#tb collateral

“Wait, you can't...” Penny's attempt to stop the brothers crashing into the corridor fell on deaf ears.

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Jody had cleared the first two layers of security and was patiently waiting for the security guard to make the final clearance and bring her to her client.

“All a bit strange, this one,” Fred commented conspiratorially.

“Indeed,” Jody was not going to be drawn. “How’s Peter finding sixth form?”

The older man grinned at mention of his youngest son. “He’s loving the social life but not so much the workload.”

Whatever Jody had been going to reply was cut off by the sudden sounding of an alarm.

“What the...?” Karl leapt for the console. He swore. “That shouldn't...You better stay here!”

Jody had moved with him and looking over his shoulder at what the alert was ignored the last part of his statement, that was her client!

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“But our brother...”

“I'm sorry sir but I am going to ask you to move aside please. You cannot access the cells, I don't care who is down there. “

“He needs help!”

“Then he'll be getting it, sir. Now back away!” his hand rested on the Taser on his holster.

A man with a black bag and a security pass marked medical came hurrying up and the three were forced to move aside as the security guard waved him quickly through.

Was he there for Scott?

Virgil nearly pushed after him but Penny grabbed his arm and forced the irate man to take a step back- palm flat in the centre of his chest.

“Let me!” her glare dared them to disagree as she turned back to the security guard. “I'm sorry. I know you are just doing your job but as you can see my friends are...” she eyed the two Tracy’s who looked about ready to pull the building apart, “concerned about their brother. Clearly something is going on but if we can't go down some reassurance might help...” again she paused, “relax the situation.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Please!”

He regarded her a moment then stepped away and spoke into his radio. He nodded, face grim then turned back to Penny.

“All I can do is to assure you if there is a problem with one of our detainees they are receiving appropriate care.”

“Thank you,” Penny cut across John before he could say what he thought of that lack of information. “We’ll wait back in here then.” She turned and herded the two frantic men back into the side room they had been waiting in. “John dear. The tablet,” she picked it up and handed it to him. Understanding her the astronaut shook himself and bent over the tablet, fingers flying as he sought less official reassurances of his own.

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The terror was overwhelming. Lost in a nightmare of sounds and images his lungs burned. A small part recognised his breathing was too fast and too shallow but he couldn't stop it.

Darkness threatened the edge of his vision. Unable to focus on the dark shadows threatening around him, he struck out at the faceless shapes that loomed. They would not take him.

Not again.

The barking. Hands attempted to grab him again.

No, no, no, no!

There was a grunt as one of his uncoordinated blows connected. The threat retreated and he dropped back pushing himself with frantic hands until he felt the hard wall behind. With nowhere else to go he curled in on himself on the floor.

Loud Voices echoed. Angry.

He waited for blows that didn't come.

Then suddenly loud music startled him. Just enough to break the panic slightly.

“Please, wait” a woman’s voice, vaguely familiar. “Let me try this before you give him...”

English.

He couldn't catch the rest of her sentence or the deeper voice that replied. But trying to focus on it pulled him closer to reality.

“See, he's coming back.”

More sounds from deeper voices.

Now he turned his face towards the voice. The music continued.

It was loud. Classic rock? Like Alan currently favoured. Alan?

Thought of his youngest brother woke a little more of his awareness.

“Don't talk breathe. Good. Yes. Like that. In...out” The voice kept talking. Steady and calm. Anchoring. “That’s the ticket. Again.”

That Place did not have a voice like that.

It just kept talking. About nothing that he could make sense of but a body gently pressed against his side- he was on the floor he realised. Not comfy but not cold stone. He half expected it to be Virgil beside him but then he realised it wasn't; remembered why and the panic flooded back, his breathing speeding up again, vision tunnelling.

The voice became more urgent “Scott...I know but... just another moment, please. He’s not going to pass out, we've got this.”

The male voice spoke again, low and indistinct but the woman's didn't falter now just kept up a steady stream of speech.

He flinched as a large hand gripped his wrist the way Vigil sometimes did but the grip was gentle pressing lightly on the inside of his wrist so he didn't pull away. The voice kept talking. He relaxed ever so slightly.

Gradually, gradually his breathing returned to something approaching normal.

He began to focus on what was actually being said. The occasional word eventually becoming full sentences. He listened a moment eyes closed, focusing on breathing more deeply as his scattered thoughts began to understand the words.

“Are you... are you reciting...case law?”

“You didn't respond to my thoughts on Ugg boots so yes.”

He huffed a breath that might have been amusement under other circumstances.

“You back?”

He nodded his head once. Focusing on trying to steady his breathing to the rhythm he realised the woman was gently tapping in his leg.

The woman he realised was his barrister. Who he had only just met. This should be humiliating but he was too tired, the emotions from the flashback still too real to actually care.

“Can you tell me three things you can see?”

He raised his head slightly, “Shoes, sink...” a pause as his eyes focused, “grey hair?”

“Sorry, mine.” A hand reached out and grabbed the wig from the floor, “It's itchy. I'm supposed to ask if you mind me removing it but well...”

He waved a hand indicating retrospective permission.

“What do you hear?”

“My youngest brother’s playlist?”

A laugh.

“What else? “

“You, voices outside.”

No dogs.

“Good that's good.”

They sat pressed together on the floor for a moment. His thoughts began to form more coherence. “How did you know about the music? That it’d help.”

“My older brother.”

Scott turned to look at her. She smiled a little sadly.

“Flew combat like you. He... this...happens sometimes. .” she gestured their current location.

Scott simply nodded. Enough said.

Movement in his periphery made Scott start back cracking his head hard on the wall. He swore.

“Careful!”

A large man was kneeling to his left just outside his immediate line of sight watching him carefully. He smiled warmly when Scott turned his head to look at him.

That was mildly unnerving. Now he was more aware of his surroundings, he could see at least two other men in the corridor beyond the open door.

“Good to have you back, Mr Tracy.” Scott looked at the stranger slightly wary. Beyond him on the floor he could see the open medical bag, he sucked in a breath at the sight of a vial and hypodermic sitting beside it, his pulse picked up again and the man adjusted his position blocking it from view.

He handed over a small cup of water which was pressed into his hand, Jody steadying it as his hands were shaking.

She nodded to the man Scott didn't recognise. “Dr Girvan, he's a police doctor, he'll check you over till we decide about this afternoon.”

“Decide?”

“Well, obviously if you're unable to attend... well we'll have to postpone.”

With that icy dose of reality the hand that had loosened is grip on his chest tightened slightly. He straightened himself, “Of course I’m able to attend.”

She looked at him intently, “Scott, I will get you out of here. But there are things beyond any of our control.”

“I'm fine.”

The intense gaze continued, an unprofessionally frank assessment from well within his personal space as she had yet to move away from where she was physically pressed against him, grounding him. Finally she seemed to come to a conclusion. There was an exhale, of frustration or amusement Scott’s tired brain couldn’t decide. “Of course you are.”

She nodded to the man, Scott now realised had a medical scanner subtly held at his side. The man stood and reached out a hand to help her up.

Before she pulled herself off the floor Scott put a hand on her arm, “Thank you, Ms Donavon.”

“I think you can probably call me Jody at this point. Don't you?”

He listened for a moment.

“No you listen. I'm the one taking all the risk. I'll happily push his buttons; always felt his sort need taken down a peg or two. I mean he's already swirling the drain... But... this is going to burn all my bridges here...

Easy for you to say.... I'm serious, I’m gonna need double my usual and the documents we discussed.”

His voice slightly rose at the end. And he seemed to catch himself on looking over his shoulder and lowering his voice again.

“Fine.” He hung up and slipping the phone back into his jacket pocket and stood for a moment thinking.

He'd do what they asked. Though they clearly felt he was no longer useful; time to start that new life his extra activities had been building towards since he was approached his first month in the job. The guy in the bar had been right; ready money for those who kept their eyes open and their mouth shut.

He was no fool though; clearly his employers felt he was no longer necessary, this had gone beyond the usual making evidence disappear. They obviously had no qualms about him being caught. Normally he was given time and the resources to ensure any “creative” contributions he was paid to make were neatly hidden. This time they had wanted big things, things that would become obvious very soon and that were fully traceable to him. Well, he was not gonna be anyone's loose end. He seen those getting tied up on too many occasions.

Time to disappear.

Might as well go out with bang by tipping Tracy off the ledge he was clearly perched on. If he finished big maybe the shadows wouldn't try too hard to find him when he scarpered.

Might as well push all the buttons he could then leave the country a wealthy man!

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“The problem that we have, Scott, is that your version of events doesn't match the evidence we have. We have CCTV footage of you following Guinevere into her apartment and fleeing half an hour later. There is a glass with your fingerprints on it and traces of that expensive scotch you were drinking all evening. We can't find the homeless man you allege you gave your coat to- not a trace. How do you explain that?”

“I can't. It's not...I didn't.”

“For the record I am showing Mr Tracy photographs from the crime scene.”

All the air left Scott's body.

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The data pad smashed against the far wall, screen splintering, a spiderweb of cracks instantly breaking the image into a thousand pieces.

“John!” Virgil's hand was in his biceps turning him away from the holographic image of their older brother falling apart.

That angle of the camera had not allowed his brothers to see the images Scott had been presented with but the pained gasp that escaped his body and the way he half stood before his solicitor’s hand on his arm gently pulled him back to his chair spoke volumes.

The Commander of International Rescue had breathed slowly for a second then responded to the questions in a voice so devoid of emotion Virgil felt sick with grief for his brother. John's response had been uncharacteristically physical.

“We have to get him out of there!”

“I'm trying,” John was angry but Virgil didn't pull away. “This doesn't make sense. None of it. It all feels... wrong.”

“I know, Johnny. We’ll work it out.”

“Eos, I need ALL the evidence. I want to see everything the police have.”

“John...” Virgil was conflicted.

“John, you said we should keep our activities to surveillance only due to the hightened security of the police systems.” Eos was direct. “You said being caught would make things worse for Scott Tracy.”

“That was when I was sure this was all a mistake. Now it feels like a set up.”

“John if you are caught...” Virgil’s anxiety was evident.

“Then we won't be. Quickly Eos.”

The door opened softly interrupting any further objection Virgil wanted to make, though actually he agreed with John. They needed to see everything regardless of the risk.

“John dear,” Penny scooped up the broken pad, a look of understanding on her face. “My friend will take Scott as a client. Things have progressed somewhat more speedily than expected. The bail hearing is at 12. We will meet her there and hopefully have Scott home here with us while we sort out this unfortunate nonsense.”

She paused a moment running her eyes over both men. “While a low profile is required perhaps you should not appear in court in the clothes you put on yesterday morning and have not slept in.”

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Eos zipped through the system. She was a ghost; invisible.

Still she took a little extra care covering her tracks. This was dangerous; digging in these places. For her, but especially for John.

Her usual thrill at the challenge was dulled by concern for the Tracy family; her family.

Scott Tracy was in serious trouble. She had taken a few moments to research the criminal justice system in the UK and likely outcomes of Scott Tracy’s current situation.

They did not appear to be optimal.

John had been watching the interrogation of his brother. The interrogators seemed to think Scott Tracy had not done what he said he had done. They claimed their evidence proved the Commander was dishonest.

They thought Scott Tracy had hurt someone. This was not part of his coding. Eos knew that.

The distress of John, Virgil Tracy but most of all Scott Tracy when the police had shown him the images of what had been done.

She paused for a nanosecond- a virtual age by her standards.

She had found those images but something had stopped her from sending them immediately to John. She needed to keep him safe and they did not feel safe. Certainly they had hurt Scott Tracy a lot.

The solicitor man had made the police leave Scott alone for a moment. They had agreed, the unpleasant one not as graciously as the other one.

John and Virgil had left for the court but the police we going back into speak to Scott Tracy again. Eos would be watching.

The solicitor man had stepped out of the room also to speak quietly into his phone. More about the reasons for the court visit- Eos half listened to his call as she moved, John had empowered her to gather all information and she slid in and out of systems all over the building doing just that.

Henderson was on the phone to his wife, a teacher, 36; he had not been home since the case broke and his daughter was missing him.

John, Virgil Tracy and Lady Penelope were in a taxi approximately 30 minutes from the courthouse.

Scott Tracy was alone.

He was pacing the room. His movements without thought, trapped. She waited until he lifted his eyes to the ceiling and signalled her presence. It took a few attempts before he saw her- the little light on the security camera blinking F.A.B. in Morse code.

He finally saw.

He blinked twice, frozen in his pacing then he swore gently and sank back to his chair taking his head in both his hands. The door opened though and he snapped his composure back into place, something Eos could see he was finding harder each time. He turned his head to face the door but not before giving the camera an almost imperceivable nod. He was not alone.

Eos zipped on. John was not able to watch the feed now he was in public so Eos concerned herself with the task at hand.

She was going to find and examine this evidence herself and take her findings to John.

Eos did not fully understand rage, but if she did maybe it felt like her desire to find whoever had done this to her family and hurt her John. Eos did not like to see him distressed.

But he was.

Increasingly.

She broke through the last encryption and found the files.

The evidence.

The video files.

Her reviews lasted seconds. She felt a strong emotion. It was not one she had ever experienced before. She felt her programming burning.

How dare they!

How dare they!

Suddenly she realised she was not alone. Someone else was poking through these files. They were slow though, clearly human. She watched a moment as they clumsily butted against the firewall she had restored behind her- every letter of her programming screamed danger at her. She dropped a tiny snatch of code in the hope she could follow it later and in a nanosecond she had retreated to the safety of Five leaving no trace of her having ever been there.

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“Boss!”

“Problem?”

“I... wait... no. I could have sworn I saw something.”

“Like what?”

“I thought there was someone else there.”

“Our friends?”

“No, it looked... it must have been a glitch.”

“You're sure?”

“No one could have been in and out like that, it was just a second,” a tired sigh and the sound of knuckles cracking. “I've been staring at this screen too long.”

“You're in though?”

“Yep. No sign of our friends but I'm analysing the files now- starting the trace- this could take a while. It's not their usual M.O. but it is definitely them. This is sloppy by their standards though.”

“Good. Sloppy is where we get ‘em”

“I can't find anything to link Tracy to any of our known players.”

“I don't think you will.”

“Sir?”

“As you said, this isn't their normal style. This feels different... personal. This whole thing it doesn't fit any other patterns or serve what we know of their agenda. It's maybe to keep us looking at Tracy and not at the girl."

“At what point do we weigh in?”

“Don't tell me you're soft for the Commander too, Jones?”

“Pff. Course not. Pulled my best friend’s cousin off the side of a mountain though, genuine real life hero he is.”

“Not our concern Jones. Sember ocultus, remember, sember ocultus. We can't go tipping the bad guys off that we're on to them just because one man is having a bad day.”

“Aye, but...”

The surprised cry of the girl had Virgil and John preparing to wade into the fray to rescue their brother from the embarrassing scene they anticipated. Instead the girl had accepted the apology and light blue silk handkerchief offered with good grace and amusement. Though the handkerchief was returned unused almost immediately;

“I’m not using this to mop up red wine,” seeing his uncertainty at why it was rejected, she leant towards Scott, and in a stage whisper added, “It’s worth more than the dress!”

Scott’s unexpected bark of laughter suggested to Virgil that he wouldn’t need to worry about Scott finding entertainment that evening and he’d been right.

The party at the American Embassy in London was not their usual style but Scott had been at college with the ambassador’s senior aid and, as big brother had pointed out it didn’t hurt them to network; Tracy Industries had major stakes in a lot of countries and industries world wide. Plus Penny would, of course be there and had offered to let them stay with her in her apartment and the promise of Parker’s famous cooked breakfast was not to be ignored.

Virgil and John had made small talk with acquaintances and been introduced to many new faces. How Scott did this on a regular basis, often with enjoyment, Virgil didn’t really understand, John certainly didn’t; although the astronaut had had a very pleasant conversation with a large Norwegian man about some new advancements in long range satellite something or others. Virgil had zoned out, especially when they both became animated and kept switching to German. Gordon was right Spacecase was a colossal nerd.

Big brother had dutifully done his usual working of the room knowing many more people than either of his younger brothers, but he and the girl had found each other again each time they were separated by other people or brothers. It was an unusual display of preference for Scott who was usually very careful not to give prying eyes a potential glimpse of his private life.

The risks of gossip columns finding much out about the evening were low tonight he supposed; the embassy had heavy security and there were almost more bodyguards lining the walls than actual guests which amused Virgil; they’d given their own security the night off, Kayo had been unimpressed but out ranked by Scott; “Come as a guest or go catch a show or something, Kay!” She’d selected the later but Virgil wouldn’t be surprised if their usual detail was outside despite what Scott had instructed.

The crowd at the party had a large number of high profile guests; not the usual paparazzi fodder though; well apart from a minor royal Virgil knew Grandma would want to hear about later. Virgil watched his fellow guests; these men and women, these were people with true power; what deals between companies or, more dramatically between countries, were being formed while he and John sipped expensive scotch at the bar? That kind of power held no allure for him except where it could be used to help people in need. He knew Scott’s opinion was similar to his own on that front but unlike Virgil, Scott knew exactly how to wield that power. Virgil was in awe at how a lot of these people looked to his older brother and listened when he spoke. Good things often happened where Scott Tracy intervened.

He sipped his drink and watched as the girl laughed at something Scott whispered in her ear as they danced. This girl was nice. She’d disappeared briefly into the restrooms to deal with, “the carnage” as she’d dubbed the vivid red stain marring the front of her chiffon gown. There wasn’t a dry cleaner in the world would be able to salvage that. Unlike many of those they often encountered who would have made a huge fuss especially knowing who Scott was, this girl seemed more amused; “It's a dress and an accident, my life is hardly ruined!” That was immediate brownie points.

Scott had lingered until she returned from her clean up attempt to apologise again. She’d returned still smiling, told Scott he could buy her a fresh drink- laughing as he pointed out it was an open bar, “Then you’re getting off lightly aren’t you, Armani?”

Another surprised laugh from his brother and introductions had been made. She was Eve Ramsey, currently living in London but about to start her first overseas placement for the British embassy in Germany as a junior aide. Her accent was similar to Penny’s, though with a slight lilt to it that Virgil couldn’t immediately place.

Also unlike others, if she was at all starstruck by meeting The Scott Tracy, she hid it well. Her polite, “What do you do?” Had left Virgil momentarily floundering until she’d laughed, “Sorry, couldn’t resist. You must be Virgil? Thunderbird Two’s pilot and that makes you,” a warm smile was flashed at John, “Thunderbird Five. I have always wanted to go into space!”

There followed a short enthusiastic conversation with John about his lifestyle that showed her to be well informed and intelligent and had John relaxing into the topic in a way not many people could manage so quickly. Scott was clearly delighted at this development which made Virgil grin to himself. The Commander clearly liked this one.

“Thunderbird Five must be incredible!” Eve broke off with a sigh.

John smiled, pleased. “She is!”

“Thunderbird One is pretty incredible too, don’t you think?” Scott insisted, not completely joking; his eyes twinkled and the dimples were deployed with full force. Virgil watched with interest, Scott actually making an effort to flirt? Always interesting; this was usually where they swooned, melted or eyelashes fluttered and the socialites ensured the ego of their mark remained intact; he’d witnessed it many times.

Eve however was not the usual girl. She looked at Scott, her own eyes twinkling back as she pretended to consider it carefully before grinning cheekily; “I’m sorry, my degree is English Literature; Thunderbird One, well I guess she’s just a bit too phallic for me!”

Virgil snorted Scotch out his nose. And even John laughed out loud. Scott looked momentarily stunned. Any rejoinder was cut off however by the arrival of the host, the American ambassador who shook Scott’s hand enthusiastically, “Tracy, good to see you, son.”

“A pleasure as always, sir.” Scott nodded and smiled. Tom March had been an acquaintance of Jeff’s back in the day and was always a friendly face when their paths crossed.

“Boys,” he nodded to John and Virgil who both shook his hand as well, exchanging pleasantries.

Scott made to introduce their new companion but the ambassador had already leant forward and kissed her cheek.

“Hi, Uncle Tom.”

“Evie! I didn’t realise you were back!”

“Yes, yesterday. Thought I’d come say hi.”

“It’s good to see you. How’s your mum coping with the move?”

“Oh you know; complaining about the plumbing but getting everything whipped into shape. They won’t know what’s hit them.”

“Indeed. You need to come over before you leave. Martha will want to see you.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” He glanced at Scott then back at Eve eyebrows raising slightly and winked. “You young’uns have a good night then.” And he moved on to speak to the next group of people.

“Hi, Uncle Tom?” Scott raised an eyebrow teasingly.

She rolled her eyes, “An honorary title; I babysat his daughters when our families were stationed in Belgium at the same time. He and my father were at Oxford together, a fact I am rarely allowed to forget as I dared to attend Cambridge,”

“Oh so your father works for the diplomatic service as well?” John asked, though her university of choice was noted for later.

“Yep, I guess it’s in my blood.” She laughed self deprecatingly, “My coffee making and filling will be making a difference!”

Scott smiled at her, “Gotta start somewhere!”

“Indeed.” They held each others gaze a moment and Virgil cleared his throat while John rolled his eyes.

Still not breaking eye contact Scott clipped John on the side of the head, “Hey!”

They had continued like that the rest of the evening- having a dance here and there, chatting to people individually and coming back together to talk some more.

The evening was progressing and Virgil was enjoying the sight of a relaxed dancing Scott. He had not been short of partners himself, including several surprisingly pleasant encounters with the minor royal. Grandma must never find out or she'd be designing his coat of arms and booking Westminster Abbey! Thankfully John and Scott were the only brothers here and could be counted on for discretion. Even John had danced a couple of times with a pretty red head. Now though they had both retired to a discreet corner from which they could watch proceedings. Feeling Virgil's gaze Scott looked over and smiled as he recognised the, ‘can we go now stance?’ of John. He bent down and whispered to the girl and led her off the dance floor to join his brothers once again.

Conversation was light and easy until Eve laughed, and, glancing at her watch, finished the glass of champagne she had been drinking, “It’s been lovely meeting you but I actually have to go now. I am having breakfast with my brother early tomorrow.”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head a little. “I…mmm…I’ll see you home?”

Virgil and John exchanged amused glances.

Eve looked up at him, blushing prettily, “Umm…I…if you want…don’t want to take you away from the party.”

“I don’t mind…I mean…if you wanted.”

“Oh good grief,” John interceded. “Just go both of you, I’m getting nauseous.”

They all laughed and Eve, cheeks still pink handed her empty glass to Scott and left to get her coat.

“I’ll see you back at the apartment in a bit.”

Vigil couldn’t keep the smirk off his face, “Sure!”

It was Scott’s turn to roll his eyes, “I’ve known her ten minutes,” he paused though and rubbed his neck again, “though I think I might ask her if we could have dinner tomorrow night…?”

“You’re ditching us?” Virgil teased.

“Well,,I mean…”

“Don’t be daft. I like her. You absolutely should ask her out.”

“She’s pretty great isn’t she?” Virgil clamped his hand on Scott’s shoulder and shook his head, “Oh dearie, dearie me!”

“Nauseous!” John contributed but he was grinning.

“You’re both annoying, you know that?” He downed the rest of his Scotch and set his empty glass on the bar behind John. “That’s good stuff,” he commented before clapping Virgil on the shoulder, “Later losers!”

“And just like that we are abandoned!”

“They grow up so fast.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment. Virgil asked the bartender the name of the scotch Scott had been drinking. Top shelf stuff, he’d order him a couple of cases for his birthday. Contented with the world he looked back at John who had started poking at his comm.

“What are you doing?”

“Never too soon to start background checks; Eos can do a preliminary search immediately…See if the lady checks out.”

“Hey! That’s the potential mother of our nephew and nieces you could be maligning.” He bumped John’s shoulder and got a dark look for his trouble. Vigil ignored him, he was in a good mood. He took another contented sip of his drink. Scott deserved a little happiness, it had been a long time since he’d seemed so smitten. Virgil liked to see Scott happy; maybe this would be a passing thing or maybe it would become something- either way it existed outside the office and International Rescue and that had to be a good thing.

John stopped typing and finished his own drink. “Have you seen Penny, maybe we could go too?”

“She was last seen in a crowd of impressionable diplomats that direction,” he motioned with his glass towards the opposite side of the room. John looked at him expectantly.

Virgil sighed, “I’ll go find her since you have the whole not moving from the corner thing going.” John nodded his assent, sarcasm proof, losing his eyes to his wrist comm which had just beeped discreetly. Eos was swift. Virgil put his glass in the bar where a new bar tender nodded his thanks.

He’d taken only a few steps when he turned back surprised as John swore. John often swore but this was just one word and in English.

Worrying.

The red head was reading his screen a frown on his face. He tilted it to Virgil as he approached.

“She’s not a wanted terrorist, is she?” He desperately tried to lighten the look on John’s face but his brother shook his head slightly, indicating Virgil should see for himself.

“No…but look who her dad is!”

Virgil read.

Then swore.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t think there is anything we can do…”

“It might not come up…we can talk to him in the morning…it might, I mean it might not be a problem."

“Or….” John trailed off and they both stood suddenly miserably helpless, watching the door their brother had just left through.

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“Your Honour, my client suffers from medical issues due to an incarceration he suffered while serving in the USAF.”

“I was not aware...

“It is not a matter of public record but my client was held prisoner after his jet was shot down over Bereznik. His subsequent three months as a prisoner of war has left him with occasional recurrences of post traumatic stress disorder. There is concern that being confined at this time, combined with the connection to Bereznik in this case might prove exceptionally detrimental to his mental health.”

“Your Honour, perhaps the defendant should have considered this before he committed a crime that carries a mandatory life sentence!”

“The compassion and evident impartiality of the prosecution is noted and I will remind him of the burden of proof.” He turned his withering gaze from the prosecution barrister who had the decency to look shamefaced for a moment. Then he turned his attention to Jody who waited patiently to be invited to speak.

“Ms Donovan if you would be so kind to explain what's going on. My list has been rearranged for what is already proving an irregular experience and I think we'd all like to get some clarity this side of tomorrow.”

“Thank you, your honour. I can supply evidence to support my client’s claim, with the speed of events I am unable to produce it till later today. Dr Patricia O’Brien a specialist in this type of trauma who has been treating my client for several years is prepared to testify to the particulars should the court require. We ask that the court show compassion for a decorated war hero.”

“Your flair for the dramatic is noted. I will take this into consideration upon receipt. Clearly this information could have bearing on the case.”

“Of course your honour.”

Ms Donavon, If bail is granted your client can expect the conditions to be extensive. It would be equally pertinent for you to take instructions on matters such as surety and a potential residence address within the jurisdiction.”

“Thank you, your honour. “

“I’ll rise until 2pm. Your client will remain in downstairs in custody until then.”

He rose and left the court.

Jody moved across to Scott, “That was encouraging. You'll be ok for a couple of hours? I'm going to speak to your brothers, explain what's happening and then I'll come and we can discuss what you can expect from this afternoon. I know this isn't your choice of strategy but I agree with your brothers, we need to get you out of here to figure out what is going on. This isn't...” she gestured the space around them, “Things are being moved along in a strange way. We need you out so we can regroup. This is a good first step to that. You'll be ok?”

He gave a half smile and Jody got the sense of armour being worn in the form of a charmingly wry grin, believable except if you looked into his eyes.

His painfilled eyes.

“Tell them I'm ok. Fine even. Yea,” his lips moved in a facsimile of a grin, “Tell them I say I'm fine,” He straightened the grin gone a look of tired determination in its place. She squeezed his arm slightly, an unprofessional impulse just as the guard led him away.

Gathering her files quickly she nodded at the prosecution as he held the door for her and went in search of her client’s family. They were not going to be pleased that they'd been removed from proceedings.

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Virgil was pacing like a caged tiger, behaviour more usually seen in Scott who had been eerily still in the courtroom. The engineer had a fist twisting the hair on the front of his head tightly and seemed to be having a conversation on his own head.

“This is ridiculous!”

“I know, dear heart but we have to trust the process,” Penny’s voice was calm but Virgil noticed with a morbid satisfaction she was biting on her thumb nail in an uncharacteristic way.

“The same process that has landed Scott on trial for murder? Forgive my lack of reassurance.”

“Vee,” John's voice held a gentle rebuke.

“Sorry, Penny.” The blonde just waved a hand to show no offence had been taken.

“How could they just kick us out like this?”

“So they can talk about his file.”

“But we're his family. We lived the aftermath. How could they remove us!”

“Virgil,” John sighed and put it a leg to stop Virgil's pacing motioning to the seat on his right. Virgil took the hint.

“He could have said it was ok for us to remain, he must have instructed Jody to do that- the court was empty. Why?”

John sighed sadly looking up from the data Eos was sending him. “We both know why, Vee.”

Virgil visibly deflated in his seat. “I know.”

They sat in silence before the sound of the courtroom door alerted them to the fact it was clearly over. Jody approached and motioned them to follow her into a side room where they could speak in private.

She passed Scott's message, the “fine” drawing a sad huff of laughter from the brothers, clearly a meaning she didn't comprehend.

“I have looked over the information; what I'm cleared to read anyway. I'm a confident as I can be at this stage that the ruling should go in our favour, at which point Scott will be released on bail which you'll need to pay upon his release. I need some numbers of accounts and an address here in London where you so be staying. You can access a sizeable amount of cash quickly?”

John looked at Virgil and they both nodded. “Good. Always helpful to have things in place to expedite matters. I'll leave the forms here. Sorry to be callous but with means such as yours, the figure will be high- we’llneed the money immediately if the ruling is in our favour.”

John took the data pad she offered him scanning the first page of the open document and nodding again.

“I'll let you sort these details for the court and I’m going to go and discuss this afternoon with Scott, I feel it best I prepare him for what details I intend to present.”

“Thank you, Ms Donovan.”

“Jody.”

“Jody,” Virgil’s smile was genuine.

As she hurried to the cells below, Jody took a moment to app the warm brown eyes, different to her clients yet strangely alike.

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He’d met his brothers’ frightened gazes with the most steady and reassuring one he could manage. He had held it together as his barrister had made the appeal for special consideration. He hated that his record was being used like this. It was a violation, but as she had pointed out the prosecution would no doubt be digging it up. He felt nauseous at all the implications of this. What if... he shut that down as tight as he could.

He’d met her eye and held his head up as he been lead out of the court room. He was a Tracy he lived through worse.

He didn’t feel that confidence now.

His hands trembled and he balled them into fists to stop it showing.

The guard opened the door and motioned for him to enter the tiny room. He closed his eyes and walked forward, breaths deliberately slow and steady. The rhythm had been taking more and more effort to control as they had moved deeper under the courthouse. No natural light and a horribly familiar feeling of his hands being bound was not helping him.

This wasn't there.

The resounding clang of the door closing behind him caused him to start. His heart rate and breathing both accelerated, all pretence of a steady pattern deserting him.

He was here. This was not Bereznik. He would not be here for long. He would not be tortured.

No torture.

He could do this.

He was not there.

He could do this.

He was not there.

Anxiety had him pulling at the bandage on his hand, fingers digging into the cut. The pain helped keep him in this reality; an unhealthy coping mechanism that would have Virgil tearing his hair out.

He forced himself to open his eyes and slowly turn, taking in every inch of the square box he found himself in.

Not there. Not a stinking straw mattress on the ground. Proper flooring. Not there.

He knew he was breathing too fat and tried to steady himself but he was loosing the battle. He thought he heard dogs in the distance.

Not the dogs. Not here. They weren't here.

There was a bang as a cell door nearby closed and the dark wave of the past closed over his head.

Panic gripping him fully now he backed away from the closed door until his back hit the wall. Sliding down to the floor he curled tightly in on himself as the flood of memories threatened to drown him, until he couldn’t think straight, couldn't breath and here and now became there and then.

“Well it is an option most normal people do not have at their disposals.”

“It’s certainly a point that I have never had to consider before. On the one hand, your client is recognised worldwide and until now has been considered an intentional hero. On the other, this is a serious crime with potentially very real legal and political ramifications. It is vital that, should this proceed to trial, there is no appearance of bias due to wealth or status. These charges are severe enough to warrant your client be remanded in custody.”

Virgil, watched with mounting dread from his seat between John and Penny. He kept a hand firmly on the astronaut’s knee; to ground himself or to stop John leaping up and punching someone he couldn’t say.

Scott had given them a forced grimace of a smile when he'd seen them. He looked even worse in the flesh than he had in the illegal video of the interrogation. Virgil kept his eyes glued on his brother. He was pretty sure the prisoner, his mind stuttered at the word, was not in the courtroom with them- his vacant stare fixed on the middle distance.

They had to get him out of here. Now.

The courtroom was practically empty. The three of them the only public in the gallery.

No press. It felt strangely quiet.

Since the war, there were special levels of media regulation that could be put in place in extreme cases. Virgil hadn’t really been concentrating as John had explained the complete media silence where Virgil had expected banks of journalists clamouring for a photo of the Tracy family in crisis. The embargo could only be held for a short time though, so if this wasn’t cleared up soon; he shuddered at visions of the incoming storm, earning him concerned looks from the other two.

At least this barrister seemed to be as good as Penny claimed.

In any other circumstance Virgil would have enjoyed watching how she held herself despite being considerably younger than the prosecution barrister she was calmly facing off against.

He focused on what she was saying.

“There is a further matter that it might be appropriate for the court to take into consideration, but it is of a sensitive nature. May I request your honour hears the detail in chambers?”

“Miss Donavon, with the special measures in place for this case chambers is scarcely more private.”

“It is at the express request of my client your honour.” Jody placed particular inflection in the words and was relieved when the judge’s eyes flicked to the three anxious figures in the gallery and to the haggard figure in the dock. He was not a man known for his bleeding heart but Jody had also found him to be gruffly compassionate towards those in his courtroom when occasion merited it.

His lips pressed into a tight line.

“Very well.” He spoke quietly to the court clerk who gave the instruction to clear the room.

Two people rose and left without question. John and Virgil were startled to realise they were going to be forced to leave as well. A guard came to stand at the end of their row.

“Now hold on!” John started to voice a complaint but Penny soothingly pulled on his arm.

“Let's not get fined for contempt, darling.”

Scott turned and looked at them. He smiled a grim smile in an attempt to reassure the younger brothers. More aware of his surroundings than Virgil had thought then. He made eye contact with each of them, pausing at Penny and nodding slightly, he knew she'd understand and calm the other two. When Jody had explained this potential line of argument, he'd been adamant, his younger brothers would not hear any details put forward. They wouldn't hear what Jody proposed to say to get him released from the hell he was facing. He could spare them that.

The idea that IT would be spoken of. That those things would be mulled over. That Dr Patricia O”Brien, the Trauma specialist who has helped him through some of his darkest days might already have arrived at the court.

He didn't want to think about any of it. He squeezed his injured hand hard. Welcoming the sting it brought.

It was with a growing dread he faced the idea that maybe Green was right.

Maybe this defence was actually also the solution to the case.

Maybe he'd blacked out and gone back to the apartment.

Maybe he was guilty.

Henderson crossed his arms and looked at the man sitting in the interview room. He and his solicitor were consulting during a break in the questioning. Food had been brought but from what he'd observed Tracy hadn't eaten more than a couple of bites.

“It doesn't add up, sir. The brothers both tell the same story of the homeless guy, neither seem surprised that he would give away a three thousand dollar coat and walked home in the rain.”

“From what we're hearing that's the kind of guy he is.”

“The report on the other clothing is inconclusive, there were her hairs but that fits with the CCTV which shows her wearing his coat and with the” he made a vague distracted gesture with his hands, “close contact. There are trace of blood but only his which could be explained by the injury to his hand but the lack of any of hers seems unlikely given the crime scene... if he was wearing it there is no way it would also have escaped contamination. We need to find that coat” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “There is something about that injury too…the hand…he was vague on how that happened. We didn't push but I'll put pressure on for details not. I also want to put in a request for his medical records…I've a hunch, I think I know what he means by clearing his head and it might have a baring on things…:

“Do it but be careful which cans of worms you choose to unleash with this one.”

Henderson nodded. “It isn't really adding up. He claims not to have entered the apartment when the CCTV clearly shows him entering with her before re-emerging and fleeing the building…surely would a guy who runs a tech firm not realise we've got him bang to rights?”

“Where are we with the footage?”

“Green has spoken to the lab to talk with the technicians. He says the first response is it's clear, no sign of tampering. Between that and the glass- very expensive scotch the report says, we have him at the scene.”

“Motive?”

“She turned him down? He lost his temper?”

“Does it seem likely?”

“Oh I reckon he's a temper all right but…doesn’t strike me as the type to lash out about something like that. I reckon if you've done something stupid that put people in danger then you're likely to take a punch to the jaw. All accounts of him are that he is a boy scout around women, the perfect gentleman. Look at how often he's in the tabloids and there is never any whispers of impropriety. The younger brother, Virgil was quite appalled at the suggestion big brother was capable of violence though it's convenient to have a brother who can patch you up and strange that both younger Mr Tracy’s accepted the injury without too much question. They've lawyered up – we’ll see how this unfolds before we bring either of them in for follow up.”

“You don't think he did it.” Morgan was looking at him intently.

“I don't know, sir. He seems genuinely devastated that she's dead and his story would be more plausible if it matched what we have. Why directly contradict the evidence? Why cook up some weird story about a homeless guy? He could say he went in, they talked, he left and went home? It would be more convincing than arguing directly with the evidence. There are a couple of unread messages to her from his phone arranging a meal for this evening sent this morning. Not a very complex cover up when he's then denying other material evidence. There is definitely something fishy here. I just cant quite see it.”

Henderson sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. He didn't like the next step. Especially if the man he had just spent two hours interrogating was actually as innocent as he Henderson's gut was telling him. He’d been wrong before but...“He's told us his story. We'll see how he reacts to the actual evidence.”

“Good. We've other problems however.” If Henderson thought his day was getting complicated that was nothing to the heat Morgan was taking from all angles over this.

“The solicitor is pushing hard for bail and, well, the higher ups are thumping on about it too. They want him charged or released ASAP. Before anyone leaks that he's here. I'm expecting a call with a hearing time any second. Pressure from on high is going to expedite matters I've little doubt.”

Henderson swore.

“Best get back to it then. DCI and look sharpish. I want a copy of the lab report the moment Green gets it and I want to see the forensics from the rest of the apartment- why is that not already on my desk?”

“Dunno, sir. I'll have someone chase it up now.”

“We discussed the dotting of ‘i’s did we not?”

“We did, sir.”

“And yet I remain outside the loop. Imagine my disappointment when the HOME OFFICE rang for the SECOND time this morning and I had no fresh information on the case.” His voice was deceptively calm.

Henderson shifted uncomfortably.

“That would have been uncomfortable, sir.”

“Almost as uncomfortable as you will be if this reports aren't already on my desk as we speak.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good good. Though clearly you are no longer here but already away getting me information and solving the case.”

“Sir,” Henderson fled.

“He's not even made it to the cells, moving quickly on this one.” They exchanged meaningful looks.

This was moving very quickly which meant that there were many larger things at play than Jody was currently privy too- she never liked that feeling. But, ultimately she had a job to do.

Fred opened the door to the room her new client was in checking all was well before leaving her to consult with the man in private.

The man in question was sitting as they entered, he didn't seem to hear them enter initially, impressive given the noise Jody always felt the kicks made. It was only a split second before he shot to his feet. He looked at her a moment, his face pale and haunted almost as if he forgotten where he was. Then the mask of control slammed down hard.

He nodded as she introduced herself, and offered her his hand in greeting. Jody took it. His grip was firm and warm, more suited to a boardroom than their current location. She let her eyes look him over for further signs of distress, guilt or the thousand other little tells she had learned to read in situations like this.

He was dishevelled, a six o clock shadow highlighting his cheekbones, fingers had obviously hastily been dragged through hair it to try and bring since form of order with some success although a rogue curl had landing in his forehead.

His piercing blue eyes met hers, the ghost of a polite smile playing on his lips and wow, Jody thought. The tabloids did not do this man justice. Not that she followed the tabloids but you’d have to be living on Mars to not know who the man before her was. In fact she mused, as she flipped open her brief case and pulled out her files, more to give herself something to do that was not staring than because she didn’t have the details memorised, even Mars colonists would know him, given the hand International Rescue had in their safe arrival on the planet.

Anyway. At this moment in time who he was or how devastatingly handsome he was did not matter at all.

Justice was blind.

At this moment he was just a man; and one who was in very very serious trouble.

Sliding her bag off the desk she looked up and met his tired gaze once more, “Good to meet you, Mr Tracy. I’ve been thoroughly briefed on the case but perhaps you wouldn’t mind talking me through things from your own perspective.”

He closed his eyes at that and passed a hand over his face. She pretended not to notice the slight tremor in it. She did notice the haunted look in his eyes when he opened them again to look directly at her and the deep deep sadness in his voice as he began.

John’s focus was entirely on the central hologram of Eos.

“Eos, are we in?”

“I have found a way. Initialising.”

There was a brief pause and Eos’ avatar shifted and the hologram in front of him resolved itself into the inside of a small square room. It was bare except for a desk in the middle, a couple of chairs on either side. At this moment in time his older brother was sitting on one of the chairs, head in hands. He was alone.

The feed was grainy but John could see his brother tapping his fingers and jiggling his leg as he only did when upset and he thought no one was near. A small micro dot in his shirt collar pinged his location and some basic biometric data, normally unaccessed, only there for an emergency. This, John felt was emergency enough to justify its usage. The data showed signs of extreme stress, go figure. They needed to get to the bottom of this and fast. Scott would not do well in a cell. John squashed an emotion he didn't want to examine and focused on the task at hand.

Obviously they had confiscated Scott’s comm and phone so John had had to resort to other measures.

As John watched, Scott scrubbed a hand over his face, causing John’s heart to clench painfully. He looked…lost.

Then suddenly his demeanour changed and John was unsurprised when seconds later the door opened and three men entered, one John recognised as Scott's new solicitor.

“Eos, have we any way of getting audio?”

“I shall attempt to access any microphones in the room. But I am not sure this is useful, John.”

“Eos. We need to know what is going on. We need to help Scott.”

“OK. John. Attempting to access the detective’s phone.”

“Thank you, Eos.” John leant forward as if by doing so he could be with his brother in the room.

Just as the audio feed crackled to life the apartment’s buzzer rang.

“Master John,” Parker’s voice was heavy with meaning. “That was the front door. There are several members of the constabulary h’on their way up. They wish to speak with you and master Virgil. Might I suggest,” he cast an eye over John caught in tableau, his older brother in holographic form floating behind him, “you h’ensure they find you…presentable?”

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Scott had been ‘processed.’ Mug shots had been taken, he was still blinking from the brightness of the flashes. He had his fingerprints taken and verified his name and address several times. He’d refused medical treatment for his hand, subtly bandaged by Virgil in the small hours and had as per every lesson drilled into him by his father and their legal team at TI’s asked to speak to his lawyer. He been led into this room, given a bottle of water and left alone, he assumed deliberately, without really being told anything else.

It was very disorientating not helped by the fact he hadn’t slept much and, while he felt he had a grip on things, he knew he was feeling the hypervigilance that he always experienced when certain topics were plaguing him. Plus, and this was the biggest thing, his mind kept raising and rejecting the idea that anything could possibly have happened to the girl who had been very much alive and in his arms the night before. He wanted to move but resisted the urge to pace.

He ran a hand their his hair.

Eve, Evie. She had said her dad's name was Jackson....Guinevere Jackson. Was it... her?

He swallowed hard. He needed answers.

His chest constricted and he forced his breathing to stay steady. He curled his injured hand into a fist welcoming the sting as it pulled painfully helping him stay grounded. The recently resurfaced thoughts of the last time he was held in a small cell threatened to combine with the clawing fear that she...that something could have happened. He would not, could not let it get a hold. He needed to find out what was going on which meant he needed to focus.

They’d taken his phone so he’d not been able to reach out, to contact her and reassure himself that this was all a big mistake. No one had been forthcoming in response to his requests for clarity. He just needed to know she was ok.

How he hated the waiting.

A sound in the corridor alerted him to incoming company and he straightened. Game face on, rules of engagement were the same on the battlefield and in the boardroom, he’d stick with them here as well. Don’t let the opposite side see your cards until you know what their game is. Something was certainly not right with this.

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John was not the only one watching his brother. On the other side of the one way glass Chief Superintendent Morgan was considering the man in the next room.

“You do realise we’re holding one of the most famous and respected men in the world in there.”

“Yes. However, the evidence is suggesting this is a cut and dry deal, sir.”

“I’ve seen the evidence and…it feels too easy. Why would someone with his intelligence and resources just allow himself to he caught? No attempt to conceal or leave? Man lives on an island for goodness sake; good luck getting an extradition agreement with his own family.”

“Arrogance?”

“Does he look arrogant to you?” They both regarded the man sitting alone in the room.

“The forensics will be back any second and Hicks and Rowan are already on their way to interview the brothers.

“Good, good.” Morgan rocked on his heels slightly, an indication he was thinking. Henderson waited.

“The list of people who owe their lives to this man…its a long list…my wife’s sister is one of them. Heaven help me when this gets out. Pulled her out of that big fire in Paris a couple of years back.”

As no response seemed necessary, Henderson wisely kept his mouth shut.

“To hear her tell it you’d think it was angel wings and not a jet pack that he was using to fly…” he seemed to loose himself in thought scrutinising the man through the one way glass.

“No special treatment. This thing is being driven from the very top, and I mean VERY top, Henderson. Every ‘i’ dotted, you understand me. I’ve had the Commissioner on twice already, he’s mumbling about the Home Office. This thing is huge, the dad being who he is.” It had all the markings of a career making case. Or ending, he thought darkly. He didn’t tell Henderson about the phone call from his counterpart, if she could be called that, in MI5 asking to be kept apprised. If the spooks were involved…he shuddered. Something rotten in the state of Denmark indeed.

His phone chimed and he answered curtly, listening with a grim face to the other person. He sighed heavily. Green was one of the senior officers on this case, he wasn’t sure how that had happened, annoyingly short staffed needs must but he was not always delicate in these matters. Henderson however was a good solid officer who looked set to have a long and successful career- should he not make an enemy of one of the Forbes’ Lists top entries.

“That was the front desk. Mr Tracy’s lawyer has arrived.”

He was sure he had an ulcer starting. No guilty man, regardless of how rich he was or how impressive his legal representation was would be walking away from this, he would make certain of that; a promising young life had been cut off, he’d seen the crime scene photos and she deserved justice. But…he narrowed his eyes at the man in the room, Morgan had been around a long time, no innocent man was going to be framed if he could help it either.

The motivations for removing Scott Tracy from the game board? Morgan wasn’t where he was and set to continue further up the ladder without understanding the dirty politics of the world. He sighed again. Probably a lot of people could benefit if his new friend went to jail.

Henderson cleared his throat- waiting for Morgan to remember he was there. “Do we know them, the solicitor?”

Morgan started slightly, raising an eyebrow and regarding Henderson cooly, “Yes. You have heard of Wolfe and Bryne?”

“Who hasn’t. I mean we knew it would be from a top firm. Who have they sent? I’ve dealt with John Harkness before, decent guy, bit scary.”

His boss laughed, “We Should be so lucky. It’s only David Wolfe on his way up as we speak.”

“The boss?”

“The big boss. Met him once years ago,” that had not been a good day for young green DI Morgan. “I don’t think he’s left his desk in over fifteen years.” He pulled his glasses off, running the bridge of his nose. Today felt like several long days and it wasn’t eleven o’clock yet. “Aren’t we blessed. You stick to Green like glue, don’t let him get us all fired.”

“Sir,” his own data pad chimed. “That’s the lab sir. The glass is a match, which puts him directly at the scene along with the CCTV Footage. I’m not sure how he would hope to get out of this.”

“I will be convinced by nothing but a full and Comprehensive confession and you should be careful too Henderson. I want EVERY move catalogued and in a report on my desk before you’ve even thought it; you and I are telepathically linked for the duration, you understand?”

He sighed, eyes still on the window. “Something does not add up. This is under the highest level of news lockdown, make sure you reiterate it AGAIN to your team. The father is incommunicado. The embassy are pulling him back from wherever he is. Any leaks from this office and I’ll have badges and livers. Haven’t had this level of lockdown on a story since, well, it’s been a long time…”

Henderson nodded, too seasoned an officer to be nervous, especially when the evidence was painting an increasingly compelling story of guilt. He was however very good at his job and smart enough to recognise the warning and advice he was being given.

“Right,” Morgan straightened and indicated Henderson should go and begin the interview, “let’s get this circus started. Lay on Macduff.”

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'Our praises are our wages'