33
Thunderbird 5, in high, geosynchronous orbit-
Having launched a passel of recon drones, and ordered Alan the h*ll away from that quarantine site, Jeff Tracy was pretty near stymied. With three sons missing and a wildly expanding emergency on his hands, the Colonel had to tread very carefully. Far from simply malfunctioning, that transport device had apparently opened a link between the deep ocean, and one of Earth's most notorious dead-zones; Manhattan Island. Worse yet, John was there, somewhere, with maybe the Pendergasts, his young grandson, and Gordon.
Scott… was just plain missing. No trace left and no ransom demand. No WorldGov "we regret to inform you" notice, even. Just the gut-wrenching, sick-making sense that his oldest boy was out there alone and in trouble.
Alan, at least, had called in, while Virgil was headed for Pacifica City with Lee Taylor. Safe enough for the moment, both of them, if worried sick and busting for answers.
Doctor Reeves was down for the count, meanwhile (an ancient reference, that one; prize-fights had long since been outlawed as divisive and overly violent). He'd been hospitalized in guarded condition, and could offer no help, at all. Brains was understandably reluctant to dust off his own version of Tycho's stepping disk, for fear of creating another set of linked holes. As for the Chaos Crew… nobody knew for certain, but scuttlebutt said they'd been killed; blown to bits by the Mechanic, of all people. Either way, paid in full for the damage they'd caused.
Right. Jeff would have given a lot to have some solid deck underfoot to pace, or one of his desktop executive toys to manipulate. H*ll, someone to talk to. Eos, even. How, he wondered, did John manage, up here alone?
Beside the point, he supposed; switching comm settings for someone he truly did not want to open up to. Except, there was no choice but to face the snake's head, so... Coded line, priority signal, which oddly enough went through the first time.
Jeff squared his shoulders as the WorldGov star-and-plow symbol flashed up on one of his floating holo-screens; blue, white and golden. Then, Chancellor Shaw picked up, smiling as blandly as ever.
"Good afternoon, Colonel Tracy," he said, almost purring. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this contact?"
Sebastian Shaw was tall and broad, with an athlete's powerful build, and a spider's intricate mind. Well over six feet in height, with dark hair and pale eyes, he exuded icy menace.
"Good afternoon, Chancellor," Jeff responded warily, one hand on a nearby instrument panel as a way to control his own drift. "This isn't a social call. I'll get right to the point. Doctor Reeves' transport device has created some kind of wormhole effect, and we're not yet sure how to shut the thing down. I've got people on site, but we're going to need backup. As many subs as you can muster, Sir… And, uh… I need to ask for an honest response, here, Sebastian… Have you taken my sons?"
Thunderbird 5 was a noisy place at the best of times, having always a low background rumble, along with her beeping and humming life support system; the whole thing shot through by the constant, ghostly hiss of incoming messages. Now, though, Jeff shut it all out, watching nothing but Chancellor Shaw's image, there on its hovering screen.
The other man started to speak. Only, his expression changed. Something about those hooded grey eyes altered. Then, he said,
"My dear Colonel, had I wished to apprehend your sons, I should have done so with far less extravagant drama. You and your brood are wildly popular; lauded and beloved by the grubby masses you persist in aiding. To arrest any one of you publicly would amount to political suicide… and I am only telling you this because I am being controlled. In my own mind, I believe myself to be speaking deceptive words in order to mask my ambitions."
Uh-huh. Jeff felt very cold, all of a sudden.
"Who am I talking to?" he demanded, dreading the Hood's chilly voice. But the man only smiled, shaking somebody else's darkly handsome head.
"One who will make a very bad enemy, Colonel," he answered evasively. "One who means to put an end to this vermin-led chaos, once and for all." Then, cocking Shaw's heavy left eyebrow, he issued a warning. "You are marked, Colonel; all of you. Be advised that your rogue Kane cannot save you, Tracy, for he will be next."
Keep him on the line, thought Jeff, placing an energy trace on that scary d*mn call. Who knew? Maybe Brains 'd be able to find…
"…a team, of course, working together for the public weal," Shaw continued, as though nothing at all had just happened. Completely unaware that he'd been seized and controlled like a puppet. "The world joins you in moving heaven and earth to locate your stalwart young sons, Jeff."
Drivel and platitudes, concealing the drive to control International Rescue, and everything else. Taking a deep breath, Jeff managed to fake a smile.
"I… thank you, Sir. That's good to hear, and… Uh-oh. Incoming message," he lied, reaching for the main comm switch. "Sorry, Chancellor, I've got to go."
So saying, Jeff Tracy shut off that haunted line and just drifted, wondering what in the h*ll he was supposed to do, now.