worn out." She looked around at the Tracy boys. "You all are."
Jeff looked as though he wanted to argue. His sons held their breath, waiting to see which way he'd go. But as always, Penny managed to make their father see reason. Sighing deeply, he said, "You're right, of course. We can start tracking and tracing from there. Thank you for your help, Penny."
"Of course. I'll keep working on my end."
"Thank you."
It was a very depressed group who embarked on Thunderbird One. What should have been a joyous trip home, was instead a silent, strained journey.
TB TB TB TB TB
John was glad to see Tracy Island come into view. Looking over at Alan, who was fast asleep in the co-pilots seat, he smiled. Home again. At last. This had been one of the hardest flights he'd ever made. Keeping his eyes open had been a struggle. Thank heavens for auto-pilot. At least it was over.
Opening communications with the island, he was amazed that no one answered. Shrugging, he just landed in the deep, dark of the night, thankful that the landing lights were on, for who knew what reason. Right now, frankly, he was just too tired to wonder much about it. He was just grateful that they were on.
John woke Alan, and together, they both managed to climb stiffly out of the plane, overused muscles protesting mightily. They wandered blindly into the house, about as exhausted as they ever had been. They finally ran into somebody in the kitchen. Brains about fainted dead away when he saw them. After a brief explanation, he herded them down to the Infirmary, explaining that he'd missed their call. Everybody else was off trying to rescue them.
John just laughed wearily and let Brains look him over. Then as John changed into nightclothes, the scientist turned his attention to a drowsy Alan. He had nearly fallen asleep again as he waited for Brains to finish with John. He woke up rapidly, however, as Brains began to work on setting and casting his wrist. Together the two men got the complaining Alan changed into pajamas, then immobilized his arm.
After hearing about the drugging episode, Brains also insisted on drawing blood from each of them. John just resignedly called him a vampire and let him do it. Even Alan was too drained to really protest much. But as Brains urged both of the exhausted Tracys' into bed, Alan got typically stubborn.
"Not until Dad gets back," was his mulish comment.
Looking carefully at his younger brother, John could see he was nearly at his breaking point. He was about to launch into a major tantrum at any moment. Hurricane Alan returns. John sighed. He didn't blame him. He knew he was at the end of his limits, too. It had been a harrowing forty-eight hours, and neither one of them was thinking right. But now they were safe, they could finally let down. They both desperately needed to see their family, just as much as the other Tracys probably needed to see them.
"We'll wait in the study, Brains," John said tiredly.
Alan looked at him gratefully, shutting his mouth, explosion deflected, as Brains prepared to argue.
"No. We need to see them," John said with uncharacteristic firmness.
Brains gave in after that. John Tracy was tough to argue with even on a good day. When he felt this lousy, everybody skirted him widely. Although he seldom lost it, his temper could rival Alan's, which was clearly hair-triggered at the moment.
Ruffling his younger brother's hair, and laughing to himself as all Alan could manage to do was move slightly sideways in irritation, the two battered Tracy brothers all but staggered out of the Infirmary. Brains just shook his head, following them into the Command and Control Center.
Alan drifted over to one couch and collapsed onto it with a moan, wincing in pain. That had not been a good move. He curled up on his side, clutching his arm tightly to his chest. John moved slowly to the other, and dropped onto it. Slouching down bonelessly, he adjusted his head until he found a position, that if not exactly comfortable, was at least tolerable. His ribs complained however he sat.
Brains moved to contact Jeff Tracy. Before he could even reach to activate the microphone, the two Tracys were asleep.
Brains was interrupted by the sound of Scott Tracy's voice.
"Thunderbird One to Base."
"This is, uh, Base. Go ahead Thunderbird One."
"Returning to Base. Requesting clearance to land for Thunderbird One."
"Clearance approved. And, uh, Mr. Tracy . . ."
"Later Brains," came Jeff Tracy's tired voice. "We'll be there in a minute."
"But Mr. Tracy", Brains tried again.
"He said later, Brains," Scott's voice said with an irritated edge to it.
"Ok, uh, see you in a, uh, few minutes." Brains gave up. He smiled wryly at the two other Tracy boys in the room with him, sound asleep. This was going to be fun.