Tracy One
Jeff glanced at his watch for the hundredth time, the bid should be going any minute now, he thought.
John, who was copiloting, saw the action, "You know," he said evenly, "A watched pot never boils."
Jeff cast a sheepish glance at his second oldest, "That may be. But now I know that the bid will be happening soon."
"You knew it would be happening half way through the flight," John pointed out, "Which is where we are."
Jeff shrugged and turned back to flying, "Where do you think Scott got his impatience from?"
"I had no doubts," John smirked, "It is a very common gene among my brothers."
"And you didn't get it?" Jeff quipped.
"Ha!" John snorted, "I tamed it. Being on Five, you have to learn to sit on your hands and do nothing for hours on end!"
Scott at police station
"What can I do for you, now, Mr. Tracy?" The lead FBI on Alan's investigation asked, somewhat rudely.
Scott glared, but didn't snap back a retort, instead he said in a very controlled voice, "Agent Sufern," he started, "Just thought I'd let check in on the search."
"Mr. Tracy, as I have told you many times…this investigation is on-going, and I cannot tell you anything. Perhaps if your father were here, then you could learn some things, but you are not your father," Sufern replied snidely.
Scott ground his teeth and glared harder, satisfied when Sufern took an involuntary step back. "I may not be my father," Scott said coolly, "But I am Alan's oldest brother. I am also the closest relative at the moment. Now my father is flying here right now. And I am pretty sure he would like to know what is going on as soon as he touches down."
Sufern looked away from Scott's glare and at a folder in front of him, "I heard you got the road cleared so he could land closer," he replied trying to get some control back, "So I can tell him in person as soon as he lands."
That was it, Scott had had enough of this stuck up agent; the little angel on his shoulder got dropped kicked by the devil on his other shoulder, and the devil's advice became real nice sounding. Scott took a step forward and got right up in Sufern's face, "I won't let you near him, if that is how you are going to play it. And seeing as he would rather hear how the investigation and search for his youngest son is going, that wouldn't bode well for you. I also know he will side with me, because I have very cooperative with you, despite your inability to tell me how close you are to finding my baby brother!" Scott spoke in a very low and cold voice; but all of his anger went into his words, and Sufern was backed against a desk.
Other officers were watching the exchange, but were, quite frankly, on Scott's side; Sufern was an ass. Sufern looked around and saw he had no back up. Turing his attention back to the angry, tall, dark haired Tracy, Sufern gulped.
Satisfied with the reaction, Scott stepped back and waited.
Sufern stood up straighter and cleared his throat; saving what little dignity he had left, he began, "Well, Mr. Tracy, with the help of your brother's and friend's tracing," Sufern paused and narrowed his eyes, "Still want to know how their trace was so advanced…" Scott took a step forward, "Okay, later. The trace got us down to a ten mile radius. We then eliminated family neighborhoods and the nearest towns. This cut the search area to two thirds the size."
"Two thirds is still a lot of ground," Scott said calmly.
"Yes, and we have started searching all of it. So far door to door and driving have brought the remaining area to half the ten mile radius. Which," Sufern continued cutting off Scott's next comment, "Is still a lot of ground to cover, I know. But there is only so much we can do."
Scott glanced at his watch; it was now five minutes past nine, "The last…bid," he spat the word, "Should have been placed a few minutes ago. That means we will hear from the kidnapper in about an hour."
"We won't even be through half the remaining area in that time," Sufern said.
Scott ground his teeth in frustration, "I know that!" Scott then stalked off; there was nothing else he could do here. In his anger, Scott barely noticed that he punched the wall on his way out, and just got in his car and headed for his hotel.
Once in his room again, Scott finally noticed his throbbing right hand. Great, just great, he thought angrily, just messed up my hand…why not top it off this week with a trip to the infirmary! Gently prodding his abused knuckles, Scott grimaced, probably cracked a bone or something, lovely.
Going over to the little kitchenette in his room, Scott found a standard first aid kit. Running his hand under water, he cleaned and dried his cut skin. After applying some Neosporin, Scott placed a piece of gauze over the affected area. Finishing off the crude bandage with an ace wrap to hold it all in place and stabilize his hand.
Looking at his watch, Scott flopped onto his bed, hissing when he hit his newly bandaged hand, half an hour. Hang on for another half hour, Alan, I'm coming!
Alan's room
"You going to tell me who had the highest bid?" Alan asked as he was led to the table and sat down.
"No," Billy replied flatly, "You will find out when the person comes to get you."
"Why not now?" Alan pushed, feeling Billy cuff his right wrist to the chair
"Because right now you are having your last meal with me," Billy responded placing a plate in front of Alan, taking Alan's left hand he put it over the plate, "This time you have a ham and cheese sandwich and carrots."
"You can still talk while I eat," Alan said picking up the sandwich and taking a bite.
"I can," Billy agreed, "But I won't."
"Can you at least tell me why you won't tell me?" Alan asked between bites.
"Because in half an hour I am leaving you here and calling the winner then loser. You knowing before the winner isn't very fair, is it?"
"In your mind no," Alan grumbled, "But to me it is very fair."
"Well, what I think is what matters," Billy said walking away to grab something. Coming back he continued, "When you're done we'll put fresh bandages on your wrists, ankles and hand, so eat up."
"And if I don't finish?" Alan tested.
"Then in ten minutes I will put fresh bandages on," Billy said firmly, "Whichever comes first, your choice."
Ten minutes later, Alan ate his last carrot, "Alright, wrap me up like a mummy," he said slouching back in his chair.
"Good timing," Billy said taking Alan's left wrist, "I'm going to put some more ointment on then rewrap it, alright?"
"I'm going to guess that was a rhetorical question," Alan replied sarcastically.
Smiling Billy finished applying the ointment and wrapped the wrist again. Taking Alan's left ankle, be started the process again, replying, "Yes, it was very rhetorical."
Ten minutes later, Billy finished wrapping Alan's right wrist and began undoing the hand's bandage. "Still red and ugly," Billy remarked, "Does it still hurt?"
"No more, no less," Alan answered.
Billy put a fresh bandage on silently then stood and un-cuffed Alan from the chair. Lifting Alan to his feet he began leading him across the room. "Alan," Billy finally spoke, "It has been a pleasure getting to know you, but it is time we go our separate ways."
"I don't think I could honestly return your sentiment," Alan said wryly, "But I will say 'bye'."
Billy let out a single laugh, "There's that wit," he said, taking Alan by both shoulders, "Now, I would really rather not drug you, but, I have to warn you, you aren't going to like what I have to do now. So if you resist, I will drug you. It will be a paralytic, so you will still know what is happening; you just can't put up a fight. Then you will stay that way for a while, maybe even until you are picked up. So, are you going to put up a fight, get drugged, and stay trapped in your own body with no control? Or are you going to do what I say, albeit unwillingly, and have control over your own body?"
Alan frowned, not liking either choice…or what they implied about what was about to happen. "What are you going to do, Billy?" He asked nervously.
"Put you in a locked chest," Billy responded matter-of-factly.
Alan cringed and involuntarily tried to back away; but Billy held him still. Taking a deep breath, Alan calmed himself, "Please tell me I will have enough air," Alan said weakly, trying to delay the inevitable.
"Yes, Alan," Billy said calmly, "There is plenty of air. The chest was holes in it to ensure you will have enough."
Swallowing and breathing deeply again, Alan solemnly nodded his head, "I'll do what you say, albeit very unwillingly." Alan shuddered at the thought of a locked chest, and him being in it.
Billy smiled sadly, "Okay," Billy gave a gentle squeeze to the shaking shoulders in his hands, "Start with stepping to your left, lift your foot high, there, put it down," Billy instructed, "Now our right foot, good."
Alan could feel a padded surface under his feet and shuddered again, Billy held onto him the whole time; holding him up or keeping him from running, Alan had no idea, but figured probably both.
"I'm going to turn you now, Alan," Billy informed calmly, doing as he said, "Now sit down."
Alan felt Billy pushing on his shoulders and instinctively resisted, but Billy was much stronger. Holding his left hand out, Alan found the side of the chest and used it to support him as he sat down.
"Give me your hands," Billy said firmly, taking both in his hand, he began tying them together. Alan couldn't stop the whimper that escaped, "It's alright, Alan," Billy said in response, "This will keep you from hurting yourself. Now lay back, that's it," Billy said, pushing Alan gently to lie down.
Alan's breath was quick and shallow as he tried not to panic. Feeling Billy start to tie his ankles, he groaned and weakly tried to kick out of the grasp. Billy gently shushed him and continued his binding.
Alan's hands and feet bound, with a rope connecting them; making it so Alan if Alan lifted his hands, his feet went with them. Billy then knelt near the blonde's head, "Alan, I have to go now," Billy said evenly, "But before I go, I want you to promise me you won't lose yourself, no matter what happens next. Your spit fire attitude is very rare, and without it, you will lose yourself. Promise me you will hold on to it."
"You want me to promise something to you, after you kidnap me and sell me to the highest bidder, and then don't even tell me who the winner is?" Alan asked, his anger flaring to protect and shield him from his fear.
"Yes," was Billy's simple response.
After a minute, "I can't," Alan said weakly, "I can't promise that, because I don't know if I can keep it."
"Then promise me you will try," Billy insisted.
Alan only nodded his promise, fighting to keep his fear filled tears from falling.
"That is all I ask," Billy said softly, "Now, open your mouth."
Is that really necessary! Alan wanted to scream; instead a sob escaped his throat. Breathing hard through his nose, Alan kept his mouth clamped shut.
Sighing, Billy reached over, holding Alan's head still and pinching his nose shut, "I really don't want to suffocate you, Alan," Billy said emotionlessly, "And eventually you will have to open your mouth."
Alan tried to wriggle out of Billy's grasp, but the effort just made him need air more. Finally the need for air took over, and Alan opened his mouth, gasping in as much as he could. Billy gave him a second to get air through his mouth, then quickly put the ball-gag in and lifted Alan's head to fasten it.
As Alan struggled to gulp in air through his nose, Billy stood and put a hand on the chest's lid. "I know this has been far from fun for you, Alan, but, I have to admit, you are at the top of my favorite list of kids I've taken. And I think anyone else will be hard pressed to top you, so thank you for your time, and I hope you have a reasonable life no matter where you go."
Billy heard a muffled response from Alan before he slammed the chest closed and locked it. Without looking back, Billy locked the door to the room, and took out his phone.