I've been re-reading this story just to get back on track and I'm painfully aware that practically every chapter starts with an apology and some gloomy explanation for the delay - and of course this one is no exception. My father has been in hospital again and with all the rushing around and worry it's been impossible to write. Things are relatively settled at the moment so hopefully I'll be able to get things moving again. Thanks to everyone who's sticking with the story. Bee
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jeff Tracy arrived at Scotland Yard to find Marsha Locke waiting by the entrance. The woman ground out the stub of her cigarette under her heel before walking over to shake his hand.
"I'm sorry the press got hold of this," she muttered, blinking as yet another camera flashed.
Jeff steadfastly refused to look at the assortment of journalists and photographers who had gathered to witness what they believed to be the disintegration of his family. They were ecstatic at this dramatic development. The son of a billionaire the prime suspect? And that billionaire being the heroic and reclusive Jefferson Tracy? It was the story of the century. Jeff had cursed Flora Sullivan for making Virgil's arrest public. Apparently the girl, having been questioned a second time about her brief meeting with Virgil the previous day, had not only managed to wheedle the reason for the interview out of the hapless young policeman who had been sent to talk to her, but had then got straight on the phone to one of the sleazier tabloids to give them the scoop on Virgil's arrest, not to mention selling her own story of her involvement with the deceptively charming young man who had apparently masterminded the whole affair.
Jeff had initially been furious, but then John had quietly pointed out that the girl might have actually done him a favour. With the press watching his every move, Sahara could hardly expect him to slip away for a secret rendezvous to deliver the secrets of International Rescue. If nothing else, this might have bought them some time.
But Jeff still had to pretend to be enraged, so as they passed through the door he treated Marsha to a few choice epithets which left her in no doubt about his feelings for the press. The lobby was quiet after the bedlam of the exterior and he took a moment to prepare himself for yet another bout of play acting. Marsha Locke would be in for a surprise when she discovered her client had disappeared, but Jeff knew full well where Virgil was thanks to the edible transmitter he'd swallowed. He was relieved now that he'd agreed to allow Parker's niece to get involved. If Virgil had been taken with no means of tracking him... But his son was being followed by Scott and as far as Jeff was concerned, no news was good news, even though he couldn't help worrying about both his boys. He just wished he could keep in contact with his eldest but he'd been forced to turn off his communicator when he'd got into the taxi which had brought him from the airport.
"We're here to see Virgil Tracy," Marsha informed the woman at the desk.
After a moment's tapping on a keyboard and a puzzled perusal of the result which had flashed up on the screen, the woman asked them to take a seat.
"What are they up to now?" Marsha grumbled as she and Jeff sat themselves down on a couple of hard plastic seats.
Jeff said nothing.
Five minutes later, Inspector Garland emerged. "Mr Tracy, Ms Locke," he said. "You're here to see Virgil, I understand."
"That's right," Jeff told him. "This charade has gone on long enough. You're going to look a fool when you have to release my son, you know."
Garland looked at him sharply. "I won't be releasing him, Sir."
Jeff's indignant response was cut short as Garland continued. "I'm afraid he's not here any longer. He was taken by MI5 for questioning."
"MI5?" Jeff began to rant about the ridiculousness of the whole situation, throwing himself into his role as a man who was used to getting - or at least buying - his own way. Not even the might of the British secret service would withstand his wrath, he informed the police officer, who was forced to stand there and take it, unable to get a word in.
Meanwhile, Marsha Locke was on her phone. She had links to MI5 through Penny, and she was apparently in contact with someone in the organisation. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff could see her face morph from irritation into shock and concern. Here we go, he thought.
"Mr Tracy," she said, snapping her phone shut and coming back over to him. "I think you'd better sit down."
"What? Why?"
But Marsha didn't answer him. Instead she gave Garland a withering look. "I don't know who you handed Virgil Tracy over to, but it wasn't anyone from MI5."
Five minutes later and the shouting had finally subsided. Jeff had demanded action, threatened to sue every police officer at Scotland Yard, not least the man in front of him, who had allowed his son to be taken by some unknown villain. Garland's response had been equally furious. It had all been a plot on the part of Virgil's accomplices, he insisted. A particularly audacious prison break, well in keeping with the elaborate kidnapping plot. Proof, if any more were needed, of Virgil's guilt.
The only thing the two men were in agreement with was the need to find Virgil - and fast.
Garland couldn't get Jeff out of the building quickly enough. To the billionaire's relief, the last thing Garland wanted was for Jeff to have the chance to tell the press about his blunder in allowing Virgil to get away, so the inspector arranged for him to leave via an underground exit, even calling up a car to take him to the Ritz.
"I can't believe this," Jeff muttered, continuing the charade for Marsha Locke's benefit.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk to the press?" she asked. "Someone might have some information and you'd be able to pay well for it."
"And risk Virgil's life?" he snapped, feeling bad about it, but unable to risk confiding in her. Penny might have trusted her, but the stakes were too high for him to admit everything to her. "I want my son back safe and sound." Well, that was true enough. "We'll leave it to the police - and the real MI5."
"They're on the case," Marsha assured him. "You know, this whole thing is insane." She was clearly still struggling to believe the turn events had taken.
"You've got that right," Jeff agreed. "Keep in touch with me. Let me know if you learn anything - you've got more contacts with the police and MI5 than I have."
"I'll do that. I know it's easy to say, but try not to worry, Mr Tracy. None of the other kidnap victims have been harmed. Perhaps we'll have a ransom demand soon, then Garland will have to believe in Virgil's innocence. "
"He'll probably think it's a bluff," Jeff said bitterly. He shook her hand then settled himself into the police car. The journey to the hotel was swift, but not fast enough for the anxious father who was desperate to get in touch with the others. Surely there would be news of Virgil by now.
There was news, but it wasn't good. Alan reported that Scott, driving Rosie's car, had followed the signal to the Kent countryside, but all of a sudden it had been lost. The eldest son wasn't going to let that stop him, though. There were several isolated buildings in a five-mile radius and he'd sworn he'd search every one until he found his brother.
"We should have guessed they'd be using jammers again," Jeff said wearily.
"Scott will find him," Alan said. "He- Wait a minute""
"What?"
"I've got a signal! Scott is still on the road, so Virg must have managed to shut down the jammers. He's okay!"
Jeff smiled. "That's my boy." Although he wouldn't relax until he'd had the chance to speak to his son and ascertain for sure that he was alright, he couldn't help feeling that this had to be a sign that things were going their way for once.
They certainly were. Scott had actually been heading for the farmhouse when the signal had broken through, and it hadn't taken him long to park at the gate and sneak up the lane to the house. Despite believing that Virgil must be on top of the situation in order to have deactivated the jammers, he'd still been ready for a confrontation, but even so, Virgil's sudden opening of the door had taken him by surprise.
He should probably have been embarrassed at being caught out, but he couldn't help breaking into a wide smile when he saw his brother safe and well. "Good to see you, Virg," he said, reaching out to clap his brother on the shoulder. "Hello, Mr Ross. You know, I wouldn't mind some tea - it's thirsty work keeping tabs on a brother."
Irving Ross filled Scott in on recent developments as Virgil poured out a cup of tea. Scott took one mouthful and grimaced. "Hell, Virg, you make lousy coffee, but your tea is worse."
"I made it actually," Irving Ross murmured as Scott blushed and Virgil's expression wavered between offended and amused.
"Where's Parker when you need him?" Virgil finally said.
Irving Ross's expression grew grave, but before he could say anything, Scott informed his brother that Parker, along with Brains, was currently hiding out on International Rescue's Atlantic Base. "They'll have One back in action any minute now."
Ross looked from one brother to the other, clearly trying not to get his hopes up. "Parker's alive? They told us he was dead."
"Yes. Didn't Virg tell you?"
"I've only had time for the highlights," Virgil explained. He told the head of MI5 the story of what had happened the night he'd saved Parker.
"I wish Penelope knew about that," Ross said. "The poor woman was distraught when she was told he'd died."
Scott's face hardened for a moment, something which wasn't lost on either of the other two men. Irving Ross coughed awkwardly and went on. "Of course, Sahara likes to twist the knife. She did her utmost to upset poor Penelope - Lord Warrington-Farr, too. I'm afraid she used Penelope's feelings for you to drive a wedge between them, Scott."
"Her what?"
Irving Ross looked as though he was going to elaborate, but Virgil cut in, keen to keep things on track and avoid any awkwardness. He knew how worked up Scott could get when Penny was the subject under discussion.
"Penny's not here, Scott" he said. "Nor is Sahara."
"I know." Scott shot Irving Ross a final irritated look before replying. "Johnny managed to trace her signal to somewhere in the Atlantic. Guess she's on a boat or a plane. She won't be hanging around for us to catch her, anyway."
"Do you think she'll contact the others here?" Virgil asked. "We'll need to have some kind of plan in place if she does. We need her to think everything's still going her way, don't we?"
Ross agreed. "All the more reason not to make our rescue public," he told Virgil. "I'd better make a start with my interrogations. Perhaps you gentlemen would-"
He broke off as Simon Warrington-Farr came into the kitchen.
There was an awkward silence. Virgil couldn't help but compare Penny's husband to the man Sahara had insisted she'd been in love with. Intelligent and kind he might well be, but Simon wasn't a physically impressive man. Next to the tanned and handsome Scott Tracy, a man who exuded life and vitality, he seemed even more faded than usual.
"You must be Scott Tracy," Simon eventually said. "I recognise you from your photograph."
"That's right." Despite his misgivings about what Sahara might have said about Penny's feelings for him - and where on earth had she got that idea? - Scott stepped forward and held out his hand.
There was the briefest of pauses before Simon extended his own hand. "Is there any news of Penelope?" he asked.
"She's alive," Scott said. "Sahara has an agenda of her own, it appears."
"What do you mean?" Simon asked.
Scott and Virgil glanced awkwardly at each other before Irving Ross stepped in with some comment about 'national secrets'. Simon looked as though he was going to demand a proper answer, then seemed to realise he wouldn't get it.
"Prince Louis and I have been watching our captives. They had quite an impressive argument about whose fault it was that they'd been bested, but now they're just sitting there ignoring each other.
"Time for me to talk to Mr Younger," Irving Ross said, clearly keen to move on. "Virgil, Scott, would you care to provide a little security for me?"
"Sure." Virgil followed Ross out of the door. Scott made to follow them, only for Simon to put out a hand to stop him.
Feeling more than a little ill at ease, Scott turned to face the man. Simon stared at him for a moment, apparently about to say something, but then his gaze dropped to his hand, small and soft against Scott's muscular arm, and he visibly slumped, clearly deciding there was no point. Scott couldn't help feeling relieved. He wasn't sure what the situation with Penny was himself; there was no way he could explain it to her husband.
"Promise me one thing," Simon said.
"If I can," Scott said uncertainly.
"Find Penelope. Whatever happens after that... well, it's up to her."
"Sure. Er...right." Scott held Simon's eyes for a moment, hating the misery he saw in them. He debated whether to say something to try to clear the air, but despite having honed his skills in diplomacy guiding four brothers through childhood and beyond, he wasn't really sure he wouldn't just make things worse. Instead, he simply said, more forcefully this time,
"I promise you I'll do everything I can to get her back."
"Good." Simon let his hand drop and stood back to let Scott pass.
"Everything okay?" Virgil's sudden appearance in the narrow corridor made Scott jump. The middle Tracy studied Simon as he spoke and Scott knew that his brother's keen artistic eyes wouldn't miss a thing.
"Everything's fine." Scott pushed his brother back the way he'd come. "Let's get to work on those guys. The sooner we break them the better."
"I'm not sure Eric Younger's going to break," Virgil said. "Swayne and the other two have gone to pieces, but he's perfectly calm."
"Not for long," Scott promised, glad of the chance to work off a bit of tension.
But for once, Scott was wrong. Irving Ross had refused to allow him to resort to violence and so Eric Younger had sat there in silence, refusing to say anything useful.
It had come as no real surprise to the head of MI5 that his captive had been unwilling to talk. Still, he hadn't had much option other than to continue his interrogation, after all, he'd been waiting some years to do so and there was a whole list of crimes that needed to be discussed. But nothing would convince the ex-agent to cooperate. He was clearly frustrated at being captured, but, as he pointed out, no penalty the British authorities could bestow upon him could be worse than the fate that would await him if he returned to the General as a failure.
"I hope you don't expect Sahara to come to your rescue," Ross said. "That young lady will save her own skin, not yours."
"I expect so." Younger smiled. "I knew the risks I was taking. I just hope Sahara does get away."
"You'd get a lighter sentence if you cooperated," Ross reminded him.
"Really? You've already pointed out that you have proof I murdered the man who used to do your job. Add that to the kidnapping charges and whatever else you've got on me after my involvement with Reuben McAllister, and there's no way I'm getting out of jail until I'm far too old to do much with whatever's left of my life. No, even if I did know what Sahara's up to, there would be no point me telling you."
Ross studied him, trying to work out if he was really as ignorant as he professed. Younger met his eye and in the end Ross was forced to concede defeat. There would be no bargaining with the man.
A tap on the door diverted them and Virgil crossed to open it. Prince Louis was standing outside.
"We've been watching the feed from the cellar," he murmured, mindful of Younger's attentive gaze. "Swayne might be ready to crack."
Ross rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Good. I've been looking forward to this. Keep an eye on this one, will you, Scott? Virgil, you come with me."
"Sure," Scott said, standing back to allow the others to leave then coming into the room to sit in the chair the older man had vacated. He couldn't help wondering if this was Ross's way of sanctioning a little more intensive persuasion. He cracked his knuckles dramatically, wondering if he'd get any reaction, but Younger just sat back and studied him intently.
"Sahara will be jealous," he smiled.
"Really?" Scott felt himself reddening. He'd got a clear message from Sahara that she was interested in him, even though she'd had him beaten within an inch of his life.
"Oh yes. She wasn't happy when you got away from her the other night. Why she's so obsessed with you I don't know."
Scott knew a lot more than Eric, but he wasn't going to mention International Rescue, not when the man didn't seem to know anything about Sahara's discovery. After all, if he was going to try to blackmail Scott with his knowledge, now was certainly the time. But there was no hint that he knew he was in the presence of an International Rescue pilot.
"You must be worried about Lady Penelope," Younger said. "Maybe there's a deal to be done after all."
"What? Trade you for Penny?"
Younger laughed. "She wouldn't go for that. And neither would Irving. But trade you... They might just do it." He made himself comfortable again and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when you're ready to talk," he said.
Scott considered this for a long time, even as he wondered what was happening with Sebastian Swayne.
Swayne was certainly a lot more talkative than Eric Younger had been. Clearly a coward, his only concern was to make sure things went as well for him as they possibly could. He told Ross everything, how Sahara had approached him with this mission, how it had appealed not only to his mercenary nature but also to his sense of the theatrical. He'd hoped to regain his reputation, something that would have been a lot easier with the Archbishop of Canterbury and Prince Louis openly supporting him.
"A pity you'll miss out," Ross told him. "I wonder what Sahara will do when she realises that your plan failed."
"Ah, but will she?" Swayne leaned forward, his eyes boring into Ross's. Virgil, standing half-hidden in the shadows of one corner, his watch transmitting everything, took a step forward. He had firsthand experience of what this man could do and he wanted to be sure Irving Ross understood the risks he was taking in conducting a face to face interview.
Ross held up a hand, bringing his guard to a halt. "It's alright, Virgil. Mr Swayne might need to explain himself, though."
"You haven't told anyone about our capture, have you? If you had, the authorities would be here and we'd be having this conversation at a police station. Or at MI5. No, you can't afford for word to get out - you know Sahara's got friends at MI5. You need her to believe everything's going to plan, otherwise you'll lose her. I'm right, aren't I?"
"And if you are? Maybe it's your friend Mr Quinn we're after. I take it he's gone to collect the ransom you demanded for Prince Louis?"
Swayne smiled. "Oh, yes. Don't expect me to tell you where, though. I'd hate for Quinn to be captured."
"Well, we'll see. If the ransom drop goes ahead - as it may have to in order to preserve our secrecy - I'm sure he'll be traced. Either way, it doesn't help you much, does it?"
"No, but maybe I can help you. Sahara will be calling in soon. If no one answers... Well, who knows what she might do. But if I were to pretend everything's still in order, perhaps you could help me in return."
"In what way?"
Swayne leaned forward again. "I accept that I'm going to prison for a long time. Although the publicity from the trial will give me the recognition I deserve, which will be some consolation. But I'd be willing to give that up, to continue in obscurity. If you'll cooperate with me."
"I won't let you go free. You're a dangerous man, Mr Swayne."
"Thank you." Swayne looked delighted at the comment. "No, I understand that I'll be locked away. But, a gilded cage is better than a prison cell, don't you think?"
"What do you mean?"
"I could be useful to you. To MI5. You know I could. You believe me now, don't you? I've proved my abilities quite effectively I believe."
"Drugs. We found the stuff you kept in here. Along with the 'vitamins' you had Parker take."
"Ah, Parker. My greatest success. He fought so hard against his conditioning, you know. A loyal servant to the lovely Lady Penelope. No, Mr Ross, the drug is part of it, but it's not what breaks a subject, it simply quickens the process of bending them to my will. Oh, don't give me that look. Believe me, I can do what I say. You know I can. But I'm not the only one. As I told you when you first arrived here, I've met men who can take control of a person's mind in the blink of an eye, no drugs necessary. If one of them took it upon himself to work with this country's enemies... Well, it would be useful for you to have your own man to go up against him, don't you think?"
Ross looked at him carefully. "How could I ever trust you?"
"I have information. About Sahara. I know what she really wants."
"Go on." Irving Ross exchanged a nervous glance with Virgil.
"In return for?"
"Well, since you've shown that you do have some sort of psychic ability I don't see that any ordinary prison would be the place for you. Perhaps we can find somewhere a little more to your liking. Now go on, what can you tell me?"
"She's out to get you."
"Well she wouldn't have had me kidnapped if that wasn't the case," Ross told him.
"No, it's not connected with that. I heard her. Just before she left with Lady Penelope. She was talking to someone. I'm not sure who, but I got the impression he was some kind of military man. She kicked me out of this room so she could turn off the jammers. Oh, by that stage we were sure there was nothing our delightful MI5 agent was hiding, but even so, Sahara insisted we turn them on after she'd left. Anyway, she said something about everything working out even if the original plan hadn't been followed and that they'd soon have IR under their control."
Virgil started, panic turning to utter relief as he realised that Irving Ross's initials had worked out handily for them. Sebastian Swayne would, of course, believe that it was the MI5 chief who was being referred to. He, however - like Irving Ross himself - knew better.
Not that Ross gave anything away. "So they wanted IR. I see. Anything else?"
"Something about a coup. Using you - IR - to wrest control away from the General. The pair of them would run the country together. She said something about setting up some coalition of neighbouring states to stand against their enemies... Could be rather dangerous. That part of the world's unstable at best, but if those states did join forces it might be rather unpleasant for the rest of us."
"Indeed." Ross was careful not to let his feelings about this show, but inside he couldn't help feeling a stab of fear. 'Unpleasant' didn't begin to cover it. The world would be a very dangerous place if that lot got their hands on International Rescue's technology.
"It's just as well she's not going to get her hands on you," Swayne went on. "I'd have a place of some importance in the new order, of course, but even so, I don't think it would be a world I'd like to live in."
"No," Ross said. He turned to look at Virgil. If only things were as straightforward as Swayne believed. At least now they knew Sahara's plan, and he had a feeling he knew who her partner was. The General's Air Force chief had been suspected of plotting against his leader, but Ross's contact hadn't been able to offer any proof. At the time, he had felt it might be an improvement, that anyone other than the current leader, a volatile, ruthless and downright dangerous man, who'd clearly proven his instability with this whole bizarre kidnapping plot, might be less of a threat to world peace. But not anymore. Not after what Swayne had just told him.
"We need to talk," Virgil said softly.
"Yes. Mr Swayne, thank you for your help. Perhaps we can continue this conversation later."
"Of course. I look forward to it.
Irving Ross watched as Virgil escorted the prisoner back to the cellar. Sebastian Swayne had certainly given him a lot to think about. Various solutions occurred to him, though none of them really appealed. But he couldn't indulge his finer feelings, not when world peace depended on him. When he needed to be, he could be as ruthless as any half-mad dictator such as the General. He had to get his hands on Sahara, sooner rather than later - and if that meant sacrificing Penny or revealing the identity of the members of International Rescue, then, as unfortunate as such an occurrence might be, it would have to be done.