Well, here's the third and final chapter of Home Turf. There will be an epilogue to this, but I wanted you all to have this chapter first, so you could know what happened to the boys. My sister found part of my first chapter and said she wanted to know what happened to Alan. She read through both of chapters when I let her, and said she wasn't going to be able to sleep because she didn't know what was going to happen to Alan. You can thank her for having this chapter a bit earlier than usual. The epilogue should be posted either Thursday or Friday depending on internship/class.
One special note. Someone mentioned that Gordon was twelve in one chapter and thirteen in the next. I apologize that I can't find where Gordon said he was thirteen, although if I do I'll change it. Gordon is 12 in this book.
Please R&R if you liked this!
Thanks to PHX for her line, which is cited in the first chapter. It comes from her book 'Water Pressure.' The Property Of Scott T-Shirt is also PHX's, from the book 'There Are No Virgins Among Us' and I think 'A Very Long Day.' Thanks for Criminally Charmed, who looked over the first chapter for me; and thanks to everyone who reads and reviews! The Hardy Boys do have a guest bit in here also, since I know that some of you also like them. Plus, their part just seemed to fit. ^.^
"Someone's missing," Matthew said anxiously. He was holding his gun, but for a change, it wasn't pointed directly at Scott. Scott used the opportunity to quickly scoop Alan up into his arms, wincing when the seven-year-old stirred in his sleep. "Who's missing?" he demanded.
He ducked his head in the other room, seeing both Gordon and Virgil there. Virgil looked slightly put-off by the man's reappearance, and Scott couldn't bring himself to worry – he was more worried about the man reappearing!
"That's it," the man said, muttering under his breath. He raised his pistol. "Someone's going with me. My wife and I are splitting up; we can't afford to be seen together."
"I'll go with you," Scott volunteered instantly. He had yet to see the man's wife and hoped that she wasn't here, or, better yet, didn't exist. He started to hand off Alan to Virgil, but was stopped by Matthew, who placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"No," Matthew said, a dangerous glitter in his eyes, "The kid stays with. I don't trust him or you for a second. You come with me."
Scott shot Virgil a look, one that he hoped conveyed, protect Gordon. He sighed, there was no time to get his only way of communicating – his iPod touch – out of the corner he'd stashed in. Scott jerked his thumb to his room, hoping Virgil would understand his command.
As he followed Matthew outside, Scott couldn't help but let his mind wander. He hated taking Alan with him; he'd really hoped to leave him behind. Matthew had already resorted to violence against both of them twice.
Scott was roughly shoved into the RV and the door was slammed. Matthew must have pulled himself into the truck that attached to the RV trailer, because the RV took off.
"John!" Jeff Tracy said, hugging his second-eldest son tightly. He was relieved that the teenager was okay, and more importantly, that one of his children was safe. He glanced up at the agent who was standing next to him. "Thank you, uh..." he glanced at the man, trying to remember his name.
"Colby," the man responded, extending his hand. "Colby Granger. It's no problem, sir."
"Yo, Colby!" Another FBI agent said, walking toward him. "We got a tip from our detective kid's friends in New York. We might have spotted something." He nodded at John. "Glad to see you back safe, kid. We'll get your brothers home, you'll see."
"Does he have brothers?" Jeff asked, looking at Don's retreating form. He couldn't explain why, but he felt like he had heard the man's name somewhere before.
"Yeah," Colby responded, "His brother's Charlie Eppes – you've probably heard of him. I gotta go, though, we got a lead. Maybe we'll have coffee," he responded as he took off, following after his boss.
Jeff couldn't complain. The team had worked without sleep trying to find his boys - one of the best teams he'd ever worked with.
"Hey, John," another man said. He was also an FBI agent, his badge on his jacket proved it. "My name's David Sinclair. Can I ask you a few questions about what happened?"
John looked at his father, and then nodded slowly. Although John was normally not the clingy type, he didn't want to leave his father right now. He, too, was terrified about his brothers. Scott and Alan hadn't been treated well this far, who knew what hell they'd put through when the man found out he'd escaped?
"It's okay," David responded. "We can just talk here. I just wanted to ask you a few questions. We can use the information to help your brothers, okay?"
John just nodded. Jeff sighed. He was grateful that John was back safe, but he couldn't help but be worried about his other boys, too.
The two teenage boys had been walking in their friend's trailer park when they'd heard the scream. Always curious about investigating a ruckus, they had gone over and followed the noise they'd heard. They had returned in time to see someone being shoved into a truck.
Joseph Hardy, the youngest of the two boys, had wanted to take after the truck, but Frank Hardy, the oldest, had stopped him. "Look!" Frank had said, hissing as he pointed to the side of the yard. "There's blood. Joe, someone might be hurt."
The seventeen-year-old boy glanced at his eighteen-year-old brother as if he had three heads. "Yeah, Frank, I know what blood means. It's what flows through your veins and—"
"Shove it, Joe," Frank said, clamping his hands over Joe's mouth as they heard the wail yet again. Cautiously, the two boys moved forward.
"Hey!" Joe responded, moving toward the man. He signaled for Frank to attack the other man from behind. There was a teenager - probably not much older than thirteen - lying on the ground being attacked by someone much, much older. The teen was lying on the ground, trying to defend himself, but not having much luck. "What's wrong with you? Let him go!" Joe demanded, moving forward.
The man whipped around. This had been the "wife" that Matthew had mentioned – not much of a 'wife' at all, but a good cover story, at least that's what Matthews had thought. Now the man was pissed – Matthew was leaving him here to take the fall for kidnapping Tracy's kids.
And there was no way in hell he was going to take that without having a little entertainment of his own. So what if the wuss he was attacking couldn't handle being kicked a few times? It wasn't James fault the teenager was raised protected.
"Get out of my yard," James said, moving towards Joe and away from Gordon, which had been Joe's plan all along. "I can arrest you for trespassing!"
"Oh, yeah?" Joe shot back, seeing Frank move in closer to the teenager. "I can arrest you on charges of child abuse. Tell me, asshole – which one do you think will stand up more in court?"
With that, the man launched towards Joe, and Frank used the opportunity to lift the teenager out of harm's way. "What's your name?" Frank asked quietly, eyeing Joe, who was using every tactic he knew how to avoid the fight that looked like it was about to start.
"G-G-Gordon Tracy," the teenager finally said, a tear streaking down his face. "I d-d-don't want to be here."
Frank didn't blame him. He didn't want to be here, either. Speaking of which… "Joe, let the nice man live," he said as he made his way over to his brother, who was sitting on the man. Frank took off his belt and used it to tie the man's hands.
"Now we get some answers," Joe grumbled, "about why we missed our lunch."
Gordon had sobbed out the whole story to Frank as Joe had waited for the man to be picked up by the local police. Apparently, he was the son of Jeff Tracy – who that was, Joe didn't know - and he and his brothers had been kidnapped earlier that day. When his older brother had escaped, the man who had kidnapped them – Matthew something – had been "downright pissed". He'd taken off with two of Gordon's brothers, but according to Gordon, there was still one brother in the house.
Frank had shot Joe a look, which Joe took to mean 'stay with the kid', and went inside the house.
"So," Joe said, trying to make conversation with Gordon, who appeared shaken, "You said you have four brothers?"
Gordon nodded. He swallowed hard and used his shirt to dry his tears. Virgil would never let him live it down if he was seen crying. Then again, maybe given the circumstances of the day… "Yeah," Gordon said, "Scott's the oldest. He's seventeen. Then there's John. He's sixteen. Virgil's fifteen, I'm twelve and Alan's seven." Gordon sniffled, and then said, "Almost eight," as an afterthought.
"Wow," Joe said, his eyes wide, "And I thought I had it bad by having one older brother!"
That got Gordon to laugh, very much Joe's intention. Frank, having come out of those words with another teen in tow, said, "Yeah, but Joe, without me, who would be there to bail you out of trouble?"
Gordon looked from Frank to Joe. Joe seemed to be contemplating what Frank had said. "Yeah, well, there is that." It was then when the police car pulled up. "Come on, you two," Joe said, "Let's get you home."
It was then when Virgil noticed his brother for the first time. "Gordon!" he said, noticing the boy's injuries. "You're safe! Can I help you with your arm? It looks—"
"No!" Gordon said, remembering the last time that Virgil had attempted to help him with first aid. "Not after last time, your 'remedy' made me sicker than I already was!"
"Hey, not fair. I was experimenting! All great doctors make mistakes."
"Yeah, but not on me!"
Frank and Joe smiled. The two boys would get back to normal, despite what they'd been through.
Scott couldn't tell what time of day it was when he felt the trailer stop moving. He didn't really care. Right now, his priority was Alan. The seven-year-old had been injured, and Scott was trying to see what he could do to calm him down. Scott couldn't really do much with the physical injuries until he got Alan to a hospital, which he fully intended to do. He was hoping to see the full extent of Alan's injuries, which he couldn't do until Alan calmed down.
"It's okay, Alan," Scott said, tenderly wrapping his younger brother in a hug. He felt the sobs come down like raindrops and he knew Alan was more stressed out than he was. Finally, the youngster seemed to be dried out of tears, and he clung quietly to Scott's chest.
"Want to tell me about it?"Scott whispered. He didn't know if this would work with Alan yet or not. It had seemed to work with all of his other brothers so far, though, so there was hope.
"He… I… hate him!" Alan said, bursting into tears. "He's mean! And he hitted me! And you! And I want to go home!"
Scott knew exactly how Alan was feeling, especially on the I want to go home part. Although he had a few more choice words that he could have used for the man that was holding them captive other than 'mean.' It takes a really stupid man to take on the Tracys… Scott thought, bitterly hoping that his other younger brothers weren't in peril.
"This is the FBI, Matthews! Open up!" A voice demanded. Scott glanced at Alan, who was startled by the loud noise, and he burst into tears. Suddenly, Scott wished very much that he had been dealing with a scraped knee.
God, if you get us out of this, I promise I'll never complain about Alan's scraped knees again, Scott thought as he heard a shot fire out. The next thing he knew, the door opened. He wrapped his arms around Alan protectively, not wanting to let him go.
"Scott?" one of the FBI men demanded. He had brown hair and was chewing bubble gum. "Scott Tracy?"
Scott could only nod numbly, thinking, this is the FBI, we're safe, we're going to go home.
"Alan Tracy with you too?" the man asked as he used his flashlight to do a quick scan of the RV trailer perimeter.
"He's my brother," Scott responded, "and he's right here. My brothers? Are my brothers okay –"
"Yeah, it's okay, kid. We have them," the man said. He knelt down next to Scott. "My name's Don. Don Eppes. I'm with the FBI. You're safe, kid."
Normally, Scott would have protested about being called 'Kid', but at the moment he didn't care. He was safe and that was what mattered. But – "Matthews?" he asked.
"Won't be bothering anyone anytime soon," Don muttered as he helped Scott up. "I can take him, unless you want too…"
Scott glanced at Alan, who had just fallen asleep in his arms. "He ain't heavy," Scott said, "he's my brother."
Don put his arm on Scott's shoulder. "I understand, Kid. Let's go see your Dad, huh?"
So, our boys are out of hot water - for now until my next piece, anyway. But how will the reunion go? Look for a posting about Thursday or Friday.