Chapter Fourteen – Old Enemy, Old Friend
Penelope let out a small sigh as she ended the phone call. The first contact with her connections had not produced anything useful either in tracking down Parker and Natasha or finding out more about what Natasha was involved in. However, her associates had promised to do a little digging around. One had his own connections in certain places, which would hopefully turn something up. Meanwhile, Jeff was making some progress with his old associates down in Florida. He came over to Penelope.
"How did it go?" he asked.
"I made a start," she replied. "Yourself?"
"A visit to Florida would coincide with a test of some new shuttle technology and the WSA would be delighted to have me present," Jeff said. Penelope smiled.
"That's great. When are you leaving?"
"As soon as possible. Do you want to come along?"
"No, Jeff. I should remain here," Penelope said. "If any news comes through about either Parker or Natasha, I can act on it quickly."
"Yes, of course," Jeff said. He opened up a palm sized electronic organiser and tapped away on it for a few moments before putting it away in his pocket.
"I should go and make the necessary arrangements for travelling down to Florida," he said.
"I will give you a hand," said Penelope.
"No need," Jeff replied.
"I insist," Penelope said. "I have nothing else to attend to at the moment." Jeff gave in with a slight lopsided grin.
"Okay, Penny. I suppose that the sooner I get down there, the better."
Three hours later, and Jeff was back at the private airfield on the outskirts of New York City, ready to fly down to Florida in his jet. Penelope was not there to see him off. Jeff had remembered another possible source of help, and had asked Penelope to follow it up. He performed the final checks on his aircraft and then contacted the control tower to say that he was ready to go. Seconds later, he was given clearance and he steered the jet to the runway. He engaged the engines and sent the aircraft racing down the tarmac and up into the skies. Once at a cruising altitude, Jeff let out a sigh. Something about flying relaxed him. In his jet, he was in complete control, with nobody to intrude on his thoughts or decisions. He hoped that Penelope would be successful in finding Parker and Natasha. He also hoped that she wouldn't get herself into trouble whilst he was in Florida. Penny was more than capable of taking care of herself and even with Parker missing she would keep her cool. Jeff already felt bad for Parker's disappearance, but if anything happened to Penelope because of this venture… He knew that nothing would ever make him forgive himself.
She wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed. It was probably less than she thought it was. They had kept her supplied with food and water and even a few magazines, which she flicked through idly, not really caring about Britney Spears' seventh wedding or any other leftover celebrity from a bygone era. The public these days still worshipped their favourite singers or actors and became victims of the odd craze, but the face of modern celebrity was much different. Gone were the days where people became famous on the back of nothing in particular. People today appreciated achievement and genuine talent, not how much flesh someone could flash or how they spent their superstar boyfriend's money or who they slept with. Her head snapped up as the sound of the lock disengaging caught her attention. The door opened and a tall, thin man stepped into the room.
"Hello Natasha. How are you today?" The pleasantness of his well-spoken voice did not quite make it to his eyes. Natasha got to her feet, on her guard. She was always on her guard with him.
"What do you want?"
"As charming as ever, I see."
"The same could be said of you, Blalock."
"That's Doctor Blalock, Ms Morgan-Evans."
"You're not a doctor." Natasha stared icily at Blalock, who gave an unpleasant chuckle.
"Of course I am. Doctors help make people better. I make people better. You're better, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't know," Natasha replied. "Though I suppose that I could have been a serial killer, or God forbid, your mother. Actually, that wouldn't surprise me. You probably sold her somewhere down the line…" She was cut off by Blalock's hand striking her hard across the cheek.
"Enough of your insolence," he hissed, as she took a step backwards to regain her balance.
"Go to hell," she retorted, doing her best to ignore the stinging in the left side of her face.
"If you don't keep your mouth shut, that's exactly where I'll be sending you," Blalock said. Natasha just glowered back at him. He took a moment to compose himself and then spoke again in his usual calm, well-spoken manner.
"You're needed," he told her.
"What for?"
"A little experiment."
"What sort of experiment?"
"You're about to find out," Blalock said. He looked to the doorway. Natasha followed his gaze and saw two burly men step through it. She looked back to Blalock, whose face once again bore a cold smile.
"It's your choice, Natasha. We can make this simple, or we can make this difficult. What's it going to be?" Natasha regarded him for a moment.
"Go to hell," she said.
Penelope smiled sweetly at the receptionist.
"I can assure you that this is quite urgent business," she said.
"They all say that," the receptionist replied.
"Could you at least tell him that there's somebody here on behalf of Jeff Tracy?" Penelope asked. "If he does not wish to know, then I shall leave. I believe that he should be free to make up his own mind?" Her blue eyes bore just enough flint in them to tell the receptionist that the quickest way to get rid of the aristocratic blonde lady would be to follow her suggestion. With a sigh, the receptionist picked up a phone and spoke a few words into it. After a couple of minutes she replaced the phone on the hook and looked at Penelope. Although her voice was contrite, her eyes were hard.
"You may see him, although time will be limited. He is working, after all."
"I understand that he is a busy man. I shall be succinct in outlining Mr Tracy's proposal," Penelope replied, pleasantly. The receptionist gave Penelope a visitor's security tag before she entered the elevator and travelled to the appropriate floor. Once there, she saw another receptionist who was a little friendlier than her colleague. Penelope took a seat as instructed, and settled into one of her favourite pastimes of people watching. After about ten minutes, she heard a male voice.
"Ms Creighton-Ward?"
"Yes, that's me," Penelope answered, rising out of her seat and offering a hand, which her companion took.
"Tom Delaney," he said, introducing himself. He indicated that they should go somewhere quieter. Penelope followed him into a small side room.
"Can I get you a coffee?"
"No, thank you. I'm fine for refreshments," Penelope said. Tom nodded.
"So, you're here on behalf of Jeff Tracy." It was more a statement of bemusement than a question.
"Yes, I am."
"Well, I admit that I'm quite surprised. I haven't seen Jeff for years. Not since his wife passed away, actually." His face grew sad at the latter sentence, but then he seemed to shrug it off. "What do I owe the pleasure now?"
"It's quite a delicate matter," Penelope said. "Mr Tracy and I are looking into the disappearance of an employee of ours."
"Forgive me, but isn't that the domain of the police?"
"Usually, it would be, however these are exceptional circumstances," Penelope said. "We understand that our colleague's apparent kidnapping is related in some manner to Lucy Tracy." As the words left her mouth, Tom looked as if he'd been electrocuted.
"Lucy? How the hell does she come into this?"
"We're not certain," Penelope answered. "What we are certain of is that there is a rather murky affair of some type taking place in and around New York. We're looking for help in investigating it and Mr Tracy thought of you. He said that you and the late Mrs Tracy once worked together for a time and were friends. I believe that is why he feels he can reach out to you." Tom sat back in his chair.
"Yes, Lucy and I were friends," he said. He shook his head slightly. "Boy, was Jeff jealous… Well, that's all irrelevant now. Ancient history. What matters is the present. What does Jeff want from me?"
"I would be right in believing that you are a rather esteemed journalist?" Penelope asked.
"Well, I'm still in a job," Tom replied. Penelope continued.
"Mr Tracy would appreciate it if you could do some quiet asking around," she said, and handed him a picture of Parker. "This is our missing employee. We're also interested in activity at this address below."
"That's the address of governmental offices," Tom said.
"I know," Penelope said. "What we don't know is what the office is for, and what the role of this woman is." She gave him the AIDD printout of Natasha. Tom frowned.
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"I can assure you that it is not, Mr Delaney. We have been in contact with that lady before she too disappeared and we are certain that she's not Lucy Tracy," Penelope said.
"Damn straight that's not Lucy," Tom said. He stood up. "I really don't see what you're trying to achieve here, Ms Creighton-Ward, and I have serious work about real issues to get on with."
"This is very real," Penelope said.
"I can't be of help," Tom replied, abruptly. He opened the door of the room and Penelope rose, reluctantly.
"Thank you for your time," she said.
"Please make sure that you don't waste any more of it in the future," Tom said. "And if you really do work for Jeff Tracy, say hi for me."
"I'll be certain to pass the message on," Penelope said. She retreated to the elevator. It was only after she had gone that Tom realised that he still had the photographs and address she had given him in his hand. His first thought was to throw them in the bin, but then someone caught his attention and he absent-mindedly stuffed them into his pocket, completely forgetting the conversation he had just had.
Elsewhere, screams echoed down an empty corridor.