AFTERMATH by BOOMERCAT RATED FRPT

Jeff ponders the events of Malfunction.

This story takes place immediately after the events of Malfunction.

Jeff Tracy walked slowly down the hallway of his South Seas island home, rubbing his neck as he went. It had been one hell of a day. What had seemed at first to be a mechanical problem with Thunderbird Two had proven to be sabotage. His chief engineer, Brains had just confirmed that fact little over an hour ago. The saboteur, a vicious criminal named the Hood, had attempted to kidnap his eldest son, Scott, and in the attempt had shot both Scott and his son Virgil with a paralyzing ray. Then when his plans were foiled, the Hood had still managed to injure Jeff's two youngest sons.

Jeff was on his way to check on the younger boys, men really, now, after having literally tucked Scott into bed. Opening the door to the small infirmary unit, Jeff wasn't at all surprised to find his elderly mother sitting between the two beds. "How are they, Mother?"

"Gordon's sleeping well enough, but Alan's fidgety." Ruth Tracy's fingers gently combed the soft blond hair of Jeff's youngest son. Jeff could see the sheen of sweat on Alan's brow and the small restless movements of his legs.

"Why don't you go get some rest, Mom? I'll stay with the boys." Despite his utter exhaustion, Jeff knew he wouldn't sleep this night.

His mother ignored the request. With her eyes still on her youngest grandson, she asked quietly, "How's Scott doing?"

"I put him to bed." Jeff didn't like the pallor of Alan's face. While technically Brains had a medical degree, he was really a researcher rather than a working doctor. The family physician, Wendell Carraker, would arrive in the morning. Jeff wondered if it would have been wiser to have taken Alan straight to the hospital.

"Jeff, I don't approve of you encouraging your son to drink like that."

He looked up and found himself looking his indomitable mother in the eye. Jeff looked away first. "Scott bottles things up, Mother."

"He comes by it honestly."

"I know. How well I know. But I needed to know what kind of threats the Hood was making. I felt we needed to be prepared. Scott couldn't or wouldn't discuss it. I thought a bit of whiskey would help him relax."

"Honey, it was more than a 'bit of whiskey'."

Jeff thought ruefully of the freshly opened bottle that now sat in the trash bin. "Yes. Seems my boy has a hollow leg."

"It's not wise to encourage that kind of drinking. It never solves the problems you think it will."

Mother and son both turned to face Gordon when the red-haired Tracy brother coughed softly in his sleep. Both waited for any further sign of distress, but none was forthcoming. Ruth reached over to gently brush Gordon's hair away from his sleeping eyes.

"He did a hell of a job out there today." Jeff shook his head. Gordon's ability to think and act while under pressure amazed him. Actually, all of his boys were amazing to him, each one constantly exceeding his expectations.

His mother's voice was tinged with pride. "And why wouldn't he? He is a Tracy after all."

Jeff smiled, "True."

"And did you get what you needed?"

Jeff, caught up in his examination of his son's sleeping face, looked up. "Uh, excuse me?"

"Did Scott tell you what you wanted to know?"

Jeff frowned in remembered revulsion. "Yes."

"And will you be prepared?"

Jeff felt a shiver start to build. The Hood's threats were designed to terrorize, nothing more. There was no way to prepare short of abandoning International Rescue and turning the island into a fortress. His only solace was the Hood was in custody for stealing the weapon he used on Scott and Virgil. With luck, the man would be sent away for life.

"Well?"

He looked his mother in the eye, and lied. "Yes, we'll be prepared."

"Good. Now, how are we going to explain those marks on poor Gordon's throat?"

Jeff harrumphed. After the last time Dr. Carraker had been called out to tend one of Alan's injuries, he had taken Jeff aside, and confided an amazing theory that Scott of all people was abusing his brothers. That all of the contusions, concussions, and cracks in the bones were a result of Scott's hidden violent temper. Jeff had listened openmouthed, and had been too shocked to effectively refute the well-meaning physician.

Ruth smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "I was thinking a barroom brawl..."

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