Sorry it has taken a while to get this updated. There is no guarantee the next will be any quicker - real life has well and truly got in the way - but it will always be coming!
I hope you enjoy this next chapter!
Jeff sat quietly as he watched his sons eat. Wires surrounded them from where they had been tweaking the security system.
Although they'd had reservations at one of the nearby restaurants, Jeff was in no mood to leave the apartment. He was trying to build up the courage to tell the boys about Blag, but every time he looked at their faces, he swallowed his words. For the first time in days, Scott looked relaxed - as if he wasn't about to snap at anyone who dared to breathe too loudly.
Jeff was fully aware that once he opened his mouth, that relaxed look would vanish.
It wasn't just Scott. The oldest brother was the one suffering from the nightmares now, but Virgil had taken years to get over them initially. This would dig up old fears for both of his boys and Jeff wasn't ready to see their faces when they learnt the truth.
Jeff knew that he had to say something - he had to warn them – but first he wanted to have time with his sons without the shadow of the past (and future) hanging over them.
Matt had reassured him that the whole police department were on high alert, keeping watch over the streets of New York in case there was any sign. Not that they expected there to be, however. Blag had no reason to risk the city, not when he didn't know the Tracys were there. Considering Jeff had no intention of letting the boys leave that evening, they were perfectly safe. He might have pressed them to hurry up installing the upgrades to the security system, but other than that, Jeff forced himself to relax.
This evening, he would just be with his boys. In the morning, he would change their worlds.
Both Scott and Virgil had looked surprised when their father announced they were ordering take-out instead of heading out, but Jeff had lied and said that he was tired. It had taken all of his control not to flinch under the look Virgil gave him, knowing he had just concerned his son by admitting that he wasn't feeling one hundred percent.
But Jeff knew that he would take any examination his son wanted to give him if it meant keeping them safe. Not to mention, they didn't get the chance for a Chinese often on the island, especially as his mother generally insisted on them eating healthy meals considering they needed to be fit for duty at all times. Jeff had only to pull out some menus and he had watched their eyes light up, knowing there would be no further protests.
"Wonder if John has killed Gords yet?" Virgil mused, sprawling across the floor as he lazily reached for a prawn cracker. Scott looked down at him, eyebrows raised in amusement, but it didn't escape Jeff's notice that he nudged the packet slightly closer to his brother so that Virgil's searching fingers could reach.
"Are you kidding? They'll probably have completely taken over the island! I swear those two together are worse than the kids, and that includes Gordon and Alan dragging poor Fermat into the mix. Don't underestimate John."
"I won't… I have bad memories of underestimating him. Pass me the noodles, would you?"
"How about you get off your lazy ass and get them yourself?"
"But you're closer..." Virgil whined, trying to stretch for them but ending up lying across the floor.
"Virgil, sit up," Jeff scolded lightly, even though his eyes were sparkling. "You can't possibly eat like that."
"I can," Virgil protested, shooting his father a hurt look as if Jeff was doubting his ability. His father responded by rolling his eyes and pulling the noodles out of both sons' reach with a pointed look. Virgil huffed but sat up and Jeff slid them back. The light bantering continued as they finished off, and just like always, Jeff marvelled at how much his sons could eat. But as their conversation turned to International Rescue and more serious matters, Jeff sighed, his light-hearted mood fading away.
Eventually, he made an excuse and stood up. Leaving the boys where they were, he slipped out onto the small balcony that overlooked the city. Despite the constant rush of traffic and lights below him, Jeff didn't notice. He couldn't appreciate the sights when his mind was preoccupied.
How was he supposed to tell them that their worst nightmare was coming true and this time, there wouldn't be anyone to wake them up? Not until Blag was back behind bars and they knew that he wouldn't be after them again. For all he knew, the maniac had run in the opposite direction, but until he knew for sure, Jeff couldn't relax.
Pulling out his phone, he switched from father to businessman. It was getting late, but he knew he would be able to get through to his contacts. It wouldn't take much to rearrange his meetings so that they were all the next day. It would be non-stop, but at least that meant they could fly out tomorrow night and return to the safety of the island.
Half an hour later, he had made all his calls and shivered slightly as he hung up. The evenings here were cooler than he was used to, but he couldn't risk going inside and for one of his sons to start questioning why he was rescheduling everything. With a small huff of laughter, Jeff wondered how they would react when he told them that they couldn't leave the penthouse. Scott's appointment would have to be rescheduled as well - or they would have to fly someone out to the island. There was no way Jeff was letting him go across town, even if Virgil was with him. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help it. He had lost him once; he wasn't doing it again.
Just as he made to go back in, the door slid open and Scott came out to join him.
"Dad, what's going on?" he murmured quietly and Jeff stared at him in surprise. Scott met his gaze steadily.
"You might be fooling Virgil, but damnit, Dad, you're not fooling me. You're hiding something. You have been since we arrived. What's happened?"
Jeff sighed, turning back to the world below him as he rested his elbows on the railings and stared down to the ever-flowing traffic. He should have known that he wouldn't be able to hide it from them. The family was just too close - they had to be, living in on an island and doing the kind of work they did.
"Dad, c'mon, just tell me. Virg doesn't have to know if you don't want, but something is bugging you, isn't it?"
Jeff took a deep breath, forcing himself to turn and face his son. Scott looked like he was going to say something else and then caught the look on his father's face and snapped his mouth shut. Jeff could feel the weight of what he was about to say crushing down on him as he put a hand on Scott's shoulder.
"I heard from John," he said softly and he could see the fear beginning to work its way into Scott's eyes. Scott knew by his father's behaviour that whatever John had said had been bad news and was clearly worried about his brothers. Jeff gripped his shoulder reassuringly.
"Everyone's alright, Scott. But John had been watching the news, and then did some digging afterwards."
"Dad, what are you trying to say?" Scott asked quietly and Jeff looked him straight in the eye.
"There was a break out from Leavenworth, son."
Scott stumbled back before Jeff could say anything more, shaking his head. But Jeff could tell by the look on Scott's face that he knew where this was going.
"He…"
"He's out, son."
"No."
"Scotty…"
"No. Just no! He can't be." It was Scott's turn to face the railings this time and Jeff winced when he saw that Scott's knuckles had turned white with the force with which he was holding on. Despite wanting to reassure Scott, Jeff knew there was nothing he could say. His son wasn't a terrified teenager anymore; he was a man who dealt with the world's problems when no one else could. He had to come to terms with this by himself.
Jeff could see Scott's mind racing as he clearly tried to deny what he had just been told while knowing, deep down, that it was the truth.
"How can he be out? How could this have happened?" Despite the sentence starting as a whisper, it ended in a yell and Scott slammed the palm of his hand against the railing, causing the whole thing to rattle and for his father to take an involuntary step away from the edge.
"He had help. He wasn't the only prisoner to be broken out, another two escaped. Matt has the details; the whole city is on alert. He's not going to get close, I doubt he will even come to New York…"
"That's why you didn't want to go out for dinner, isn't it? It was nothing to do with you but because of this?"
"I was just trying to do the right thing…"
"How can you be so sure he isn't coming here if you wouldn't even let us go out somewhere crowded and safe?"
Jeff winced at the harsh note to Scott's voice and knew it was just because his son was angry and scared. Scott hadn't admitted to being afraid since he was a teenager and Jeff knew he wasn't about to start again now. After all, this was the same son who had hidden the fact that he was having nightmares from his own father because he didn't want him believing that he couldn't cope.
He opened his mouth to say something, but his gaze was drawn inside. He swallowed hard.
"Scott, where's your brother?"
Jeff thought Scott had been pale before but he was forced to steady the young man as he went deathly white. Jeff swore, yanking open the door as he did so. He should have thought of it before - it wasn't like Virgil to leave them out there alone without checking at least once, especially considering Jeff had admitted to being more tired than normal.
"Virgil?"
There was no answer, but Jeff had already been preparing himself for that. He turned to find that Scott had followed him in.
"Where is he?"
"He said something about needing a coke," Scott whispered. This time, it wasn't just his eyes that showed his fear, his whole face was etched with it. He took a step towards the door, but Jeff stopped him.
"I don't need two of you out there."
"You said that he wasn't coming here, that he wouldn't..."
"Let's… just not take any chances, okay?" Jeff gave Scott a pointed look as he pulled out his phone, telling his son to stay put. Scott chewed on his lip anxiously, but didn't seem to be about to move as Jeff once again put in a call.
But when a cell started ringing inside the apartment, father and son looked at each other before glancing at the coffee table. Virgil had left his phone behind. Jeff swore and dialled another number.
"Matt? I need a favour… You said that your boys are roaming the streets just in case? Do you think you can get someone to pick up Virgil and bring him back here?"
"Have you told him?"
"No. Scott knows, Virgil doesn't. He left before I knew he was gone. I know you said that it would be okay, but just in case? Please?"
"Have you tried his watch?"
Jeff blinked. He had been so caught up in his panic that he hadn't considered that phones were not the only technology at their disposal. Matt understood his silence and pressed on reassuringly.
"You're at the penthouse right? I've got a couple of boys patrolling that area, they'll bring him back. Jeff, it's going to be okay. The worst you're going to get tonight is Virgil demanding to know why he can't even walk down the street without being escorted back, you understand me?"
"Thanks, Matt. And when you've finished breaking the speed limit to get home to Nicole and the kids to make sure that everything is okay, call me back?" Jeff hung up even as Matt spluttered his protests.
"Watch," Jeff said, his racing heart not letting him say anything else. Scott shook his head, indicating where they had been working on the security system. Virgil's watch was amongst the wiring with the back off.
"He wanted to try and link it up," Scott whispered. While Jeff normally marvelled at his son's engineering talents, he groaned. Now was not the time for being out of contact. If only he had told them straight away…
Seeing the look on Scott's face, he took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together.
"Virgil would have only gone a couple of blocks at the most. Try not to worry, Scott. There is no reason for anything to be out of the ordinary - you could just say that I'm being paranoid."
"And you could say that it is rubbing off," Scott muttered, sitting back down on the couch and resting his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. Jeff slowly sat down next to him.
"After all of this time, Dad? How can he be out now, it doesn't make any sense!"
"I know. But he won't be for long. The whole country is on high alert looking for him, how far do you think he is going to be able to get?"
"Depends who his contacts are," Scott muttered, his grip twisting until he had a tight hold on his hair. "We should know better than anyone that it doesn't take a hell of a lot to stay invisible, not if you've got the right people working for you."
"Slow down, Scott. The police are surrounding us and they're out looking for him. We'll be here for twenty-four hours at the most, twelve if I can make it work, and then we are going back home. It doesn't matter how many contacts he has, he can't reach us there. Not to mention John will probably have all of the answers for us by the time that we get back and be anonymously tipping off the police. I know it is easier said than done, but try not to worry, Scott."
"That would be so much easier if you weren't so worried that you won't even let us leave the apartment, Dad."
Jeff had no answer for that and just stayed where he was even as Scott stood up and started pacing. Jeff felt his leg start to bounce, a habit he had been forced to cure himself of when he had started in the business world. He clenched his muscles, forcing the limb to stay still. It wouldn't matter what he said to Scott if his body language gave away how he was truly feeling.
He was certain that everything was fine: Blag wouldn't have had time to get to New York considering he was being hunted.
Still… he would much rather that Virgil was back in the penthouse where he could keep an eye on him.
TBTBTB
Virgil shivered in the night air as he headed back towards the apartment. Scott was hiding something – there had been a strange look on his face all evening. Virgil had tried asking, but Scott had just shaken his head and continued to stare out at the balcony where their father had been making his calls. Frustrated at being shut out, Virgil had suddenly realised how much he needed some air. It was one thing living on an island with his entire family, but staying in a penthouse when the one closest to you was clearly hiding something was another matter entirely. He had muttered something about needing a drink and left.
He wasn't even sure Scott had noticed – he had just continued watching their father. Virgil hoped that the fresh air would grant him insight into what was going through his brother's mind.
Now, he wished he hadn't been so hasty, or had at least thought of putting a jacket on. The man in the store had given him a peculiar look as he had bought his drink, but Virgil was used to it. For a family who kept themselves out of the public eye as much as possible, people seemed to have a pretty good idea about what they looked like. Lucky, there had been someone behind him in the queue and the owner had had no choice but to continue to serve rather than piecing together where he knew Virgil from.
He had drunk his drink as he walked along, without truly noticing he was doing it. It seemed strange being in New York. Apart from the odd stay here and there, Virgil had never lived in such a busy city. They had lived on the outskirts of their town in Kansas, their house having more land than those surrounding them. Virgil had never really thought about it at the time, but now he was grateful for it. At least they had had space to get away from each other when they were growing up, for five boys under one roof wasn't easy. But although he had done a few years in Denver before heading to the island, New York always felt like another country when he came here.
It made him glad that his father had chosen the island for their home. Virgil couldn't help but wonder how different they would be if they had experienced more of city life than the peace of the island. The elder three maybe not so much, but Virgil had a feeling that Gordon would have been a very different person if this was where he had spent the later years of his teens. He might be a prankster, but Virgil knew his military training and the tranquillity of the island had calmed him down considerably compared to how he might have been if they had stayed here.
Virgil was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the police car coast past him, stop and then reverse back up the street until it was level with him.
"Tracy?"
Virgil jumped, turning as the window was rolled down and a friendly face looked out at him. For a wild moment, he wanted to say it wasn't him and he hadn't done anything, but then he knew he was being irrational. He nodded, not moving any closer until he knew what they wanted.
"We're under orders to give you a lift back, buddy. Your old man is freaking out about something and our superior wants us to pick you up. Get in."
The man lent back and opened the rear door, but Virgil didn't move.
"Let me talk to your superior."
While he knew that in general, police were to be trusted, Virgil had had more than one bad experience with cops who were supposed to be helping him and he couldn't help but be on his guard. The two officers glanced at each other before one nodded, switching on a radio and giving a few codes before offering it out to Virgil. The artist glanced around before taking a step forward, knowing the cord wouldn't reach any further. He had just touched the button when a voice was talking to him.
"Virg?"
"Matt? What the hell is going on? Why does Dad want me back like this? All I went to do was get a drink!"
"I'm sorry, I haven't got time to explain - nor is it my place to do so. These boys will get you back though, Virg, I can promise you that. Just get in the car."
"Fine," Virgil grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But you owe me a drink for being so cryptic."
He handed the radio back and climbed into the car. Whatever was wrong with his father, Matt knew about it. There hadn't been the usual cheerful note in his voice. Instead, he had sounded the way he did when they were talking about International Rescue and Matt was fulfilling his role as an agent. Something was going on and Virgil was determined to find out what it was.
Shutting the door, he ignored the officers talking quietly together as the car headed back towards the penthouse. Virgil knew that it would have been just as quick to walk, but he also knew that when his father had made up his mind about something, then there was no stopping him. If these officers were under orders to get him back, then Virgil knew that they would do so no matter how much he argued. So instead, the artist just stared out of the window, mind working over different things he could say to his father to tell him how annoyed he was. They could have just called him! Intending to call Scott and find out what was going on, Virgil put his hand in his pocket and groaned. It was only now he realised he had left his cell sitting on the side.
"What the hell-?"
The low mutter drew Virgil's attention even as the car came to a smooth stop. Virgil lent forward in his seat to peer through the windshield and frowned when he saw that a car was parked across the street, totally blocking it. He sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the door.
"I'll walk from here, guys. Look, you can see the building, you've still technically done your job. I'll be fine."
"Don't get out of the car!"
Virgil started in surprise, drawing his hand away from the handle again. It wasn't the words, but it was the fear in the officer's voice. Something told Virgil that even these two officers knew what was going on and he was getting annoyed that he seemed to be the only one who didn't know. The driver slammed the car into reverse, but there was a hideous screech of metal as another car came up behind them, blocking the way out. Despite not knowing what was happening, Virgil felt his heart begin to pound uncomfortably hard. Whatever it was, it seemed to be serious.
"On second thoughts, get ready to run!"
"Why? What's happening?" Virgil cried. But the man who had addressed him was too busy making sure that his weapon was loaded and taking aim out of the window. Virgil twisted to see out of the back and knew instantly that one gun was not going to be enough. He could see at least five pointing their way, and knew that the same would be at the front as well. Knowing there was no choice, Virgil reached for his watch.
Then he swore violently, phrases that he would never dare utter if his grandmother had been around. His watch was upstairs, in pieces due to his attempt to tweak the security system.
A volley of gunfire drew his attention. Virgil realised that he had no way of contacting Scott, and it was a strange feeling he didn't like.
"Get down!"
"I can help!" Virgil yelled, twisting automatically into a more defensive stance. They might generally be known as the playboy sons of Jeff Tracy, but that didn't mean he was going to keep up the pretence when his life was in danger. The officers didn't answer, both taking aim themselves as bullets ricocheted off the side of the car. Virgil ducked as the back window smashed but found himself swearing when the car door he had been trying to get towards suddenly dented in more than one place. Virgil knew it meant some of the gunmen were approaching the car and that their shots were gaining more force the closer they got.
But just as suddenly as the shots had started, they stopped again. Virgil, his heart thudding in his chest, turned to the front of the car. His mind was already telling him what he would see, for there was only one reason why the two men would have stopped firing back. Virgil swore, shutting his eyes for a moment when he saw them both slumped over, totally still. He shook his head, anger filling him. It was the same sort of anger he felt at a rescue when someone slipped from his grasp, that feeling that he should have been able to save them if he had just moved that little bit quicker.
Keeping low, Virgil managed to edge forward and clumsily grasped for a gun. He grimaced as he felt blood coating one, but managed to get a grip on it. The fact the shooting had stopped unnerved him. They either didn't know he was here and thought they had got their targets.
Or they knew precisely who was in the back of the car and Virgil was their target.
While part of him desperately hoped it was the former, Virgil couldn't help feeling it was more likely to be the latter.
His thoughts were only confirmed when the back door opened just as he was trying to move back to his seat. Virgil didn't have time to turn as a hand grabbed his belt and effectively dragged him out of the car. He winced as he hit the pavement, but he instantly rolled, kicking out and driving his feet into the stomach of his attacker. The man stumbled back and Virgil moved as fast as he could, placing the car between him and the man.
"You can't beat us, boy! Come out." Virgil didn't move, just checked how many rounds he had left, resisting the urge to bang his head against the car when he realised that it was only one. A face loomed over the car as one of the men approached him and Virgil had fired before he knew what he was doing. Groaning, he flipped the gun around, wondering if he could use it as a club as he started edging along the ground to try and see the penthouse.
All he could properly see were the boots of the men as they surrounded the car. Even from the angle he was at, Virgil was certain there were at least ten of them. What was he supposed to do against odds like that? Though he didn't have time to worry about why such odds were there in the first place: staying alive was the priority.
Virgil knew he had to move. They were closing in on him right now and he wasn't sure he could hold out until the cops arrived. So while the men were muttering to each other, Virgil rose from a crouch and simply ran.
He got past the first couple before they knew he was moving, but the third reacted in time. His hand shot out as Virgil raced past, catching the artist by the wrist and almost flinging him back down again. Virgil skidded, but managed to just about keep his footing as he lashed out with the gun. The man howled as his nose broke, but he didn't loosen his grip on the struggling Tracy. Virgil pulled for all he was worth and let out his own hiss of pain as his wrist protested the strain. He finally wrenched free, stumbling as he tried to get away.
The others had realised that he was fleeing and closed in even as Virgil moved away, the gun slipping from his hand. He was surrounded again before he had gone more than a few steps, and although several of the men would have bruises later on from where Virgil had fought back for all he was worth, it was over in moments. While he had been distracted by one, another had simply moved up behind him and grabbed his wrist. One fierce wrench had Virgil's arm up behind his back and he was almost doubled in half from where he was trying to stop his assailant from dislocating his shoulder. Slowly, Virgil was forced down to his knees.
"Who are you?" he gasped, still trying to get free despite knowing that it was hopeless.
"Doesn't matter," the man grunted, exerting more pressure as he forced Virgil over. While Virgil was struggling to maintain his balance, he felt his other arm being seized and also pulled behind his back, wincing as they were bound there, the restraints harshly tight. "What matters is that you are coming with us."
"Don't think so," Virgil spat, trying to get to his feet as he spoke. Flashing lights advanced from the end of the street and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief – the cops had arrived. But the men were clearly expecting them as an order was grunted and some of the men moved forward to delay the police. Virgil made to kick out when he felt the cold barrel of a gun being placed against his neck.
"You don't get a say in it," the man snarled.
Virgil tried to pull away and the grip on the gun was shifted. He saw people approaching, but that was all when the gun crashed into his head and he hit the floor, conscious fleeing from him. The last thing he saw was his attacker's boots closing in around him before darkness overwhelmed him and he knew no more.