Chapter Six
Jeff reached for the phone and flipped it open with shaking hands, both his boys eyeing him anxiously. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke into it.
"Jeff Tracy here."
The voice on the other end sounded so matter of fact, he could have been calling to sell Jeff a magazine subscription.
"Well, hello there, Mr. National Hero/Ex-Astronaut. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"Why don't you dispense with the pleasantries, you son of a bitch, and get to the point."
"Now, now, Jefferson, let's not make this personal. I am only a businessman."
Jeff replied through gritted teeth. "I know what you are, now I want to know what you've done with my sons!"
"If that is so, you might start showing me a little more respect. After all they will only live as long as I deem necessary."
"Just tell me where to leave the money."
"Oh, I shall do better than that. I will let one of your own children tell you. He's your eldest, I believe, is he not?"
Virgil and Gordon glanced at each other briefly and Virgil put the great ship on autopilot.
They both raced to be with their father, dreading what the message might contain.
The vidscreen on the phone was activated and they saw Scott as he sat alone in front of the camera. Virgil ran a hand through his hair and squeezed Jeff's shoulder tightly. As the recording went on, Gordon's jaw became set in stone. He felt a great anger rising up in him, anger for what his family was being forced to endure and anger at the fact that this asshole didn't even know he had pretty much shut International Rescue down, preventing them from saving the lives of God knows how many innocent people just for the sake of his own personal wealth. The usually jovial brother, who was able to find a positive spin on almost anything, was fast sinking into the dark depths of hatred.
They watched, wordlessly, not wanting to miss a single detail. They could tell that Scott's dialogue had been scripted and wondered what the kidnappers had threatened him with to force his hand in reciting this fabrication on camera. Their fear for the safety of the two younger Tracys suddenly increased ten-fold. They knew that Alan and John must have been used against Scott to gain his cooperation.
Then came the part where the eldest sibling got to add his personal comments to them. Jeff's shoulders sagged as his son spoke the words fabulous and five. They had long ago found it necessary to set up code words to be used in situations such as this when they could not communicate with each other directly. 'Fabulous' meant just the opposite of its true definition. They were being told that someone was gravely injured. 'Five' confirmed that the person injured was John. The Tracy patriarch put his head in his hands and Virgil gently took the phone from him as he put an arm around his shoulders in empathy.
As the streaming video ended, the faceless voice returned to taunt them.
"I would love to continue this repartee, my dear Jeff, but I have more pressing matters at hand. You now have twenty-two hours."
The connection was severed and the three Tracy men were left to ponder their options.
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Alan made his decision. He wasn't going to just sit there and wait for the end to come. If he was going to go down, he would go down fighting. He took a long, lingering look over at his brother John, who was now comatose and moaning softly.
"I'll get you out of here, Johnny, I swear!"
He sat by the door and waited, figuring that someone had to come down that corridor sooner or later, either to bring them food, or...he didn't really want to think about the or. Suddenly, he heard a creaking sound, followed by what sounded like a single set of boot-clad footsteps. Good, it sounds like he's alone. He braced himself behind the door and waited, figuring this would probably be the only chance he'd get. The footsteps became louder and Alan braced himself as the door latch released. It slowly opened and he flattened himself behind it as much as he could. As the man who had entered through it cleared the door, the young astronaut went for his ankles, tackling him as a defensive lineman would the starting quarterback. They struggled briefly before Alan grabbed for his weapon. As both men rolled on top of it, the gun went off...
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"Virgil, how long before we land in Sydney?"
"Just about another 10 minutes, Father. We passed over into Australian airspace about five minutes ago."
"Good. Well, if you'll excuse me, it's time for me to change into something other than the guise of Jeff Tracy."
As he stood up to leave, his surroundings began to spin out of control. He gasped and caught himself on the back of his seat.
Gordon went to him and supported him until he seemed able to remain on his feet.
"Dad! Are you okay? What is it?"
"It's...nothing I'm...I'm fine. You can let go of me now."
Virgil wasn't so sure. He realized just how frail his father appeared at the moment and, of all the words that had ever been used to describe Jeff Tracy, frail was usually nowhere to be found.
"But Dad, you need to take it easy, you've been under a lot of stress."
"Look, Virgil, I'm...I'm going down to the equipment locker. Let me know when I need to strap in for landing."
Not wanting to aggravate his father any further, the second eldest Tracy son relented. "Okay, sure, Dad, sure."
They watched as he entered the elevator down to the lower levels of Thunderbird Two, their faces reflecting more than a modicum of concern.
"Virgil, why did Dad want to bring Two along, anyway? We could have gotten there much faster in One."
"Well, that's practical, sensible Jeff Tracy for ya. He figured that since we had a bit of time, we could take Two along and give her a proper shakedown."
After sensing that his brother was leaving something unsaid, Gordon prompted him to go on.
"And?"
"And Two has more fire power in case we get into a tight spot and need to use it."
"You mean, in case Dad decides to blow the bastards to kingdom come."
"Something like that. And then there's the fact that we have a fully equipped sick bay on board in case..."
Gordon glanced sharply over at his brother, as the words died on Virgil's lips. Unspoken thoughts crowded the air between them as each man fought the unbidden images that threatened to overwhelm their psyches. Finally, Gordon broke the awkward silence with a Tracy trademarked change of subject.
"God, Virg. If he keeps trying to hold everything together for our sake, it's going to backfire on him. He's just gonna explode from the pressure."
"I know, Gordo, I know. But you know how stubborn he can be, doesn't like to admit that anything gets to him."
"Gee, who else do we know like that?"
Virgil smiled a sad smile and swallowed hard.
Gordon walked over to his older brother and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Virgil, I..." He wasn't able to continue.
Virgil said nothing but, without looking at him, placed his hand over Gordon's. The older brother closed his eyes briefly before flipping a switch on the control panel and speaking into it. "Father, prepare for landing..."
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The comatose man lying on the floor in a puddle of blood flinched as the deafening noise temporarily roused him. Everything around him seemed hazy and as he looked into the mist, a face appeared. It was unfamiliar, somehow threatening. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was completely helpless, vulnerable. He blinked, but the face remained. Something registered in his foggy brain. His brother, the door creaking open. 'Al?' Then, the noise. 'No-o-o!' The figure loomed over him, grinning evilly and placing a hand firmly on his wounded leg.
He would have screamed but didn't have the strength. All that he could manage was a gut-wrenching whimper. His field of vision had started to narrow as his brain threatened to shut down once more. Then he felt it, a movement, like when Scott had bandaged his thigh. He opened his eyes, which he had squeezed shut. There was a moment of confusion and then he knew what the movement was. The man was removing the tourniquet, in effect, taking his life. He heard the man talking to him, describing how horrible bleeding to death would be. It also occurred to him that this man had probably already murdered his baby brother. In a moment of clarity, he looked the man in the eyes, summoned all the fortitude he had in him, and spat squarely in his face. It was only then that John Tracy finally allowed himself to give up the struggle.
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As Virgil gently sat Thunderbird Two down in a remote area of Port Campbell National Park, his father was ending the conversation he was having on the Vid-Sat.
"Right, Penny. We'll see you then...and Penny?"
"Yes, Jeff?"
"Thanks for all your help in getting that wire transfer expedited."
"Of course, Jeff. I'd do anything to help, you know that. I've grown rather fond of those boys of yours."
She was trying to be upbeat but her voice was wavering and Jeff could tell that she was desperately trying not to break down while she was speaking with him. He tried to spare her that by ending the conversation as quickly as possible.
"I know you are and I know they feel the same about you. I'll let you know when the 'package' has been received."
"F.A.B., Jeff. Really, I do wish you'd let me bring it to you myself."
"I appreciate the offer, Penny, I really do, but I expect whatever's going to happen to be long over by the time you'd be able to get here."
"Well, at least my prayers are with you, Jeff. Keep me posted on the situation and please... take care."
"We will, Penny..."
There was a long pause as Jeff felt the need to say more, but in the end, could only sign off.
"I'll be in touch."