Saving Alan Chapter 13
Jeff had just had a number of good conversations with Alan's teachers. A weight had been lifted with Smith out of the school, Alan's physics grade had been reviewed and adjusted by the staff, taking into account all of the assignments that Alan had turned in but had previously been ignored. He was on his way back to the hospital and it looked as though he would just make it in time, perhaps he would be 5 minutes late.
Nevertheless, he couldn't overcome the sinking feeling that had suddenly washed over him; he didn't know why, but he wanted to see his kid and he wanted to see him now. He tried to shake the feeling off and put it down to a long day of travel, but he found himself pressing down a little harder on the gas pedal as he sped off from the airport to the hospital.
It was 3:10 when Jeff arrived at the prearranged meeting point at the hospital, but Alan was not there yet. The spot was immediately outside the entrance to the psych wing, so it should have taken Alan only moments to get there. Jeff wasn't going to allow himself to panic just yet, there could have been any number of reasons that Alan hadn't gotten there yet. But a sickly chill settled into his heart, something didn't feel right. He headed inside and stopped at the reception desk to inquire after Alan; the program had only ended ten minutes prior, perhaps Alan was speaking to a doctor or one of the counselors.
It wasn't until the receptionist returned to say that all patients had left for the day that Jeff went weak in the knees. He knew. He just knew. A glance out the large windows told him that Alan still wasn't at the rendezvous point. His heart beat faster. He forced himself to ask, "Have you seen my son, he's about 5'8" blonde hair, blue eyes, a red backpack. He would have been standing just by that tree over there." The receptionist wasted no time in affirming that Alan had walked past not long before.
Jeff was sweating and shaking now, he asked the receptionist to call security, he was certain his son was missing. The receptionist tried to reason with him for only a moment, after all, it had only been a few minutes, what could have happened? But one quelling look from the formidable Jefferson Tracy had her reaching for the phone in an instant.
Jeff went outside to call around for Alan, as he had feared, he got no response. A call in to 911 was maddening, as they generally didn't handle missing teen cases until 48 hours after a disappearance. Unless there was proof of abduction, they would just have to wait and see. It was rare that Jeff used his impressive contacts or his powerful name and societal standing to get what he wanted, but when his family was in danger nothing would stand in his way. He knew the police commissioner, he knew the governor, he had contacts in the FBI, the CIA, heck, he was dear friends with the president of the United States. It wasn't long before the 911 operator decided to send a couple officers to the scene, just to be sure.
Meanwhile, Jeff had persuaded the hospital security staff to check over the security footage from 3:00 onward. He was still holding out hope that Alan had a moment of teenage irresponsibility and went to the cafeteria or got distracted by the gift shop. But his gut turned when the security confirmed that Alan had been approached by a man who was later seen supporting Alan's weight as they walked from the scene. It had happened in plain sight, with hospital staff and patients all around. It was a hospital, they probably thought that he was in need of help walking. His boy had been abducted right in front of everybody and nobody even noticed.
After that everything was a blur. With the confirmation that Alan had definitely been abducted, Jeff had to call his sons. He hardly remembered the conversation, the police were beginning to show up, were already talking to hospital security. He dropped the bombshell bluntly and ineloquently, "Scotty, you need to get here. Now. Alan's been kidnapped." He was numb, could hardly breathe. The world was spinning and he couldn't make sense of it. A million miles away an officer was helping him to lie down, giving him a sip of water. A doctor was called in to treat him for shock. And he just let it happen.
It was some time before he finally snapped back to life. Detectives had been called in, the hospital security recorded Alan being driven away from the nearest parking garage. With a description of the abductor (it was definitely Smith, there was no mistaking his profile on the cameras), the car, and even a license plate, the police had set up blocks around the city. They couldn't have gotten far. The best news was that they had caught this so quickly.
But as Jeff started to come back to reality, he got a sinking feeling. They had thoroughly investigated Smith themselves, and the car that was used hadn't been registered or in any way associated with the man. He wouldn't be so stupid as to continue to use a car that was obviously caught on camera, he would undoubtedly switch it up somewhere. Jeff was able to relay that information to the lead detective, even give a description of Smith's known vehicle. But Jeff knew in his heart that this was going to get worse before it got better.
Scott, John, Virgil, and Gordon made record time to New York. Along the way they called in as many contacts as they could. By the time they landed they had International Rescue agents from all over aiding in the search. They had shared every bit of information that they had on Smith with the detectives, the FBI, and all of their own agents. It was a tricky business, because they had to be careful about revealing the Thunderbirds connections to the detectives and the FBI, but Alan's recent troubles with Smith gave them a good starting point. Even so, the agencies were both impressed that a few civilians had access to the technology that would allow them to look into somebody's life as thoroughly as they had.
With the investigation underway, the Tracy family was left with very little to do but wait. They were the rescuers. They provided information when they could, they tried to investigate as much as they could from their end (without giving away the secrets to their technology or identity to the many officers who were swarming around), but the truth was that they were the rescuers. They had dozens of agents who did the investigating and crime fighting for the Thunderbirds. Waiting was the hardest part, but it was what they needed to do at the moment. The sat together late into the night, barely a word was spoken, several pots of coffee were made and drained. They were the Thunderbirds, they saved people from the worst moments of their lives, but now they all felt so helpless.
It was nearing midnight, almost nine hours after Alan had been taken, that Scott reached for his computer. Something that had been bothering all of them since they had begun their investigation into Smith weeks ago was the strange cash withdrawals that he had made in the beginning of the school year. They never got an answer as to where the money had been going. Of course they had relayed that information to all of the many investigators, but the waiting was driving Scott absolutely mad. He had to do something. And though all of them were exhausted, they all followed suit, each pulling out their computers and starting to search for a needle in a haystack.
They searched in silence and without much success for several hours, until, at 7:30 Jeff received an incoming and heavily encrypted video call.
Alan came to in a dark and cramped space. It didn't take him long to realize that he was in the trunk of a moving car. He was bound and gagged and had a splitting headache. Growing up in a family of Thunderbirds, his father had drilled into him how to survive in almost any situation. He just had to keep his head about him and think straight. It was going to be hard, his head was killing him and he was feeling rather foggy. The first thing he had to do was find a way out of his restraints. It was ironic, he thought, that his family had taken the blade he kept on his person. They had been trying to keep him safe from cutting himself, but now that blade could save his life. And Jeff had always insisted that his boys carry Swiss Army knives, an understated tool in his mind. But again, in the interest of keeping Alan safe, they had confiscated that also. But Alan was resourceful and determined. He felt around for anything that could cut off the tape around his hands. He was unsuccessful, all he had managed to find was an old tire iron, but he did manage to position himself so that he was able to kick out the taillight. Now all he had to do was reposition himself to get his face near the opening; it would help to be able to see something of his surroundings and maybe somebody driving behind them would recognize a human face in the trunk.
Alan had managed to get himself turned around and was just attempting to analyze the scenery when the car came to a stop. From what he could see, they were deep in the woods, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It was dark, and there was a brisk nip to the air. The slam of a car door and the sound of approaching footsteps had Alan scrambling back from the broken taillight.
Dr. Smith's sneering face met him as the trunk was opened. How he hated that face, he had hoped he would never have to see it again, he subconsciously recoiled at the sight.
"Surprised to see me, Alan?" Dr. Smith was trying to taunt him, but really, what idiot would be surprised. Alan had known it was Dr. Smith from the second the hand covered his mouth back at the hospital, and he would bet anything that his family knew it instantly as well.
Now that the trunk was open Alan could see that they were parked outside a rickety cabin. He knew that if he were to be led into that house his chances of escape dropped drastically. His best bet was to catch Smith off guard with an attack and try to run for it.
Alan felt around, grabbing the tire iron and securing it inconspicuously behind his back. The darkness was on his side, as Smith didn't notice the object when he grabbed Alan out of the trunk. Though Alan's hands and feet were still bound, he managed to kick out at Smith's groin and then gut and knock him to the ground when he was halfway out of the trunk. Heaving himself the rest of the way from the trunk, he dropped the tire iron on the man's head hoping to knock him unconscious. With bound hands and feet, it was the best that he could do. Unfortunately, it was all in vain and only served to infuriate Smith. Smith shoved him into the car, knocking Alan's head violently against the open trunk, then pushed him back inside and closed the trunk. Alan heard his footsteps circle around to another door, open and close it, and come back. He struggled wildly, but there was really no point. Smith opened the trunk again, held Alan down with a hand around his throat, and stuck him with another injection.
The second time Alan came to he was bound to a chair. Iron shackles secured his hands and his feet. This time Smith was standing over him when he opened his eyes. The man looked positively insane, he was holding a knife against Alan's throat. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), the shock and fear brought what must have been hours and hours of holding his bladder to a humiliating end right at that moment, but it served the purpose of surprising Smith out of his crazed trance.
"You got piss on my shoes!" He dropped the knife and jumped back from the puddle in disgust. Though Alan was saved from what was surely a more deadly method of torture, Smith came at him again, incensed, knocking him across the face over and over.
Alan wasn't sure how long the beating lasted, but every part of his body screamed out in pain. Finally Smith stopped, "You're lucky I need you alive…for now."
And there it was, he showed his hand. Alan knew he could push his luck now if he needed to, because Smith needed him for something. Probably ransom. Everybody wanted a piece of Jeff Tracy's enormous wealth. He should have known. Alan allowed himself to entertain the thought of the Thunderbirds tracking Smith down for just a moment before another miserable thought washed over him. What if his family didn't come. It wasn't that they couldn't, Alan knew that the Thunderbirds were far more equipped than Smith thought the lowly Tracys were. But what if they DIDN'T. What if this was the chance they had been waiting for. Alan's last thought before the kidnapping had been on his mother, and how he suspected that his family had always wished he had died in her place. They kept him and put up with him out of, what he felt, was a sense of familial obligation. But this was their chance. They could just throw in the towel and console themselves with the thought that they couldn't save him. What was it his father had said, "You can't save everyone."
Alan knew in his heart that his family loved him, but those ever-present negative thoughts in his head just wouldn't stop shouting at him that this was his family's chance to finally be rid of him. And so he battled with himself, his heart trying to tell his head that they would come, that they were looking for him right now. But his head steadfastly and stubbornly insisting that he was all on his own.
In the proceeding hours Alan learned that Smith planned on sending his father video proof of his life. Smith was asking for $20 million dollars in exchange for Alan. Everybody knew that Jeff Tracy was a multi-billionaire, so that was not going to be the problem. The real problem was that Smith had admitted, no, had rubbed it in Alan's face that he had no intention of returning him to his father alive. He would keep him alive only long enough to collect the ransom, then kill Alan while his father watched. This, Smith had determined, would be the ultimate form of payback.
The morning light was just starting to peak through the windows when Smith came in to position him in front of the camera. A gag was slipped into Alan's mouth, which was nearly fatal when paired with a broken nose from his beat down the night before. He was struggling to get oxygen into his body, but more, he was wondering how to get a message to his family. There was no point in them trying to rescue him or gather up the ransom if he was only going to be killed anyhow. Perhaps this was a sign from the universe, Alan thought. He had been struggling against suicidal thoughts for months now. Maybe the whole world was telling him to throw in the towel. He certainly didn't want his family to suffer or be harmed in trying to rescue him. He had warred with himself all night, trying to determine whether or not his family would even want to come, but now he thought it didn't matter what they wanted, it was better for everyone if Smith just killed him.
The video was chilling. The Tracys watched in horror as Alan's face appeared on the screen. He was battered and bruised over every inch of visible skin. His eyes were swollen nearly shut. But he was alive. He moved his head frantically back and forth, obviously he was trying to say no. But no to what, they had no idea. Smith did all the talking, how they loathed his smug and nasal voice. $20 million dollars was nothing. Jeff would pay every penny he had and then some to get his son back safe. But it wasn't going to come to that, they would catch this psychopath before it came to that. Smith gave them a 48 hour deadline to get the funds in order. Jeff wasn't going to wait an agonizing 48 hours, he wanted his son back right now, wanted to hold him and comfort him and feel the weight of his body in his arms, just reassuring Jeff that he was safe.
As he looked around at his other boys he knew he wasn't alone. They were all daunting individuals when they wanted to be, and right now all four of them were radiating fury. The family had always been incredibly protective of each other, but Alan…well, Alan was the baby of the family. There was no height, length, distance, or depth they wouldn't go through for him. Smith had messed with the wrong family, he wasn't going to know what hit him.