Chapter Seven

"Where is he? He should have been back by now."

"I don't know, sir. No one's heard from him in at least an hour."

The big man wheeled on him. "What do you mean you don't know? What the hell am I paying you for?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll go and speak with the other guards. He was only to check on the status of the hostages and then report back, nothing more."

"Do that! And when you find him, I want him brought to me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

A small contingent of men was assigned to search the lower levels of the network and before long, they discovered the reason for the other operative's tardiness. The door to the small room where the Tracys were being held was kicked open and the man assigned to lead the search gasped at what lay before him, not at the sheer horror of the scene so much as because he knew what lie ahead for the wayward operative.

Back up on the level where Scott remained with "The Boss," the eldest brother was getting impatient, wanting to know what was going on and whether or not his brothers were being treated well.

"Of course they are, Scott, and so long as you continue to cooperate, they will continue to be."

"I still don't know what else you want from me. I've done everything you've asked."

"In due time, my young friend, in due time."

A feeling of dread had begun to grow in the pit of Scott's stomach. His intuition told him something was not right but what could he do about it? He didn't even have a weapon and if he tried anything at all, it would mean the demise of a good portion of his family. He had never felt so helpless in all his life. Please, Dad...please get here. They need you...I need you.

+>>>>>+>>>>>+

As twilight set over the great Southern Ocean, Gordon sat down next to his father, who was perched upon a sand dune. Neither man spoke for a time, each lost in his own thoughts as they watched Virgil pacing up and down along the shoreline. Earlier, he had been about to jump out of his skin and the sound of the sea had always had a calming affect. It made all of them feel at home whenever they were far away from their island but even with all the beauty surrounding the rock formation that was a marvel of nature, Scott's closest sibling could not shake the visions he'd been having, visions indicative of the fact that they might already be too late. He did not share them with Jeff or Gordon as they had already had too much time to think about what might be happening to his three brothers. His green lady had been carefully camouflaged in order to keep up appearances. She couldn't be flown in the actual rescue attempt, because if they were dealing with professionals as they believed, she'd have shown up on their radar screens.

As far as anyone close by knew, they were just tourists enjoying a quiet moment, the gentle breeze surrounding them. Gordon finally looked at his father and asked the question for what he hoped was not the umpteenth time.

"How much longer before they arrive, Dad?"

"I told you before, Gordon, shortly before sunrise."

"And they'll be bringing the 'other' package as well?"

"Yes, now..."

"Father..?"

"What is it, Gordon?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but there just wasn't anything to say. Unable to control his emotions any longer, he turned his back to his father and put his face in his hands. He made no sound but Jeff could see his body trembling. He gently placed his arms around his fourth son and looked up to see Virgil standing before him. He motioned for him to come near and embraced both of his children securely. It was not a moment that happened often in the Tracy family, but right now, it was a moment all three desperately needed.

>>>>>+>>>>>+

Despite the more than adequate accommodations in Thunderbird Two, they opted to keep their all night vigil on the beach as sleep was something they couldn't succumb to until this hellish situation was at an end. Jeff checked his chronometer.

"He should be arriving any time now."

As if on cue, Gordon, who was acting as lookout, signaled that someone was arriving on the beach. All three hurriedly shimmied down the dunes to meet the vessel carrying their contact, with Virgil tripping and falling ass over tea kettle in his rush to get there.

"You okay, Virg?"

The second Tracy brother got to his feet and brushed the sand off himself.

"Um, yeah, Gordo. I'm fine."

They raced down to the shore line to greet the hydrofoil as it made its way onto the beach. After it had come to a halt, a lone figure jumped down off the pontoons onto the sand below and removed his diving hood. A strong face with a military issue, flat-top haircut greeted them, his hand outstretched.

"Agent Zero-Zero Seven at your service, Mr. Tracy."

The two siblings exchanged a look.

"You're kidding, right? You're agent Double 'O' Seven?"

"The very same..." He looked the dark-haired Tracy up and down. "Virgil, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right." Virgil grinned and also extended his hand. "Bet I'm the first one to ever ask you that, uh...?"

"Deke's the name. Pleased to meetcha. Wish it was under better circumstances." His handshake was firm and friendly.

"Us too, Deke, believe me."

"Ah, the red-head. You must be Gordon."

Gordon grinned and shook the man's hand in turn. "Yeah, I must be, it's the only explanation."

"Okay, boys, let's get down to business," the elder Tracy interjected. "Where's the satchel?"

Deke jumped up and grabbed the thin piece of rope that he'd strategically thrown over the side before disembarking, and pulled the attached sack down to show them.

"Right here, sir, along with the 'enhancements.' "

"Good, you know what to do, I've briefed the boys, now let's get to work..."

Gordon planted the satchel containing the ransom on the base at the Southern end of the eleventh 'Apostle' as instructed. When he was finished, he gathered up his equipment and walked towards the craft. As he approached it, he began feeling strange and the closer he got, the worse he felt. Breathing was becoming difficult and he hesitated before boarding the refurbished Zytiron model hover ship, opting instead to report to his father from where he stood.

"All set, Dad. Where's the 'other' package?"

"You're looking at it, son."

Gordon glanced around him, but still didn't get it. "What do you mean?"

"Well, get in here and I'll show you."

Gordon didn't move a muscle.

"What is it son?"

The haunted look in Gordon's eyes confused Jeff for a moment, and then he noticed his son closely examining their transportation. Virgil noticed it too and started to walk towards him. Jeff raised a hand to stop him, knowing that this was something Gordon had to do on his own. They had all forgotten just how recent his hydrofoil crash had been, and in a similarly designed ship as well.

Slowly, he made his way into the craft, running his hands over her lines and glancing around to determine how well outfitted she was. Jeff and Virgil watched him closely as they stood by, silently encouraging him to overcome the trauma that had left as many emotional scars as it had physical.

Deke smiled warmly. "This is no ordinary hydrofoil, Mate. She's got a few surprises in 'er."

He proceeded to demonstrate the various accoutrements, including, but not limited to rocket launchers, a rapid fire machine laser turret, and stores of various types of deadly ammo. Just the thing for an all out raid on a hideout.

Virgil whistled his approval and grinned from ear to ear for the first time since their ordeal had begun.

"...and that's not all." Deke continued. With her reactor driven turbines, she'll get us there before the sun comes up."

The distraction worked. The aquanaut even seemed intrigued.

"Okay, one question here." Gordon ventured. "Where exactly is there?"

Jeff elaborated. Our Sydney bureau has gotten a lead on where the boys might have been taken. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure.

"Where, Dad?" Gordon asked anxiously.

"Tasmania. It's the perfect base of operations for the type of job they're pulling. Just remote enough to not draw any undue attention."

The relief on the faces of Jeff's sons was evident as this was the first lead they had received and it sounded like a damned good one.

"With any luck, we should arrive there before they've even had a chance to retrieve the satchel, much less verify the contents."

"Well," Gordon said, the spark back in his demeanor. "What are we waiting for?" and reached out to push a harmless looking red button. But before he could, three voices wailed on him in unison, causing him to pull his arm back sharply.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!"

>>>>>+>>>>>+

After an exhaustive search, the fleeing fugitive was finally apprehended. His hands were bound and his legs chained together as his former comrades dragged him along, each step taking him closer to his fate. Their employer was waiting as the prisoner was presented to him and then roughly thrown at his feet.

"Please, please! It was an accident; I beg of you, do not punish me!"

Their leader looked disgustedly to the man on the floor before him. "Get up."

"No-no, please! I have done nothing wrong!"

"Oh, but haven't you? I suppose that two of my three hostages ending up on the brink of death was entirely their idea."

"No, sir. The younger one...he-he attacked me and the other...he was trying to help him. I was just defending myself."

The man standing just shook his head, knowing that this former associate was making a pathetic attempt at saving his own skin.

"Get up."

"N-NO!"

"Silence! If you wish to escape the full brunt of my wrath, you will get up...now!"

The man whimpered and cowered as he stood, apologizing profusely for his misstep.

"Yes, yes. I know, we all make mistakes from time to time..."

The prisoner appeared to become visibly relieved, believing that his captor was now beginning to sympathize with his plight.

"...but not at the cost of ten billion dollars!"

In the blink of an eye, a gun was raised, aimed at a spot between the man's eyes and fired. He was dead before he hit the ground.

"Take this rubbish out of my sight...fool!"

>>>>>+>>>>>+

After an almost 3-hour trip across the Southern Ocean at more than twice the normal speed for a hovercraft, the landing party had come ashore in Tasmania, all of them ready to take on the combined armies of the world. They had come the long way around, avoiding the Bass Strait and so being less likely to be noticed. Thanks to the fact that microdot transmitters, or 'MTRs' as Brains called them, had been inserted onto some random bills contained in the satchel, the ransom money would lead them straight to their quarry. They would be able to find the remaining three Tracy brothers and rescue them before the louts would even have finished counting it. They only hoped they wouldn't be too late.

The intelligence Jeff had received had also mentioned the fact that there was some unusual activity occurring about ten miles in from the coast, traveling southeast from their current position. There seemed to be unusual structures, perhaps used as arsenals, but no apparent living quarters of any kind. Yet, the men were there. The remote satellite feed from the now-automated Thunderbird Five had seemed to confirm that. Where then, he wondered, did they retire to when their shift of duty was over? Traveling to the city was not the smartest choice when you wanted to make sure no one could follow you back. Besides, their options for transportation appeared to be a bit limited.

"Do you have the scanner, Virgil?"

"Yeah, Deke, right here."

"Great, so we're ready. Let's get undercover somewhere. After all, we don't want anyone spotting us as they approach the beach. By my calculations, they should be about two hours behind us, Mr. Tracy."

"But how do we know they're coming by watercraft?" Virgil wondered.

"Because the Intel suggests no aircraft of any sort in this vicinity."

"Okay, here's what we're going to do." Jeff began. I've had the opportunity to study a little bit about the terrain in this area. It's full of national parks and forests. We can travel inland along the Arthur River in the general direction of their camp.

"Father, do we know how many of them there are?"

"It's hard to tell from the satellite feed, Gordon. We'll just have to be ready for anything. Since we have a bit of a wait, there's plenty of room in the back of the craft if you boys want to catch a short nap along the way. You're going to need to be on full alert status once we arrive and have pinpointed the location." Before Virgil and Gordon could mount their protests, he added with conviction, "And that's an order."

>>>>>+>>>>>+

In his holding cell, Scott heard the sound of gunfire reverberating down the hallway. He stiffened suddenly, his heart racing. Someone had, in all likelihood, just been killed, but who?

His cell door suddenly swung open and one of the men who had abducted him appeared.

"Your presence is required, Tracy."

God, was this some kind of execution he was being led to? Steeling himself to face whatever would befall him...until he could figure a way out of it...he got up and went with the operative, who had another dart gun pointed at his neck.

Okay, dart gun. They obviously don't want to kill me...yet.

"Where are you taking me?"

His answer was the barrel of the gun being pressed firmly into his neck causing him to wince. He refrained, for the time being, from asking any more questions.

He was taken through another detour in the network, this time ending up in a room resembling the operating theater of a hospital. A slow chill began to crawl its way up his spine and his breathing became shallow and labored.

"W-what's all this?"

A thundering voice replied to him from up above. "Ah, there you are, my dear Scott. Welcome!"

"What's going on? I want to see my brothers...NOW!"

He felt the butt of the gun land heavily on the back of his neck. The blow left him temporarily dazed as he fell down on all fours.

"No, don't! He must not be injured!"

'The Boss' turned to his boss to do some damage control. "I-I am very sorry, Doctor. Perhaps I did not make it clear to my staff that he was not to be harmed. I assure you, it will not happen again."

"Well, see that it doesn't."

He then turned back to his hostage. "Good news, Scott. You are being given a rare opportunity to change the face of humanity. And, in doing so, your debt to me will be paid in full."

Scott was struggling to get back on his feet as he rubbed his throbbing neck. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The 'doctor' painted him a picture. "Through the use of your antibodies, we hope to manufacture a universal serum that will eradicate virtually all of the more serious, chronic diseases of our time. "

"So, what? You want my blood?"

The reply he got was a condescending chuckle.

"Oh, nothing quite so simple I'm afraid, my young friend. See, we feel that in order to reach maximum effectiveness, the antibodies must be derived from cytokines that have been channeled directly through the originating organs after they have been placed into another subject's body. Of course, the original organs of the host will need to be removed in order for the exchange to take place."

"The host?"

The doctor just looked at him and smiled sickeningly.

Scott's eyes widened to reflect the revulsion he felt as the identity of the host became clear to him. "Are you out of your fucking mind! Do you really expect me to agree to participate in something as sick as...?"

The voice of 'The Boss' once again thundered at him from above.

"Now, Scott. Is that any way to act after the favors I've granted you? You have embarrassed me in front of my employer."

"To hell with your employer! Where are my brothers? What's happened to them?"

"Why, what makes you think that anything has happened to them?"

"Well, for one thing, you haven't told me whether or not the ransom has been paid yet, you won't tell me anything about Alan and John and you haven't mentioned the terms of our release."

"Yes, yes, I should have guessed that you would not be placated without proof of their wellbeing."

He sighed and then paced about, wishing to draw out Scott's moment of agony. Finally, he turned and peered down at the intense young man.

"I am sorry to tell you that young Alan has met with a terrible accident and as a result, John's condition has worsened."

"What? What have you done to them...? TELL ME!"

"Well, I'm afraid that one of my associates, a particularly loathsome creature, apparently overstepped his authority. He shot your brother Alan and caused John to lose an excessive amount of blood. But I assure you, he has been punished for his actions. I think I can safely say that he will never disobey another order."

Scott's face grew red with barely contained fury as the focus temporarily shifted away from his own plight.

"I'll kill you with my bare hands, you fucking lunatic! If they die..."

"I believe you would, but I'm afraid that will not be possible, for we are on a tight schedule and the doctor must be allowed to proceed."

The eldest Tracy brother desperately prayed that somehow he had become a victim of horror movie overkill and that all of this was just the product of his own deranged imagination. How could things have gone from him and his brothers wanting to take a little time away...to this? His eyes darted around wildly until he spotted the exit and then vaulted clear across the operating table to reach it.

He never made it that far, though, as five pairs of hands roughly dragged him to the floor. He struggled with everything he had, but eventually, they managed to immobilize him. The five men hauled him up and carried him back to the table where they placed his arms and legs in tight restraints. A strap was also placed around his head to anchor it down. He could see the doctor, who reminded him very much of one named 'Frankenstein,' hovering above him, fondling what looked to be a shiny new surgical instrument as he regarded his subject almost gleefully.

"No! Don't do this...please!"

'Dr. Frankenstein' was obviously enjoying himself and there was no mistaking the venom in his words. "Don't worry, Scott. I'll be gentle."

A rubber mask was then placed over his face, muffling any further protests. He panicked at the hissing sound emitting from it, but his resolve was already beginning to fade. He was vaguely aware that his clothes were being cut away as the consciousness continued to ooze out of him and the thought that he'd never see his family again prompted the tears that were now making their salty tracks down his face. God, I'm sorry, Father! I've failed you... I've failed them...HELP...! VIRGIL...HELP ME PL----...And then he was gone, descended down into the depths of grateful unawareness.

The 'doctor' casually turned to his assisting surgeon, handing him the instrument. "Perhaps you would care to make the first incision?"