Tracy Island was shrouded in darkness, the glint of moonlight on the water played over the waves as they rolled onto the shore. Even the solar garden lights had ceased to illuminate the pool and garden paths. Inside the house, its occupants were all asleep, deep within their REM cycles, dreaming of things they wouldn't remember when awake.

Thousands of miles overhead, Thunderbird Five sat in her geostationary orbit, the main clocks set to South Pacific time. The lights in the primary monitor room were dimmed, but not extinguished. The volume of the radios was down to low and the sole occupant watched closely at a weather radar image of the southern states of the US.

John Tracy, like his family, should have been asleep. But he had seen the conditions deteriorating, had heard the forecasts and knew there was a more than even chance International Rescue could be needed. So he sat and waited, patiently watching the storms brewing.

The air had the glassy quality heraldic of an approaching storm. The leaves on the trees hung lifeless in the still air. A sense of unease and urgency quickened the steps of the three students as they strode up the path.

A fringe of trees, massively broad in their age yet stunted by the pervasive wind, circled a large field at the summit of the hill. Sweat was wiped from brows as they ran across the grassy clearing, their approach silencing the drone from unseen insects.

Dan, the tallest of the three, led the charge through a line of trees to the lookout on the other side. The vista before them revealed rolling hills, craggy peaks on both sides and the city in the distance. But it was the impending storm that held their attention. Dark menacing clouds lay low above the ground, roiled high into the sky, building into a rapidly moving and tumultuous thunderhead. The horizon had the unmistakable green haze of hail and sheet lightening sporadically illuminated the clouds from the inside.

"Awesome," Ritchie breathed, absentmindedly pushing his glasses more firmly on his nose. "We are so going to ace this project."

"If we get the photos," Dan said as he wrangled a large camera from his backpack and checked the settings.

"Well, let's be quick about it," Kate set up a tripod as a sudden gust of wind buffeted the trio and set the foliage behind them rustling. "I don't want to be caught here when that hits."

The others agreed and they set to work capturing images of the impending storm on a digital photo chip. But despite working as quickly as they could, the storm moved faster than they had imagined it would. Lighting strikes peppered the ground, the wind gusts howled relentlessly ahead of the storm and day turned to night as they loaded their gear into their backpacks. A more powerful wind gust caught Dan's cap, whipped it off his head, sent it swirling first one way then back and over the safety railing. It also caught Kate's lighter form, sent her staggering before she could regain her balance.

A loud crackling ripped through the air, a blue light lit the sky brighter than day and thunder boomed loud enough to shake the ground. Kate's scream was lost in the sound as a nearby tree exploded in a shower of sparks and flame, catapulting branches into neighbouring trees. One large branch narrowly missed Ritchie, hit the ground with enough force to crack the concrete. The ground shook again as the tree, one of the biggest and oldest on the hilltop, tilted in seeming slow motion, arcing toward the three students. They scattered as the tree toppled, its root ball lifting from the ground in a massive jumble of roots, dirt and leaf debris.

The trio thought they were lucky to escape with little more than a few scratches, but fortune turned sour as the ground shook under the weight of the tree, lurched and began a free fall fifty feet to the steep slope below, taking the tree, lookout platform and students with it.

They seemed to fall in slow motion, the image of the ground rushing up to them imprinted on their retinas, yet it happened so quickly the brain was unable to process the event until they landed. A sudden thump and they were tumbling end over down the slope, crashing through the underbrush, small bushes and rocks reaching out to them as they passed. Eventually friction won over gravity and they ended their headlong rush on a small rocky outcrop.

They lay where they had fallen, bruised and bloodied but miraculously alive. For an instant they lay insensate as debris settled around them, but awareness gradually returned.

Ritchie lay looking up at the lowering clouds overhead and took stock. He was covered in bruises and scratches with a particularly nasty looking gash on his forearm, but he was pretty sure he was okay otherwise. His glasses had fallen off along with one of his shoes but his backpack was still hooked over his shoulder. He looked around for Kate and Dan; saw only crumbled concrete and broken plants around him, a vast nothingness in front where he lay near the edge of the rock.

He heard rustling and moaning nearby, looked but couldn't see who it was.

"Kate? Dan? Are you guys okay?"

"Ritchie?"

It was a faint voice, but unmistakably Kate. He turned his head this way and that, unable to see her.

"Kate? Where are you?" He called again.

"Over here."

He heard her voice a short distance away, behind him and slightly higher up the slope. He picked his way carefully over to her, carefully because he couldn't see clearly and was afraid he may trip and send himself careening over the edge.

He found Kate tangled in a crop of bushes, mostly unhurt, at least as far as Ritchie could tell. She grabbed his hand as a lifeline, used it to prise herself to a sitting position away from the branches that clutched at her clothes and hair.

"Where's Dan?" She asked.

Before Ritchie could reply, the sound of shifting dirt and tumbling stones preceded a low groan.

"Sounds like him," Ritchie said. "I'll go see. Are you okay?"

"My leg hurts, but check on Dan, I'll wait here."

Ritchie nodded, inched his way across to where he found Dan. He was thirty feet away, face coated in dirt and concrete dust, a five foot slab of concrete on his chest.

"Dan, you okay?"

"My shoulder and arm hurts. Help me get this thing off me, it's hard to breathe."

With Ritchie pulling and Dan pushing with his good hand, they tipped the slab off him. Ritchie immediately saw why Dan's arm hurt.

"Looks like you've dislocated your shoulder."

"Thought so. I've done it before and it feels the same now. I heard Kate before, is she okay?"

"Hurt her leg; don't know what's wrong with it yet."

Dan clutched his arm to his body as Ritchie helped him to stand and together they made their way to where Kate was sitting, still among the bushes. They had just settled beside her when the first rain drops fell.

"Sorry guys," Dan said miserably. "It was my idea to come up here but I didn't know the road was closed. Otherwise we could have got out of here before this happened."

"It's not your fault, Dan," Kate hunched her back against the increasing rain. "We all decided it was a good idea. And it was. This was just...I don't know, I never imagined something like this would happen."

"Looks like we'll be here at least until this storm blows over," Ritchie rummaged in his backpack, brought out a plastic tarpaulin. "Here, if we sit on one edge of this, it should be long enough to cover our backs and heads." He looked at the stunned faces before him and shrugged. "I was a boy scout in a previous life."

They had only just settled under the tarp when the heavens opened. Rain came down in torrents; the wind lashed at the bushes and pushed the rain horizontal. Then water came sluicing down the slope behind them, across the ledge and over the edge. They all harboured fears of being washed off along with the loose dirt, but no-one mentioned them.

"I lost my backpack," Dan yelled to be heard over the howling of the wind and the lashing of the rain.

"My mobile was in it. Either of you got your phones? We can call for help."

"I've got mine," Kate pulled the latest smart phone from her pocket, fiddled with the buttons.

"Damn, no service. Don't know if it's the storm or we're just in a black spot."

Ritchie pulled his back pack closer, rummaged inside and brought out something the others had never seen before. "I've got something better. It's a radio."

"What?" Dan was incredulous. "Who uses radios these days?"

Ritchie smiled.

"International Rescue."

Thunderbird One slowed her speed as she dropped through the thick cloud cover, stretching her wings as if to embrace the torrential downpour. Inside the cockpit, Scott Tracy frowned in concentration as he made minute adjustments to the yaw and pitch, keeping the craft steady in the wind gusts and downdrafts. The rain pelted the superheated hull, hissed into steam, tested the secret alloy's expansion properties to the limit. The thick cloud cover and the torrential downpour turned day into premature night and visibility into a mere thought.

Scott slowed Thunderbird One to a relative crawl as he approached the cliff face and activated the thermal imaging camera. The cliff appeared on the screen in various shades of green, and he scanned the area for the heat signatures of the students.

He saw them on the screen, huddled together at the exact co-ordinates John had relayed. He wanted to send the remote camera out, but the wind was too strong, the risk of crashing it too high. He set the spotlights on and contacted Thunderbird Five instead.

"John, are you still in contact with those kids?" He asked when John had acknowledged the call.

"F.A.B., Scott. They heard you arrive and can see your lights."

"Any more on their injuries?"

"Negative, one dislocated shoulder, one possibly broken leg, multiple abrasions and cuts."

"What's the latest on the wind?"

"Radar shows the storm is passing so the wind should drop off soon. There's a whole line of storms coming up fast behind it though."

"F.A.B., John. Can you patch me through?"

He heard a click then the sound of rain on heavy plastic filtered through the radio.

"This is Thunderbird One, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, hi, this is Ritchie."

"Are you people okay at the moment?"

"Cold and wet. Dan and Kate are in some pain though. They're really pale and breathing fast."

"Can they walk?"

"Dan can if I help him. Kate can't, she's hurt her leg."

"Our rescue equipment will be here soon and we'll get you off there. Sit tight, I'm going to check the terrain above."

"Okay mister."

Scott flicked off the radio and sent Thunderbird One slowly traversing up the cliff. The powerful lights illuminated the scene, revealing the extent of the damage. The rock had fractured at the top of the cliff and a long raw scar showed where the entire lookout and several trees had slid down the slope. Looking at it now, Scott was amazed at how lucky the students had been. The ledge they were on was the only one he could see, with steep drops on either side and below.

He activated the radio again and contacted Virgil.

"Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird One. What's your ETA?"

"We're five minutes away. What's the situation, Scott?"

"The kids are stuck on a ledge about twenty feet by fifty. Ground above looks to be fairly stable. The wind shear is making conditions dicey but we have a short opportunity to get them out before the next storm hits. The winds are dropping so we should be able to use the rescue capsule. Two of the kids are mobile, one isn't."

"F.A.B. Scott. Be with you in four and one half minutes. Thunderbird Two out."

Scott could see Thunderbird Two approaching on his radar, so he contacted first Ritchie then John and updated them. By the time Virgil steered his great ship into position, the rain had eased to a light drizzle, but Scott was happier to note that the wind had indeed abated enough to make the use of the rescue capsule safe.

Inside the winch bay in Thunderbird Two's nose cone, Gordon had finished the checks and Alan was in the capsule ready to be lowered down to the ledge. Neither spoke, focused as they were on their role in the upcoming mission.

"We're in position. Are you ready down there?" Virgil's voice broke through their thoughts.

"F.A.B." Gordon said.

"F.A.B." Alan echoed.

"I'll hold her steady here, go when ready."

Gordon opened the winch bay doors and the cold air rushed in. Below, the light had improved with the thinner cloud cover, but Scott was still illuminating the area with Thunderbird One's spotters.

"Lower away, Gordon," Alan's voice came through Gordon's earphones.

"Lowering... now," he replied and set the winch to slow.

The great winch lowered the rescue capsule and once it was clear of Thunderbird Two's protection, the breeze caught it, set it swaying. Alan held on inside, assessed the angle of swing, found it acceptable.

"Rack it up a couple of clicks, Gordon."

"F.A.B. Powering up...now."

A rogue gust of wind caught the capsule, sent it spinning and swaying wildly. The winch computer sensed the motion and locked down automatically, leaving the capsule dangling like a spider on a web.

"Alan! Are you okay?" Gordon watched as the capsule careened below.

"I'm okay," was the welcome response. "Bit of a wild ride but it's stopping now." The weight of the capsule helped slow the gyrations and it was once again hanging docilely at the end of the cable. "Okay, Gordon. Let's go again."

Gordon checked the computer and its row of green lights, started the controls again.

"Ahead slow," he said.

The cable played out slowly then jerked to a sudden stop.

"Whoa, amber lights," Gordon alerted them to a problem with the computer. "I'll run a fast check."

But at that moment, the winch started up. Cable rushed out unchecked at full speed, then jerked to a halt.

"Gordon! What the hell's going on?" Alan's voice was urgent as he picked himself off the floor of the capsule where the sudden deceleration had forced him.

"What happened with the winch?" Scott demanded.

Gordon looked at the string of red lights in dismay, then olfactory synapses fired and he sniffed the air.

"Guys, I think the motor's burnt out."

"Say again, Gordon," Scott said as he watched the capsule carefully.

"I've got red lights on the alarms..."

"Copy the red up here too," Virgil chimed in from Two's cockpit.

"...and I can smell it," Gordon closed the discussion definitively.

"Brilliant," Alan said, sarcasm evident in his tone. "How are we going to get those kids now? And more importantly, how am I supposed to get out of here?"

Scott thought quickly, came up with a decision.

"Virgil, there's a large clearing at the top of the cliff. Head up there, and descend until the capsule is near the ground. Alan, you jump out, clear the area so Virgil can land, then we can work out a strategy."

"F.A.B."

Thunderbird Two rose slowly and carefully manoeuvred her great bulk until the capsule was a few feet off the ground. Alan jumped, rolled and sped to the edge of the clearing.

"Clear to land, Virgil," he said.

The capsule tipped sideways, the winch cable coiling on top of it as Two settled on the ground. Scott landed Thunderbird One beside her and headed over to Two's cockpit, hard on Alan's heels.

Virgil swivelled his seat around as they entered, Alan threw himself onto the seat next to Gordon leaving the other passenger seat for Scott, who remained standing. He keyed in the commands for a conference call with Thunderbird Five and Base and the images of John and their father filled the split computer screen.

"John, can you contact those kids? Tell them we'll be back soon," Scott said.

"Already done, in fact they contacted me. Wanted to know if everything is okay."

Scott nodded, glanced at his father, who took control.

"Gordon, how bad is the winch?"

"She's completely done, Dad. I shut it down and the smell went, but I did check around that there were no fires."

"Virgil?" Jeff asked.

"That's confirmed. No fire hazard."

"Alright. We'll worry about the whys and wherefores later. For now, what are our options? Can we do a manual evac?"

"Negative," Scott said folding his arms across his chest. "We have the manpower but we don't have the time. We'd have to make a minimum of two trips down and back. There's a line of storms coming up fast and according to the local radar, they're stronger than the last one."

"The conditions are worse than first thought," John announced. "The next storm is moving more rapidly, with stronger wind gusts, hail and a possibility of tornados. The students have deteriorated as well. One of the injured is now unconscious, so that gives us one ambulant, two not."

"What about the local authorities, John," Jeff suggested. "Are they able to send a crew to help?"

"That's a negative too. The hospital was hit by lightening which shorted out the electrics and the UPS. Spot fires have been dealt with but they're evacuating the entire complex. That's the worst hit, but there's widespread damage throughout the city. The army has already mobilized to help them, so we're on our own."

"Do they need us, John?"

"Not yet, Dad. They said they'd let us know."

"Alright, back to these students. Anyone got any suggestions?"

"We need to use the rescue capsule. It's the safest option," Alan was the first to speak.

"But we can't use it, Alan," Gordon insisted. "The motor is stuffed and the computer shut itself down. Even if the motor worked, we couldn't over-ride the computer until it's had a major diagnostic."

"What about the portable winch in Thunderbird One?" Scott asked. "Could we rig it up in Thunderbird Two, attach the capsule to it instead?"

"Possibly," Virgil rubbed his chin in contemplation. "But would it be strong enough? It's used for manual evacs only, and the capsule is pretty heavy."

"Good point, Virgil." Jeff turned away from the monitor. "Brains, what's your assessment?"

"Ah, w-well, ah Mister Tracy," Brains appeared in the screen. "The, ah, the p-portable has proved reliable in, in the, ah, the past, but we can't be sure how much extra weight can take."

"Remember that earthquake in Guatemala last year?" Scott pointed out. "When that bus full of school kids fell into a sinkhole and we had to use the winch to haul a truck off it so we could get the kids out. "

"That's ah, that's right, Scott," Brains confirmed. "I ah estimate that the truck weighed about the same as the capsule, but the capsule will be ah, fully loaded."

"Are you saying it won't be safe?" Jeff asked.

"But what about friction?" Scott rested a hand on the console, leaned toward the monitor to make his point. "The cable had to pull that bus up and then over the lip of the sinkhole, then across the ground. Wouldn't the friction be counted as extra weight? The capsule will just be going down and up."

"But the wind," Alan interjected. "Can it handle that?"

All eyes turned to Brains, watched his face twitch as he thought. Finally he pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded.

"It, ah, it's possible. But I cannot ah say for sure."

"Duly noted, Brains," Jeff stood at his desk, looked at each of his sons in turn. "All right boys. Opinions."

"I don't think we have a whole lot of choice," Scott said. "What do you think, Virgil?"

"You're right; those kids need to be brought up right now. I say we go for it. But since we'll need two rescue litters now instead of one, it's up to Gordon and Alan; they'll be the ones in it."

"I'm game," Gordon said. "Al?"

"What about the wind? What's the latest on that, John?"

"It's dropped a bit more but that's about as slow as it's going to get. The next storm is due to hit in an hour. Possibly sooner."

"All right then," Jeff gave the order. "Go ahead and use the portable. But keep in touch."

A chorus of F.A.B.'s echoed as the order was acknowledged. Boots rung on metal flooring as they hurried to carry out said orders. Scott retrieved the portable winch from Thunderbird One while the others disconnected the capsule, wound up the existing cable and secured into the winch bay. It took a concerted effort by all four brothers to secure the portable onto the larger winch's support struts and then attach the capsule onto the steel cable. Virgil left the others to finish loading extra equipment into the capsule and made his way to the cockpit.

The engines rumbled, fired and hefted the huge machine into the air. Virgil steered it over the trees, down the scree slope and executed a graceful turn to bring the nose around to face the rock wall.

"We're in position," Virgil said into the radio mike. "Are you ready?"

Gordon and Alan gave the thumbs up from inside the capsule.

"We're ready," Scott pronounced from his place manning the winch.

"John," Virgil keyed in to Thunderbird Five. "Are the kids ready?"

"Affirmative."

"Okay, Scott, lower away."

"F.A.B." Scott opened the bay doors, scanned the cliff to check they were in position. Thunderbird Two's flood lights lit up the danger zone as clearly as if the sun had been shining. "Lowering capsule...now."

As the winch played out the cable, Scott kept one eagle eye on the controls, the other on the capsule descending smoothly to the ledge below. He observed closely as the cable unwound, judged the length remaining against the distance still to travel. It was going to be tight.

Too tight.

He stopped the winch when there was only half a loop remaining on the spool.

"Gordon, Alan, how far away from the ledge are you?"

"About ten feet," Gordon's voice fought with the wind buffeting into his mike.

"Virgil," Scott switched the radio to connect with the cockpit. "We're out of cable. Can you get us any lower?"

"I'll try, how far?"

"Ten feet."

"Ten feet," Virgil murmured to himself as he eyed the slope outside the cockpit. It was uncomfortably close. The leading edge of Two's nose was almost scraping the rock now, yet Virgil somehow had to manoeuvre his 'bird even closer. The wind buffeted the big ship as if it was a much smaller aircraft, threatened to toss it against the rock. Virgil ignored the screeching of the proximity alarm, unwilling to take a hand off the controls even for the split second needed to silence the alarm.

"Close enough, Virgil," Alan announced. "Hold her steady."

Sweat beaded on Virgil's forehead as he fought to keep Thunderbird Two steady. He gripped the yoke tightly, monitored his instruments constantly, while keeping a wary eye on the rock wall outside the windshield.

Alan and Gordon grabbed the Stokes litters, jumped onto the ledge and made their way over to where the students were. Two were huddled under a tarp; the other was standing to greet them. He was wet, bedraggled, covered in a myriad of small scratches and inexplicably barefoot.

"Are you Ritchie?" Gordon asked.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," Ritchie nodded "This is Dan and Kate."

Dan was lying on his side, awake but groggy. His arm bound to his side with a scarf. Kate was sitting up, face pale and pinched with pain. One leg was splinted with tree branches and socks.

That explained the bare feet, Gordon thought, impressed with Ritchie's improvisation. Seemed Alan was as well.

"Is this your work?" He asked.

"Yeah," Ritchie nodded.

"Good job."

A bolt of lightning ripped overhead followed by a sonic boom of thunder. Fat raindrops fell on the group, solid raindrops that stung the skin, bounced on the ground.

Hail.

"Guys!" Virgil interrupted urgently over the radio. "The wind is picking up. If you don't get back in the next couple of minutes, you won't get back at all."

"We're on it," Alan replied. "We've got hail."

"We've got to go," Gordon said, placing his litter on the ground next to Dan and opening the straps. "No time for niceties like pain relief, I'm afraid. That will have to wait until we get you into Two."

No-one disagreed; the three students were more than ready to leave the cliff ledge. Both Dan and Kate were man handled gently but quickly into the litters and strapped in. Despite the careful handling, they both cried out in pain.

While Alan and Gordon ferried Dan to the capsule and locked the litter into place, Ritchie held the tarp over himself and Kate in an attempt to protect them from the hail. Thankfully it was still fairly small and fairly sparse, but it was increasing rapidly.

Gordon and Alan returned with their safety helmets on, lifted Kate's litter and headed for the rescue capsule. Ritchie followed behind until they were ten feet from the edge. He stopped, staring at the drop off and the capsule hanging a couple feet off the ground. It swayed slightly in the wind, the hail pinging loudly on the metal sides.

"Come on, Ritchie," Gordon yelled over another thunderclap. "We have to go. Now!"

Ritchie shook his head. "I...can't."

"We're not kidding," Alan yelled over his shoulder. "It's too dangerous to stay."

"He's lost his glasses," Kate explained. "He can't see very well."

"Grab the back of my shirt," Alan nodded in understanding. "You can follow me."

Ritchie did so gratefully; glad the men from International Rescue seemed to understand and hadn't made fun of him. That had been an all too frequent occurrence when he had been younger.

In single file they reached the rescue capsule where Kate was loaded on. Gordon and Alan both helped Ritchie in and then squeezed in after him as the hail thundered down. A few large stones clattered into the capsule before Gordon could get the door locked. Alan contacted Scott.

"Locked and loaded. Haul us up."

Scott's F.A.B. was almost lost in the din of the hail smashing into the sides of the capsule. A small jerk and gentle swaying told they were being winched up into the bay of Thunderbird Two. Alan and Gordon stared out of the small porthole at the ledge receding slowly. Too slowly, it seemed. Much slower than their descent had been. Both knew the other was having the same thoughts. Was the portable winch powerful enough to pull the fully loaded capsule to safety?

A sudden jerk caught everyone by surprise.

Kate screamed, Ritchie fell in a heap on the floor, Alan and Gordon almost suffered the same ignominious fate, but had been able to brace their hands on the walls to prevent themselves falling. They didn't need to look out of the window to know they were spinning around, swinging in the breeze. The jerking of the cable was transmitted through the walls and floor until it resonated with the vibrations.

Dan's "What's happening" was lost over the sound of Scott's voice over the internal radio.

"Is everyone all right down there?"

"We're fine," Gordon answered after a quick check. "What the he... ah... what's going on up there?"

"We had to move away from the rocks in a hurry. You're almost here; when you get closer I'll slow it down to let the spinning settle. We don't want you to knock into the hull."

The noise of the hail on the sides of the capsule abated as they reached the protection of Thunderbird Two's nose. The lightning flashed, thunder roared albeit muffled and the wind gusted, but they had already passed through the hatch into the calm of the winch bay. Scott closed the bay doors and hydraulic plates previously hidden under the circular walkway, closed around the base of the capsule, locking it into place.

"Locked up, Virgil," Scott approached the capsule door as Gordon opened it from the inside. "All indicator lights green."

"F.A.B. Copy green."

The engines powered up, Thunderbird Two climbed into the air and once again landed in the grassy clearing. By the time Virgil had the engines shut down and made his way to the medical bay, the others were already inside.

He turned the thermostat to a higher temperature, even from the doorway he could see the three students shivering. Kate and Dan lay on beds where vents poured warm air over them while Ritchie huddled under a thermal blanket. Scott was preparing pain relief, Gordon was checking vital signs and Alan was gathering equipment. They all looked up from their work and he shared a congratulatory smile. It was all they allowed themselves until they were back at base.

With the four brothers working together, it wasn't long before IV's had been inserted, wounds tend or resplinted, and frozen bodies warmed up. Dan and Kate were sitting up in their beds, and like Ritchie, had a hot drink in hand. They were looking around the medical bay and at the members of International Rescue with unabashed curiosity.

At Virgil's prompting, they relayed how the lightning strike caused the tree to collapse which resulted in the lookout platform collapsing from underneath them. They laughed over Ritchie's self description of being a boy scout, but he sheepishly admitted he went camping with his dad a lot.

"What I don't get," Scott said. "Is what you kids were doing up there when there was a storm brewing?"

Dan shrugged, sighed. "We were trying to get photos of the storm for a college project. But I didn't know the road was closed for repairs and we had to walk the last five miles. That's why we were up there so late. If we'd driven up, we would have finished sooner, or at least had the car to hole up in."

"Where's your camera?" Gordon looked around. "I don't remember seeing it."

"Lost it when we fell. It was in my backpack along with my phone and car keys. We only had Ritchie's backpack and Kate's mobile."

"Lucky we had Richie's backpack," Kate added. "Otherwise we could have been there for days."

"Pity we lost the photos though," Ritchie lamented.

Dan looked at his friends unhappy faces and grinned while Alan's suggestion that maybe he'd had enough Penthrox pain relief made him laugh. He laughed until he coughed and the pain that tore through his shoulder quelled it.

"Sorry," he said, mouth twitching again.

"What's so funny, Dan?" Kate frowned. "I don't think losing those pictures is anything to laugh about."

Dan stuck his hand in his pocket, pulled out a small computer chip and held it up.

"Seems Ritchie isn't the only Boy Scout, I've still got them."

"Awesome!"Ritchie high fived Dan and Kate. "We are so going to ace this project!"