Ch13

Gordon woke in the dim light of his room. His head was pounding with pain. The young man was also extremely thirsty. With difficulty, as his body also ached, Gordon raised up on his elbows look for water. Surprisingly, a hand appeared and gently directed his head towards a glass. Gordon sipped the cool liquid gratefully, and eased himself back onto the bed. Through swollen eyes, Gordon could see the thin man standing by his bed.

"My Master hurt Mr Tracy?"

Gordon nodded briefly.

The man clicked his tongue in sympathy. "We are prisoners here also, Mr Tracy. My brothers and I were taken by the Master and Mr Li."

"Why... don't you... escape?" Gordon could barely manage a whisper.

The man tapped at his head with a bony finger. "Master uses magic. He steals your mind. Mr Tracy, you must be strong or Master will poison your head."

A sudden knock caused the thin man to quickly withdraw. A flicker of light streamed into the room as the man opened the door only for it to plunge into gloom once more as the door closed behind the man's retreating figure.

Feeling light-headed and slightly nauseous, Gordon closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened when he was held captive in the large room. The young man could only summon feelings, feelings of absolute terror, anger, and finally resignation. Yet he could also recall a voice. An insidious voice that slithered into his head and wrapped itself like a serpent around his mind. Gordon shuddered, and focused instead on escape, on the faces of his family welcoming him home, and on the black lines in the pool as he swam up and down, up and down.

"Okay, son. Safe journey." Jeff ended his call to Scott, and turned to Brains who sat at a nearby desk, in front of a computer.

"The boys are leaving France, and are coming home. If the information on the memory stick is correct, and Gordon was taken to an island in Malaysia, then we need to prepare our next move carefully. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks."

Brains nodded in agreement. "I h...have looked at the island on satellite ph...photos, M...Mr Tracy, and there s...seems to be an air s...strip. N...not m...much else, I...I'm afraid."

Jeff walked over to the computer Brains was working on and studied the image of the island. Brains was right. The island was covered in dense jungle; a strip of cleared land near the beach did appear to be an airstrip. Jeff pointed to a darker mass in the centre of the island. "What do you think that is?"

Brains enlarged the image and an outline of a stone building came into focus. "S...somebody does live th...there."

Jeff narrowed his eyes as he concentrated on the image. "It looks to be roughly a kilometre from the airstrip. Can you work out the exact distances for me, Brains? And see if there is anything else on the island. I don't want to send the boys into a trap."

Brains returned to study the satellite image, and Jeff was back at his desk, nodding to Kyrano who had entered the room with refreshments, when John's portrait lit up, and the young astronaut appeared on the screen.

"Dad, Scott briefed me about what happened to Gordon."

Jeff nodded gravely. "A game played by wealthy individuals with too much money, and very little brain matter."

"Well, another one of the players of the game is dead."

Jeff leaned forward eager to know more. "Really? Who? Where?"

"I've just been listening to a police report from another part of France. The report is saying a man in his forties has been found dead in the doorway to his home, a Chateau around a day's drive from Paris. He had shot himself in the head."

"How is he connected to the game?" Jeff asked.

"They found a wooden statue next to him. Exactly like the one found in the apartment of the Willoughby siblings. The one the murderer claimed had 'made him' shoot his friends "

"Do you think he was a gatherer of items like the Willoughbys?"

John shook his head. "I don't know, Dad, but the reports say he was wealthy and his house contained a lot of expensive IT equipment. I have a feeling he was one of the main players, if not the actual controller of the game."

"Anything else came through from the Police reports? His name, perhaps?"

Again John shook his head. "They have literally only just stepped into the Chateau, and looked around. I'll keep you posted."

"Right John, keep up the good work."

"FAB"

The portrait darkened.

"W...wooden st...statue? What d...do...you think, M...Mr Tracy?" Brains queried.

His head bowed briefly in thought, Jeff raised his head to look at his friend. "Another mystery, Brains, and another piece of the puzzle we'll have to work out."

Kyrano who had just finished providing Jeff with coffee, and Brains with tea, shook his head, his features were creased with concern.

"Statues can only mean bad magic, Mr Tracy. Evil is working within them. I knew of a man long ago who used statues to control people and their thoughts." Kyrano's thoughts briefly flashed to the memory of a sadistic grin on his brother's face as he forced an old man to march on the spot until the man nearly died of exhaustion. The man was staring at the glowing eyes of a wooden statue held in his brother's outstretched arms.

"Really?" Jeff's eyebrows rose in interest. "Who was this man?"

Not daring to say it was his own flesh and blood, Kyrano spluttered. "Th...the man, Mr Tracy?"

"Yes, the man. The man you said used statues to control people, who was he?"

Kyrano was startled for a moment, searching for an answer before replying, "The man was someone I knew a long time ago, when I was but a child. After my father died, and I left my village, I never saw him again. His name I do not recall, it has been many years. "

Studying Kyrano's face for a few seconds, Jeff frowned. Kyrano's breathing quickened, expecting the man to discount his words but Mr Tracy merely nodded.

Kyrano managed a weak smile and nodded in return as he turned for the door. Jeff's voice stopped him. "I'd like you to find out some more information if you could, Kyrano, on this man. Who knows, he may have imparted his evil ways onto someone else."

Kyrano turned to look at Jeff. "Of course, Mr Tracy. I'll see what I can do."

Kyrano promptly left the room.

Li and the heavy-set guard came for him again, and dragged him back into the other room. Gordon was so weak they didn't need to strap him into the chair. The evil presence emerged from the shadows once more, and the young man was aware of someone cutting his arm and letting his blood flow into a bowl. A metal medallion swinging on a silver chain was dipped into the blood before it was placed over Gordon's head. He could feel the coldness of it as it touched his bare skin. Blood was then daubed on Gordon's forehead before a big black bird swooped into his mind and claimed his senses.

He woke back in his bed; again he was thirsty and ill. This time, there was no welcoming hand directing him to water. He scanned the room for something to quench his thirst. A pitcher and glass rested on a table several feet away from the bed. Sighing deeply, as he knew it would take an effort; he wrenched his hurting body out of the bed, and staggered to the table. Pouring the water into the glass, the young man gulped it down. As he raised his arm to drink he noticed a grubby bandage on his forearm . Gordon peeled the bandage back and saw he had been cut. Blood still oozed from the gash. He vaguely remembered his arm had been slashed, and a medallion placed around his neck. He still wore the medallion; he could feel the icy touch of metal against his chest.

It took another two glasses of water before he felt well enough to push his body back to the bed. As he settled onto the mattress, Gordon picked up the coin-shaped medallion and studied it closely. It was crusted with dried blood; Gordon scraped the surface of the medallion to reveal a large eye engraved in the middle of it. As he stared at the eye, it began to glow red. Alarmed, Gordon tried to yank the medallion off. He found he couldn't raise it past his chin. He then tried to tug it off his neck. With a frustrated cry, he fell back onto his bed; the medallion would not come off.

The medallion still glowed, and it felt warm against his skin. Without knowing why, the young man picked up the medallion and turned the eye towards his face. The serpent tightened its coils as the voice started to whisper into his mind.