Alan awoke with a gasp, feeling hands on his bruised arms. He tried to pull away, but each movement brought with it a fresh wave of agony.
"Easy, easy. I'm not going to hurt you."
Alan twisted around and found himself looking up at a new face. "Who are you?" he demanded weakly.
"I'm Elliot," was the short reply. "I'm your cousin. I'm here to see how you're doing."
"Pretty good for someone who just had the crap beat out of him with a belt," Alan spat back out, pulling away from Elliot. As he tried to move to a more comfortable position, he missed Elliot's wince.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Elliot told Alan. "Why didn't you just do what my dad told you to do? He would have stopped."
"I'm not about to help your dad keep mine from finding me," Alan snapped. "I don't want to be here. I want to go home."
"That's not possible," Elliot replied, sitting on the bed near Alan. "Why don't you just give us a chance? My dad's not that bad of a guy."
"He seems like a real sweetheart," Alan shot back snidely.
"You were asking for it!" Elliot argued. "You could have just given in!"
"Forget it!" Alan replied. "Look, I don't know if your dad is telling the truth or not, but I do know that my dad loved my mom very much, and that he would never lie to me!"
"Are you sure about that?" Elliot asked quietly.
"Yes!" Alan exclaimed. "My dad's a good man. And I'll tell you something else; he's never going to rest until he finds me! When my dad and my brothers find out what he's done, he's toast!"
"We'll see about that." Chris entered the room, giving his youngest son a curious look. "Will you please excuse us, Elliot?"
Elliot nodded and left. Chris took the same spot Elliot had just vacated.
"Alan, son, I'm very sorry for what happened earlier," he said. "You must understand, though, that it was for your own good. You need to learn some self-discipline and manners. I'm trying to help you."
"You want to help me, then let me go," Alan said.
"Alan, we've gone over this," Chris stated.
"No, we haven't gone over anything!" Alan shouted. "You've decided to keep me here all on your own! When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I WANT TO GO HOME!"
"Keep your voice down!" Chris yelled. "You will speak to me with respect!"
"SCREW YOU!" Alan bellowed. "YOU'RE NOT MY DAD! I WILL NEVER LISTEN TO YOU! YOU HEAR ME? NEVER!"
"ENOUGH!" Chris grabbed Alan's shoulders and shoved him back against the headboard, Alan's head striking the wall. He shoved the teenager again and again. "YOU WILL NEVER SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY AGAIN!"
Alan didn't answer. His body lay limp in Chris' hands, Alan having passed out from the pain again. Chris dropped Alan to the bed in disgust, stood, and exited the room.
Elliot was waiting out in the hall as Chris pulled the door shut and locked it. The two men met each other's eyes for a moment, then Chris moved down the hall to his study.
"What have you got?"
Jeff saw the grim excitement in Scott's eyes and felt it echoed in his heart. His son had found something; that much was certain.
"How about a place of residence?" Scott asked, waving a piece of paper in the air.
Jeff stood and snatched the paper from Scott's hand. He quickly scanned it, the excitement growing. "Are you certain?"
Scott nodded. "I've just cross-checked it with the boys. Turns out Chris and his three sons all live together in this house."
"Excellent!" Jeff exclaimed. "Tell your brothers to meet us in the hangar, and let Lady Penelope know. I have to contact the search parties."
"All been done, Dad," Scott told him. "Lady Penelope took off ten minutes ago with Parker, and she's going to give us some time to go get Alan ourselves before bringing backup. The boys are waiting for us in the hangar as we speak."
Jeff grinned, feeling hopeful for the first time in the twenty-four hours since his son's disappearance. "Then what are we waiting for?"
Darkness had fallen as the Tracy men moved stealthily through the rundown neighborhood where Chris Soble and his sons lived. Curious eyes peeked out from behind blinds and curtains, but nobody made any move to stop them.
"You think Alan's here?" Gordon whispered as they paused in the shadows of a large willow tree, looking up at a two-story house desperately in need of work.
"Only one way to find out," Jeff replied. "All right, Scott, John, you two go around back. Virgil, Gordon, you take the front and handle anyone who comes outside. I'll lay down some cover for you boys. Scott, John, get Alan out. Leave Chris and his sons to us."
His sons all nodded and began to run, heading for their designated spots. Jeff watched them go, sending up a silent prayer for his plan to work.
"Scott! Wait up!"
Scott turned and shot John an impatient look. "Keep up!"
John rolled his eyes, but quickened his pace. They paused near the back door, waiting for the signal.
They didn't have to wait long. A loud explosion suddenly shattered the silence surrounding the neighborhood. Scott and John traded grins.
"That's our cue," Scott whispered, reaching for the knob.
The door was locked, but that proved not much of a challenge as Scott deftly picked it and pushed it open. Pausing as startled cries reached their ears, they watched as several indeterminate shapes raced towards the front of the house.
"Upstairs first," John told Scott, moving for the stairs.
They could hear the sounds of fighting taking place just out in the front yard as they moved to the second floor. They didn't know how many of Alan's captors had gone outside, so they remained quiet in case there were any others nearby.
The upstairs hall showed several doors, all closed. Only one, however, held several locks on it. The two older Tracys headed straight for that door, unbolting it and pushing it open.
They paused just inside the room, a little taken back by the strange décor. All confusion was forgotten, however, when their eyes fell on a familiar figure lying on the bed.
"Alan!" Scott and John cried softly, crowding around him. Their younger brother jolted sharply into consciousness and began to struggle against his brothers' arms.
"Alan, it's okay, it's us, Sprout!" Scott exclaimed.
"Scott?" Alan asked in disbelief. The confusion cleared in his eyes, and he stared at his brothers. "John?"
He threw himself into his brothers' arms, hugging them tightly. Scott and John squeezed back, but released him sharply when Alan let out a cry of pain. The two elder boys looked at each other, then took a closer look at Alan.
Alan still wore the nightclothes he had been wearing when he had been kidnapped, but they were now torn and stained with blood. Through the tears, Scott and John could just make out dark bruises and newly sealed cuts on Alan's body. Their eyes darkened in fury as they realized what had been done to Alan.
"Scott? John?" Alan asked. "Where's Dad? Can I go home now?"
"Dad's outside, waiting for you, Sprout," Scott told his brother. He scooped Alan into his arms. "Let's get going."
"Going so soon?"
Scott and John tensed and spun around, finding their exit blocked by a tall, muscular, and very angry man. Scott didn't need to hear Alan's sharp intake of breath to know that this man was Chris Soble.
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Chris said calmly.
Scott felt a rage unlike anything he'd ever experience overtake him. Shoving Alan into John's arms, he lunged forward.
Chris saw him coming, and lashed out with his fist. Scott, blinded by his anger, never saw the punch coming. It connected solidly with his chin, sending him to the ground with stars in his eyes.
"Scott!" Alan cried.
Chris stepped over Scott, moving closer to the other two Tracys. John tensed. Setting Alan down onto his feet, he pushed his little brother behind him.
"I take it your father chose not to call off the search," Chris stated blandly. "He'll regret that."
"It's over, Soble!" John told him, trying hard not to look at Scott. Scott had rolled onto his hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. "We've got you surrounded and more people are on their way."
"Well, then I guess I had better hurry." Chris reached behind him and pulled out a gun from the waistband from his pants. He aimed it at John.
John straightened, making sure Alan was completely out of Chris' sight.
Scott chose that moment to strike. He kicked his leg out, connecting with the backs of Chris' knees. Chris staggered, the gun firing into the ceiling. John lunged forward and grabbed for the gun, trying to twist it out of Chris' hand.
Scott leapt into the fray from behind Chris. He spared Alan a glance. "Alan, run!" he yelled. "Get outside! Dad and the boys are there! Go!"
Alan didn't have to be told twice. He took off out of the room, running down the hall for the stairs.
He never made it.
Someone grabbed him from behind, lifting him off of his feet. Alan let out a startled cry and began to thrash, but it was no use. Whoever had him was too strong. Alan struggled helplessly as he was carried back to his room.
"Let my father go!" a voice shouted very near Alan's ear.
Alan watched as his two brothers froze and turned to him. As one, they reluctantly released Chris and stepped back. Chris straightened, wiping blood away from the corner of his mouth, and nodded at the man holding Alan.
"Good job, Luke," he said.
"Let him go," Scott ordered, his entire body thrumming with energy. John looked no less incensed, but he remained silent.
"We've got a problem," Luke said, shifting Alan in his arms. "Tracy and his other two brats are outside. They've got Josh and Elliot."
"I know," Chris replied. "We need to move."
"What about them?" Luke asked, nodding to Scott and John.
"We'll have to bring them with us," Chris decided. "We can get rid of them later."
"No!" Alan yelled, thrashing with a renewed vengeance. Luke did his best to keep his hold on Alan, but was finding it more difficult as Alan continued to fight.
Chris moved over to them and threw his fist, striking Alan across his bruised face. Alan's head snapped back, and he fell limply in Luke's arms.
"You bastard!" Scott yelled, starting forward. Only John's restraining hands held him back. "Keep your hands off of him! He's just a kid!"
Chris pointed his gun at them. "One wrong move, and your brother dies. Let's go."
Scott and John followed Chris out of the room, both glancing back to make sure that Luke was following with Alan. They exchanged silent looks, trying to come up with a way to call for help, but nothing came to mind.
Instead of going out the back door, Chris led them down into a basement. The basement was little more than a mess, with boxes and old furniture crowding every inch. The group carefully picked their way across the large room to one side, where a box spring mattress was propped against the wall. At Chris' direction, Scott and John lifted the mattress and tossed it to one side, revealing a door.
Footsteps could be heard thundering overhead. Scott and John looked back the way they had come hopefully, but Chris gestured to the door with his gun. With a sinking heart, the two boys obediently followed Luke and Alan through the door and away from any hope of help.