Getting there! Thanks to everyone who's stuck with the story. Hope you all had a good Christmas!
Chapter 17
Over to you, Virgil!
John: 70 points
Virgil: 69 points
Scott: 68 points
Alan: 60 points
Gordon: 37 points
Gordon hadn't slept well. A tooth that had given him a few twinges lately but which he'd delayed seeking treatment for due to the demands of the Tracylimpics, had failed to cope well with the vast quantities of cold ice-cream he'd consumed the previous day. He couldn't help but hope that Virgil's challenge would be something quick and easy so he could get over to the mainland and seek help from his dentist. A sedentary activity such as composing or painting, however predictable, would suit him just fine, and he somewhat regretted the hard time he'd been giving Virgil, especially the previous afternoon. Winding his brother up had taken his mind off his tooth for a while, but when Virgil, after issuing dire - and uncharacteristic - threats of violence, had locked himself in his studio for the rest of the day, not even turning up for dinner, Gordon knew that he'd gone too far. He'd apologise later – maybe…
He got up, trekked down to the pool for his usual 50 laps, then went back to his room for a shower. Joining Scott, his father and Grandma at the breakfast table, he let his coffee cool right down before risking a sip.
"I'm sure Brains has something in the infirmary that will help," Grandma told him, patting his shoulder. "I'll go and find it for you."
"It had better not be anything that'll give him an advantage today," Scott laughed. "Nothing hallucinogenic that'll get the creative juices going."
"So that's definitely what it is then?" Jeff asked. After all, if anyone had any idea about Virgil's secret challenge, it would be Scott.
Scott shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Dad."
"Where is he, anyway?" Gordon grumbled. "I thought we were supposed to meet at ten for the big announcement."
"It's not time yet," Grandma pointed out. "And you know your brother. He'll still be fast asleep."
"Or just keeping his distance from Gordon," Scott muttered, having spent a large part of the previous evening trying to coax Virgil out of his studio.
But when ten o'clock came and everyone, competitors and judges alike, had assembled in the lounge, there was still no sign of the middle Tracy brother.
"Go and wake him up, Dad," said John.
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Jeff headed off to Virgil's room.
"He'd better have something good for us," Alan muttered. "Keeping us in suspense like this."
"He didn't seem too happy yesterday." John said. "Though of course, that might be because he lost my challenge."
Scott groaned. "Let's not talk about your challenge. I don't think I can face chocolate or ice-cream for at least a year."
John grinned. "Really? I was planning on having some after my lunch. Maybe two helpings."
He dodged the cushion Scott threw at him.
The door slid open and they looked up expectantly, only to see their father entering alone.
"Isn't he up yet?" Gordon asked. "I don't mind throwing a bucket of water over him if that'll help."
Jeff frowned. "Actually, Gordon, I think he is up. At least, I don't think he ever went to sleep. His bed's not been slept in. He's not in his studio either."
The others looked at each other in confusion.
"He's fallen asleep in Two before," Scott mused. "I'll go and have a look."
"Only when he's been really stressed," said John. "Guess he really is worried about this challenge."
Scott was soon back in the lounge. "No sign of him. Two's shut up tight."
"Can't you call him via his watch, Jeff?" Grandma asked, concerned about her boy.
Jeff shook his head. "His watch is on the bedside table. So's his phone."
"Well he must be somewhere," Alan declared. "Hey, maybe that's the challenge. Hide and seek. Come on, let's find him!"
Four brothers left the lounge. A few minutes later, they burst back in, making their grandmother jump.
"Did you find him?" Jeff asked Scott. He didn't initially register the look of panic on his usually calm son's face, nor how subdued Alan and Gordon had suddenly become.
"No. Dad, the jet's gone. Virgil's not on the island anymore."
Jeff shot across to his desk and activated the comm that would link him to the family jet.
"Virgil, come in. Come in, Virgil. Virgil, this is your father, come in, please. Virgil?"
There was no response.
"Where's the jet?" Scott asked, tapping his fingers impatiently as Jeff activated the tracker.
"Mainland," Jeff said, finally. "He's at the airfield. Or at least the jet is. But I can't believe Virgil would just leave without telling anyone. What's been going on?"
"It was Gordon's fault!" said Alan.
"It was Alan's fault!" said Gordon simultaneously.
"It was both of you!" Scott told them, cuffing each brother sharply across an ear. "You had to keep pushing, didn't you. Dad, I'm heading out to the airfield. Maybe he told someone there where he was going. Keep trying him."
Since Virgil had taken the jet, Scott was forced to take the older craft the Tracys kept for short trips to the mainland. He wished his father had let him take Thunderbird One. Okay, so he couldn't just land it at the airfield, not when he was going to appear as Scott Tracy, but surely they could have worked something out. He couldn't help but worry. What had Virgil been thinking? Where was he? Would Scott even find his brother? Unable to contain his worry he pushed the little plane to its limits, making it to the mainland in double-quick time. Taxi-ing over to the Tracy jet and jumping out without even bothering to lower the steps, he was frustrated, but not surprised, to find it deserted.
"Where the hell are you, Virg?" he muttered. "I've never known you run away from anything."
Preparing to head over to the field office to see if anyone could shed any light on the whereabouts of the missing Tracy, he hesitated at the sound of a vehicle approaching. When the van Kyrano used to collect provisions on a supply run appeared, a dishevelled Virgil at the wheel, Scott couldn't help but let out a whoop of joy.
"Hey, Scott!" Virgil jumped out of the van. "What are you doing here? You- Ow!"
He was treated to a more forceful version of the ear-cuffing his younger brothers had experienced earlier that day.
"What was that for?"
"Oh, only for disappearing with no means of communication and worrying us all sick."
"Ah." Virgil looked contrite for just a second, before grinning widely at his brother. "Yeah. Sorry. But I finally knew what my challenge was going to be and I needed to pick up a few things."
"A few things?" Scott glanced into the van which was full to bursting with boxes. "That's not a few-" He broke off as not one, but two fairly large vans pulled up next to them. "For real?" he asked as the drivers got out and started unloading boxes of all sizes along with what seemed to be a fairly large grocery shop.
Virgil smiled. "For real. Come on, you can help me load up and then we can get back. I could do with some breakfast."
"What time did you leave anyway?" Scott asked.
"About 3am. I couldn't think of anything other than a song or a picture and I knew the brats would never let me live it down, especially when I've been promising them something unexpected. I couldn't even face going to bed – I knew I'd just toss and turn for hours - so I sat on the balcony thinking about things. And then it came to me! I guess I was so excited and there were so many things I needed to get that I set off without thinking to let anyone know. Anyway, you were all in bed. Though actually, once I landed and realised the stores would be closed till morning, I just went to sleep in the jet. Just as well – I'm going to need some energy for later."
"What exactly came to you?" Scott asked, utterly baffled. He flinched as Virgil batted his hand away when he attempted to peek into one of the packages.
"You'll have to wait till we're back on the island. If that antique you're flying can even make it home. I'm guessing you all but burnt the engines out on the way over."
"Oh she'll make it." Scott informed him. "And since she isn't carrying half a ton of… whatever, she'll probably be home before you."
Some time later, once Virgil had finished apologising to his father and grandmother for the worry he'd caused them, the family and their guests gathered in the lounge.
"So," he said, stepping up to the scoreboard. "I guess you want to know what my challenge is."
"It would be nice," Jeff said dryly. "I think we've all waited long enough."
"Hear, hear!" agreed his four brothers and Parker.
"Okay." Virgil couldn't keep the grin off his face. "So, the final challenge of the Tracylimpics is…" he paused dramatically.
"Is…"
"Get on with it!" a chorus of voices cried.
Virgil opened his mouth, closed it, then dived for the piano.
"I knew it!" Gordon declared. "It's music."
"It's NOT music!" Virgil told him indignantly. "The final challenge of the Tracylimpics is, my dear brothers…"
He played a loud and dramatic dah, dah, dah, dah, dah, dah, DAH! before shutting the piano lid, standing up and finally announcing…
"It's the Tracylimpics!"
He was met with a sea of blank faces for a few moments. Then pandemonium broke out.
"Genius!" exalted Gordon. "Virg, I take back everything I said."
"I'm not sure I understand," Penny said, having to raise her voice to be heard over the enthusiastic whoops from Scott and Alan. "The Tracylimpics? I thought that was what we've been doing."
"You'll see!" Jeff was no less delighted than his sons. "The original Tracylimpics were just a load of games on the beach. Kids' stuff in those days, of course: ball games, races, sandcastles. A hell of a lot of fun! It's a wonderful idea, Virgil."
Virgil basked in the glory for a few moments before he called them all to order. "There are quite a few parts to this challenge. Points for everything! First game: it's a race. Get changed and get down to the beach!"
The brothers had never moved so fast.
