Thank you so much once again! Nikki and Whirlgirl - a special thank you to you two as I can't respond directly. Really glad you are enjoying this and hope you like this next chapter.

Pain.

It was the only thing Scott could process as he returned slowly to consciousness. It wasn't just the throbbing in his leg. It felt as if every nerve was on fire, his body screaming at him to surrender back into the darkness. He didn't though. Scott stubbornly forced his eyes open and once he could think past the pain, he knew he was in trouble.

His eyes went wide as he stared around his surroundings. The room – what he could make out – was sparsely furnished; the walls bare and no home comforts visible. There was a small desk in front of him, an old-fashioned bulky computer resting on it and a low chair tucked in. Swallowing hard, Scott winced. He had clearly swallowed more smoke than he thought considering how much that had hurt. But as he looked around again, cold dread settled into him. He wasn't in an ordinary room. He was in some sort of control centre.

Where the hell was he?

Scott shifted as he tried to look around the rest of the room. But his breath caught and his heart skipped a beat. He had realised when he woke that he was sitting up, but hadn't considered how he'd managed it since he had been unconscious. He had just found out.

He was sitting in a high backed chair. Thick straps bound his wrists to the arms of the chair and one jerk of his legs revealed his ankles were being held back in the same way. But what was really making Scott fight back the panic was the strap he could feel around his throat, keeping his head up against the back of the chair. Knowing he was trapped made him struggle, which made him breathe faster. That in turn made him feel the restrictions of the strap even more and increased his panic.

Finally, Scott took a deep breath, held it, then slowly let it go again, forcing himself to calm down. Attempting to ignore the binding around his neck as best as he could, he tried twisting his hands, hoping there would be enough give that he could slide free. He knew with one tug it wouldn't work. But he couldn't sit there and do nothing and so he continued. He had said from the beginning that he was not going to be the next one to go missing. He still stood by that now.

Eventually, Scott let the tension go from his body, forcing himself to relax. He wasn't getting out of this chair on his own and his instincts told him if he continued to struggle, then whoever had taken him was not going to be releasing him from it either. Scott thought about his mystery captor instead. He had barely got a glance at the man before he had blacked out. He was tall, but not overly so. Scott had a recollection of him being bald and was convinced he had been wearing some sort of robe. Other from that, he couldn't bring anything to mind.

Apart from the man's eyes.

There was no way that Scott was going to be forgetting them in a hurry. What colour they had been originally, he had no idea. But he knew he hadn't been imagining the way they had flared yellow. All he remembered after that was excruciating pain flaring through his body. Now he could think about it, however, Scott was convinced that the man's glowing gaze had been what had caused the pain. He had no idea how and while it wasn't normally the sort of thing he let himself dwell on, he could think of no other explanation. It hadn't been the injury on his leg – Scott knew he could handle that level of pain. The man had caused it and Scott shivered.

What precisely had he walked into?

Jolting his whole body, Scott struggled to pull himself free. The chair let out a loud screeching sound on the floor but barely moved. It had taken all of his strength to get it to move that much and Scott knew he wasn't going to be able to move it across the room as he had hoped. But he still refused to do nothing and was panting heavily by the time he let his head thud back against the chair.

He continued to try and look around the room. There had to be some sort of sign of who he was dealing with, but the limited vision and the pain meant Scott gave up on that as well. Just as he let out a long breath, he heard the unmistakeable sound of a door opening from somewhere behind him.

Scott twisted as much as he could, but the chair was too high. He could look at the back of it, but couldn't see over the top. It caused the strap around his neck to press uncomfortably into his skin as he twisted.

Soft footsteps marked the presence of whoever it was approaching. It was almost a relief when the figure appeared in Scott's eye-line, moving across to sit down at the desk.

It was the same man as before, there was no denying that. He moved the chair until he had his back to the computer, facing Scott. Touching the tips of his fingers together, the man rested his chin on them as he watched his prisoner closely. Despite all of his struggles before, Scott fell still and stared impassively back. He had been trained for hostage situations and he knew he couldn't let the man know how unnerved he was by all of this. He couldn't stop his hands from clenching into fists as best they could under the straps, however.

"Who are you?" Scott demanded, his voice low and quiet. He was surprised at how steady it sounded, but made sure he showed no emotion. His captor continued to watch him and Scott was sure there was amusement in his expression. It was almost as if he knew how hard Scott was trying not to shake

"I demand that you release me immediately!" he continued. "I am a member of the US Air Force and you have infringed the legislation in regards to air space by building your weapon. You are to dismantle it instantly and release me from this place."

This time, there was no denying the amusement on the man's face as Scott fell quiet. His heart rate had increased again as he tried to control his breathing, desperate not to show how nervous he was. The man was giving nothing away and - if he was honest - Scott wasn't sure what to do.

"Scott Tracy."

The man had a soft voice. It could have been soothing if it wasn't for the hatred lining the tone. Scott couldn't stop himself from flinching back at the voice, despite having tried to stay still. There was something about it that sent shivers down his spine.

"How did you-?" This time, he knew his own nervousness was showing, but the man simply nodded at him. Scott glanced down at his arm and sighed at his name tag. No wonder he knew his name, Tracy was written across his sleeve. But then Scott realised that wasn't quite right either.

"How did you know my first name?" he asked quietly, knowing there was nothing either on him or in the smouldering ruins of the plane that would lead this man to know that. Even in an interrogation, Scott knew he wouldn't have said it. Name and number, those were the rules. But name only meant surname; first names became too personal if an enemy had them. The man smiled and Scott found that was even more frightening than just being watched.

The man's eyes flashed again and Scott braced himself for the pain he was sure was coming. But nothing happened to him this time, though the computer behind the man flared into life with a groan that Scott could sympathise with. The screen split into eight equal sections, four of which remained black. The top four, however, were clearly some sort of camera feed; different angles of the same room if Scott was seeing it right. There was someone – or something – moving in the centre of all four sections and Scott's heart was beating hard. He couldn't make out what it was, however, until the man leant back and pressed a few buttons. The screens zoomed in, only the active four now being shown. Scott frowned, leaning forward as best as he could. He was now certain it was a person and judging by their movements, their hands seemed to be anchored to the floor through short lengths of either chain or rope. But then the figure turned, twisting in his restraints and Scott couldn't stop the yell from escaping him as the person looked towards the camera.

It was Kevin.

"No! What have you done to him? Let him go!" Scott was struggling against the chair as furiously as he could. Only when he was panting and the strap around his neck felt tighter did he settle for glaring for all of his worth.

"Let him go!" he snarled. He suddenly wished he, too, had the power to drop a man with his eyes alone. The agony he had felt before would be nothing compared to what he would put this man through.

"Don't you want to know how I know your name?" The man was watching him closely again and Scott suddenly realised that the pieces still weren't quite adding up.

Scott froze. Kevin had only been missing for a week. Scott knew what training he had been through to withstand interrogation for it had been the same as his own. There must have been something in his expression that made his captor know what was going through his head. He physically hit a button this time and Scott could suddenly hear Kevin's voice.

"Please, please, please. Hood, please…. Let me go, I'm ready, I'll do it. Please…"

"He came in here," the man said silkily. Scott could barely hear his soft tones over Kevin's begging. "Identified you quicker than blinking. All for the promise of something to eat."

Scott shut his eyes as the man – Hood, Scott could only assume – turned the sound off again. The silence that fell afterwards made Scott realise how heavily he was still breathing. He knew that sound in a man's voice; Kevin had somehow been broken. His mind had effectively been lost to them if he was begging his captor to let him go because he was ready to do something. Scott didn't even want to know what that something was. Yet there was a cold sensation running down his spine that made him wonder whether he would be finding out regardless of if he wanted to or not.

"What have you done to him?" The Hood turned, glancing at the screen before turning back to Scott.

"You should worry more about what I'm going to do. He's ready, he'll do my bidding. But now I have another volunteer and I can't let that go to waste."

Scott tensed, wondering if the man was about to kill him there and then. To his surprise, the man chuckled.

"Oh you won't get out of it that easily. He will still do the task I bid him, he can still infiltrate the Air Force for me. I have another job for you. My scanners indicate you came by ship before plane. I should have known WASP were involved. I'm feeling generous: I will send you back to them."

Scott tried to keep his face blank. It wasn't just WASP though. It was Gordon. His little brother. If the Hood succeeded with him the way he had with Kevin, it would be putting Gordon in danger. Scott couldn't allow that.

"You won't get away with this," he muttered. He wasn't sure if he was delivering a threat or a promise. The Hood laughed again, standing up and turning around. Scott couldn't see what he was doing, but by the time he had moved away, the screen had once again gone blank though the sound continued to play. Scott tried not to listen to Kevin's pleas.

"I already have." The Hood said softly, taking a step towards Scott. Scott glared up at him, but then gasped as all the straps seemed to tighten and he focused his attention on being able to swallow without feeling like he was about to lose consciousness again. The Hood had moved in that time and when Scott regained control of himself, it was just in time to hear the door shutting. Somehow, the lock turning seemed ironic. The door was the least of Scott's worries right now.

He spent the next few moments struggling against the chair, despite knowing his efforts were futile. Still, he knew that he couldn't just sit here. Whoever the Hood was, he was clearly mad. But that madness had potentially already destroyed Kevin in little more than a week. Scott knew that - despite having scored the highest out of his squadron during an interrogation drill - if the man had that sort of power, he wasn't going to be last any longer than his friend. He had just managed to brace himself as best as he could against the chair for an attempt to move it again when a sound came from the monitor that made Scott's blood run cold.

As Kevin's screams seemed to intensify and echo around the room, the pilot found himself struggling more furiously than ever. He had to get out of there before it was too late.

TBTB

Gordon sat with his legs hanging over the edge of the deck, a drink clutched in his hand as he glared angrily with unseeing eyes out to sea. They had moved far enough away now that only the ocean surrounded them, the island nothing more than a distant speck on the horizon. They hadn't, however, moved far enough to stop the great plumes of smoke being visible as his brother's plane had gone down. Gordon had yelled, he had begged them to turn back, but was dismissed as the boat was pointed to the open sea. The commanders had disappeared onto the bridge and everyone else had been dismissed even as smoke billowed into the sky from the island. They clearly weren't taking the chance of staying in range even though no more shots had been fired since the crash.

Gordon had sat with the rest of his team for about an hour before he couldn't take it any longer. Frankie kept sending him concerned looks but Gordon had ignored him. He hadn't even said anything when he had heard him quietly tell the rest of their team that the missing - he didn't say 'presumed dead', but Gordon heard the words there anyway - pilot was Gordon's brother. The silence from the rest of the team was intense before Gordon excused himself and wandered up to the deck. He had yelled out in frustration, but luckily no one had been around to hear him. Eventually, he had sunk to the ground with his feet dangling over the sea and hadn't yet found the energy to move.

He was convinced that Scott had survived the crash. The smoke had been thick; Gordon knew the whole plane must have gone up in flames. But this was Scott. His big brother, the one who was always there to make everything right again, no matter what happened. There was no way that he could be gone. Gordon refused to accept that. He knew the statistics about surviving crashes like that. He knew there wasn't much chance. But still, he knew that Scott was alive. There was no alternative, not in Gordon's mind.

But just as he was sure that his brother was out there, he was convinced no one would be sent looking for him. Whatever was on that island - whatever that weapon Scott had mentioned was - Gordon knew it was enough to keep everyone at bay. They wouldn't risk anyone else meeting the same fate, especially as Gordon knew they were assuming Scott had been killed in the crash. Cursing under his breath, Gordon angrily brushed a tear away. This couldn't be happening. This was never supposed to have happened. He knew there was the potential for something to go wrong with Scott being in the Air Force, just the same as there was the chance that something could happen to him in WASP. But that didn't mean Gordon had ever truly considered the chance that something would happen. He had always been known as the lucky Tracy and Scott was Scott. It wouldn't happen, not to them.

Not again.

Gordon knew his mother's death had almost cost the family more than just her life. The Air Force would have been listening in. If they had already told the rest of the family he had been killed… Gordon gritted his teeth in anger, desperately wanting to throw something.

Scott wasn't dead!

This time, he couldn't stop himself and the bottle that had been resting lightly in a loose grip was suddenly flung violently out to sea.

"Hey." A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and Gordon looked around to see Frankie lower himself down next to him. Gordon held the eye contact for long enough to let Frankie know he wasn't being ignored before looking back out to sea. He had no intention of saying anything. He had left the others because he wasn't in the mood to be sociable with them. If they followed him out here, then that was their fault.

"How you holding up, bud?"

Gordon shrugged in answer, not being sure how he was supposed to say what was going through his mind. Didn't any of them understand that the only emotion he was feeling right now was anger? His brother was alive and out there and no one was going to make any attempt to go and find him! Frankie grimaced, but didn't say anything else, just letting his shoulder knock comfortingly against Gordon's. It seemed he didn't really know what to say either.

"He's alive, you know," Gordon eventually muttered, realising that sitting in silence with someone who cared was worse than sitting in silence on his own. "I know he is."

"Gords, that crash…"

"He's alive." Gordon's tone made it clear that he wasn't accepting any arguments about it.

"I believe you," Frankie said sincerely.

Gordon finally turned to look at him properly and knew in one glance that his friend was not just trying to humour him. Gordon believed that Scott was out there and that was good enough for Frankie. A small smile made its way onto Gordon's face before he turned his gaze back out to sea, realising that maybe some company would be nice after all. Silence fell between them again, only this time it was Frankie who broke it.

"Gords, you know… you know we've got your back, no matter what, right? Me and the guys, I mean. We're here with you on this."

Gordon frowned, wondering what the hell Frankie was talking about. He turned back, studying the man's face as Frankie purposefully avoided his gaze. After a moment, Gordon thought he knew what Frankie was thinking.

"Are you saying…"

"I'm not saying anything, buddy. Only that we've got your back. No matter what you choose to do."

This time, Gordon knew for certain. Frankie was clearly as aware as Gordon that there would be no recovery mission launched for Scott. Frankie didn't know about the weapon. He didn't know what had shot Scott down nor why the boat had already turned around. But he did know that Gordon wanted to go and look for his big brother.

Gordon knew he would never get clearance for it - nor would they let him go alone even if they did say yes. They were considered the newbies of the crew, they wouldn't be allowed out there. Unless, of course, no one knew that he had gone... Gordon bit his lip as he turned back to the sea, only this time, his gaze was thoughtful.

Could he do it? There were plenty of small boats roped to the side of the ship, it wouldn't be any problem to slip down into one of them. The engines were so quiet that over the hum of the main engines, no one would hear him go. But then there was the matter of being seen… He knew he would be caught before he got into the water.

"I'm on pre-dawn watch this time," Frankie suddenly mumbled. It made Gordon aware just how well Frankie knew him. No one else was up at pre-dawn watch. Gordon knew - he had done it enough times. And if it was Frankie who saw him go and then denied it, Gordon knew he could potentially have hours of a head start before they decided to come after him. If they were scared of getting too close to the island, those hours might be just what he would need to get out of their range in order to get away with it… Gordon knew there was every chance that he would be blown out of the water before he got close. But it was better than sitting here doing nothing.

"I'm heading to bed. Wake me if you need something."

Frankie rose and headed back inside, leaving Gordon with his thoughts whirring. He knew without a doubt that Frankie had talked it over with the rest of the team; he had come out here because he was the one who had been chosen to break the news that they would cover for him. Very slowly, Gordon felt a smile slip over his face and he jumped to his feet himself. Ten minutes later and he was back in the dining hall, trying to charm them into giving him some more food, using his age to an advantage and claiming that he was still growing.

He was amazed that it worked, but managed to secure himself some provisions. He hurried back to the cabin and let his small smile turn into a full grin when he found it empty. After all, if the rest of the team didn't know what he was up to, then they couldn't get into trouble for not stopping him.

By the time they did reappear, Gordon was in his hammock. He pretended to be asleep, knowing that the packed bag balancing on the end was enough of a give-away that he was going through with it. They didn't try and stop him, they didn't check to see if he was awake. Nor did they talk about it as he heard them all get into their own bunks.

He knew for sure that they truly did have his back on this.

Frankie woke him with a hand to the shoulder as he slipped out for his shift. Gordon was surprised he had managed to get any sleep at all, for he had lain awake until the early hours of the morning thinking about what he was doing. It would potentially mean that his career with WASP was over, that his dream of serving had come to an end.

But it would also mean that he had his brother back.

At the end of the day, he knew there was no real competition between the two. He would give up his career a thousand times over if it meant that Scott was safe.

He rose swiftly, having slept in his clothes. Shouldering his bag, he slipped out after Frankie, making sure he stayed in the shadows until he was convinced the man Frankie was relieving had made it below deck. Frankie was up on the upper levels of the ship, but Gordon knew it was no coincidence that he had pointedly taken up position facing the other way. There would be no denying that he would get into trouble for this, but Gordon knew it would simply be a slapped wrist for not paying attention rather than the complications of having helped Gordon leave. Anyone on the bridge would be looking the other way believing Frankie had this end covered and the boats were too small to show up on the radar. He could do it.

His footsteps were light and swift as he ran across the deck. Despite knowing there would be no one else around, Gordon was not prepared to take the chance that he could be heard. He knew that he was only getting one shot at this and if it went wrong, it was over. He had to get this right for Scott's sake.

He took the boat on the end, knowing it offered the quickest get-away. He threw his bag in and then pressed down on the lever that lowered it the rest of the way to the water. Using a spare piece of rope, Gordon awkwardly jammed the handle down and jumped into the boat while it was still swinging in mid-air, cursing the fact that it was usually a two person job. He had never been so grateful to hit the water and quickly untied the rope binding the boat to the ship. Firing up the engine, Gordon whispered a thank you to Frankie as he shot out to open sea, heading back towards the island.

"Hold on, Scotty, I'm coming," Gordon whispered, more as a way of reassuring himself than anything. And with that, he moved swiftly back towards the island and, hopefully, towards his brother.