Past The Edge of Reason

Once Green, the Captains (barring Xanthic and Cobalt) and the Angels (barring Symphony in Angel One) had gathered, viewed the available information, and read over the break downs provided by the analysts that Spectrum retained for situations exactly like this, they were in full agreement: it was looking bad for UnNamed, but his muck-rakers were digging and social media counterclaims were starting to surface. Those voices were currently small, but they wouldn't stay that way, not with the human predilection towards gossip and tearing others down. In addition, last night a Freedom of Information Act request had been put in for Cobalt’s medical records from the WAAF - a little tidbit that had been passed along by someone in UnName’s team having a crisis of conscience. It was a cause of concern for multiple reasons. Even though White had asked Shore to stonewall on the WASP side of things, it was only a matter of time before someone thought to make similar requests from that organisation too, and, legally speaking, they couldn’t be refused. It was only a matter of time before things were brought out to be twisted to fit UnName’s narrative.

Their final conclusion was clear: The longer UnNamed was free to act, the higher the odds of him turning the world back in his favour.

White drummed his fingers on the table as he considered his options.

The warrant for Jefferson Tracy’s arrest had finally been prepared and signed yesterday, but the wheels of justice, especially with the complex crimes the man was accused of, turned slowly. They had to attack on multiple fronts, to remove the support that would give the man the strength to fight the charges and the connections to squirm out of things. They needed the public pressure to ensure that justice was done and make him too hot to handle. This was a case that could take years to be seen through to completion should enough obstacles be thrown in the way and key persons be made to ‘vanish’ or withdraw their statements, and the man would be able to continue his campaign the entire time. If he did somehow get elected, the case could be dismissed entirely.

Complicating everything was the threat of the Mysterons. They were quiet right now, but that could change in an instant, and he hated fighting two wars at once.

Colonel White’s frown deepened as he considered alternatives, half an ear on the conversations happening around him. He could add fuel to the fire by requesting Cobalt (because the man would never allow his brothers to do so) go before the media and do an interview now. He knew that Cobalt would do it - an interview was the bait he’d dangled before Kat Cavernaugh - but doing so right now would wound him deeply. ‘Another option would be to give Scarlet an untraceable weapon and a ‘hunting licence’, but he is not ‘007’ and Spectrum does not issue a licence to kill as one sees fit. This needs to be taken care of quickly and efficiently.’ Decision made, he swept his gaze over his collected officers and tapped the table top twice to get their attention. “This needs to be escalated. UnNamed states that the report is just words, so let us have the man's own words convict him,” White declared. “Green, print out a copy of the warrant for me and have Spectrum New York arrange transportation and an investigative team. Blue, Scarlet, go pack your bullet-proofed civvies, prep an SPJ, and file a flight plan to New York. Ochre, you’re in charge until we return, maintain readiness in case of a threat.” 

“Sir?” That was Blue, head slightly tilted as he sought clarification.

“We are going to bring up the timeline. The three of us will go to New York. First thing in the morning we will pay a visit to Ms. Cavernaugh’s office and present her with evidence to damn Jeff Tracy: one of the worst of the sat phone recordings we have. Whilst it may not be admissible for the trial, we have plenty more. After that makes breaking news, we shall go to TI New York and arrest him.” A hard look was levelled at his senior officers, particularly at Scarlet. “We will execute this to the letter, gentlemen, and it will be done with strict adherence to all procedures. No ‘accidental’ shoves or trips, no whispered incendiary comments, and if he does resist arrest, only as much force as is required to contain him. There will not be a single flaw that a clever lawyer can use to dismantle all of our work and render moot all of the pain the Tracy family have gone through.” 

It was only when he got their crisp ‘yessir's that White nodded and went on to say “Remember, obliterating the myth of ‘The Great Jeff Tracy’, ruining the years of work he's put into his public image, and snatching away any chance of victory will do far worse to him than any physical pain will.” 

That got all those present exchanging looks that were distinctly Not Pleasant. 

He waited an hour. Still nothing.

The rest of the family waited with him. Tensions were high, no one spoke while they waited. For once both John and Virgil were home too, John was in between missions and Virgil had just finished his finals.

Finally Jeff tried to send Alan and Gordon to bed. Alan was tearful, angry, but ultimately he did go with Virgil. But Gordon was determined to stay up. It wasn’t the first time Scott had missed the scheduled call, he was probably on a mission, and so Gordon would wait. He had good news to share!

But eventually he was dropping off by the phone and didn’t have the energy to protest when John picked him up and carried him upstairs. They didn’t go into either of their rooms, though. John took them to Scott’s room and they settled on their big brother’s bed. Virgil and Alan joined them pretty soon and the puppy pile helped the two youngest drift off to sleep.

Not John and Virgil, though, and they softly murmured their worries to each other. They stopped when their Father looked in and shook his head, and they sighed and settled down to try and get some sleep.

It was as they were trying to eat breakfast that the doorbell rang.

Everyone paused. No one had been particularly hungry and they watched as their Dad went and answered the door and came back alone.

‘Boys, I’ve got a couple of visitors in the office. Can I rely on you finish up here?’ ‘Sure, Dad. We’ve got this.’

Jeff gave John’s shoulder a squeeze and bestowed a weak smile on everyone and left them to it.

John and Virgil exchanged glances but put brave faces on, finishing eating and cleaning the kitchen up. Their dad still hadn’t appeared so they decamped to the den and put a movie on that no one watched.

They were about halfway through when they heard the front door close and they waited to hear what was going on.

It took longer than it should have for their Dad to enter the den, but when he did his face stopped all conversation. Their father was as pale as a sheet. The only other time he’d been like that was when their Mom had died…

It was John – ever practical John – who asked.

‘Dad? What did they want?’ ‘John…boys…I…they…’

The uncharacteristic stutter was even more scary, and Jeff, seeing how scared his children were, sat down heavily on the larger sofa, held his arms open and enfolded his boys into a tight, tight hug. He took a steadying sigh.

‘I have some bad news. There’s – there was an accident. And Scott…’ ‘Scotty dead?’ ‘No! No, Alan, he’s not dead.’ ‘Of course not! Scotty promised.’ ‘Gordon, thank you. The facts are that his plane crashed and he’s currently…lost.’

Jeff didn’t need to see the faces of his two oldest boys to know that they knew exactly what he meant, but Alan at 10 and Gordon at 14 didn’t seem to know exactly what he was driving at.

Thank goodness.

It was enough for now. Jeff got up and left to get dinner together. John and Virgil went to help him and Gordon, in a fit of selflessness he occasionally showed, allowed Alan to pick the movie for them to watch after eating.

They sat at the table with paper and crayons and engaged in discussing how they could make sure Scott didn’t get lost again, coming up with more and more outlandish ideas, unaware that Jeff was watching them with tears streaming down his face.

But then Gordon glanced up and gave him a half-grin and Jeff knew Gordon understood exactly what was going on.

Dinner was a subdued affair and little was eaten, but everyone tried to put a good face on it for Alan. It seemed to work as their youngest brother kept smiling and chatting and didn’t seem to notice the rest were not so happy.

When dinner was over but before they settled for the film Alan showed them what he and Gordon had been talking about while they cooked.

Three sheets of paper had stick men drawn on them and coloured in like Scott’s uniform and all three had giant compasses – one on Scott’s wrist like a watch, one on his waist like a belt and one on his head like a headband.

They laughed and cried and settled down to watch Top Gun. Scott’s favourite movie was an excellent decision by Alan even if it meant more tears.

Jeff managed to hold it together until it was time to put Gordon to bed. At his age Jeff wouldn’t usually but under the circumstances Jeff just needed to and for once Gordon let his Dad act like his father.

‘Scott’s gonna be ok, Dad.’ ‘Of course he will be. He’s a Tracy.’ ‘No – I mean it.’ ‘Gordon?’ ‘Scott promised he wouldn’t leave me. He’ll keep that promise.’

Gordon spoke with such earnestness that Jeff couldn’t help but enfold him into another hug and hold him just a little bit longer than he usually would. He kissed his son’s head.

‘Thank you.’ ‘Scotty will be back before you know it.’ ‘I hope so, Gordon. I hope so.’

But Scott wasn’t back soon.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months.

The wait took a toll on them all, and only Gordon remained upbeat. Even when Alan wasn’t around he remained cheerful. And Jeff just couldn’t tell him how much it meant to them all that Gordon tried so hard. But every time one of them asked Gordon said the same thing: Scott had promised.

Even Alan was getting upset by Scott’s continued absence, but Gordon always managed to cheer him up.

It was another Saturday when the two men visited again.

Once more the boys holed up in the den and tried not to worry about what was going on, but this time their Dad came to them immediately once the men had left. And this time he was smiling even though he was once again crying.

‘Scott?’ ‘They’ve found him. He’s safe.’

They erupted into cheers and hugs, and grins that couldn’t be wiped off. Sally immediately packed a case for Jeff and before the evening was out Jeff was flying to New York for a plane to Frankfurt Airport.

Life at the farmhouse carried on. Jeff vid-called them regularly but there was no sign of Scott, just updates. Their Dad was apologetic but Scott wasn’t up for speaking to them, and eventually Sally had to sit down with Gordon and Alan and explain just how ill Scott was without going into too much detail.

It stopped Alan constantly asking when Scotty was going to talk to him. And it gave Gordon pause. He’d been saying Scott was going to be alright for so long now but it looked like even his big brother may not come out of this unchanged.

Eventually, though, there came a day when Jeff called and said he was bringing Scott home.

Gordon had never been so excited and neither had Alan, and they began planning a party in earnest. But when their Grandma came home she vetoed all their plans and explained that Scott might be better but he wouldn’t cope with loud noises or any kind of partying.

Her words sobered them up pretty quickly. Now they simply made sure that their brother felt at home once he arrived. John and Virgil came home that night and the three of them began rearranging the dining room so that Scott could sleep downstairs until he was better. They let Alan direct him and the ten-year-old revelled in telling his brothers what to do.

The upshot was that when Jeff arrived with a sedated but conscious Scott they were all home and waiting. But they didn’t rush to greet Scott and Jeff and Sally had never felt prouder of their boys.

Scott was settled into the room and for the next few days he mostly slept, but he did speak to all of his brothers a little at a time. They were careful around him and he was equal parts proud of them and upset that they needed to do that.

One day Scott woke up and Gordon was sitting there, humming quietly to himself. He hadn’t noticed and Scott just took a moment to regard his brother.

His little brother has grown up since that day years ago when he’d clung to him, asking him not to go. There was a kernel of regret that could have taken root in his heart, but then Gordon noticed and his face lit up like a beacon.

‘Scotty!’ ‘Hey Gords. You ok?’ ‘Of course! You’re here, you’re back.’ ‘Fishie…’ ‘It’s ok, Scotty. I know you’re not better yet. Grandma explained you might not be yourself for a while and that’s fine.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘But you will be. Back to yourself, I mean.’ ‘I – I may not ever be the Scott I was.’ ‘Not fully, maybe, but you’ll still be Scott Tracy, big brother to John, Virgil, Alan and me. I know you. You promised you’d never leave me and you haven’t, Scotty. You haven’t.’

Tears welled in Scott’s eyes and he reached for Gordon who willingly – and carefully – snuggled up to him.