Alan moaned as he fought against the currents of sleep threatening to drag him back down. He nearly gave in; the stabbing pains in his skull were certainly enough to convince him to stay under, but something was niggling the back of his brain, telling him to wake up.
It took quite a bit of effort, but after several attempts, Alan managed to open heavy eyelids.
"You're awake! Are you hungry?"
Alan gave a start at the sudden voice. He looked around wildly, trying to see where he was.
He was lying on a bed in a small, windowless room lit by two bedside lamps. The room was decorated in a sports motif; posters of famous athletes adorned the walls. Action figures stood on the dresser on the far side of the wall, beside a number of framed photographs. Even the comforter on the bed resembled a football field.
A tall, muscular man with wavy blond hair and light blue eyes sat at the foot of the bed, smiling at Alan. Alan sat up and scooted to the headboard, wanting to put some distance between this strange man and himself.
"Who . . . who are you?" he demanded nervously. "Where am I?"
The man's smile widened. "Why, you're home, Alan."
Alan frowned in confusion. "Home? I don't understand. Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"I know you're confused, Alan, but all will be explained later," the man said. He stood and retrieved a tray laden with food from the dresser and set it down in front of the teenager. "Eat now. I'll be back in a bit."
Alan stared at the food, then at the man. So many questions filled his head, but he found himself speechless.
The man paused at the door and looked back at Alan, a fond smile on his face. "You look so much like your mother, Alan. So much like her."
He turned and left. Alan immediately leapt from the bed and ran to the door, pulling at the knob.
Locked.
"Hey!" Alan pounded on the door. "Hey! Let me out of here!"
After several minutes of yelling, Alan finally turned to survey his new surroundings. He wasn't entirely certain as to what was going on, but he knew that he didn't want to spend another minute there.
It appeared that he was in an ordinary bedroom. There were bookshelves filled with all sorts of books, ranging from fiction to nonfiction. There were even clothes in the dresser, all, to Alan's shock, his size. He slammed the drawers shut in disgust and turned his attention to the framed photographs sitting on the dresser and hanging nearby on the wall.
They were of children. Two boys and one girl, all obviously related. Each had blond hair and smiling blue eyes. Alan lifted a picture of the children smiling at a birthday party and gave a start. One of the little boys looked a lot like John. At least, the resemblance between John's childhood pictures and this little boy was very strong. And the girl . . . there was something familiar about her . . .
Alan moved to a photograph on the wall that showed the children a little older. He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew them from somewhere.
One picture on the nightstand by his bed took his breath away. Alan felt his legs turn to rubber, and he sank down onto his bed and pulled the picture closer. He had seen this photo before, from an old album his father had shown him when he was younger.
It was of the girl, now a young woman, smiling for the camera in front of a blue studio backdrop.
It was his mother.
The trip from Tracy Island to Massachusetts passed in a blur for Jeff. From the moment that the headmaster of Wharton Academy had dropped that bombshell, all Jeff could think about was that his son was in danger.
The deafening silence that had followed after the pronouncement told Jeff that his other sons were just as stunned as he was. After the initial shock had worn off, however, they were full of questions and demands. With a quick promise to be at the school shortly, Jeff had severed the link with the headmaster in mid-apology.
"Kidnapped?" Gordon echoed in disbelief. "Are they sure?"
"What about Fermat?" Virgil asked.
"How could something like this happen?" Scott demanded angrily, his protective instincts firing. "Wharton Academy is supposed to be a safe environment! What happened to their security?"
"Dad, could it be the Hood?" John asked.
Scott, Virgil, and Gordon's heads all swiveled as one to John, then to Jeff. If the situation hadn't been so grave, it would have been amusing.
Jeff stood. "I don't know. I have to get to Wharton Academy immediately. Contact Lady Penelope and apprise her of the situation. See if she can track down the Hood's whereabouts."
Almost instantly, four voices rose in protest.
"Dad, we're coming too!"
"You're going to need our help!"
"We can't just sit here! Alan needs us!"
Jeff held up a hand, effectively silencing his boys. "I know you're all worried about Alan, and want to help find him, but we still have a responsibility to the people of this planet. Someone needs to stay behind and answer any distress calls."
"At least take one of us, Dad," Scott persisted. "You're going to need help, too."
Jeff hesitated, looking at his sons. Each gaze was pleading. Finally, he nodded. "All right. John, you're with me."
John nodded, glancing at his brothers. Scott nodded his approval, understanding his father's choice. Of the four of them, John was best suited for keeping his father calm and focused. The others knew how much Jeff relied on John as a stable, supportive force in his life. Even though John was scared for his little brother, he would be the best man to help their father.
That had seemed like ages ago. Jeff could barely remember anything one minute to the next. He was wholly focused on getting to Alan's school and getting some answers.
The headmaster was waiting for them when they arrived. John hadn't spoken a word during the entire trip, but now his own anxiousness had caught up with him. Before Jeff could say anything, John blurted out, "What happened?"
Wallace stared at John in confusion for a moment, then turned to Jeff. "Mr. Tracy, I am deeply sorry for what has happened. Please understand, nothing like this has ever happened here-."
"What can you tell me about my son?" Jeff interrupted. He knew the headmaster was trying to cover his bases, but legality issues regarding the school were the furthest thing from Jeff's mind.
Wallace nodded. "Of course. Excuse me. From what we know, three men in black broke into your son's room last night, subdued him, and carried him off without so much as a shred of evidence left behind that they had ever been there. If it hadn't been for young Mr. Hackenbacker-."
"Is Fermat okay?" John broke in.
"He's fine," Wallace replied. "He's with the police and the FBI now, giving his statement. It seems the kidnappers left him tied up in his dorm room. I'm told he kicked the wall until his neighbors found him. We called the police immediately, of course, but there's been no word since-."
He was cut off abruptly as Jeff spun on his heel and walked out of the office. John followed suit, leaving the headmaster sputtering behind them.
"What do you think, Dad?" John asked.
Jeff's face was grim. "I don't know what to think right now. I'm hoping Fermat can give us more to go on."
The two set off across the campus at a quick pace. As they turned the corner of one building, Jeff felt his heart constrict in his chest.
The dorm building that he had moved Alan into was currently surrounded by curious onlookers, most of them students. Those in the back were standing on their toes and talking to their neighbors, most likely trying to figure out what was going on.
As the two Tracy men neared the building, they could see several police officers holding back the onlookers. John stayed close to his father as Jeff pushed through the crowd, intent on going into the building.
One officer stepped in their path, a hand in front of them. "Sorry, sirs, this is as far as you go."
Jeff turned a steely, commanding eye on the officer, and John felt a bolt of pity for the man. It was unnerving to be the subject of his father's glares at the best of times.
"Officer, my son lives in that dorm," Jeff stated, fighting to keep calm.
The officer, to his credit, held firm. "I'm sorry, sir. You can't go in there. If you would just wait over there-."
"No, I will not wait!" Jeff thundered, his control slipping.
John quickly stepped forward, one hand squeezing his father's arm. Leaning forward, he said in a low tone, "Sir, the boy who disappeared is his son. My brother. We understand the need to keep the scene clear, but we really need to speak with the officer in charge."
The officer met John's blue eyes. After a moment, he nodded and stepped aside.
"Look for the suit," he told John as the two men passed. "Name's Vaughn."
"Thank you," John called over his shoulder.
The common room in the dorm was crowded with people, mostly boys who lived in the building. Officers weaved in and out of the crowd, taking statements and interviewing each boy. Jeff and John scanned the faces for Fermat.
John spotted him first. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing.
Jeff followed his son's gaze and spied Fermat, still clad in his nightclothes, sitting in the corner of the room with a husky man in a blue suit.
Fermat's face went from worry to relief as soon as he spotted Jeff and John approach. Leaping to his feet, he rushed over to Jeff.
"M-M-Mr. Tracy!" he cried.
"Fermat, are you all right?" Jeff demanded, dropping a hand on the boy's shoulder.
Fermat nodded. "M-Mr. Tracy, I'm s-s-sorry about w-what happened! I-I tried to s-stop them!"
"It's okay, Fermat, I know you did the best you could." Jeff squeezed Fermat's shoulder, then moved toward the man in the blue suit. "Are you in charge here?"
The man nodded, holding out a hand. "Detective Robert Vaughn. Am I to understand that the missing boy is your son?"
Jeff nodded. "What happened? Do you know who took him?"
"We're working on it," Vaughn replied. He gestured to the chair Fermat had vacated. "Would you like to sit down, sir? I'd like to ask you some questions."
Jeff hesitated. John knew why; his father was a man of action. To sit down and turn control of the investigation over to someone else, even for a few moments, would be difficult. Finally, Jeff gave in.
Vaughn took the other available seat, his notebook out. "Mr. Tracy, when was the last time you heard from your son?"
"A few days ago," Jeff answered. "We spoke on the phone last weekend. Everything was fine."
Vaughn nodded, jotting the answer down. "Alan didn't give you any indication that something was off? Maybe somebody was watching him, something like that?"
Jeff shook his head. "No, nothing. Listen, didn't the security cameras pick up anything?"
"Mr. Tracy, we're professionals," Vaughn answered, trying to steer the conversation back into his control. "We've got it covered. Now, do you know of anyone who might want to take your son?"
John and Fermat glanced at each other, but kept silent.
"Not unless it was for money," Jeff answered, deftly sidestepping the question. "Has there been any ransom demands?"
"Not yet, but we'll let you know," Vaughn promised.
John let part of his mind wander as Vaughn continued to question Jeff. He had wondered if the Hood had had a hand in Alan's abduction, but from what he had heard of the incident so far, he was beginning to doubt it. Such subterfuge seemed uncharacteristic of him. He wondered if Scott had gotten Lady Penelope to check on the status of the Hood yet.
Fermat tugged on John's arm, bringing John sharply back into the present. His father was standing, leaving a contact number with Vaughn. With a sharp glance, he led the way back through the crowd.
As soon as they were outside and out of earshot of any curious onlookers, Jeff turned to John and Fermat. "Boys, we're going to take a look around for any clues, and then we need to get back to the island. John, you and Fermat search the boys' room and see if you can find out how they bypassed the security system."
"What about you, Dad?" John asked.
Jeff's expression had hardened. John knew that look. The fear for Alan's safety had taken a backseat. Fury like a raging tempest was slowly building, and John knew that the storm would not abate until the men responsible for Alan's disappearance were caught.
"I'm calling in some favors from some friends of mine," Jeff answered. "The more people out looking for Alan, the better his chances of being found. Get going. I'll meet you boys at the main building in an hour."
John nodded and, grabbing Fermat's arm, began to jog back towards Alan's dorm. Despite the tension in the situation, he felt a thrill of satisfaction course through him. Now that his father knew where to start, no one would rest until Alan was found.