Sorry once again for the late update. Thanks to everyone who's sticking with this story - I really do appreciate it. Whirlgirl, you really should write that Parker/Rosie story!
Chapter Twenty-One
This, thought Virgil Tracy, had to be one of his more unusual experiences. He wasn't ever going to enjoy being a captive, that was for sure, but the fear and tension which usually accompanied such an event weren't quite as sharp this time, the absolute faith he had in his brother giving him the certainty that Scott would be somewhere near, watching and waiting and ready to step in should anything unpleasant be about to happen to his brother.
That didn't seem likely to happen any time soon. Virgil had been escorted out of the police station by the man he knew to be Eric Younger and a second man who, despite his suit and tie, looked barely old enough to have left school, let alone be a member of MI5. They'd swiftly hustled him into a large, official-looking black car, where he'd been handcuffed to the door handle then basically ignored for the next twenty minutes as they drove through London.
Gazing out of the window at the dreary, rain-sodden streets, the last of the snow long-gone, Virgil did his best to get his thoughts in order. He had to remember that he wasn't supposed to know who his captor really was, nor that he was actively involved in the kidnapping of several important members of society. He couldn't give away his knowledge of Sahara's involvement, either. Nor could he react in any way as a member of International Rescue might - no, he was simply Virgil Tracy, billionaire's son, falsely accused of kidnap, bemused and angry at his transfer from the custody of the police to that of the secret service.
He'd protested his innocence as soon as they'd got him into the car, for form's sake if nothing else, then sat back in sullen silence as they laughed and told him that everyone said that, but that MI5 had some highly effective if unpleasant methods of extracting information. Well, Virgil had thought, in that case it was just as well that they weren't MI5, but it seemed as though they were keeping up as much of a pretence as he was - for the time being, at least.
"Here we are," the boy said, pulling into a deserted side-road and parking next to a Land Rover.
"This isn't the MI5 building," Virgil said. Not that he'd expected to be taken there. No, it looked as though he was about to be transferred to a different vehicle. Well, that might work to confuse the police once they discovered they'd been duped, but with the edible transmitter doing its job it wouldn't be an issue for Scott. "What's going on?"
"Shut up," Younger ordered, leaning back to check that Virgil was still safely cuffed to the door before taking out a syringe and jabbing him in the neck before he could do more than splutter the barest beginnings of a protest. Virgil blinked in confusion a couple of times then slumped back in his seat, much to Eric Younger's satisfaction.
Virgil was dragged out of the car and slung into the back of the Land Rover. Younger was confident they'd be back at the Kent farmhouse long before the sleeping drug wore off, but remembering how Virgil's brother had escaped at the Dog and Duck, he cuffed his captive's hands together, just to be sure.
Announcing that he'd drive this time, he got into the vehicle and sat behind the wheel for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
What exactly was Sahara up to? She'd always had her secrets - as had he - but there was something different this time. Their relationship had always been flexible, but over the last few months she'd definitely been more distant. He sometimes got the feeling she was humouring him, keeping him on-side for her own convenience. Not that he'd really minded - after all, he hadn't exactly been faithful himself, but if he didn't demand loyalty and honesty in a relationship, he did put an importance on it when it came to a mission. He didn't like feeling used and he didn't like not knowing the full picture. They were supposed to be working for the General but Sahara clearly had her own agenda. Her obsession with Lady Penelope and the Tracys worried him. He recalled how furious she'd been when Sebastian had told her that his men had left Jeff Tracy behind at Westminster Abbey. It wasn't just a case of the lost ransom money, he thought. There had definitely been another reason behind it. Younger was looking forward to getting his share of the payout, even if a chunk of it would have to be spent on yet more plastic surgery. It had been a risk going into the police station without any disguise, but there hadn't been much time, not with the real MI5 likely to get involved at any moment, and there had been paperwork to forge and a car to steal. And all that trouble for what? He knew Sahara had had a thing for Scott, but was this really just to get her hands on the eldest of the five brothers? If it was, why on earth was he helping her? Surely this whole scheme was complicated enough as it was?
He frowned for a moment wondering if Sahara had got Sebastian Swayne to hypnotise him into doing her bidding. No, he thought. She'd know better than that. He'd kill her - and Swayne - if they tried anything along those lines.
But how would he know? What if he'd been programmed to end it all like Parker if he stopped being useful?
No. Sahara wouldn't dare. He was helping her of his own free will - because life without risk and excitement was worthless. That was why he'd joined MI5 in the first place, though his loyalties had changed many times over the past ten years. Now he worked for the General, a man who didn't take failure lightly. Was Sahara planning to double-cross him in some way? If she was then she must be crazy. Not a lot scared Eric Younger, but the prospect of the General's vengeance certainly did. Was that why she was keeping him in the dark? To protect him? So that he wouldn't betray her? Or was he being set up as a scapegoat?
"We moving any time soon?"
Younger jumped. He'd forgotten all about Zac. Looking sideways at the boy he wondered why he'd got himself mixed up in all this. Probably just helping out his father, a hardened criminal and a man whose services Younger had used several times in the past. Not any more, though. Both father and son would be killed once they had done all that was needed. He didn't want any witnesses left behind. He wished Sebastian Swayne could share the same fate, but the General had taken a liking to the man, and Younger had to admit that his abilities were useful, if more than a little disturbing.
Shaking his head in frustration he started the engine. He'd get Virgil Tracy back to the farmhouse, see if Swayne had finished programming Prince Louis, then contact Sahara and demand to know exactly what she had in mind. And if she didn't tell him, well, maybe she wouldn't be getting her hands on another Tracy after all...
In the back of the Land Rover Virgil did his best not to flinch as he was jolted around, unable to brace himself against the movement of the vehicle in case his captors realised he was still conscious. It had been something of a surprise to him to realise that whatever Younger had injected him with had had absolutely no effect. That edible transmitter must have been one of the latest versions, he thought, one which included an antidote to a variety of sedatives and knock-out drugs. Useful, indeed, if one wanted to lull one's captors into a false sense of security before making a break for it, but being handcuffed was going to make things much more difficult. Still, Scott was bound to have some laser-cutters with him if they couldn't get the keys from Eric Younger. Everything was going to be fine - after all, it was time their luck changed. Wasn't it...?
He was distracted from gloomy thoughts of all the ways this plan could backfire when Younger turned the radio on. The Archbishop of Canterbury's release had finally been made public and the man was giving a press conference, having been interrogated long and hard by the police for the past few hours. He regretted that he hadn't had too much information to give them, having been unconscious for most of the time, but he offered his thanks to his captors for his safe release, spoke for several minutes on the need for forgiveness and acceptance of every member of society, however great their sins, then ended with a plea to the kidnappers for the safe return of the rest of the hostages.
Younger laughed. "Not much hope of that," he muttered. "Not all of them, anyway."
Virgil felt a sudden jolt of fear. Did that mean him? Or Penny? He hoped the journey would soon be at an end - he'd rather know what lay ahead than be wondering.
Two hours later, with Virgil gritting his teeth against the cramp which was forming in his left leg, they pulled into the lane which led to the farmhouse. It was then that the radio presenter announced that they were going across to their newsroom following some dramatic developments in the kidnapping case.
We understand that the son of American astronaut and billionaire businessman Jefferson Tracy has been arrested in connection with the kidnappings. Virgil Tracy was a guest at the wedding and is a close friend of Lady Penelope Warrington-Farr. The Metropolitan Police have refused to comment, but our source informs us that Mr Tracy was arrested in the early hours of this morning and is currently being questioned in connection with the case. We'll bring you more on this story as we have it. Now back to Darren in the studio...
Younger, having driven into one of the outbuildings, turned off the engine, cutting the broadcast and glanced back at Virgil. "Well, that broke fast," he said. "I wonder if they know he's gone missing again. Hey, Zac, you can add harbouring a fugitive to your list of crimes."
Zac grunted something unintelligible. He'd regretted his involvement in this from the moment he'd discovered Ken Mantle dying in the cellar. He couldn't wait for it all to be over.
"I need you to guard Tracy for a few minutes," Younger told him. "Don't worry, he'll be out for a while yet. I'll send your dad down to help you get him into the cellar. Guy's heavy, must work out.
With that, he jumped out of the Land Rover and trudged across the muddy path to the farmhouse. Zac got out of the vehicle and moved a few paces away, lighting himself a cigarette and pacing back and forth in an attempt to keep himself warm. It was freezing in the old stone building.
The sound of moaning startled him. He glanced across at the body sprawled in the back of the Land Rover. Whereas Virgil had been still and silent before, now he was moving. Well, let him. Zac wasn't going anywhere near another hostage, not without back-up.
Only when Virgil began to make choking noises and thrash violently around did he move. This was too much like the way Ken Mantle had died and Zac didn't want another man's life on his conscience. He'd just turn Tracy over and check he was okay. His father would be there in a minute anyway, and then the pressure would be off.
Of course, it didn't quite work out that way. As he turned Virgil over, the man sat up, kicked out and brought his cuffed hands down on Zac's head. The boy went down without a sound.
"One down," Virgil muttered, wincing as the feeling began to come back into his leg. He made a perfunctory search of Zac's pockets, although he knew Eric Younger had pocketed the handcuff keys. Finding nothing useful, not even a phone, he decided he'd better move the boy out of sight. After all, someone else would be along at any moment.
It wasn't an easy job with his hands cuffed together and Virgil wished Scott would choose that moment to put in an appearance. A door at the end of the building looked promising and he dropped Zac in a heap next to it before yanking it open then taking a step inside what appeared to be a storeroom.
Only to stumble back out again looking several shades paler than he had previously.
He hadn't expected to encounter a corpse Not that he wasn't used to dead bodies - often in far worse condition than this one - but it had still been an unpleasant surprise. So much for the Archbishop of Canterbury's assertion that his kidnappers were men of honour who had treated their captives well. The anxiety he felt for Penny went up another notch.
The sound of a voice calling for Zac got him moving again and he shoved the boy in with Ken Mantle's body before shutting the door and sliding the bolt across. Then he darted across to the main door grabbing a short plank of wood he found on the way and waited for the next kidnapper to arrive.
Two minutes later and Zac and his father were reunited, although when they regained consciousness they probably wouldn't be too happy to find themselves shut inside a freezing cold room with a corpse. But, Virgil thought, it served them right - and if he had his way, they'd soon have even more company.
He wondered whether to wait for Scott - his brother couldn't be too far behind, surely - then decided that Younger would probably be along sooner rather than later, wondering what was keeping his accomplices. He didn't want to risk the alarm being raised, especially not when he had no idea how many more adversaries were in the house. He just hoped one of them was Sahara - he owed her for a great many things, not least for taking a bullet in the back from her. It would be rather satisfying to have brought the woman down by the time Scott arrived. Anyway, even if she wasn't there, the hostages had waited long enough for rescue, it was time they were put out of their misery.
Sneaking over to the house, he tried the door. It swung open and he slipped inside. All seemed quiet. A man's voice could be faintly heard from a room further along, and Virgil took a few steps forward until he reached the door.
What he heard he found utterly bewildering. He recognised the voice of Prince Louis and guessed that he was reading out some demands from the kidnappers, but the ransom seemed utterly unbelievable.
"The Rembrandt, the Gainsboroughs, the royal sceptre and the Kohinoor diamond. You have five hours to comply. My host will be in touch."
There was a brief pause, then another man spoke, his voice soft.
"Well done, Your Highness. You know, I'd love to see the reaction of the police when they receive that message. Your brother, too. Still, I'm sure the King values your life above that of a few trinkets. Now then, let's go through your orders one last time: you will forget all about me upon your release. You will return to public life suffering no ill-effects from the time you have spent here, in fact you will praise your hosts for their courtesy and benevolence. Do you understand?"
The Prince replied that he did.
Virgil wondered if Parker had been through some similar kind of conditioning. He wanted to burst in and interrupt this brainwashing, but fear of the consequences stopped him. Maybe he'd do more harm than good. If only he'd been a few minutes earlier he might have been able to prevent the ransom demand being sent. Still, at least now there would be no need to lose the most valuable of the crown jewels or to dismantle the royal art collection. He grimaced, imagining Inspector Garland's face as he heard the terms of the ransom. Priceless artwork? He'd see that as yet another sign that Virgil was involved. Well, the middle Tracy looked forward to proving his innocence.
The creak of a stair made him start and he slipped into an alcove as Eric Younger appeared. Oblivious to Virgil's presence, he moved to the end of the hallway, opened a door and made his way down a flight of stairs.
"Zac? Ian?"
You won't find them down there, Virgil thought, moving quickly to the stairs, running lightly down them and grabbing Younger by the throat from behind. "I do work out," he told the man, making light work of Younger's attempts to fight him off. When he'd finally choked the man into unconsciousness he let him slip to the ground then took a look at the door which was heavily fortified with locks and bolts.
Another rescue, he thought, unfastening everything then swinging the door open. Penny, I hope you're in there.
But only two very surprised and relieved men greeted him. Irving Ross shook his hand warmly, fully aware of his identity and his membership of International Rescue. Simon however was utterly confused. He'd only ever known Virgil as the artistic and musical friend of his wife's and Virgil wasn't about to enlighten him, not when there were more important matters to worry about.
"Where's Penny?"
"Some woman took her away." Simon told him.
"Sahara," Irving Ross said, unsurprised when Virgil simply nodded.
"I don't know all the details, but Scott's on his way and he'll be able to tell us more," he said, registering Simon's jerk of the head at the mention of his brother's name. "I've got two men locked up in a barn outside and there's one upstairs with Prince Louis. Any more?"
"That's all I know of," Irving told him, searching Eric Younger's pockets and pulling out a key which he used to get the handcuffs off a grateful Virgil. "Good work."
"I found Ken Mantle's body," Virgil said. "What happened to him?"
"Heart, I think," Ross told him. "Penny managed to get away in all the confusion but they caught her."
Virgil was pleased to hear that his friend hadn't lost all her spirit. Maybe she'd get through this after all.
"Guess I'd better get the guy upstairs, then. Will he put up a fight?"
He was surprised when Irving Ross laughed. "He won't give you any trouble. Just don't look into his eyes."
He was right. Sebastian Swayne had been all bluster for about thirty seconds when Virgil and the other two had burst in, rousing Prince Louis from a sound sleep as they did so. It hadn't taken more than a threatening glare from Virgil to have Swayne cowering in a corner.
Ten minutes later, Swayne, Younger and the other two, all now conscious and full of curses and objections, had taken the place of the hostages in the cellar. Irving Ross had tried to alert the authorities as Virgil and Simon got the kidnappers secured, but the phone was dead, as was Swayne's cellphone.
"Where the hell is Scott?" Virgil had muttered, glancing round the sitting room where Sebastian Swayne had held court. Then something on the desk caught his eye and he moved across to examine it.
"Jammer," he announced, pressing a button. "No wonder Scott hasn't found me yet. I guess they thought Penny might be carrying..." He trailed off, remembering that Simon hadn't known of his wife's previous life.
"They told me," Simon said, more than a little bitterness in his voice. "You too? Am I the only one who isn't a secret agent?"
"Well I'm hardly-" Virgil was just relieved that Simon appeared to know nothing about International Rescue.
"Oh, never mind. How do we get Penelope back? Will that woman return here?"
"Let's hope so," Virgil said. "Mr Ross, can I have a word in private?"
Somewhat surprised, Irving Ross accompanied Virgil out to the kitchen, his frown deepening as he learned of Sahara's discovery and the demands which had followed.
"There's probably more to it," Virgil told him. "Scott didn't have much space to write a message. Here, see for yourself." He handed him the cigarette packet and lighter, then moved towards the telephone as Ross read over the message.
"Leave that!"
Virgil snatched his hand away from the phone in surprise. "The jammers are down, it should be working now. I was going to call the police."
"Are you sure you want them involved given these developments?"
"But they need to know the hostages are safe. Anyway, I'd like to clear my name."
"Well if you make the call that might not happen."
"Huh?"
"Think about it, Virgil. We know the truth, but it could just as easily look as though you really are guilty and you're betraying your accomplices to save yourself. They've probably realised MI5 don't have you by now - they'll most likely have you marked down as a fugitive, not a kidnap victim."
"But that's ridiculous."
"I know. But that's not our only problem, is it? Sahara's out there and she's got Penelope. If she discovers that her accomplice is under arrest and that the General isn't going to get what he wants, who knows what she'll do. She'll have nothing to lose by going after your father for all she can get. Or cutting her losses and making a run for it - probably killing Penelope before she goes."
"Guess so," Virgil said doubtfully. "So what do we do?"
"We sit tight here until we can speak to your father and work out the best plan of action. I'm even reluctant to call my people, not when there's a chance one of them might be working with our enemies. I'd like to interrogate Mr Younger myself, not that I expect him to give much away."
"Okay," Virgil agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Just for a few hours."
"Good man," Ross told him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now then, how about a cup of tea? I think Lord Warrington-Farr could do with one. Poor man, Sahara was particularly brutal in revealing Penny's secrets. You know, I don't think he's going to be too happy to see your brother."
"Ah..." Virgil had wondered about that himself.
The kettle had just boiled when they heard the sound of a twig snapping outside. Ross tensed but Virgil just smiled, creeping to the back door and listening intently for a moment before yanking it open.
A surprised Scott tumbled into the kitchen, sprawling face-first onto the floor before leaping to his feet and going into an attacking pose, only to relax and smile when he realised who he was facing.
"Hi, Scott," Virgil gave him a mock-glare. " You took your time. Cup of tea?"