THE TRIAL OF JEFF TRACY by MS IMAGINE RATED FRM

What would it take for the Tracy men to betray one of their own? Jeff finds out when his sons combine to relieve him of command but was the disloyalty theirs, or his?

Sincere thanks to darkhelmetj who generously gave me her time when she had so little to spare, and to LMC who is just lovely. This was even worse before they got to it (if you dare imagine such a thing). Much appreciation, ladies.

Chapter 1

The most difficult thing I thought I'd have to deal with today was paperwork. Or a rescue, of course. Each time the boys fire up those Thunderbirds there is the potential for disaster. Our work is dangerous. On that note, maybe I would have encountered one of Gordon's pranks. Worse would have been one of Alan's flare-ups. Those two are a long-term experiment in the endurance of human sanity. I would even have coped with a mechanical malfunction or Virgil spilling paint on the furniture again, but this? Not this. Never this.

I've been relieved of command.

The boys just don't understand. Once they simmer down and start behaving rationally, I'm sure I'll be able to explain everything. I have a violently unreasonable urge to ground every one of them and make them scrub the Thunderbirds with toothbrushes, but I'll substitute that for a serious, stern talking to. Then there's Brains and Kyrano. A long and detailed inventory of every screw, nut and bolt on Tracy Island would keep Brains occupied for months, but it wouldn't help. As for Kyrano...his part in all this I don't understand.

My decision was based on logical, rational thought. I did what is best for International Rescue, and what is best for Penelope. That woman is infuriatingly stubborn. It's high time she settled down and stopped putting herself at risk for us. I can hardly blame her aspirations. The life of a socialite is hardly satisfying for her, but the world is changing. We have enemies. She needs to get out before I really do get her killed. It would help if she was interested in having a family, but given her preferences I doubt that's going to happen any time soon. Not even throwing my handsome older sons at her had any effect.

There's a thought - Penelope as a daughter in law. I wonder what Lucille would have said about that arrangement?

The breeze is getting cool. I should have chosen a more sheltered beach. It's too dark to go tramping through the jungle now. I'll just have to make do. A fire would be nice, though the boys would spot it from the house. The sand is still warm and there are a few trees to provide some relief from the wind. On an optimistic note, at least that wind should keep away the mosquitoes and sandflies. I should have had the sense to grab a sleeping bag or a lighter on my way out of the house. I wasn't thinking too calmly though.

It is somewhat embarrassing, a man of my years getting into such a rage. Admittedly, I can see certain similarities in Alan's temper and my own disposition. I was content to think I've had several years of experience in controlling the more volatile aspects of my constitution. Apparently that's not as true as I would like to believe. After the confrontation with the boys, Brains and Kyrano, I blew my top like a volcano.

In fact, I'm beginning to feel a little ashamed of my outburst. I suppose I have something to apologise for as well -

Wait a second!

I know that noise! An alarm and some kind of grinding...that distant rumble - of course! The pool is retracting! Thunderbird One is powering up for launch. Have they had a rescue call? Maybe I shouldn't have hurled my watch into the pool after all. I should get back to the lounge. Then again I've been relieved of command. Kyrano probably won't let me in the house, let alone near the lounge. Traitorous little -

Calm down, Jeff. This isn't his fault. It's not any of their fault, not entirely.

I could have talked to them about this earlier. I know it would have saved a lot of confusion. Their reaction was a bit extreme, but they are fond of Penelope. Aside from Tin Tin and their Grandmother, she's the only other woman that all of the boys have any kind of permanent relationship with. Poor Tin Tin, I think she is more confused than any of us. This adjustment is going to be difficult. I am sure Penelope will welcome everyone else at Foxleyheath but somehow I don't foresee her being comfortable enough to visit the island anymore. That is my fault, I know. My sons aren't too pleased about it. They tend to get possessive of their lady friends. I expect it's just one more consequence of losing their mother. It's no wonder they went crazy at me. I'm the big, bad wolf in this story.

I suppose I should just go over this from the beginning. Get myself sorted out before I march back up there and set them straight. They might not like what I have to say, but they'll listen. Scott will be able to handle the rescue on his own. I'll give him that satisfaction. Then we're all going to sit down and fix this mess, John included. How the others managed to convince him to join in I'd like to know! If he thinks that being in orbit is going to save him, he has a nasty surprise coming.

Everything started about six months ago. We responded to a rescue call that turned out to be an audacious attempt to steal our technology. We've come across that sort of thing before. Penelope usually takes care of it and sees that the perpetrators receive the justice they deserve. This time, however...this time was different. This time the criminals got what they wanted. Worst of all, they worked for a man that has proven to be a serious threat to International Rescue. Belah Gaat, better known to the world as the terrorist and heinous criminal, the Hood.

His attacks have always been erratic and often ill conceived. It is possible that we had been getting complacent to the danger this man posed. We've defeated him so many times. The Hood's latest plan was so crazy that it barely met opposition until the last second. I...I should have been a better leader to my agents. I should have taken better care of my family. When I think about what I put them through, the worry and heartache they had to cope with on my behalf...I can admit that guilt weighs heavily on me.

While I still believe the acquisition of our technology was his primary goal, the Hood added a sadistic twist of revenge to his plan for every time we have thwarted him in the past. Unbeknown to any of us, he watched us carefully at every encounter, learning how we operate. I am horrified to think of how many lives he endangered, creating emergencies for us to respond to. If only I had figured it out sooner, none of this would have happened! None of this unpleasantness would be necessary.

The Hood set his trap carefully. He knew that somehow his scapegoats were being tracked down and sent to prison. Penelope's work is usually impeccable. The only way I can fathom that he tracked us is because his subordinates were always detained immediately when we found them staging emergencies in Europe. It was simply a matter of practical distance and resources for Penelope on her home continent. When she had to travel extensively or engage other agents to investigate abroad, the process naturally slowed.

I still wonder what specifically led him to Penelope. The world thinks she's nothing more than a pretty aristocrat leading a life of idle leisure. How did the Hood of all people discover her secret? I hope that it was not a mistake on our part, or worse a mistake on hers. I know I've made her feel that way - like the weak link in the chain. However untrue it may be, it's a means to an end. The results will keep her safe.

For all our investigating, I may never know how our greatest enemy uncovered the identity of our London agent. But he did. He found her and followed her, for how long we don't know, but Penelope was where he decided to strike. This time, his attack brought us to our knees.

Chapter 2

"Excavator to Thunderbird Two."

"Go ahead."

"I'm unloading first aid equipment now but I need another kit. Can you get the booster mortar out and shoot another one up here?"

"Sure, Virgil, I've been dying to try that thing again!"

Back at Tracy Island, I shook my head. Alan. "Command to Thunderbird Two. Try to remember security protocols, please," I said. He apologised with crisp professionalism, and suddenly Virgil was back on the line.

"Excavator again. Can you make sure there's some insulin in that kit? I'll need it in a hurry."

"FAB. I'm on my way now."

"Great, just don't hit any of the lights. It's getting dark up here," added Gordon.

"Mobile control to Excavator. Everything all right?" Scott interrupted.

"We have a diabetic with a bit of a problem. His gear was destroyed in the slide and he's becoming ill."

Scott's immediate response was to grill Alan. "Thunderbird Two, is that booster mortar out yet?"

"I'm unloading her now."

"Very good. Excavator, two transport jeeps are heading up the mountain. It's going to take them a while to get to you."

"Well, we've got plenty to keep us occupied until then."

"How serious are the injuries?"

"Two people were caught in the land slide. They didn't make it. Exposure is our biggest problem. There are a few broken bones, a concussion. Plenty of scrapes and bruises."

"I'll inform the medical crew."

"Nice shot, booster!" Virgil complimented his brother.

"Thanks," Alan replied, and I could hear the grin in his voice. It's always good to know my sons enjoy their jobs.

I listened to the audio chatter back and forth between the boys. They'd been called to a rescue in the highlands of Scotland. A group of adventure seeking tourists were hiking up a mountain in the afternoon when a peculiar landslide trapped them. Local services could not reach them for several hours. Exposed to freezing winds and low temperatures, their survival chances were looking slim until International Rescue showed up.

A repetitive beep caught my attention and I turned to John's portrait. "Go ahead, son," I said.

"I've completed the survey. There was no seismic activity, no heavy rain, in fact nothing natural to cause that land slide."

I tapped my desk with two fingers and felt my patience thin. "This had better not be another -"

"Security alert! We've got company. Something is scanning Thunderbird One." John was put on the backburner as Scott continued his alarmed report.

"Source?" I demanded.

"Tracing...the signal is coming from another mountain peak, about a kilometre away. The inhibitors don't seem to be affecting their equipment."

"Alert local authorities. It's quite a coincidence that John can't find a natural cause for that land slide."

"You're kidding!" Frustrated, he made contact with the police. "They can't apprehend the perpetrators until they come down off that mountain. They must have been dropped in by chopper. I don't know how they think they're going to survive the night. It's freezing."

"Have you managed to stop them recording?"

"The signal cut out a few seconds ago. I won't risk taking Thunderbird One closer but I wouldn't mind blasting them down, Sir."

"Now, now," I reproached. Homicide was not a skill I was willing to encourage in my son. If it came to that, I had other resources. "I'll send FAB 1 in. She'll take care of things."

"She has all the fun." Scott actually sounded disappointed.

My oldest son is no fool. I'm sure he knows about the kind of assignments I used to send our delicate looking London agent on. He usually keeps his opinions to himself, a fact for which I am grateful. Penelope always endeavoured to stay within the boundaries of the law but every now and then things get coloured in various shades of grey. Thank heavens she never had much to do with the agent who acts as our legal counsel because that was where her best work was done. I suppose I'm now going to have to let Sir Jeremy take over that aspect of the job. He is loyal and willing, but I know no one will be able to replace Penny for skill.

When I called her she was in the bath. Parker answered and a few moments later a glowing Penelope appeared in the view screen. She was wrapped in a white robe and her hair was piled on top of her head, but here was no self-consciousness in her bearing.

"Please forgive my appearance, Jeff. We've been touring the park and you know how dreadfully muddy it is this time of year," she said cordially.

"Not at all." It wasn't the first time I'd called at inopportune moments. "Penelope I have an assignment for you."

Her eyebrow raised and I briefed her on the situation. She listened intently, accepted the job with a simple 'FAB' and we ended our conversation. Penelope was fine to handle the details herself. Her policy was generally to work as independently as possible until the reporting stage. I was breaking her of the habit slowly, I like to be informed, but her days as an agent for the Federal Bureau meant certain habits were ingrained. She claimed it was all essential to her style of espionage. I believed that she kept things quiet on the premise that what I didn't know couldn't hurt me. If I asked, she was always honest and I trusted her. I still do. She has earned that a hundred times over.

It wasn't long before things were wrapped up at the danger zone, at least in regards to the rescue.

"Mobile control, we're all finished up here. The jeeps are headed back down and we're right behind them," said Gordon. I could almost see Scott's satisfied nod as he replied.

"Okay, excavator. I'll start packing up. Thunderbird Two, you better get organised to leave as well."

"Sitting pretty and waiting, mobile control."

"Well done, boys," I told them.

"Thanks, Command," they answered in a jumble of response. I turned my attention back to the information John had sent while I waited for them to come home.

It took several hours for everyone to get back to the island and another forty-five minutes before they made it back to the house. Both ships had to refuel. First aid kits and uniforms needed to be replaced in each craft, ready for the next call. Virgil and Scott were meticulous in running post flight checks. Eventually they appeared, hungry and talkative, tearing through the house to get to the kitchen.

"Any news from Penelope?" Scott asked the second he saw me.

"No. She's probably not arrived yet."

"Oh, she's taking FAB 1? I thought she might fly over and get there sooner."

"Not in that weather. There's too much turbulence."

Scott sighed and went searching for a plate. Kyrano had prepared a generous breakfast that I knew would be reduced to crumbs in a few minutes.

"Did Alan and Gordon go back to bed?" Virgil asked between mouthfuls of scrambled egg and toast.

"I think so," I told him. We'd been up half the night and it was still early.

Virgil shrugged. "They worked hard; the rescue went pretty well, all things considered," he said.

"Alan slipped up on security," Scott pointed out.

"Just once. I think we can forgive him that."

Scott made a face that suggested he'd consider it and swilled some more coffee. It didn't seem like he was planning on sleeping anytime soon. They finished eating and helped Kyrano with the dishes while I got to work. Keeping International Rescue afloat takes more than spare cash. As much as I might have wished it, the books weren't going to balance themselves.

I worked through lunch, through an argument between Gordon and Alan and through Scott's constant checking in. It had gotten far beyond the annoying stage when he crept up to the desk for the sixth time. He didn't need to ask. I took a deep breath, ready to tell him to occupy himself elsewhere - anywhere, the pool, the beach, Thunderbird Five - when Penelope's portrait flashed. Scott grinned.

"Hello, Penelope," I greeted her.

"Hello, Jeff, Scott. How are you both?" Her voice and face were both tired, though Scott didn't seem to notice.

"Good, good," he answered impatiently. "Do you have any news for us about the rescue?"

"All taken care of," she told us. Listening intently, Virgil and Brains appeared from outside where they had been watching the sunset. "There were two men on that mountain; William Stewart, who sadly slipped and broke his neck on his way down and his brother Peter. That one led me on a merry little chase. I pinned him down in Wick an hour ago, where I might remind you it is absolutely freezing."

"And? What happened?" Scott asked eagerly. She smiled at him.

"He was trying to purchase a ticket for a flight to Edinburgh. I thought it might be generous to arrange an escort for his comfort and security. I believe the police even turned the heater on for him. Wasn't that kind?"

"Was he much trouble?" I asked, interrupting before Scott could respond.

"That's the thing, Jeff. The man is remarkably stupid. I doubt he came up with the plan on his own. There is some indication of a collaborator in London, where I am headed now. At any rate I confiscated all of his recording devices before he was arrested."

"Good work, Penelope," I congratulated her. She gave me a brief smile before her face became serious. She looked right at Scott, speaking gently.

"I'm afraid there is some less pleasing news. It seems that the Stewarts planted explosives on the mountainside." Scott's jaw clenched. Virgil set his hand on his brother's shoulder as she continued. "I found the remains of the charges, complete with fingerprints. The police have all the evidence."

"Good." Scott hissed. "I hope he spends a long time in prison."

"Best place for him, I daresay. I only hope I can track down his accomplice."

"In a decent world you'd be out of work, Penny," Virgil said. She smiled again.

"That is such a dreary thought. What would I do with my time?"

Scott laughed quietly and shook his head. "You're a gem," he said. Trust Penelope to lighten his mood.

"Thank you. Now I'd best getting some sleep. A girl simply cannot run about the countryside searching for mystery enemies with puffy eyes." We all wished her a good night and she hung up.

It was the last pleasant conversation I've had with her in six months.

I was sleeping soundly that night when a shrill, electronic noise woke me. The videophone in my room was wailing. I pulled myself up groggily and spoke the command that activated the screen. Penelope's alarmed face appeared.

"Jeff, it's the Hood, please I need you!" her voice was a sharp whisper and her eyes were wide with fright. She gasped suddenly and whipped around to face her intruder.

"What? Penny!" I cried, leaping from bed. All I could see was her back. There was a muffled noise and Penelope jerked.

"Get away from him!" she demanded fiercely. The screen went black. Shock froze me for half a heartbeat before experience took over. My hand slapped the emergency alarm and I yanked my robe over my pyjamas, running for the lounge. By the time the others arrived I was already tracing the call back and growling at John to get out of bed. I played back the call, grateful that standing orders meant everything was recorded. When I looked up, the boys were standing around me and their faces showed a spectrum from shock to anger; Kyrano was close by, his eyes full of regret.

"She was in London to find Peter Stewart's accomplice," Scott said flatly, and I thought I heard him curse under his breath. "The Hood. And he found her first. What are our orders?"

"John is alerting authorities. The Federal Bureau will have agents there before the police can respond. We'll have to rely on them to take care of her for now. The apartment - it's right in the city, there'll be people everywhere. If we charge in we'll ruin Penelope's cover."

"But she's in danger!" Gordon protested.

"I know, but how long do you think she'll survive if the world finds out she's with International Rescue? Think about the work she does for us. There are a lot of disgruntled criminals who'd love to get their hands on her."

John interrupted before Gordon could reply. "I have an incoming signal from London, Father. The caller has requested to be patched through to International Rescue headquarters."

"Outgoing audio only."

"FAB."

The screen lit up. I could see the Hood, his leering smirk filling the view. His thick, guttural voice echoed around the lounge like a wave of malevolence.

"Ah...International Rescue. Why don't you let me see you?"

"What do you want, Gaat?" I asked shortly.

"You know my name. Thanks to my insipid little hostage, I now know yours." He paused and his face broke into a sinister grin. "Jeff Tracy."

My stomach twisted. Penelope was a federally trained agent. What had he done to force her to give up that information? What else did he know? The Hood merely smirked.

"You know, Jeff, I have been chasing you for years. Every rescue, every time you ventured into the world, I was there. I've used my money, my power...my brother." Kyrano stiffened. "But you have always eluded me. You have become my obsession. I want International Rescue. I want your secrets. Your ships. You. I'm tired of our game of cat and mouse. It's time to end this."

I growled, my fingers clutching the edge of my desk, nails carving into the wood.

"I want you at her mansion in Foxleyheath in an hour, alone, or they die."

Tracy Island was silent for a sickening, tense second.

The Hood gave a satisfied grunt and stepped aside. Behind him, Parker was crumpled on the ground, his arms and legs shackled. Blood trickled from his nose and his eyes were half shut, staring blankly at the wall. I hoped to God he was only unconscious. The sounds of a struggle reached my ears and seconds later Penelope was dragged into view by two men wearing black ski masks. She twisted her wrists, trying to break free, but the men held her fast.

"If you don't let me go I shall be forced to inflict serious harm," she hissed. The Hood snorted at her.

"Such unladylike behaviour," he taunted. Penelope drew herself to her full height and glared at him. He smirked at us then looked Penelope dead in the eye.

"No - Penelope, look away!" I shouted uselessly. Penelope blinked slowly and she seemed to waver. She tried to shake her head but it drooped lethargically. We could only watch, helpless, as the Hood took over her mind. When her face rose to us again, her slightly unfocused eyes stared ahead uselessly. The Hood moved closer to her than she would ever have allowed and slowly, he ran a finger down her cheek. He turned his mocking stare back to us.

"Time is running out," he sneered and the transmission ended.

The monitor flickered to black. There was a soft cry and I looked over my shoulder at the door where Brains stood with his arm around Tin Tin. Her face was drained of colour and she held a tight fist to her mouth. Kyrano moved to his daughter's side and spoke quietly. She nodded and left the room immediately.

"What kind of monster is that man?" Gordon asked. His arms were folded tight across his chest, the energy in his buoyant voice all but gone. Kyrano clasped his hands under the sleeves of his robe.

"The Hood is no man. He is black magic and evil intent."

"We have to do something," insisted Alan, "and fast. Father?"

I shoved aside my conflicting thoughts and answered him as best I could. "We'll take the risk, for Penelope and Parker. I'll fly in Thunderbird One to Foxleyheath -"

"But Father - "

"Thunderbird Two will follow at a safe distance." I stared John's objection down and he nodded respectfully.

"Why is he drawing you away from the city?" Virgil asked as I marched to the lamps. He took a seat on the couch.

"We'll find out soon enough. Alan and Gordon; fly with Virgil. Scott and Brains have command."

A chorus of FAB answered me and I gripped the lamps tight, tilting backward to load into Thunderbird One. Agitated as hell, I flew that baby from the south pacific to England like she was on fire, leaving frenzied air currents and the sound barrier behind. I kept glancing at the clock. Every minute that ticked over left my mouth dry. It was going to be close. I was just over France when the rocket started to groan. I'd pushed her limits. The onboard computer was screaming warnings and spewing technical data at me.

"Just a few minutes more. Come on, baby!"

Thunderbird One gave a metallic shriek. Scott called from the island, alarmed. "Father! There's too much stress on the engines!"

"We built this girl tough, Scott. She'll live."

"Mr Tracy, you uh, need to ease back!"

"Can't do that, Brains. I'm nearly out of time."

"At that speed you're going to uh, overheat and compromise structural integrity."

"He's going to kill them if I don't get there soon."

"Father, you're going to blow the ship apart. We'll lose you, Thunderbird One, Penelope, Parker and any civilians unlucky enough to get hit by debris. Now slow down!"

"Scott, trust me! I know what I am doing!"

He was silent for a moment. His clipped reply betrayed his nerves. "FAB."

I was sorry for the rebuke, but there was no time to dwell on it. I hit the brakes. They were right, of course. Thunderbird One settled back to a safer speed.

"Thank you, Father," Scott said quietly. "I apologise for -"

"Not necessary. We have more important things to worry about. I'm over the Channel now. Have you heard anything from the police or the Bureau?"

"Only that the Hood took the hostages under armed guard to a helicopter. They left London after he called us."

"I'll be there shortly. How far away is Thunderbird Two?"

"At least forty minutes."

"I don't suppose they can over clock her without shaking themselves apart?"

"Sorry, Mr Tracy," Brains said and I could hear regret in his voice.

"Never mind," I said, adding with absolute surety, "we've defeated this bastard before. We'll do it again."

Chapter 3

Thunderbird One landed with few minutes to spare. The yard was deserted. I could see no cars, no people; nothing to indicate there was any danger. Oh, but I could feel it. The hairs on my neck were standing on end. Sweat was moistening my forehead. My ears were tuned to the lack of sound. The Hood was there, all right.

The service entrance was locked so I made my way carefully up the main stairs. I took a deep breath at the top and silently opened the doors.

I walked cautiously into the foyer. An empty, false calm greeted me. My feet made no sound as I crossed the marble floor. There is a knack to walking silently that had taken me years to learn. Heel first and then roll on the outside edge of your foot... Penelope had taught me how to perfect the skill. I hated that I was using it now to save her life.

I made my way through the rooms, one by one, searching for my enemy. As I neared the ballroom, I could hear a piano. The clashing notes jarred my nerves and a feeling of danger crept up my spine. The doors were swung wide open and I saw Parker standing at attention in his formal uniform, a silver tray in one hand. One tiny burden lifted from my shoulders. He was alive.

Slowly, I stepped into the room. Penelope was sitting at an elegantly set table. The crystal and silver sparkled. Light reflected off the facets of the diamonds that hung around her throat and from her ears. Her lips were painted a deep rose blush, her hair swept away from her face. The dress she wore was an ivory colour and it flowed from a strapless bodice to a full skirt with graceful ease. In any other circumstances, Penelope would have looked beautiful, but the desperate expression in her eyes ruined the image.

As the song came to an end, another man joined her. He had been hiding out of sight, but now he stood by Penelope, one hand resting on her bare shoulder. He looked massive with our petite Penelope by his side. She turned her head from him but made no other movement. The Hood was wearing a black suit, the elegant lines of the formal clothing clashing with his twisted personality.

The whole scene was a pantomime of elegance, a farce, though for whose benefit I didn't know. I stood still, watching with growing anger as the Hood traced his fingers across the pale skin of Penelope's neck.

"How kind of you to join us," he said with his usual condescending tone. I glanced at Parker. He made no reaction to my presence. My eyes rested on the Hood.

"Let them go." It was not a request.

"I don't think so," he replied with a smirk. "Lady Penelope is quite comfortable. I don't believe she wishes to leave, do you, my lady?"

"No," she said stiffly as if the word choked her. I tried to let her know that it was all right, that I knew she was being controlled. My expression must have registered. Something in her eyes told me she understood.

"You see?" The Hood continued. "And her servant is so very loyal, he does not wish to leave her side."

"No, Master," Parker replied in a dull voice. Penelope's face turned stony. I had the impression that if she could move she would have ripped the Hood's throat out with her hands. Parker still made no independent reaction. Something pricked the back of my neck and I jumped.

A pins and needles feeling began to creep over my body. The Hood chuckled. My arm jerked - horrified, I tried to force it still. It reached up, hand outstretched and grasping at the air.

"What's happening?" I gasped, struggling against my body. A sudden sharp pain in my head made me stumble. I gritted my teeth. The Hood was trying to take control of me. I would not let him!

My legs began to move. Dizziness swallowed my senses. I tried to shout, tried to pull myself free. I took a step, and another and another, without willing them. My body reached the table. I struggled against the invisible force but my hand didn't so much as shake. My fingers clutched the tablecloth. Dread slammed my heart against my ribs, beating hard as I saw myself grasp the handle of a long knife.

"What the hell..." I whispered. My fingers tightened on the handle. A loud clanging began to sound between my ears. I wrestled with the weapon to no avail. The more I fought, the worse it became. My legs took another step. My head began to feel as though it were burning. Penelope stood slowly. Her chair scraped the floor and she stumbled backward. Parker came alive, placed a hand on her waist and shoved her backward. My arm rose and without a second to protest I punched him square in the jaw.

I'm sorry, Parker! I wanted to shout but my tongue was trapped in silence. There was static over my vision. That agonising, tearing pain in my head seemed to twist and come alive. Frustrated tears blurred my sight. I had to fight. I had to gain control! I cried out and my brain seemed to explode in white pain. I tumbled over Parker and fell to my knees. The Hood snarled. His eyes glowed sickly yellow and suddenly I was standing again, advancing on Penelope, cursing and screaming silently.

The Hood watched us with a studied expression of shock on his face. The glint in his eye was insulting. He spoke words that were meant to sound pleading, defensive. My fingers clutched that knife with a determination I was incapable of feeling. I tried to shout, tried to warn Penny but the power over my mind forced me silent. The knife rose higher, the point directed straight at her. She whimpered, understanding what was to come.

I came close; my free hand took hold of her and pulled her towards me - no!

The knife slid into her body.

Penelope gasped, a whispered sound of torture. The knife pulled free. Warm blood spilled over my fingers. Penelope swayed, then buckled against me.

At that moment, something inside my head seemed to tear. I screamed and suddenly my body was released. I cried out, sobbed. The knife hit the floor. We fell to the ground together, my hands shaking of their own power. Penelope was trembling in my arms, her face grey. I couldn't breathe. I stabbed her. I just tried to kill my own friend. My body retched at the thought.

"Oh, God, forgive me!" I whispered, clamping my will over my heaving stomach. She tried to speak and I told her to hush. I lay her on the floor and gathered up the fabric of her dress, pressing it against the wound. She cried out, tears ran down her face.

"Virgil where the hell are you?" I yelled into my watch.

"We're going to catch fire if I go any faster. Eleven minutes."

"Tell John to get an ambulance on its way immediately. And hurry up!"

I didn't hear his reply. Penelope shuddered and groaned. Parker began to rouse himself. I silently prayed they would both survive. Tiny sounds escaped Penelope's throat.

"Shh, it'll be ok, stay calm," I begged her.

"Jeff," she whispered.

"Don't!" I pleaded.

"He's calling the police." She struggled with the words. "Cameras..." She moaned softly, her eyes shutting tight.

I looked around the room - The Hood was gone and sure enough, I could see surveillance cameras mounted on the walls. What the hell was he planning? I had to go after him - but no. Penelope. I shook my head. I needed the boys. Eleven minutes would see her dead.

"I can't leave you."

She tried to argue, but lacked the strength. Parker dragged himself to us. "I'll stay." His words came out slurred. I looked at Penelope and nodded.

"Where are they?"

"Upstairs office," Parker replied. His attention was already on the wound. He pressed down, hard, to stop the bleeding. Penelope did not react. I squeezed her hand quickly, wincing at their icy feel and then I ran.

The two men we'd seen earlier were guarding the door to Penelope's private study. I hurled myself at the first one, knocking him out cold. The second tried to subdue me - by that stage I was livid. I attacked him viciously, punch after punch, until he too lay in a useless pile on the floor. I burst through the doors, roaring. Inside the Hood sat alone at Penny's desk. He took one look at me and his lip curled in a sour snarl.

"You're leaving her too? Betrayal must be habit forming. I pity any woman who dares form an attachment to you. They all end up dead."

That rotten bastard was trying to use Lucille to bait me. I felt my face twist, my hands clenched into fists at my side. I took a step forward. I would not let him intimidate me.

"If I have to kill you to stop this, I will," I threatened from between grinding teeth.

He merely scoffed and stood, calmly smoothing his clothing. "Does it matter? The police are on their way. She will be dead, your fingerprints on the knife that killed her. There is a Thunderbird on the lawn. What conclusion do you think the media will jump to when they see you, Jeff Tracy, being dragged into a police vehicle, your International Rescue uniform smeared in blood...and Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward being taken from her home in a body bag?"

My chest was suddenly tight. He was going to destroy us. That was his plan. The Hood had footage of me running a knife through Lady Penelope - of Parker trying to defend her, of himself pleading for mercy. He was going to get the police, the media involved. No one would believe me. I would go to prison. The Hood would be free to take International Rescue...to take my family. I couldn't let it happen! I had to defeat him - I had to destroy that evidence. I growled and tensed. As he moved around the desk I hurled myself at him.

My fingers tore into his throat for a bare second. Taller, heavier, he knocked me on my back, kicking my ribs before I could move away. Pain took my breath. I coughed and rolled, blocking his next kick and snatching his ankle. He twisted, I yanked him off balance and he landed on me. We wrestled across the floor. My struggles weren't enough. Huge hands tightened around my neck, squeezing hard. I heard something crack, felt my windpipe constrict. My air was gone. I tried to fight back. My lungs began to burn. He couldn't win - he couldn't! Spots appeared in my vision and I saw the Hood's eyes glow again. I choked against his hands, my body started to feel weak, my mind began to slip into darkness...

"Freeze! Police! Let go of him!"

White flashes blinded me. Suddenly I could breath again. The Hood was dragged off me, kicking and howling. My body spasmed, I coughed over and over again, air finally flowing into my lungs. Someone rolled me onto my side. Sharp pain coursed through my head. My wrists were locked into metal cuffs. I was too exhausted to struggle, until I heard the words that nearly stopped my heart.

"You are under arrest."

"No!" I croaked.

"You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." The warnings continued but I barely heard them. The other men in the room started talking about something far more terrifying than jail.

"Is that an International Rescue uniform?"

"That's Jeff Tracy!"

"What're we gonna to do? There's cameras everywhere outside!"

"How the hell did they get here so fast?"

"Apparently there was a tip off over an hour ago."

"This doesn't look good."

"Calm down, lads. We have a job to do."

"Yes, sir."

"D'ya require medical attention? Oi, Sir! D'ya need to see a doctor?"

Trapped in my own dread, it took me a moment to realise the officer was talking to me. "Yes," I managed to squeak. My head throbbed with the effort.

"Get another ambulance crew in here."

"Penny - is she all right?" I asked. My voice was still hoarse and weak.

"We can't discuss it. Robbins, set up some tape."

I lay back against the floor, waiting for medical aid. Suddenly, the room was quiet.

"This will just take a moment, gentlemen," a man spoke. His tone was civil but commanding, his words perfectly pronounced in a crisp British accent. There was a tense pause.

"Yes, sir." Footsteps moved away and I heard a latch click. The door was shut.

"Mr Tracy, I believe?"

A pair of polished leather shoes and dark slacks came into my view. Someone hauled me into a sitting position and I could see a tall, dark haired man, perhaps in his late thirties. He was scrutinising my face. I cleared my damaged throat.

"Who are you?" I croaked.

"I'm with the Federal Agents Bureau. I've seen the camera evidence."

"Already? How?"

He waited without speaking, his steady eyes silently accusing. I inferred there had been another tip off and I scowled bitterly.

"I did not do that of my own will!" I snapped.

Aside from those critical eyes, his face was unreadable. When he did speak again, his point was painfully clear.

"How convenient. You should be aware that we protect our own."

"Is Penelope going to be all right?" I asked anxiously. His eyes locked onto mine.

"As soon as you arrive at the police station, you will need to find a very good lawyer to avoid a life sentence for murder."

I sucked in my breath. Was Penelope...oh God! Oh God, no. He must have understood the look on my face.

"Close, but not yet," he said gravely.

I swallowed and took a shaky breath. "How long can they keep me without charges?"

"Seventy-two hours. Another twenty-four if a judge agrees that it is necessary. But let's face it, Mr Tracy. The evidence is damning."

"Why are you here?"

He paused and stared at me. "Are you from International Rescue?"

It was impossible for me to answer. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he seemed satisfied.

"The Bureau is willing to help the organization. We will not step in to prevent the course of justice. If you murdered one of ours, you will rot in prison for the rest of your life." How could I react to that promise? He continued. "However we are willing to protect International Rescue's anonymity as a gesture of goodwill for the thousands of lives they have saved."

I was stunned by such generosity. I could not thank him, not without admitting my involvement. He knew anyway, but I could not say the words. He nodded once and took a plastic bag from his pocket. He removed my sash and I suggested he take my watch as well. He sealed the bag and hid it in his jacket.

"I can assure you everything will be most thoroughly destroyed."

"Won't the police be suspicious?" I asked.

"There's so much blood on you that I doubt they'll notice the difference." I looked down at my clothing. I had not realised. My skin shrank from the sticky warmth. The smell of Penelope's blood hit my nostrils. I shuddered.

"Unfortunately, I need to make a little more mess to cover the area the sash kept clean." He took a sterile packet from another pocket and cracked it open, removing a syringe. "I'll start by taking some more blood," he explained, lifting my sleeve and sinking it into my vein. When the syringe was full he smeared the blood over my uniform. He took a tiny blade and made long slashes across the needle marks in my arm and the corresponding fabric of my sleeve. I hissed and tried not to tense. He stood and tucked everything away in a pocket.

"Good luck, Mr Tracy. You are going to need it."

With that, he was gone.

A pair of curt ambulance officers replaced the mysterious stranger almost immediately. They inspected my bruised neck and after giving me pain meds, pronounced I was safe to be moved. I was lifted to my feet. Without a word I was escorted through Penelope's home. Police were wandering the building. I saw the housekeeper being questioned in the foyer but there was no sign of Parker. As we left the ordered activity of the house, sunlight and camera flashes burst across my eyes. A press of reporters closed in on me. Microphones were pushed into my face. The police were uselessly ordering everyone back.

"Are you a member of International Rescue?"

"Can you tell us what happened to Lady Penelope?"

"Mr Tracy, why are you covered in blood? Are you injured?"

"Who was that man police just dragged away?"

"Did International Rescue respond to an emergency call here?"

"How did Thunderbird One take off without a pilot?"

I tried not to react to their questions, but that last one gave me hope. John must have remotely commanded Thunderbird One to return to base. I prayed that the boys were far away. The last thing we needed was Thunderbird Two arriving on the scene. I took the steps as quickly as I could. On each side of me, officers gripped my arms, pushing me through the crowd to a police car. I was shoved onto the plastic covered backseat, still cuffed. I caught a momentary glimpse of Parker in a car nearby. He nodded at me, then his car turned around to exit the property. The reporters crushed against the windows, blocking my view.

Slowly, the vehicle crept forward. Cameras were bumping against the windows to get a shot of me. One of the two frustrated officers in the front seat switched on the loudspeaker.

"Move or you will be charged with obstruction of justice! That means you too, Miss Wilder!" A blond wearing a bright red suit jacket blushed and hurried out of the way. The press seemed to understand and let us pass.

"Bloody vultures," one of the officers mumbled.

"Any news on her ladyship?"

"Why d'ya care?"

"She donates money for the pony club. Sometimes lets my kids come ride her horses."

"Yeah well, she's a good bird." In the rear vision mirror I could see the man eye me suspiciously. "Pity the bugger who stabbed her. The folks in Foxleyheath are gonna be crazy."

I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes, feeling dizzy.

"I s'pose they'll move the trial, what with the local judge being friends with her and all."

"Prob'ly."

The radio crackled and the policeman in the passenger seat began a drawn out conversation over the two way. The driver pulled from Penelope's property onto the road and took off with lights flashing.

"You all right back there?" he asked after a moment.

I cracked one eye open. I was being taken to a British police station in handcuffs, after being choked by my arch nemesis and set up by that same evil man for attempted murder. Under his power I had stabbed a close friend whose survival was uncertain and the security of my family, business and secret organization was torn to shreds. Was I all right?

"Definitely not."

I closed that eye again. The situation seemed less hopeless if I couldn't see the fact that I was in custody.

"Do you need an ambulance?"

I shook my head. "Not that sort of problem," I mumbled.

The rest of the short journey occurred in silence. At the small, country station there was a confused crowd gathering and of course, more reporters. The vehicle stopped and one of the men stepped outside and moved to the door on my left. It opened and I was told to get out. The press swarmed at me once more.

"Mr Tracy! Lady Penelope's butler was here just moments ago proclaiming your innocence -"

"Did you try to murder Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward?"

"What does International Rescue have to do with this?"

"Murderer!"

"International Rescue?"

"Murderer!"

"Murderer!"

Chapter 4

Thanks to Emerald Queen for the advice on this one!

"Parker!" The sliding door slammed behind me but I ran to the side of the cell. I extended my hand through the bars separating us and Parker shook it firmly, comfortingly.

"Mr. Tracy! You all right?"

"I've had better days. You?"

He scoffed and looked at me hopelessly. "I'm in the bloody pokey, Jeff." All traces of his dignified accent were gone and Parker the chauffer and butler was replaced by Nosey the common crook. It was an arrangement that would stay in place for several days.

"We'll get of here, don't worry." I tried to feel as confident as I sounded.

"Have you heard anythin' about 'er ladyship?" Parker asked, his face ashen. I shook my head. They'd refused to tell me.

"I was charged with attempted murder. At the least that means she's still alive."

He sagged and took a seat on a wooden bench at the back of his cell. I followed his example and made myself as comfortable as I could.

"What the hell is going on?" I mumbled to the floor.

"Buggered if I know," Parker replied. He was tapping his feet and rubbing his hands together. It was cold in the old building. From what I understood, the gathering mob outside was creating so much disturbance that we were to be transported in the morning to a more secure prison, closer to London. One that had decent heating.

"Parker, do you know what happened to the Hood?" I asked, realising I had no clue as to his fate. Parker ginned at me and pointed to a door on the far side of the room. There was only a small grill to indicate it was a cell.

"He got a bit testy with the cops so they drugged 'im. They dumped 'im in solitary confinement. He 'asn't been interviewed yet. I heard 'em say that some federal agent gave instructions that no one was allowed any contact."

"That's good," I said. "Tell me - how did all this happen? How did the Hood find you?"

Parker moved closer. All of a sudden he looked tired and old. "I dunno. We'd just arrived and 'er ladyship was takin' a shower. It'd been a long drive and she was tired after tramping up that bloody mountain and chasing that crook."

"I can imagine."

"Well she was just finishin' up when there was a knock at the door. I thought that was odd in the middle of the night. Her ladyship heard it and started to get dressed. I opened the door and these men in ski masks jumped me. I called out to 'er ladyship. She came running; saw the Hood walking in the door. She ran to call you. There wasn't much we could do on our own."

"What happened then?"

"Well...I tried to fight the Hood. He knocked me flat out. I woke up while I was being carried up onto the roof. There was a helicopter; m'lady and the Hood were already inside. He was strapping 'er in and got a bit...forward. She must 'ave said something and he slapped her. She tried to fight but as soon as they got me in the chopper, he said if she tried anything else he'd kill me. She stopped fighting."

"He didn't do anything else, did he?" I asked, suddenly feeling ill. Parker looked at me gravely.

"Not 'till we reached the mansion."

"Oh, shit."

"He made her fix herself up, put on her makeup, do her hair, all naked. Made her dress in front him. That's when he thought he'd have a go. She knows how to take care of herself but he's stronger. We both fought him but he...hypnotised me, or something...those glowing eyes. Gives a man the creeps. I dunno what happened 'till I woke up and saw...well. You were there. You know."

"Oh, Penelope," I whispered sadly. My mind flashed back to the mansion - the Hood running his fingers over her neck, Penelope turning her head from him. When Parker spoke again, his voice broke, confessing the same guilt that I felt.

"I just 'ope she managed to fight him off. I should 'ave been stronger. I should 'ave taken better care of her." I reached through the bars and put my hand on his burdened shoulder.

"We'll get him, Parker. I don't know how yet, but we'll get him."

A metallic scraping sound alarmed us that we had company coming. An officer strode into the room. He looked at us both with suspicion.

"You have visitors, Tracy. Make it quick."

I glanced at Parker and shrugged, moving to the front of the cell.

"In here?" a familiar voice asked from the next room and then Virgil and Alan were there.

"Dad!" Alan cried, running forward and grasping my arms through the bars. "Dad are you okay? What are you wearing?"

I glanced down at the grey shirt and slacks that had been provided after my clothes had been taken for evidence. "Never mind. I'm fine. Is everyone all right?"

Virgil answered gravely. "Scared. Shocked. But okay. The doctors at the hospital won't tell me anything about Penelope except that she's had surgery and she's alive." The relief must have been evident on my face because Virgil gave me a sympathetic look. "I talked to your lawyer. He says they can keep Parker for three days but there's no evidence against him so he'll probably be released tomorrow, but Father..."

"It's fine," I said, trying to reassure him. His face was suddenly determined.

"We know you're innocent," he promised.

"Thank you, son."

"We expect the police will want to search the island. They warned Scott they'd be around with a warrant."

"I don't know what they think they're going to find but to save themselves the hassle they could just ask my permission," I said, glancing at the supervising officer. He sniffed and turned away.

"I'm going to pick John up from his uh, vacation spot tomorrow," Alan told me. "And listen, Parker," he leaned in and spoke quietly. "Before you get out and see the damage, I'm real sorry about the scratch on the Rolls."

Parker took a deep breath. His face momentarily flushed red but he gathered himself quickly. "It's all right, mate." Alan smiled, relieved.

"Time's up," the officer barked. He tapped his watch. I gripped Alan and Virgil's hands tight.

"Listen boys, I want you to tell the others I'll talk to them soon. I love you all. You remember that. Thank you for coming. I'm very proud of you." They squeezed my hands and Alan gave me a courageous smile.

"I'll come see you again tomorrow," Virgil promised.

"Out you go," the policeman ordered. They obeyed reluctantly. With the clang of a metal door locking, they were gone. I leaned my head against the bars, my arms still reaching into the room where my sons had been standing.

"Mr Tracy?" Parker asked.

"Yes?" I replied, not moving.

"When young Alan says there's a scratch, how much damage should I expect?"

I straightened and turned, slouching against the wall of bars. "Multiple dents and possibly a missing door."

Parker sighed forlornly. "I figured as much."

We spent the next several hours staring at the ceiling, both of us stretched out on the uncomfortable benches. I was tired, confused and anxious. I had to remind myself to stay calm. The boys would sort everything out. I had to trust them. My body was aching and the hard, cold wood underneath me certainly didn't help. The cells were old but well maintained. Occasionally a policeman would stride into the room and check on us. We were offered water, food and blankets, which we accepted gratefully. The night passed slowly and neither Parker nor I spent any of it in sleep.

I could still smell blood. It was soaked into my pores, turning to a sick, stale odour as the hours passed. The stickiness had been replaced by a dry, brown crust. It cracked on the skin of my hands, clung to my body where Penelope had collapsed against me. I shuddered and remembered her face, the way it looked when the last blush of colour drained away, replaced by shock and pain. The sound of her whimpers. How suddenly her body had turned cold and slack.

Parker turned his back to me, allowing me some shred of privacy when guilty tears came. I could not get the image of her out of my mind, humiliated and threatened, naked in front of the evil, smirking Hood. Parker said he had been hypnotised, that he didn't remember what happened after he had tried to fight the Hood away from her.

My shoulders shook. What had he done to her afterward?

I should have seen it coming. I had failed in my duty to keep the people I care about safe from that monster. Failed to keep innocent people safe from the disasters he caused. I could have poured more time, more resources into finding him. If I hadn't been so damned thoughtless, so stupid, I could have stopped everything before it even began. How was I going to look Penelope in the eye again? How? My arrogance allowed this. That knife did not move of my power, did not try to kill her with my consent, but my complacency might as well have.

I curled up in the corner of the cell, blanket wrapped around me with undeserving warmth. International Rescue was on the verge of complete exposure. Complete extinction. I had put my friends and my family in danger. My sons should never have had to cope with this. Never. With each accusation, I found the undeniable evidence that too much of the situation was my fault.

Sometime early in the morning, right before dawn when the birds started to stir, we were jerked to attention by the sound of an evil growl. I looked at Parker and he gestured to the cell at the end of the room that contained the Hood. The noise sounded again. There was a thump, a scrape and then a howl that sent shivers down my spine. A young officer entered the cell room warily. Clearly disturbed by the noises, his hand gripped his truncheon tight.

"Oi, what's going on in there?" he called.

"Release. Me." Each word was hissed in a menacing voice.

"Calm down and I'll think about it," the policeman said. Another officer joined him.

"He awake?"

"Yeah. Pretty pissed off, too."

We heard the scraping noise again. A deceptively gentle glow appeared from within the dark room. I looked to Parker. His eyes were wide. We both backed away. The officers watched us in confusion.

"Don't look at his eyes," I warned them.

"Jeff Tracy!" The Hood screamed and began to rage in his cell. The door shook, rattling against the lock and hinges. One of the officers ran back to the other room. The other shouted back at his prisoner.

"Calm down or we'll be forced to sedate you again!"

"Release me!" The walls seemed to shake now, the light blinked on and off. The second officer appeared and tossed a firearm to his colleague.

"What the f-"

"Release me! Now!"

"Calm down! We are armed and authorised to shoot you!"

A cold laugh started in that cell, echoing into the room. The shaking stopped. There was no sound but that insane cackling. Suddenly, the door tore from the frame, hurled through the air by an invisible force. The Hood stepped into the open. The remains of his restraints were still fastened around his wrists but the chain connecting them was snapped. A bile coloured glow emanated from his eyes. Warned by experience, Parker and I quickly turned away.

"You fools!" the Hood shouted. There was tension in the air; a sucking that caused the bars to shake. The brick walls seemed to groan inwards. I looked at my feet and I swear I saw dust and pebbles shifting towards him. The policemen were poised to fire, both white as sheets.

"Stop it! Whatever the hell you are doing, stop it now!"

The Hood began to laugh and a sharp whistle broke the air. His triumph turned to howls. There was another whistle and another.

"No! No no no!"

A heavy shock hit the floor. Suddenly, the room was quiet again. The officers were still poised, tranquilliser guns fixed on their target.

"What in the name of all that is holy was that?" one of the policemen whispered. I turned to see the Hood on the floor, his face frozen in a snarl even in unconsciousness.

"That is how he made me attack my friend," I said quietly.

"Bloody hell," one of the men said wearily. The other rolled his eyes at me.

"Tracy, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. It's practically an admission of guilt. Just do yourself a favour and keep your mouth shut. Come on, Tony. Help me get this monster shackled."

"You ok, Parker?" I asked. He was shaking his head slowly.

"I'm too old for this."

I knew exactly how he felt.

We both returned to our cold benches and watched as the Hood was severely restrained.

"What the hell do we do with him now?" one officer muttered, looking at the mangled door lying across the room.

"Keep pumping him full of tranquilliser darts until the transport gets here."

"Fair enough." The officer checked his weapon. I had originally assumed it to be a gun. He took several cartridges from his pocket and loaded them. "Why don't you call this in, Rob?"

Rob nodded and took one more glance at the Hood before heading out of the room. When his colleague had gone, the officer looked towards us. "You've dealt with him before? You told us to avoid his eyes."

I nodded slowly. Exhausted from the long, damning night, I answered shortly. "He's evil."

"Oh, you think?" His voice tightened and he crossed himself.

I sighed. "Tony, is it?"

"Yeah, but don't tell my partner I let you call me that." I nodded and glanced back at my incapacitated enemy. The sharp anguish I had felt earlier was now subdued, replaced with determined, smouldering anger.

"Keep him unconscious. Don't worry about overdosing him either. When you transport him, you better make sure he stays blindfolded. When you get a glimpse of those eyes, staring at you..."

"What...what was that light?" Tony looked frightened. I shrugged.

"I don't know."

"It was horrible."

"That I do know. Protect yourself around him. He is the most dangerous thing you have ever come across. I can promise you that."

Tony swallowed hard. "I believe you," he said, looking me straight in the eye. It wouldn't get me out of jail, but it was a start.

Several hours later our lawyer arrived with the prison transport. He walked confidently, followed by the officer named Rob.

"Mr. Parker, you're free to go," Rob announced. Parker released a heavy breath. Rob unlocked his cell and let him out. "You'll need to sign some forms."

"What about Mr. Tracy?" Parker asked, hesitating.

"I'm still working on it," the lawyer admitted. "Jeff, you're going to be transported to a more secure facility. The townspeople have been phoning the station all night and are making threats. You'll be safer elsewhere."

"And what about Gaat?"

"After his outburst, the police are going to slap a few charges on him to keep him in custody longer. He'll be at the same facility, but I've negotiated a separate transfer for you."

I sighed and ran a dirty hand through my hair. "I don't suppose I'll be able to talk to my family first?"

"I'm sorry, no. I have spoken to your sons about this. They send their love and support. They asked me to tell you that they contacted your mother. They wanted to be sure she didn't find out from an over zealous reporter or the evening news."

"Damn it. Listen, what about Penelope? Can you give me any other news?"

"She was in surgery again overnight and when I called, they said she was still asleep."

"Asleep? Not...unconscious or anythin'?" Parker pressed.

"The word they used was - 'asleep' and that is all I know."

Parker let his frustration out with a string of uncharacteristically filthy language.

"That was creative," the lawyer commented, taking a step back.

"Get to that hospital, Parker. Find out what's happening. And please keep an eye on my family." He shook my hand through the bars.

"Of course, Mr Tracy."

Rob cleared his throat to interrupt. "Time to go," he informed me. Parker was asked to leave. The cell was unlocked, my hands were once again cuffed and I was escorted into daylight.

It had been quiet all night in my cell and I was completely unprepared for the crowd. More reporters. More cameras. A lot more police. The questions started again. I ignored the microphones being shoved into my face and allowed the police to lead me to an armoured car. I was secured inside, grateful when the doors shut away the press mob.

"Where to?" a man asked. I looked up and was surprised to see the federal agent I had met the day before, unaccompanied and waiting behind the wheel. My jaw must have hung because he chuckled.

"Good morning to you, too." He turned his back to me and the car began to push through the mass of people. "I'd imagine you've had an unpleasant night," he said conversationally. He tossed something over his shoulder. It glinted silver in the light and landed in my lap. Keys.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll pass you some coffee as soon as you get yourself unshackled."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked the stranger after thanking him and releasing myself from the cuffs.

"Lady Penelope," he said. He passed a travel mug of black coffee to me and I accepted it with more thanks.

"Is she-"

"She's going to be fine. I spoke to her a few hours ago. She's in a bit of discomfort, as she put it, which I am going to translate into pain. Honestly, that woman."

"That's Penelope," I said, relived almost to tears.

"She's going to stay in hospital another three or four days. By that time we should have your predicament sorted out. She insists that you are innocent and managed to convince my superiors to give you what aid we can. Penny can certainly be persuasive. It was a very impressive display."

I managed a weak smile. She was fine. If she was wearing down men who were supposedly older, wiser and more powerful than her, she was definitely fine. She did it to me all the time. But wait a moment...did he call her Penny?

The agent reached back once more to pass a brown paper bag. I opened it, happy to find a hot roll stuffed with bacon and egg. Not realising how hungry I had been, I devoured it.

"Thought that might cheer you up. Now, unfortunately, we at the Bureau have to at least appear that we are operating within the law, which means I cannot whisk you away to your island paradise just yet. You must remain in custody for the time being. Lady Penelope asked that I speak to you this morning so that you aren't left wondering."

"I appreciate it."

"I did ask her about that whole International Rescue business. She concocted a tidy coincidence. Her man Parker called the police for aide from a mobile telephone. International Rescue happened to be in the area, picked up the signal and dropped in to see if they could help. The police arrived just as the pilot landed and so he took off again immediately. Is that satisfactory?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Lady Penelope also asked me to keep my little discovery a secret, which I am willing to do, on one condition."

"Which is?" I asked warily.

"Do let me send you a resume!"

I grinned at the eagerness in his voice and secretly, his polite return to addressing Penelope by her title. "You have a deal," I agreed. The agent smiled back at me.

"Apparently a representative of IR is going to contact me today and we shall work out the details of your release. So far, traditional negotiations are producing less than encouraging results. We may have to bend the rules, so be prepared. We will take care of you, Mr Tracy."

"Thank you. I don't suppose I am allowed a name?" He glanced at me and grinned.

"Call me Spook, for now."

"Thank you, Spook. Although I wouldn't really know, I am sure that an organization like International Rescue could use such a talented man."

He gave me an understanding wink. "I hope so, Mr Tracy. I hope so."

Chapter 5

I wonder why Thunderbird Two hasn't taken off yet?

It must have been three, maybe four hours since One launched. Perhaps the situation isn't as dire as it first seemed. I wonder what the emergency was? There have been fires in the Blue Mountains. John has been monitoring the situation closely. Damn, I wish I had kept my watch. Sure, the boys would have been able to find me in a second, but at least I could talk to John.

The temperature has dropped. I guess it's around eleven o'clock. If I came out from under the trees I could check by looking at the stars, but I'm comfortable, stubborn and unwilling to go back out in that wind. I've been watching the crabs across the sand. They're white, spidery looking things. Brains tells me they are a special species that only venture onto land at night. That's all fine by me, as long as they don't come too close. I've never been fond of crustaceans. Isn't that irrational? Most people are afraid of spiders or mice. At least my phobia is original.

To be honest, I wouldn't mind just going to sleep. It's been a long night. My mind is still racing, though. No matter how tired my body might be, there'll be no relief just yet. I need to talk things through with my family before that happens. It's dark in the jungle, but if I'm careful I should get back to the house just fine. We need to get this sorted. Scott will have calmed down by now -

Just my luck. I think I spoke too soon.

Thunderbird One is returning. She's a beautiful sight, the moonlight shining off the hull, her lights bright against the night sky. But that is definitely Alan piloting. He's bringing her in a touch too fast. I have no doubts about his ability to fly, but Alan loves speed. Scott is going to be agitated as hell after watching this landing. It's probably safer for me to settle in for the night and go back in the morning.

Look at that ship. She really is magnificent - one hell of a piece of engineering genius. She's switching to a vertical landing position. That was one of Brains' ideas. He is an absolute wonder. International Rescue would be nothing more than a pie in the sky if it weren't for that young man. I was certainly fortunate to find him. Though I never thought I'd be in this situation, my engineer ganging up with my sons to kick me out of my job.

I would like to say that from the prison transfer things got better. That the charges were dropped, that Penelope recovered just fine and things went back to the way they had been. That everything was completely normal. However, that would be a lie and I've participated in enough dishonesty. There's no point trying to fool myself or anyone else. I didn't handle things very well.

Nothing got better; in fact everything was almost immediately more complicated. There was no easy, miraculous escape. I heard later that the island had been searched top to bottom. Employees of the corporation were questioned and the company was frozen. Investigations began to try and link my money to International Rescue. I was confident that line of questioning wouldn't get far. We wove security so tight around the money they would never even get close to connecting the dots. They tried to go through the boys, dragging each one of them in on the drama but my sons were loyal and strong.

The media started slinging mud. For all the work that everyone put in circulating rumours to the contrary, the story was still out there that somehow International Rescue had been involved in an attempt to murder Britain's social darling, Lady Penelope. They had no evidence, thanks to Spook, but when did that ever stop the media? Every day, International Rescue supporters were rallying. I am more grateful than I can ever express to those loyal people. They saved our sanity, for there were many other demonstrators who were not so agreeable to our cause.

I don't know what Penelope went through during this time. It is something I suppose I won't ever have the chance to discuss with her. I am relieved that Parker was able to be by her side. He's a good man and I know for certain he will always watch out for her. We're not getting along so well at the moment, Parker and I. He's the type to hold a grudge, too, so I don't imagine the situation is ever going to improve. It's pathetic - one by one I'm alienating all of my friends. Even Kyrano seems to have had enough of me.

His face tonight was so disappointed. Perhaps that hurt more than I have been willing to admit. Perhaps that is one reason I became so angry. Kyrano is so calm and quiet that it is easy to forget he has emotions, too. Of course watching Tin Tin cry her heart out after receiving Penelope's news and knowing that I was the cause of it all may have had something to do with his reaction. I have never known a more gentle, devoted father.

It's an attitude I should aspire to. I love my children, and as much as I respect them - they're talented, successful men - perhaps this episode has proven that I don't always consider them as I should. There was no real reason to keep my plans from them. I think I was simply worried about their reactions. I was right that they would not understand, but I made the adjustment more difficult than it had to be.

Beating myself up about all this isn't going to help any. If the transition is going to go smoothly, I need to be more focused. I'll send the boys around to pick the equipment up from Penelope's home next week. I don't think she'd be too pleased to see me there. Parker certainly would not. We'll transport most of the communications equipment to London for Sir Jeremy. He has taken over her duties for now but I might talk to Spook about becoming a full time member of the crew. He'd enjoy that. He can work under Sir Jeremy for a while and learn the ropes. Between the two of them I think we'll have most of Penelope's work covered.

My sons might not think so, but I am going to miss her. It always brought a smile to my face when she would call to report, halfway through some harrowing rescue. Her dry wit saved my patience and sanity countless times. Penelope and I always had a very professional working relationship. As we got to know each other, we became friends. Family. She has become such an important part of our lives. I know at first the boys were just happy to have a young, beautiful woman around - one or two of them even considered romantic possibilities, but her maternal manner soon settled that problem. There was a short time when I wondered if she had her sights set on an older Tracy...that was before she directed that level, humbling gaze at me, one eyebrow slightly raised. She subtly made it clear she was off limits.

Her approach to men has always been calculated. Penelope knows she's a pretty thing and she takes advantage of it when occasion demands, using it as a tool of manipulation. For the most part she behaves like a mother hen. It discourages romantic intentions and usually pushes her into the - 'sister' category. She always said that it made her work less complicated but it's about time she found something to live for other than the job.

I know some of the details of her history, though she keeps things very private, but I can imagine why she chose her peculiar life. She doesn't talk about it and I've always thought it rude to ask. I hope this isn't too confronting for her. Heaven knows she's had enough to cope with in her young life and I've just added a considerable amount of grief to the list. What a charming man I've turned out to be. It's no wonder my family are disgusted in me.

All right, Jeff, enough. Stop moping. As much as I'd like to avoid this, the story isn't finished yet. As mother would say, humble pie may not taste very good, but it sure is good for me.

Chapter 6

Imprisonment is a depressing experience. I certainly understand why Parker dislikes it so much. For me, the place had an air of bleak hopelessness. When I happened to catch the eye of the other inmates, I felt a disturbing current of something instinctively wrong. Something vile. I knew there were men there who were guilty of terrible things. I caught myself wondering as I watched them - was he a murderer? Was he a rapist? A paedophile? I stayed aloof from the others. When they set their eyes on me I felt my skin crawl.

I spent two nights in that miserable hole. I kept my sanity while those long forty-eight hours passed because I knew I didn't belong there. I was not like those men and frankly, I had lived through worse experiences. I knew there were people working for me, finding a way to get me out. I knew that I had no reason to despair. All I had to do was wait and I am an expert at that.

I've been sitting around waiting for my boys for years. I wait for them while they work, worried and heartsick, wondering if they'll make it back safe each time. Before the rescues, I used to wait for them to come home from college and their careers, patiently expecting those brief weeks our family would be together again. I'd wait for them at the front door when they came running in from school and play as boys. I waited for tears and nightmares to ease after they lost their mother. I waited for them to arrive after nine long months spend hidden away in her belly. I am a Father. I know how to wait.

I was dozing on my bunk on the last night when I heard the distant clang of metal being struck. There were vague noises, like someone shouting from too far away. Suddenly, the punctuation of gunshots hit the air. The prisoners moved to their windows in time to see a huge explosion at the main building. Seconds later, a rumble sounded within the cell block. Thin pipes mounted high on the walls began to shake. One by one, the joins popped and flame began to pour over the walls.

"The gas lines!" someone shouted and those free of their cells began to bolt to the exit. I must have only blinked when another shattering explosion tore through the room. Heat and fire licked at the furniture, the walls, the fallen bodies. The locked doors on each cell swung wide. I sprinted to the exit. The fire was getting larger, burning up the air, filling it with black smoke, leaving nothing left for us to breathe. The heat singed our hair and skin. At the doors I saw a prison guard encouraging us to run, to get out. Closer, I saw his face. Spook. He winked and followed me out of the room. We were all bundled into an open-backed jeep, Spook got in the front passenger seat next to another guard.

The engine started and the prisoners were shouting at the driver to move when I saw something in the flames. Two men - fighting, wrestling - still inside that furnace. I cried out and tried to warn someone. The roaring flames and the sirens of approaching fire engines drowned out my voice. I watched anxiously but the jeep started to move. I called for them to wait. Surely I knew that man, fleeing the fire? He sprinted into the open, his eyes glowing and a sick grin his face. The Hood. He saw me in the back of the jeep and cried out madly, breaking into a sprint. He stumbled, two guards took him and dragged him screaming and kicking to another vehicle.

What happened to the second man? I looked back at the building as we moved further away. He must have been trapped or killed. There was no sign of anyone near that blaze. My eyes scanned the perimeter. The fire had started at the main building. Half the structure was blown away - it must have been the giant gas bottles. Scorch marks along the walls showed me where the gas carried the fire to the cell block. Suddenly, I spotted him, jogging towards an unwatched fence with a gleeful jig in his step.

"Parker!" I muttered. "Well I'll be damned."

One of the others looked at me strangely, but I didn't care. They'd done it. They'd gotten me out of prison...but for how long? The jeep stopped. Spook came around the back and began ordering everyone to prison buses waiting to relocate us.

"Come on, hurry up. You too," he commanded as if he were talking to any normal inmate. "Move it, move it!"

I followed his instructions and crammed onto the bus with the others. We ambled along the road and through a blockade of media vans. Plenty of armed guards and police officers supervised the transition to the next facility. They were not chancing any escapes. I kept my eyes out for Spook, but he had disappeared. We were driven to another prison. On a cold night, that was a very long way. Eventually we arrived, shivering and ill tempered and were shuffled into cramped cells. Orders were sharp and strict. We were to behave ourselves, silently, or there'd be hell to pay.

I spend that night sitting up on a bunk, squashed between an enormous man named Les and a nervous arsonist named Trevor. Trevor was having a very bad night. He kept flicking his fingers as if there was an imaginary cigarette lighter between them. I guess the massive blaze had been too much for his self-control. Throughout the night, guards would come and go, calling prisoners out and dragging them away for processing. My turn did not come until hours after dawn.

Spook, suddenly sporting a moustache, called me out of the cell and briskly escorted me to the interview room.

"This is just for appearances," he said quietly. "We've taken care of everything. You just have to sit in the room with me and chat for a half hour or so. You'll then be set free on a technicality and will be fine to waltz on out of here. Virgil is waiting with a car and some decent clothing outside."

"I cannot begin to thank you enough," I told him. He winked, opened the door to the tiny room and shuffled me inside. We each took a seat on opposite sides of a small metal table.

"Lady Penelope is anxious to hear from you," Spook informed me. "She's been very worried."

"Is she home yet?"

"No. There was a complication. She has to stay another forty-eight hours."

"That sounds awful."

"I'd imagine it would be, but that's the least of her problems." His face was a mask and I had the impression he was livid beneath it. We both knew the reason why.

I closed my eyes for a long moment. When I was able to talk again, my voice sounded ragged. "What happened to the Hood?"

Spook suddenly brightened. "Now there's a story. Parker and I met up with a Mr Hackenbacker shortly after your first transfer. He had with him a curious medical device he developed specifically for measuring and altering brain wave patters. It was supposed to be some sort of advanced treatment for brain damage. He told us that a shock from this device would incapacitate your enemy should he prove to be troublesome during last night's bon fire."

"I knew I saw Parker at that prison!"

"With a little help from his shady friends and yours truly, he infiltrated the premises disguised as a cleaner and located the evidence room. Unfortunately the security system was beyond even his abilities. You do know that man is one of the world's greatest safe crackers?"

"I'm aware of his talents. I believe that's why Penelope first brought him into her service."

"She's always poaching. As I was saying, there was no way he could break in to remove the necessary evidence so the resourceful man simply decided to blow it up. Some bright spark had fitted the main gas bottles to the wall right opposite the evidence room. Parker picked up a broom and started thumping the canisters. The guards were just a little trigger happy, having had such a famous prisoner arrive with his media entourage. Naturally, they took a shot at Parker, hit the canisters instead and blew the evidence room sky high. There's nothing left to convict you with."

"That's the technicality?"

"Exactly. No evidence means no trial."

"Means I'm a free man." I took a deep breath. It was nearly over. "What happened next?"

"The shut off valve malfunctioned. Completely by accident, I'm sure. The fire spread through the lines to the entire complex and blew up the reserves by the cell block. My job was to make sure you were evacuated here safely. Parker was to take care of the Hood. He found the cad strangling a policeman and attacked him with that device I told you about. He thought it was a bit of a dud because nothing happened. They fought their way into the open air and two quick thinking officers apprehended their prisoner. In a cleaner's uniform, Parker was practically ignored and he simply walked off the premises and into the night."

"So the Hood is in custody?"

"He's in hospital. Officially it seems he suffered oxygen deprivation from the smoke that resulted in severe brain damage."

"And unofficially?"

"I'm not entirely certain. Mr Hackenbacker was very reluctant to discuss it, though he tells me that while he thinks the Hood might one day come to appreciate shiny objects and pretty coloured strings, we shouldn't hold on to hope."

"Amazing."

"Well, we did try."

"And so now I can just go?"

"All you have to do is sign out."

I stood and leaned over to shake Spook's hand. I was lost for words. I wanted to thank him, to tell him how much I owed him, but he just grinned at me.

"I understand, Mr. Tracy. It was my pleasure. Now I believe your son is waiting for you?" I returned his smile and strode out of that room and straight to the administration desk. Fifteen minutes of paperwork and warnings later, I met Virgil in the main foyer and received the warmest welcome from him in my life.

"Father," he said. His face was the same, unbroken calm as always and it reassured me that he was so steady amid the turmoil. After a moment though, he broke into a wide grin and put his arms around me. I hadn't hugged any of my sons in a long time.

I clapped his shoulders and he broke away before it could become awkward, passing me a bag of clothing. I used the bathroom to dress hurriedly, tossing the prison uniform to an officer on my way out. With Virgil at my side, I strode out of the office and into the free, fresh air, not even caring that it was perhaps the most depressingly grey morning I had seen in a long time.

"I think we should get out of here," Virgil commented while I took deep breaths.

"Hell yes," I declared.

He laughed and led the way to the car he had rented. A few reporters ventured to come close but Virgil's stormy glare actually seemed to make them nervous. He stretched out his arm to pass me the keys.

"No, you drive," I requested. He looked at me, surprised, then slid behind the wheel. "Besides, we're insured, right?" I joked as he started the motor.

"Alan is the rev head."

"True. What happened to FAB 1?"

"John radioed in just before we got to the mansion. A man who was definitely not Parker had called the police so we circled back. John monitored the police frequencies and told us that something had happened to Lady Penelope and you were being arrested. Gordon took Thunderbird Two and we got out so we could follow the ambulance and keep an eye on you. We had to break into the garage. The doors wouldn't open so Alan backed through them." Virgil revved the engine threateningly at an overzealous cameraman.

"Parker is going to kill you both," I told him. I wasn't so sure I was exaggerating but Virgil only smiled.

"None of the other cars are bullet proof. She might have got some scratches but at least she's in one piece." I shook my head and suggested we get moving.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked. I thought for a moment.

"I want to see the Hood. Then we'll head to Foxleyheath. I should take care of a few things there."

"Penelope will be glad to see you."

I didn't answer him. I wasn't so sure I wanted to face her just then. Virgil glanced at me and suddenly found something very important to stare at on the road ahead.

"You know Father, it wasn't your fault," he said quietly.

"It sure feels like it is," I confessed. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the seat. On the road now, Virgil smoothly shifted gears and sped up.

"Did they tell you what happened to him?" he asked.

I let out a contemptuous snort. "Yes. I couldn't think of a better outcome for that..."

"Scum bag?"

"That'll do. Scum bag."

"Gordon thinks we should send him a toy Thunderbird. Really screw him up."

I gave my son a half smile. "I'd rather let him rot."

"No argument here," he said. "I know you're tired, but Scott would like you to call." He slipped his watch off his wrist and passed it to me. I immediately dialled home.

"Virgil?" a sharp voice answered after only half a second and suddenly my anxious Scott was in view, his brow tense. His eyes widened when he recognised me and a grin broke out on his face.

"Father! Guys, get over here! Are you all right? Did everything work?"

"Perfectly. Well done, son."

"I'm just glad you're out. Are you coming home?"

"I need to stay for a day or so and wrap things up."

"Of course. We can discuss that later though; the others all want to speak to you." Suddenly, I was looking at Alan.

"Hello, Father."

"Alan, it is good to see you," I said truthfully.

"You should come home soon. Scott is getting too comfortable in your chair." I barked a laugh.

"Is he now?"

"It's a good thing I have the rest of you to keep me in my place," Scott mumbled in the background.

"Isn't it?" Alan replied with mock generosity. He looked at me and nodded.

"Gordon's turn. You take care, Dad." He moved aside to allow Gordon into view. His red hair was tousled and he looked like he could use a decent sleep.

"Hello, Father. We've missed you. Nice beard." I ran a hand over the thick stubble on my face. It was suddenly itchy.

"I'll have to do something about that." He looked at me, head tilted slightly to one side.

"You're okay, Dad," he said. I don't know if he was asking, or reassuring one or both of us, but his concern was touching. My hand twitched, and I wanted to reach out and ruffle his hair like I used to do when he was much younger.

"I am. Thank you, son." Something like relief flashed in his eyes and he nodded, satisfied enough to offer me a small smile.

"Good. I'll talk to you later - it's John's turn."

John looked as exhausted as the others, but he carried it well. "Alan's right, you need to come home soon," he said, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Gordon hasn't thrown a prank in days. I'm tempted to have Brains examine him to make sure he's not sick."

"You mean we've finally found a way to stop him causing havoc? And I only had to get arrested to do it. Hmm. How are things?"

"Better now we know you're free." He gave me his peculiar half smile.

"Can you hold down the fort a little longer?" I asked.

"We'll manage. The company is a mess, but I've been taking care of that as best I can. It'll be a few months, but we'll recover."

"Thank you, John. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. Why don't you get some rest? You sound tired."

"I am. I'll call you all again soon. And John...send my regards to Kyrano, and Tin Tin of course."

"They're right here, Father." He paused, and smiled again. "They say to send theirs right back." After another short goodbye, I disconnected, my heart finally beating like normal. It was almost over.

When Virgil woke me, we were stopped in a parking lot. I'd dozed off and it took a few seconds for my mind to tear itself away from thick sleep. I looked around at the unfamiliar brick buildings and noticed someone walking fast towards us, his glasses bouncing on his nose. He waved and grinned. Virgil and I stepped out of the car and Brains met me with a firm handshake. He tried to greet us. He opened his mouth to speak but his excited stammer made it impossible to understand a word he said. Eventually he just sighed and clapped my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. I understood.

"It's good to see you too," I told him. He nodded.

I looked up the tall hospital building, my eyes settling on the top floor. Even seven stories high, the windows were barred. It was the maximum security wing. That was where I intended to go. The Hood was there and I wanted to know his fate for myself. I needed to see him reduced, defeated. I wanted to see him in pathetic misery. Watch him suffer for the suffering he had caused for so many. It was a shallow and callous desire but revenge is hardly an honourable cause.

Brains led us into the building and I asked him to take me straight to the Hood. As we passed each floor in the elevator, I could feel something dark and burning tightening my chest. I don't know if it was hate, or anger, but it was vile. As we neared the fourth floor, Brains' fingers hesitated over the stop button; Virgil shook his head and we kept going up. That must have been where Penelope was staying. The thought of her attacker, three floors above her hospital bed made me instantly furious. I bit my tongue to keep from spitting his evil name. I had a sharp thought that if that repulsive man was not suffering enough I would make sure of it, with my bare hands if necessary.

The elevator beeped and stopped. The doors slid apart and I entered the room with dangerous thoughts coursing through my mind. Leaving Virgil in the waiting room, Brains and I passed through security scanners and into the wing. Our steps echoed in vacant green halls. There were rows of empty rooms either side of us and the air smelled of antibacterial wash. We rounded a corner and I saw two police guards outside an open door.

"This is it," Brains said. He held up his pass and one of the officers nodded. A nurse came out of the room and glanced at us before walking away brusquely. Brains entered before me and I followed, each step slow and deliberate, my hands restrained in fists at my sides.

He was hunched over, sitting in a wheel chair facing a barred window. His massive frame was limp, his bald head hung to the left as if he was staring at an upside down picture, trying to make sense of it. I bit my tongue to remain silent and tasted blood.

"Gaat?" Brains asked loudly. "Can you hear me?"

The man made no response. I took a careful step closer. It could be a trick, I told myself. My mind kept repeating warnings - this man is devious and sinister. I came closer again. I could feel the tightness spreading from my chest to my entire body. I would be ready to fight. I took one more step. Brains watched me approach and when he nodded, I moved around the chair to face my enemy.

Belah Gaat did not so much as blink. Catatonic eyes were fixed ahead. His bottom lip drooped and drool pooled over the edge. I moved and my shadow flickered over his face but his eyes remained the same.

"Look at me!" I commanded. The body did not move. I barked my order again and again there was no reaction. The darkest of emotions, the rage and frustration of years of fighting that monster all roared inside me. I couldn't breathe for loathing. With a twisted growl, I struck out, my hand smacking his face, snapping his useless head back against the chair. It flopped forward again, those blank eyes never moving.

It was not my finest moment.

The malice in me began to dissolve. He was gone. I felt Brains place his hand on my arm, reassuring, and he came to stand beside me.

"The device was experimental. I underestimated the effects. It was merely meant to shut down the neural pathways that allowed him to use his powers so he could be apprehended and tried fairly. The reaction cascaded beyond anything I could have foreseen."

I swallowed, hard, not trusting myself to speak. What could I say? I was glad Brains had screwed up on this one? That I was happy a man was reduced to a vegetable for my sake?

"Spook saw to it that I was able to supervise all the tests and procedures. I'm certain. The Hood won't be back, Mr. Tracy."

I stared at the slack face of my once proud and treacherous enemy and felt a surge of distasteful pity. It occurred to me that it was probably the ultimate revenge for a man who had once induced so much fear. His power was rooted in terror and there was nothing left of him to be afraid of. I silently imagined that somewhere deep inside that wretched shell Belah Gaat was still there, aware on some infinitesimal level that I had won, that he was nothing to me anymore - not even a smoky rumour of threat. In the darkest places of my soul, I hoped he would be howling in frustration and misery for eternity.

"Mr. Tracy?"

I looked at Brains as he pushed his glasses up his nose and regarded me uncertainly. I paused and glanced back. I was satisfied.

"Let's go, Brains."

He gave me a more confident smile and we turned our backs to the Hood for the last time. It was done. Time to go see Penelope.

Chapter 7

I stood outside Penelope's room, prepared to tell her that everything was over with, that the Hood was gone and she was safe again. I was about to knock when the door opened and Parker appeared. Even surprise at nearly running into me couldn't cut through the worry on his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.

"She didn't 'ave a good night so the Doc gave her somethin' to make her sleep. She'll be out for a few hours," he said quietly before moving to talk to the others. He neglected to shut the door properly. I reached for the handle and glanced inside. It was dark except for the gentle glow of a bedside lamp. Penelope was curled up on her side, hugging herself tight. Her eyes were shut. A tear caught the light and sparkled, hanging on her eyelashes. I froze. I'd seen Penelope shot at, run down, hurt and even frightened, but not once had I seen her cry.

There was only the one tear. Her breathing slowed as the drugs pulled her into a chemical sleep and slowly the hands that clutched her arms relaxed. I closed the door and realised my lungs were beginning to ache for air. I filled them, feeling shaky and unsure. I glanced at Parker and his face seemed more lined than before. He looked up and caught my eye and I moved to hear what he was saying to Brains and Virgil.

"The antibiotics are working and that fever's gone," he reported. "Though she's none too 'appy about bein' made to stay in bed."

"The sleep is good for her, Parker," Brains assured him.

"I should prob'ly head back to Foxleyheath and make sure the place is all spick for when she comes home." Parker glanced regretfully at Penelope's door and without thinking I interrupted.

"I'll take care of it. You should stay with Lady Penelope."

He raised his bushy eyebrows and thanked me. "Lil's gone to her family so there won't be anyone home. That bloody phone will probably be ringing off the hook."

"I'll take care of it," I promised.

"Me too," Virgil volunteered. While I am sure he wanted to help for Penelope's sake, I was also certain his willingness had something to do with keeping an eye on me. Brains elected to stay at the hospital to monitor Penelope and the Hood. A jet was sitting on the tarmac at Heathrow, the parking metre ticking away until we were ready to return to Tracy Island. With a final glance at Penelope's door, Virgil and I left our friends to their loyal vigil and drove to Foxleyheath.

I slept again, catching enough rest to fuel me for several difficult hours ahead. The mansion was a mess when we arrived. We had to pull down police tape to get in the door and we were shocked at the amount of dirt and mud the investigators had tracked through the foyer. Penelope would not have approved at all. I sent Virgil to find a mop while I walked over the ground floor. We would not have her home looking like a crime scene.

Unconsciously I arrived at the doors to the ballroom. The first thing I noticed was the smeared puddle of blood on the floor where Penelope had collapsed. The smell was hideous - the mess had congealed. My stomach lurched and I had to walk away. I was suddenly determined that Penelope should not have to see any evidence of what happened. I strode purposefully to the laundry and found a bucket, rags, and a bottle of disinfectant. I pulled on rubber gloves and filled the bucket with hot, soapy water. I would clean it up myself.

I think Virgil may have seen me at one point, on my hands and knees scrubbing away all traces of the terrifying ordeal. He didn't say anything and left me alone. With each swipe of the rag, I again saw Penelope's face as that knife went through her body. Heard her tortured gasp by my ear. Felt hot blood over my fingers. I could see it dripping onto the marble in glistening patterns and I realised they were my own shameful tears. It was as though I had run through one of my own family. I finished mopping up that sickening mess and ripped the gloves from my hands, hurling them into the bucket. I straightened the room, put away the table and the Hood's other stage props. I vowed I would find a way to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

I asked Virgil to take care of things downstairs and I began to check each of the rooms above, resetting toppled furniture and straightening the paintings on the walls. Soon all but one section was as pristine as always. I hesitated at the wide doors. This was Penelope's private suite. Her study lay beyond me, the scene of my struggle with the Hood and my arrest. A second set of double doors would take me into her bedroom and bathroom. I was not sure if I wanted to know what was hidden there. But more than that, I did not want Penelope to see. I took a deep breath and entered.

The first room was in shambles. Broken glass and books littered the floor. Debris crunched under my feet as I stepped across the room. The doors to Penelope's bedroom were open and cautiously I slipped through them. The space beyond was bright and feminine. Very Penelope. The atmosphere should have been inviting and warm but a cold chill ran over my skin. Something was not right.

There it was, on the floor near a mirrored dresser. A pile of clothing. A jewellery box left open and disarrayed on top of them. On the dresser, small makeup pots were scattered everywhere, spilled powders and liquids swirled together. A swipe of pink across the mirror looked like lipstick. A vase and shrivelled, dead roses had been knocked onto the carpet. This was where she fought him.

A trail of pink dust on the white carpet led me towards the other end of the room. There were two drops of dried blood. A chair in pieces, far away from the dresser it matched. Three fist sized holes in the wall. Penelope's bed - the covers twisted and rumpled. A smear of blood and a damning stain on the sheet that I could not bear to look at. I hurriedly stripped the bed and wrapped the linens in a tight bundle. Why the police hadn't taken them, I didn't know, but I was getting rid of everything before Penelope came home.

I tided the room as best I could, adding the pile of discarded clothing to the bed linen. A quick phone call meant a handyman was on his way to patch the wall. I also phoned for fresh flowers, feeling that there should be something for her other than those decayed roses. With care, I arranged her dresser so it was once again neat. There was nothing more I could do and so I carried the mess away and shut the doors.

Virgil helped me order the chaos in the office. We carted boxes of glass, paper and broken equipment away. I frowned when I picked up Penelope's teapot, the one that contained a hidden communication beacon. It had been buckled and dented into uselessness and the lid was crushed. Had she tried to signal me with it first? I threw it into the junk box. There would be no more need for emergency calls.

When the house was clean, the wall was fixed and everything looked normal, I dragged myself to one of the guest rooms to rest. I suggested that Virgil do the same. I needed a shower, food and sleep but my body was not craving them in that order. I left my boots at the door and stripped off my shirt, tossing it on the floor. That bed was calling me and I sank into it. I was asleep before I hit the pillows.

The next morning after a shower, shave and decent breakfast, I called home to check in. I was expecting Scott but it was John who answered. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was very serious.

"Everything all right?" I asked and he gave me a nod.

"Fine, we're just tired. I sent Scott off to bed an hour ago. He was starting to see imaginary creatures crawling over the walls. I'm glad you called though. There's a flood in Bangladesh. It looks like it could escalate into disastrous proportions in the next twelve hours. Is International Rescue available for response?"

"I take it there's no one watching?" I asked, thinking of the warrants the police obtained to search Tracy Island.

"They stopped harassing us when you were released but there has been a little more local activity than usual. I think it's just curiosity. No one has gotten close enough to cause concern."

"And at the office?"

"The media have found someone else to annoy but if we launch they're bound to start sniffing again. It'll die off eventually, but then we can always send Penelope after them," he said with a wan smile.

My mind was struck with sudden apprehension. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea," I mumbled more to myself than to John. He raised his brow.

"Not yet, of course, but if I know Penelope she'll be eager to get back to work within a week."

I think I made some absent noise and John changed the subject. We agreed that it was safe to resume operations and we disconnected shortly after reaching that conclusion. John could probably tell I was distracted. His words caused me a great deal of concern. We could always send Penelope out to chase the bad guys...but should we? The question repeated over in my mind, floating next to the memory of Penelope's single tear, the knife, the sheets...all of it, and suddenly, I knew what I had to do.

The matter was settled, at least from a logistical point of view, with a single call. I dialled the videophone and waited for an answer. A blurry white image appeared, focusing in as the sleeve of a lab coat.

"Yes? Oh, do put that down Mr Plummer. Pardon? Hello?"

"Sir Jeremy," I greeted the man as his confused face came into view.

"Tracy! How are you?" He looked over his shoulder and waved. "Yes, on the desk, that's fine. Go busy yourself in the lab."

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, just sending my assistant off. What can I do for you old son?" He sat in front of the screen and leaned back in his chair.

"I assume you've heard about Penelope's condition?" I asked. His face became serious.

"Parker informed me. How is she?"

"Not so good. There's been a complication."

"I suppose she's been marching about the hospital, demanding to be released?" If only, I thought but Sir Jeremy continued on. "I'm going to have a stern word to that young lady. How can I help?"

"Penelope is going to be out of action for a while," I said, convinced it wasn't quite a lie. "I'd like you to take over as coordinating agent." He blinked in surprise.

"Of course. How long?"

I took a steadying breath. "At this stage, indefinitely."

"Good grief, man! She's that bad? I had no idea!" I steered Sir Jeremy's mind back to business before his concern could run away from me.

"I'll send all the necessary information and security codes through once I'm back on the island."

"Wouldn't it be easier if I just talked to Penelope?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep this quiet for the time being."

"Ah...I understand. Stubborn, isn't she?"

I even managed a convincing chuckle. "Like a mule." At least that part was true. We'd both been on the receiving end of her tenacity.

I ended the conversation and allowed myself a troubled sigh. There was no going back now. There was only one way to keep Penelope safe from our enemies and that was to keep her safe from me. I raised my arms above my head and tried to stretch away the tension. My muscles strained and cracked. I just wanted to go home. I wanted for none of the craziness to have happened. That was a vain wish. Penelope would be home the next day and I had to be ready to confront her. There would be arguments, I knew. For all her grace, Penelope knows how to fight dirty. She would object strenuously to my request but her safety and well being demand a better life than we can offer her.

I convinced myself over the next twenty-four hours that my resolution was absolute. I was certain that I was stable and prepared when Virgil knocked on my door to announce the Parker and Penelope were home. I nodded and walked to the front entrance. When I arrived, Virgil was carrying two bags while Parker helped Penelope from the car. She moved cautiously as if testing the unfamiliar. Her face was still white and she leaned heavily on Parker's arm. There were only six or seven stairs leading up to the entrance and Penelope stopped halfway.

"I just need a moment," she said defensively. She shut her eyes and I could tell she was unsteady. I immediately moved towards them. Before I said anything, I reached out and placed my hand on Penelope's arm to offer my support. I was horrified to feel her jerk away from me. Her eyes flew open from fright or shock though it only took a heartbeat and their usual warmth returned. She took my hands and smiled.

"Jeff! I didn't know you were here!"

"Virgil didn't tell you?"

She released me and smiled, glancing back at my grinning son. "No, the sly thing. How are you? I was so worried!" I choked. She'd been worried about me, when I'd driven a knife into her body? And I was about to fire her. Inwardly, I groaned.

"Come on, m'lady, we must be getting you inside," Parker interrupted and pushed her towards the entrance. Penelope looked to the heavens in mock exasperation.

"Honestly, he frets so," she told me. I offered her my arm and with Parker by her other side, we directed her indoors. She tired quickly and chose to settle on the ground floor rather than attempt to climb the stairs to her own room.

"Tea, m'lady?" Parker offered when she was comfortably reclining in a soft chair. She smiled at him and he left us, giving me a questioning look as he passed. I suppose my face showed more nerves than I had thought. I did my best to correct it and he nodded.

"Come along son, make yourself useful," he said and dragged my protesting Virgil away.

Penelope laughed at the display. "He really is a charming young man," she said conversationally. "I must say, I am glad to be home. There is something inherently depressing about the smell of disinfectant."

"Keeps the germs away," I replied rather stupidly. I think I was starting to sweat.

"True," she continued as if she hadn't noticed my unusual manner. "Though I wonder why it must always reek of pine cones?"

"Mountain fresh?" I took a seat on a couch opposite her and took a great interest in the pattern of the upholstery. There was a coffee table between us but not enough distance. I crossed one leg over the other, trying to make it look casual. Penelope continued to move the conversation along.

"No mountain I ever stood on smelled like a hospital. Although there was that one time in Switzerland when my friend drank too much and the altitude got to her...oh dear. I'm rambling."

I glanced at her face and couldn't help but smile. She gave me a look and a silent exchange passed between us. If it were audible, it would have sounded something like 'You're trying to make me feel better' - 'I know' - 'Stop it.'

"It's a start," was all she said. There was a teasing sparkle in her eye. I swear sometimes Penelope likes nothing better than to torment people. Me, Parker, the boys...every man in her life is fair game. My response was punctuated with a self-conscious cough.

"How long will your recovery take?" I asked, looking back at the couch fabric.

"Around six weeks, though I've been told that 'normal' won't come for a while. My local GP has kindly offered to drop by and check on me from time to time."

I nodded. She would have lost a lot of blood and even if she'd had transfusions, I knew she would feel weak for a long time yet. Guilt struck me sharply and the feel of the knife flashed across my hand. My fingers jerked into a fist to keep from shaking. I had to say it right then, before I lost the nerve.

"Are you all right, Jeff?" Penelope asked softly. I looked up at her.

"Fine," I lied. She raised an eyebrow.

"You've barely looked me in the eye since I got here, let alone spoken more than half a sentence at a time. What's wrong?"

I swallowed hard and regarded her too pale face. I opened my mouth to tell her my decision but I couldn't come up with any words. I floundered. "I've been thinking..." No, that's not going to work. "I think it's better..." No, that makes me sound too pleading. "Look, Penelope -"

Her expression turned subtlety stern. "You know this wasn't your fault," she said bluntly.

I think I convinced myself I was angry at that point to avoid more piercing emotions. I ran my fingers through my hair and sat back roughly. "I can't do this," I mumbled.

"Do what?" Penelope asked. Her eyes were focused sharply on my face. I shook my head and stood abruptly to leave. "Jeff?" Her head tilted to one side and her left eyebrow arched severely. I sighed.

"Just concentrate on getting better, Lady Penelope," I said and escaped, striding out of the room leaving her in stunned silence. It wouldn't last long.

"Virgil! Get your things. We've had a call," I shouted down the hall. The lies were tumbling out of my mouth too easily. Virgil and Parker appeared with a tea trolley.

"Jeff Tracy!" a determined voice called. I looked over my shoulder and saw a puzzled and somewhat annoyed Penelope leaning against the wall. Parker abandoned the trolley and hurried to her side. She waved him off crossly.

"This gentleman and I need to have a few words," she said, her eyes boring straight into mine. I'd offended her. It was too late to make amends now.

"Time to go Virgil," I reminded him and walked purposefully to the front door. He hesitated and began to say something to Parker. I left him to decide if he'd fall in or stay behind. By the time I was in the car, engine revving, he'd made his choice and came jogging towards me.

"Parker called you a coward," Virgil muttered as he slammed the door. I took off down the drive and swerved onto the road. He was right. We drove to the airport in silence, stopping once to refuel and call Brains to have him ready the jet. My agenda was still unsatisfied but I couldn't ask Penelope to leave. I'd have to convince her by other means, none of them particularly pleasant. I'd just made the task a hundred times more difficult for all of us.

Chapter 8

My ribs received quite a battering when I finally arrived home. The boys came running as soon as the jet taxied to a stop. I was on the ground and engulfed by enthusiastic back clapping and cheers and hugs. I felt on top of the world, home with my family, and finally, safe. We ambled away from the plane in a pack and I smiled when I saw my friends hanging back, waiting to greet me. Kyrano came out of the shadows and reached for the bag I was carrying. I took his hand and shook it warmly instead.

"Welcome home, Mr. Tracy," he said in his peaceful voice.

"Thank you, Kyrano. It sure feels good to be back." When I relinquished his hand, he reached for the bag once more.

"Really, it's fine," I said but he shook his head and gestured to the shade from where Tin Tin was waving. She caught my eye and smiled, guiding another figure out into the sun.

"Well, I'll be...Mother! What on earth?" I jogged over and gave her aged, smiling face a kiss.

"You didn't expect Kyrano to have to fix your homecoming dinner alone, did you?" she said stubbornly, as if she needed an excuse to visit. I chuckled and kissed her again, offering my arm.

"How are you, dear?" she asked.

"I've been better. Thank you for coming. It's wonderful to see you."

"You're welcome, love. Now let an old lady get back inside would you? They turn the sun up around here. It's going to ruin my girlish complexion."

I laughed again, enjoying the much-missed levity and looked over my shoulder at Virgil and Scott, still leaning on the body of the jet and talking.

"Coming boys?"

Scott looked up and smiled. "Yeah. Come on, Virge." They ambled along, joking and laughing. Their easy manner made me confident that Virgil would keep the events at Penelope's to himself. We herded into the house. Back in the shade, Mother bullied Brains into bending over so she could reach his cheeks and she kissed each one in greeting. She has always been fond of our shy genius.

"So when are Lady Penelope and Mr. Parker coming?" she asked as we entered the house.

"Oh yes, I should love to see Penelope, it's been so long," Tin Tin added enthusiastically. Her father seemed to be having a mild coughing fit, probably induced by the polite 'Mr.' attached to Parker.

"Lady Penelope is still unfit to travel," I said, making excuses. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Virgil frown.

"Maybe in a few weeks," he said to a now worried Tin Tin. "She has lots of stiches."

"Poor thing," Tin Tin said.

"Yeah," Virgil replied and glanced at me. There was a bold accusation in his eyes.

"Perhaps I should go and stay with her for a while. Keep her company while she recovers," Tin Tin suggested.

"That sounds great. Why don't you talk to her about it later? Sir Jeremy is still in France and I think it would be nice for Penelope to have a friend close by," Virgil replied. He didn't have to glance at me that time. I got his message loud and clear. Sadly, I ignored it.

My family led me straight to the lounge and with a ceremonial, florid bow, Gordon presented me to my desk. Scott held the chair for me. With a smile, I took the familiar seat, feeling my body ease into old leather creases. I closed my eyes and for a moment, it was as if nothing had happened.

"Welcome home, Father," Scott said. I looked up and saw him grinning. "International Rescue just isn't the same without you."

"I'm just glad International Rescue is still operating," I confessed. An alarm interrupted the reunion and I tensed. John moved to a monitor and began analysing a stream of data.

"Unbelievable," Virgil murmured, taking a pre-emptive seat on the couch.

"Thunderbird Five is on auto," Scott said for my information. John turned to us and nodded.

"Sorry to break up the party, everyone. It's not Bangladesh. One of those old coal burning power stations in India has gone up in flames and they need some help. The local authorities are too busy fighting over who caused the fire to bother removing the workers. We need to get there, fast."

"All right then. Scott?" I looked up to see him gripping the lamps, ready to load into Thunderbird One.

"Good to go, Father."

"Get moving then. Why don't you go with him, John? Virgil, you'll need the Firefly. Be sure to take proper breathing apparatus. There's going to be a lot of coal dust in the air."

"Yes, sir." Gordon and Alan joined him.

"Thunderbirds are go," I said, the familiar words rolling of my tongue confidently. Gordon grinned and gave me a salute. His smile stayed in place until the couch disappeared into the floor.

"Isn't that clever?" Mother remarked, blinking. Tin Tin began to explain how it worked and Mother walked to the edge, peering over then jumping back as the second couch slid into place.

I smiled and turned my attention to Brains who took over monitoring Thunderbird Five's information feed. After days of confusion and chaos, I finally felt in control again. Command was familiar. It focussed my mind on immediate tasks. It may have only lasted a few hours and I knew my assurance came at great cost to others but from it I took what confidence I could. I would need all the strength I had to withstand the little blonde storm that was brewing back in Foxleyheath.

She called in once a week during her recovery to chat and keep updated. I managed to palm her off to the boys most of the time. On the occasions she caught me alone, my manner was calculatedly brusque, bordering on rude. I was counting down to my final goal, waiting for her to put the mismatching clues together and come up with the wrong conclusion. I had to make her believe there was nothing for her at International Rescue. If she made the choice to leave then some part of my brain would be convinced that I was justified.

Weeks passed. Alan took a month long shift on Thunderbird Five. Virgil broke two fingers holding the hand of a labouring first-time mother during a rescue. Kyrano observed that I developed a habit of fidgeting at my desk - clicking my pen, tapping my fingers, that sort of thing. I never even noticed. Eventually, Penelope was declared fit and healthy to return to work. I did not encourage her.

I spread assignments out on other agents where I could and left the rest to Sir Jeremy. It was clear from the news and the papers that we were back in full operation. Penelope would make contact and ask about the rescues, nothing unusual, except I was doing everything I could to keep her out of the loop. To make her feel she was not needed.

How many conversations did I excuse myself from? I would answer her calls, pass them on to someone else and wind them up as soon as she started asking about work. Penelope quickly grew tired of it. One morning she caught me early, just as I was getting out of the shower. No one else was awake. Sneaky. I grumbled and answered the incessant beeping of the videophone.

"Yes?" I began, gruffly. She was poised, holding herself tall with the aristocratic air I know she has always worn for strangers. That made me instantly uneasy.

"Good morning, Jeff," Penelope greeted me. "How are things?"

"Fine."

"Wonderful. Well, I'm just reporting in. I have nothing at all to note. Exactly like last week...and the week before. Of course, the week before that was rather dull, too. Things must be quiet at Tracy Island."

"We keep ourselves occupied."

"I admit I've had more time to socialise but the constant small talk becomes tiresome. You haven't given me an assignment in months. I'm beginning to feel neglected."

I held my breath and constructed a reply that would intentionally sting. "There's been nothing to bother you with. The other agents are handling everything."

She blinked twice. "The other agents?" she asked, her courteous tone become strained. "That's not really necessary, Jeff."

"Oh, I think it is."

Penelope jerked back and though her expression was frozen, a flash of doubt hit her eyes. The wheels started turning and I knew she was considering all possible meanings of that tiny statement. I took the opportunity to escape and fabricated a reason to hang up. After that call, she started sending her blank reports through Thunderbird Five.

The final straw came in the form of a rescue. John wasted no time on pleasantries when he called to report. There had been an accident in one of the tunnels under London, of all places. Dozens of vehicles were trapped in the motorway section under the Thames where the pressure of the water combined with the weakened structure was threatening to implode the tunnel. I sounded the alarm to wake the household. It was a major operation and all hands were needed - including Tin Tin and Brains. Having an engineer and a scientist on the ground would make a huge difference to our rescue efforts. As they blearily entered the lounge, I silently cursed the ill timing. With Lady Penelope only a stone's throw away, London was the last place I wanted International Rescue to be.

Twelve hours later, tired and stressed, we had saved the day again and were wrapping things up when another call came through, straight to Tracy Island. I was surprised to see that it was Penelope's portrait blinking at me. With a groan, I activated the screen. I guessed from the background that Penelope was in the back of FAB 1 and she looked very, very angry.

"Jeff, how are you?" she asked. For all their smooth delivery, the words had a hard edge.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, deliberately sounding impatient.

"Oh, I've been out and about most of the day and I just saw the most extraordinary thing. Did you know that there has been something of a disaster in the motorway that runs under the Thames?"

"Yes," I replied shortly, gathering myself for a fight. Her voice dripped sour honey.

"Silly me, of course you do! That's right, I remember now. There are two giant Thunderbirds parked on the bridge backing up traffic for miles. I've missed my tea appointment with the Duchess of Royston!"

Mentally, I kicked myself. "I'm sorry you were inconvenienced," I said coldly.

"How kind." Her eyes were flinty. "However, my afternoon hasn't been spoiled entirely. I just ran into an old friend of mine. I'm sure you remember Sir Jeremy Hodge?"

"Of course." I was suddenly nervous. What did Sir Jeremy say? Penelope dropped her wrist and laughed gaily, laying the act on thick.

"Imagine my surprise when I found the poor dear floundering about trying to control the voracious media pack clambering to get pictures of International Rescue's fleet! Honestly. Sir Jeremy was crying out 'stop behaving like brutes, we're British, have some dignity' and those rude people just walked right over him. Of course I stepped in. I was hardly about to see one of my closest friends taken down by a hoard of rabid journalists. You won't believe what he told me next."

"I'm sure," I said dryly, dreading what she would tell me in that sing-song voice.

"He whispered 'Penelope, darling, I don't know how you do this job, but I'll be happy for both our sakes when Tracy convinces you to go back to International Rescue.' What was he talking about, Jeff?"

"There must have been a miscommunication along the way," I said, pulling the excuse out of the air. I watched her take a deep breath.

"You gave him my job and you lied to us," she accused.

"It was necessary."

Penelope was stung and all her practiced acting could not hide it. "When were you planning on discussing it with me?" she demanded.

I shrugged. "Eventually."

"Eventually!" Penelope was rapidly losing her cool.

"Is there anything else?" I asked with a forced, bland tone. Her eyes narrowed and inwardly, I cringed. I'd hurt her, deeply.

"No. Have a nice day," she said icily and the screen immediately turned to black.

I leaned forward in the seat, resting my head in my hands. I should have said something months ago when she came home from hospital.

"Command from Thunderbird One." I looked up at Scott's portrait to find him sitting in the cockpit of Thunderbird One, straps unbuckled and leaning lethargically into the seat.

"Go ahead," I said, not able to keep to fatigue out of my voice.

"Mobile Control is packed away," Scott reported. "The others are almost done securing the equipment. Another ten minutes or so and we'll be ready to leave. We're going to convoy home; we're all pretty tired and we figure that will help keep us awake."

"Sure," I replied.

He looked at me quizzically. "Are you okay?"

"Ah...I'm fine. Like you said, just tired. It's been a long day. Let me know when you take off. I'll get a hot meal organised for your return. Command out."

There was perfect, blessed silence for a moment, then Kyrano entered the room. "The rescue was successful, Mr. Tracy?" he asked.

"Looks like it."

"That is good news."

"It is. Can I do something for you, Kyrano?"

"No. I just wanted to be sure that Tin Tin is safe."

"Oh, of course. She's fine."

He looked at me with the same expression that Scott's face had shown only moments before, then nodded once and left.

It was several hours before I saw him again. The night had come to find me feeling lousy. I was tired and my shoulders and neck ached with tension. I was doing my best to avoid the others by hiding in my room like a sullen adolescent, until Kyrano came by with a tray of food. I accepted it and he entered my room, setting the tray on my desk. At the door he stopped for a moment and regarded my face sadly.

"What would dishonour even the most noble character?" he asked quietly. He shut the door softly and left me alone to gape at his boldness. I tried, but could not eat after that. I moved to the mirror and stared at my reflection. There were too many new lines and dark circles. I regarded the face in the mirror and sighed, reaching to the wall to switch off the light. I didn't want to see that man.

My computer beeped an alert for incoming mail and I was momentarily grateful for the distraction - that was until I read the message. It was from Penelope. As I scanned the subject line over again, my stomach knotted.

Re: Resignation.

I clicked on the email and carefully studied the contents.

My Dear Jeff,

I know things have been difficult of late and you have made your sentiments fairly clear so I am going to make life easier for you. I have been offered a position with the Federal Agents Bureau and I intend to accept it.

The last few years working with International Rescue have been the most exhilarating of my life. You and your family are amazing. I have been privileged to work with such fine men, but I think we both feel that it's time I left.

Please send my love to the boys and let them know how much I will miss them.

Be assured that you will always command my secrecy with regards to International Rescue. Please contact Parker as soon as it is convenient to arrange transportation of the IR equipment we have stored. He will take care of everything, as you will be unable to contact me for several months due to the nature of my new employment.

I wish so many things for you, Jeff, but most of all, please, be happy.

Yours always,

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back in my seat. It was done. It was the result I'd been pushing for but the sudden finality stung more than I'd expected. I knew I had been harsh with Penelope and I was sorry for it. I'd blown the opportunity to finish things civilly far too early, but I had my justification. Penelope might have been hurt and offended, but at least she was alive.

I was jolted out of my thoughts when the lights brightened and my chair was whipped around until I faced a clearly angry Scott. In one fist he clenched a crumpled piece of paper. The other was restrained at his side; a matter of sheer will I judged, seeing the veins bulging under his skin.

"What did you do?" he demanded from behind his teeth.

Slowly, I rose from the chair. "Did Penelope write to you too?" I asked carefully. A muscle in Scott's jaw twitched.

"No. She wrote to Tin Tin, who has been sobbing her heart out for the last half hour."

Why did it have to be so damned complicated? I covered my eyes with one hand. My attempt at an explanation didn't get beyond 'I'm sorry'.

"You're sorry?" He sneered and shook his head. I bristled at his tone and felt a hot temper rise.

"Just let it be," I snapped and turned away from him.

"Stop it, Father." I spun around. Virgil had joined the fight.

"Excuse me?" I questioned, standing stiffly.

"You heard me."

"Boys, I think you need to leave before you say something you'll regret."

"And what about you, huh Dad? Do you regret this?" Gordon appeared from behind his brothers and took the piece of paper from Scott's hand, tossing it onto my desk.

"Read it." Scott commanded. I regarded him icily. He returned my glare with something akin to contempt. He snatched the letter and handed it to Virgil who read a passage out loud, his musician's voice expertly tuned to the emotion in Penelope's words.

I'm sorry. I don't want to leave you all but it hurts too much to stay and Jeff has made it clear that he'd prefer me gone. Take care of him for me, Tin Tin. I want to know that he is all right. He may be indifferent to me now but we were friends for a long time before all this. I will miss him. Terribly. Don't let him wallow for too long, he has a shocking habit of moping when things go sour. Despite recent events, I still care about him.

My breath caught. I needed to get out of that room. I attempted to get past my sons but they refused to move, blocking the door. Virgil spoke to me with uncharacteristic sharpness.

"You just lost our best agent thanks to your pig headed attitude."

I stared at him, furious. "I do not have to listen to this!" I hissed. I attempted to force my way through the barricade and was shoved back.

"Yes, you do - you're hurting the people that love you and you're screwing up International Rescue!" Gordon exclaimed.

Alan appeared, glaring at me. "It's true," he said bitterly.

"I am your Father! Show some respect!"

Gordon shook his head. "Forget it. Look at him; he doesn't care."

"Don't you dare make that assumption," I snapped. "I did what was necessary to keep all of us safe, Penelope included! She'd become a liability."

"You're the liability!" Gordon hissed.

Scott looked at his brothers quickly and then he directed a level gaze at me.

"You're relieved of command," he declared with an authority in his voice that would shrink most men.

"You have no right to do that," I retorted.

"I...uh, I th-think it's for the, uh, b-best." Brains spoke up and came to stand next to Scott. I couldn't believe it. He bravely looked me right in the eye. I saw a light flicker, illuminating his face. His watch was transmitting, no doubt to Thunderbird Five. So they'd gotten John involved, too. Kyrano then joined the group, his silent support of my dismissal hitting hard.

Without a word, I walked around them and left the room. This time, they let me go.

Chapter 9

And that brings me back to this damned cold beach where I am still sitting, awake and ill tempered, waiting for dawn to appear. This has been one of the longer nights of my life. Not the worst, by far, but the prolonged drama is wearing us all thin.

Kyrano's question is still echoing in my mind. What would dishonour a noble character? I've done the best I could with what life gave me. I've been more fortunate than most but lady luck demands harsh payment for the favours she sends my way. My big ideas and big money came at a price. I don't think I have ever been as noble as Kyrano might generously believe. I proved that tonight. It's an entirely unsatisfying situation.

Someone is coming. I can see a light moving through the jungle. I wonder who it is... Scott maybe? Though it's unlike him to leave command unattended, unless he put Brains or Virgil in charge. But how did they know where to find me? Did they spike my food with an edible transmitter? Sneaky...but that's ridiculous. They didn't know any more than I did what would happen tonight. Perhaps Kyrano followed me down here and told them where I am. What does it matter? They've obviously known where I've been all along. So much for my plan of sulking retribution.

He's stopped a few metres away, waiting for me to acknowledge him. Humph. Might as well get this over with.

"I'm not going to bite."

There is a gentle rustling and my stalker appears holding the light in front of his body, enveloping himself in shadows and stinging my eyes. I cover my face with an arm.

"Son, do you mind?" I snap irritably. The lamp moves and I look up with a cross brow. The words I was going to say are stuck in my throat.

It's not Scott.

"What are you doing here?" Some clashing mix of disbelief and panic is rising in my stomach. The boys hadn't gone on a rescue at all. She regards me coolly and her expression makes me feel incredibly stupid for some reason.

"A favour for your sons," is the short answer I'm given.

I don't know how to respond to the tone of her voice. She's taking a seat on the sand, away from me, placing the lamp between us. She's not offering any words, either. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, I decide to be honest. Lying hasn't done me any favours of late.

"It was the best solution I could come up with," I begin to explain but her eyes narrow so dangerously that I falter. She speaks sharply.

"You were the only one with a problem."

My temper hits my brain and civility scatters to the winds. "That's just it, Penelope! You're so damned stubborn! You're always jumping into the thick of things, right where everything is dangerous and deadly. It's not fair for me to ask you to risk your life. It never was - and you need to settle down."

When she finds grace enough to speak, her voice is a good octave higher than usual and not far off from a shriek.

"I beg your pardon!"

"Well, it's true!"

She makes a frustrated, indelicate noise. "You are trying to bait me into an argument, Jeff Tracy. Why don't you just tell me what the real problem is?"

"I already did, Penelope."

"If you're not going to be honest with me then you are wasting my time." The glow on the sand is moving and I realise she's going to walk away. I catch her wrist as she passes me.

"Please...I don't want this to be so difficult."

"Once again I am left with the conclusion that you are the one making this difficult, Jeff." I feel her tug away from me and I release her from my grasp. When I look up again, I can see she has lifted her shirt. Even in the soft light, the new scars across her body are an ugly reminder of dark events. I close my eyes, too ashamed to see. She snaps at me.

"Jeff Tracy I have never known you to be a coward. Look at me."

I obey reluctantly.

"I was injured in the line of duty. Nothing more." After a few seconds of stony silence, she smooths her top down. My throat feels thick.

"I did that to you."

"No, the Hood did that to me and he's currently re-learning proper toilet functions. This is not your fault and frankly, you are behaving like a self indulgent, bad tempered child about this whole affair."

"Excuse me?" Vainly hoping to cower her into submission, I stand and lean over her slight frame, my arms crossed and a scowl on my face. With her hands on her hips in a defiant gesture, she waits.

"You heard me."

"Penelope, I don't think-"

"Think? When is the last time you had a rational thought?"

"All right, this is getting silly."

"Finally the man talks sense."

"Enough!" I roar. I need to stop, count to ten...take a very deep breath. "I'm sorry I upset you, but I still think I did the right thing."

"You're wrong. Despite all the chances and alternatives, you made the worst possible choice."

"You're better off away from me."

"No." She takes a step closer. "When did you become such an obnoxious cad?" I can feel my jaw drop. She comes another step closer and I unconsciously shuffle back. "You're a little defensive," she notes. "Do I threaten you?"

I mumble something along the lines of 'this is ridiculous' and she advances further, backing me into a tree. There's nowhere else to go. A final step and she is so close I can feel her breath on my neck and smell her perfume.

"Am I in danger now?" she asks. I'm very uncomfortable and she knows it. I clear my throat, trying to find something intelligent to say.

"Uh, Penelope..." She points her finger right at my chest.

"You are not going to hurt me, Jeff."

I sigh and put my hands on her shoulders, carefully pushing her away. "All right, you win. Sit down with me." She agrees and once again we make ourselves comfortable in the sand, side by side. The lamp is attracting insects so we turn it off.

"Does your scar hurt much?" I ask, grateful for the darkness to hide my face.

"Sometimes when I'm tired, though the doctor says that will ease over time."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising."

"Of course," I say automatically. "Sorry."

"Jeff!"

I make a frustrated groan. "This isn't easy," I begin to explain. "I'm only trying to keep you safe. From dangerous assignments, our enemies...me."

"You're not usually that terrifying, aside from your mood of late and we may yet be able to chalk that up to a lapse in judgement."

"I'm not supposed to have lapses in judgement."

"What nonsense," she laughs gently. The tension I'd created between us eases, just a little, and allows for a few moments of silence without acute discomfort.

"Thank you for taking care of the mansion for me," she says suddenly. "I was dreading coming home to all that."

"I didn't want you to see any of the mess."

"I appreciate it." Very quietly, she adds, "Why did you run away when I came home?"

Answering her is difficult but I eventually find the words. "Because three days earlier I'd stabbed you with a knife," I say bitterly.

"And that bothered you."

"You are unbelievable. Of course it bothered me! I nearly killed you! You were lying on the floor, bleeding everywhere. I was terrified, and you still tried to save us. You told me to leave you and go after The Hood. What he did to you..."

I choke on the words. I can't bring that up.

A warm hand slides over mine and holds on tight. When she speaks, her voice is soft, but sure. "I'm all right, Jeff."

I nod stupidly. My eyes are stinging and this time I can't blame it on the light. "It should never have happened, Penny. If I had done my job properly..."

"Now you sound just like Parker. You did exactly what you were supposed to. You gave us the chance to defeat the Hood permanently." Her voice changes, echoing a quality that I can't describe. It's not fear, but it is meek. " He was a petty man, Jeff. He thrived on terror and fear. I refused to give that to him. Taking my mind wasn't enough, so he tried to take something else. There's no need to fret about me. I survived, didn't I?"

"How can you be so...casual about this?" I ask, watching her lean back on one elbow.

"It's not easy," she answers with a shrug. "But I suppose it helps that I don't feel guilty."

I stare out at the black ocean and watch the moonlight shatter over the waves. "Well I do," I say eventually.

"For what, exactly? You had no control over what happened to me." She gives my hand an encouraging squeeze. "You even scrubbed my ballroom floor! What do you have to feel guilty about?" I can't help but shake my head and wonder which of us is more stubborn.

"This isn't just going to fizzle away, Penelope. I feel responsible for what happened," I tell her and she gives me a look.

"I know you do - but remember that you are the only person who feels that way."

"Parker does," I correct her.

"Parker was mad at you for my sake."

"You have an answer for everything."

"It's my job to have answers."

"Which reminds me...there's that job issue."

She shrugs and withdraws her hand, her tone becoming business like. "It's an interesting offer. Not as satisfying after working for International Rescue perhaps, but it will come in a close second. Though I really do recommend you find some help for poor Sir Jeremy. He's a scientist, not a spy."

"I have Spook lined up, but I did throw Jeremy in the deep end," I admit and she laughs again.

"Yes, you did! He's been calling at all hours, asking questions about videophone interception and carrying concealed weapons."

"You didn't tell him how to tap into transmissions, did you?"

"Of course not. Sir Jeremy is not trained for that sort of thing and a half hour phone conversation is not an adequate crash course."

"Not to mention it's technically illegal."

"Oh, nonsense. I do it all the time. Though the Bureau does have the authority to grant warrants for that sort of thing, so the chances of me being incarcerated are growing slim."

"You actually sound disappointed," I say and she grins at me. "So you're definitely leaving, then?" I ask, beginning to feel more than uncomfortable with the idea.

"You gave my job to someone else. I don't have much choice, do I?" she points out.

Giving myself a moment to think, I finally come up with something to say. "Do you think you could reconsider?" I ask, realising too late how arrogant it sounds, but she seems to take it in stride.

"Well I don't know. I am rather attached to the boys, I suppose."

"Penny!" I don't know if I should laugh or be exasperated. She replies with that professional tone again.

"The Bureau has given me a legitimate offer, Jeff. If you don't want me here... and let's be honest. You have been insistent on getting rid of me."

"I didn't mean it like that," I protest weakly.

"Perhaps you really will be more comfortable with Sir Jeremy and Spook the mystery man. I'm sure that after tonight's discussion we'll part as friends."

Right at this moment, I am certain that I don't want her to leave. I can feel a flush spreading up my neck and over my cheeks and suddenly, I feel very, very foolish.

"You can't go," I blurt without thinking.

"You asked me to."

"I was an idiot!"

Once again her caustic dryness hits me. "It's a bit late to admit that, Jeff."

"You don't have to be in such a rush to agree with the idiot comment."

"Make up your mind - do you want me working for International Rescue or not? But remember I don't do sloppy work. I will be involved in danger. I will risk my safety and sometimes my life. I will not accept being treated this way. The same standards that apply to the rest of the staff apply to me."

"I understand."

"Do you? It might mean some fairly harsh changes."

"How do you mean?"

"If our friendship interferes with your professional judgement then we will need to set up some boundaries."

"Boundaries?"

"No more of this. No more casual visits and holidays together. Just work." I look at her face and I know that she is completely serious.

"Is that what you want?" I ask after a moment.

"It's your call, Jeff. Friend or employee?"

"Why can't I have both?"

"Because I won't give you both unless you can cope with the consequences." She is direct and to the point as always. I nod ruefully.

"I've screwed up royally, haven't I?'

She smiles gently but does not sugar coat the disappointing truth. I screwed up. I take a deep breath.

"Lady Penelope, I want you to stay with International Rescue. I apologise for the way I have treated you. I hope that you will forgive me and we will be able to continue our solid professional relationship."

"Very well, Jeff. I accept."

"That's settled then. Now, Penny." In a gesture unfamiliar to both of us, I reach over and hug her. Her shoulders tense with surprise. After a second she warms to me and even slides an arm around my back to return the comfort. When we separate, she looks a little bashful. I watch her face and offer the only apology I can come up with.

"You are my friend and I am sorry I hurt you. Please don't let this obnoxious old man and his bad behaviour convince you to leave."

Her eyes seem sparkle even in the dark and she beams at me. "Thank you," she says.

I can't help but return the smile. "That's good. They boys would have killed me."

She bumps my arm with her shoulder. "Poor Jeff."

"Yes, poor Jeff."

"Speaking of your charming sons, are you ready to return to the house? Watching the sunrise on a lonely beach might be a romantic experience under certain circumstances, but this is not one of those occasions."

"Time to face the music."

"You didn't think they were going to let you get off this easily, surely?"

"This was easy?"

"Come along, Mr. Tracy." We haul ourselves to our feet. "You're going to have a rough day," she warns as we brush the sand off our clothing.

"It's deserved," I admit. "I didn't handle this very well. I don't blame the boys for what happened tonight." She lifts the lamp and turns it up, leading the way into the trees.

"They'll just be happy you're feeling better. Although I shall have to restrain Parker."

"Please."

We wander through the jungle without any sense of hurry. Penelope gives me time to sort through my thoughts. She's intuitive that way. After contemplating recent events, something odd stands out.

"Can I ask you a question?" She grants permission and holds out her hand so that I can help her step over a boulder. "Is Spook really a mystery man?" She lands gracefully on the damp path and I pass the lamp back to her.

"He'd like to think so, I'm sure."

"I had a feeling you two knew each other."

A small, private smile graces her lips. "We're acquainted."

"It's one of those secret agent things, isn't it?" I joke. Her smile widens and that eyebrow rises again. There is an unspoken promise that if I behave myself, she might just tell me about it. One day.

We continue on our way, an ease settling between us that reassures me our friendship has come out of this disaster intact. I know there is much more to sort out but at this moment, I'm sure it will be all right. If Penelope can forgive me for what I did, then perhaps the boys can too. One day, just maybe, I will as well. In the meantime it's enough to know that my family still have faith in me. We emerge by the pool and find the entrance to the house blocked by an armchair.

Scott is sleeping there, his legs sprawled and his face troubled. He has obviously been waiting for us. An open book has been forgotten and is lying across his chest. Penelope picks it up and shows me the title. It's one of Brains' manuals, written to guide us through emergency field repairs in the bowels of Thunderbird One. I carefully wake my son and tell him to go to bed. Even exhausted, he eyes me suspiciously. Penelope tells him everything is fine. She smiles at us and slips away to find her bed. Only then does Scott obey me.

"Glad you're back," he tells me with a tired, slurred voice and he wanders off into the darkness.

Silently, I agree with him.

The End

(Cookies to anyone who can figure out who Spook is!)