SWIPED by BOOMERCAT RATED FRPT

A rescue in Hungary leads to danger for the Tracy family.

Author's Notes: Anybody who knows me knows that I am not a fan of serials. I like to read complete stories in one sitting, and when I come to the end of a chapter, and find the story is not complete I get frustrated. Having said that, this story just lends itself to serialization. It's told from two alternating points of view. For the reader's benefit, I indicate the point of view at the beginning of each chapter.

Chapter One: A Rescue In Hungary

VIRGIL

"Alan, you okay?" I tried to keep any hint of concern out of my voice. My youngest brother was standing, brushing himself off, and he seemed to be all right, but the sight of him tumbling down that hillside had caused my heart to climb up in my throat.

His cocky grin reassured me. "Yeah. Let's do it again!"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Sure. Virg, do you think that guy meant it when he said he was going to shut this place down?"

'This place' was an underground bauxite mine. Frankly, until we got the call, I hadn't realized there were any underground bauxite mines. The bauxite mines I was familiar with were all open pit operations, but I'd gotten a crash course on the underground mines of Hungary from John on my way.

Hungary was a country that had benefited greatly from the development of the old EU at the turn of the century, and one of the benefits had been the privatization of their industry. The man Alan was referring to was the mine owner. He had been very shaken by the accident, a collapse of one of the primary tunnels, and had declared to one and all his intention to shut the mine down.

"I don't know. He'd lose an awful lot of money, and a lot of people would be out of work. I guess it will depend on how he feels once he calms down."

"I was thinking maybe Dad would buy it. It wouldn't take too much to bring up the safety standards and like you say, it might save a lot of jobs."

I stopped in my tracks. "You know what he'll say if you mention it to him, don't you?"

Alan shrugged. "He'll say research it but I don't mind. It seems kind of interesting the way they do it. And besides, look at those big machines. You gotta love those big machines."

All of my brothers seemed to believe I had a big machine fixation. I studiously ignored the huge Caterpillar 797 that Alan waved to. It had a 24-cylinder V24 quad-turbo diesel engine and a payload capacity of 360 tons. When I'd first noticed it upon landing, my fingers had itched, but Alan wasn't going to know that if I could help it.

"It's for digging in the ground, kiddo. I prefer to fly." To my consternation, Alan just laughed, acting as if he knew better.

I was about to say something trenchant when Alan suddenly cursed and broke into a dead run. I looked where he was headed, and felt my stomach drop. Twenty yards away, under the wing of Thunderbird One, my brother Scott lay in a crumpled heap, not moving.

Despite his head start, my fear drove my feet so that Alan and I both reached Scott at the same time. Somehow, the training kicked in, and I started checking vital signs as if this were some faceless rescuee. Alan disappeared for an endless moment then reappeared with the EMT box.

Scott was truly unconscious, not responding to my calls or the touch of my hand as I checked his pulse and cleared his airway. The fact that there wasn't a mark on him frightened me deeply. As bad a cut or bruise, or God help me, a bullet hole would have been, the lack of any sign of injury could only mean something internal had happened.

Scott was a healthy, fit man, and for him to collapse meant whatever the something was, it was serious. I grabbed the stethoscope that Alan offered and with trembling fingers, checked my brother's heart. The beat was slow but strong and regular which was a relief.

I turned to reach for the sphygmomanometer and felt a sudden weight. Alan was leaning against me for some reason. I tried to turn to push him away but my legs gave out and as quickly as that I fell across Scott, and everything went away.

Chapter Two: A Mystery Unfolds

GORDON

This wasn't Brains' fault. I knew that, so I worked hard at not showing any irritation. If I had any of my brothers here, this wouldn't be an issue. But Scott, Virgil and Alan were off in Hungary at some mine and John was on duty in Thunderbird Five, so here I was trying to muscle a two hundred pound ballast pump into a tight space with the help of the proverbial 98-pound weakling.

I suppose I was the one to blame, really. I could have waited until the guys got home. But I'd been looking forward to getting this pump for days. Thunderbird Four had been sidelined for the last week since a hunk of falling deep sea drilling platform had clipped her. I'd nursed her to the surface, and with the help of the conveyors on pod four, got her home. But she had sat damaged in her pod ever since.

Less than an hour after my brothers had left, the pump had been delivered, and my foul mood at being left behind again had evaporated. Most areas of Thunderbird Four were easily accessible from the exterior making replacing damaged parts a breeze. The damaged ballast tank itself had already been removed and replaced, but the bulky pump had to go in through a narrow interior access that made it impossible to use any of the nifty antigravity devices Brains had come up with over the years.

I cringed as I heard the heavy thump as Brains dropped it for the fourth time. I popped my head up through the open floor grating and looked up at my panting red-faced friend, wondering if I could somehow convince my Dad to leave his command desk. "Gordon, uh, this isn't uh, working. I can't get a good hold on it."

"That's okay, Brains. I know you're doing your best. I'll tell you what, let's try switching places. I'll lower it down to you, and all you have to do is put it on the deck."

"Uh, I think I have a better, uh, idea. If you'll give me a little t-t-time, I can cobble up a hoist that will, uh, f-f-fit in this space. That way you'll have a way to uh, steady it while you install it."

God, I loved this guy! "Yeah? How much time?"

"Uh, maybe an hour?"

In an hour, my brothers would probably be home, but I figured this would give Brains a way to save face. "That'd be great, Brains. Can I help you build it?"

Whatever Brains would have said was cut off by the alert signal wailing through the hangar. My stomach just about dropped to the deck. How could there be an alert when both Thunderbirds One and Two were already out on a call? The possibilities ran through my mind as I ran to the elevator that would take me to the house. Brains caught up just as the elevator door slid open and we both pushed in, my hand slamming on the up button.

I glanced over at Brains, and hoped my own face was not as pale and frightened as his was. It probably was though. My mind was only giving me disastrous scenarios. The last time I had answered an alert when my brothers were already on a mission, it was to man fire control when my brother Virgil was practically shot out of the sky by a trigger happy admiral on a navy ship.

Entering the lounge, I got one look at my father's face, and I knew it was bad. "Dad?"

My father glanced up and summoned me with a wave before turning back to my brother John's grim face staring down from the wall. "John, button them up."

My brother's eyes widened, and for a moment I thought he would argue, but then with a sharp nod he turned away to his control panel. The lump that had formed in my stomach hardened into a knot of lead. "Dad, what's happening?"

Running his hand through his hair, my father shook his head. "We're not sure yet, son. All we know at the moment is that your brothers are not responding. John's had a call from the authorities at the site asking him why the Thunderbirds haven't left yet."

"Father, I've sealed Thunderbirds One and Two. I'm scanning the interiors of the ships for life signs now."

"All right, John. I also want you to track your brothers through their wristcomms. I want to know if they or anyone else are aboard those ships."

Brains and I sat dumbfounded. How could this have happened? What the hell was going on?

"Gordon," the softness of my father's voice got my heart pounding. "I want you to go get Thunderbird Three prepped."

I blinked in confusion at that. Did Dad mean to send me to Hungary in a rocket? How would that help? Thunderbird Three wasn't designed for earthbound rescues. It didn't have any equipment that would be of any use. I guess I just sat there staring, because after a few moments, Dad barked out, "Gordon, get moving!"

"Yes, sir!" I got over to the couch, and almost fell onto it as my father triggered the elevator that would lower it to a conveyor system that would transport me to Thunderbird Three's silo. As I was whisked along, I looked up at the tall red-orange rocket. As always, the sight of the ship made my mouth go dry.

Chapter Three: A Real Dungeon

VIRGIL

"I think he's coming around."

"Yeah. Virgil! Come on, Virg, wake up!"

God, why did they have to yell? And what the hell was I drinking last night? I rolled away from the clamor and covered my head with my arm.

"Oh for... Virgil, wake up. Now, Virgil."

"Lemme try, Scott." Why wouldn't they leave me alone? I just wanted to sleep a while longer. "Hey Virg? Gordon's painting Thunderbird Two orange. He said you said it was okay, but I gotta tell you, it looks pretty ridiculous."

The noise subsided. Finally, they had shut up and I could go back to... orange? ORANGE? "ORANGE??? Whaddaya mean ORANGE?"

I sat up quickly, then as the full force of the hangover hit, I grabbed onto my head to keep it from falling off. It was only then that I realized I was not in my bed. Far from it. I looked carefully around, trying not to jar my head. The first thing I saw was the manacle that ran from my ankle to a bolt in the stone wall. The next thing was my two brothers, dirty and disheveled, sitting against other walls, each sporting a manacle like my own. "Uh..."

"We don't know, Virg. I woke up about an hour ago, and Alan woke up ten minutes ago. What you see is what we know."

"At a guess, I'd say we're still in Hungary. This looks like the real deal to me. A real dungeon."

I looked around at the room and realized Alan was probably right. The walls consisted of large worn stone blocks and except for the dim bare light bulb hanging over the heavy wooden door, it looked as if it could be centuries old. I still wasn't functioning on all cylinders because only one question came to my mind. "So Gordon isn't painting Thunderbird Two orange?"

"I only hope Thunderbird Two is somewhere Gordon can find it. Virg, we've been kidnapped. Our ships were left unprotected, so they've probably been stolen too. We've got big problems, and I need you to focus."

Scott's voice was diamond hard. The last of the mind fog dissipated. "Yeah. Sorry, Scott."

"It's okay. For what it's worth, the headache clears up pretty quickly. Now, the first thing we have to do is get out of these cuffs. Anybody have any ideas?"

It was only then that I realized my sash was gone. A glance confirmed the wristcomm was gone too. I had nothing in my pockets. I looked around the floor in my immediate area, but there were no keys, bobby pins or lock picks lying within reach.

I turned to look at the bolt in the wall. It looked as if it had been there since the dawn of time. I felt the rust with my hand and slid my finger through the eye. I gave a tentative tug, but there was no give. I pulled it to the side and damn if I didn't feel just the tiniest movement. I pushed it the other way and was rewarded with a minute trickle of stone dust. "Scott, I think maybe we can work these bolts out."

I looked over my shoulder at my brothers. They were both staring at the bolt holding Alan's chain. I felt my heart fall. Where the bolts holding Scott and me were rusted and old, Alan's was shiny steel. Even if Scott and I could free ourselves, we would never be able to liberate Alan.

Chapter Four: Hungarian Rhapsody

GORDON

"Jeff, I believe I have a lead on the boys."

Thank God. It had been three days with no word, and I was beginning to fear we would never know what had happened to my brothers. Dad leaned forward. "What have you got, Penny?"

"My contacts at MI5 tell me of a rumor that the Hungarian Prime Minister Rendor Halasz got a hold of something that would secure his attempt to consolidate his post with that of the nation's presidency. He's an ambitious man, and a ruthless one, too. My sources say whatever it is he is planning, it is big, and could throw the country into civil war."

"So how does that help us, Penny?"

"Well, obviously, my contacts don't have all of the information. If they knew three agents of International Rescue were missing, they probably would connect the same dots that I have."

I found myself nodding along with Dad and John. It was really a miracle that my brothers' disappearance was not worldwide news. Three days ago, I had prepped Thunderbird Three, then I was ordered by my father to take our zip jet to Hungary. There Brains and I had loaded up the jet into pod three and with me flying Thunderbird Two, and Brains flying Thunderbird One, we had come home, leaving my brothers behind.

The authorities at the bauxite mine had no idea that anything unusual had taken place. Personally, I thought they all had to be pretty damn dumb not to figure out something was wrong, but then again, we were a secret organization, and John had been amazingly glib in explaining things.

Dad had taken Thunderbird Three up to Thunderbird Five and gotten John, and the four of us had been quietly going crazy trying to figure out what happened.

"So you think this Halasz has my sons?"

"I think it's a strong possibility, yes."

"Why? How can he hope to use them for political gain?" John sounded as bewildered as I felt.

"This is where it gets very difficult. Hungary has fallen behind some of its neighbors in the last few years. Romania in particular has leapt ahead in industrial development. The balance of trade between the two countries has put Hungary at a further disadvantage. Halasz comes from a venerable Magyar line, and he is not loath to use the connection to his advantage. He is fomenting a nationalist program that appeals to a great number of disaffected people in Hungary."

"But what has that got to do with us?"

"I believe his idea was originally to get Scott, Virgil and Alan to publicly endorse him."

"That would never happen." My father's flat statement made me uneasy. It was one thing to say no to some asshole who was threatening you, but a whole different thing when they threaten someone you love. I know Scott would spit in their eye, but I was less sure about Virgil and Alan.

John's glance told me he had the same fear, but his voice was calm as he asked, "What do you mean originally?"

"I have at least one source who says whatever it was that Halasz was planning has fallen apart due to infighting within his circle of advisors."

"That can't be good." I blurted it out. The vise that had been squeezing my heart for the last three days tightened another turn.

"Yes, and no. I believe that the boys are being held until this infighting has ended. Depending on the winner, they will either be killed outright or tortured into making public statements supporting Rendor Halasz."

Chapter Five: Escape

VIRGIL

"Get ready."

I nodded, my eyes on the heavy wooden door with its sliding peephole. It had taken a lot longer than any of us had thought to work free the bolt holding my manacle to the wall. Scott's had proven tougher, and still held him captive. Alan hadn't even tried.

We had been visited several times by our jailers. Each time the same guy had opened a creaking door somewhere outside of our prison, then trod heavily to our door. The peephole would open, and once assured we were still bound, he would unbolt the door, push it open and toss in a few chunks of bread and a bottle of water. He was never alone. A beefy pinheaded guy stood behind him, his presence apparently meant to intimidate us.

The pinhead didn't scare me, but the lack of food did. There was never enough for three men. Scott said that was intentional. They were trying to break us down, get us fighting among ourselves over the food. It might have worked with strangers, but not with my brothers and me. We shared what we had as evenly as we could.

The heavy boot steps stopped, and right on schedule, the peephole slid back. As we planned, we were all sitting listlessly against our individual walls. I was covering where my bolt should have been. After a cursory look, our jailer slid home the peephole, and my brothers and I leapt to our feet.

I moved swiftly to the door and when it opened, I grabbed the man's arm and used his momentum to propel him over to my brothers. I knew they would take care of him and that left me to deal with the pinhead. He was fast, I'll give him that. As soon as he saw me in the doorway he came at me with a roar.

I would never again complain about the hard martial arts workouts that my father and Scott insisted on. As the pinhead reached his ham hands for me, I fell back and pulled him into a fast throw. He hit the wall with an audible thunk and fell stunned to the stone floor of our prison. I couldn't help a feeling of disgust. After who knows how long in this stone cage, I was spoiling for a fight, and my adversary's quick capitulation had robbed me.

I fought the temptation to kick my downed rival and looked over to Scott who was turning out the pockets of our jailer. The man was laid out between my brothers. Still chained to their respective walls, they couldn't quite reach each other. The bleeding nose and rapidly bruising eye told me all I needed to know about who had taken him down. Alan had a penchant for socking guys in the face. Scott would have, I don't know, snapped the guy's neck or something.

I started checking the pinhead over. There were no keys that I could find. He did have a wallet though. I rifled through it and it pretty much confirmed what we suspected. All of the papers were in a foreign language that to my untrained eye looked to be Hungarian.

"Virg, get his belt and shoelaces. You need to tie him up before he comes to."

"Yeah. Did you find the keys?"

"No such luck. I didn't really think we would."

"Hey, Scott, feel this. What do you think?"

I looked over and saw Alan apparently feeling the guy's shoulder. Scott had to stretch to his full length to put his hand where Alan's had been and with a surprised look said, "Let's get his coat off."

I started to watch, but a low moan turned me back to my own task. I pulled the long leather belt from my victim's waist and used it to bind his hands behind him. I checked his shoes and Scott was right, they were heavy work boots, with long leather laces. They made handy ties for the pinhead's thick ankles, with enough length to loop them through his bound wrists making a tight hog-tie.

I looked back at my brothers and found Scott was bent over his ankle. I moved over to find he had managed to come up with a couple long pieces of what looked like 20-gauge wire. "Hey! Where'd you get that?"

"From that guy's jacket. Stiff padded shoulders. It's all the rage."

Leave it to Alan to know about fashion. The manacle snicked open and Scott was free. He blew out a relieved breath and moved to Alan. Alan for his part reached for the wires in Scott's hand. "I can do it."

Scott turned the wires over with a nod and moved back to the jailer. He took the guy's wallet and pocketed it. With a glance at my raised eyebrows, he explained, "We're not out of this yet, guys. We still need to get out of this place, and then we need to get in touch with base. We're going to need money and clothes, too. These uniforms stick out like a sore thumb."

Alan paused where he was working on his manacle. "Can't we just go to the closest police station? I mean, you got to figure half the world is looking for us."

I nodded my agreement. Scott tended to think in military terms, and I supposed he was planning this as if we were in enemy territory. But International Rescue was accepted the world over as a force for good. I felt all we had to do was find someone, anyone, and say who we were and we would be home free.

"Fellas, you're not thinking this through. That mine had cops all around. You think they all just went blind? No, they were in on it. We don't know who we can trust here. And think about what you said, Alan. Half the world. You think that doesn't include people like the Hood? We get out, find a phone, and call Dad. He's probably already figured out a way to get us home. Once we're home free, then we'll figure out a way to come back and get our Thunderbirds."

Chapter Six: Discovery

GORDON

I leaned back into the shadows as the night watchman strolled by. The watchman, a tottering old man with a glowing pipe and a large flashlight proceeded on his rounds, totally oblivious to the five people within a few feet of his path. Just seeing the old guy reconfirmed my misgivings.

Lady Penelope was convinced that my three missing brothers were being held in this decrepit old house. Earlier in the day, John and I had actually toured the premises under the guise of vacationing architecture students. At the time, I found it hard to believe that anyone would hold captives in the basement of what amounted to a tourist attraction. True, John and I had been the only tourists that day, but still, the house, called a 'manor house' wasn't all that big.

The guide hadn't spoken much English, and John's grasp of Hungarian is tentative at best. We looked at ratty old furniture and seedy paintings. The guide said that the foundation of the house was actually from an old medieval castle, but we weren't allowed to see it because it was under renovation. I'd seen enough in the first five minutes to tell me we were on the wrong track, but John had insisted we take the entire tour. I think he actually likes looking at moldy old books and things.

Anyway, we'd rendezvoused with Dad, Parker and Penelope and told them our impression that there were no prisoners there. Penelope produced an old tour book that had a diagram of the house and it's foundations. Both John and I were surprised by the extent of the old stonework under the house. You couldn't tell by looking at the exterior, but the foundations spread out for a couple of hundred feet from the house in all directions.

Dad made a command decision, so here we were, dressed in black, with black knit caps pulled down over our hair, prepared to make an assault on some little old lady's home. A soft whistle indicated that Parker had disabled the antiquated alarm system, and Penelope moved to the French doors to slip the latch. It only took her a moment, and along with the others, I slid inside.

We moved one by one across the room, and I have to say, I was impressed with how silently everyone moved. I expected it from Parker, but we all, even Dad, moved with the silent stealth of cats, and finally reached our destination-- a heavy wooden door that our tour guide had helpfully pointed out as the way to the basement.

Parker took a moment to study the door, then muttered "No h'alarms." He lifted the latch and we passed him, moving into the dark, down a sharp flight of stairs. At the bottom was another door that John carefully opened. We all passed through into a dimly lit corridor.

"All right. Everybody clear on their assignments?"

John and I nodded and headed off to the first turn in the hallway where we went to the left. Dad and Penelope followed, then headed to the right. Parker was to remain in the house as a rearguard. Penelope had given him firm instructions not to disturb any of the exhibits, but personally, I thought it was unnecessary. There was nothing in this house that anybody would want.

John and I were headed to an area marked on Penelope's map as the old castle dungeons. If my brothers were anywhere in this place, that seemed like the most likely spot. Dad had wanted to search that area himself, but John and I convinced him that it was only fair to toss a coin. I cheated, of course, so he and Penelope were off checking out the kitchens. We came to a corridor with several doors. Each door had a heavy wooden crossbar that slid into the wall, effectively locking in the prisoners.

John looked at me. I shrugged, and reached up to pull back a small metal slide that covered what amounted to a peephole. I saw a gristly site. Two men dangled by their wrists from the ceiling, their backs a disaster area of burn and scourge marks. Their tormenter stood to the side, bare-chested with a black leather hood and pants, holding a white-hot poker. "Oh brother."

John looked over my shoulder and tsked. The mannequins weren't even all that realistic and the blood, along with the 'heat' on the poker was simple paint. "Come on, I'll take this side, you take that side."

"Yeah." I moved to the next door. It was similar scene of tacky fabricated torture. John and I were right. While we wasted time here, who knew what was happening to my brothers, wherever they were. We were about two thirds of the way down the corridor, when John found something. "What the..."

He unbolted and pushed open the door. I crowded in behind him, my gun at the ready. What we found were two guys trussed up. There were also three chains ending in leg irons, two of them locked to the wall. I couldn't help the grin that started.

The two guys were both conscious and both were calling out to us behind their gags. John and I looked down at the bigger of the men, and John said casually, "Neat hog-tie."

I nodded, "Tidy."

We looked at each other and said in unison, "Virgil."

I nudged the second guy with my foot. "This one seems to have met Alan and the fist of death."

John grinned and lifted his wristcomm. He pushed the button, and almost instantly, Dad's voice filled the dank dungeon air. "Did you find them?"

"No, but Gordon and I hereby apologize to Lady Penelope for ever doubting her. We found a couple of men tied up in one of the cells. It looks like the guys have gotten away."

"Thank God." The relief in my father's voice was reflected by the calming my pounding heart. "Are you boys sure it was them?"

Looking at the two victims, John replied with a smirk, "Oh yeah, it was them all right."

"They still have to be around here. These guys haven't been here that long."

"Yeah. Did you get that Dad? They can't have gotten out more than maybe an hour ago. They're probably still around here somewhere."

"Yes. Let's go find them."

"Uh, Dad? Be careful. Scott's gonna be in full superman mode and he might clobber you before he realizes it."

"Right. You boys be careful, too. Don't let your guard down. There may be other people on the loose down here."

"FAB, Dad." John signed off and looked at me. "Let's split up for now. You go that way and I'll go down this way. If you find anything, sing out."

I shook my head. "John, splitting up isn't a good idea. I wasn't kidding about Scott. You know he can be dangerous, especially if he's defending Virgil or Alan. He could be on you before you knew it."

"I'll rely on my rapier sharp wit to disarm him." I let my stare tell him what I thought of that idea. After a moment he relented, heading off down the corridor, muttering, "Come on, worrywart."

"What about these two?"

John didn't even turn around. "Leave 'em."

Relieved, I let him lead the way. But when we came to a cross-corridor, I pulled him back, and insisting on caution, I took a quick peek around then drew back. John just rolled his eyes and strolled around the corner like he was out for a Sunday walk.

Chapter Seven: In The Kitchens

VIRGIL

"Catch." I tossed the canned peaches over to where Scott stood guard by the doorway. He popped the top and drained the can in a couple of gulps.

We had been wandering around looking for an exit for the better part of an hour and when we found this pantry next to a large industrial kitchen, I had insisted that we stop and get some food. Scott had balked at first, but when I pushed, he gave in.

The walk-in freezer was locked, but the pantry had shelf after shelf of canned goods. The labels were all in Hungarian, but the pictures were pretty clear. So far, we had decimated the canned peaches and the beef stew. Alan was looking for something to carry stuff in and our ever-vigilant watchdog, Scott, was staring off down the hallway, a heavy frying pan in his hand.

I was exhausted. Even though I had done nothing for the last few days, the worry and fear had drained my energy. The food was helping. The fact that we were free helped too. My brothers and I hadn't speculated a lot about what was going to happen. I guess we didn't want to think about it. I was more worried about Scott and Alan than I was for myself. My mind shied away anytime I considered the possibility of either of them being hurt.

When Scott had mentioned the Hood, my stomach had turned flip-flops. The man was a menace, and he had the means and the desire to do my family harm. To date, we had kept a couple of steps ahead of him, but I had no wish to run into him now.

I had eaten my fill of syrupy fruit, and now I just wanted to get the heck out of there. I spied some canned apricots on an upper shelf, and knowing that Scott liked them, I reached up to pull down a couple of cans for him. Unfortunately, I misjudged the distance in the gloom, and instead of getting the top can, I knocked a bunch of them over. I grabbed desperately and juggled three out of the four cans to the safety of a counter, but the fourth can fell to the stone floor with an appallingly loud clatter.

I froze. Scott shot me a glare, then he too froze at a soft sound coming from the hallway beyond. There was someone out there in the dark and they were coming this way. I made a move to hide, but Scott stilled me with a gesture. I realized he wanted whoever it was to see me. They would see me, but not Scott, and not the cast iron frying pan he held ready. With my heart pounding a mile a minute I stood there, staring at a can of fruit, desperately hoping Scott's plan worked, and that some guard didn't decide to just shoot me from a distance.

As God in my witness, I had totally forgotten about Alan. He had gone to the far side of the kitchen searching for a bag of some sort. I think I jumped a foot when he suddenly appeared at my side. In a tone that could have awakened the dead, he said, "Look, I found a backpack."

I barely glanced at Alan, as a scene far worse than any horror movie I'd ever seen unfolded before me. Scott jumped at Alan's voice, and then hearing a step at the door swung his frying pan head high. I screamed at him to stop, but he was in full swing. I could see what he could not. My brother John stood in the doorway, grinning.

Chapter Eight: Family Reunion

GORDON

John and I looked up one hall and down another. There was no sign of my brothers. Not that I really expected any. At one point I complained about the lack of broken twigs to track them. John had agreed, saying he blamed Virgil. Personally, I preferred to blame Scott, but I didn't argue.

By my watch, we had been at it for almost fifteen minutes. We'd met up with Dad and Lady Penelope, and they had headed up the stairs to check with Parker and search the house. John and I were checking out the rest of the basement. I had just about had enough of musty storerooms when we heard a sound like something hitting the floor. We moved quietly toward the sound, hugging the walls as we went.

I was glad John was finally showing some caution. We moved down a narrow hallway toward an open space. John was a couple of steps beyond me. He looked out into the space and immediately relaxed. I copped a peek and saw Virgil and Alan across the room standing at a table. Alan said something about a backpack, and every alarm in my head went off.

I saw John move forward and Virgil start to yell. I didn't wait. I tackled my brother from behind, pulling him back with all my strength. We both tumbled to the floor, and I heard a huge clang where something big and black hit the stone wall right where John's head had been.

Scott was suddenly there with a yell that fell silent, as he got a look at who he was dealing with. Virgil and Alan crowded up behind him and there was a moment of stunned silence between John and Scott. I was silent because what felt like two thousand pounds of older brother had knocked the wind out of me. It was only when I hit the hard stone that I remembered I was carrying a couple of Sauer 357's in holsters clipped to the back of my jeans. I breathed a sigh of relief that neither had fired and blown my ass off.

Virgil was breathing hard, and swore as he reached his hand out to help John up. "Jeezus. You scared the crap out of me."

"John, you okay? I didn't clip you, did I?" Scott was all solicitous of my brother. At least he had landed on something softer than hard stone floor. Scott and Virg concentrated on dusting John off, but Alan hadn't forgotten me.

He came and sat next to me, pulling me up into a sitting position. "You okay?"

I rubbed my lower back where the guns I was carrying had dented the flesh. "Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. We were escaping."

"I noticed you didn't escape any further than the kitchen."

"Oh, yeah, well, we would have gotten around to really escaping sooner or later. Nice save on John, by the way."

"Next time I let Captain America clobber him."

"Hey, I heard that. You okay, squirt?"

"I'm fine, now that I don't have your elbow in my gut."

"How did you guys find us?" Scott came over and offered me a hand, which I took, then in turn I offered my hand to Alan.

"Lady Penelope. The woman is spooky. She has spies everywhere. She not only figured out who had kidnapped you, but where he stashed you away. This dump is his ancestral home."

"Hang on a minute." John lifted his wristcomm, pressing the call button. "Dad, we've got them."

"Copy that. Stay where you are. We have activity up here." Dad's whispered instructions sent a chill up my spine. I guess it was too much to hope it would be this easy.

Chapter Nine: A Victim No More

VIRGIL

"Damn." Scott looked down at the frying pan in his hand. Gordon noticed and reached behind his back and pulled out a second gun that he handed to Scott. Scott took the gun readily, checking the breech and nodding his thanks.

"You got another one there for me?"

"No, sorry."

John reached and pulled out a twenty-two that he handed over. I mirrored Scott's action in checking the gun. It was amazing how such a little thing could turn your whole point of view around. Suddenly, I no longer felt like a victim.

"Hey, what about me?" Alan's complaint was indignant. Gordon made a production of searching his pockets then pulled out his little Swiss Army knife.

"What am I supposed to do with that? Key their cars?"

John laughed and pulled out another gun. "Here."

Relieved, Alan said "Thanks."

Thus prepared, we all looked to Scott. "All right. John, how do we get out of here?"

"There's a stairway that leads up into the house."

"Any other way?"

John looked over at Gordon who thought for a moment then replied, "There's a coal chute somewhere. There's also supposed to be a delivery dock, but from the map we saw, it looked like it was blocked off somehow."

"Okay, let's go take a look at the coal chute. Gordon, take point. I'll cover the rear. You guys keep your ears open and your mouths shut." He gestured to Gordon who headed off down the hallway.

I hesitated to let John and Alan get ahead of me. I was feeling better and better about this. The gun had given me a sense of control, and having Scott taking command felt like the world had come back into balance. The suckers who had kidnapped us had no idea what they were up against.

We moved as a team through the stone corridors. Gordon had said this was a home, but it sure didn't feel like it to me. There were no windows, and the stones of the hallway all had the ageless look of antiquity about them. The floor underneath was worn and uneven, and I tripped more than once. I would have felt like a clumsy fool except that my brothers were all having the same problem. Moving quickly and silently, we advanced to a hallway that ended in a rough door.

Gordon put his hand on the latch, and looked back down the corridor to Scott, who signaled him to wait. Using hand signals we had all learned, Scott deployed Alan and me as rearguard, then moved forward with John. With their guns trained on the door, Scott nodded, and Gordon pulled the door open.

Chapter Ten: Into The Coal Bin

GORDON

I pulled heavy door open, and swung my gun up. The storeroom was pitch black, but I knew it was a coal bin from the black dust that immediately rose to tickle my throat. When Scott moved into the room, I followed, immediately stepping away from him.

I felt a lot better just knowing my brothers were all right. As far as I could see, they were none the worse for wear, and we moved together like the well-drilled team that we were.

Once it was obvious there was no threat, John moved under the heavy iron coal chute door which was maybe eight feet off the floor. Despite the coal dust in the air, it seemed as if this storeroom hadn't been used in ages. John braced himself against the wall, and Scott signaled me to climb.

I holstered my gun and stepped up, climbing up to John's shoulders. The chute door was solidly locked, with no way to open it from this side. After a few moments, I looked down to Scott and shook my head. If we were going to get out, it wasn't going to be this way.

Scott nodded his acceptance and I hopped down from John's shoulders. Together we moved to the door of the storeroom where Alan and Virgil stood guard. Scott spoke quietly. "All right, that's not going to work. Did you two see where the delivery dock is blocked? Can we get through it somehow?"

I shook my head, but John answered first. "No, we didn't get that far. It was on the other side of that kitchen."

Scott sighed. "All right, we'll go check it out. Alan, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

"Virg?" "I'm doing okay. Let's just get out of here."

"Gordon, lead the way."

I moved past Alan putting my hand on his shoulder. I don't know, just the fact that he was still feisty made me feel good. I headed down the hall, with Al right behind me and the others following. When we got to the kitchen, I was very cautious about sticking my head out, I guess from the memory of that frying pan hitting the wall a short time before.

The large room was quiet and I padded stealthily across the floor. When I got to the far door, I looked back to check my brothers' positions. From his place at the door we entered, Scott nodded the okay to go ahead. I listened at the wooden door and when I could hear nothing, lifted the latch and pushed it open. The screeching of the door hinges sounded deafening in the quiet room and I paused, listening intently for any movement.

Luck was still with us and after a moment, I moved out into the short hallway that on the map led to a delivery dock. I took no more than two steps before I was brought up short by the blockage John and I had seen on the map. It was a solid brick wall.

Chapter Eleven: Trapped

VIRGIL

"Trapped. Trapped like rats." John's dry comment brought a roll of the eyes from Scott, but both Alan and Gordon displayed predatory smirks. I felt the same way. I was actually starting to hope for some action. We'd been kidnapped, starved, and imprisoned, and I wanted some payback.

Scott picked up on it pretty quick and gave all four of us that Dad look. "Guys, we have one objective here. That's to get home safe. All right? We're avoiding contact at all costs, got it?"

Alan sniffed. "I'll avoid them if they avoid me."

Alan's look was typically defiant, but when Scott stared him down, he backed off with a disgusted nod. Scott turned his death ray eyes on me, and I blurted, "What did I do?"

"I need you with me on this, Virg."

"Always." And I meant it. Scott and I had been a team for as long as I could remember. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him, and I knew he felt the same way. If he wanted me to set aside my desire for revenge, I would.

Satisfied, Scott nodded and looked over at John and Gordon who were wearing identical looks of angelic innocence. Scott sighed, muttering 'knuckleheads' and strode off down the hall. I started to follow, but John called out, "Uh, Scott? The stairway's the other direction."

I couldn't help but join in the snickering as Scott stopped and his shoulders slumped. We waited as he stood with his back to us mentally counting ten. He turned around and just looked at Gordon, who started, saying, "Uh, I'll just take point now."

Oh yeah, Scott could get us to jump when he wanted to. Gordon moved promptly down the hallway and Alan and John followed suit. I hung back and grinned at Scott, and after a moment, he broke down and chuckled softly. He gestured for me to proceed him and I did.

I couldn't help but wonder about the 'activity' that Father had mentioned. We had been free for well over an hour, and except for John and Gordon, we had seen no sign of anybody else. It was as quiet as a tomb in these hallways.

We advanced through the stone corridors stealthily. Gordon finally stopped before a nondescript door halfway down an equally nondescript hallway. This place was such a warren of identical tunnels and doors that I couldn't help but think it could have taken Scott, Alan and me days to find it. The light dawned when I got up close and noticed someone had carved an 'X' into the heavy dark wood.

Scott moved forward. "Okay, what's the layout here, guys?"

Gordon answered succinctly, "A landing, narrow, steep flight of ten steps, no landing at the top."

"Lighted?"

"There's an overhead light fixture, but it wasn't on when we came down." Gordon pulled out a flashlight.

Scott took the light, then gestured for Gordon to lead the way. With a short sharp nod, Gordon put his ear to the door, then cracked it open. After a moment, he slipped through. When it was my turn, my heart caught in my throat. This stairwell would make a great trap. Anybody at the top of the stairs would have an easy job shooting anybody below.

We all recognized the danger. John and Alan were both pressed to the walls as if they hoped to melt into the plaster. I did the same. Gordon was the only one exposed as Scott played the flashlight on him. As I expected, as soon as Scott saw the situation, he suddenly hissed, and Gordon froze. With gestures, Scott motioned Gordon back.

With a frown, Gordon backed carefully down the steps, never taking his eyes from the door. John, Alan and I stood still, eyes locked on the door, just as we were trained. Gordon got back to Scott's position, but instead of giving him instructions, Scott handed him the flash and moved forward himself.

I heard a small sound of disgust behind me, but frankly, I wasn't surprised. Scott always took his position of oldest brother and leader seriously. In fact, it would have been more surprising if Scott had not taken the lead. Scott got to the step below the door and looked back, verifying our readiness. He reached up, just as Gordon had, but suddenly, the door flew open and smacked him in the face.

Chapter Twelve: The Lady

GORDON

When we got to the stairwell, Scott suddenly decided I was just a kid not to be trusted with opening a door. If the need for silence hadn't been so strong, I would have objected. I would have reminded my dear brother that he was the rescuee and I was the rescuer. I would have pointed out that I had actual knowledge of what laid beyond the door in question. As it was, I was just going to have to wait until the debriefing.

As rearguard, I covered the hallway, but my attention was on the door as Scott approached it. My heart skipped a beat when the door suddenly flew open. Before I had my gun swung around to cover the threat, I realized the person slipping through and scattering my brothers before her was Lady Penelope.

She didn't hesitate for a moment. She grabbed Scott by the arm and hustled him before her. The stairwell was so narrow that my brothers and I were forced to back out into the corridor. Lady P shut the door to the stairwell firmly behind her and heaved a sigh of relief.

She was looking decidedly pissed, but when she glanced around at us all, her tone was as civil as a ladies tea party. "Scott, I'm so sorry. Are you all right?"

Scott held a finger across his bleeding lip. "I'm fine."

"Virgil? Alan?"

"They're fine. What's going on?"

I was a bit surprised that Scott would snap at her like that. It started to dawn on me that maybe Scott was feeling stressed out. I hadn't really given it a lot of thought, but from the look on Virgil's face, I could see he thought Scott was on the edge. That was sort of how it worked. You wanted to know what Scott was thinking, you looked at Virgil.

Lady P took it all in stride. "I am very pleased to find you all in such good shape. As to what is going on, unfortunately, the local police were called. They've captured your father and Parker."

John's face reflected my own surprise. "You mean to tell me that old geezer of a watchman actually noticed something?"

Lady P's eyes turned diamond hard. "No. Apparently there was a silent alarm connected to a case of silver whatnots."

John chuckled. "Ol' Nosy couldn't help himself?"

"I'll thank you not to laugh, John. If your father's retinal scans are sent to Interpol, it could be disastrous."

That sobered John right up. Penelope was right. It would be a catastrophe. Aside from the damage to his reputation and Tracy Enterprises, Father's connection to International Rescue would be exposed.

When Lady P could see we understood the seriousness of the situation, she continued. "As for Parker, I will deal with him."

I glanced over at Alan and he nodded, shuddering expressively. We both found Lady Penelope more than a little bit intimidating. For all of her charity work and kindness, she had a core of steel that matched my father's. I had a lot of respect for the woman, but when I told Scott she was spooky, I meant it.

I thought for a moment, then expressed a concern. "Are they even likely to have retinal scanners? That village seemed pretty backward to me."

"We're not going to take a chance that they don't." Scott had finished nursing his lip, and now just took command. "We need to get to that police station and get Dad out before they can take a scan."

Scott's resolve firmed up my own, and from a glance around, that of my brothers too. We all looked to Scott to see what his plan to save the world was this time.

Chapter Thirteen: Decisive Steps

VIRGIL

"All right. First things first. Penny, what's going on in the house? Are they likely to search down here?"

I listened as Scott took charge. Looking at Penelope, I saw something flicker in her eyes, and I wondered if she would accept Scott's leadership as readily as she did Dad's. She was a woman who was used to being in charge, and for a moment, I thought she might challenge Scott's lead.

If Scott had any doubts, he hid them well. The look on his face was one of pure determination. It was a look I had seen on my father's face many times, and I think it was that resemblance that caused Penelope to accept Scott's leadership. With a decisive shake of her head, she replied, "I believe they feel they have their burglars. I suspect they will leave without any comprehensive search."

Gordon spoke up. "Is that really likely? I mean, American cops would search the whole house and the entire perimeter just to be sure..."

"Yes, that is true, but most American homeowners don't have captive International Rescue agents locked up in their basements. I feel quite confident that the watchman will prevent any search down here."

As if to prove her wrong, we heard the sound of the door to the house open and voices raised in argument. We all froze, then following Scott's hand signals, moved silently down the hallway. Once we rounded a corner, we stopped. We waited, listening hard for any sign that the door from the stairway was opening. I don't know if I would have heard it if it had. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt it must have been loud enough to wake the dead.

Scott signaled for Gordon to keep watch while the rest of us dropped back. We gathered around my brother and he asked softly. "How many are there?"

"Policemen? Two." Penelope frowned. "Are you considering overpowering them?"

"If there are only two, yes. We don't know how many might man that police station, or what kind of security they have. If we attack now, we can eliminate the need to find out."

"Scott, I don't like the thought of your father being caught in the middle of a firefight."

"Yeah, and remember you guys are still in uniform. Unless this is a take-no-prisoners deal?" John's voice was tinged with sarcasm.

It was a good point. It could do irreparable damage to International Rescue's reputation if we were recognized in the act of fighting with the police. Alan saw a flaw in the argument. "John, unless you have a change of clothes for us in your back pocket, we'll be in uniform anyway. Better we do it here where there are only two guys to see us."

"Actually, we do have clothing for you all in the car." Penelope's statement brought raised eyebrows from Alan and me, but Scott simply nodded.

"All right. John, what time is it?"

"Uh, about two thirty. In the morning, in case you've lost track of day and night."

"Okay. You've all got good points, but I don't want to wait. The quicker we get Dad, the quicker we can get the hell out of here." Scott whistled softly alerting Gordon who moved quickly to join us. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. Gordon and I will take point. When we get into the house, we'll cover the cops and the watchman. Penny, you get Dad and Parker released. We'll put the cops with the other guys in that cell we were in. Everybody stay alert. I don't want any shooting unless there is absolutely no choice. Any questions? All right, let's go."

Chapter Fourteen: A Dark House

GORDON

God, I loved it when Scott was in command. It was like being back in WASP. If you trusted your leaders, you could let them do the planning and all you had to do was get on with the job. I followed Scott back up the stairs. He paused to listen, then carefully opened the door.

I was a bit surprised to find the room was dark. I guess I had assumed the cops would turn on all of the lights in the house to do their search. Scott moved left, so I moved to the right. Soon, Lady P and my brothers were all in the room, probably just as puzzled as me. The house was dead silent, with no sign of any activity.

There were two doorways out of the room. Scott looked the question at me, and I nodded toward the door on the left. It led toward the front parlor of the house where I reckoned the cops were likely to be. Scott moved to that door and listened carefully before easing it open.

I could see that the hallway beyond was dark, and an uneasy feeling began to take hold of me. It felt like a trap somehow, but how could they have known we were there? I know there was no way my father would have said anything, and for all that Parker was an idiot for setting off the alarm, he would never willingly put Lady Penelope in danger.

As the others moved forward, I hung back a bit. If it was a trap, I wanted to make sure that at least one of us didn't fall into it. Scott glanced back, saw what I was doing, and nodded. He signaled John forward to take the lead.

Her back was to me, so I couldn't be sure, but from the sudden tension in her shoulders, I got the definite idea that Penelope was not thrilled with Scott's disposition of his troops. Alan and I were at the back, and John and Scott were on point, and that left her ladyship in the middle position with Virgil.

I think she thought she was being protected, and she didn't like it. Personally, I agreed with Scott. It had nothing to do with her being a woman, and everything to do with not wanting to face Dad if anything went wrong and she got hurt.

When we made it to the parlor, John went ahead and opened the French doors. The room was just as dark as the rest of the house. My brothers and Penelope all entered the room, but I still had that uneasy feeling and I stopped in the doorway.

Puzzled, Scott called a huddle. I stayed where I was and covered the hallway as everyone else gathered around. I could hear Scott questioning John and Penelope but his voice was pitched barely above a whisper, and I couldn't make out what was being said.

Cautiously, I stepped into the room closer to hear the conversation. No sooner had I taken the step, than I was pinned by a brilliant white light.

Chapter Fifteen: Complications

VIRGIL

"Gordon! Don't move!" Penny's voice was a low hiss.

We had been moving through the dark and empty house and had arrived in a room that John identified as the front parlor. We had just come together to consider our next move, when a car's headlights flared on. An unshaded window had thrown the bright glow across the room lighting my brother in high relief.

Gordon froze, and I don't think any of us drew a single breath. The car started up and backed away from the window giving no indication its occupants had seen a thing. As the room was cast in darkness again, Gordon slumped a bit and we all resumed breathing.

Scott strode across to the window and boldly looked out. "Damn it."

We all joined him, and I saw, by the light of a distant lamppost, a car plainly marked black and white with a light bar on top. Penny sighed. "Well, gentlemen, I believe we have our work cut out for us."

"Right. First things first. Let's get out of here. John, how did you guys get in?"

"French doors at the back."

"Lead the way. Gordon, you're rearguard. Let's go."

John took us down a short corridor, then froze. We had found the only lighted room in the house. An open archway led into what looked to be a library from what I could see of it. I could hear someone moving around in the room. Scott stood to the side and took a quick peek around the arch, his gun up and ready.

Apparently the occupant of the room had his back to the archway because Scott took a longer peek, frowning at what he saw. He gazed back at us all, a thoughtful look on his face, then signaled us to stay where we were.

My stomach was doing flip-flops. I didn't like the idea of Scott tackling whoever was in the room by himself. Anything could happen. By the level of tension, I'd guessed no one else was particularly thrilled about it either, but we were well trained and we did as we were told, even Penny.

Scott tiptoed into the room, and after a few moments, we heard his call. I pushed my way ahead of John, and rushed into the room. Scott stood by the French doors, holding his gun to the head of a little old man. The man was facing away from us, on his knees with his hands interlaced behind his head. He had apparently been working on the doors when Scott had surprised him.

I started to say something, but Scott motioned us all to silence. "I need a blindfold."

I looked around, but Gordon was already stepping forward, pulling the hat from his head. It turned out it was a ski mask, and by simply putting it on the old man backwards it was a sufficient blindfold for Scott's needs. He spoke quietly again. "All right, I'm going to go put this guy with his buddies. You guys wait here for me."

Knowing we'd all obey, Scott didn't wait. He pulled the man from his knees, and with his hand locking the man's hands behind his head, Scott pushed him toward the hallway leading to the dungeons below. Penny suddenly spoke up. "I'm going with you."

Scott shot her a look of irritation, but she stood resolute, and after a moment, he conceded with a nod. The two of them left the room with their prisoner in tow. Gordon and Alan looked at each other and flopped down on an old horsehair sofa together. "It must be tough to be the alpha dog and have to deal with Lady Penelope."

Alan sniffed saying, "Yeah, it is, but I make do."

"John, I think this was harder than these guys let on. Alan's hallucinating."

John ignored the by-play, running both hands through his hair. "Virgil, how are we going to get Dad out of that jail?"

I decided it wouldn't hurt to start planning now. "What's the layout? Gordon, you said this was a village, what do you mean by that?"

Chapter Sixteen: The Van

GORDON

"It's real Old World stuff, Virg. According to the tour book, the whole village was owned by the family that owned this place. It's a bunch of little thatched cottages around a public square. There's a bar, a post office, and a police station. Maybe forty houses all told. From what I could see, most of the people there are old retirees." I thought about it for a moment and continued. "I think there's a chance that the two cops who picked up Dad are the only cops in town."

John nodded his agreement. "Yeah. I think I agree with that. Given what we saw, I think retinal scanners are a long shot. They probably rely on fingerprinting."

"That's just as bad. We've got to get to Dad before they can do any kind of identity search. You guys brought a car?"

John and I both nodded, John clarifying, "A van, actually."

Virgil thought for a moment. "Okay. Gordon, you go get it and bring it up. We're going to need to move quickly if we're going to have any chance of rescuing Dad tonight."

That made sense to me, and it was better than standing around waiting. Alan said casually, "I'm coming with you."

Virgil nodded and Alan and I slipped out through the French doors into the cool evening. "It's this way." By silent accord, we kept to the shadows until we were well away from the house. When we reached the dirt road that wound it's way behind the property, Alan came up beside me. "So, how long were we missing?"

"Three days. Well, three days and most of a night. What the hell happened, anyway?"

"I dunno, it must have been some kind of gas. Virg and I were heading to Thunderbird Two and I saw Scott just lying on the ground. We ran up, and within a couple of minutes, we were out like lights. I woke up in that dungeon with the headache from hell and Scott telling me we'd been kidnapped. So, does Lady Penelope have a line on the birds?"

Huh? "What birds?"

"One and Two. Scott figured they must have been stolen while we were unconscious."

"Oh. No, the Thunderbirds are fine. Apparently the bad guys didn't think they were worth anything. Brains and I flew them home the same day you went missing."

"You're kidding! Great. You've got to tell Scott and Virgil. They've been pining."

"Yeah, I'll bet. You're okay, right? They didn't whump on you or anything?"

"Naw. Once they had us locked up, they pretty much just ignored us. They fed us some bread a couple of times but other than that, we never saw anybody."

That was a load off my mind. I had spent the three days they were missing imagining all sorts of horrors. I know John had too. Dad was just a basketcase.

We reached an opening in the bushes lining the road, and I led the way to the van that Dad had rented. I reached to open the driver's side door, but Alan's hand was there before me. "I'll drive."

Damn, he was irritating. "No, I'm driving."

"Get real, Gordon. I'm a better driver than you, and if there's any kind of pursuit, we'll need all the advantages we can get."

"Who the hell says you're a better driver? Just because you can handle a racecar doesn't mean you're better than I am. I'm driving."

"Yeah? Well, let's compare, shall we? Who had four tickets in six months? That would be you. Who wrecked Dad's Lexus? Again, you. Shall I go on?"

Alan stood with his arms crossed, a nasty little smirk on his face. He thought he had the winning hand, but I had an ace in the hole. "You can't change your clothes if you're driving. Unless you like being filthy?"

Alan frowned and started to say something, then shut his mouth with a snap and nodded. "All right, but just to the house."

"Let's go." I really didn't like leaving my other brothers alone. I got in behind the wheel and reached under the seat for the key. I backed the van out from its hiding place, and started off down the road. We couldn't follow the same route across the fields, and so as Alan, in clean clothes, climbed into the seat next to me, we drove through the tiny sleeping village.

My heart rose up in my throat as we passed the police station. All of the lights were on, and I really just wanted to stop and get my Dad out of there. Alan felt the same and continued to peer at the stonewalled building until we turned the corner at the other side of the square.

"That place doesn't look too secure, does it?" Alan said thoughtfully.

"It doesn't have to be. I mean, what kind of crime would a place like this have? Some old geezer with a snootful yelling at the neighbors?"

"Yeah. All the better for us."

"Right." We settled into the drive, determined to come out on top.

Chapter Seventeen: Revelations

VIRGIL

"What?" I was startled by John's statement.

"Dad flew Thunderbird Three up to the station, and Gordon and Brains flew Thunderbirds One and Two home."

"Thunderbird Two is home? She's safe?"

"Uh, well, actually, she's at Lady Penelope's. Dad wanted to get here fast."

A different kind of dread filled me. "Gordon's been flying her."

It was a statement, not a question, but John replied anyway. "Yeah."

"If Dad wanted to get here fast, why didn't you guys bring Thunderbird One?" I know it was disloyal, but if a Thunderbird was going to be wrecked by a clumsy pilot, I didn't want it to be my sweet ship.

John looked me in the eye. "Virg, we didn't know what we were going to find. You guys could have been injured or something. Thunderbird One doesn't have the facilities, you know that. Besides, we can pound out the dings."

"Dings? What dings?" My heart just fell. Never mind that we were in enemy territory. Never mind that Dad was a prisoner. All I could think about was my ship.

John threw up his hands. "Jeez, I was just kidding, Virgil. Get a grip, your ship is fine."

I started to breathe again, and we heard a soft footfall in the doorway. Both John and I went on alert, but it was Scott and Penelope back from throwing the night watchman into the dungeon. Scott glanced around the room and with a frown asked, "Where's Alan?"

"I sent him with Gordon to get the van."

Scott nodded, "Good move. How long have they been gone?"

John checked his watch. "About ten minutes. They should be back in another five."

"Good. We need to get this taken care of before sunrise. John, what about this village? How big is it? How many people?"

"Wait, Scott. John has something to tell you first."

Scott looked at John, and John looked blankly at me. I waited, but it was clear John had no idea what I was talking about. "You know, John, you really need to get your priorities straight. Scott, the Thunderbirds weren't taken. Thunderbird One is safe at home."

Scott's eyebrows flew up. "Are you serious?"

"Totally serious. Brains flew her home."

As I expected, Scott turned a bit green at the idea of our resident genius flying his baby, but he swallowed manfully and with a grin said, "Hey, that's great news. Thunderbird Two's okay, too?"

"Yeah. They're both fine, Scott. Now about the village?" John was pretty cocky about it. It was easy for him. Thunderbird Five was unlikely to ever be hijacked. Still....

"Scott, I say we get Dad out and leave John in his place."

"What, as a consolation prize?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a booby prize."

"Hey, if it weren't for me, you guys would still be wandering around in the basement."

"All right, boys, that is quite enough. Here comes the van. Shall we?" Penelope walked out the door, for all the world like a gracious hostess in her own home. We followed behind. The van pulled up as we reached the gravel drive, Gordon behind the wheel.

I trotted to get ahead of Penny, and opened the door for her. I did my best Parker imitation to my brother's amusement, and handed Penny up into the van. If she thought it was funny, she hid it well, saying, "Thank you, Virgil," with the grace befitting a member of the aristocracy.

Alan tossed me a bag that proved to contain a change of clothes. I climbed into the back seat to get at least a little privacy. Scott, I noticed, only pulled off his top, replacing it with the dark sweater from his bag. He bumped Gordon from the driver's seat and got in behind the wheel himself. Seeing that, Penelope promptly changed seats with Alan saying Scott needed a navigator.

As I struggled into the blessedly clean jeans, Scott pulled out and at Penelope's direction, headed back the way Gordon and Alan had come. I was surprised when less than a mile from the manor, we crested a hill and came upon the village. Somehow, I had thought it would be further away.

I doubted there were forty homes here. It looked more like twenty, maybe twenty-five. All of the homes were dark, which I figured was a blessing. The fewer people who were up, the less chance we would be seen.

Scott drove at a decorous pace and within moments we were in the Town Square. Penny pointed out the police station which was as dark as the rest of the place. Alan shifted in his seat. "Scott, when we came through here ten minutes ago, that station was lit up like a Christmas tree. You don't suppose they took Dad somewhere else, do you?

My heart plummeted. If they had moved Dad, how would we find him?

Chapter Eighteen: Taking Action

GORDON

Oh, man, my heart just fell through the floor! It never even occurred to me that they might move Dad. Alan's white face reflected my own thoughts. If we had just gone in when we were driving back through the town, we'd already have Dad and we'd be halfway home by now.

If Scott was bothered, he sure didn't show it. He responded to Alan's question easily. "If they did, we'll find him. John, look at that back corner. Is that a comm line, or a power line?"

"Uh, that's power. See the transformer over on that pole? This place is pretty backward, but still, most communications would be satellite even here."

"Okay. What do you need to disable that line? Wire cutters?"

"Disable it? Scott, do you think that's wise? If the locks are electronic, cutting the power could be the worst possible move." Lady Penelope had a point, but Scott was, as always, two jumps ahead.

"I know. Here's what we're going to do. Gordon, John and I will go in. If Dad is in there, great. If not, we'll need John to get into their computer system to find out where they took him. Once we're out, I want that power knocked out so they can't call ahead to cut us off. Virg, I want you and Alan to get over to that power pole. On my signal, I want you to cut the line. Penny..."

"Uh, Scott? How are Virgil and I going to cut the line? I didn't see any wire cutters in that truck."

"Improvise, fellows. If you can't cut the wire, use the van and knock the pole over. Just do something and make sure that power is off, okay?"

"We'll handle it." Virgil was speaking with total confidence. Al and I exchanged looks. When Scott and Virgil started feeding off of each other, they got this superman attitude that could be frightening. Thank God they could back the attitude up. We'd seen it before on rescues. Scott would look at a hopeless situation, tell Virg to do something impossible, and Virg would just rise to the occasion. Alan and I thought they were both nuts.

"Penny, I want you to cover Virgil and Alan."

Penelope replied, "Very well."

I held my breath for a minute, but Lady P didn't bat an eye. She pulled a gun from behind her back. I have no idea where she had it back there. Her black sweater and pants were tight, hugging her curves, and I hadn't noticed anything like a gun-shaped lump. I supposed it was just another mystery I'd have to live with. Spooky.

Scott had parked the van brazenly in front of the police station, and John and I followed as he walked up the front steps and opened the door. We went in the building which was lit only by a lamp directly over an old-fashioned desk that sat squarely in the middle of the small room. Behind the desk was a square-jawed man who probably was a tough fighter in his prime. Fortunately for us, his prime was very long ago, and the muscles had all turned to fat. He looked up with hard eyes, and Scott smiled at him. "John, ask him if he has any bolt cutters. Tell him we're tourists and our car got caught up in some wire fence down the road."

"I speak English." I jumped at the deep gravelly voice cutting through the quiet night.

Scott wasn't fazed. He put on his most ingratiating smile. "Great! Listen, we just need to borrow some bolt cutters. We'll even pay."

The man looked Scott over with suspicious eyes. "You are American."

"Uh, no. Canadian, actually." John's remark caught me a bit by surprise, but I don't think I let it show.

"Let me see your papers."

"Sure, but you'll have to come with us to our car. Our visas and everything are in our luggage."

The cop shook his balding head. "I can not leave this station. I am on duty."

Scott frowned slightly. "Okay, how about this? My brother David here can go get our visas and we'll wait for him here?"

The cop's hard eyes settled like a searchlight on me. I resisted the urge to look at Scott and make sure he meant me when he said 'David'. He's always cautious about security. I stood up straighter, and tried to smile winningly. Whether it was the smile or just my natural charm, after a moment, the cop gave a sharp nod. I started to turn, then I turned back and asked in what I hoped was a tentative voice, "Um, can I borrow the bolt cutters, please?"

I thought he was going to refuse, but again with that sharp decisive nod, the cop stood up and pulled a key ring from his pocket. Concentrating on finding the right key, he moved to a series of lockers at the side of the room. As soon as he had the key in the locker door, Scott was there with his gun pressed to the man's neck.

"Just take it easy, and you won't get hurt. Now, hands up and on the locker." I swallowed hard. It just went against the grain to hassle a cop. Scott didn't seem bothered by it. He moved the cop away from the locker and tossed John and me a couple of orders. "CJ, get the bolt cutters out to Jack. David, check the cells."

I moved to the wooden door behind the desk. I was very careful opening it. I didn't know where that second cop was, and I didn't want him getting the jump on me. The door opened on a short corridor. An iron-barred cell was on each side of the corridor, and my heart soared at the sight of my father, sitting on a bunk in one of them. "Dad!"

My father looked up, totally surprised. "Gordon! Are your brothers safe? Where are they? Get me out of here."

With a grin, I turned back into the main room of the jail. Scott had found some handcuffs, and the cop was now seated back in his chair, with his hands cuffed behind him. "Scott, he's here! Where are the keys?"

It wasn't until I saw the utter relief that I realized my brother was terrified we wouldn't find our father. He picked up the keys from the desk and tossed them to me. I hurried back to the cell. The key ring only had about five keys on it, and only two of them were big enough to fit the locks of the cells, but Murphy's Law being what it is, I fumbled with the wrong key first.

Soon enough, the lock snicked open, and Dad pushed his way out. He threw his arm around my neck and gave me a short hard hug. Man, I was finally felt like I could breathe again. "Scott's out there guarding the cop."

Dad wasted no time, striding through the door to get to my brother. I started to follow when an aggrieved voice stopped me. "'Ere, now, wot about me?"

I looked over at the second cell. Standing at the door, with his hands tight on the bars was Parker. "Hey, Nosy. How you doing?"

"How am I doing? I'm in the nick! Let me out!"

"Are you sure you want out?"

"Wot do you mean? Let me out!"

"Well, okay, if you're sure. I mean, Lady P is breathing fire, but if you're ready to face her..." I moved over and unlocked the cell door. Unlike my dad, ol' Nosy didn't push his way out.

He stood there, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cell bars. "Crikey... 'er ladyship is mad?"

"I dunno, Nosy. Maybe you'd do better facing the magistrate."

With a small groan, Parker hit his head against the bars with an audible thunk. Scott appeared in the doorway. "What's the hold up? Let's go!"

I turned and followed Scott, a grin on my face when I heard the squeak of the cell door opening behind me.

Chapter Nineteen: A Family Gathering

VIRGIL

Scott said to get ready to cut the power, and that was exactly what I was going to do. I stood at the back corner of the police station staring up at the power line. I was going to cut the power. Scott had told me it needed to be done, and I was determined that I was going to do it. Now, if I could just figure out a way.

Alan stood next to me. "So, how are we going to do this?"

"I'm working on it." We had already examined the power pole. It was made of high-grade steel. Everything else within sight including the buildings looked as if it would blow over in a stiff wind, but the one thing we needed to trash would probably withstand a nuclear blast. Well, maybe not, but it still would take too much out of the van if we tried to knock it over.

The line from the power pole was covered in the new non-conductive fiber, Commulon. It was yet another oddity. Most places that could afford Commulon could also afford to have their utilities underground. I'd seen things like this before in other developing countries. It was a mix of modern technology and backwardness that could generally be traced to whoever was in power. In one place in Africa, I had seen mud huts with no running water or electricity, but each with a shiny new microwave oven. The president of the country had a love of popcorn, and he was determined that his people have the means to make it.

Who knew why this tiny village had high tech power? I didn't really care. All I cared about was doing the job Scott had assigned. The Commulon lines were designed to be weatherproof. They were tough and strong, and could withstand a lot of pressure, but I knew that the tests on it had spread that pressure over the entire line. I was confident that it couldn't withstand pinpoint pressure. That meant it could be cut, but I didn't have the means to do so.

That left the transformer. A short in the right place would do the job quite nicely, but as I looked at it, perched high up on the power pole, I could see that it was solidly built. I didn't think we were going to be able to break it open without waking the whole town up.

I sighed, wishing we had some wire cutters. Alan and I looked around when we heard footsteps. John came trotting up carrying, wonder of wonders, a pair of long-handled bolt cutters. Grinning, he handed them and a pair of leather work gloves over saying, "Compliments of Scott and the chief of police!"

"Did you find Dad?" Alan's voice was anxious.

"Gordon's checking. I've got to get back there. Can you guys handle this from here?"

"Hell, yes. Thanks, Johnny."

John sketched a salute then headed back to the front of the building, passing Penny on the way. She was standing at the corner so she could cover both Alan and me and the front of the building.

I turned to Alan, "Al, get up on my shoulders and see if you can reach that wire with the cutters."

Alan pulled on the work gloves as I leaned up against the building. He climbed up, and standing on my shoulders, reached up with the bolt cutters. I could see it was an easy reach even before Alan called down, "Yeah, this is going to work."

"All right, come on down until Scott gives us the signal."

Alan hopped down. "Virg, what if they took him to some army base or something?"

"We'll deal with that when we come to it. We can only take this one step at a time, right? Now, once we have the power cut, we'll figure out the next step."

We both looked up when Penelope made a small cry and suddenly left her post, running out of sight along the front of the building. My heart froze. What now? Alan and I ran for the front of the building, drawing our guns as we went. Before we reached the corner, Scott appeared, and ordered, "Cut the power! Now!"

We ran back, Alan scooping up the bolt cutters from where he dropped them. He was on my shoulders almost before I was braced. He got a good hold of the wire with the cutters, but it took all of his strength to make a dent. Alan was grunting and swearing a blue streak, but finally, the job was done, and the live wire fell to the ground, sputtering and sparking.

Chapter Twenty: The Getaway

GORDON

When I came through the door in the jail, Dad was asking Scott about his cut lip. Knowing Scott would just blow it off, I answered for him. "Dad, Scott took a door for me."

I thought I was perfectly clear, but Dad raised his eyebrows, and Scott, rolling his eyes said, "It's nothing. I walked into a door, that's all."

Dad still had a slight frown, but John came in the door, and seeing Dad standing there, exclaimed "Dad! Oh, thank God! I was thinking we'd have to bake a file in a cake. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, son. Where are your brothers?"

"They're outside, ready to cut the power."

"All right. Let's put this gentleman in one of the cells and be on our way."

"Yes, sir." Scott responded with alacrity. With John covering him, he escorted the cop back to the cells.

I had to ask the question. "Dad, did they do a retinal scan?"

"No, son, they didn't. They had a fingerprint scanner, but I doubt they had ever used it before. They couldn't get it to work, so they did it the old fashioned way." As he spoke, my father moved to the desk and went through the drawers. Right in the top center drawer, he found what he was looking for: a manila folder containing two cards each imprinted with a set of fingerprints, and what looked like a police report.

Scott and John returned, and Dad handed the file to John. "A souvenir of your old man's life of crime. Shall we?"

At Dad's invitation, we left the police station. As soon as Lady P saw my dad, she let out a small cry, and came running. She leapt into Dad's arms, and he swung her around with a laugh. John and I watched, smiling, but Scott was all business, trotting to the corner of the building and calling out to Alan and Virg.

Lady Penelope quickly regained her legendary composure, but I could see Dad was flushed with pleasure at her welcome. Alan and I often speculated on their relationship. I contended that Penelope didn't call her sheep ranch Bonga Bonga for nothing, especially because she invited Dad to visit... alone... everytime she stayed there. Alan still had trouble with the concept of our father having sex.

Personally, if Dad and Penelope ever got together, I intended to call her 'mommy'. Maybe not around Scott or Virgil though. As if she had heard my thoughts, Lady Penelope turned a cold look my way. I felt my gut tighten up as she took a couple of steps toward me. "Parker, please stop hiding behind Gordon, and come over here. I'd like a word with you."

Startled, I turned to find, sure enough, Parker had been standing there trying to be invisible. He muttered "Blimey." Straightening up, he walked over to Lady P, stopping just out of smacking distance. "Yes, m'lady."

Dad started, "Penny..."

Penelope stilled him with a hand on his sleeve. "Yes, Jeff, I know." She turned back to her errant employee. "Parker, we shall have a serious discussion when we get home. Now, if you'll get the door, please."

I had to admire ol' Nosy. As soon as he realized Lady P wasn't going to immediately kill him, he pulled himself up and instantly became the chauffeur we all knew and loved. "Yes, milady."

He opened the sliding door of the van and handed her ladyship into the backseat as if it were a limousine. It crossed my mind that for all his rough ways, Parker really was a classy guy. Or maybe he just had learned to reflect Lady P's class. I don't know, I'll have to think about it.

Just as Penelope settled into her seat, Alan and Virgil came around the corner of the building. Even in the dark night, they recognized Dad and came running. Dad let out this funny little gasp and pulled them both into a double hug. The three of them stood there for a long time not saying a word. Then it was over. Dad opened his eyes, and turned back into the commander. "Right. Let's go home, boys."

I turned to get in the van, but paused when I heard John's snicker. I looked up in time to see Scott, Alan and Parker all collide as they reached for the driver's side door. Virgil moved up beside me, and we exchanged glances with John. All we needed was the popcorn.

"Five bucks on Scott." Virgil whispered as the three would be drivers took stock of their competition.

"You're on." I figured Dad would step in.

Sure enough, as Dad climbed into the shotgun seat, he casually said, "Parker's driving, boys. Let's get a move on."

"You owe me five."

"Like hell I do. Outside interference. It negates the bet."

I would have taken it further, but John entered the van, and pushed me over on the bench seat. Scott took Virgil aside and said something to him before they both climbed in. Alan was the last to climb in. He looked a bit miffed, but he was stuck two rows behind me so I couldn't do anything about it.

Parker got us underway and we headed back out toward the main highway. The village and manor house were off the beaten track, but once we hit the highway some 15 miles away it would be a straight shot through to the airport in the city of Bekescsaba where our jet was parked.

"So, you guys brought us clothes. Did you bring us food too?" Virgil was always ready to eat.

"We'll get something for the trip home. Didn't they feed you?" There was something plaintive in Dad's tone, and I guessed he was still feeling the stress of the last few days.

Scott heard the tone too, and he responded, "Yes, they fed us. We're fine, Dad. Virgil's always hungry. You know that."

Virgil grinned and shrugged. "I can't help it if I have a healthy appetite."

Dad continued to scan all of our faces, apparently to reassure himself that we were all okay. My father was a tough guy. He had to be, given all that he had been through in his life. It had taken me a very long time to understand just how much he loved my brothers and me. I didn't want to think about what would have happened had we not found Scott and the guys.

Now that it was over, I realized just how lucky we had been. I supposed I was coming down off of an adrenaline high, because now that we were safe, I suddenly felt all cold and shaky inside.

"Oh, blimey. Milady, we've got company." Parker's voice was calm, but with an edge. We all craned our necks to see out the rear window, but it was completely black.

Lady Penelope was staring like the rest of us, and with a small frown said, "Where, Parker?"

"Up here, Madam, comin' straight at us."

We all whipped around and stared out the front windshield. "Damn." Scott's soft utterance was the understatement of the year as far as I was concerned. The back road we were on ran straight as an arrow across wide fields until it climbed up the side of a low hill about five miles away. In the clear night, headlights were plainly visible coming down the hill. A lot of headlights. I counted at least ten vehicles.

"Shall I kill the headlights, milady?"

"No, Parker. Do that, and they'll know something is up." Dad's voice was tense.

"Maybe it's just some delivery guys or something." Alan's voice had suddenly gotten very quiet.

"We can't take the chance. Parker, we have to get off this road."

"Yes, sir. I believe there is a dirt road up ahead." John's eyebrows went up at that, and I'm pretty sure mine were even higher. We had been on this road just the other day in full daylight, but I sure didn't remember enough about it to find a dirt road in the dark. I guess it was a good thing Parker was driving. He really knew his stuff.

Sure enough, we had gone less than a mile before he slowed to turn onto his dirt road. I kept my eyes on the approaching convoy until they were hidden as we passed through a large unkempt hedge. Once through the hedge, we found ourselves in a farmyard. Parker deftly turned the van around and pulled in close to the hedge before shutting down the engine and turning off the headlights.

Chapter Twenty One: A Little Larceny

VIRGIL

We all became very quiet waiting for the line of cars to pass. I knew it had all been too easy. I was also positive that the line of headlights didn't belong to delivery people. The hamlet was just too small, and the road was little more than a country lane. There was no logical reason that I could think of for a bunch of cars to be coming this way. It had to be related to us.

It was still before dawn, but the sky had just started to lighten when the convoy finally passed down the road a good hundred yards from our position. I could make out the leading cars were big, dark SUVs followed by three long limousines with flags flying on their front hoods. The really scary part was that after the limos came armored personnel carriers. There were at least five of them, each capable of carrying 20 soldiers, and I knew we were in trouble.

Dad said something that sounded like 'haless' under his breath, and Penny responded, "Yes, I believe so."

I was sitting in the back next to Alan, and we looked at each other. I could tell he had no more idea what haless meant than I did. Scott, sitting next to Penelope, asked the question. "Father? What's going on?"

Dad started, and turned in his seat. "Rendor Halasz is the Prime Minister of Hungary. He kidnapped you boys as part of a grab for more power. Parker, let's get out of here. I want as much distance between those troops and us as possible."

"Wait, Dad. There's one more car."

In the seat ahead of me, I could see Penny start. No one else did, though. John always had this amazing ability to look at a scene and instantly know exactly what was there. Gordon and Alan used to tease him calling him 'Rainman' from an old movie they had seen. We all sort of took that ability for granted, but Penny wasn't buying it. "One more, John? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I think it might be one of the SUVs."

Dad looked over his shoulder at us and as he opened his car door said quietly, "Scott?"

Scott immediately opened the van's sliding door and climbed out. He and Dad moved to the edge of the hedge and peered out into the darkness. I could hear their quiet voices floating back to us, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

Alan shifted in the seat beside me, and I knew how he felt. I didn't like being left out anymore than he did, but we hadn't been invited to the conference, and neither of us would violate our father's unspoken order to stay put. Penny had no such compunctions, and after a few minutes, she slid over on the bench seat, and got out of the van.

Parker took her exit as permission and started to open his door, but Penelope stopped him with a soft order. He shut the door softly, but from the set of his shoulders, I could tell he was disgruntled at being left behind. I thought of telling him welcome to the club, but John spoke up before I could. "So, Nosy. What were you stealing back at the manor? Forks? A tea set?"

We all laughed at John's question, but Parker pulled himself up righteously. "Not h'at all, sir. 'Appens I saw a certain three watches that H'I thought were better off in Mr. Tracy's custody."

"Our wristcomms? You found our wristcomms?" At my amazed exclamation, Parker reached down to his lower leg and fiddled with something. After a moment, he sat back up and held up three watches.

Gordon reached forward with a laugh and snagged the watches, and with a glance tossed two of them to Alan and I. Like with the gun, when I put the wristcomm on, I felt a whole lot less naked. Alan had a look of relief too, and he said, "Thanks, Nosy. I owe you one."

"You're welcome, young Alan. Uh, Mr. Gordon, h'if you would be so good as to give Mr. Scott his watch when 'er ladyship is watching, I will be in your debt."

"Sure thing, Nosy. What else did you swipe?"

Gordon's cheeky question caused Parker to start sputtering in indignation. John didn't buy it though. "Oh, come on, we know you didn't just get the watches. What else is there?"

"I'm thinking candlesticks. Oh, wait, remember those little snuff boxes? I'll bet he scored those!" Gordon said as John nodded knowingly.

"Maybe we should ask Lady P." I put in my two cents worth.

Parker immediately stiffened. "Now, there's no need to do that. H'I was going to tell you." Parker's voice was edged with panic. He reached down to his leg again, this time pulling out some sort of necklace. In the dimness of the van, it was hard to tell.

John snatched it from Parker's hand and muttered, "Oh God."

"What is it? What's wrong?" As oldest, I needed to know.

John handed the necklace off to Gordon who looked it over with an uncomprehending frown. "It's the freaking crown jewels is what it is."

"That?" I held out my hand for the necklace. With a shrug, Gordon turned it over. Even in the darkness of the van, the pendant sparkled with the light that could only be diamond.

"H'I was covering our escape, like. Confuse them into thinking h'it was ordinary burglars." Parker was on the defensive now. "And H'I did find the watches, don't forget."

John explained. "Gordon and I saw that necklace when we were casing the place. This Halasz guy comes from old time aristocracy. That necklace was given to his great-great something grandmother for services rendered to the crown. It's a couple of hundred years old and worth millions."

"Millions?"

"No, th' diamond itself is only worth, maybe, at best, half a million." Parker spoke with the confidence of experience.

John responded tiredly, "It's considered a national treasure. Didn't the big glass display case tell you anything, Nosy? That diamond is the main attraction at that place. People come from all over the country just to see it."

"Crap."

I nodded, seconding Alan's heartfelt remark. Gordon, who always had different priorities asked curiously, "So how come the cops didn't find it? Didn't they even search you?"

Parker started to answer, but then shut his mouth as Dad, Scott and Penny returned. My stomach tightened as I got a look at the grim faces. Dad shut his door and said, "All right, Parker, let's get going."

"What's going on, Dad?" Alan voiced the question we all had.

"John was right. One of the SUVs is parked about a mile up the road. It's just sitting there."

"Well, what are we going to do?"

"We're going to go right past them. Nice and easy, now, Parker. We're just honest citizens out about our business."

"Shouldn't we wait, Dad?" I could tell Alan was tired. Normally he would be looking for a fight, but his apprehension said he, like me, just wanted to go home.

"No, son. We need to be gone before Halasz discovers you boys have escaped."

"Not just that, Dad." I hated snitching on Parker, but this was information that Dad needed to make the best decisions. "Parker swiped a diamond necklace. John says it's a national treasure."

"The Ferenczi Diamond? Parker, you didn't!" Lady P was shocked.

Parker's shoulders slumped, and he answered meekly. "H'I'm sorry, milady."

Dad's voice was harsh. "All right, we'll deal with that later. For now, let's just get out of here."

By now we had pulled out onto the road, and in the lightening dawn, I could see a big, black SUV a couple hundred yards up the road. My stomach was doing cartwheels and I sat stiffly in my seat. Parker kept the van rolling at a steady pace, and we all held our breaths as we approached the SUV.

Chapter Twenty Two: The Chase Begins

GORDON

As we approached the big SUV, I was gripping something tightly in my hand. I wanted us to turn tail and run, but Parker kept the van rolling. Finally, we passed it. Nothing happened. I don't know what I was expecting, but it just sat there, dark and mysterious. None of us dared to turn our heads and look back at it, but I could see both Dad and Parker had their eyes glued to the rearview mirrors.

We continued on, and I heard someone take a deep sighing breath. I started to relax myself, and I glanced down at my hand. Scott's watch was cutting grooves into my palm I was holding it so hard. I loosened up a bit and turned to give it to him. I had to catch his attention as he was staring out the rear window. "Scott. Scott, here."

He looked over at me and saw the watch and practically took my fingers off snatching it. "You had this all along?" He asked with just enough accusation to make me tense up.

"Nope. Parker had it." I kept my voice level. I knew Scott was just a little edgy because of the situation. As he slipped the watch on, he seemed to realize he had snapped and he grimaced an apology in my general direction. It was good enough for me.

The sun was coming up behind the hills we were headed for, and I was struck again at how much the area reminded me of Kansas. Well, not the hills themselves, but the flat, grain covered plain that we were crossing. There was wheat for as far as the eye could see, just starting to take on that pale green that made the poets talk of seas of grain. This was a nice country, and I thought it was a shame that it would be forever linked in my mind with my brothers' kidnapping.

We had just started up the gentle rise of the first hill when my father muttered an expletive. "Parker, pick it up. They're after us."

Along with my brothers, I swung around to get a look. Sure enough, the black SUV had pulled a U-turn and was now coming at us like a bat out of hell. Parker accelerated sharply. John glanced worriedly at me and buckled his seatbelt. I did the same, pulling the strap tight.

"Oh boy." Scott's comment was soft, but I turned to see what he was remarking on. In the middle distance, the black SUV was raising a dust cloud, and further back cars were boiling out of the village like ants out of a disturbed mound.

"Jeff, they will call ahead."

"I think you're right, Penny." Dad lifted his wristcomm and called out. "Jeff Tracy to Thunderbird Two. Come in Thunderbird Two."

"Uh, uh, this is Thunderbird Two. Brains speaking."

I could hear Virgil's sharp intake of breath. Yeah, this was going to get interesting.

Chapter Twenty Three: At The Cliff's Edge

VIRGIL

"Brains, we've found the boys, but we've run into some trouble. I want you to get Thunderbird Two in the air. We may need you."

"Yes, Mr. Tracy. Uh, do you need a-a-any medical equipment?" Leave it to Brains to ask that. He was like an adopted brother, and I knew he cared about us all very deeply, but he would never express that concern openly.

"No, Brains. The boys are tired, but fine."

"Virgil's hungry." Gordon said it loud enough for Brains to hear. I knew his ulterior motive was to get something to eat for himself, and Brains probably knew it to, but I didn't contradict my brother. I wasn't exactly ravenous, but a snack wouldn't hurt.

"I'm, uh, sure that Mrs. Jones can put uh, something together quickly."

"All right, Brains, but don't spend a lot of time on it. We need you here."

"Uh, yes, Mr. Tracy."

While Dad and Brains were talking, Parker had sped up almost to the point of recklessness. The headlights of the cars following us were no longer visible as we had topped the first hill. At the crest, we could see that these hills followed rank upon rank to the east. The sun was highlighting them from behind showing easy rolling hills softened by a covering of grass.

The road, which had been arrow-straight on the flat, had now become a twisting nightmare. My stomach dropped as Parker skidded around a hairpin turn. The drop off wasn't particularly sharp, but I knew the high profile of the van we were in would practically guarantee a rollover if we hit the soft verge. Although we all had our seatbelts on, I could see that my brothers were all holding on for dear life, as was I.

As we climbed higher into the hills, we occasionally caught a glimpse of the SUV that was giving chase. It didn't seem to be gaining any ground, but that was hardly surprising, given the suicidal pace Parker was setting.

There was no sign of any other pursuit by the time we topped the second hill. When we cleared the crest, there were a couple of gasps as we got a look at our route. Where all around us were gently rising hills, the backside of the hill we had just climbed had been all cut away. Some two hundred feet straight down were some mine tailings and rusted machinery that identified this as an old mine face. I automatically noted the few whitish streaks that proclaimed bauxite peeking through the scrub that fought to reclaim the scarred hillside.

The road, such as it was, was narrow and winding, clinging to the cliff face. Parker didn't even pause. The van rocketed ahead as if this were a ten-lane super highway. I glanced over at Alan, who didn't seem in the least bit phased by either the speed or the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the seat edge. We were all silent, as if afraid any stray comment might break Parker's concentration and send us tumbling over the edge.

The trip down that hillside lasted only a few minutes, but it scared a few years of life out of me. I pitied Dad, up there in the front seat, with nothing between him and the rushing scenery but a fragile piece of glass. When we hit the bottom of the hill, I was startled by the whoop that Alan let out. "That was great! Next time, I get to drive!"

I looked over at my baby brother in amazement. He had that gleam of excitement that he always seemed to get whenever the going got really tough. Dad, Penny and John were all chuckling, probably in relief. Scott was shaking his head in disbelief. Gordon just looked sick.

I stared out the window getting my stomach under control. We were climbing again. Although we were in shadow, the sun had risen enough that the mine cut was lit by the morning rays. The big black SUV had lost a lot of ground, and was trying to catch up. I watched as it barrelled down the hill. Not as breakneck as Parker, but still, dangerously fast.

It was kind of with this sense of inevitability that I stared as the SUV missed the turn and went sailing out into the air, falling a good fifty feet before it's front wheels caught on a protrusion and it started flipping end over end.

Chapter Twenty Four: Rescue!

GORDON

Oh man. That SUV flipped at least four times before it landed out of sight at the bottom of the cut. Whoever was in it had to be hurt. Parker had his eyes on the road and didn't slow at all until Scott barked out, "Parker, stop!"

We all just sort of sat there stunned for a moment, staring back to where the dust was settling. Dad finally sighed and said, "Turn it around, Parker. We've got to go back."

"No, Parker, wait. Jeff, we absolutely can not go back there. Those other cars are not so far behind that we can dilly dally."

"Penny, those people in that car need our help. We can't turn our backs on them."

"We most certainly can! Those people were responsible for the kidnapping of your sons, don't forget, and they were attempting to stop our escape. Jeff, neither you nor I can afford to be captured. And we absolutely can not afford to be found in possession of the Ferenczi Diamond. It would be devastating not only to Tracy Enterprises and International Rescue, but would have political implications for both the United States and Great Britain."

Lady Penelope was one tough lady. She had all the right arguments, but my gut churned at the thought of just driving away.

Scott's pretty tough too. He didn't wait for Dad's answer, but instead slid open the door of the van. "All right, here's the action. Gordon and John, you're with me. Parker, you and the rest will get this car up to the top of the next hill. Wait until you see the other cars, then take off. You need to stay far enough ahead of them to keep them coming, but not close enough for them to catch up."

"No way in Hell you're leaving me behind, Scott." Alan was red-faced with anger. Virgil didn't say anything, but I knew he was just as determined.

"Damn right I'm not. I need you with Virgil. When you hook up with Brains, we're going to need Thunderbird Two to get us and the victims to safety. I need you to handle the winches if it's not safe to land.

"Son, I don't need to tell you the price of getting caught." Dad was pale and looking about a thousand years old.

"Don't worry, Father. We'll be careful."

"Sir, H'I don't know what good h'it'll do, but 'ere is the first aid kit." It was one of those useless little car kits with a couple of aspirin and a Band-Aid, but Scott took it from Parker's hand.

"Thanks, Parker. C'mon, fellas, let's get going." Scott took off at a good clip. I imagine it was as much to stop any further protest as it was to get to the crash victims. John and I trotted after him as Parker revved up the van and headed to safety.

We stuck with the road for a bit, but when it switched back, we cut cross country down the hill. Now that the van was gone, the early morning was silent except for some birds. John was a cross country runner and he quickly took the lead. It occurred to me that the real reason Scott didn't want Virg or Alan with us was because of their prison ordeal, so I made sure I didn't pull ahead of my eldest brother.

Like I said, Scott is tough, and he kept up with the pace that Johnny set. We made it back to where the SUV was lying on its side just in time to hear the roar of engines as the cars from the motorcade came racing down the hill.

Chapter Twenty Five: The Chase is On

VIRGIL

Scott was right. He needed me in Thunderbird Two. He was right. I was the best man for that job. Brains could hopefully handle transporting my green lady to us, but if there was any real flying, I needed to be at the controls. Scott was right, so why did I feel like I was abandoning him?

I sat in my nice safe seat and stared out the rearview window. My brothers had long since disappeared from sight, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. I couldn't help but remember those troop carriers. What chance would Scott and my brothers stand against a platoon of armed soldiers?

We reached the crest of the next hill, and Parker rolled the van to a stop. Shutting down the engine, he turned to Lady Penelope, "Milady, h'if I were to stand outside the car as if there were something wrong wif the h'engine, h'it might keep the 'oodlum's attention focused on us, as it were."

"Good idea, Parker." Dad responded, opening his door and hopping out. Alan and I looked at each other, and didn't hesitate. We were out of the van in a shot. Al moved to the front with Dad and Parker, but I moved to the back, straining to see the crashed SUV at the bottom of the gorge.

To my disappointment, the wreckage wasn't visible and neither were my brothers. A distant sound of engines brought my head up, and I saw a line of cars starting down the incline. At least three were those damn troop carriers. At my dad's short sharp whistle, I trotted back to the car and along with my brother, piled into the back.

"All right, Parker. We've got their attention, now let's get out of here." Dad was calm, but I could see he was pale.

I was feeling a little washed out myself. How could we be in this situation? We were supposed to be the good guys, and yet here we were, being chased by the Hungarian army. It seemed ridiculous.

I looked over at Alan. He sat with his forehead against the cool glass of the van's window. His eyes were closed, and he looked totally wiped out. Just seeing his exhaustion reminded me of my own, and I hoped we could wrap this up soon.

Parker kept the van moving fast. I really had to admire his skill. Not just anyone could climb into a strange rental van and get it to perform like a racecar. In minutes, we had gone from one hilltop to the next, and again Parker slowed to a stop.

My heart pounded as we waited to see if our bait had been taken. Finally, the first SUV cleared the rise behind us. "How many cars are we looking for, Virgil?"

My father's voice was soft, but I could hear the strain. "I counted five SUVs and three troop carriers."

I prayed as we waited. Four... five... six...

"C'mon, c'mon..." Alan was practically pleading, but only six vehicles topped the grade.

"Jeff, we must go." Lady P was as cool as a cucumber. "Parker, drive on."

"No! We have to go back!"

"Alan, quiet."

"Dad, those were troop carriers that didn't show up! They can't fight off that many men! We have to go back!"

My mouth had gone dry. I understood what Alan was saying, but I knew if my brothers had been captured, Thunderbird Two was our best bet for freeing them. Dad saw that clearly too. "Son, Scott will take care of his business, and we will take care of ours..."

"Look!" Parker pointed out the back window. Much to our mutual relief, the missing troop carriers crested the hill behind us.

"Parker, if you would be so good?"

"Yes, milady."

With a squeal of tires, Parker got us going again. Alan looked over at me, and let out a breath, shaking my head. My heart slowly returned to normal, and I figured we were pretty much home free, then a helicopter buzzed us so closely that we all instinctively winced.

Chapter Twenty Six: At the Crash Site

GORDON

At Scott's insistence, we all stayed back from the SUV, hiding in the bushes as the convoy of cars roared past. From where I crouched in the bushes, I couldn't see anything, but I could hear the cars roaring by on the road about one hundred feet away. None of them so much as slowed down, so it was obvious their buddy's wrecked car wasn't visible.

In the narrow gorge, sound seemed to bounce from wall to wall. I started to get up from my hiding place, but John signaled for me to remain where I was. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds I could distinguish the car sounds and I realized not all of them had passed by.

The sounds of a laboring truck echoed down the gorge long before it appeared. I risked raising my head to get a glimpse, and I saw two of the troop carriers lumbering by. From the sound of it, the one in the lead was missing on at least a couple of cylinders.

As soon as the trucks were gone, I headed for the wrecked SUV. John and Scott arrived at the wreck at the same time I did. Scott nodded his head, and John laced his fingers together to boost him up to the door which was facing the sky.

While Scott and John worked to get the door open, I looked for something sturdy to break out the windshield. It had shattered, but like all modern windshields, it had a thin plastine membrane that held the glass in position. We had special equipment on Thunderbird Two that would make short work of removing the glass, but that equipment was who knew where, and we needed to get to the victims quickly.

I found a piece of twisted metal that I could use as a crowbar and I went to work. Scott in the meantime had gotten the door open, and he had climbed down into the car. "Okay, we've got four victims here. John, you help Gordon. We're going to have to evacuate them through that windshield."

"Scott, we don't have any equipment. You really think we should move them? Shouldn't we wait for Thunderbird Two?"

"This one's dead. I don't think we can wait, Johnny. I can smell something burning. The car might go up, and it might not."

I finally got one corner of the windshield peeled up from the frame. I used my jacket to protect my hands, and started pulling on the glass. It was like peeling the shell off of a hardboiled egg, only a lot tougher. I was pulling with all my strength and it hardly moved. John joined me, and it got easier. Still, even with us both, it took a lot of muscle to get that windshield out of the way.

"About time. John, this guy has a broken femur, but otherwise I think he's just shaken up. Help him out, and get him away from this hunk of junk."

The guy was conscious, but seemed pretty dazed. John mumbled some Hungarian at him, but he just stared out into space. I helped him get the man out of the car and together we moved him to a grassy area about ten yards away.

"Gordon?"

I turned back to Scott. He was holding a woman in his arms. I trotted over to relieve him of his burden. The woman was tiny, maybe a hundred pounds at most. I carried her over where John was tending the other guy and as gently as I could laid her down. She was unconscious which was probably for the best. She had a large, painful looking bruise on her forehead, and bruising down her neck which probably meant whiplash.

I looked back at the wreck when I heard a loud popping sound. The car was starting to smolder, and it seemed pretty obvious it was going to start burning soon. Scott already had the third victim in a fireman's carry, so the only one left was the one who hadn't made it. It would have been nice to get the dead person out, but we had learned the hard way that you can't risk your life to save a life already lost.

I turned back to the lady and found myself staring down the barrel of a very large gun.

Chapter Twenty Seven: A Game of Chicken

VIRGIL

The helicopter shot by, then banked sharply to come back at us. I got a good look, and saw it was a small two-seater. Probably the closest police chopper available. I felt a small measure of relief. While dangerous, especially if the pilot was gutsy, it wasn't armed like a military chopper would be.

It flew overhead again, then spun to face us and dropped down in the middle of the road. Dad had been murmuring something to Parker. I grabbed on to my seat when instead of slowing, Parker accelerated the van in an insane game of chicken. The copter stood its ground for a moment then leapt into the sky.

Alan laughed, but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. Sure enough, the copter came at us again. It flew maybe ten feet off of the ground. When it caught up with us, the pilot started easing down and to the side. "Parker, he's going to try to spin us out!"

"We'll see about that!" Parker's voice was a low growl.

I looked over at my brother. Alan no longer looked tired. He was having the time of his life. He watched the helicopter approach with a feral gleam in his eye, and when the runners were even with the rear of the van, he shouted, "Now!"

Parker swerved the van toward the helicopter, and the startled pilot abruptly pulled up, almost losing control of his ship. Alan laughed. "That's showing 'im!"

I wasn't so happy about it. If the helicopter crashed, what then? Did we stop and render aid? Were we going to leave a trail of destruction in our wake? "Alan..."

"Son, settle down. Keep in mind that pilot is only doing his job. I'd like him to be able to go home to his family when this is all done."

Dad's quiet statement brought a new perspective to the picture. I could see the surprise on Alan's face. It was all too easy to turn this whole mess into an 'us against them' situation. The people chasing us weren't bad guys. Most likely only a very few had any idea that we had been kidnapped.

I could see these thoughts running through my brother's mind. Alan might be impulsive, but he was a decent guy. He nodded. "I know what you mean, Father, but I don't think that guy is going to let up. How are we going to keep him from running us off the road?"

"We'll just have to rely on Parker here."

"H'I'll do my best, sir. But H'I do h'appreciate 'avin h'extra eyes 'elpin' me."

I'd noticed before that Parker's cockney accent tended to get thicker when he was under stress. Being extra eyes for Parker was something I'd been doing anyway, and now I saw that the copter pilot had regained his nerve and was once again approaching the van. This time, he was about fifty feet up and directly behind us. I watched as he slowly dropped closer.

It only took me a moment to realize what he was planning. "Parker, I think he's going to try hitting us on the roof."

"Oh, 'e is, is 'e? Mr. Virgil, h'if you would be so kind, please watch 'im and let me know when 'e is right above us."

I wasn't sure what Parker was planning, but I watched very carefully. "He's at 25 feet... 20... 10... Now, Parker!"

Parker hit the brakes hard, and the helicopter overshot us, almost hitting the ground in his surprise. Parker immediately accelerated, and as the copter bounced up into the air we raced under him. Parker cut it close and I had flinched back as we almost hit the tail rotor.

The pilot of the copter apparently had enough. As we raced away, I saw the copter hovering in place over the road. I was a bit surprised, but my surprise turned to fear as the shadow of a much larger ship covered the van.

Chapter Twenty Eight: Peril

GORDON

It's amazing how fast a person's mouth can go dry. Mine was feeling like the Gobi desert. It never would have occurred to me to check a crash victim for weapons. The woman who had seemed so tiny was looking a whole lot bigger to me at the moment. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see both John and Scott concentrating on their victims, oblivious to my predicament.

"Uh, guys?"

The woman was sitting up and at the sound of my voice shoved the gun forward until the barrel was resting on the bridge of my nose. It was taking up all of my attention, forcing me to look cross-eyed.

"Shit. Okay, just stay calm. John, tell her we're just trying to help." Scott's composure kept me hopeful. I've always had great faith in his ability to help me out of any jam.

John said something unintelligible, presumably in Hungarian. The lady replied in the same language, her snarl telling me more than the words could. "She says we're nothing but filthy jewel thieves and we were more likely looking for their wallets."

One of the other victims started to moan, but the iron lady never wavered. She didn't look away and the gun remained rock steady in her hand. I swallowed hard. This woman was a obviously a pro. If I made any move to escape, I was going to end up with a very large hole in my head.

Scott tried again. "Okay, ask her what she wants."

"Scott?"

"Johnny, she's not going to believe anything we tell her, so there's no point in arguing. These people all need help, and they aren't going to get it if we're caught up in a Mexican stand off. Just go ahead and ask her what she wants."

I couldn't help but think of our scouting trip to the mansion. John's Hungarian had resulted in a couple of misunderstandings with the caretaker who had showed us around. A slip of the tongue here could have results that I in particular would find tragic.

I listened with growing apprehension as John and the iron lady got into what seemed to be a heated discussion. I wanted to interrupt. I had been in a crouch when the lady had pulled the gun, and my knees were killing me, and my back was starting to ache. I didn't dare move for fear of being shot, but I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a week, and I was pretty damn tired.

At a pause in the argument, I spoke up. "Uh, John? What's she saying? How long is this going to go on?"

"She says we're under arrest. She wants us to give up our weapons. I'm trying to convince her we aren't armed, but she's not buying it."

"All right, tell her I'm the only one with a gun." Scott said. I saw movement, and realized the Scott had pulled his gun and was setting it on the ground in front of him.

Iron Lady snarled something, and John moved to get the gun and hand it to her. As he put the gun within her reach, she started yammering something, not letting John get a word in edgewise.

I kept staring at the gun pointed at my head. It hadn't wavered an inch. John's voice was edged with anger as he got his chance to talk back to my captor. John finished what he was saying, but Iron Lady replied in a voice as cold as death. She punctuated her remark by pulling the hammer back on her gun.

"She says the guy you were working on has a couple of pairs of handcuffs in his rear pocket. She wants me to get them and handcuff you and Gordon."

Before Scott could respond, Iron Lady started jabbering again. When she finished, John didn't reply to her, instead addressing Scott directly. "She says there's a radio in the car. She wants me to go get it."

Scott was terse. "Go get the radio first."

John stood up and made as if to move toward the still smoldering car. Iron Lady stopped him with a hiss.

"She says handcuffs first."

I swallowed hard at that. I'd had experience with handcuffs before, and I didn't want to be restrained like that again. Scott's voice took on a certain hardness as he replied. "Tell her the handcuffs aren't an option. We'll do whatever else she wants, but we are here to help and we can't do that with our hands tied."

John stumbled a bit over his translation, but she seemed to understand what he was saying. She pushed with the gun, forcing my head back a bit as she spat out her reply.

"She says the only options are the handcuffs or she shoots Gordon. Scott, she means it."

"So do I." Scott said with finality. I held my breath. I didn't think she was bluffing. I could see her eyes move over to Scott, then narrow as they turned back to me. She was going to do it, I could tell.

Chapter Twenty Nine: A Sight For Sore Eyes

VIRGIL

The amazing thing was that until she passed overhead, I hadn't heard Thunderbird Two's engines. Her shadow played across the van and a good part of the surrounding landscape. She moved off ahead a good distance, then spun around and dropped to earth in the middle of the road.

I realized my dad was on his communicator talking to Brains, but my heart and mind were full of the sight of my beautiful green lady. It was very rare for me to see her in flight. Almost as soon as she touched down, she began to rise up on her struts, every movement so smooth as to be seamless.

Brains and Parker had timed it perfectly, the pod ramp hitting the ground just in time for Parker to drive the van in. He barely had the van stopped before I leapt out and ran for the cockpit. The elevator arrived just as Alan, Penny and Dad did, and all four of us pushed forward to get aboard.

When we reached the cockpit level, I again took the lead, my need to get there lending speed to my feet. Brains was talking into the mike as we arrived, and without breaking his concentration on what he was saying, he slid out of my seat.

I slammed into my seat and immediately started the power up to get aloft. I don't know what it was, but I was sure Scott was in trouble, and needed me. I could feel it as almost a pain in my gut. It was a feeling I have had before, and I could not ignore it.

I listened to what Brains was saying with half an ear. He was using the translation program loaded into the onboard computer, and he had to speak very slowly and carefully so that he didn't stutter. The gist of it was the cop in the chopper was convinced we were jewel thieves and was trying to convince Brains to turn us over.

It was obvious that the pilot had no clue that we were part of International Rescue. He clearly considered Brains a good guy, and I could tell he was frustrated at his inability to make it clear that the rest of us were desperados. Brains was being deliberately vague which didn't help matters.

I couldn't take the time to let the cop and Brains sort it out. My brothers needed me. I knew that as sure as I knew my name was Virgil.

I looked over at my dad and Penny. "You need to sit down and buckle up. Brains, you too. Alan, get to the forward winch bay."

It was just natural for me to take command when we were aboard Thunderbird Two. I checked my status board, with an ear open for the sound of harnesses being buckled. I opened the intercom to the rest of the ship so Alan and Parker would hear. "Okay, we're lifting off now."

I took my green lady into the air. Tired as I was, it still felt as if I were blended with my ship. I rose up into the air and pointed myself toward that gorge. I noted that the convoy of cars had caught up with us and people had spilled out onto the roadway to gawk at my mighty ship. I had to smile. Although I was already too high to make out any faces, I could just imagine their shock and awe at seeing one of the fabled Thunderbirds.

I flipped a switch and put in a call to my brother. "Thunderbird Two to Scott. Come in, Scott."

That twinge in my gut got a little tighter when there was no response. I sensed movement behind me as my father said, "Try again, son."

"Thunderbird Two to Scott. Can you hear me, Scott?"

Again there was silence. I pushed the throttle open.

Chapter Thirty: International Rescue In Action

GORDON

It happened too quickly for me to react.

"Thunderbird Two to Scott. Come in, Scott."

Iron Lady twisted to see where the voice had come from. It was a major mistake on her part. Even though the gun remained steady, the sudden movement obviously aggravated her injured neck. She went white and her eyelids fluttered as she started to pass out. She squeezed the trigger.

I have to hand it to Scott. Despite three days in captivity, his reactions were razor sharp. While the danger was still registering with me, he was moving. He hit me like a ton of bricks, knocking me out of the way just the gun exploded in my ear.

I just laid there taking stock. Scott's voice was anxious in my ear. "Gordon? Gordy? Talk to me!"

"Scott?" I used a weak little voice.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here. Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Scott..."

"I'm right here Gordy. Where does it hurt? Gordy?"

"Scott..." I practically whispered it so that he leaned in close. "Scott, you need to go on a diet, man."

He blinked, then realizing what I'd said, he sat back on his heels, disgusted. "John, did you get the guns?"

"Yeah, Scott we need to stabilize her neck before we move her anywhere."

I sighed, picking myself up off the ground. Back to work. As I passed Scott, he reached up and smacked me in the head. I just grinned.

John went back to his victim. I paused, there was a deep rumble like distant thunder rolling down the hillside. John said casually, "Scott, you might want to tell Virg you're all right."

I had to hand it to Scott. He didn't jump at all, but I knew he was startled by Johnny's comment.

Personally, I felt sorry for Al. Virg was hell on wheels if he thought Scott was in any danger. I figured there was at least a fifty-fifty chance Virgil had left Dad, Alan and Lady Penelope behind in his rush to get here.

The distant thunder approached rapidly, and before Scott could get his communicator up, Thunderbird Two appeared overhead. "Scott to Thunderbird Two. You guys okay?"

"Scott! Yeah, we're fine. Why didn't you answer? Are you all okay?"

"We're fine, Virg. Listen, there's no place to set down here. Alan's going to need to send down the rescue pod. We have three victims. We'll need full EMT kits and backboards. Oh, and send down a couple of fire extinguishers."

"FAB"

While I listened to my brothers converse, I was checking out Iron Lady to see if she had any injuries other than the whiplash and concussion. This time, I kept my eye on her as I felt her limbs. Just like before, she came conscious without any sound or betraying movement. I had a feeling that I was very lucky to be alive. This woman was tougher than tough.

She was lying on her back so her field of vision was filled with Thunderbird Two hovering a couple hundred feet above us. I watched as her eyes widened slightly. She slid her eyes to look at me. She said something that I had no way to understand.

John looked over and said something. The only part of it I understood was "Thunderbird." She looked again at me, then up at Two. Her breath caught in her throat. I looked up, but it was only the rescue pod being lowered. I turned back to her, realizing I had made another mistake, but she hadn't produced a second gun or knife or anything. She was just looking a bit consternated.

I could just imagine what was going through her mind. She looked again at me, and I just shrugged, smiling.

Scott was on his communicator directing Virgil to make sure the rescue pod set down where he wanted it. I moved over to Scott's victim. His shirt was bloody. Scott had already pulled it back, and I could see a large gash down the man's chest. He was pale from the blood loss, and I didn't like the blue tinge to his lips. I checked his airway. It was clear, but his breathing was very shallow.

The rescue pod hit the ground with a gentle thump that brought my head up. Alan jumped out carrying the large EMT kit. I waved him over as Scott pulled out the backboards. "I need oxygen here."

John reached into the kit almost before Al had it open. We all fell into a pattern we were familiar with. Our training made a lot of our actions almost second nature. With a practiced eye, Alan realized the guy I was working on was the most seriously injured. He and I worked as a team, and by the time John had his victim loaded, we had ours on the backboard and aboard a stretcher.

As we loaded our guy onto the rescue pod, a thought occurred to me. "Who's manning the winch?"

"Nosy."

The rescue pod wasn't all that roomy, and we knew we were going to need two trips to evacuate all three victims. Alan reached for the intercom to tell Parker to bring us up, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "John, one of us better stay here with Scott."

John grinned. "I pulled her fangs. Don't worry, Scott can handle her."

Alan frowned looking out at Iron Lady. I looked and could understand his confusion. She looked very small and frail lying there with her neck in a brace strapped onto the backboard. I knew better. She was as dangerous as Lady Penelope. I threw John a look of disgust and started to get out of the pod.

"Oh, okay. I'll stay. I think I'll tell her Scott has herpes or something." With that John hopped out and sauntered over to Scott's side. Al and I exchanged grins, and Al gave the signal to raise the pod.

When we reached the winch bay, Dad and Brains were waiting there with Parker, so we got the pod off loaded quickly. Al and I moved our victim to the infirmary and got him set up with the monitors. Brains the wonder engineer also has a medical degree, so he took over the care of the two men.

Alan and I went back to winch bay, getting there just as the rescue pod returned from its second trip. John and Scott lifted Iron Lady's stretcher onto the gurney. I was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"What did you tell her, John?"

"I told her the truth."

"What, that Scott has herpes?"

"Hey!"

We both ignored Scott's remark. "No. I told her that she had almost killed an International Rescue agent."

"What? What do you mean, John?" Dad entered the conversation. We could ignore Scott, but Dad was a different matter.

John frowned, not wanting to go into it. Scott bailed him out. "Dad, can it wait for the debrief?"

Scott had a way of making things normal, if our lives could be considered normal. Just by assuming there would be a debriefing made the rest of it all seem like business as usual. I could see a certain tension leave my father's shoulders.

"All right, son. Let's get this lady to the infirmary and get underway."

I think I breathed deep, really deep for the first time in a week.

Chapter Thirty One: Safe At Last

VIRGIL

"Scott to Thunderbird Two. You guys okay?"

I had been concentrating on my flying, but when I heard my brother's voice I jumped a foot.

"Scott! Yeah, we're fine. Why didn't you answer? Are you all okay?" I was immediately ashamed at the whine in my voice. If Scott heard it, he didn't let on. He was business as usual, telling me what he needed to get the job done.

I signed off with him and called to Alan telling him to get an EMT kit and backboards. Dad and Brains left to be what help they could leaving me alone in the cockpit with Penny. When Scott called, giving directions, I got so caught up in the actual rescue that I forgot she was even there.

When the all clear came through, I let out a deep sigh, and boosted Thunderbird Two straight up. I didn't know whether they would send anything more dangerous than the police helicopter, but I wanted to be high enough to have plenty of maneuvering room if they did.

After a while, Dad appeared in the cockpit. Penny immediately pulled him into a whispered conference. I tried to give them their privacy, but I needed a direction. I waited for as long as I could, then interrupted. "Dad? What are we going to do with those people?"

"You let me worry about that. You've done a fine job, Virgil, but I'm taking over command now."

It took a moment for me to grasp what he was saying. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Dad said it lightly, but he stood there next to me with an expectant look on his face.

I couldn't help frowning. "Uh..."

With a sigh, he spelled it out for me. "Virgil, I am relieving you of command. Son, you're tired and hungry. Your brothers are down in the living quarters eating the lunch that Brains brought. Go join them. That's an order."

It was said kindly, but I knew he wouldn't permit any refusal. Still my mind cast about for any excuse not to turn my ship over to him. It's not that I didn't trust him, it wasn't that at all. It was just that... Well, I couldn't come up with anything and so I was forced to move aside and let my father take over. Still, I couldn't bring myself to leave the cockpit, just in case he needed me for anything.

Dad suffered my presence for all of about ten seconds before he turned in his seat and said threateningly, "Virgil, now."

I slunk out of the cockpit and made my way down to the living quarters. Scott, John and Gordon all looked up at my entrance. Alan was already asleep in one of the bunks. "Whoa. Who's flying the ship?"

"Shut up, John." Now that I was out of the pilot chair, my exhaustion had caught up with me.

"Come on, sit down. I saved you some of the soup and a couple of sandwiches."

I could hear the exhaustion in Scott's voice. Despite that, he was still looking out for me. I had to smile. "Thanks."

I sat down as Scott reached across to Gordon and pulled his bowl of soup over to me, leaving my younger brother with the spoon halfway to his mouth and a look of surprise in his eyes. "Hey! I was eating that!"

"Not anymore, you're not."

John watched the interplay quietly and just as quietly picked up his plate and slurped his tongue loudly over the surface of his two sandwiches. Seeing the danger, Gordon took his sandwich and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, puffing his cheeks out like a deranged chipmunk.

Thinking he was safe, John put his plate back on the table. Scott's hand shot out like a cobra, snatching the plate and pulling it over. Staring John right in the eye, my big brother pulled off the top layer of bread, and flipped one open-faced sandwich over on the other making a thick dagwood for me.

I backed Scott's play as always, staring at John with a look identical to Scott's I picked up the sandwich and took a bite, a big bite.

John sat back with disgust and turned to Gordon. "Remind me again. Why did we rescue them?"

Scott leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and stretching out his legs. "You didn't rescue us."

I almost gave it away. His outrageous statement had brought looks of astonishment to both John and Gordon's faces. I could barely keep a straight face as I adopted a pose identical to Scott's.

"You are delusional. If it wasn't for us, you guys would still be in that dungeon." John's voice had gone all quiet, as sure sign he was getting mad.

I saw Gordon take a quick glance at our blond brother. He was probably wondering if he was on the winning side. He entered into the fray with a different tack. "Damn, here we wasted all that time. We could have stayed home playing monopoly."

Scott turned his gimlet stare on Gordon. "YOU would have been better off staying home."

It was obvious the statement had some meaning for my younger brother. I wondered what had happened on that rescue. Gordon's ears turned bright pink, but he replied calmly enough. "Well, I came to rescue Alan, not you guys, anyway."

A sleepy comment came from the bed. "Thanks, Gordy."

"You're welcome, Al." Gordon said it pointedly.

"Yes, Alan, you're welcome. At least he has some manners." John was still doing that Mount Etna thing. I wondered if it was wise to goad an eruption.

Scott probably thought the same thing, because he suddenly reached out for his coffee cup. Lifting it with his pinkie finger held high, he said. "I ooze with manners. Just look."

John tried to hold on to his ire, but he never could resist Scott when he went goofy. Trying unsuccessfully not to smile, he said, "You ooze alright."

"Yep, that's me, Mr. Ooze. I ooze with all sorts of stuff. Charm, manners, loveableness..." Scott accompanied his remark with a dorky voice and a face that had cracked us up since we were kids. John didn't have a chance.

With a final snicker, Gordon got up and boosted himself up to the bunk above Alan's. He settled in with his back to us. Scott waited for a couple of minutes, then got up and moved over to the bunk. Murmuring softly, he pulled Gordon so that he was lying on his back.

I thought that action summed up my big brother better than a thousand words. Having been through a hellish three days, he still was looking out for us. Gordon had a bad back that would stiffen up on him. With just that simple action, Scott showed how much he cared.

John hit the sack a few minutes after that muttering as he went. "We did rescue you guys."

As he settled in, Scott called out softly, "Thanks, John."

We both watched as our brothers slept. I sensed Scott shifting next to me, and I looked over. He cocked his head, saying, "Three down, one to go."

"Sorry, Scott. Not going to happen. Why don't you go lie down?"

"Why don't you?"

I looked him in the eye and spoke slowly and clearly so that he would understand. "Scott, DAD is flying my baby."

He looked at me with pity. "Virgil, who taught you to fly?"

"That's different."

Scott looked at me with a cocked eyebrow. I knew it wasn't logical, but I couldn't help the way I felt. "Oh, like you would be okay with him flying Thunderbird One."

"Of course I would. He's our father. He taught us everything we know. He can fly Thunderbird One anytime he wants to."

"Yeah, right."

"I'd have to kill him, of course, but he could fly her."

I was so tired, and he said it so matter-of-factly that I almost missed it. Went what he said finally penetrated I snorted a laugh. "God, I'm tired."

"Yeah, so am I. What do you say we hit the sack?"

On one level, I knew what he was doing, playing on my need to protect him, saying he could sleep if I did. It didn't matter if it was manipulation, it worked. "Yeah, okay."

I stretched out on a lower bunk, with Scott in the bunk above. I didn't think I could sleep, but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I started to drift away, comforted by the sounds of my brothers around me, Thunderbird Two's lullaby of power a bass rumble under the bed.

For the first time in several days, I felt safe. It felt good.

To the Top

Epilogue

GORDON

I grabbed my towel as I slipped my feet into the rubber sandals and headed outside. As I came out on the balcony, I paused, seeing my brothers splashing each other in the pool.

We had returned from Hungary just two days ago, but already the whole sorry situation was starting to fade like a bad dream. At least for me. I never really held on to bad memories. I hoped my brothers could forget about it too.

While we had slept onboard Thunderbird Two, Dad had pulled a rabbit out of his hat. He threatened to go to the press with the story of the kidnapping. Halasz had backed down real quick under the threat. We were given permission to offload our patients at a hospital in Budapest. My brothers and I were all so exhausted that none of us woke up during the transfer.

It was agreed that we would return the diamond necklace, and Penny had given it into the keeping of the Iron Lady just before she was carried out. The government came up with a story that International Rescue had saved the necklace in the course of a rescue and had taken the evil perpetrators off to an undisclosed prison.

In a way, it was true. I imagined Parker was wishing he was in a nice safe prison. Lady Penelope was a spooky lady, and I sure wouldn't want to cross her.

I came out of my reverie to see Virgil join Scott in an attempt to splash Alan so hard he'd drown. I felt a grin form. Gordon Tracy to the rescue! I barreled down the steps and at full speed jumped high, executing a perfect cannonball. Scott and Virgil might be tough, but they were in MY element now!