Ch 10
Heady with excitement, Mia buzzed around her mother's apartment dressed in her latest find from one of Paris' many boutiques. It was ages since she had been in Paris, and now after hours shopping with the money they earned, she had fallen in love all over again, and had decided that she would buy her own apartment in the famous 'City of Light'.
Piers, reclining on his mother's chaise lounge, sniffed at his sister's happiness. He was bored. After Piers' initial excitement of receiving the glorious amount of money from 'collecting' Gordon Tracy, the glittering allure of the jet-set life had dimmed to a faint glow after just one night of clubbing. Piers was more than ready to move on and seek excitement elsewhere.
Cousin Keg was happy anywhere, as long as there was plenty of good food, and access to a games console. Keg was currently seated in his normal relaxed pose, in front of the television, console in hand, and pizza at his side.
It was fortunate that Mother was out of town for a few months, Piers mused. She was a neat freak and the apartment was not looking its best at the moment. Clothes strewn over the floor, empty bottles of champagne adorned the window sills, and half eaten plates of food covered the kitchen bench-tops. Piers yawned. No matter, the cleaners would soon sort the mess out.
Mia swooned over the lounge next to her brother. "I'm in love with Paris. I never ever want to leave, Piers."
Piers arched a brow. "Oh yes, and what about Mother? You said you would never live in the same country as her ever again, and yet here we are in her house."
"But we have money now, don't we? We can leave this sterile hell-hole the She-devil calls a home and get our own place."
"She-devil? That's not a nice thing to say about our lovely Mother." Piers dug a finger into his sister's ribs; she squealed and squirmed away from him.
A sudden knock at the door caused Mia to sit up in panic. Keg slowly put the console down and looked to the siblings. Piers laughed. "Relax, it's the cleaners. I called them to come and clean up this pigsty. Unlike you, Mia, I do like the uncluttered look of Mother's apartment. Keg, do something useful, mate, and get the door."
On the floor, Keg looked from Piers and towards the door. Grunting, he set down his pizza slice, clambered to his feet and went to answer the door.
While Keg attended to the door, Mia left her brother reclining on the lounge, and wandered over to her laptop. After tooling through her favourite websites, she decided to check her emails. Mia's face blanched when she opened an email from Control. A red screen blinked at her. The young woman called out frantically to her brother, "Piers, quick! It's a code red!"
Piers was instantly on his feet. He rushed over to his sister, and saw the blinking computer screen.
"Shit! This is not good. Someone must have alerted the authorities. We'll have to get out of France." Piers looked up from the screen. "What the hell is taking Keg so long?"
As soon as he asked, the front door closed with a bang and Keg made his way back into the apartment. Both Piers and Mia looked on in alarm as they saw what their cousin was holding. In one hand he clasped a crude wooden statue that he was staring at intensely, and in his other hand he held a gun loosely at his side.
"What have you got there, Keg?" Mia asked, her high voice betraying her apprehension.
Keg slowly raised his head to look at his cousins. His features were slack, and his eyes appeared glazed. "Do you see it's eyes?" Keg turned the statue towards Mia and Piers. The statue's bulbous eyes were glowing red.
Piers nodded and cautiously approached the tubby man. "Give me the gun, Keg."
A confused look passed over Keg's face and he tapped at his head with the gun. "The man gave me the statue, Piers. He said it was a reward for our good work."
Piers took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "What man, Keg? Did he give you the gun too?"
Keg looked to the statue once more. "He told me to look into its eyes. Do you see the eyes, Piers?"
Piers edged closer to his cousin. Mia trembled behind him. "Put the gun down, Keg!" She cried out.
Keg now looked to the gun in his hand. "Oh! That's right. The man told me to play a game with the gun." Keg stared suddenly at Piers, and raised the gun so it pointed directly at his cousin's head. "You know how I like to play games, Piers."
Mia screamed as a shot rang out.
John had made sure the local authorities had been notified about Gordon's kidnap prior to his brothers' arrival in France, and the Tracys were met at the airport by a senior officer, a coolly efficient blonde woman, Capitaine Arceneau.
Scott discussed with Arceneau their plans of action before the brothers drove off towards the apartment of the wanted three in a Tracy Corporation car. Two police cars followed.
Alan drove, and being fairly familiar with the Parisian streets, ensured they weren't heavily delayed by traffic snarls.
"What if they are just innocent tourists? Dragged Gordon to their room, freshened him up and pushed him out the door?" Virgil queried from the back seat as they sped along.
Scott shook his head. "John sent me the latest information about these 'tourists.' A large amount of money was placed into their joint bank account after Gordon disappeared. The coincidences are too great, Virg, these guys are guilty and I know they know where Gordon is."
"We'll soon find out," Alan said as he stopped the car on a leafy street. "We're here." The brothers stepped out of the car.
The apartment was in a fashionable part of the city. The area was known for its trendy cafes, beautiful people, and stylish architecture. Each of the brothers wore casual yet smart clothes. With guns concealed under their jackets they did not want to cause any unnecessary attention or alarm.
The police pulled up behind Alan's car parked a discreet distance away from the apartment, on the opposite side of the street. As planned, plain clothes police were to approach and detain the three. When the situation was properly contained, the Tracys had permission to ask questions and to secure any evidence.
Adrenalin still pumping from whizzing through the streets of Paris, Alan bounced on the balls of his feet. He wanted to go in first, and pin the bastards down. Scott laid a calming hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Patience," he murmured.
The police disappeared into the four storey building. It wasn't long before a few of the police returned; their faces grim, they quickly crossed to the blonde Capitaine and spoke to her at length.
After an agonising wait, Arceneau finally approached the Tracy brothers.
"There has been a shooting," she said simply. "Two of the alleged kidnappers, Mia and Piers Willoughby are dead. Their killer is the cousin, Maurice Kegworth."
"The cousin, is he still alive?" Scott asked, shocked.
The officer nodded. "He is but he..." She paused, struggling to find the right words, in the end she added, "You had better come with me."
The Tracys followed the Capitaine into the building and up the stairs to the second floor apartment.
As familiar as they were to sights of disasters and carnage, the sight of people dead still delivered a jolt. Apart from the rubbish that littered the floors and furniture, the apartment's white interior was splattered with blood.
A girl lay slumped face down over a chaise lounge, only glimpses of pale green silk could be seen through the deep red that stained her dress. Her brother lay on the floor next to her, his head covered in blood from a single
gunshot to the forehead.
Ominously, a gun lay on the blood flecked carpet next to the bodies.
Seeing the Tracys notice the gun still lying on the floor, Arceneau explained, "In a homicide, we don't want to move anything until forensics arrive." She showed the brothers into the kitchen.
A circle of police surrounded a man seated on a dining chair. They police parted as Arceneau and the Tracys arrived.
Maurice Kegworth, dressed in a cotton vest and shorts, clasped a wooden statue to his chest and was rocking back and forth. His half lidded eyes were dull, and his full lips dribbled with spit.
"He's mad," Alan breathed.
A young police woman looked to the senior officer, "He won't let go of the statue, Capitaine. He just keeps repeating the same words, 'the eyes, the eyes."
Arceneau turned to the Tracys. "It will be impossible to ask the man questions in his present state of mind. I'll call our doctor and hopefully we can sedate him and question him later."
The weariness of such a long plane journey, the fear for his brother, and now the agony of finding the only possible lead to Gordon, a man totally out of his head, pushed Alan over the edge.
With a cry of rage the young Tracy leapt at the stupefied Kegworth, shaking him vigorously, he yelled, "Where is my brother? Tell me, you bastard, where is my brother?"
Before the police could react, Scott and Virgil rushed forward to restrain Alan but not before the blonde Tracy had knocked the statue from Kegworth's arms. The statue dropped to the kitchen tiled floor with a heavy thud. All
watched as, if in slow motion, the statue's head snapped off and something fat and slimy slid out of the statue's hollow neck.
Closest to the statue, Arceneau stepped away, her face twisted in disgust. "Ugh! It's a toad."
As the Tracys and the police stared at the broken statue and its gruesome contents, none noticed the sudden change in Keg's demeanour. It was as if a light had turned on in the man's head. The dull look in his eyes was
replaced with one mixed with fear and pain. The man slumped over, placed his head in his hands and sobbed. "I killed them. I am so sorry. I couldn't help it. The statue made me do it."
Arceneau stood in front of the man, his crying making absolutely no impression on her cool manner. "Where is Gordon Tracy?"
Keg looked up at the woman; his face was red and his eyes swollen with tears. "I don't know!" he wailed.
Still held back by his brothers, Alan struggled to get closer to the sobbing man. "You took him; tell us where our brother is!"
Keg swung his head towards the Tracys. "He was your brother?"
Virgil answered, his voice deadly "Yes, goddamn you."
Keg sniffed. ""I killed my family. Piers and Mia were all I had. I couldn't help it. The statue made me do it." The man dissolved into tears once more.
Trying to control the urge to shake an answer out of the man, Scott tried a different tact. "I'm sorry about your family," With a quick questioning look to Arcenaeu, who nodded her consent, Scott released Alan's arm and
crouched low towards Kegworth.
He kept his voice calm. "I know you were close. I'm very close to my brother as well. Gordon Tracy. I know you don't want him to be hurt like Piers and Mia."
Keg shook his head, his shoulders shuddered. "Yeah, sorry. " He mumbled before looking Scott square in the face and adding more strongly, "I'm sorry about your brother, he was a nice guy. We shouldn't have touched him. But we needed the money."
"There are other ways to get money, like getting a job," Alan growled.
Scott held up a hand, telling his younger brother to back off, before he concentrated on Keg once more. "Do you know where Gordon is now?"
Keg shook his head. "We just gather the items for the players, and Control sends another team to collect them."
Confused, Scott asked, "Items, players, control? What do you mean?"
Sighing, as a sudden weariness enveloped the chubby man, he replied, "its all part of the Game. We help the players hunt and gather items, items such as your brother, and the players compete against each other; whoever
has the most items wins. Control is just that, he controls the game."
"It's a game." Virgil repeated his mouth tight with barely controlled anger.
Scott struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Where is my brother now?"
The man shrugged. "We passed the item...I mean Gordon Tracy, to the recovery team and they took him. I don't know where he is now, but Control does."
"Control! Who the hell is Control?" Alan shouted in frustration.
"We only receive his emails and phone calls. We have never met Control!" Keg's voice rose in equal frustration.
Scott gestured to the ugly scene just outside the kitchen. "Did Control do that? Did he make you kill your cousins through the statue?"
Keg's face crumpled into tears. "No...No, he wouldn't. I mean, I don't know."
The man bent over and sobbed into his hands.
Arceneau stepped forward and put a restraining hand on Scott's shoulder. "No more questions for now, Mr Tracy."
Reluctantly, Scott stood up. The Capitaine motioned for the Tracys to follow her into the lounge room.
"Kegworth mentioned emails. My guess is that one of them had a computer, and perhaps we could find a lead there, no?" Arceneau queried.
Scott nodded, his eyes searching before alighting on Mia's laptop on a table in a dark corner of the room. "There it is."
"Ah, wonderful. I will call the office and they will send someone who may be able to get the information out of the computer, such as an address or a name perhaps?" The Capitaine took out her phone.
Scott quickly pulled out a small black device from his pocket. "There is no need to call someone in; I have what we need here. I can plug this into the computer, and our people will be able to find the information over the internet
link."
Arceneau smiled at Scott's resourcefulness. "Fantastic. But," she added. "The computer is evidence, so wear these." The woman presented Scott with latex gloves.
The Tracy pilot pulled them on and with his brothers in tow hurried over to the laptop. Grabbing a nearby chair, he sat down on it in front of the computer, took out his phone and made a call.
"Brains, I need your help."
Gordon struggled to reach the surface of the water. His limbs felt so heavy in the water, and it was hard to break through. Finally his thrashing hands felt the coolness of the air above, and he launched himself upwards.
The young man jerked forwards in his bed. The stifling bedclothes fell from his naked torso. Bewildered, he looked wildly around him. Nothing was familiar. In contrast to the stark whiteness of the room he last woke in, this room
was like a dungeon in appearance. The windowless room was dark; a single low wattage lamp faintly glowed in a shadowy corner, and it was cold; the floor, ceiling and walls were of solid rock. Gordon shivered. As if it had been
in a dream, the young Tracy recalled a woman telling him he would be back surfing in no time. Did she tell him that yesterday? Or was it the day before? What day was it now? Gordon instinctively looked to his wrist, and
groaned out loud when he noticed his wrist-com was missing. Who took it and where the hell was he? Gordon held a hand to his still rather fragile head to try and stop the endless questions buzzing around in it.
Taking a fur coverlet from his bed, Gordon wrapped it around his bare shoulders. Tentatively, he swung his feet out of the bed and placed them on the hard floor. Geez! The young aquanaut quickly hauled them back up. It was
freezing.
Determined to find out exactly where he was, Gordon stuck his feet firmly on the stone floor, and stood up. The young man gritted his teeth as tiny darts of ice travelled up his legs. Swaying slightly, he made his way to the
room's wooden door.
Grasping his fur wrap with one hand Gordon tried the latch of the door with the other. It didn't budge. He tried again. The door held fast. Letting the fur fall to the floor, Gordon wrestled with both hands in trying to open the
door. It rattled but wouldn't open. He tried calling out. There was no reply. Exhausted, Gordon let his body slide down onto the fur. Wherever he was, he was well and truly locked in. Tired and confused, a new emotion seeped
into Gordon's senses, fear.