Chapter 4
Thunderbirds One and Two landed in the same field, a meadow near the cabin. Their father was there, standing in the rain waiting for them. Four International Rescue workers with their faces covered came out of the aircraft. Davis glanced at them and commented to Jeff, "Hmm. I understand they do that some times when they think the news media might be snapping pictures. Paranoid, that's what they are."
Jeff just smiled and walked toward the International Rescue personnel. "I'm very glad to see you here," Jeff's voice rang out for the benefit of the crowd of police watching the thunderbirds land. "And I am very glad to see you all," Jeff added quietly as he moved closer to his sons and Brains. "Did you bring all the equipment?"
"Yes sir, it's all loaded," Virgil responded. "Do you have a search area mapped out?"
"Yes, here is a map of the national forest," Jeff handed it to Alan. "You can set up Mobile Control near the cabin,"
Alan took the map and promptly got the Mobile Control kit and began walking over to the cabin. Gordon went back to the open pod and drove out the all-terrain search vehicle. Looking like the tank it was designed after, it was able to climb steep slopes and carry multiple passengers.
"Virgil, Brains, I'd like you to see the cabin," Jeff led them toward the cabin, stopping in front of Agent Davis.
"Agent Davis, the International Rescue people tell me that they have some kind of DNA sniffer that can track Scott better than a scent-hound, especially in this rain."
Brains nodded. "W-we have a newly developed piece of equipment that should a-assist in locating the v-victim," said Brains. "It can track a person via the DNA trail that he leaves behind. We are hoping to locate Mr. Tracy's son by that method." He cleared his throat nervously and shot a glance at Jeff Tracy. "I…ah…understand that you have some of S-Scott Tracy's DNA here? In the c-cabin?"
Davis nodded. "The CSI techs have already been through."
"I think I'll stay outside," Jeff Tracy said with a mournful smile.
Virgil concentrated on not losing his lunch while Brains went over to a wooden bench literally soaked in Scott's blood and carefully scraped away a sample. "Are you a-all right, Virgil?" Brains asked anxiously, closing up his sample slide.
"I'll be better when we get outside," Virgil gritted and forced himself to survey the entire cabin, including the hole chopped in the bathroom wall. With difficulty, he exited the cabin at a reasonable pace. "While Brains is calibrating the tracker, I'd like a few words with you, Mr. Tracy," Virgil said and pulled Jeff aside. Alan and Gordon joined them.
"Well? Did he survive?" Jeff asked his son in low tones. Virgil took a long breath. "He's lost a lot of blood, Dad, but yes, I think that survival is possible. I don't think his kidnappers necessarily set this up to hide a murder."
"We should know shortly," Jeff replied and returned to the mobile control setup. "Mr…..ah….Brains? Is your machine ready to go? And..um..would you mind if I accompanied you on the search?"
"Th-that's fine with me, Mr. Tracy," said Brains. "And yes, the machine is ready and calibrated. We can s-start any time now."
"We'll leave the vehicle here until we find your son, Mr. Tracy," Virgil said. "Mobile Control will forward us any news if anyone else finds him. When we find your son, our other colleague can come pick us up in the ATV."
"That sounds fine to me," said Jeff. "Let's get going."
Scott noticed that the forest had gotten quieter. There weren't any more voices near him. He tried to get up one-handed but fell back, dizzy. He didn't feel cold anymore, just sweaty and shaky. He knew that meant he probably had a high fever, but he couldn't do anything about that any more than his hand. He had to get up, find help. Before that, he needed water. He knew that he was dehydrated, between the blood loss and the fever. There was that stream nearby, he'd try that and damn the microbes! At least the rain had stopped.
He stumbled down to the stream and scooped up water in his right hand, visualizing everything that Virgil had to say about drinking water from strange streams. Huh. Dysentery was the least of his worries right now.
He tried to stand and managed it, just. Wobbly and feel so weak…Damn. Can't let Slater and his goons win. Got to go for help but which way? He started forward down a trail but didn't see the log in his way, tripped and landed hard on his injured hand. He could hear himself screaming as he blacked out.
One Mile From the Cabin
"Did you hear that?" Jeff Tracy put a hand on Brains' wrist. "Did you hear that cry? It almost sounded like Scott…"
"It could be just a wild animal, Father," Virgil said quietly, listening intently.
"Brains?"
"I-it came from this direction and that's where the DNA leads as well," Brains said, leading them up a path and past a huge, hollow redwood tree.
"Dad! Tracks!" Virgil pointed out some muddy footprints near a stream. "They look fresh."
"Fan out and call! Maybe he'll know our voices," Jeff ordered.
Several minutes later, Jeff heard Virgil's voice calling from the underbrush, "Father! I've found him!"
Jeff plowed through the ferns and brush to find Virgil on his knees next to the crumpled body of his oldest son. Scott was face-down and not moving. Virgil had a hand on Scott's neck and a look of concentration in his eyes.
"Virgil…?"
"He's alive," Virgil breathed. "Support his neck and help me turn him over."
They carefully rolled Scott onto his back and Jeff bit back an exclamation when he saw his son. He had a week's growth of beard and looked emaciated with hollows around his eyes. His clothing was torn and his shirt was covered with blood. Jeff eyed Virgil, who was busily unpacking the small backpack he'd carried, laying out medical supplies and diagnostic equipment.
Brains came over and saw Virgil's activity. "I'll n-notify mobile control and John," he said.
Jeff Tracy only had eyes for his eldest son, "You do that, Brains." Jeff reached out and stroked Scott's hair and started. "Virgil, he's burning up!"
"I know," Virgil replied softly. "I make his temperature at 102.1 degrees Fahrenheit. I think I can guess the cause." He lifted Scott's left hand and carefully unwrapped the filthy towel. It was stiff with blood and Virgil had to pull it away from where it stuck to the skin. "My God, what they did to his hand…" Virgil closed his eyes and forced himself to a clinical demeanor and continued. "His hand is swollen, and look…" Virgil pointed to a series of dark streaks running up Scott's arm. "He needs a hospital, and fast."
Virgil was wrapping Scott's hand in clean gauze when they heard rapid footsteps as Alan and Gordon came into the clearing pulling a float-pallet.
"Maybe we can help," Alan said, then glanced at Scott and paled. "We..we're not too late, are we?"
"Put the pallet on the ground next to Scott. He's alive but we need to get him out of here," Virgil directed.
Together they lifted him onto the pallet and activated the anti-grav. "How far away did you park the carrier?" Jeff asked Alan.
"We're about a quarter of a mile away. The forest is pretty dense in this area," Alan replied. "Not too far."
Soon they were putting Scott into the back of the carrier. Gordon rode shotgun up front with Alan and watched him floor the gas.
"Hey, Alan, you don't want to kill Scott while you're at it," Gordon held on to his seat with both hands as the carrier bounced and lurched.
"He needs a hospital," Alan said firmly and wrenched the steering wheel around a sharp turn. "The faster I get him back to mobile control, the faster we can fly him out of here. And besides," Alan added. "Whenever I'm your passenger on Thunderbird 4 you always make me seasick but I don't complain, do I?"
"W-well, it's making me motion-sick, Alan," grumbled Brains from the seat behind him.
"Slow it down, Alan!" Virgil yelled from the back. "I'm trying to put in an IV without sticking him to death! The ride is so bumpy, I keep missing the vein!"
Penitent, Alan slowed the vehicle down to half its former speed while Virgil worked on Scott in peace.
Jeff, sitting in the back next to Scott's pallet, watched Virgil as he deftly inserted an IV port on Scott's good hand, then prepared an IV bag, hanging it from the ceiling. He knew that Virgil was a talented paramedic but had never seen him in action before. He was impressed by his son's quiet professionalism and calm under fire. Especially now, Virgil hadn't let his own evident feelings impair his abilities. He'd have to be sure to tell him how proud he was of him.
Virgil gave Jeff a look of sympathy; he knew that his father hated to feel helpless. "Father, Scott's still too hot. Why don't you clean his face with some of these alcohol wipes. That may cool him off a bit."
Jeff gladly took the wipes and carefully began to clean Scott's face, relieved to be of some use.
After a few minutes, Scott's breathing changed and his eyes painfully opened.
"How are you feeling, son?" Jeff asked tenderly. "We've been worried about you."
"Been…better," Scott rasped. "Virg gettin' to practice his EMT skills on me, huh?"
"I'll keep practicing until I get them right," said Virgil with a smile. There was another large bump and the ATV slid a few feet, then corrected itself.
"Alan's drivin', isn't he?" Scott said. "Shouldn let 'm if you wan' patients t'get to th' hospital safely..Owwwwww…." he grabbed at his left hand.
Virgil gently grabbed Scott's right hand and moved it away from his left. "Don't fiddle with it, Scott. I don't want you to undo my masterful bandaging."
Scott closed his eyes, shading them with his right hand. "Doesn' matter. Not gonna fly again wi' han' like that. No good."
Jeff Tracy frowned, feeling a deep flare of rage against the men who would cripple such a promising pilot. "Scott, we'll find the best microsurgeons available, modify Thunderbird One's controls if necessary. You will fly her again, do you hear me?"
"Yeah, Father, I hear ya," said Scott, unconvinced, then he drifted into sleep.
They got back to Mobile Control in record time with no apparent damage to either the vehicle or its passengers, including Scott. Jeff went to meet Agent Davis while Scott was unloaded.
"I see that International Rescue came through again," said Davis, approaching Scott's gurney. "He's alive?"
Virgil stood next to his brother, keeping an eagle eye on his condition. "He is, sir, but I'd recommend he be transported to a hospital as quickly as possible. We could probably get him there faster than any ambulances you have, if Mr. Tracy approves."
"Absolutely," said Jeff Tracy. "Agent, I assume you don't need me or my son any longer."
"We'll need his clothing for evidence and some pictures of his present condition for trial later," said Davis. "I'd also like to interview him when he's feeling better."
"Are photos really necessary?" asked Jeff. "We try to avoid publicity for my sons' safety and my own."
"Photos of this type are generally held under seal and only seen by the judge, attorneys and jury. There are strict privacy laws protecting them from release. They're necessary as evidence against your son's kidnappers. You do want them prosecuted, don't you?" Agent Davis asked, reasonably.
"Oh yes, I do want them prosecuted! If I have your undertaking that the photos remain private, then I'll allow it," replied Jeff, watching his other sons move Scott into Thunderbird Two's sickbay.
" Where are you taking him?" Davis asked.
"I understand that Stanford Hospital has an excellent trauma center, Mr. Tracy," said Virgil deferentially, moving to stand next to his father. "We could be there in 15 minutes at Thunderbird Two's speed."
Jeff nodded. "That's where we'll be, then. I'll send someone back for my jet. And thank you again for your help, Davis."
Davis said, "Well, Mr. Tracy, I'm glad that your son was recovered. I'll have one of the CSI's from the Palo Alto Police Department stop by to collect Scott's clothing and take some pictures."
"I understand," said Jeff and after a brisk handshake with Agent Davis, Jeff Tracy followed the International Rescue men back to their Thunderbird Two.