KIDNAP by BOOMERCAT RATED FRPT

A trip to the dentist turns into a father's nightmare.

Jeff Tracy sat at his desk. He reached for the cup of coffee in front of him, but the shaking of his hand caught his eye. He lifted it before his face and stared at it as if it were an object foreign to his body. He swallowed hard against the lump that seemed permanently lodged in his throat and looked away from his hand.

It had happened so quickly. This morning he had ignored his sons as they had turned on one of their own. It was Gordon's turn to take the family jet over to the mainland for that most dreaded of trips, a dentist appointment. Gordon had made the mistake of trying, none too subtly, to get one of his brothers to accompany him, and the boys had jumped at the perceived weakness.

Gordon had fended off the cracks with the skill of long experience. He had left at eight in the morning, headed for Auckland. It was a little after ten when Jeff had received the call.

"May I speak with Mr. Jeff Tracy, please."

Jeff looked at the phone number on his screen. He didn't recognize it, though he could tell by the prefix that it was a New Zealand number. He frowned at the display stating the caller had chosen a voice only transmission. It was a frequent tactic of telemarketers, and Jeff had little patience with them.

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested in whatever you're selling."

Jeff moved to disconnect the call, but paused when the caller said hastily, "This concerns your son, Gordon."

Jeff felt a knot form in his throat. "What about him? Has there been an accident? Who are you?"

The questions tumbled from him. Ever since his son had almost died in a hydrofoil accident, Jeff had suffered from sporadic anxiety attacks, not just where Gordon was concerned but with all of his boys. The next words did nothing to ease that anxiety.

"Mr. Tracy, your son is currently enjoying my hospitality. I find I like him so much that I'm afraid I am going to have to keep him with me."

The voice had remained so polite throughout this astounding statement that Jeff asked in confusion, "What?"

"I don't think I could bear to part with his company, unless..."

"Yes? Unless what?"

"I think five million would do it, don't you?"

Jeff's blood ran cold. Swallowing hard, he said, "Let me talk to him."

"No, I don't think so. I'll tell you what, let's drop the game playing, shall we? If you want to see your son again, you'll get five million dollars. You've got until noon to get the money."

"Noon? That's less than two hours! You can't expect me to get that kind of money together in less than two hours!"

"Well then, I guess our business is over. Goodbye, Mr. Tracy."

"Wait! Wait! All right, I'll get the money, just don't hurt my boy."

"Very wise. I'll call back at noon. Oh, and keep in mind this is a business deal between you and me. You involve the authorities, and I'll know it. Don't make me do anything rash, Mr. Tracy."

"Ten million."

"What?"

"I'll give you ten million dollars, but only if Gordon is unharmed. You so much as ruffle his hair and you'll get nothing." It was a desperate ploy on Jeff's part. He knew odds were that Gordon was already dead. But on the chance that he wasn't, Jeff wanted to make the kidnapper stop and think before he did anything to harm him.

The silence on the other end of the phone went on for so long that Jeff thought the man had hung up. Finally there was a deeply in drawn breath. "You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Tracy."

The man hung up the phone, leaving Jeff Tracy a frightened man. He slapped a switch that would summon his sons, then immediately got on the phone to his bank in Auckland.

Scott Tracy entered the Tracy lounge from the direction of the lab, his brothers Virgil and Alan trailing behind him. At the sight of his father's pale face, Scott immediately became concerned. "Father, what's wrong?"

Jeff held up a hand to forestall the questions and continued his vidphone conversation with the reluctant bank manager. "I don't care how much inconvenience my request causes, I want that money, and I want it now! I doubt your board of directors would appreciate it if I withdrew all of my funds from your bank, but that is exactly what I will do if you don't stop this obstruction."

The manager at the other end of the phone changed her tune, and made soothing noises, saying the funds would be ready on time. Jeff thanked her rather curtly and hung up the phone.

"Boys, your brother has been kidnapped."

The bald statement fell like a bombshell in the room. After the first moment of stunned silence, all three of the young men spoke at once.

"No way!"

"What?"

"Who, Father? Is it the Hood?"

Virgil and Alan looked in horror at their oldest brother. If the Hood got his hands on Gordon...

"No, as far as I can tell, it's just your garden variety thug. He's demanding five million dollars." Jeff reached for a switch under his desk, calling out, "Thunderbird Five, this is International Rescue."

All four men looked over at a portrait of the John. The portrait became a live picture of the middle Tracy boy. "This is Thunderbird Five. Go ahead, Father."

"John, I want you to check Gordon's position."

John's eyes widened in surprise, but he said obediently, "Yes, Father. Give me a moment. Uh... I have him at reference one nine two seven five nine slash four six six. Is there something wrong, Dad?"

"John, signal your brother."

Scott shifted uneasily. If the kidnapper was in the room, signaling could be the worst move. Jeff realized it, but he was banking on the kidnapper having made the call as far away from his victim as possible.

"Dad, he's not answering. What's going on?" John's voice held a hard edge.

"Son, Gordon has been kidnapped. We don't know more than that. I want you to monitor his communicator. If you get anything from it, let me know immediately."

"Yes Father."

Jeff disconnected the call and turned to his eldest son. "Scott, I want you boys to go get your brother. Take Thunderbird One."

"Thunderbird One, Dad?"

Jeff looked Scott in the eye. "The quicker you get to him, the better his chances for survival. I told the kidnapper I'd give him ten million if he didn't harm Gordon, but you and I both know that most kidnap victims are murdered within the first few hours."

Statistics concerning kidnaps and extortion were everyday facts of life when your family had great wealth. Scott nodded grimly and he and his brothers headed for the flagship of International Rescue.

The great silver rocket plane had left a little over twenty minutes ago, and Jeff was beside himself with worry. He wanted to call Scott and beg him to hurry, but he knew that would serve only to make his boy more nervous. He found he couldn't keep from thinking back to his conversation with the kidnapper. What did he mean, he 'liked Gordon's company'? Surely there had not been enough time from when Gordon left to when the kidnapper called for the man to have done much more than snatch the boy?

Jeff had to banish the thoughts from his head. Scott would find his brother, and everything would be fine. He had to believe that. He looked again at the portrait of his eldest, willing it to become a live contact.

As if in response, the eyes of the picture lit up. Jeff pounced on the activation switch. "Go ahead, Scott."

"Father, we've reached the danger zone. It's an old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. There is no way to sneak up on the place, so we are going straight in."

"All right, Son, but be careful, we don't know what this man is likely to do." Jeff was slightly surprised that he was able to get the words out past the knot in his throat.

"FAB, Father. Don't worry. We'll get him back." The determination in his eldest son's voice left little doubt that the kidnapper would regret his actions if Scott had any say.

"I know you will, son. Scott, leave your communicator on."

"All right, Father. Landing now."

Jeff listened to the roar of Thunderbird One's engines as the rocket plane landed. There was a short discussion as the three brothers agreed on tactics.

It was Alan who updated Jeff. "Father, there hasn't been any movement from the house. Scott's setting up the thermal imager now."

"FAB, Alan."

Jeff closed his eyes in a silent prayer. His eyes sprung open at Alan's next report. "Father, there are two life signs in the house, and one is not moving. We think that might be Gordon. The other one looks like he might be carrying a weapon. We're going to go in quickly before he gets any ideas."

"All right, boys. Don't drop your guard."

"We won't, Dad."

Jeff strained to hear as his three sons fanned out around the house. By the jerky movements of Scott's wrist communicator, he could tell that Scott was hand signaling to his brothers. He watched as the view suddenly stilled.

Jeff jumped at the sudden explosion of noise as Scott kicked in the front door to the house. A flash of blue passed in front of Scott's communicator and there was the immediate sound of gunfire. Through the tinny speaker of the communicator, Jeff heard a chaos of sharp reports and yells as his sons threw themselves into danger for the sake of their brother.

Worse. It was much worse that even the most harrowing of rescues. Far worse even than the time that Virgil's ship had been hit by missiles, and Jeff had been left to wait, not knowing if his son could get his crippled ship home without crashing. Jeff was faced with the realization that he could lose everything in the next moments.

He strained to make sense of the chaotic sounds he heard. At one point, he made out Scott screaming, "Virg, look out!" but the ensuing yells were unintelligible above the continuing stutter of automatic gunfire.

After an eternity, the gunfire ceased. Jeff clearly heard Virgil's voice call out "He's down!"

Jeff could stand by no longer. "Scott! Scott, answer me! What's happening?"

After a moment, Scott's flushed face came into view. "The bastard's kidnapping days are over, Father. Virg and I are okay. I sent Alan around to the back, so he's all right. We're going to find Gordon right now."

There was a jerk as Scott went on guard at the sound of a door opening. Jeff felt his heart rise up in his throat, but relaxed when Alan's voice called out, "Guys, I found him. Come give me a hand."

Jeff worked to calm his breathing as Scott chastised his youngest brother. "I thought I told you to keep a guard on the back."

"There was no way I was going to leave Gordon stuck in the middle of a firefight, Scott. I came in the back and found him in this room over here. I don't know what that creep did to him, but he's out cold."

Jeff ran a hand through his hair. His youngest son was brash and sometimes reckless, but he couldn't fault the young man's sentiment. He listened as his sons entered the room where their brother was imprisoned.

"It stinks in here." Alan's disdainful remark did nothing to calm Jeff's fears.

"Scott, talk to me, son." Jeff was amazed that his voice didn't shake.

In the background Jeff could hear Virgil calling, "Gordon? Gordon, can you hear me? Alan, come help me with these ropes."

Scott's face came into view. He glanced at the communicator, but kept his vigil, watching for any movement in the house. "Dad, we've got him. He's breathing, but unconscious. Virgil is checking him over now."

"I don't know, Scott, he's a bit banged up, but the vitals are strong. I don't know why he won't wake up."

"Hey, look at this, fellas."

Scott barked out an expletive. "Dad, it looks like Gordon's been drugged. Alan found a syringe. We're going to get him out of here now."

"All right son, get him home. Oh, and don't forget to bring that syringe. I want to know what the bastard used on him."

"Yes sir."

Scott signed off, and for what felt like the first time in hours, Jeff sucked in a deep breath. He put in a call to Thunderbird Five, but John had been eavesdropping the entire time. Jeff noted that his fair-haired middle son looked about how he himself felt.

"Dad, what are you going to do about the dead guy at that house?"

"You just let me take care of that." Jeff said in a quiet voice. He put in a call to his friend, the superintendent of police in Auckland. The man was unhappy that the Tracy's had taken matters into their own hands, but Jeff was very persuasive when he wanted to be. By the end of the call, Superintendent Wiles reluctantly agreed that under the circumstances the inquiries into the presence of a dead body in a shot-up farmhouse would be kept discreet. Finishing the call to his satisfaction, Jeff sat back to await the return of Thunderbird One.

As the silver rocket was on final approach, the phone rang.

Distracted, Jeff took a moment to compose himself, then made the connection. "Yes?"

"Do you have the money?"

Jeff started strongly. It was the same voice as before. It took Jeff only a moment to realize that this kidnapper was not aware of what had happened. He pushed down the surge of anger, and responded in what he hoped was a tentative voice, "Is my son safe?"

"Yes. He's nice and comfortable. I want the money placed in a suitcase. I want you to take it to the bus transport terminal on Eighth and Winston in Auckland. You, not one of your sons, not one of your lackeys. Go in the northwest door, and sit in the end seat in the first row of seats. Put the suitcase next to you. Wait for five minutes, then get up and leave. Don't look back. As soon as I verify that the ten million is all there, I'll call you and tell you where you can pick up your son. Understand?"

"I understand. But I want you to understand too. If my son is not returned to me, I will use every resource at my command to track you down."

"You better get moving, Mr. Tracy. If you aren't in the terminal by one p.m. the deal is off." Jeff heard the click as the kidnapper hung up the phone. Thinking quickly, he placed a call to the downstairs laboratory, apprising Brains of the situation, and extracting a promise from the young genius to fulfill Jeff's needs quickly.

Glancing at his watch, Jeff bristled. To get there in time, he would have to leave immediately, without seeing his boy. He considered just not going. He could call back his friend, Tom Wiles, and have a trap set, but Jeff wanted to get this man very badly. He wanted to grab this bastard and beat the living crap out of him. He realized that it was probably better left in the hands of the police, but he had never been much of one to delegate responsibility outside of a very small circle of trusted associates including his own sons. If he left it to the police, the perpetrator might escape to visit this nightmare on some other family less capable of defending itself.

As he listened to Thunderbird One settling down onto her launch pad, he stood up and headed decisively for the walkway that would take him to the airstrip and his small fleet of private jets. As he approached the two- seater helijet, he was met by Brains, who handed him a steel-reinforced briefcase.

"It's, uh, ready for you, uh, Mr. Tracy. J-j-just arm it by, uh, f-f- flipping this switch here. Are you, uh, sure you don't want s-s-someone to come with you, s-s-sir?"

"No, Brains. I can't wait for the boys, and I need you here to take care of Gordon. Get on up to the house, they'll be bringing him in shortly."

"Uh, yes, uh sir." Jeff could see the worry in the younger man's eyes, but he had more important things on his mind.

As he climbed into the jet, Brains turned to leave. Jeff called out, "Oh, by the way, Brains, thank you for your help."

Not waiting for any response, Jeff fired up the little jet, and lifted off straight up into the air. He had barely leveled off when his wrist communicator started to beep. Sighing, he responded. "This is Tracy Three."

"Dad, where are you going?" Scott's voice held a note of bewilderment.

Jeff considered not answering, but realizing he had told Brains the whole story, he knew he wouldn't keep the secret for long. "Son, not long after you found your brother, I got another phone call from the kidnapper."

"You mean there was more than just the guy at the house?"

"That's exactly what I mean. He called and wanted to set up a drop. He had no clue that his victim had been rescued. I'm going through with the drop. I'm going to catch this son of a bitch and make sure he can't do this kind of thing again."

"Not alone, you're not!"

"Scott, as much as I would have liked to have waited for you, this guy has set up a timetable that I have no intention of missing."

"Dad..."

"It's all right, son. I know what I'm doing. I had Brains prepare a little surprise in place of the reward. I'll be fine."

Jeff could hear Virgil's worried voice in the background. "That's what Gordon said when he left this morning."

Wanting to change the subject, Jeff asked, "Is Gordon awake yet?"

"Uh, no. No, he's not awake, and frankly, it's got me a little worried. Whatever these guys shot him up with, it's got him totally out. Brains is looking him over now."

Jeff wasn't quite sure how to voice his ultimate concern. "Scott, you said he was banged up. What did you mean by that?"

"He's got bruises all down his left side. Looks like he was thrown up against something."

"Anything else?" Jeff couldn't bring himself to ask, but he couldn't get the kidnappers remarks out of his head. He knew if he mentioned molestation, all of his sons would go berserk, as he himself would is Scott even hinted at it.

"Uh, no. Nothing really. His knuckles are skinned, so I think he probably put up a fight, but other than that and the bruises, he doesn't seem hurt. Why, Dad?"

Scott's obvious confusion over Jeff's pressing the matter relieved Jeff's mind more than his son would know. "I don't like this unconsciousness. Are you sure there's no head trauma?"

"Oh! No, nothing like that. No, it's whatever was in that syringe that's knocked him for a loop."

"All right, Scott. I want you to call me as soon as Brains has any answers."

"Wait, Dad. I still don't like the idea of you going after this guy alone. For all we know there could be a whole gang of these creeps out there."

"Son, he wants this drop in a very public place. My guess is he'll be on his own. It doesn't matter. If there is a gang, I want them all. You take care of your brother. I'll take care of this." Jeff disconnected before Scott could argue.

He knew the risks. It was possible that in the mind of the kidnapper he was a much bigger fish than any of his sons was. Anything could happen. But Jeff didn't care. Nobody was going to touch his family with impunity.

At the helijet's top speed, it took Jeff over an hour to reach the coast. He made landfall south of Auckland. Having flown the route many times before, Jeff headed straight for the Ardmore Airport where Tracy Enterprises maintained a hangar. Following the instructions of the operations tower, Jeff was able to land on the tarmac directly in front of the TE hangar. He was distracted by the sight of the small red jet that was already parked within the open doors of the hangar. It was the jet Gordon had flown out in that morning.

Once he had the helijet shut down, Jeff was drawn to the colorful private jet in front of him. Parked beyond the jet were several ground vehicles, including the antique Harley Davidson that Jeff knew was Gordon's preferred means of transport around town. As he walked up to the jet, he scanned the parked vehicles and realized that none were missing. To Jeff it meant that Gordon had not left the area on his own volition. The drop down door to the jet was not sealed, and Jeff, to his dismay, found a small red stain on the ground near it.

Jeff was not an expert, but it was obvious to him that his son had been bushwhacked as he disembarked from the plane. The anger that he had kept bottled up rose in his throat like a wave of bile, and he reached out and slammed his fist into the side of the plane. The pain brought him back under control and he took a moment to calm his breathing.

Hitting things never solved anything, and Jeff was a practical man. The anger was not gone though, and his stride as he walked over to a highly armored but discreet sedan was a predatory stalk. Like all of the vehicles in the hangar, the black car was kept in top shape, and Jeff was soon on his way to the bus terminal.

Checking his watch as he parked the sedan, he saw that he had missed the deadline by five minutes. There was little doubt in his mind that the kidnapper wouldn't hold to the one o'clock deadline. Not when there was 10 million dollars at stake. Nevertheless, Jeff was careful to follow the remaining instructions to the letter going so far as to use the timer feature on his watch.

When his watch beeped, Jeff casually got up and headed out the same door he had come in. He had tried to glance around at the people in the room, but he was afraid too much curiosity would scare his prey off. He strolled casually back through the small parking lot and got into his car. Just as casually, he drove away. After a few blocks, he pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket, and parked.

He had left his jacket on the seat of the car, and now he reached under the leather garment and pulled out a black box. He opened the lid, which proved to be a computer screen. Jeff sat intently watching a jewel-like button. His concentration was so complete that he jumped a foot when all three passenger doors of the car suddenly opened.

Almost before he could react, Scott slid into the seat next to him. Craning his neck around, he found Virgil and Alan taking up residence in the back seat, looking very grim and determined. All three looked as if they expected an argument, but frankly, Jeff was relieved by their presence. He had left them behind only because he had to. Turning to Scott, he raised an eyebrow and said mildly, "It took you long enough."

His eldest son let out his breath in a laugh, one that was echoed from the backseat. "We pushed the XE40 to her limits. If you'd looked up when you were leaving the airport you would have seen us coming in."

"Was there any word on Gordon before you left?"

"No, nothing, but Brains seemed to think it was just a very strong sedative. He said he thought chances were Gordon would sleep it off and be fine."

Until Scott's reassurances, Jeff had not allowed himself to consider what the long-term effects of the drug that had been used on his son would be. The relief that washed through his system at Scott's words expressed itself as a long shuddering sigh.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Jeff filled his sons in on his plan. "All right, boys, here's the action. I had Brains fit a briefcase with a homing device. We're going to follow this bastard to his lair. When he opens the case, he's going to get a surprise."

Virgil piped up from the back seat. "What kind of surprise, Father?"

"A nasty one. I had Brains put an exploding packet of purple dye in the case. He opens that case, and he'll be marked for months."

"You should have had him rig it with a knife. Better yet, steel nails." His brothers carefully ignored Alan's comment, but Jeff knew they both shared the young hothead's opinion.

"Gordon will be fine, Alan," Virgil murmured the reassurance, but Alan didn't subside.

"If he puts up a fight, I'm going to kill him."

Jeff could not let that statement go unchallenged. "Enough, Alan. I will handle this. You boys are here for back up only, understand?"

Scott shifted in his seat, but replied for them all, "Yes, Father."

"Dad, he's moving!" Virgil had kept his eye on the computer screen.

"All right. Virgil, you navigate." Jeff started the car as Scott handed the compact computer over his shoulder to Virgil.

"He's headed north. I'd say he is about five blocks ahead, and a couple over."

"Hold on, boys, I want to get a look at what he's driving."

Jeff gunned the motor and the black sedan leapt forward. Weaving in and out of traffic was a skill Jeff had perfected long ago, and only a short time elapsed before Virgil said, "Okay, we're just about even with him. I've got him about a quarter mile to the left."

Jeff didn't even acknowledge the remark, but continued on. None of his sons commented, each having total faith in their father's judgement. Jeff continued on for several blocks before turning left onto a major boulevard. He dropped his speed to a bit below the limit and drove on. Luck was with them and as they approached the cross street where the object of their hunt was driving, the light changed to red and they pulled up behind two men on motorbikes.

With their view unobstructed, it was only a matter of waiting until the car in question crossed the intersection. "He's coming up now... There, that one! The yellow coupe!"

All four men craned to get a look at the abductor. The car whizzed by leaving Jeff with an impression of frizzy brown hair and scraggly beard. He was surprised when Scott said, "There was a woman with him."

Jeff hadn't looked beyond the driver of the car. Virgil spoke up. "Dad, I'm not entirely comfortable with this. It's one thing to go up against a thug, but we don't know how involved that woman might be."

Alan replied sarcastically, "Oh, come on, Virg! You don't think she noticed the big steel briefcase? You think she sits at home eating bon-bons and never has a clue where they come from?"

"Quiet, Alan." Jeff said with a note of irritation. "Son, your concerns do you credit, but Alan is right. It's very unlikely that woman is an innocent bystander." A honk from behind and Jeff's eyes flickered to the light, which had turned green. He crossed the intersection and two blocks onward, turned to keep pace with the fleeing kidnappers. As he drove, Jeff's voice turned cold and deadly. "Man, woman or cripple, no one hurts one of my boys and gets away with it."

Silence fell as each of the four men considered that thought. After a few moments, Scott lifted his wrist. "Scott Tracy to Thunderbird Five."

The speed with which John responded reminded them all that there were others affected by the situation. "Thunderbird Five, go ahead Scott."

"John, the bad guys have picked up the briefcase, and we're following them. Did Brains fill you in on the plan?"

"Yes, he did, Scott. I'm tracking both you and the briefcase."

"Any news on Gordon?"

"Yeah. I just talked to Brains less than five minutes ago. He said that Gordon was showing signs of waking up. Brains said he identified the drug that was used, and it is a strong sedative commonly used in dental surgery. He said Gordon was given a stronger dose than usual and that's why he's out, but Brains says he doesn't expect any complications."

Scott repeated thoughtfully. "Dental surgery."

"Yes. And Gordon was going to the dentist this morning. Do you think it's a coincidence?" Although he asked the question, it was clear from John's tone that he didn't think it was.

Virgil asked from the back seat, "How long ago did Gordon make that appointment?"

"He didn't. Grandma did. About a month ago." Scott replied.

Jeff spoke up. "I had Dr. Briles checked out before I ever let any of you boys go to him."

"It doesn't have to be Dr. Briles. He's had trouble keeping staff since the first time I went to him." Alan said.

Jeff could only nod. Godfrey Briles was an excellent dentist but his personality was prickly at best. With the exception of Sally, the receptionist, Jeff never saw the same people twice. Afterthought was a wonderful thing. He should have realized that high turnover could lead to some less than savory types being employed.

John spoke up. "Well, at least we know how they knew Gordon was coming. I won't mind changing dentists. Dr. Briles was always a pain to deal with."

"We'll worry about that later. For now, John, I want you to contact Dr. Briles personally. I want to know who knew Gordon was coming in today."

"FAB, Father."

"It doesn't matter."

Jeff glanced over at his son. "Scott?"

"It doesn't matter how they knew. It only matters that they knew." Scott's tone was grim. "We're taking these people down, Father. That's all that matters."

"Well, we aren't going to take them down if we lose them. Dad, they've turned right. That intersection up ahead will put us behind them." Virgil's calm tones lessened the tension in the car.

Jeff turned at the appointed intersection. They could all see the yellow car up ahead. Traffic had thinned out as they left the city center and entered an area of homes interspersed with green grocers and local shops. Jeff stayed far back, depending on Virgil's navigation to keep them within striking distance.

The men remained silent as Virgil guided them through the winding streets. Finally Virgil called out. "I think they've stopped."

Jeff immediately slowed the car. Alan, looking over his brother's shoulder, muttered. "No, they're moving, see?"

"Yes, but very slowly. I think they've left the car and are on foot."

Scott's wrist communicator started to beep. "Go ahead, John."

"Scott, the bad guys have stopped. I've got a commercial imaging satellite I've tapped in to right overhead. It looks like it's a house. There's a yellow car in front. I'm piggybacking a thermal image command right now... Looks like I've got two heat signatures in the house. They're both in a room at the back."

"Good job, John. We're coming up on the house now."

"FAB, Scott."

The yellow coupe was parked in front of a small but tidy home. Jeff parked the car several doors down in case their prey should look out the front window.

"What now, Dad?" Scott asked.

"We wait."

"What are we wai..." Alan's question was interrupted by a report from Virgil.

"Father, there's a red light here that just started flashing. What is it for?"

Jeff smiled grimly. "They've opened the case. It won't be long now."

Jeff could sense Virgil and Alan exchanging looks. He didn't take his eyes off of the home where his son's kidnappers were getting the surprise of their miserable little lives.

Just as his sons became restless, his cell phone rang. "Scott, let's set this call up through the car speakers so you boys can hear. Alan, I'm the only one who talks."

The phone had rung three times before Scott had made the necessary connections. With a warning glance to all three of his sons, Jeff picked up the phone and made the connection. "Hello?"

"YOU STUPID GIT!!!! YOUR SON IS A DEAD MAN, YOU HEAR ME???"

"I hear you quite well. Actually, my son is fine. It's your accomplice who's dead. As are you, I might add."

There was dead silence for a moment. When the kidnapper spoke again, there was no mistaking the incipient panic in his voice. "You're lying."

"You grabbed my boy at the airport. He put up a fight, but you and your buddy were able to subdue him. You injected him with a dental anesthetic. You gave him enough to insure he wouldn't wake up for a long time. Then you tied him up and your buddy drove him out to a farmhouse in the country. You haven't heard from your buddy since."

"That's all guesswork. You're trying to con me."

"Well, if that's what you choose to believe, then I guess our business is over. Goodbye." Jeff disconnected the call.

"We'll give them a few moments to try and call their friend."

"Dad, uh, what did you mean when you told him he was dead too?" Virgil asked curiously.

"I'm hoping he'll want to ask that question too."

It took less time than Jeff had anticipated for the kidnapper to call again. Again, Jeff let the phone ring, picking it up after the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

The line was dead for a moment, then the kidnapper spoke. "All right, you got your flaming son back. We'll call it even."

"No."

"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'NO'? YOU CAN'T TELL ME NO! YOU THINK A BIT OF DYE IS GOING TO STOP ME? I'LL FIND YOUR FRIGGIN' SON AND I'LL DO HIM! YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Calm yourself. You have little enough time as it is."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???"

"You probably noticed the sting when the dye hit you. That was a very advanced contact poison that was developed by a top-secret lab that I happen to own. In about an hour, you are going to start to feel nauseous. Your eyesight will fade, your hearing will disappear. Gradually your body will go numb, and you won't be able to feel your arms or legs. Within a day, your tongue will start to swell. That's what will kill you. Your tongue will swell to the point that it will block your breathing. You'll gasp for air, but it won't do you any good."

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT! I'LL TELL THE COPS! THEY'LL THROW YOU IN PRISON!!"

Jeff just sat and waited. He could hear the kidnappers coarse heavy breathing. Finally, the man calmed down enough to speak in a frightened voice.

"What do you want, Tracy?"

Jeff's voice was cold and ruthless. "I've got what I want. You kidnapped my boy, and now you're paying the price."

"Look, this stuff. It hit my wife too. You don't want a woman's death on your conscience, do you?" The man was crying now.

"Your wife works for Dr. Briles?"

"Yes. Yes, she works for Dr. Briles. She was talking to the receptionist on a break and found out your son was coming. She told me, but she didn't have anything to do with it, I swear to God. Please, you can't let her die, she's pregnant! Please..."

"Why should I let your son live? You had no intention of letting mine."

"No. No, we weren't going to kill him. I swear, we weren't going to kill him. Once we had the money, we were just going to take off and leave him there. He would have woke up and gotten loose. I swear, we aren't killers!"

"I'll tell you what. You and your wife go to the police. You confess everything, and I do mean everything. If you do, the police will call me to confirm it. If Gordon is awake and all right by the time they do, I'll let him decide whether or not you get the antidote. If he isn't, well, then you're on your own."

"Tell him my wife's pregnant. You've got to tell him my wife's pregnant."

"I'm a busy man, and you're running out of time." Jeff disconnected the phone.

He watched steely-eyed as the two would-be kidnappers flew out of the house, and jumped into the car. The yellow coupe flew past, the panicked occupants never even noticing the inhabitants of the sleek black sedan. Jeff watched them go, then started the car and swung around to follow them. "We'll just make sure they make to the police station, then we'll head for home."

"Uh, Dad?" Alan sounded uncharacteristically meek. "Is there really a poison like that?"

"Oh, I suppose there is, somewhere in the world. Not in that dye though."

As he followed the speeding yellow coupe down the road, Jeff noticed his sons were very quiet. A glance in the rearview showed both Virgil and Alan sitting wide-eyed and pale-faced. He looked over to Scott to find his eldest no less pale, but with a private little smile on his face.

The yellow coupe screeched to a halt in front of a building marked 'Police' and the frightened man and his wife leaped out and ran up the stairs. With a nod of satisfaction, Jeff steered the car towards the highway. Looking again at Scott, he asked curiously, "A penny for your thoughts?"

Startled, Scott looked over at his father and ruefully shook his head. "I think I can speak for us all when I say I'm glad you're on our team."

>From the back seat came calls of "Amen", and "Hear, hear". Jeff smiled and turned to his driving.

Sometime later, Jeff Tracy wearily trod the path that would take him from the airstrip to his home. Alan walked at his side, still quiet after the events of the day. Jeff knew he would have to address his actions, but for the moment, his youngest son's silence was welcome. Scott had opted to fly the family's red jet home, and Virgil offered to take the helijet, leaving the fast XE40 to Jeff.

Entering the home through the lounge, Jeff dropped his jacket on a chair and headed for the sickroom. The sound of voices made him detour into the kitchen. His stopped dead inside the door. Gordon was sitting at the dinner table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, eating as if nothing had happened. He and Brains, who sat nearby looked up at Jeff's entrance. "Hey, Dad."

It was all so heart-stoppingly normal, that it was all Jeff could do not to swoop down and gather his son in his arms. "Hey, son. Are you all right?"

"Oh sure, I'm fine. Sorry about the kidnap thing."

"It's all right, son. Not your fault. You're sure you're all right?"

"Uh huh. Just hungry, is all."

"Very well, then. This morning's little escapade has thrown my schedule out the window. I had better get to work."

As Jeff left the room he saw Alan sidle in with a cautious glance. Jeff sighed. Gordon was going to get an earful along with his corn flakes.

Jeff sat himself at his desk and took in a deep breath. He looked lovingly at the portraits of his five sons lining the wall, letting his gaze linger for just a moment on his ginger-haired fourth son. Letting out the breath, he pulled out a report and got to work.