24 by TB's LMC RATED FRT

The Tracy family is used to cries for help. As the family behind International Rescue, danger is their business. They have saved so many lives over the years. But when they become the target of a madman, will they be able to save themselves?

INTRODUCTION

As you may or may not know, there is a television show in the United States called 24. The premise of this show was that the entire season was actually one full 24-hour day, with each episode being one hour of that day. It therefore took 24 weeks for us to witness one day in the leading man's life. I have taken that concept and applied to the world of Thunderbirds. If you are unfamiliar with 24, don't worry...it's an easy concept to pick up. If you are familiar with it, I can only hope this piece of writing does it...and Thunderbirds...justice.

Acknowledgements

I must give high praise to an excellent beta I have acquired -- Rosie. She is invaluable. I must also thank my left arm, Sandy. She is so good, and is always there for me when I need her. And last but not least, my right arm, Sam, who should really get co-authoring credit for several portions of this story. Her insight, brilliance and willingness to help are a constant source of encouragement and enlightenment.

This is dedicated to those who live on Tracy Island. They are, after all, what it's all about.

I invite you into the world of 24...

"It is the year 2035. Someone has obliterated Washington, D.C. and is threatening to do the same to Southern California. My sons' lives are in danger. And International Rescue's security has been compromised.

"My name is Jeff Tracy, and this is the longest day of my life."

Hour One

The following takes place between 12:00 a.m. and 1:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

12:00:45

Jeff woke slowly, his mind still foggy from the dream he'd been having. A dream about Lucy. He glanced at the clock. Midnight. Why was he waking up at midnight? He heard a sound and suddenly knew why. The klaxon. Somewhere, International Rescue was needed.

Without hesitation, Jeff jumped out of bed and ran into the Lounge, where the eyes of his middle son John's video portrait were flashing in time with the rescue siren. He flipped the com line open. "International Rescue here. Go ahead, John." Jeff was taken aback by the look on his face as the live transmittal began. "Son?" he asked, brow furrowed. "What is it?"

"Dad," John choked out. "Turn on the television."

He stared into his son's eyes, in which he could see tears forming. Dread filling his heart, he reached over and flicked on the TV near his desk. It was already tuned to the World News Network. What he saw was unimaginable.

"...all that is left of Washington, D.C., capital of the United States of America. Less than ten minutes ago, the entire city was brought to ruins by forces as yet unknown. At this point, it isn't even clear how the destruction was caused, but there isn't a single building left standing in the sixty-one square mile radius that was once the seat of the U.S. government. We do not yet have any information as to the well being of President Grable, nor of any other members of the Executive, Judicial or Legislative branches of this government. Stay tuned to WNN as we bring you up-to-the-minute coverage of this terrible, terrible disaster."

Jeff's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He snapped his mouth shut and turned as his eldest son Scott, second son Virgil and youngest son Alan entered the room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Kyrano, Jeff's old friend and caretaker of Tracy Island, his daughter Tin-Tin and Jeff's mother Ruth soon followed. The last to arrive was Brains, Chief Engineer for International Rescue, who looked as though he'd been awake for quite some time. The only one not present was his second-to-youngest son Gordon, who was away on a much-needed vacation.

Everyone knew by the looks on Jeff and John's faces that something horrific had occurred.

"Father?" Scott said as he approached his dad's stately wooden desk.

Jeff sank into his chair, his face a mixture of disbelief and anger.

"What is it, Dad?" Virgil asked as he and the others gathered ‘round.

Scott's eyes roamed to the television, which carried no sound save that of a helijet engine whining. He moved behind his father as his brain, now fully alert, processed the devastation it was seeing on the screen. "My God," he whispered. "Where is this?"

Just then, the word LIVE appeared in the upper left corner of the screen. A line of words at the bottom that read WASHINGTON, D.C., U.S.A. soon joined it.

"What?" Alan asked, moving forward. "D.C.? You've gotta be kidding!"

"What's happened, Mr. Tracy?" Tin-Tin asked.

Jeff took a deep breath before tearing his eyes from the television. He looked at each of them in turn...his sons, his friends. His loved ones. "It seems," he began, and then stopped to clear the frog in his throat. "According to WNN, Washington, D.C. has been...destroyed."

12:11:52

"It makes sense for us to go. We don't know how many people might be trapped in all that rubble," Scott said to the group gathered in the Lounge. The initial shock had morphed into International Rescue's traditional response to any disaster, no matter what the scale: Let's get out there and help them!

"I agree, son. We don't have a large complement, but we do have equipment they don't. I want you out there on the double."

"Yes, Sir!" Scott saluted as he headed for the revolving wall.

Before he could even touch the two light fixtures, Jeff had continued his train of thought. "Virgil, Alan, I want you to take Thunderbird 2. Load as much heavy rescue gear into her belly as you can."

"Sure wish Gordo was here. We could really use the extra pair of hands," Alan observed as Virgil headed for the floor-to-ceiling painting of the rocket ship that had once taken his father to the Moon.

"Mr. Tracy," Brains spoke, "I-I believe I might be of some a-assistance in Gordon's absence."

"All right, then, Brains. In the meantime, Tin-Tin, I want you out to New Zealand to pick Gordon up and ferry him to the scene."

"F.A.B.," Tin-Tin replied, scurrying off to her room to change clothes.

"I'll make some coffee," Ruth offered as Brains and Alan headed for the passenger elevator just outside the Lounge.

"Thanks, Mother. John," Jeff said to his son's live feed on the wall, "I want you to keep your ear to the ground up there. Relay anything and everything you pick up. At this point, we know nothing. We have no idea what we're getting into out there."

"F.A.B., Father. I'll be in touch."

"What can I do, Sir?"

"Kyrano, what you can do is get hold of Penny. We'll need all her contacts and resources to help us on this one." He thought for a moment before continuing. "Have her and Parker go as far as L.A., then check in. By the time they arrive, we should know more. In the meantime, I'm going to start on my contact list and see what I can come up with."

"Yes, Sir," Kyrano nodded as he headed for his suite.

Jeff sat down in his desk chair, from which he'd risen while giving his orders. He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and suddenly felt much older than his sixty-five years. He pulled up a special contact file from its hidden directory within his microcomputer and sat staring at the screen for several long moments.

"How could this have happened?" he wondered aloud. "Who on earth would want to kill all those people?"

12:22:02

"International Rescue England. Lady Penelope speaking."

"Hello, Lady Penelope. My apologies for waking you. This is Kyrano."

"Kyrano, dear, how wonderful to hear from you! To what do I owe this great pleasure?"

His face expressionless as always, Kyrano relayed the news of Washington D.C.'s destruction.

"Oh, my!" she breathed, hand upon her chest. "I'm afraid I've just returned home. I haven't yet seen the telecasts. What can I do to help?"

"Mr. Tracy requests your assistance in the form of your contacts and resources, as well as your presence in Los Angeles."

"Thank you, Kyrano; I know just what to do. In the meantime, please inform Jeff that Parker and I shall catch the next Fireflash and arrive in the States as quickly as we can."

"I will do so. Thank you."

"Thank you, Kyrano. Lady Penelope out."

Penelope Creighton-Ward, International Rescue's top agent, rose to her feet. She shook her head as she reflected upon what Kyrano had told her. "I can't believe someone would do this. I must begin calling my associates at once. But first..."

She reached over to the control panel on the wall next to her bedroom door and pressed the button marked Parker. It took a few moments for her butler's face to appear on the small video screen.

"Y-Yes, m'lady?" he yawned unceremoniously.

Penny stifled a smile. "Parker, pack our bags at once. Something terrible has happened in the United States, and we're needed. We'll be taking FAB One on the Fireflash to Los Angeles, be sure to make the proper arrangements immediately."

"Yes, madam, H'I'll ge' on h'it, straight h'away. Will you require h'anythin' h'else?"

"No, Parker, that will do for the moment. I must busy myself with some phone calls. Please inform me as to the time our flight will leave."

"Will do, m'lady."

Penny walked across the room to an ornate video telephone that sat upon a lovely white antique table against the far wall. She seated herself in front of it and pulled up a secret contact list on the microcomputer to its left. Sighing, she began dialing the first number.

"Well, here we go," she said to herself. "A most unpleasant task."

12:31:12

Jeff ended his final call. No one had been able to give him anything at all on the disaster. His face looked grimmer than ever as Ruth returned with his second cup of coffee.

"You all right, son?"

"No, Mother, I'm not. Some maniac has destroyed an entire city, most likely killing tens of thousands of people. And I've sent most of my family out there when we have no idea what they'll try next."

"I know, Jeff. I'm worried about the boys, too. But they're good at what they do. They'll be careful. You know that."

"It doesn't matter how careful they are. The people of Washington, D.C. probably had no warning at all when whatever hit, hit. And just prior to 8 a.m. their time, too. The city was probably teeming with workaday folk."

Ruth patted her son's hand gently. "I know, son. I know. We'll get through this like we've gotten through everything else. Try not to worry."

"Easier said than done." Just then, John's signal came through. "Go ahead, John."

"Father, I've been monitoring the emergency U.S. Government lines."

"What've you come up with?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid. At this point, they don't seem to think anyone in the White House survived the attack, but no one can get in there to confirm."

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. His mother's strong hand upon his shoulder strengthened his resolve, and he reopened his eyes. "You said attack. Do they know for sure what happened?"

"Not a lot of details as yet. There are some reports from survivors and those just outside the city limits saying the night sky lit up almost like day. Said it looked like thousands of little meteors falling to Earth. When they hit, things just started blowing up."

"Thousands of little meteors?" Ruth repeated.

"That's strange. John, relay that to Brains on Thunderbird 2. I want his take on it. Get him any photos or data you can."

"F.A.B.," he replied as his feed winked out.

Kyrano entered the room and crossed to Jeff's desk. "I have spoken with Lady Penelope," he reported. "She is contacting her resources as we speak. She and Parker will be leaving England as soon as possible."

"All right, thank you, Kyrano."

"How else may I be of assistance, Sir?"

Jeff sighed. "If you don't mind staying glued to the television for a bit, I'd like you and Mother to monitor two different networks, just to make sure we stay on top of any developments. John can't possibly catch everything up there all by himself. In the meantime, I'm going to take a shower." He checked the clock on the wall to the left of his desk as he rose to his feet. "I should have plenty of time before Scott calls in. If he does before I'm finished, notify me immediately."

"All right, Jeff," Ruth replied, seating herself in her son's vacated chair.

"Yes, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano nodded. He walked down the hall, past the passenger elevator and into a small adjacent room, a den of sorts. He flipped on the television and turned to NTBS, where he found their top reporter, Ned Cook, in the city of Los Angeles covering the disaster remotely. He pulled a pillow from the overstuffed couch and placed it on the floor in front of the TV. He then sat cross-legged upon it, folded his hands and began to watch the most shocking event in his lifetime unfold.

12:42:51

Ruth looked away from the television as John's signal came through. She opened the channel and her grandson's Nordic features filled his video screen. He reminded her so much of his grandfather that she couldn't help but smile. "Hello, John."

"Hi, Grandma. Where's Dad?"

"He's off to shower and dress. Is there any news?"

"Not too much. I've been on with Brains. I'm transmitting a bit of data I've picked up to Thunderbird 2 now. I also wanted to let Dad know that I activated the Emergency Network signal. I've received replies from all but ten of International Rescue's agents saying they're on their way to D.C. to see what they can do. I should be hearing from the others any time now."

"It's amazing what good people we have in this organization."

"Sure is." John's face fell as he contemplated his next statement. "I can't get in touch with Agent 14."

"Where's that one?"

"He's our man in D.C."

Ruth's eyes looked away as she realized what John was telling her. "Oh," she said softly. "Keep trying, John. I imagine communications are all but gone over that way. Maybe he just can't get through." As much as she hoped her words were true, Ruth Tracy was nothing if not a realist. She knew as well as John did that Agent 14 might not have survived. "In the meantime," she said, forcing a smile, "I'll let Jeff know the latest."

"Thanks, Grandma. I'll talk to you soon."

"Right, John," she replied before closing the channel.

12:50:02

Ruth had just finished briefing Jeff on the latest news from Thunderbird 5 when Kyrano entered the room. "Mr. Tracy? I think I may have some news for you."

"What is it, Kyrano?"

"Ned Cook has reported that a party is claiming responsibility for the attack upon Washington, D.C." "Really?" Ruth asked. "Who is it? Terrorists?"

"They are not certain, Mrs. Tracy. They say their headquarters received a voice-only video telephone transmission from a man calling himself Acronym."

"Acronym?" Jeff repeated. "What group is he with?"

"He has not claimed to be part of any group, Sir. He said that he and he alone is responsible for the destruction of Washington, D.C."

"And he didn't say why?"

"No. However, he has made a new threat."

Ruth frowned. "On what?"

"Southern California. The man said that if things did not happen as he wished, he would do to all of Southern California what he did to Washington."

"My God!" Jeff exclaimed. "What is it he wants to happen?"

"He would not say. He told them that the one he wished it from would know soon enough."

"What kind of madman is this?" Ruth pondered as she lowered herself onto the settee in front of her son's desk.

"The worst kind, Mother. Apparently he doesn't care how many people he kills for his own sick agenda. I just wish we could find out more. Hopefully Penny will have something for us soon."

The vidphone behind Jeff's desk chimed. Now seated in his chair, he turned and answered it. Voice Only was selected. "This is Jeff Tracy."

"I know who you are," a sinister voice replied.

"Who is this?"

"You may call me...Acronym."

Ruth gasped as Jeff turned to look first at her, then at Kyrano. His face paled as he spoke. "You're the one responsible for what happened to Washington."

The man chuckled. "Ah, your information network is sophisticated. And fast. But then again, one would not expect less from the man in charge of...International Rescue."

Jeff's mouth went dry. He tried to swallow, but found he hadn't a drop of spit. He'd answered the phone with his first and last name...and this man; this Acronym...had called him the head of International Rescue.

"I'm sorry, Sir, what did you say?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You heard me, Tracy. Don't play games with me. I know exactly who you are and what you do for a living. I also know that your five sons, strapping young men that they are, staff International Rescue for you."

Jeff muted the phone and turned to the others. He was at a complete loss for words.

"Is it that Hood character?" Ruth asked, coming to stand by her son's side.

"No, it doesn't sound like his voice," Jeff replied.

"I do not believe it is he," Kyrano added.

"Come now, Mr. Tracy," the voice sneered from the phone speaker. "Nothing to say? Don't you even want to know why I've called? Really, I would expect better manners."

Jeff restored the voice pickup and replied, "I'm still here."

"Very well. I imagine that if you know I am behind the destruction of the United States capital city, you are also aware of my plans for Southern California."

"Yes, I am. What is it you want?"

"Oh, something very simple, my friend. And something only you can provide."

"What would that be?"

"I want you to reveal your identities to the world."

Jeff's mind was reeling. This can't be happening, he thought over and over again. This just can't be happening. He struggled to keep himself on an even keel as he felt Kyrano's hand upon his right shoulder. "Why would you want that?"

"You're so smart, Mr. Billionaire-In-Charge-Of-International-Rescue. You figure it out."

"What if your demands are not met?"

"Then Southern California shall suffer the same fate as Washington, D.C."

Jeff rubbed his chin, his mind racing. What was he going to do? What on Earth could he do?

"Oh, and there's one more thing, Jefferson."

Jeff started at the use of his full first name.

"Just to make sure it's a little more personal, I've, uh, taken the liberty of acquainting myself with one of those perfect sons of yours."

Jumping to his feet, Jeff looked wildly at Kyrano and Ruth. "What are you talking about?" he asked in a near-whisper.

"Well, it seems that International Rescue can get along fine without one of its operatives. I believe your fourth son, Gordon, was on a camping trip in the New Zealand wilderness."

Jeff's legs buckled and he nearly fell to the floor. Kyrano and Ruth each caught a side of him and lowered him back into the chair. Tears appeared in all three pairs of eyes.

"What have you done to my son?" he choked.

Acronym laughed. "I knew that would get your attention. I've done nothing much to him as yet. He's still in one piece. But I can tell you this: if you have not revealed your true identities to the world by midnight tonight, two things are going to happen. First, the southern half of California as you know it will cease to exist."

"And second?"

"Gordon Tracy...will die."

12:59:58

12:59:59

01:00:00

 

Hour Two

The following takes place between 1:00 a.m. and 2:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

01:00:15

Jeff could only stare at the vidphone behind his desk as Acronym severed the connection. Words would not come. He felt Kyrano's hand upon his right shoulder, Ruth's upon his left. He felt them, yet felt nothing. Stone cold. Just like...just like when he'd been told his beloved wife Lucille had died. Thinking of her, thinking of the day she'd given birth to their son Alan...a day that should've been full of joy. A day that turned into the most hellish day of his life.

He closed his eyes as the memories flooded back to him. The helplessness. Just like now. Having to face his sons to tell them the news. Just like now. Not knowing where to go or what to do. Just like now. His world started crumbling again. The feelings he had shut off began returning in a torrent. He couldn't break down. Not again. He just couldn't. Rising to his feet, he vaguely felt his loved ones' hands slip from his shoulders.

"Jeff? Where are you going?"

Lost in thought, he didn't reply as he wandered out onto the balcony. Ruth and Kyrano could only watch in sadness and concern.

"Kyrano--"

"I will inform the boys," he interrupted.

A notification sound bleeped, and the two turned to find the eyes of Scott's video portrait lighting up in time to it. Kyrano moved behind the desk and opened up the line. "This is International Rescue," he said.

"Kyrano? Where's Dad?" Kyrano glanced toward the balcony, where he saw Jeff leaning against the railing. Scott knew him well enough to know something was up. "Tell me," he said simply.

"Scott, I am afraid I have grave news for you and your brothers. I would prefer to speak to all of you at the same time, so as not to repeat this any more than necessary."

"I'll hold on the line while you get Thunderbirds 2 and 5."

Scott fidgeted in his seat as he waited impatiently for Kyrano to reach his brothers. He heard Tin-Tin ring in on the communications console behind his father's desk.

"This is Ladybird calling Tracy Island. Come in, Tracy Island."

Ruth turned and answered the call. "We're here, Tin-Tin."

"Mrs. Tracy, something must be wrong with Ladybird."

"Why do you say that, dear?"

"Well, the GPS isn't picking anyone up where Gordon is supposed to be. I've searched a ten-mile radius, but there isn't anything except wildlife showing up on the thermal imager."

Ruth frowned as she replied, "Tin-Tin, please hold the line for a moment. Your father must tell you and the boys something. Ah, Kyrano's just gotten them all together."

"Hello, everyone," Kyrano began, seating himself in Jeff Tracy's chair. "I wished to tell all of you this at once, to avoid having to repeat myself."

"Come on, Kyrano, out with it! Does it have something to do with why Tin-Tin can't find Gordon?" Scott asked.

"What do you mean she can't find Gordon?" Alan nearly bellowed from his vid portrait.

Kyrano proceeded to relate the report by Ned Cook about Acronym's statements regarding Washington, D.C. and Southern California. He then came to the call Jeff had received from this Acronym and relayed the entire conversation.

"This man made it very clear that if your father does not reveal your identities to the world, Southern California will be destroyed and--" For the first time any of them had ever seen, Kyrano momentarily lost his cool composure. "And Gordon will be killed," he finally finished.

01:17:00

They all began talking at once. The Lounge was a mass of angry and frightened voices as the brothers and Tin-Tin contemplated their options. The men had all but decided to turn their air craft right around to begin searching for Gordon when their father, looking pale and drawn, entered the Lounge. Everyone fell silent as tension hung heavy in the air.

Ruth approached her son and placed an arm around his back. Jeff just stood in the middle of the room looking at each of the live feeds in turn. Scott. His eldest. Scott was the one who'd held the Tracy family together after Lucy's death. He'd been there when Alan was born. He'd been the rock of the family, its strength until Jeff had at last come back to himself. And now he was the one who held the family together out there, wherever International Rescue took them.

Virgil. Strong, brave and Scott's right arm. Of all his sons, Virgil seemed to have the biggest heart. He cared about everyone and everything. He took care of anyone with the tenderness of Lucille, yet never balked at putting his life in danger when the situation demanded. And he took care of Scott. After so many years of no one doing so, Virgil had taken upon himself the role of Scott's caretaker, something Jeff knew very well his eldest needed. Badly, at times. Virgil was the even keel that kept the family on its course.

Standing directly behind Virgil was Brains. Brains. Such a funny thing to call a man. And yet, there truly was nothing else to call him. Oh, sure, they could've called him by the name he'd been given back when he'd been found as a baby, but Brains had made it clear he preferred the childhood nickname over some false first and last names that held little meaning for him. His genius was unrivaled, his tenacity and courage matching those of the family he now found himself a part of. In the direst situations, Brains always seemed to be able to come up with some way to save the day. He was almost like...a sixth son.

John. John was graceful and intuitive, having fallen in love with the stars at an early age. He would spend hours peering through the telescope as a child, or talking with Jeff about space exploration and traveling to the Moon. Lucille had spent many hours with John, reading to him, encouraging his love of space and the stars, singing to him. Quick-witted and practical, he was an accomplished author and observer of the heavens. Being the middle child, John often found himself somewhat of an outcast while Virgil and Scott would go off and do one thing, and Gordon and Alan would go off and do another. But he was always the calm in whatever storm was thrown their way. Just like he would be now.

Jeff's heart sank as his eyes skimmed over the still video capture of Gordon that sat smiling lifelessly where his live son's face should have been. He came to Alan, whose mouth hung open slightly. Alan, the baby of the family. The one who could annoy each and every one of them with little or no effort whatsoever, yet also the one who was so endearing you just couldn't stay mad at him for long. Alan, who idolized his three oldest brothers and had always tagged after Gordon with such admiration and devotion, both of which continued to this day. Of all those in the family, Jeff knew Alan would be hardest hit if something happened...if something went wrong...

And then he thought of Gordon. Of how Gordon had almost died in the hydrofoil accident. Of how the doctors had told him his son wouldn't last through the night. Jeff had seated himself at Gordon's bedside and told him in no uncertain terms that he would survive. Even if he does, the doctors said, he'll never walk again. So Jeff had declared to Gordon, lying there so helplessly in the hospital bed, that yes, he would walk again.

And he had. Gordon had survived. Gordon had walked. And Gordon was now a fully functioning operative of International Rescue. Surely Fate wouldn't allow such a miracle, only to have him lose his life in some madman's senseless game.

Or would she?

Not if I have anything to do with it.

Jeff's back straightened. Eyes full of fire, he looked once more at his sons, who stared back at him from the wall. "That'll be enough of that now, boys," he said, speaking to himself as well.

"But Father, we have to find Gordon!" Alan said vehemently.

"We will, Alan. We will. But right now you have thousands of lives to save. That is what we're sworn to do. So get out there and do it! I will see to Gordon's safety."

"But Father--"

"No buts, Scott!" Jeff barked. "You do what you need to do. We'll do the same."

"How are you gonna find him if Tin-Tin can't?" Virgil asked.

Jeff's reply was interrupted by Tin-Tin's frantic voice coming over the console. "Aircraft coming at me!"

"What?!?" Jeff roared.

"Help! I'm under attack! I'm under attack!" she screamed.

Then the line went dead.

01:27:03

Gordon woke to find himself curled up on a cold metal floor. He opened his eyes, but there was no light shining wherever he was. His back ached like nothing, and he rose to his feet, stretching left and right, trying to ease the pain. "Hello?" he called out.

His voice seemed to fade before it was even out of his mouth. "Where am I?" he wondered aloud. Taking baby steps, and holding his arms outstretched, he began walking around. Before long he found a metal wall. He followed it to a rounded corner, and then felt along the next wall. He came to a second corner, and halfway along the new wall he felt a doorframe. He soon located the latch, but found it locked. He resumed his travels until at last he'd been around once more and was back to the door again.

"Hello!" he yelled as he began pounding on the door. "Hello! Can anyone hear me?"

He banged and banged, but to no avail. It seemed that wherever he was, he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. He clapped his hand to his left wrist, but found it bare. His communicator watch was gone. Crawling around on his hands and knees, he searched the floor hoping to locate the watch, his knapsack, or any of his other belongings.

But that search proved fruitless. There wasn't anything in this room but Gordon himself. Returning to the door, he leaned his back against it and slid down until he was resting on the floor. How had he gotten here? What had happened? He closed his eyes as he tried to recall.

He'd been having a fine time of it in the wilderness. He'd chosen the most remote spot he could find in New Zealand: Fiordland National Park. Prior to this excursion, he hadn't had a vacation in almost two years. What he'd wanted was peace, quiet and Nature. He'd found it, and had spent two days hiking through the woods admiring all that Creation had to offer, basking in the solitude and silence of his own thoughts.

At night he would build a fire and just sit watching the flames dance before his eyes. He'd set up his one-man tent, strip naked and slide into the electric sleeping bag, where he'd stay warm and cozy during the night. He'd seen almost every type of animal known to man, flora and fauna unrivaled by any modern city.

The birds had seemed to be singing just to him as he'd made his way up over hills and down through valleys. He would stop whenever he tired, or when his back would begin to hurt, and then continue at his leisure. There were no klaxons. There were no situations of peril or imminent danger. There were no lives to be saved, no brothers to watch out for. There was no one but Gordon.

By the middle of the second day, he'd finally begun to unwind and relax, starting to feel refreshed and more like his old self. His sense of humor had been dormant for some time thanks to exhaustion and near burnout. But now he'd even started cracking jokes to himself.

And then, while he'd been sleeping on the second night, he remembered being awakened by voices. Surprised to hear humans so close, he'd rushed to pull on his jeans and heavy gray sweatshirt. He'd just put on his socks and hiking boots when someone had ripped open the side of his tent with a knife. Yanking his own knife out of his bag, he'd asked, "What do you want?"

Four burly men ripped the tent open and brandished laser rifles at him. Ordering him to drop his knife, they approached him and he felt his stomach drop. One of them hit him. Hard. And then his world had gone black.

Gordon now rubbed the back of his skull and found a lovely walnut-sized knot at its base. Yes, he'd been hit but good, and knocked unconscious. No wonder his head hurt so terribly. He wondered how long he'd been in this place. And where was he? Then it dawned on him. That funny feeling he'd had since waking up.

He was underwater. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name.

But the biggest question was why. Why had he been captured and brought to this place? What on Earth could they want?

01:39:15

Tin-Tin fought the controls of Ladybird, but they were sluggish and unresponsive. That shot to the rear of the small airplane had most likely taken out her elevator control and flaps, not to mention her hydraulics. She tried to raise Tracy Island, but the radio had gone dead. She barely had time to activate her com watch's GPS beacon before the tops of tall pines began scraping the belly of the plane.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Gotta keep her level. Gotta...keep...her...level..."

She was vaguely aware of another aircraft zooming over her as Ladybird began falling apart. The trees tugged at the steel, twisting creaks and groans filling her ears. "Hold it together, woman," she said, bracing for impact. "Hold it together."

A calm, loving feeling seemed to wash over her and she smiled...she actually smiled. "Father," she whispered.

Tin-Tin lurched violently in the seat as the plane's wings collapsed and the rear fuselage ripped off behind her. Her smile disappeared and fear gripped her heart. The cockpit windows shattered, showering her with bits of glass. She covered her face with her hands and held herself as steady as possible. The blood rushing through her ears mixed with the unmistakable roar of a crashing airplane. Ladybird took one last bounce into the air before diving headfirst into the forest.

Her last conscious thoughts were of Alan.

01:42:41

Kyrano's face had gone pale as soon as his daughter announced she was under attack. His mind reached out to her and he sensed her terror. For endless minutes you could have heard a pin drop as everyone watched him, waiting to hear what he was picking up from Tin-Tin.

At last he spoke, tears streaming down his weathered face. "She is terrified," he whispered. "She is crashing."

"Tin-Tin!" Alan yelled, practically jumping through the video screen.

"Father," Scott broke in. "I have arrived at Danger Zone. Dear God. It's gone. The entire city. It's gone. What do I do, Father? Should I land?"

"No!" Alan cried. "No, we have to save Tin-Tin!"

Jeff held up a hand to silence his youngest. "Yes, Scott, you need to get set up. We can't shirk our duty when peoples' lives are at stake."

Alan pounded his fist on the console back near Thunderbird 2's sleeping quarters. "But Tin-Tin's life is at stake!"

"I am very well aware of that, son!" Jeff snapped. "But you have a job to do! I'm going after Tin-Tin and Gordon myself."

"We're coming with you," Ruth said as she placed a hand on Kyrano's arm.

Suddenly Kyrano stiffened. "She's lost consciousness," he reported.

"Is she okay?" Brains asked.

"I do not know."

"But she is alive..."

"Yes, Alan," Kyrano nodded. "She is alive. She was thinking...of you."

Alan slumped back into his seat, wiping unshed tears from his eyes. "Thank God," he whispered. Then he sat back up straight. "But she could be hurt!"

"Father, I'm sixty-two minutes out from Danger Zone," Virgil reported, his face drawn tight. He wanted nothing more than to turn his ship away from the coast and head for New Zealand, but he knew his father was right. They couldn't just let more people die in D.C., not when they were so close and could potentially save them.

"Operate standard rescue," Jeff ordered. "Kyrano and I are heading for New Zealand now. John?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Once we're airborne, I want you to maintain an open line between Tracy One, Base and Mobile Control. We're to keep in contact at all times."

"What about me, Jeff? I'm going, too!"

"No, Mother. I need you here at Base. If that Acronym calls again, you need to be here to take it."

Ruth opened her mouth to speak, but thought the better of it. Her son was right. Someone did need to stay behind, and at nearly ninety years of age, it made the most sense for her to be the one to do it. "Very well," she finally replied.

Scott's feed had shut down as he landed and prepared Mobile Control. Jeff turned back to the portrait wall. "John, I also want you in constant communication with Brains. We need to try and figure out what those things were that destroyed D.C. I want to know where they came from and how we can stop them."

"Yes, Father."

"Kyrano, let's get down to the Maintenance Bay. We're going to need to take a few things with us." "Jeff!" Ruth called from where she was sitting behind her desk.

"What?"

"I'm picking up a signal. It's Tin-Tin! It's her auto-locator!"

"Yes, I have it too, Father!" John said excitedly.

"Keep a fix on her, both of you. Let me know the second it moves."

"F.A.B.," they both replied.

"Gordon," Alan whispered as Virgil, Brains and John's feeds winked out. "Tin-Tin."

Jeff stopped in mid-stride and turned to his son's sad face. "It'll be all right. We'll find them. You know we will."

Alan nodded and rose to his feet, his heart heavy. "Yes, Father."

"Kyrano? Let's go."

Ruth watched them leave the Lounge as Alan's feed closed down, and sat back in the chair. "There must be something more I can do," she said to the empty room. Turning to the left, she raised the volume on the television, so as to be able to monitor whatever information they might come up with. She picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desktop. "Acronym," she said, thinking aloud. "Why on Earth would he call himself Acronym?"

01:51:59

Tin-Tin moaned as her mind struggled awake. The acrid smell of burning rubber and metal pierced her senses and she began to cough. Her torso ached terribly, but as she began moving around, she didn't think anything had been broken. Pulling her sweater up to cover her nose and mouth, she unbuckled the harness that held her in the seat. The plane was slanted downward, and as she stood and turned around, she found that the entire back half of Ladybird had been sheared right off.

"Boy," she said. "Am I lucky. Now to get out of here."

"Not so fast," came a voice just behind the open end of the plane.

Tin-Tin jumped, startled. It was pitch black outside. The only light was from the glowing console behind her and a small fire just in front of her. "Who's there?" she called out.

A large man dressed in black jeans and wearing a black coat pulled himself up over the twisted metal and into the fuselage. Tin-Tin backed away until she was leaning against the console. At first, a wave of relief washed over her. At least she'd been found, and wouldn't have to spend the night alone in an unforgiving wilderness.

But then a feeling of dread overcame her. She knew instinctively that this man was not here to help her. Her suspicions were confirmed seconds later when he moved toward her, and the light from the fire revealed a weapon in his hand.

"Well, young missy, who do we have here?"

"What'cha got?" a voice called from down below.

"A woman! She's alive!" the man yelled back. Returning his attention to Tin-Tin, he asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"Why did you shoot me down?" she demanded, raising her chin defiantly.

"I asked you first," he hissed, finger tightening around the trigger on his machine pistol.

"I was looking for a friend who's gone missing," she replied quickly.

"Well, well, well," he said. Then he noticed the watch on Tin-Tin's left wrist. He recognized it. It was the same as the one they'd removed from Gordon Tracy's arm. "Hey, Greg! Looks like we were right - International Rescue's on the scene!"

"In a little red airplane?" the man apparently called Greg shouted back. He then laughed. "And a woman, to boot!"

"Yeah, what a scream," the man watching Tin-Tin replied. "All right, little lady, let's get moving."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, you came out here lookin' for Gordon Tracy, didn't you?"

Her face paled, but she didn't respond.

"How about we take you to see him?"

Tin-Tin's heart leapt. That could only mean Gordon was still alive! At least, she hoped that's what it meant. She decided to go along willingly, for she knew something they didn't: her GPS beacon was still on. If Tin-Tin was with Gordon, Mr. Tracy and the others would find them, and all would be well. She walked forward and sat down at the edge of the broken plane. There were three men on the ground, about six feet below her.

"Jump," the man behind her ordered.

She took a deep breath and did so, landing in a crouching position. When two of the men tried to help her to her feet, she shook them off, growling a little. The one from the plane jumped down beside her, grabbed her wrist and yanked the watch off.

"No!" she cried.

He smiled evilly. "You won't be needing this," he said, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Tin-Tin's heart sank as the men led her away from Ladybird. She was dimly aware of the sound of a large helijet approaching, and soon it landed quite near them. She was herded into the belief and had to resist the urge to run. She knew she had to let them take her to Gordon. She had to know he was okay. Not only that, but she knew her father would soon be trying to contact her with his mind. If nothing else, they should be able to hone in on them through that alone, no matter where she was taken.

"Greg to Boss. Greg to Boss," the man in front of her spoke into a small walkie-talkie.

"Here!" a voice replied. "What'd you find?"

"A woman. She's from International Rescue, by the looks of her watch. She was lookin' for the other one."

"Ah, splendid, just as I suspected. Is she unharmed?"

"Yep, she's all right. Chaney's workin' on movin' her plane."

"Excellent."

"Looks like you've got yourself another bargaining chip, Sir."

"Indeed I do, Gregory. Indeed I do. What's her name?"

"Don't know, Sir. She looks kind of Asian."

"Ah. This must be the young lady Tin-Tin Kyrano. Interesting that Tracy would send only her."

Tin-Tin frowned. Who was this 'Boss' and how in the world did he know who she was? And how did he know a 'Tracy' was involved with International Rescue???

A frightening laugh rang out over the walkie-talkie as he continued. "Well, Jefferson, it seems the stakes have just gone higher."

01:59:58

01:59:59

02:00:00


 

Hour Three

The following takes place between 2:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

02:01:21

"This is Tracy One calling Thunderbird 5. Come in, John."

"Thunderbird 5 here. Am patching you in with Mobile Control and Base now."

"Fine. Scott? You read me?"

"Strength 5, Father."

"How's it looking over there?"

"Not good, Dad. Not good at all. There are so many people that need our help...but we're only four strong."

"I know, son. I know. But John says our agents from the world over are on their way to help. You'll soon have more hands than you know what to do with. Prioritize and set Virgil and the others on those who need you the most."

"F.A.B. How about Tin-Tin and Gordon? Anything yet?"

"Father!" John broke in. "Tin-Tin's signal is moving. It's moving!"

"Yes," Ruth interjected from Tracy Island, "I'm picking that up, too."

"Where is it headed, son?"

"Due north of where she crash-landed. It must mean she's okay."

"I certainly hope that's what it means," Jeff replied grimly.

"Jeff..."

Kyrano and Jeff exchanged glances. They'd never heard Ruth Tracy hesitate so.

"Mother? What is it?"

"Oh, no."

"What, Grandma?" Scott asked.

"John, are you picking this up?"

"Picking what u--oh. Yes."

"For heaven's sake, what is it?!?" Jeff barked.

"Patching it through now, Father."

Everyone listened as Ned Cook's voice came over the airwaves.

"...received a second communication from the man calling himself Acronym, the man who claims responsibility for laying waste to the capital of the United States. In this second call, Acronym has reaffirmed his involvement in the attack, and has given the world an ultimatum: if the members of International Rescue do not reveal their true identities, more death and destruction will occur. Southern California will suffer the next attack in exactly 22 hours. 24 hours after that, New York City. He has threatened that he shall continue attacking humanity the world 'round unless his demands are met."

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, and then reopened them. Ned's voice continued.

"And there is something else. To ensure International Rescue's full compliance, Acronym has informed this station that he is currently holding two members of the outfit hostage, a man and a woman."

"Oh, no," Scott breathed. "Tin-Tin."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know, I had the great fortune to have my life saved by International Rescue. If not for them, I would not be here with you on this most tragic day. As many of you out there know, after my harrowing experience in New York City, I began putting together a network of those whose lives have been saved by International Rescue. Our group is called International Rescuees, and now numbers almost three-quarters of a million victims and their families. I think I can speak for each and every person International Rescue has saved when I say, we stand behind you. If you need our help, you know how to contact us. The world needs you. And the world will not abandon you."

"Boy, he's sure going out on a limb talking like that," Scott said.

"Yes, he is, son. He's made himself a target, the stubborn fool."

"Dad..."

"What is it, Scott?"

"Well...Ned just told the whole world that D.C. was destroyed because Acronym wants us to reveal our identities."

"Well, what is it you're worried about?" Ruth asked.

"It's not gonna take too much for the families and friends of those killed here in Washington to start blaming us for this attack. If they do, we may not be such a welcomed sight around here. I wish that Ned Cook had kept his mouth shut!"

"I think what he's done is courageous," Ruth interjected. "And I think we should take him up on his offer. Three-quarters of a million people, Jeff. Between them and our agents, this Acronym doesn't stand a chance. The public won't have enough time to be angry at us."

"But there's still Gordon and Tin-Tin," John reminded them. "What about them? If Acronym discovers we're trying to flush him out rather than give ourselves up, he'll kill them for sure."

"Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said, trying to recover from having just found out his daughter was being held hostage. "What shall we do?"

Jeff's mind was racing as the jet sped toward New Zealand. What could he do? John was right. If Acronym could kill so many people at once in D.C., he would certainly have no qualms killing two more. And yet, his mother was right as well. So many people offering to help, people who wanted to give something back to those who had helped them. How could he refuse such generosity? For the first time since they had begun operating, International Rescue needed help themselves.

It was an agonizing decision Jeff had to make, but when he did, his heart was at one with his mind. As Tracy One began veering away from New Zealand, he said, "John, get hold of Ned Cook. Arrange for a meeting near Los Angeles, somewhere with some privacy. We're going to get some help on this."

"F.A.B."

"Virgil, Brains and Alan are arriving in 20 minutes. I'll brief them."

Jeff heard other voices coming through from Mobile Control. "Scott? Who's there?"

He could hear the smile in Scott's voice as he replied, "Everyone, Father. Our agents. I'd say three hundred people just swarmed in."

Jeff smiled in return. "All right, then. I guess I don't need to worry about you winding up on the wrong end of a rotten egg. You should have what you need on your end. Leave Gordon and Tin-Tin to us."

"Okay, Father. Good luck."

"You, too, son. You, too."

02:16:06

Having dozed off, Gordon started as he began to feel like he was falling. He tumbled backward as the door to the room he was in was thrown open. Gruff hands picked him up and threw him back inside before he was even fully awake. He heard a familiar voice cry out his name.

"Tin-Tin?" he said, scrambling to his feet. In the confusion and the sudden, blinding light, he could see almost nothing beyond the door. Before he could quite figure out what was going on, he felt someone slam into him. They sprawled onto the floor as his hands reached up and grabbed two arms. They heard the door clang shut, and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking behind it.

"Tin-Tin? Is that you?"

"Oh, Gordon!" she cried, hugging him fiercely. "You're all right! You're alive!"

"What are you doing here? Where are we? What's going on?"

Extricating herself from his arms, Tin-Tin crawled off him and sat cross-legged on the floor. But she would not move her hand from his leg as he sat up next to her. It was so dark in the room. And now, having found him, she was terrified of losing him.

"I don't know where we are exactly, Gordon. We're underwater somewhere. These men, there were four of them, they made me get on a helijet and then we boarded a submarine."

Gordon breathed deeply before replying, "I knew it. I could feel the water pressure. I knew I was underwater. I could feel us surfacing and diving." There was a moment's silence before he repeated his original question. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find you."

He smiled wryly into the blackness. "Well, I guess you succeeded."

02:23:17

"Acronym," Ruth muttered, scribbling letters on a piece of paper. "Acronym. Acronym." She scratched out whatever she'd written and rewrote the letters again. "A-C-R-O-N-Y-M," she spelled out. "C-R-Y-M-A...no, that's not right." She crossed it out and began again, staring intently at the word in front of her. She played these games sometimes with Brains, seeing how many words they could make up out of his long, scientific terminology. It served to help her neurons keep firing right, she would tell him. "And why would a fellow call himself Acronym unless he meant something by it?" she asked aloud.

"You still at that, Mother?" Jeff's voice came from the console behind her.

"Yes, I am. I'm convinced there's a clue to this man's identity here somewhere."

"Well, keep at it, then. If anyone can figure it out, it's you."

"Father, you should see some of these talk programs that are going on."

"What about 'em, John?"

"Scott was right. It looks like some of these people are blaming us for what happened."

"How can they?" Ruth asked. "We had nothing to do with it!"

"A lot of lives were lost, Mother. Everyone's angry, and they need someone to blame. I just hope we can put a stop to it before anything else happens."

"Father, I've also been on direct link with Brains in Thunderbird 2."

"What've you come up with, John?"

"I'm patching Brains through now."

"Mr. Tracy?"

"Yes, Brains, I'm here."

"Well, uh, given what information John's been a-able to, uh, gather on the objects that hit here, a-and from the, uh, destructive pattern I've seen, I-I think I know what they're using."

"And that is...?"

"The o-only thing that makes sense, is a-a new formula they've been, uh, toying with over at Canton Aeronautics."

"Canton? As in Canton Corporation? In Kansas City?" Jeff asked.

"Y-Yes, exactly. A-About three weeks ago, I received a, uh, communiqué from a fellow scientist who'd recently left the, uh, company. He told me about a formula they'd developed called, uh, uranium trihydrazine, o-or UH-3 for short. He left Canton due to, uh, misalignment with their o-objectives."

"What exactly were their objectives, Brains?"

"They wanted to use the, uh, UH-3 in weapons of mass destruction, Mr., uh, Tracy. Dr. Godfrey refused to be a-a part of such goings-on and resigned."

"Are you certain the ones that hit Washington are made of UH-3?"

"Well, I-I'd know more if I could, uh, take some samples from the area. I-It's not harmful after detonation, but it breaks down to, uh, a very distinctive compound a-afterwards. I-If I find that compound here, I'll know I'm right."

"Okay, then. Scott, find an agent or two with a scientific background. Then get them together with Brains so he can confirm his theory."

"F.A.B."

"Brains, do everything you can, as quickly as possible. And see if you can't get your Dr. Godfrey's help. If he worked on this thing, he'll know more about it than anyone."

"Yes, Sir!"

"John, get on with our office in Arlington. They should know of a laboratory Brains can use."

"Right away, Father."

"Kyrano and I will be arriving in Los Angeles in approximately twenty-seven minutes. After we meet with Ned Cook, I'll let you know what goes on."

"I've got it!" Ruth cried.

Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. "Good Lord, Mother! What've you got?"

"I've got it, Jeff! I know what Acronym stands for! My Acorn!"

"My Acorn?" Kyrano asked, frowning. "What does that mean?" He looked down at the steering yoke and noticed his friend's hands were gripping it a little too hard. He then looked up at his face. It had gone white. "Mr. Tracy?"

"It can't be," Jeff whispered. "Mother, it can't be."

"It makes sense, Jeff! It makes perfect sense!"

Jeff's mind flashed back to high school. It was his senior year, and he'd been looking forward to joining the Air Force, to escaping life as a farmer and heading off for more exciting adventures. During the summer, a family had moved into a newly built house about eight miles from the Tracy farm. The Cantons were well to do. Michael Canton had just severed a long tenure with NASA as the head of their Research and Development division. He'd moved his family to Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas so Mr. Canton could begin his own aerospace company fairly cheaply.

Jeff recalled that Michael's wife Jenny had been a beautiful woman, but very flighty and somewhat dingy, to his way of thinking. They had one child, Michael Canton II. An eighteen-year old himself, he'd transferred into Thomas Jefferson High School. As the only new person in a class full of kids who'd known each other practically their whole lives he was, almost by necessity, an outsider, and made very few friends. Of course, the fact that he acted like a rich, spoiled brat did nothing to endear him to the grass roots students of Jefferson High.

Warm, open and friendly, Jeff had attempted several conversations with Michael, but found him aristocratic and full of himself. He'd continued, however, to try and include the young man in various parties and gatherings throughout their senior year. Michael usually managed to make himself disliked almost from the moment he arrived, so eventually Jeff stopped inviting him.

When Michael realized he was being shut out, he began showing up at the Tracy Farm at all hours of the day and night. At first, Ruth had felt sorry for him, and tried to be nice to him, inviting him over for dinner and encouraging Jeff to take him fishing. Michael, however, did nothing but use Jeff's parents, and after several unfriendly altercations, Jeff and his mother had a discussion about the young man, during which Jeff had called Michael an "A-hole". Ruth's stern reply had been, "A-corn, dear. Acorn." Young Jeff had laughed and from that day on he'd referred to Michael Canton II as My Acorn.

It also didn't help matters that as soon as Michael the 2nd had met Lucille, he'd wanted her. Michael's father was the mighty conqueror type...if he wanted something he just took it. His son worked the same angle with Lucy, but she wanted no part of him. So no matter how hard he tried, both with girls and with anything else in his life, he couldn't live up to his father's expectations.

About halfway through their senior year, now no longer on speaking terms thanks to a knockdown drag-out fight about Lucille, an incident occurred which burned whatever shell of a bridge had remained between Michael and Jeff. Due to his bad luck with girls, a rumor had begun circulating around Jefferson High that Michael was gay. When he was eventually confronted about it by a group of guys from the football team, he was so embarrassed that he'd missed an entire week of school.

The worst part was he'd been certain Jeff was behind it, when in actuality nothing could've been further from the truth. For the last two months of school, as the rest of the class ostracized him, Michael did everything he could think of to get Jeff expelled. He was determined to ruin Jeff's chances with the Air Force. He even went so far as to engineer a prank that sent Jefferson High's principal to the hospital with a broken leg. He'd planted evidence pointing to Jeff Tracy as the prime suspect, but eventually Jeff and his friends had found proof to the contrary, and two weeks before graduation, Michael Canton II found himself expelled from high school with no chance at getting his diploma.

Jeff knew Michael had never forgiven him for that, but he also knew that he hadn't needed his diploma. After his expulsion, he worked for his father for six years until the elder Canton died of a heart attack. My Acorn then took over Canton Corporation, which had grown considerably, and he'd been at its helm ever since.

Years later luck, or lack thereof, found Jeff Tracy forming an aeronautics company to try and get a fresh start for his family a year after the death of his wife. The more successful the company became, and the more wealth Jeff acquired, the more Michael Canton II hated him. Jeff vividly remembered the one run-in he'd had with him at the very lecture in Paris where he'd asked Brains to become Chief Engineer for International Rescue.

Frustrated and angry with himself for being unable to live up to his father's reputation, and with the additional slap in the face that Jeff himself wound up marrying Lucille, Michael's anger and ire had focused on the man he felt thwarted him. That primordial soup of misplaced hatred cooked and boiled within Michael, who vowed that one day he would take his revenge on Jefferson Tracy. That, he told himself, would just show his dead but still overbearing father how ruthless he could be.

Michael was less-than-kind after the lecture and accused Jeff of going into the same business as he just to bring him down. In addition, the rumors of his homosexuality, which he still blamed Jeff for, had caused more than their fair share of trouble for him throughout his life. Jeff insisted he'd had nothing to do with any of it, but Michael had gone on and on about how Jeff wanted what he had, wanted to destroy his life, wanted to take everything away from him.

When he'd finally had enough, Jeff just stood up and said, "Listen, Canton, I don't know what your problem is. I don't know why you've continued to hate me all these years. But I do know that the business I'm in has nothing to do with you or your family, or your companies! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see a man about a machine!"

He'd left Michael Canton II sputtering behind him and found Brains, spiriting him away in his limousine before Canton had a chance of catching up. He'd never heard another word from him. Until now.

Coming back to the present, he cleared his throat and checked the chronometer on Tracy One's control panel. "Eight minutes out from Los Angeles," he announced softly.

"Jeff? You okay?"

"Yeah, Mother. I'm okay. You know, it's funny; I thought I recognized that voice on the vidphone. I just couldn't place who it was."

"It's Michael Canton. Isn't it, Jeff." It was not a question.

"Yes, Mother. I'm almost certain of it. And if what Brains says about the UH-3 bombs is true, that just confirms it even more."

"I can't believe he'd go this far. All because of what happened all those years ago? And Lucille?"

"He never could stomach the fact that she married me."

"Jeff, this isn't an acronym, it's an anagram! That kid never was very bright in school."

Jeff chuckled in spite of himself. "Yeah, but he's obviously bright enough to figure us out."

"How on Earth did he find out about International Rescue?" Ruth asked.

"I can't imagine. He must have been tracking me since that day in Paris. One way or another, he's found out. And now my son and Kyrano's daughter are his prisoners."

"Mr. Tracy?" Kyrano piped up. "Who is Michael Canton?"

"A very sick man. And someone who's going to pay for what he's done if it's the last thing I ever do," Jeff replied.

02:42:06

Ruth looked up from where she'd been staring at the words My Acorn written on the scrap of paper in front of her. Her eyelids began drooping as she watched continuing coverage of the disaster in Washington, D.C. She was so tired. So awfully tired. An incoming signal jolted her awake and she scanned the vid portraits on the wall. At last her eyes came to rest on the beautiful picture of Lady Penelope. The string of pearls was lighting up, so Ruth opened a line.

"International Rescue here."

"Mrs. Tracy?" Penelope asked, one eyebrow raised as her face appeared on the screen.

"Hello, Penny. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Tracy, just fine. Where are Jeff and the others?"

Ruth sighed. "It's a long story."

"Well, Parker and I are about fifteen minutes away from Los Angeles. You can tell me all about it when we've arrived and settled in. I will contact you shortly. Lady Penelope out."

Ruth wished Penny and Parker were coming to the island instead of staying in L.A. Besides being friends, they would've been much-needed company, for she was getting lonely sitting there at Jeff's desk. Never in her life had she been so devoid of companionship as she had been this last hour. Silence hung like an ominous presence over the whole island, nearly screaming its truth about the dark circumstances now upon this normally tranquil and happy place.

"Jeff, I assume you overheard that?"

"Yes, Mother. I'm glad Penny will be in place shortly. Kyrano and I will probably be meeting with Ned Cook by the time she gets settled. I want you two to keep in touch with John. I'll expect a report on Penny's findings, if she's got any, once we're through with Ned."

"All right, Jeff. Good luck with Mr. Cook."

"Thanks, Mother. I'll be in touch."

02:48:12

With Virgil and Alan's assistance, and the help of some ten other International Rescue agents, Scott made sure the gaggle of people who'd come to take part in the biggest rescue of their lives were deployed over the entire area that had once been Washington, D.C. He remained on high alert, for every ten seconds, it seemed, some agent or other was calling in needing assistance, and Scott would have to check his notes and the agents' locators in order to send the most people there in the fastest manner possible.

The tricky thing was trying to get the heavy rescue equipment where it was needed. Burning rubble covering most of the city made for tough going with some of it, and since only Virgil and Alan were available for piloting duties, that meant only two machines could be deployed at any given time. They'd toyed with the idea of teaching some of the more mechanically inclined agents how to run minor pieces of equipment, but in the end decided the risk to those unfamiliar with their technology would be greater than the benefit they might provide.

So Scott also had the daunting task of trying to deploy Alan and Virgil in Firefly and The Mole in order of necessity. Given that 75% of the calls for both vehicles were dire in nature, that left Scott feeling like he was playing God, deciding who would get help first and, by default, who might die because of his decisions while others lived. It was a role he was loathe to take on, but one he knew was very necessary. Firefighters, police and rescue personnel from across the United States had begun to arrive. At least their equipment, though not as sophisticated as International Rescue's, would ease the burden on Virgil and Alan, and for that Scott was grateful.

Brains had not checked in as yet from the laboratory in Arlington he and three other agents had gone to with samples of debris from throughout the area. But Scott knew better than to bother him. He wanted Brains to work fast to determine if UH-3 was indeed the culprit in this attack. If so, it would give them a starting place as to who was behind all this. Having been away from Mobile Control, and therefore away from the open connection to Tracy One, Base and Thunderbird 5, Scott wasn't yet aware that his grandmother and father had already determined the source of their woes. Or at least, thought they had.

Scott finished up a call with Agent 120, who had discovered three survivors in the basement of a collapsed building on the other side of the city. There was no way for 120 or her companions to reach them, so Scott felt The Mole was needed.

"This is Mobile Control calling The Mole. Come in, Virgil."

"Mole here."

"How are you doing at your location?"

"Just on our way back up to the surface. There were five people down there. One of them was a baby. She...she didn't survive, Scott."

He heard the pain in his brother's voice and it echoed the pain he felt in his own chest. In a disaster of this magnitude, it was inevitable that they'd run into dead bodies, but it was always hardest to deal with when those dead bodies belonged to children. "How about the other four?"

Virgil took a deep breath before replying, "They're all right, the baby's mother has some broken bones, but she'll be okay. Physically, at least."

"All right, Virgil. Good work. As soon as you offload those people, I need you at reference 34-10. Agent 120 has found three people trapped in the basement of a burning building. It doesn't look like there's much time to get them out, so hurry."

"F.A.B., Scott. I'll radio as soon as I'm on the scene. Mole out."

"Mobile Control to Firefly. What's your status, Alan?"

"Clearing some debris so fire engines can get through. I should have it out of the way in about five minutes. How's Virgil doing?"

"He just rescued four people and I'm sending him over to another location."

"Where do you want me after I'm through here?"

Scott looked at his list. Medic Burkhart of Arlington Fire Company #1 had requested assistance in reaching the White House, which was surrounded on all sides by a high wall of flames they couldn't hope to get through. "All right, Alan, I'll need you to head directly to the White House. The engines are having no luck getting through a ring of fire surrounding it. You'll need to get the emergency personnel through and make sure they can get out again, just in case some of those folks are still alive."

"F.A.B., Scott. I have one more pile to get through here. Am going to fire a nitro pellet."

"All right, Alan. Be careful."

"Sure thing, Scott. Here goes."

But the explosion that Scott heard next didn't come from a small nitro pellet. He rose to his feet, gazing at a point about a mile away where a ball of fire rose into the sky. The color drained from his face as his jaw dropped. He reached down and pressed a button on the panel, never taking his eyes from the dissipating fireball.

"Firefly, this is Mobile Control. Come in." His hand began to tremble as he jabbed at the button again. "Alan, this is Scott. Can you hear me? Come in, please!"

The cold hand of fear gripped Scott's heart, nearly freezing it to a complete stop in his chest. He closed his eyes; doing everything he could to maintain his composure. When he reopened them, they glistened in the light of the sun. "Firefly, check in immediately!" Nothing. "Alan! Come in! Now!"

"Scott?" came a voice over the airwaves. "Scott, what is it? What's happened?"

"I don't know, John. I can't raise Alan."

"Hang on, I'll see if I can get a fix on him."

Scott's fingers drummed nervously on the panel. Alan had to be fine. He just had to.

"Scott..."

The sound of John's voice caused Fear's icy grip to tighten, nearly cutting off Scott's ability to breathe. "What is it, John?"

"I--I can't find Firefly's signal, Scott. She's just...disappeared."

"No," Scott whispered. "And Alan...what about Alan's GPS?"

There was a moment of silence before John replied, his voice barely audible. "No, Scott. I don't have him."

"No," came Scott's strained voice again. "No. Not Alan. Oh, god, no. Alan!" Scott abandoned Mobile Control without a moment's hesitation. He barely heard John's voice calling out to him as he sprinted towards where he'd seen the fireball. Not his baby brother, not the one he'd brought into the world, it couldn't be. Alan was fine, Alan was fine, he'd be okay...but John couldn't pick up Firefly. Or their brother. Tears stung Scott's eyes as his legs carried him faster than they'd ever carried him before. He had to know. No matter what had happened, he had to know. Now.

02:58:14

The first thing he felt like doing when he skidded to a halt near a hook-and-ladder unit on the scene was vomiting. For not twenty feet in front of him, Firefly was upside-down. It was bent in the middle, as though its metal hull had been heated until malleable, then twisted by giant hands before cooling. Its caterpillar treads were gone, leaving their black wheel tracks spinning uselessly. The front dozer was missing; Scott didn't even have it in his line of vision.

Seeing his uniform, two firemen rushed up to his side. "Is this one of yours?" one of them asked.

Scott nodded. "Yes. There was an explosion, and now we can't raise him."

"You'd better come with us."

Scott allowed the men to lead him around to the left of Firefly. Noxious fumes permeated the air, making him gag. One of the firemen put an oxygen mask on him as they walked, and when they rounded her front, Scott stopped dead in his tracks. The entire left side of the vehicle had been torn away, leaving the inside of the cockpit fully exposed. He looked down to where a group of paramedics and firefighters were gathered in a circle. He could hear the familiar sounds of CPR being performed and what was left of his heart forced its way into his throat.

He ran the last few feet to the circle and pushed his way through. "Oh, my God," he breathed, dropping to his knees beside a burned and motionless body. "Alan. Alan!"

02:59:58

02:59:59

03:00:00

 

Hour Four

The following takes place between 3:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

03:00:19

To Jeff Tracy, Ned Cook seemed different than he had during his television broadcast. Thinking he knew what the problem was, Jeff said, "Ned, I can't thank you enough for your discretion. In your business, this has gotta be a tough can of worms to keep closed."

Ned smiled as he shook first Jeff's hand, then Kyrano's. The three had met inside a room at a small flea-trap in one of the less desirable areas of Los Angeles, California. It had been determined that neither Jeff Tracy, nor the head of International Rescue, would ever be suspected of hanging ‘round a dump like this. That made it safe. For now.

"Well, Mr. Tracy, I recognized you as soon as you walked through the door. And since I knew I was meeting with someone from International Rescue, it wasn't too hard to put the pieces together. But you can count on my silence. I don't want to see you exposed any more than you do. Even though it would do wonders for my career..."

Jeff smiled knowingly. "Ned, if you can help us pull this off, you'll have the biggest story you've ever seen. An exclusive."

His face brightened. "You got that right!" Then his face darkened. "But I'm afraid I've made a grave error."

"How so?"

"I should never have broadcast that information about International Rescue, or about the two hostages."

"You were just doing your job."

"That may be true, but I failed to stop and take into account the consequences of my actions. Just like at the oil fire when Thunderbird 1 had to chase me down and erase the footage I had Joe take. I just wanted to get my story, and to hell with how it affected anyone else."

"I don't think I see the connection."

"Mr. Tracy, because I let it out about Acronym destroying D.C. as a precursor for wanting you to reveal yourselves, because I reported on the hostages...well, it's affected public opinion of you."

Now Jeff understood. "What's done is done, Ned. One way or another that information probably would've leaked out anyway. But given that you did report it, are you sure the members of International Rescuees want to help?"

"Oh, yes!" Ned nodded emphatically as he seated himself on the bed. "I've spoken to our board, and they've put the call out. Nearly half our membership is on their way here as we speak. The board is working on getting in touch with the rest of the families."

"Well, we've got an idea who this Acronym might be. We also think we know what those bombs were made of that destroyed D.C. I've got our scientists working on that angle right now."

"Mr. Tracy..."

They turned to look at Kyrano, whose eyes were closed.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Tracy, it's Tin-Tin. I'm finally picking her up again."

"Is she all right?"

"Who's Tin-Tin?"

"She's the female operative you referred to in your report."

"The one Acronym's holding?"

Jeff nodded, and then turned back to his friend. "Kyrano, is Tin-Tin all right?"

"Yes..." he said slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly his eyes popped open and he gave a start. "Sir! It's Gordon! She's with Gordon!"

"Are they okay?" he asked, gut churning.

"Yes, they are okay. They are somewhere very dark. She cannot see Gordon even though he is right next to her."

Jeff let out the breath he'd been holding. "Well, at least we know they're alive. Kyrano, do you think you could find them through this connection with your daughter?"

The Asiatic man nodded, then exclaimed, "Sir! They're underwater!"

"Underwater?!?"

"Yes, they are in a submarine."

"Where?"

"I do not know. She is not certain of their exact location."

Ned listened, taking everything in, storing it away in his mind. So, the woman named Tin-Tin was this man Kyrano's daughter, and somehow he was able to contact her telepathically. And the other operative being held hostage was named Gordon. Wait...Gordon?

"Did you say Gordon!?!" Ned asked, jumping to his feet.

"Why, yes. Gordon's the other hostage."

"Isn't...isn't he the one...who saved me and Joe? In Thunderbird 4?"

Jeff smiled softly and nodded. "Yes, that was Gordon."

"He talked us in. We were outta air, we were nearly dead, but he talked us in. He wouldn't let us give up. He risked everything down there in that underground river." Ned walked up to Jeff and laid a hand on his arm. When he spoke, his voice had lost its normal joviality. "I won't let Acronym kill him. Not the man who saved my life. Tell me what you want me to do."

03:13:16

"John! What's going on?!?"

"I don't know, Grandma, I think something's happened to Alan!"

"We'd better get Jeff on the line."

"On it. John Tracy to Jeff Tracy. Emergency! Please respond!"

"Oh, dear!" Penny exclaimed from her hotel room as Parker brought in a tray of biscuits and tea. As soon as they'd gotten settled, John had patched her into the continuous communication going on between Tracy One, Mobile Control and the island base. "What could have happened?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good. Especially if Scott's left Mobile Control."

"H'anythin' h'else I can do, m'lady?"

"Hold tight, Parker. I daresay Jeff will need us somewhere rather quickly."

"Yes, m'lady," Parker replied.

Penny was concerned for Ruth. As she watched from her vid portrait on the wall, she noticed the elderly woman looked quite tired. "Are you all right, Mrs. Tracy?"

"My dear, I think it's high time you called me Ruth. You know I don't stand on decorum. And yes, I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Penny laughed lightly. "All right, then, Ruth. Are you certain you're well?"

"Don't you worry about me, Penelope. Jeff didn't get all his stubbornness from his father, you know."

03:15:03

"They shot you down?"

Tin-Tin nodded, even though she knew Gordon couldn't see her. "Yes, it was a small jet. I was so busy listening to what was going on back at Base, I didn't even see it until it was on me."

"Are you hurt?"

"Bumps and bruises, but I think I'll be fine."

"Tin-Tin, do you know what's going on? Who's holding us?"

She told Gordon the story of Washington, D.C. and Acronym, as well as the ultimatum his father had received regarding International Rescue. "Gordon, if...if your father doesn't reveal our identities, Acronym said...well, he said he was going to kill you."

Gordon's hand found Tin-Tin's, which still rested upon his leg, and he squeezed it. "Don't worry. We'll be okay."

"I wish I had your confidence. Oh, Alan and the others must be frantic by now!"

"If I know Alan, he's probably hijacked a plane and is on his way to rescue you as we speak."

"Not if your father has anything to do with it. International Rescue's needed in Washington...or what's left of it."

Gordon suddenly became silent. It was a few moments before he found his voice. "I can't believe they destroyed the entire city. I just can't believe it. All those people...and all because of us. What Father must be thinking..."

"I know. For all the lives we've saved over the years, that many may have just been wiped out in a single, vicious act. What do you think your father will do?"

"Move Heaven and Earth, Tin-Tin. Move Heaven and Earth."

03:29:44

Jeff heard the emergency signal coming through his watch. He raised his wrist to his face and found John's agitated countenance staring back at him. "John? What is it?"

"Are we in the clear?"

Jeff looked up to where Ned was speaking with Kyrano across the room. He turned to face the wall and whispered, "Yes, we are. What's happened?"

"Father, it's Alan."

The elder Tracy froze. "Alan?"

"Yes, Grandma and I don't know what's going on. We heard Alan tell Scott he was going to fire a nitro pellet into a pile of rubble. Then there was an explosion. Both Firefly and Alan's signals have disappeared."

Jeff closed his eyes. First Gordon, then Tin-Tin. And now Alan. "What's Scott say?"

"I can't raise him, Father. He left Mobile Control right after I told him I couldn't pick up Alan's GPS. I've been trying his watch, but I can't get him to answer."

Jeff sighed. "Has Penny arrived in Los Angeles yet?"

"Yes, Father, only just. She and Parker are in their motel room now, they've been trying to help us raise Scott."

"Well, we've just about wrapped it up with Ned. I think we've got a good plan of action here. Patch me through to Penny."

"F.A.B."

"Jeff, this is Penelope."

"Hi, Penny. Wish we were speaking under better circumstances."

"As do I."

"Have you been able to find Scott?"

"No, I'm afraid he's not answering. Parker's on the line with Virgil now, using Firefly's last known coordinates in an attempt to get him over to where the explosion occurred."

"Dammit!" Jeff swore, slamming the back of his fist against the wall. Ned and Kyrano turned to look at him, shocked by his outburst.

"What is it, Sir?" Kyrano asked, approaching him.

"It's Alan. Something may have happened to him, but nobody's been able to get hold of Scott to find out. This is just getting worse and worse by the minute!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy," Ned said as he came to stand next to Kyrano.

Leaning against the wall with his arm, Jeff's head hung low for a moment as he tried to think, tried to come up with solutions for a game that was changing faster than the rule book could keep up. "Maybe I should just reveal our identities," he said quietly. "If I did that, Acronym would let Gordon and Tin-Tin go. And no one else would have to get hurt."

Kyrano and the reporter exchanged worried looks. It was finally Ned who gave voice to their thoughts. "Mr. Tracy, I know I'm not a part of International Rescue, and I probably have no right voicing my opinion on the matter, but if I were you, I wouldn't give in. We still have time."

"Time for what?" Jeff asked, standing up straight and looking right into Ned's eyes. "Time for the public to end up hating us? Time for the rest of my family to die while I sit here trying to choose between their lives and International Rescue?"

Ah, Ned thought. So that's it. They're family. They're all family. Gordon must be one of his sons. No wonder he's so broken up about this. Aloud he replied, "How do you know Acronym will really let them go like he says? How can you trust a guy who wipes out a whole city with no warning whatsoever?"

Jeff looked from Ned to Kyrano, whose silent gaze told him he was in agreement with the reporter. He rubbed a weary hand down his face and nodded slowly. "You're right. You're both right. Okay, Ned, let's proceed as discussed. Keep in touch on that frequency I gave you."

"I will, Mr. Tracy. And good luck."

"You, too. And Ned? Thanks."

Ned smiled and nodded as Kyrano opened the door. Jeff lifted his wrist to his face. "I suppose you heard all that, Penny."

"Yes, I did. And let me tell you something, Jefferson Tracy, if I ever hear you speak in that manner again, I shall make your life utterly miserable!"

He chuckled. "The only way you could do that is by not being there for me, Pen." He thought for a moment before continuing. "I should really get over to D.C. and see about Alan."

"No, Jeff!" came Penny's alarmed reply. "You can't!"

"Whaddya mean I can't?" Jeff retorted as he and Kyrano entered their car.

"Listen to me. Scott and Virgil are there and Brains is nearby. You have nearly three hundred International Rescue agents, each one of them personally approved by you, who are also there to assist."

"But I'm his father!"

"Yes, you are. And you're also Jeff Tracy. You know very well you could easily be recognized. Showing such great concern for a member of International Rescue could very well be your undoing as well as the organization's."

Jeff silently contemplated Penny's words.

"That's not all, Jeff. It could also be the end of Gordon and Tin-Tin's lives."

Kyrano looked at his friend with fear upon his face. Jeff closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was steer his jet to the opposite coast where his sons needed him. But Penny's points were all valid. Taking a deep breath, he nodded at her, and she visibly relaxed.

"Well, if I can't personally be there for Alan, I will personally help Gordon and Tin-Tin."

"What have you in mind, Jeff?"

"Penny? Kyrano? Here's what we're going to do..."

03:40:26

"Alan! Oh, god, Alan!" Scott cried as he got a good look at his baby brother.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but please, you must stay back so we can try to save his life."

"Is he breathing?!?" Scott asked as one of the firemen escorted him out of the circle. He strained to continue watching. "Is he alive???"

No one answered. As the paramedics pumped Alan's chest and breathed into his mouth, Scott couldn't keep one tear from escaping an eye and rolling down his cheek. He couldn't even move to wipe it away as it landed on the mask over his nose and mouth. Suddenly, a familiar sound cut through the din. It took him a bit to realize it was his com watch. Scott's heart left his throat and sank right down to the bottom of his shoes. His family. How was he going to tell his family?

Scott's voice was flat and lifeless as he spoke. "Scott here."

"Scott! There you are!" Virgil's worried face appeared in the watch dial. "Everybody's been frantic trying to raise you! John said something happened to Alan! Is he okay?"

"I-I don't know, Virg. Get here. Please."

The unspoken but clearly implied meaning was I need you. Virgil read it loud and clear and replied, "Two minutes. I'm there in two minutes."

Scott stripped the oxygen mask off and handed it to one of the two firemen who flanked him. He could do nothing but stand there helplessly as the medics tried valiantly to save his little brother's life. From what Scott had seen, most of his hair looked singed, his body burnt. There was barely a scrap of uniform left. His face seemed to be in good condition, but one look at Firefly told Scott that whatever had happened didn't bode well for his baby brother.

"Do we know what caused the explosion?" he finally asked.

"Well, Mr., uh, Mr...."

"Scott. Name's Scott," he said, reaching out and shaking both firemen's hands.

"Right. I'm Aaron and that's Al."

Scott blanched at the man's name. Al is what he'd always called Alan, ever since he was a kid. He recovered enough to nod and reply, "Pleased to meet some of this country's bravest heroes."

"Same here, Scott. You fellas are our heroes, no matter what anyone says. Best we can figure, one of those little bombs that destroyed the city to begin with didn't detonate. Whatever your friend was doing, he must've hit it somehow and set it off."

Scott closed his eyes and shook his head. "The nitro pellet. He was firing a nitro pellet to blast through the last of the debris," he breathed.

"Oh, that'd sure do it," the fireman named Al commented.

Just then, the sound of loud machinery deafened them. Scott turned to see the Mole pull up behind the hook-and-ladder. As Virgil emerged from the metal beast, a sharp cry of joy pierced the air.

"I've got a pulse!"

Scott raced back to the circle surrounding his fallen brother. He knelt next to Alan's head and stroked his blackened hair as his chest rose and fell softly. A shiver ran through him as his hand came away covered with strands of hair.

"Oh, Al," he said softly. "You're gonna be okay now. You're gonna be okay."

"Scott!" Virgil cried, running up and kneeling next to him. He looked down at Alan, whose face had just been covered with an oxygen mask. A huge burst of air escaped his mouth as his chest heaved, only a strangled cry escaping his throat.

Scott felt stronger already, both because Alan was alive and because his closest sibling was now there. He placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder and rose to his feet, bringing his brother up with him. Neither had taken their eyes from Alan's prone form as the medics stabilized him and placed him on a hover stretcher.

"Is he...is he..." Virgil choked out.

"He's breathing. They just got him breathing," Scott replied, fighting the urge to lose control of his emotions.

Virgil nodded slowly as the paramedics rushed Alan to the ambulance. "One of us oughtta go. He shouldn't be alone right now."

Scott was torn. The big brother in him wanted desperately to hop into that ambulance with Alan. But the International Rescue part of him knew he was badly needed there at the Danger Zone. Just then, Brains and three others rushed up behind them.

"Scott! Virgil! I-I heard the news from Base that something's happened to A-Alan! Nobody knows what's going on!"

"Dammit, I have to get in touch with ‘em," Scott said. He looked at the ambulance again, where the medics were settling Alan in for what was sure to be a bumpy ride out of the city.

Brains followed his gaze. "I'll go," he offered quietly.

"No, Brains, I need you here to operate the equipment. With Alan gone..."

A woman who looked to be about their age stepped forward from behind Brains. "Hi," she said, holding her hand out to Scott. "Agent One-Thirteen."

Scott nodded slightly and shook her hand.

"If you want someone to stay with him, I'll go. I'm doctor of forensic medicine, I can keep an eye on what's going on at the hospital and maintain contact with you."

Scott, Virgil and Brains exchanged glances. They all nodded in silent agreement.

"Okay, 113," Scott said. "I'd greatly appreciate it." As she began walking away, he ran after her. "Here!" he said, removing the com watch from his wrist. "Use this to stay in touch. It's a direct link to Mobile Control."

113 turned, smiled and took the watch from Scott's hand. "I know we don't use names much here, but if you don't mind my asking..." she said, nodding her head toward the ambulance.

"Alan. His name's Alan," Scott replied.

She nodded and leapt into the back of the ambulance. "I'll take good care of him!" she called out. The two firemen, Aaron and Al, closed the doors behind her and pounded on the sides of the vehicle, letting them know it was okay to go.

Virgil and Brains came to stand on either side of Scott, and they watched the ambulance speed away, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

"Her name," Scott said. "I didn't even think to ask her name."

03:50:21

Ruth and Penny turned at the sound of an incoming transmission. The portraits on the wall soon revealed who was calling in.

"Scott!" Ruth cried as she jabbed the line open. "Scott! Where have you been?"

"Sorry, Grandma," he smiled tiredly.

"Is Alan all right? What happened?" Penelope asked.

"Hi, Penny," Scott acknowledged from his spot on the next wall. "Alan was using Firefly to clear debris, and best they can figure, he fired a nitro pellet right into an unexploded UH-3 bomb."

"Alan," Ruth said, rising to her feet. "What about Alan? How is he?"

"Well, he's alive, but he's in bad shape, Grandma. One of our agents, a doctor, is going with him to the hospital."

"I'm going, too," Ruth announced.

"Ruth..."

"No, Penny. I'm not going to sit here while my grandson lies in a hospital somewhere with only a stranger to look out for him."

"Scott? Mother? Penny? What's going on?"

"Ah, Jeff. Scott's just rung us with news about Alan," Penny replied.

"How is he, Scott?"

"Not too good, Dad. We sent Agent 113 with him in the ambulance. I'm getting ready to deploy Virgil again in the Mole, but Firefly's shot."

"113, you say?"

"Yeah, Father, do you know her?"

"Sure, she's in forensics. I met her two years ago in Brazil. It was pure happenstance, but I knew she was agent material. Dr. Megan Crawford. Now, listen up. Kyrano says Gordon and Tin-Tin are underwater somewhere. When we get back to Base, we'll need to try and pinpoint their exact location."

"Jeff, I will not sit idly by while Alan's thousands of miles away! I want someone to take me to Alan immediately!" Ruth practically ordered.

He sighed. Jeff understood exactly where she was coming from. He wanted to see his son, too. "All right. I'll pick you up and take you myself. Kyrano will have to man our equipment on Base."

"Jeff, I thought we discussed this already."

"Dammit, Penny, I know we did. But I can't just leave him there without seeing him. I can't."

There was a moment's silence until she replied, "I understand."

Jeff nodded his thanks. "What've you come up with on your end?"

"Well, your mother briefed me on the theory that it is Michael Canton who's engineering this whole thing. Based on that supposition, I made some inquiries and discovered that he's in possession of at least seven homes the world ‘round. He also owns many undeveloped properties in the United States, but I couldn't tie him to New Zealand at all."

"Mother? John? What about Tin-Tin's signal?"

"It's odd, Father," John replied. "It stopped for a while, then continued. Next thing I know, its shooting so fast it can only mean they took her somewhere in a plane or helijet."

"Yes," Kyrano said, his voice confident. "She was transported in an aircraft. She then boarded a submarine." The air waves were silent for a moment as they waited for more. "They're in a metal room. I feel her clearly."

"Jeff, I want to come with you," Penny said. She had the feeling he shouldn't be alone right now. She wanted to be there for him.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, "Right. Okay, here's the action: Kyrano and I should be home in less than an hour. When we arrive, we'll refuel and I'll take Mother to Los Angeles. We'll rendezvous with Penny and wait for Scott to arrive -- he can get us there faster than Tracy One. John, tell him to take off immediately."

"F.A.B., Father."

"H'and wot of Mister Kyrano and meself, Sir?"

"Parker, if you don't mind, I'm going to deploy you in FAB One. I don't have a way to transport you quickly, but I'd like you on the water. Hang about two hundred miles off the coast of California."

"Yes, Sir!" Parker said, glad to be of use.

"As for Kyrano, he'll be manning Base, but his primary objective will be to keep in contact with Tin-Tin at all times so we know what's happening over on their end. I'll also set him up with our monitoring equipment. Once we have a fix on all subs in the Pacific, we can start eliminating them."

"In contact with Tin-Tin?" Ruth questioned. "How?"

"With his mind," Penny replied, as if it was the silliest question she'd ever heard. "What shall we do once we've delivered Ruth to hospital?"

Jeff's face quirked into a half-grin at Penelope's use of his mother's first name. "We're going after Gordon and Tin-Tin."

A smile spread across Penny's face as she replied slowly, "F...A...B."

03:58:17

In spite of her best efforts, Megan Crawford wasn't allowed in the hospital's operating theatre, but watched from the viewing window as the staff struggled to bring Alan's blood pressure down and stabilize his heart rate. As they cut away what was left of his uniform and began to clean his skin, Megan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Doesn't look like his burns are as bad as we originally thought," she said to herself.

"Heart rate's dropping!"

"Ten cc's of dobutamine, stat!" the doctor ordered.

A nurse injected the drug directly into Alan's arm, but his pulse continued to decline.

"He's having trouble breathing, we need to intubate!"

"Get the paddles!"

"BP 91 over 42 and dropping!"

"Hold off, I need to get this tube in!"

The others raised their hands and waited for the doctor to insert a breathing tube into Alan's throat. A quick glance at the monitors showed he wasn't responding well.

"It's in!" the doctor announced.

One nurse moved to hook him up to the ventilator as another nurse brought over the atrial fibrillation machine. A third nurse cleaned Alan's legs, groin and stomach, while others applied gel medication to the burns to relieve pain and decrease the blistering. A sudden distinct mechanical whine froze them all in mid-action.

"I've lost the pulse! He's flatlining!"

"Ready AF!" A nurse placed two electrode patches on the skin directly above Alan's heart. "Stand clear!"

Everyone backed away as the doctor pressed a button. Alan's body lurched off the bed before thumping back down. The steady alarm and telltale line did not waver.

"Another ten cc's of dobutamine!"

A nurse elbowed in and jabbed Alan's arm with a syringe.

"Ready AF! Raise two points!"

She raised the voltage on the machine.

"Clear!"

Everyone stood down. The doctor pressed the button, and again Alan's body vaulted into the air, then pounded back down onto the bed. Still no heartbeat.

"Come on, Alan!" Megan shouted, palms against the viewing window. "You can do it! You can do it!" She thought of the bravery of this organization's members, an organization she was so honored to be a fringe member of. "He can't die. He just can't!"

"Ready AF! Raise three points! Ready? Clear!"

Alan's body arched upward one last time. Megan had to strain to see beyond the nurses to where the monitor hung above the bed. When at last it came into view, her eyes widened...

03:59:58

03:59:59

04:00:00

 

Hour Five

The following takes place between 4:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

04:00:58

Megan was jarred from the moment by an insistent beeping. At first she didn't know where it was coming from, but eventually figured out it was the watch given to her by the dark-haired member of International Rescue. She pulled it out of her pocket, but realized she hadn't a clue how to answer it.

"How do I get whoever it is to come in?" she wondered aloud. Suddenly that same man's face appeared on the watch dial. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Hello."

"Hi, Dr. Crawford."

"You...know my name."

"Yes. F--Erm--I checked the files to get it. How's Alan?"

Megan breathed a loud sigh of relief as she turned her attention back to the action beyond the viewing window. "He seems okay. I'll get the doctor to brief me in a few minutes."

"What aren't you telling me?"

Megan's eyes turned back to his. "They almost lost him." Scott closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, he saw her watching him, concern etched upon her face. "But I think he's good for now. I'll let you know as soon as I hear from the doctor."

"I'm bringing other members of International Rescue to the hospital. Once we arrive, I'd like you back at the lab to assist Brains. He's verified UH-3 as the component used in these bombs, and they're trying to figure a way to disarm the ones Acronym's planning to drop on Southern California. Just in case."

"Okay, I'll keep a lookout."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"It's just Megan."

He smiled wearily. "Fine. And my name's Scott."

"Right. See you after a bit."

"Call me immediately if anything changes."

"I will."

04:05:01

Virgil, who'd returned to the Mole, was on his way to the White House. Without Firefly to assist, he and Scott had determined the best way to get inside the ring of fire that still burned steadily around it was to take a handful of emergency personnel down in the gigantic drilling machine. Brains had been given the task of piloting the Laser Beam Equipment, or "Elbee," as they called it. He would take on using the vehicle's powerful laser beam to cut away obstructions elsewhere so rescues could be carried out.

At the same time, Brains was on an open channel with Dr. Godfrey and the two International Rescue agents/scientists who'd gone back to the lab in Arlington to begin working on a solution for neutralizing UH-3. Brains would work the problem with them remotely, while Dr. Crawford would join them there as soon as Jeff, Penny, Scott and Ruth arrived at the hospital. Ten other agents were currently using a large crane along with several other pieces of equipment to hoist Firefly out of the area and back to Thunderbird 2 as quickly as possible to avoid potential breaches of security.

Before leaving, Scott reconnoitered where all the other operatives were, updated his charts and set about the task of ensuring people were deployed where they were needed. He was understandably upset by Megan's statement that they'd almost lost Alan, but also greatly relieved to hear he'd survived. And he was glad he'd be seeing him soon.

Given what some of the agents on the perimeter of the Danger Zone were saying, Scott was secretly glad Mobile Control had been set up further in. Apparently people were beginning to gather, and some rather unfriendly sentiments toward International Rescue were being expressed in no uncertain terms. Fortunately for the agents, however, no one outside the organization knew they were International Rescue. So they were, at least for the moment, safe from harm.

Now, as he raced Thunderbird 1 toward Los Angeles, he found it difficult to concentrate on flying her...fortunately, he'd been doing it for so long it was second nature. He was leaving Virgil out there in the thick of things, as well as Brains. His mind drifted to Gordon and Tin-Tin, both of whom were being held by that madman Acronym. And Alan, in the hospital fighting for his life. Everyone, it seemed, was in danger.

Little did Scott Tracy know that the danger was just beginning.

04:09:47

Gordon, who'd been lying on his back, rolled to the side and propped his head up on his hand. "How do you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?"

"You know, the stuff with Kyrano being able to read you. You feeling him."

"Well, my father comes from a long line of Practitioners. Being able to read me is an ability he has, and one that I have most likely inherited. But my blood is more diluted, so I don't have nearly his capabilities."

"Capabilities?"

Tin-Tin rolled over on her side, propping her head up on her hand as well. "Yes, such as being able to mentally connect with another mind, to ascertain how they're feeling, what thoughts they're thinking. Things like that."

"Oh. Wow. And, uh...you can't do that?"

Tin-Tin laughed in spite of their rather dire situation. "No, Gordon, I can't. Why, are you worried I might find out something about you that you don't want anyone to know?"

Had she been able to see him, she would've caught the slight blush that appeared on his cheeks. "No, ‘course not," he replied, his voice light. "Just wondering."

She sighed. "They must be doing something. I just wish we knew what."

"Well, Kyrano'll probably let you know, don'cha think?"

She sighed. "Yes, you're right. I'm certain he will. I just don't like having to wait around here for someone else to decide our fates."

Gordon's mind began to work the problem. He came to his feet and began pacing back and forth across the room.

"What are you doing, Gordon?"

"Thinking Tin-Tin. Thinking."

"About what?"

"I'm gonna figure us a way out of here."

04:17:30

Los Angeles International Airport was buzzing. More so than usual. Abandoning his usual position as "First Man on the Scene," Ned Cook had taken on the role of Master Organizer. He found within Unity Airline's Horizon Club, which LAX had closed temporarily to assist International Rescuees in their efforts. Once there, group members would be given a debriefing as to their role in helping International Rescue.

Finding these people and getting them to the proper location was not, however, as easy a task as one might think. For starters, Southern California had been placed on the highest state of alert possible thanks to the threats made by Acronym. This had caused mass panic, so typical in situations such as these. Great hordes of people crowded LAX and every other airport, train station and bus terminal in the area. The freeways were jammed.

Ned, having covered several large stories from Los Angeles International Airport throughout his career, had become quite good friends with both the Transportation and Security Administration's top man and the head of Unity Airline's management. As such, he'd been able to finagle the use of several of their smaller aircraft to transport the Rescuees to different locales throughout Southern California.

The Ground Security Coordinator and head of Airport Police had their hands full with the crowds, so they truly couldn't be of much help. Once Ned got each person or family to the Club, it would be a matter of figuring out who was going where, and how to keep the press from interfering and discovering their plan of action. And how to keep them from finding out their connection to International Rescue, period.

That was where Ned came through again. His knowledge of how the media got wind of big stories like this almost completely ensured his ability to keep the whole thing quiet. And the desperate folks trying to escape the state were so focused on leaving they hadn't a care for the trickle of nondescript Average Joe's who were actually coming in to the airport.

Now, as Ned sat at a table inside the Club that he'd commandeered, he looked over his laptop computer screen, upon which a constant feed of his organization's passenger names, airlines and flights was coming through. While half of his brain was keeping up with flight information, the other half was checking people in and assigning them to locations as per the plan he and Jeff Tracy had worked out. It would be quite some time before the majority of the Rescuees arrived, but already Ned was feeling the pressure.

After all, International Rescue had saved his life. And the lives of all these people who were now arriving with their loved ones. It was their chance to pay them back. This was the biggest thing Ned Cook had ever done. And he couldn't fail those great men who needed him now. He wouldn't.

04:29:59

"Jeff, how much longer ‘til we're at the hospital?"

He smiled, raising his eyebrows as he stole a sideways glance at Ruth. "Mother, do you remember a certain someone telling me that if I asked ‘Are we there yet?' one more time she was going to stop the car and make me walk the rest of the way?"

"Jefferson Tracy, are you threatening to make me drop to earth like a stone in order to see my grandson?"

"Of course not, Mother. I'll give you a parachute."

Penny gasped softly. "Jeff!" But Ruth and her son were laughing together, and Penny frowned in consternation. Heavens, if she'd ever spoken to her parents in such a fashion, the outcome would have been much more severe than laughter.

"Really, Mother, we're only just over 20 minutes out now. We'll be there before you know it."

"All right, all right," Ruth muttered, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Well, I never," Penny said softly. "You two never cease to amaze me."

Ruth looked over her shoulder at her. "Penelope, my dear, to quote good Kansas folk, you ain't seen nothin' yet!"

Scott, listening to the banter in Thunderbird One's Lounge from his spot in the cockpit, couldn't help but laugh. His grandmother was right. Penny hadn't seen anything yet.

04:31:03

Kyrano continued to watch the news coverage about Washington, D.C. and kept in regular contact with John on the space station. He also allowed part of himself to hover with his daughter, wherever she was beneath the sea. He could feel her quite clearly, and she felt calm, if somewhat perturbed. He smiled. Only Tin-Tin would feel annoyance instead of fright in the face of such danger. He was glad she was not alone, however. Gordon would take care of her, as best he could. For his presence, Kyrano was grateful.

But he began to get the feeling that something was wrong. On some level, he felt very strange. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, but it somehow confused him. And then suddenly he realized the connection with his daughter had been severed. Trying desperately to re-establish it, he jumped when the vidphone behind him rang. He turned to face it, trying to keep his mind steady, knowing full well who it would be. He opened the line and said, "Hello?"

Voice Only was selected. And it was the same voice from before. "You're not Jefferson," he said.

"No. I am not. What can I do for you?"

"I will only talk to Jeff Tracy!"

"Please hold the line for one moment."

Kyrano placed Acronym on hold and opened a channel to Jeff's com watch. "Mr. Tracy, this is Kyrano. Please come in."

"I'm here, Kyrano. What's happening?"

"I have Acronym on the video phone, Sir. He will speak only with you. I thought perhaps it would not be wise to state you are unavailable."

"Good point. Okay, can you patch us through?"

"I can do that for you, Father," came John's voice. "Gimme a sec."

Within moments, John had patched Jeff's Lounge vid phone directly through to his watch. Jeff quickly motioned for both Penny and his mother to remain silent.

"This is Jeff Tracy," he said.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry when you didn't answer your line."

"Well, I'm here now. What do you want?"

"I want to know what you're doing about our little agreement."

"I've made no agreement with you."

"You should reconsider that position, Jefferson. Especially considering that I now have two hostages. You were aware of that, were you not?"

"You told a television station, how could I have missed it?"

Acronym laughed. Jeff thought hard. Did he want to let the man know they were on to his identity? What purpose could it serve? The only result Jeff could see at this point would be the quick deaths of Tin-Tin and Gordon. No, best to keep that to himself until they had a better grasp of the situation.

"Well, then, I suspect you are most likely trying to come up with a plan to foil what I have in store for you and for Southern California. Mark my words, Jefferson: if you attempt to do anything but what you have been instructed to do, that is, reveal your identities to the rest of the world, your son and Kyrano's daughter will die."

Jeff's face hardened. His eyes were on fire.

"Not to mention the millions of innocent people in California," Acronym added. "And you'd better do it soon, Tracy. People out there are starting to say some nasty things about you."

Opening his mouth to reply, Jeff didn't get the chance as Acronym closed down. "That sonofabitch," he swore softly. "What I don't get is why he doesn't just tell the world himself! He obviously knows everything about us. It doesn't make sense. Damn him for putting Gordon and Tin-Tin in danger for no reason."

"Don't worry, Jeff," Penny said, hoping to calm him. "They're still all right. They'll be all right."

Jeff raised his watch to his face once more. "Kyrano, are you still sensing Tin-Tin?"

There was no reply.

"Kyrano?"

Silence.

"Oh, God," Jeff moaned, his eyes darkening. "Not now. Please not now."

04:45:47

Tin-Tin blanched, gasping at the jolt of pain that shot through her head.

"What is it?" Gordon asked, making his way to her side.

"Father," she breathed, tears coming to her eyes.

"Kyrano? What? What's wrong?"

"He's...he's left me. I--I can't feel him any longer."

"Maybe he's just busy doing something else."

"No," Tin-Tin whispered. "It doesn't feel that way. He's just...gone."

04:48:12

"Scott?"

"Yes, Father."

"As soon as we drop Grandma in Arlington, I need you to high-tail it back to the island as fast as your engines will go."

"What's going on?"

"We've lost contact with Kyrano."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, son. But you, Penny and I need to get back there ASAP."

"F.A.B."

"I'll have Mother send Dr. Crawford to the laboratory in a cab. Brains will join them and figure out how to stop those UH-3 bombs."

"I wonder what's happened to Kyrano."

"Right now, I have no idea. But I've got a bad feeling. A very bad feeling."

04:51:10

From the Grand Chamber in the bowels of his majestic Malaysian temple, a man known to the world as arch-criminal the Hood stood with arms spread wide. Without a word, he slowly brought them together until his hands rested palm-to-palm. In front of him on a raised dais, beaded curtains swished closed, hiding a bronze statue behind their glittering shroud. The Hood grimaced, his eyes glowing with anger.

"Who does this Acronym think he is?" the evil man spat, turning to walk to a nearby table. "He thinks he will have all the glory for unmasking International Rescue?"

Kyrano, though more difficult to get through to this time, had served him well. And whoever this Acronym was, there was no way the Hood was going to let him continue with his plot to unmask International Rescue. He felt their secrets were his and his alone. He had worked so long to own them, and now someone else was threatening to take his place as the one who brought them to their knees. He headed for his dressing room. Now was the time for action. Honestly, for that simpleton to think he could so easily take from the Hood what was rightfully his. The nerve!

"Fool!" he barked as maidservants came to disrobe him. "He shall pay for this. He shall not prevail!"

04:53:04

"This is Thunderbird One on broadcast. We're landing at the hospital now. I'll be in touch as soon as we're on our way again."

Scott was having a very hard time with this. All he wanted to do was get out of his Thunderbird and go see his baby brother. But if Kyrano wasn't responding to his father's hails, it could mean very menacing things...things which should not be left alone. In the end, he knew it was best to stay put and continue trying to get through to the island. If only he could get his mind to stop wandering to all the possible horrors that might await them there...

04:55:56

Kyrano didn't move a muscle. This last attack by his half-brother had been worse than any to come before it. The Hood had probed so deeply into his mind, so completely overtaken him, that his body began shutting down in an effort to protect the man from the mental invasion. Continued cries trying to rouse him came over the speakers placed here and there throughout the Lounge, but Kyrano did not hear. He could not. For as each second ticked away, as each grain of sand passed through the hourglass, so did his heart slow.

He could not raise his consciousness, could not locate his daughter's mind.

And slow.

He couldn't make his voice work, couldn't get a single word to form upon his lips.

And slow.

I will not allow this to take me.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

I cannot leave them now. They need me too much.

Ba...bump. Ba...bump. Ba...bump.

They don't even know that he knows. They don't know the Hood knows. They...they don't...

Ba...ba...bump.

Ba...ba...ba...bump.

Bump...

04:59:58

04:59:59

05:00:00

 

Hour Six

The following takes place between 5:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

05:00:02

Jeff and Ruth raced into the hospital, leaving Scott and Penny waiting in Thunderbird 1. Their inquiries as to the International Rescue member brought in led them to a fourth-floor operating ward. Jeff recognized Dr. Crawford immediately. She was speaking with a physician in full surgical gear. Ruth stood by the viewing window, where she could see nurses dressing Alan's wounds and taping down various needles and tubes inserted into his body. Tears sprang to her eyes.

The surgeon turned away from Megan and stepped back into the operating room as Jeff strode over. "Dr. Crawford. Thank you for being here for Alan."

Megan turned and smiled when she saw who was speaking. "Hi, Mr. Tracy. Good to see you again," she said, shaking his hand. "Although I do wish it were under better circumstances."

"As do I. And please, call me Jeff. That way I can pretend I'm not old enough to be your father."

Megan laughed. She'd forgotten what a decent sense of humor this man had. The three days she'd spent in his company two years ago in Brazil had been enjoyable. They'd met by chance at a restaurant, where she'd recognized him from his mission to the Moon. They'd gotten to chatting that evening and had spent several hours over the next two days together, talking about what Megan did, about her family, her background. It was only on the afternoon of the third day, right before he was due to leave Brazil that she found out why he'd been grilling her so much. He wanted her to become an agent for International Rescue. She had never been more pleased or honored, and had readily agreed.

And now, even in the least pleasant of circumstances, he maintained the charming persona she remembered so well. She turned toward the surgeon, who was just returning. "All right, then. Jeff, this is Dr. Gray. He's the one who saved Alan's life."

Jeff stuck his hand out to the fifty-ish salt-and-pepper-haired man standing before him as Megan headed for the ladies room. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done, Doctor. Could you please give me the details?"

It wasn't really a question. It was more like an order. Dr. Gray cocked his head in surprise. Whoever this man standing before him was, he guessed it was a man used to being in command. And since the life he'd just saved belonged to a member of International Rescue...well, the good doctor was no dummy. Still and all, there were rules to be followed.

"I need to know your relationship to the patient. I can't disclose confidential information to just anyone."

Jeff closed his eyes. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. The doctor probably already had an idea as to his involvement with International Rescue at this point, but if he so much as had an inkling about his true relationship to Alan, it could pose problems. He turned to his mother. She understood immediately and pulled her wallet from her purse.

"Dr. Gray, my name is Ruth Tracy. Your patient's name is Alan Tracy. I'm his grandmother."

The doctor looked at Ruth's ID card and nodded before turning to Jeff. "And you, Sir?"

His face like stone, Jeff said, "I'll wait here."

Dr. Gray nodded. "Yes, of course. Mrs. Tracy, if you'll follow me to the waiting room just down the hall, we can discuss the patient's condition."

When they'd reached the security of the glass-walled waiting room, Ruth asked, "What are they doing to him now?"

"They're preparing him to be moved to Intensive Care, ma'am."

Jeff waited near the OR. Megan soon emerged from the ladies room and approached him. "Where'd everybody go?"

"The doctor is speaking to..." Jeff hesitated. Megan knew his full name, but not Ruth's or Alan's last names. "He's speaking to my companion regarding Alan's condition."

Megan frowned as she looked down the hall toward the waiting room. Why on Earth would Jeff have sent the woman to speak with the doctor and not gone himself?

"Please have a seat," Dr. Gray said, doing the same. "Now, whatever it was that happened to this man out there, it caused severe 3rd degree burns, but only over about 5% of his body. Luckily for him, the uniform he wore took the brunt of the heat. Must be some kind of special material. At any rate, I cannot be certain why his blood pressure dropped and his heart stopped earlier, but there is one possibility."

"Alan's heart...stopped?" Ruth asked, biting her lower lip.

"Yes, I'm afraid it did. We had to intubate him to get him breathing, and we had to use the atrial fibrillator to restart his heart."

"What's the possibility you spoke of?" she asked.

"Well, to be frank, I think young Alan took a severe blow to the head. It's possible that affected the automatic functions of his body, things like breathing and heartbeat. We'll go ahead and do some brain scans to determine if there is any damage."

Ruth came to her feet. "Can I see him?"

"Five minutes. And don't get in the nurses' ways."

She nodded and headed back to where Alan was still being prepared for the ICU. Noting that the doctor had gone the opposite direction, she motioned for Jeff to join her.

He entered the room musing that it wasn't the first time he'd been to a hospital to visit an injured son. Gordon had by far suffered the most frightening and severe injury to date, but it never failed to make his heart skip several beats when any of his boys were injured. Ruth quietly explained what the doctor had told her.

He was relieved to see that, as Dr. Gray had said, the terrible burns Alan had received were few and far between. His chest seemed to be rising and falling normally, and a look at the heart rate monitor told him something he already knew: his son was a fighter. He reached down and grabbed one of Alan's hands, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Then he bent down so that his lips were near Alan's ear and said, "I can't be here for you right now, son. But Grandma is here. She'll stay with you until you're better. Don't worry about anything. We'll find Gordon and Tin-Tin and we'll see they're brought home safe and sound. You concentrate on getting better so you can be there when they return." He drew back and stared at his unconscious son's face. Then he spoke once more. "I love you, Alan."

Standing in the doorway to keep watch for Dr. Gray, Ruth couldn't help the tears that escaped her eyes as she listened to her son's words. When the doctor rounded the far corner, she hurried to Alan's bedside.

"Jeff, you have to leave."

He nodded. "Take care of him for me, Mother." Taking one last look at his son, he turned walked out of the room.

05:13:59

"Dammit, there has to be a way outta this!" Gordon's frustration was more than apparent. Tin-Tin had never quite heard her unflappable housemate sound so...annoyed.

"If we're underwater, that probably means we're in a submarine. And judging by the pressure on my eardrums, I'd say we're fairly deep."

"Right," replied Gordon, who'd given up pacing and now sat against the far wall, knees tucked under his chin. "And that's the problem. We can't just escape through a hatch. If we're deep enough, the pressure would kill us as soon as we hit the water."

Still unwilling to let him stay out of her personal space for too long, Tin-Tin inched her way over and leaned on the wall next to him. "Depressurization Diving Suits."

"DDS's? But how do we know if they have 'em?"

"We don't," she sighed. "We also don't know where they'd keep them if they do."

"I know," he replied confidently. "I know exactly where they'd keep them."

"There's still the door," she reminded him gently.

"Tin-Tin?" he said, a smile on his face. "Prepare yourself. I'm about to play magician." Halfway across the room, Gordon nearly jumped out of his skin when she gasped. He whirled around to face the sound and said her name. When she didn't reply, he retraced his steps, hands low in front of him to feel for her so he wouldn't step on her. "Tin-Tin?"

"Gordon...Gordon..." Her breath was uneven and her voice made it sound like she was in pain.

He knelt next to her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on her leg. "What is it?"

"Oh, Gordon, it's Father!" she cried, unable to keep the tears at bay.

"What about him?"

"He's...he's dying!"

05:20:00

"Have you heard from Kyrano?"

"No, Father, I haven't been able to raise him."

"All right, Scott, I'm strapped in. Let's get back to Base."

"F.A.B. Here we go."

Thunderbird One's VTOL rocket fired and she lifted effortlessly into the air. Scott increased speed until he was doing well over 7,500 miles per hour. When at last she was cruising along, he decided it was time to ask.

"Father? How's Al?"

"I was just telling Penny. He's stable for now, son. They...they almost lost him. His heart stopped." Scott shook his head. He could hear the pain in his father's voice.

"He's intubated and on a ventilator. IV's, feeding lines, the usual. They were about to move him to Intensive Care when I left. Grandma's not allowed to stay in there with him, but she's going to hover outside."

Scott chuckled. "That sounds like Grandma. What about Dr. Crawford? Did she get off to the lab okay?"

"Yes. When I explained the situation to Dr. Gray, the doctor who saved Alan's life, he insisted on the hospital transporting her there in an ambulance so she could arrive as quickly as possible."

"All right. I'll radio Brains and let him know. They think they've got a line on how to stop those UH-3's. But from the sounds of it, Thunderbird 3's gonna have to launch."

"Thunderbird 3?"

"Yes. Whatever they want to make has to be dropped into the atmosphere."

"Scott? Patch me through to Brains."

"F.A.B. This is Thunderbird One calling Brains. Come in, Brains."

05:24:04

"This is, uh, Brains. Go ahead."

"Brains, this is Jeff."

"Hello, Mr. Tracy. Uh, how's A-Alan?"

"They're moving him to the ICU. He gave us a bit of a scare, but they've stabilized him."

"That's, uh, good news."

"Now what's this Scott's telling me about Thunderbird 3 and Southern California?"

"Well, Sir, uh, we may have discovered a method by which the outer layer o-of the devices can be kept from dissolving, which would mean the, uh, UH-3 would still be too protected to e-explode upon impact."

"How's the device work?"

"Y-You see, the UH-3 is kept protected within a thin shell made o-of polystelenium. Rate o-of descent e-ensures the shell will, uh, buckle a-as soon as it makes contact with a, uh, solid o-object."

"And what about this outer layer?"

"That's the, uh, most difficult part of the whole thing. Doctors Godfrey, Otayuki, Payne and I think we may have determined how the protective outer layers of the devices are shed during their descent through the, uh, rarified a-atmosphere."

"What's the problem?"

"We don't have the, uh, necessary ingredients to create what Thunderbird 3 will need to drop on them as they descend."

"Right, Brains. Where can you get what you need?"

There was a moment's hesitation before he replied, "My laboratory."

"Dammit!" Jeff swore.

"And, uh, it's not something I can do alone. I-I'll need extra hands and know-how."

Jeff took a deep breath. No matter what happened, things just got more and more complicated. "Scott, how far have we come?"

"We're ten minutes out."

"All right. Turn around and pick up Brains and the other scientists."

"F.A.B."

"Brains, Thunderbird One's turning around. We'll be with you in about ten minutes. Make sure Dr. Crawford's with you. It'll be cramped in the cargo space, but it's the fastest way to get you home."

"Yes, Sir, uh, Mr. Tracy. We'll be ready."

"Jeff, do you think it's wise to bring the other scientists to Tracy Island?"

"I don't know if it's wise, Penny, but at this point I see very little in the way of alternatives."

Penny nodded silently as she watched Jeff out the corner of her eye. His fists clenched and unclenched in barely concealed irritation. "Jeff?" she said softly.

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable.

"Are you all right?"

"Honestly?"

"Always."

"No. I'm not. I swear, Penny, if anything else goes wrong, I don't know what I'm going to do."

Penny unbuckled herself and rose gracefully to her feet. She crossed to Jeff and crouched down to be eye-level with him. Laying her delicate hands over his, she said, "It will be all right, Jeff. You must believe that."

He knew she was trying to encourage him, but Jeff was starting to doubt the possibility of success. Sure, Alan was okay...at least for the moment. But they still didn't know exactly where Tin-Tin and Gordon were, or how they were. Then there was Kyrano, for whose life he feared. Thunderbird 3 having to launch meant Scott wouldn't be on the ground to help. With Brains winding up back at Base lab, that left Virgil as the only senior International Rescue operative in the field.

Full of doubt, Jeff squeezed her hands, looked into her eyes and said, "I wish I could believe that right now, Penny. I wish I could."

05:38:57

"Father! No!"

"Tin-Tin!" Not knowing what else to do, Gordon allowed himself to hold her as she launched into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He smoothed her hair with one hand and rocked back and forth slowly. "Oh...Gor-Gordon...he's...oh, Father!"

"Is he alone? What's happened to him?"

"I...I don't...know!" she cried. "His heart...his heart...I can feel it...it's so slow. Gordon...it's barely beating!"

Think, Gordo, think! There has to be something! And just like that, it came to him. "Tin-Tin...you said you didn't have your father's capabilities."

She just shook her head, soaking his sweatshirt with her tears.

"How do you know that? Have you ever...have you ever tried?"

Lifting her head, she sniffled as she thought about that. Well, truthfully, she'd never really tried to do what her father could do. She'd given it half-hearted attempts in the past, but had inherited her mother's impatience, or so Kyrano always told her. This meant that she couldn't sit still long enough to even try and bring her mind to the level that Kyrano insisted she must in order to reach out over distances, over time and space, over the very fabric of the universe.

"Not really," she finally replied.

"Try it."

"Try what?"

"I don't know. I don't know how it works. But maybe...maybe if you, well, if you think about his heart beating faster, maybe it'll happen?"

She wiped the tears from her face. "I'm not sure I can."

"You have to try. He's your father. You have to try!"

Nodding, she moved out of Gordon's arms and seated herself cross-legged on the floor. Folding her hands palm-to-palm in front of her, she took several deep breaths.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know. Stay here with me. Right here. I may need to draw from your energy."

"Okay." Gordon moved to sit in front of her. He crossed his legs Indian-style and laid his hands on his thighs. "Now what?"

"Close your eyes," she commanded, her voice suddenly steady. "Take a deep breath in through your nose. Hold it to the count of eight and release through your mouth."

He did as requested.

"Do it again. With each count of eight, with each breath you release, picture all your cares escaping your body. Feel yourself relax."

He nodded and continued to inhale, count to eight and exhale. Inhale. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Exhale. To his surprise, it was actually working. In spite of the fact that they were being held hostage, in spite of the fact that there seemed to be no escape, in spite of everything, Gordon felt himself relaxing.

"Yes, that's it," Tin-Tin said softly. "Now we must think of Father. We must concentrate on finding his mind. It will be difficult, Gordon. He is almost gone." On that last word, she choked back a sob. But she knew she had to keep her mind on what she was doing. She could only pray she and Gordon together would be strong enough to keep Kyrano alive until he could get help.

05:44:27

Things were going much more smoothly for Ned Cook than he'd anticipated. Over one thousand members of International Rescuees and their families had arrived. He'd already sent three planeloads of people to Barstow, Palm Springs and San Diego. A message from Jeff Tracy had advised him to appoint one or two people in each group as leaders. Before too much time had passed, Mr. Tracy said, those leaders would need to take charge of each group and explain instructions that would come after a few hours.

Meanwhile, Los Angeles International Airport was bursting at the seams with panicked Southern Californians who were trying anything they could to get out of the state. There had even been two attempted hijackings by overly desperate individuals, but those had been stopped thanks to the Airport Police. Ned just shook his head sadly as one of the monitors in the Horizon Club showed the chaos beyond. People were getting hurt, being trampled by others, doing things that they would never do under normal circumstances.

Unable to stand the self-imposed carnage of these people any longer, Ned did something he wasn't sure he should do. But that had never stopped him before, he thought, as he recalled that first run-in he'd had with Thunderbird One so long ago. He'd wanted his story, and footage of the great ship taking off. In spite of its pilot's insistence that he not take pictures, Ned went ahead and tried it anyway. He nearly laughed out loud as he remembered how Joe's film had been electromagnetically erased, and how incensed he himself had been. And now, here he was doing everything he could to help them keep their secrets.

"It's ironic," he whispered as he brought a microphone up to his mouth. Pressing a button, he rang Unity Airlines' central office. "This is Ned Cook in the Horizon Club."

"Reading you, Cook."

"I want you to patch me through to the general PA."

"I don't think we can do that."

"Don't think you can or don't think you will?"

"Why do you want widespread public address?" Before Ned even had a chance to respond, he heard another voice on Unity's end. After a short conversation, the person he'd been speaking to came back on the line. "All right, Mr. Cook. I'm patching you through now."

God bless Ray Archer, Ned thought. It really did pay to know the head of Unity's management. Okay, Ned. You need to save peoples' lives out there. Make this speech your best ever.

05:50:05

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Ned Cook. Could I please have your attention?" He watched the monitor and was pleased that his voice still had this effect on folks after so many years in the business. For they were stopping, and they were shutting their mouths. "You may know me from my long-running television show. You may also know me from my association with NTBS. Or, you may be familiar with the fact that my life was saved ten years ago by International Rescue."

Mentioning the world's most famous...and right now somewhat infamous...heroes stopped the public cold in their tracks. Their faces turned up toward the ceiling as they waited to hear what he had to say. "Since you're all here trying to get out of Southern California, I will assume you're aware of what's happened. Aware of the fact that International Rescue is facing complete ruin as we speak. Aware that Washington, D.C. has been laid to waste and that the same has been threatened upon this area."

Several heads nodded.

"I want you to listen to me, and I want you listen carefully. The more out of control you get, the more you risk taking your own lives without the help of the madman behind all this. Don't do his work for him. Don't let him change you from sensible people into people as crazy as he is. Now, I know you want to get out of here. But if you do so in a calm and orderly fashion, you're more likely to get your wish than if you kill each other. Look at the person next to you. Do you know them? No? It doesn't matter. They have lives and families just like you do. They don't want to die any more than you do. They have a right to get out of here as much as you do. Would you kill your brother, your sister, your father, your mother, your children just to save your own life? Well all those around you are your brothers and sisters. We are all members of the human race. And we're facing a crisis. Let's work together to get out of it. Let's respect each other as fellow human beings. It isn't over 'til it's over."

Ned took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't say anything about what International Rescue was trying to do, for surely it would get back to Acronym somehow. So he decided to finish rather mysteriously, hoping it would be enough.

"And don't forget, Ladies and Gentlemen: there's always hope."

05:53:43

"Mole calling Mobile Control."

"Mobile Control here. Agent Fifty-Three speaking."

"53, I've just emerged from the White House. Or what's left of it, anyway. We found two survivors. One of them is the president."

"He's alive?!?"

"Yes. He's pretty beat up. They're loading him into the ambulance now. The other survivor is an as-yet unidentified female. She's unconscious, but not too bad off, I don't think. I'm gonna check out the caterpillars on The Mole, I thought one of 'em sounded funny. Work out where you need me next."

"Roger that, Mole. Contact me as soon as you're ready for deployment."

"F.A.B." Virgil exited the drilling machine and watched as the paramedics and firemen loaded President Grable and the woman into an ambulance and sped away. He was covered in soot and grime. "What I wouldn't give right now for a shower," he mumbled as he headed back to The Mole. He stopped for a moment and looked up at the wall of fire not twenty yards in front of him. While inside it, they'd discovered that a gas line had ruptured, apparently in a nearly perfect circle, around the perimeter of the White House grounds.

That's why they couldn't get the fire to go out. There were a handful of firemen trying to shut the gas off about a hundred yards due west, but so far they'd been unsuccessful. Virgil took his hat off and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. First thing he'd do when he got back into The Mole was call up Scott in Thunderbird One. He desperately wanted to know how Alan was, and what was going on beyond the Danger Zone.

As he turned to head for the other side of the gigantic machine, six firefighters came running by, screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs. "Get back! Get back! It's gonna go! It's gonna blow!"

Virgil whirled around to look at the ring of fire. He heard a telltale hiss that turned quickly into a whine. He knew what that meant. "Oh, shit!" he yelled, turning tail. But before he could even lift a leg to run, it happened.

An entire ten-foot section of gas line in front of The Mole ripped apart. Gas whooshed through and, ignited by the already-burning fire, exploded in a deafening roar, sending forth a shockwave that slammed into Virgil's back like a speeding Mack truck. His feet left the ground instantly. Arms and legs flailing, he sailed through the air. Time moved in slow motion as he watched himself come nearer and nearer the ground...nearer and nearer to what was left of a torn up car. He cried out and tried to curl himself into a ball as he hurtled toward his destination.

As the flames behind him licked the tip of The Mole's massive bore, Virgil crashed into the cracked windshield of the car, smashing right through it. By the time the firemen who'd been running picked themselves up off the ground and made their way to the man from International Rescue, there was blood everywhere.

Virgil Tracy did not move.

05:59:58

05:59:59

06:00:00

 

Hour Seven

The following takes place between 6:00 a.m. and 7:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

06:00:15

The Hood sneered as his cargo jet raced through the sky. He'd been in the air for just under thirty minutes. It had taken him a while to get the right contacts to give him the information he required to carry out his plan to stop Acronym from taking what he considered to be rightfully his. He had sparred with International Rescue since before they'd even begun operating. For over ten years he had coveted their secrets. He wasn't about to let some imbecile interfere now.

His text monitor signaled an incoming transmission. The Hood flipped a switch to download the message and discovered that his contacts had dug up quite a bit of information on the man calling himself Acronym. Namely, that he was Michael Canton II, Jeff Tracy's foremost nemesis, apparently both in public and private life, if his resources were accurate. "That explains why he wishes to cause his downfall," The Hood mused.

As much as they'd come up with, they still didn't have the one thing The Hood wanted: Acronym's current location. Then his radio buzzed, and he opened the line. "I am here," he said.

"Sir, we've picked something up that might be of some interest. A transmission coming from the Pacific."

"The Pacific? What was included in this transmission?"

"It was full of static, but we managed to hear the words hostage, under there and go deeper."

The Hood frowned thoughtfully. Hostage...under there...go deeper. "Where in the Pacific did this transmission originate?"

"Eighteen degrees, ten feet south; one hundred seventy-eight degrees, one foot east."

"Very well. Were you able to locate transmission destination?"

"Negative. The transmission hit several satellites, and we lost the signal."

"Continue monitoring that frequency. I want to know the moment another message is intercepted."

"Yes, Sir."

"So, Acronym, you are either hiding aboard a submarine or keeping someone beneath the sea...the hostages perhaps? We shall find out soon enough."

The Hood knew that even though his cargo jet was faster than most with a top speed of 1,000 miles per hour, it would still be another three-and-a-half hours before he reached New Guinea. From there he would launch his new subjet. It was the fastest submersible in existence besides Thunderbird 4, and he was quite pleased with himself that he'd saw fit to steal it less than a month previous.

"Once I land, it will take no more than ninety minutes for me to reach these coordinates. And then, Acronym, if you are on board the submarine, I shall see you do not escape with your life."

06:09:17

"How far are we out, Scott?"

"Just about an hour, Father, at present speed of seven.point.five thousand miles per hour."

"We need to get there faster. I want you to increase to ten thousand."

Scott's eyes widened. "Ten thousand? Father, you're in cramped quarters back there as it is. If I hit ten-k, I'll be scraping your teeth outta my engines for weeks!"

"Ten thousand, Scott. We'll be fine back here. We don't have a moment to lose."

Scott exhaled and shook his head. He knew his dad was right...time was of the essence. He just hoped everyone in the back could handle the G-force okay. "F.A.B. Increasing speed." He watched the air speed indicator as he opened the throttle wider and wider. "Seven.point.eight thousand. Eight.point.one thousand. Eight.point.four thousand. Everyone still okay?"

"Fine," replied Jeff.

"Eight.point.eight thousand. Nine.point.two thousand. Nine.point.seven thousand. Ten thousand. Maintaining speed."

"F.A.B."

Back in the cargo hold, which had been converted to a passenger cabin, Jeff and Penny people held tightly to their seats while the remaining passengers sat squished together on the floor. Doctors Otayuki and Godfrey looked almost ready to vomit, as they were the only two facing the rear of the rocket. Brains and Megan looked none the worse for wear. Penny and Jeff, however, shared silent thoughts praying the two scientists didn't unload their partially digested breakfasts all over them.

Well, thought Jeff, it'll be worth it if it means saving Kyrano's life.

06:15:20

"Aw, Jesus, Al, look at the glass!"

The fireman named Al, who'd helped Scott when Alan had been injured, grabbed the CB fastened to his coat. "Company 5 to Mobile Control!"

"Mobile Control. Agent 53 speaking."

"Listen, one of your guys is down and down bad! We need EMS here now!"

"Roger that. Dispatching immediately. What is your location?"

"The west side of the White House. And step on it!"

"Will do. ETA of EMS to your location seven minutes."

"God, Aaron, should we move him?"

"I don't know. Hey, grab the kit outta the engine, will ya? We've gotta stop this bleeding."

"I'm on it!" Al called over his shoulder as he raced for a nearby fire engine.

"Tom, check his vitals! Brad, see if you can get into the front seat and support his weight. The more he sags like that, the more this glass'll cut into him."

As the two firefighters raced to obey their chief's orders, two others approached. "What about us, Aaron?"

"Fred, Dave, I want you to gather up a few of the others and see if you can't get that goddamned gas line shut off once and for all! This never should've happened!"

"Yes, Sir!" they replied in unison as they ran off.

"Sonofabitch!"

"What is it, Aaron?" Al asked, running up with the med kit.

"Goddammit, Al. We promised Scott we'd look after him. We promised!"

Al placed a comforting hand on his chief's shoulder. "I know we did. And we're gonna do just like we said. I'm not leaving this man's side until I know for sure he's okay."

"Thanks, Al. I'm gonna hold you to that. I just feel like we failed him. Both of them."

"Pulse is a little slow," Tom broke in. "Breathing is shallow, but he's holding his own."

"I'm in place!" Brad called from the cramped space in the car's front seat.

"All right, Al, Tom, help me hold him steady. Yeah, that's right. Okay, Brad, use your back as a table. Lift him until I give the word."

"Right, here I go."

On hands and knees, Brad slowly lifted himself, his back against Virgil's back.

"Keep coming," Aaron said. Tom was holding Virgil's head, while Aaron and Al were at his legs. "Keep coming...keep coming..." Virgil's torso became more and more level with his head and legs as Brad kept going. "All right, that's it! Stop! That should keep the glass in place for now. Can you hold that position?"

"Sure thing!" Brad called.

"Come on, fella," Aaron said to Virgil's still form as he heard sirens approaching. "You're gonna make it. You have to."

06:22:03

"Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Five. Come in, Scott."

"Reading you loud and clear, John."

"I've got Sir Jeffery on the line. Says he needs to speak to Penelope right away."

"All right, John, patch him through to her compact. Any luck getting Kyrano?"

"No, Scott, not yet. I keep trying at ten-minute intervals. Ned Cook's reported in from LAX. Seems he had to step up and give the folks at the airport some kinda hell so they'd stop trampling each other."

Scott chuckled. "Well, if anyone could do it, it'd be Ned. How are the Rescuees coming along?"

"Like clockwork, he says. He's got five whole planeloads of ‘em gone already. Now they're just waiting for those planes to return so they can send out more."

"Good. I'll let Dad know. Meanwhile, I want you to keep an ear out for any communications coming from any place where there's no land."

"Why, Scott?"

"Kyrano seemed to think Tin-Tin and Gordon were underwater. If that's true, whoever's holding them must be transmitting."

"I get you. I'll keep you updated."

"Thanks, John. Thunderbird One out."

"Wait! Scott!"

"What?"

"Hang on...it's Mobile Control. Agent 53. Oh, no. Oh, God, no."

"John, what?"

"Putting him through now."

Scott listened as Agent 53's husky and frantic voiced wafted through his speakers. "...repeat, this is Mobile Control. One of your men has been injured in a gas line explosion near the White House, he's unconscious. I repeat we have a man down near the White House."

The color drained from Scott's face. His hands and feet suddenly went numb. He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, but found he couldn't wet his mouth. Man down. Explosion. White House. "Oh, God," Scott choked. "No. Not Virgil. Please...not Virgil."

06:25:48

"This is Lady Penelope speaking."

"Ah, Penelope, there you are. I've been trying to ring you for an hour now."

"My apologies, Sir Jeffery. What can I do for you?"

"Our task force in the States has just taken over Canton Corporation's headquarters in Kansas City. Local police have been most helpful. We've searched the building, as well as all of Canton's homes. To no avail, I'm afraid."

"Then they haven't found him."

"No. However, I'm pleased to report that we have located a woman who claims to be Michael Canton's personal secretary. She confirmed that he left yesterday afternoon in his private jet."

"Does she know what his destination was?"

"She can't be certain, but she did recall overhearing him speak of the Pacific Ocean."

Penny's eyes met Jeff's at exactly the same time. "Underwater," Jeff said. "The Pacific. That's got to be where Gordon and Tin-Tin are being held."

Turning back to her compact, Penny said, "Sir Jeffery, I can't thank you enough for your assistance. You've given us a great advantage here."

"Always at your service, Lady Penelope. In the meantime, I shall keep you posted as to further developments."

"I do appreciate that, Sir Jeffery. Lady Penelope out." She closed the compact and stuffed it in between her leg and the edge of her seat. "Well, Jeff. Looks like we'll be using Thunderbird Four."

"It sure does, Penny. It sure does."

"Father--" Scott's cracked voice came over the air.

Jeff blanched. Something wasn't right. "Scott? What is it?"

"Dad...Dad..."

"What? Scott, what?"

"Virg...Dad, it's Virg. He's--he's been hurt...injured...in a gas line explosion. He's not conscious."

Jeff visibly deflated. No one could bear to look his way as his eyes filled with tears, much against his will. Not even Penny, who was trying her best to hide her own raw emotions. There was a long, tense silence until Jeff found his voice.

"How bad is it?"

Scott's voice wavered. "I-I don't know. Agent 53 says--" He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "He got thrown through air when a gas line exploded on the west side of the White House."

Jeff's voice was barely above a whisper when next he spoke. "How far out from Base are we?"

"Just under fifteen minutes, Dad."

Swiping a hand across his eyes, Jeff looked at each of his companions in turn until at last his eyes rested upon Penny's beautiful face. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she finally made herself look right back at him.

"Dad, I--I have to go. I have to go back to him. It's my fault he's there. I sent him there. I--I--"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jeff took a deep breath, struggling to keep his anger and pain inside. Goddamn that Acronym. Only two of his five sons were still functional thanks to that bastard.

"Brains, how long you figure it'll take you five to whip up whatever concoction it is that needs to be taken up in Thunderbird 3?"

Clearing his throat, Brains replied, "I-I imagine we could have it ready in, uh, well, about four or five hours. Barring a-any setbacks, o-of course."

"Right. Scott, get us back to Base. We'll refuel and do a quick systems check. Then I want you back in Arlington to see to Virgil. As soon as you know he's out of danger, though, you get back to the island as fast as you can. You'll have four hours. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Father," Scott replied, the relief evident in his voice. "Thanks, Dad."

Jeff nodded, aware that his son couldn't see it. He'd always known of the extraordinary bond that existed between his two oldest sons. And he knew damn well if he didn't let Scott look in on Virgil, it wouldn't do any of them any good. Not to mention the fact that since Jeff himself couldn't go, he knew the next best thing was for his field commander to be there.

Penny smiled slightly as she took out a handkerchief and wiped her face dry. She mouthed the words Hang on to him and was pleased when he nodded almost imperceptibly. He was hanging on. But for how long? How much more of this insanity could he take? How much could any man take?

06:37:10

They'd been at it for nearly an hour. Gordon had never felt more relaxed in his life. He repeated one thought over and over. Keep beating. Keep beating. Keep beating. Only one picture formed in his mind. Kyrano's heart beating steadily, healthily, beating rhythmically, as it should. Tin-Tin had said nothing in the last thirty minutes, but just as he was beginning to wonder if he should say something aloud, he felt a strange tingling in his head, a feeling that seemed to be coming from the right part of his brain.

And then he heard her. He actually heard her. But he wasn't hearing her voice through his ears. No. He was hearing her thoughts. Although he'd never done anything like this before, he knew...he just knew. Beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy came the almost hypnotic rhythm of her words. He allowed his own inner voice to join hers and repeated in time with her, Beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy.

She'd done it. Tin-Tin had reached that place where she never thought she'd be able to go. Gordon could only hope it was enough to save her father's life.

06:39:27

Dr. Gray rushed to where Ruth was curled up in a waiting room chair. She'd fallen asleep only a few minutes ago, and he hated to wake her, but--

"Ma'am? Ma'am, wake up."

Ruth's eyes popped open and she came to her feet swiftly, nearly knocking Dr. Gray over in the process. "What is it? Is it Alan? What's happened?"

"No, no, it's not Alan. It's...there's another member of International Rescue on the way. I just thought you'd want to know."

"What? Why would any of them be coming here?"

"He's injured, ma'am. Gas line explosion knocked him into a windshield. I'm on my way to the OR now to prep for his arrival."

Ruth nearly stopped breathing. It couldn't be. Alan was bad enough, but now... "Did...did they say what his uniform looked like? What color sash he was wearing?"

"Yes, ma'am. Yellow."

06:41:59

"Kyrano!" Jeff called out as he exited the elevator and raced into the Lounge. He stopped short in front of his desk, causing Penny to run right into his back. Brains and Scott narrowly avoided the pile-up. "Kyrano!"

Scott rushed to one side of him while Jeff went to the other. They lifted his upper body off the panel behind the desk and his head lolled forward. His lips had a bluish tinge to them and his breathing was so shallow Scott had to put his ear right up to his mouth to make sure it was coming at all.

"Father, he needs help."

Jeff lifted his old friend into his arms, noticing for the first time that he weighed almost nothing. It had never occurred to him how small Kyrano was. The man's very presence usually made it something that never even entered Jeff's mind. Now, as he carried him to the sofa and laid him gently upon it, he recognized a frailty he'd never seen before. "What happened to you?" he whispered.

"Jeff, we should get him to hospital," Penny said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. "Scott..."

"Right. As soon as she's fueled up again, we'll take off. Brains, can you--?"

"Sure thing," Brains interrupted. "Dr. Otayuki, please come with me. We, uh, have to get Thunderbird One refueled and checked out."

The Asian man followed Brains back to the elevator as Megan stepped forward. Jeff looked up at her, the strain of these events showing clearly upon his face. "Can you tell what's wrong with him?"

"Well, from the color of his lips and the surrounding area, I'd say he's had a severe lack of oxygen. You'll notice there's a bluish color to his fingers as well. Let me get his pulse." Jeff rose and backed away; grateful for the small hand he felt slip into his. He looked down at Penny, whose eyes were fixed on Kyrano. Megan touched her first two fingers to Kyrano's neck. After a few seconds, she frowned.

"What is it, Megan?"

"It's his heart. I'm sure of it. His pulse is weak and arrhythmic. My best guess at this point is that he's suffered a heart attack."

"I didn't even know he had a heart problem. What can we do?"

"Nitro. Do you have any nitro?"

Jeff raised his wrist. "Brains, this is Jeff. Nitro?"

"I-In the Sick Ward, Mr., uh, Tracy. Second cabinet to the, uh, left, Bay Two."

Scott was already out of the Lounge when he called over his shoulder, "I'll be right back."

Penny watched him go, and then turned to the three remaining scientists. "Since I know where the laboratory is, I shall take you there immediately."

They nodded, but Penny didn't move right away. She studied Kyrano's prone form, sad for his current state, nearly willing him to survive. "Will he live?" she asked, squeezing Jeff's hand.

Megan turned to face the lovely woman before her. "I honestly don't know, Lady Penelope."

Scott raced back into the room with a small bottle of nitroglycerin tablets. "Megan?" he said as he handed the bottle to her.

"Yes?"

"Would you ride along to Sydney with Kyrano, just to make sure...?"

Megan nodded as she opened the bottle, shook a tablet into her hand and placed it under Kyrano's tongue.

"Thanks," he half-smiled.

06:50:30

Gordon became aware of agitation. He wasn't sure at first whose agitation. Then he realized it was coming from Tin-Tin. For some reason, her steady chant had ceased running through his mind.

After having been in the darkness for so long, his eyesight had adjusted enough to where he could just barely see the outline of her body in front of him. He said her name softly, but she didn't respond. Her anxiety had increased, however, he could feel it. "Tin-Tin, answer me."

Still nothing. He leaned closer, trying to get a look at her face. He could tell her eyes were closed, and she was as still as a statue. "Tin-Tin, come on, say something."

Having failed to get a response yet again, Gordon reached out and placed one hand upon each of her arms. He shook her gently. "Tin-Tin."

Suddenly her eyes popped open. Her mouth moved, and something that could only be described as a squeak emerged. She began to fall backwards, but he caught her, pulling her around so that she was lying in his arms, the back of her head against his chest.

"Tin-Tin, what's wrong? What's happening?"

He could tell she was trying to say something, but whatever it was, she couldn't get anything out but vague squawks. He suddenly felt something wet on his hand. When he reached up to touch her cheek, he found it damp. She was crying.

"Tin-Tin, please, tell me what's happening. What do I do?"

At this point, Gordon had no idea if what she was going through was a side effect of the meditation they'd been doing for Kyrano, or whether it was something altogether unrelated. He began rocking her back and forth, holding her tightly as she began to seize.

"Jesus, Tin-Tin, what's wrong? What's wrong?"

06:56:11

"What is wrong, my niece?" boomed a low, evil voice.

The Hood, having placed his jet on autopilot, sat in the cockpit staring straight out of the window in front of him. A malicious smile had formed upon his lips.

"Answer me! I know you can hear me! Where are you?"

No! a voice cried out within his mind. No!

"You will tell me where you are!" he ordered, the glow from his eyes increasing steadily.

I...am...under...water! the voice responded. On...a...submarine!

"I see," The Hood said. "Interesting, Tin-Tin. Very interesting." He blessed the Demon Goddess for his good fortune. Out of the blue, as he was en route to New Guinea, he'd suddenly felt his half-niece's mind. She was connecting to her father, for a reason he hadn't cared to ascertain before he'd taken over her mind for himself.

Could it be possible? Could she be on the same submarine he was seeking in an attempt to destroy Acronym? He laughed long and low at the prospect. "Well, it seems as though I may be able to kill two birds with one stone. Or should I say...one torpedo."

06:58:51

Gordon struggled to hold her down, doing everything he could to keep her flailing arms and legs from hurting either of them. As it was, he was practically sitting on her as he straddled her body and protected her face from her own hands. The seizure lasted for at least two minutes, during which time Gordon also worked to keep her from choking on her tongue, as he knew often occurred in patients experiencing grand mals.

At last Tin-Tin gave one final, strangled cry before going limp beneath him. He shook her, calling out to her, begging her to wake up, but it was no use. No matter what he did, she wouldn't move. Her breathing and pulse were steady enough, but nothing he tried would work.

Not knowing what else to do, Gordon leaned against the wall, pulling her into a half-sitting position between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder, her back against his chest and stomach, her legs straight out in front of her. She whimpered once, and hope came back to him.

"Tin-Tin!" When she didn't answer, he said it again. "Tin-Tin!"

Still nothing. "God, what do I do?" he said. "I don't know anything about this stuff, I don't what to do! Tin-Tin!" he cried, pulling her tighter against him. "Please! Wake up! Wake up!"

But Tin-Tin would not be waking up any time soon.

06:59:58

06:59:59

07:00:00

 

Hour Eight

The following takes place between 7:00 a.m. and 8:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

07:00:24

"This is Mobile Control to International Rescue."

"Receiving you, Mobile Control. Go ahead."

"Your friend, the one who was driving The Mole, he's been taken to the hospital."

"F.A.B."

"Uh...what should we do about The Mole? And about Thunderbird 2, for that matter?"

John thought for a moment. That was a very good question, and he hadn't a clue. There wasn't anyone left on the eastern seaboard that knew how to operate either vehicle. "Hang on, Mobile Control. This is Thunderbird 5 calling Base."

"Here, John."

"Scott, what's going on back there?"

"Kyrano's had a heart attack we think, but he's holding his own. Dad and I just got him into Thunderbird 1. I'm taking him to Sydney, then I'm going back to Arlington to see about Virg."

"Oh, good, that'll solve the problem then."

"What problem?"

"Agent 53 reminded me that The Mole and Thunderbird 2 are just sitting there."

"Oh. I'd forgotten about them. All right, post a few agents around them as guards until I can get back there."

"F.A.B. And Scott...make sure you let me know how Virg is doing."

"I will, Johnny. I will."

07:05:05

Kyrano was strapped onto a foldout flat bed that had been secured to the floor in Thunderbird 1's cargo hold. Megan buckled herself into a nearby seat and said, "Okay, Scott, we're good to go back here."

"F.A.B. All systems are green. Beginning launch sequence."

Scott started the great rocket down its ramp. Slowly she inched lower and lower through the tunnel that would take her to her launch bay. When at last she reached the lower level, the platform upon which she sat moved into position beneath the swimming pool.

"Thunderbird 1, ready for take-off."

"F.A.B., Scott, you're clear to go."

"Thanks, Father."

"Scott..."

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Take care of Virgil for me, son."

Scott smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Father. I will."

He clicked the gears into place and the engines roared to life, smoke and flames billowing out from beneath as it lifted slowly into the air, slipping up past the opened pool and rising gracefully into the sky.

"Scott, it's Kyrano! He's having trouble here!"

"Hang on, Megan, I'm switching to horizontal."

"Scott--"

"Hang on, hang on..." Scott leveled the ship more quickly than usual, then said, "Okay, Megan, what's going on?"

"Hold on, I'm getting a look at him. He's having trouble breathing! Oh, God, he's stopped breathing! Am performing CPR!"

"Keep him going, Megan, keep him going! We'll be there in less than 25 minutes!"

Please don't die, Kyrano, Scott thought as he opened the Bird up to 7,500 miles per hour. Please hold on. Just hold on.

Then his mind drifted to Virgil. I'm coming, he thought. Wait for me, Virg. Be okay. Just be okay.

07:09:16

Ruth watched helplessly at the same window she'd seen Alan through not too long before. They'd wheeled Virgil past her so quickly; she'd barely gotten a glance at him. Now, as they lifted him from the gurney onto the operating table, her face went white and she grabbed at the railing in front of her.

"Dear God," she whispered.

For sticking up about seven inches out of Virgil's right leg was a triangular-shaped piece of glass. It was covered with blood, as was, it seemed, Virgil's entire body. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight.

A nurse cut away the uniform from his leg, leaving the tourniquet above the wound that Aaron and Al had applied in the field. Dr. Gray examined the affected area and whistled long and low. "This isn't gonna be easy," he said quietly. "Looks like the artery's been severed...tendons, ligaments...oh, boy."

He straightened and looked at the five nurses, who were working like busy bees, each at their own dedicated task. One was finishing the removal of Virgil's uniform; one was hooking him up to the monitor; one was laying out the surgical instruments; one was hooking up pints of blood for transfusions; and one was preparing to wipe him down, to enable Dr. Gray to determine the extent of all Virgil's injuries.

"All right, Team," Dr. Gray said, "we've got a member of International Rescue here. Let's save another life."

"Hear, hear!" "Have at it!" "You got it!" came the chorus of replies.

07:11:51

"Thunderbird 5 from Base."

"Thunderbird 5 here."

"John, were you able to tap into the scans I set Kyrano up with before...before his heart attack?"

"Yes, Father. Scan is still running, but so far all underwater vessels have checked out. I'll be hitting the grid near Base in a couple of minutes."

"All right, keep it running, son. I'm gonna check in with Brains that Thunderbird 4's ready for action."

"F.A.B."

"Come on, Penny," Jeff said, grabbing her hand and heading for the elevator.

"What are we going to do, Jeff?" she asked as the elevator made its descent.

"Well, how long has it been since you've been on a dive?"

"Last time I went diving was here with Gordon and Tin-Tin last June. What's the plan?"

"I don't really have one yet, Penny. All I know is that they might be on a submarine right here in our own back yard. And we have Thunderbird 4. I'm not just gonna sit around and wait for Canton's next move."

She smiled as they exited the elevator. "I would expect nothing less of you, Jeff Tracy."

07:13:16

Gordon jolted awake. It took a few minutes for him to remember where he was, and why there was a warm body against him. Somehow after he'd dozed off, he and Tin-Tin had moved position and were now lying on the floor. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breathing was steady and warm against his neck.

Jesus, if Alan could see this, he'd shoot me, he thought wryly. Aloud, he said, "Tin-Tin?"

She stirred against him and mumbled something incoherent. He said her name again as he extricated himself from her and sat up. But this time she didn't move.

"God, I have got to get us out of here!" he said, rising to his feet. His back ached, boy, did it ache. He stretched back and forth, to and fro, trying to ease the pain. But it didn't look like it would be going anywhere anytime soon. He made his way across the room and his ears began to fill up. Suddenly he realized what had awakened him in the first place.

"We're diving," he said. "We're going deeper." He jiggled the latch on the door. "If I could just figure us a way outta here."

07:15:59

"A-All right, uh, Dr. Godfrey, we've a-assembled the materials you requested."

"Thank you, Christopher."

"Christopher? That's your name? Why's everyone call you Brains?" Dr. Payne asked.

"Uh, well, it's a-a long story, uh, Doctor."

"You'll have to tell me some time," Payne replied. "Now, what about this formula? Do you really think the C-60 will remain stable enough to add the nitrozine?"

"There's only one way to find out," Godfrey said. "How 'bout that Reaction Chamber, Christopher?"

"Uh, yes, it's in the next room. Let's get the nitrozine and, uh, C-60 over there. Dr. Otayuki?"

"Yes?"

"I-I need you to work on the, uh, sterolite combination. Remember, it, uh, has to be just right in order to coagulate the, uh, mercurolite sufficiently. I-If it's so much as, uh, one milligram o-off, the outer shell of the device will, uh, continue to degrade a-as it moves through the a-atmosphere."

"Very well."

As Dr. Otayuki moved to a workbench at the far end of the room, Brains picked up the beaker of C-60 and Dr. Payne picked up the beaker of nitrozine.

"Dr. Godfrey, I-I think you should work on recreating the exact formula for UH-3 that you, uh, developed at Canton. We're, uh, going to have to have some to, uh, test this mixture on once we've, uh, successfully combined it."

"Right away. Where's your store of uranium?"

"O-Over there in the Radioactive Storage Room. You-You'll find, uh, radiation suits hanging just outside the, uh, sealed tank."

And so the scientists went to work. Brains only hoped they'd succeed in time to stop the deaths of millions of people.

07:20:47

Jeff and Penny had been standing near the entrance to the lab, listening to the scientists patter back and forth about what they were doing. Penny had been surprised to hear Dr. Godfrey's name for Brains.

"Jeff, what is the long story Brains is talking about? Why does the doctor call him Christopher?"

"Well, Penny, that's the name Brains uses to get patents and publish his work."

"I thought he used Hiram Hackenbacker as an alias."

"Sometimes he does. But the woman who cared for him at the orphanage gave him the name Christopher Braman. After they found him, and no one claimed him, they realized he'd need a name. Brains once told me that Natalie Stephens, the woman who practically raised him, named him Christopher after her late husband, and Braman because it was her maiden name."

"Ah. That explains his robot's name."

"Yes. I think he kind of did it as his way of paying homage to her."

"Whatever happened to this Natalie Stephens?"

"She disappeared when he was five or six, I think. He didn't find out what had happened to her until last year, when he decided to go digging for information. It turns out she died of an aneurysm in her room at the orphanage. He was never told she'd died, just that she'd gone away."

"Oh, that's sad. Hmm. Christopher. I like it. It suits him. Why do you not call him that?"

Jeff shrugged. "He prefers Brains. Even though Christopher Braman's the name he's gone by publicly ever since it was given to him, I don't think he identifies with it other than where his memories of Natalie are concerned."

Penny nodded thoughtfully as Jeff moved forward. Dr. Otayuki didn't even look up from his microscope as the pair headed for the next room.

"Ah, Brains, there you are."

"Y-Yes, Mr. Tracy."

"I need to talk to you about Thunderbird 4."

"Yes?"

"Penny and I are taking her out into the Pacific. I've no idea what's gonna happen out there, and I want to make sure she's ready for action."

Brains placed a test tube of C-60 into one of the robotic hands inside the Reaction Chamber, and then turned to face his benefactor. "Well, uh, Mr. Tracy, last check was two days ago, and e-everything was a green."

"Right. We'll go do the pre-launch so we're ready as soon as John finds that sub. Come on, Penny."

07:29:17

"We're five minutes out, Megan. How's Kyrano?"

"I got him breathing again, but he's not doing well. I've slipped him another nitro tablet. His pulse is still very weak. I'm actually surprised he's alive."

"I learned a long time ago never to underestimate Kyrano," Scott replied. "Thunderbird 1 to Base."

"Reading you, Scott."

"We'll be landing at the hospital in less than five minutes."

"How's Kyrano holding up?"

"He stopped breathing, but Megan got him going again."

"Okay. Listen, just to let you know, I'm doing pre-launch on Thunderbird 4. John's still trying to find any trace of an unidentifiable sub in the Pacific. Once he hits on it, we're going down there."

Scott frowned. It had been a while since his father had piloted Thunderbird 4. And Penny? "Are you sure about this, Father?"

"No. But I won't sit on my hands if there's a chance I can find them."

"As soon as we drop Kyrano at the hospital, I'm heading for Arlington."

"Have Megan stay with you. Whatever Brains and the others work out, we might just need someone else we can trust on the east coast."

"F.A.B. Landing now. I'll be in touch."

07:32:01

Parker had been sitting two hundred miles off the coast of Southern California for several hours now. He'd been in touch with John in Thunderbird 5, but hadn't heard from anyone else as yet. Just when he began to wonder if he'd be sitting there floating on the water in a pink Rolls Royce all day, an incoming transmission broke through his reverie.

"This h'is FAB One," he said, opening the channel.

"Ah, Parker, how are you?"

"Oh, m'lady, h'are you a sight for sore ones."

Penny smiled. "Is everything all right where you are?"

"Yes, m'lady. H'I've been sittin' off the coast for a bit o' time now, bobbin' h'up an' down like a toy. H'It's getting migh'y rough h'out 'ere."

"What do the weather satellites report?"

"Bad wevver a'ead, m'lady. H'I'm afraid h'it won't be getting h'any easier on me stomach."

"Poor dear. Parker, Jeff and I will be taking Thunderbird 4 out as soon as John locates a bogey."

Parker's eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. "A bogey, madam?"

Penny couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Parker. I'm afraid that if you hang about with Americans long enough, you begin to pick up on their lingo."

"H'I'll say, m'lady. Wha' can I do?"

"Stay right where you are. If Gordon and Tin-Tin are aboard a submarine, and Canton discovers we're on to him, he may head your way. I want you to be ready at a moment's notice."

"Yes, m'lady. Goo' luck, m'lady."

"You, too, Parker. Lady Penelope out."

07:38:42

"Okay, the final diagnostics are running. How's Parker holding up?"

"I think he's a bit sea weary, Jeff. The weather satellites show a large storm headed his way and the water's a bit choppy."

"Poor guy. Is he in place?"

"Yes. I've warned him to be on alert in case Canton appears."

"Good. Let's get back up to the Lounge and see how things are going."

07:40:12

"Okay, Megan, you can ride up front here with me. There's a fold-down seat here."

"Thanks. I think I'd get too lonely back there all by myself."

"Kyrano...will he be okay?"

Megan nodded as she strapped herself in. "Yes, I think so. They were amazed he was still alive, but he seemed to be pretty stable for the moment."

"God, this is bad. He was our only link to Gordon and Tin-Tin. Now we're gonna have to rely on technology to find them." Scott fired Thunderbird 1's VTOL rocket and she rose vertically into the air. "Hang on, Megan. I'm gonna make this Bird fly like she's never flown before."

She nodded and gripped the edges of the seat tightly as Scott opened the throttle. "You seem very close to Virgil," she managed to say as the G-forces started pressing her back into the seat.

Scott swallowed the lump in his throat. His mind filled with images from their past...from when they were eight and five, and Virgil had fallen in a patch of mud on their grandparents' farm. It had been their last trip to see them before Lucy died. Virgil had just lain there crying, certain their mother would be angry with him for spoiling his clothes. Scott came to the rescue, picking him up out of the mess. Virgil had clung tightly to him, begging not to be taken back to the house.

A filthy little Virgil wound around Scott resulted in the older boy being covered from head to toe in mud himself. When he'd taken Virgil back to the house at last, they'd gone straight to their room, where Scott stripped his and Virgil's clothes off and got them both in the tub. By the time their mother realized what was going on, he and Virgil were both clean and redressed, and Scott had even taken the soiled clothes to the washer. Virgil had been so grateful for his brother's protection that he'd climbed up onto his lap, given him a sloppy kiss on the cheek and said, "I love you, Scotty."

Tears stung Scott's eyes as another memory surfaced. This time Scott had been climbing a tree on the farm. He'd been fourteen and Virgil, eleven. The limb he'd been sitting on was a dead branch, and his weight soon made it give way beneath him. He'd yelped as it broke, sending him falling nearly nine feet to the snow-covered ground below. Virgil, who'd been in an upstairs bedroom painting at the time, had seen it all from the window. Having had the wind knocked out of him, Scott couldn't even speak, and was sure he'd broken his ankle, which throbbed painfully.

He'd begun to panic, wondering if he was going to lie there and die in the cold snow with nobody the wiser. Until at last a face framed by the sun had appeared in his line of sight. At first he was convinced it was an angel come to take him away. But then he heard Virgil's voice frantically calling his name. Virgil stroked his hair and told him to stay calm, to let his lungs start working again. He stayed there with him until Scott was able to rise to a sitting position, and then helped him hobble back home.

It was only after he'd come back to his senses that he realized Virgil had been out there with him for nearly twenty minutes, in below-zero weather and kneeling in two-foot-deep snow with bare feet and wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off sweats and an undershirt.

He flashed forward to the mine rescue in Israel. Explosives had been accidentally detonated, causing the infrastructure of the mine to destabilize. A cave-in left eleven miners trapped. He and Virgil had brought all but one man to safety when a beam above Scott's head creaked and groaned. Virgil looked up, saw it was about to give way, and tackled Scott to the ground, completely covering him with his own body.

When the beam broke, chunks of rock and dirt rained down upon them. One hit Virgil square between his shoulder blades. If he had not been there, if he hadn't risked his life for his brother, that rock would've hit Scott's head. He would've been killed for sure. Virgil had saved his life.

As he had so very many times. Sure, Scott had returned the favor, but he never felt like he'd truly paid his brother back for everything he'd done. Vigil was his listener. He was the one Scott talked to. The only one he could open up to. If it weren't for Virgil, Scott didn't think he'd have made it this far. He didn't even want to try and think of doing this without him.

Megan watched him, brow furrowed. She knew he was remembering things about his comrade. Probably different things that had happened on rescues, she reasoned. She was surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice when next he spoke.

"I can't lose him," he said, his voice barely audible. "I can't lose him now."

07:50:52

While Ruth waited anxiously outside the operating room, Alan lay in a semi-private ICU bay. Accordion walls had been pulled around his bed. His hair was still singed and blackened, but most of his skin had been cleaned. A white sheet and a dark rose-pink blanket covered him. His arms lay atop the blanket along either side of his body. Monitors beeped and blipped the rhythm of his heart. The steady whoosh of the ventilator pumping oxygen into his lungs could be heard. An IV slowly dripped saline solution into his body. A second IV fed him nutrients and a third, a derivative of morphine to dull the pain should he awaken.

At the foot of the bed, where the two sides of the accordion wall met, there was an audible click. Then one side of the wall began to open, sliding along its metal tracks with only the slightest of scraping sounds. A tall man with light brown hair and dark chocolate eyes, dressed in a white lab coat, stole through the opening and then turned to quickly shut the accordion wall behind him. This accomplished, he walked to the side of the bed where the ventilator machine and heart monitor were positioned.

"Alan Tracy," the man said, his eyes cold and hard as he stared down at the figure below him. "It's been a long time. A very long time."

He reached over and flipped a switch on the monitor. It powered down, the screen going dark, the beeps stopping. "There, now. We don't want any alarms going off, do we, Alan? You remember me, don't you? Bonneville Flats, 2023? You know who I am."

The man's hand reached over to the ventilator and hovered above the power button. "Frank Jacobs. Remember? You jacked me but good that day, you shit. Now somebody's given me a lotta good reasons to take my revenge." He looked thoughtfully at the helpless man lying in bed. "I just wanted to make sure. I wanted to make sure you knew who killed you."

And with that, he hit the power button. Jacobs exited the accordion wall in smug satisfaction as he heard the machine hissing to a halt behind him. Turning for one last look, he smiled. "Goodbye, Alan Tracy."

07:54:24

Ruth finally forced herself to look through the window again. The nurses and Dr. Gray were running around like mad hens shouting at one another. She pressed the intercom button so she could hear what they were saying.

"...losing him! Blood pressure's down, get it back up! Get it back up!"

"We need to seal that artery, now! Re-route using anterior femoralis! Clamps!"

"Here, Doctor," a nurse said as she handed him two small metal clips. "What are you going to do?"

"I think I can stretch the tunica adventitia enough to reach the anterior artery. I should be able to graft it on if I cut through just right into the anterior's endothelium. Scalpel!"

Ruth's head was spinning. She had no idea what the hell they were saying in there. But it was clear that Virgil was in trouble.

"He's dropping, Doctor! I can't get the blood into him fast enough!"

"You are not going to die!" Dr. Gray nearly bellowed as he worked to reattach Virgil's severed artery. "Nurse, irrigation!"

"Got it!" The nurse came over with a tiny combination vacuum tube and began spraying a small amount of water in and sucking the fluid out of the wound.

Ruth turned, her stomach flopping, and leaned back against the window. It was then that she noticed a rather tall man in a white lab coat walking her way. She frowned as she stood up straight. That man looked familiar to her. Very familiar. He kept coming toward her, and then went on by without even glancing her way. She walked out into the middle of the hall and watched him reach the end of it and disappear into a stairwell.

"I know that man," she said aloud, wracking her brain. "I'm sure I do." Several minutes went by. She could hear the doctor and nurses still yelling inside the OR, but something about that man...it just niggled at the back of her brain and refused to let go. Where had she seen him? It had to do with one of her grandsons. It had to do with what...boats? No. Cars? Cars...

And then it dawned on her.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped, turning and running the other way. "Alan!"

07:58:58

Alan's body began to tremble. A gagging, coughing sound escaped his throat as his chest heaved, as his body struggled to find oxygen, struggled to breathe. His arms and legs jerked, his head thrashing to and fro on the pillow. His esophagus and windpipe went into spasms in a violent attempt to expel the breathing tube from his throat.

At last his body gave up. His fight to live ceased. He flopped on the bed every few seconds, much like a fish removed from water. His lips began to turn blue. At the last moment, as his heart seized and his brain began to shut down, his clear blue eyes opened wide. A single tear escaped and ran down his temple.

And then his eyes fluttered closed.

07:59:58

07:59:59

08:00:00

 

Hour Nine

The following takes place between 8:00 a.m. and 9:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

08:00:10

There was nothing but darkness. No matter which way she looked, her eyes picked up no trace of light. She couldn't even tell if she was standing or floating or lying down or what. She felt perfectly fine, as though she hadn't a care in the world. How had she come to be in this place? Where was this place?

"My daughter."

"Father?" A gray glow arose before her, a caricature of sunrise, casting shadows across her face. She watched as a figure approached. When it came into full view, she recognized it immediately. "Father!" Tin-Tin raced forward to meet him...again, unable to tell if she were actually running or just flying.

Kyrano held her tightly, kissing the top of her head as she nestled into his arms. "My child. I am so happy you are here."

She pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes. "Where are we, Father?"

"We are in the middle of time and space."

"I don't understand."

Kyrano seated himself on a large pillow that suddenly appeared. Tin-Tin couldn't even see the floor it was sitting on. He reached down and patted a second pillow that appeared directly in front of him. "Come, Daughter. Sit with me."

She lowered herself to the pillow, her legs crossed Indian-style.

"This is the Great Void, Tin-Tin," he began to explain. "It is within this special place that spans the whole of all that is and is not where minds may meet."

"Are we projecting?"

"That is one way of looking at it, yes. In reality, I am lying in a hospital bed."

"A hospital bed? Why?"

"I am afraid that I was attacked by The Hood again. My body was unable to withstand the assault. It was the worst attack ever. And so my heart seized."

"Father!" she cried, her hands reaching out to grab his. "We're not--I mean, are we--we're not dead, are we?"

"No, no, calm yourself, my child. We both live still."

"If you're lying in a hospital bed, I mean, if you're ill back there on Earth...what about me? Why am I here?"

"I do not know for certain. What is the last you remember?"

Tin-Tin thought hard. She was finding it difficult to get past where she was right now, difficult to recall anything other than waking up here in the dark.

Sensing her confusion, Kyrano said, "You and Gordon are being held hostage aboard a submarine."

Those words brought everything flooding back to her. "Oh, Father!" she exclaimed, eyes filling with tears. "We were meditating. Gordon and I, we were meditating for you. I felt your heartbeat slowing! We were trying...we were trying to keep you going, trying to save you!"

"Ah, yes. I felt a presence. I felt it faintly, but I knew someone was with me. Thank you, my daughter. I believe you and Gordon have saved my life."

The two hugged fiercely and then parted, hands holding tight to one another's. "But I don't know what happened. I remember reaching that plane, Father, the one you always spoke of. The one I could never reach on my own before today. I found Gordon. I found his mind. I could hear him, and I know he could hear me."

Kyrano nodded and smiled. He had always known that one day Tin-Tin would come into her own where her abilities were concerned. It seemed that day had come. "What happened next?"

"I-I felt something...no, someone. They were evil, Father! They were so evil! They invaded my thoughts, they took my mind...they took my mind...oh, God!" She launched into his arms again, sobbing as the agony of the experience washed over her anew. "He took my mind!" she wailed.

Kyrano's face hardened. It couldn't be. He wouldn't have done that. Would he? "Was it...was it your half-uncle, Tin-Tin?"

She sat up straight, looking wildly into his eyes. "Oh, my God. Yes. Yes, it was him! I know that now. I didn't know it then, but you're right, it was! I told him...Father, he made me tell him!"

"Tell him what?"

"Where we were. Where I was. He knows we're on the sub! He's coming to find us! Oh, my God, oh, my God."

"Calm, Tin-Tin. Relax. Do you remember anything else?"

Tin-Tin closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. She thought and thought, desperately trying to recover those terrible moments, and what had happened after. Finally, she nodded her head and looked into her father's eyes.

"I lost consciousness. I could feel myself floating above my body. Gordon...Gordon was frantic. I--I was having seizures. After that, I don't remember anything else. Oh, Father, what are we going to do?"

"We must find a way to contact Mr. Tracy."

"But how? How can we do that from this place?"

"I do not know for certain that we can. But we must try."

08:16:40

Ruth barged into the ICU, tearing the accordion walls surrounding Alan's bed away with the strength of ten women half her age. "Alan!" she cried when she saw him. She slammed her hand into the alarm button on the wall next to his bed, then ran around to the other side and took in the state of the ventilator and heart monitor. "Alan, come on, breathe! Breathe!"

Within seconds, a male nurse came running in, followed by a female nurse. "What is it?" he asked.

"He's stopped breathing, the machines were turned off!"

"What?!?" The male nurse ran for the intercom. "ICU, Bed 4, Code Blue, stat!"

Ruth heard alarms ring as the nurse gently pulled the tube out of Alan's throat. "Do something!" she cried. Then she turned to the female nurse and said, "Close this place down! I know who did it! He might still be here!"

She nodded and ran out of the room to the nurse's station with Ruth hot on her heels. Hitting the switch for Security, she yelled, "Immediate lockdown! Seal all exits now!" She turned to Ruth and asked, "Who is he?"

"Frank Jacobs, a man that raced once with Alan several years ago. During some test runs, Alan lost a wheel and smashed into his car. Jacobs was laid up for nearly a year and he's never forgiven Alan."

"Ma'am, what's he look like?"

"He's about six feet tall, early thirties, light brown hair, dark brown eyes...he was wearing a white lab coat."

The nurse repeated her description into the microphone while Ruth headed for the staircase she'd seen Jacobs take.

"What's happened?" came the Security Chief's voice over the phone. "Why are we after this guy?"

"He just tried to kill a patient!"

08:20:22

"Thunderbird 1 to Base."

"What is it, Scott?"

"I can't raise Grandma. She's not answering her com."

"Have John get in touch with the hospital and find out what's going on."

Just at that moment, John's voice broke through. "Thunderbird 1 and Base from Thunderbird 5!"

"Strength 5, go ahead."

"Scott! It's the hospital in Arlington! They've just gone into Lockdown!"

"What?" Jeff bellowed. "What happened?"

"They're saying something about a man who just tried to kill a patient in ICU! No...oh, God...it was Alan!"

"Oh, my God!" Scott cried. "Why would someone try to kill him!?!"

"Dammit! John, what's his condition?"

"I don't know, I'm trying to get through to 'em now, but they're not responding. Everything's a mess down there between the D.C. victims and now this."

"It can only mean one thing," Scott said, his hands tightening around Thunderbird 1's controls. "Canton must know he's there. He must've either gone there himself or sent someone."

"Open it up, Scott. Get there as fast as you can. If he knows Alan's there, he'll soon find out about Virgil. John, get hold of Mobile Control and see if you can't arrange for agents to be posted with them. When you get the hospital on the line, tell them exactly who's coming so they'll let them in."

"F.A.B.!"

"And John? I want them armed."

Megan just sat wide-eyed listening to the exchange. After what Scott had said earlier, she sensed his bond with Virgil went beyond camaraderie. Now, hearing the frantic tones used by John, Jeff and Scott, she began to truly wonder about International Rescue. They seemed like more than just an organization. They almost seemed like...family.

"Hold tight, Meg," Scott said, barely realizing he'd shortened her name. "We're going to ten thousand."

She nodded and closed her eyes as she felt the pressure on her body increase. God, was this nightmare ever going to end?

08:25:33

Ruth exited the stairwell into the hospital Lobby and ran straight for the front door. "Did you catch him?" she asked the two security guards who stood nearby.

"No, ma'am, we haven't seen anyone matching the description Nurse Blevins gave us. Are you his grandmother, the one who recognized the guy?"

"Yes!" Just then a car drove past the front doors, not more than ten feet away. Ruth's eyes widened. "That's him! That's him! That's Frank Jacobs! Let me outta here!"

She hit the emergency open button on the side of the sliding glass doors and raced out into the parking lot, the two security guards on her tail. "We have to go after him!" she cried.

Just then, a police vehicle screeched to a halt right in front of them. The policeman opened the window and yelled, "Did you catch him?"

Ruth opened the passenger door and got in the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She turned to the two shocked guards and said, "You protect those International Rescue boys, or there'll be hell to pay!" Then she turned to the policeman and said, "After him! He went that way!"

"Who the hell are you and what do you think you're doing in my car?"

Impatient as she was to give chase, Ruth knew the cop wasn't going to budge without an explanation. "I'm from International Rescue."

Chang eyeballed her. A little old lady? With International Rescue? "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"Young man, do I look like I'm kidding?"

"I'm sorry, but if you don't show me somethin' quick, I'm placing you under arrest. You can't just commandeer a squad car."

One of the security guards approached them. "Officer, she's who she says she is."

Chang eyed the man suspiciously. "ID, ma'am."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Ruth reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet and shoved it in the officer's face.

"This doesn't say International Rescue. It says Ruth Tracy."

More than slightly put off, Ruth retorted, "International Rescue is a secret organization. Do you think we advertise who we are?

Chang seemed nonplussed.

"The man you're letting get away just tried to kill one of our operatives. I have a feeling he was put up to it by the man who's responsible for what happened to D.C."

Whether convinced or simply interested in trying to catch the D.C. bomber, the cop handed her ID back to her without further ado. All four tires left rubber on the asphalt as the policeman hit the gas. The two guards just looked at each other.

"Jesus," one of them said. "So much for what they say about little old ladies."

08:27:51

"What the hell is going on around here?" Dr. Gray yelled as the alarm bells rang insistently. He'd just finished fusing the two severed ends of Virgil's posterior femoral artery into the anterior. Thankfully, it was a success, and color began to return to the unconscious man's face as new blood traveled from IV bags into his body.

One nurse, who'd run out the door and spoken to another, hurried back into the OR. "Dr. Gray, it's the other man from International Rescue! Get to the ICU!"

"Dammit!" the doctor swore as he ripped the latex gloves from his hands and pulled his surgical mask down. "Get Dr. Shea in here to start repairing the muscle, now!"

"Yes, Doctor."

He sprinted out of the room and down the hall to the ICU, where he found Nurse Abel Crane leaning against the wall panting. "Report," he barked, shining his penlight into each of Alan's eyes in succession.

Nurse Crane stood up straight and replied, "He wasn't breathing when I arrived. I removed the tube and started CPR. He only came back about forty seconds ago."

"How the hell did this happen?"

"Don't know, Sir. The lady who was here said the machines had been turned off."

"Jesus...this'll set him back but good, if not permanently damage his brain. His pupils are dilating, that's a good sign. Stand back, let me intubate him again. His breathing is far too labored for my liking. And I want you prepare a room on the eighth floor. It's the safest, most secure area of the hospital. We'll move him as soon as you're ready."

"Yes, Sir!" Nurse Crane responded as he left the room.

"What is it with you guys?" Gray said as he unwrapped a sterile breathing tube and approached Alan's bed. "Why the hell is everyone so bent on seeing you destroyed?"

08:34:16

"There he is! That's his car!" Ruth cried as the squad car rounded a corner. She raised her wrist communicator to her face. "Ruth calling Thunderbird 1! Ruth calling Thunderbird 1!"

Frowning and looking sidelong at her, the policeman asked, "Who is this guy? And for that matter, who are you?"

"I told you who I am. And that man is Frank Jacobs, someone who has a bone to pick with the man he just tried to kill." Ruth turned to him, craning her neck to see his name badge.

"Sergeant Bill Chang, at your service, ma'am," he said.

She nodded and turned her face back to the front window. "Don't you dare let him out of your sight, Sergeant Chang."

Chang nodded as a voice came from somewhere in the vicinity of Ruth's arm. "Thunderbird 1 here. What's your status?"

But instead of listening in, he had his own job to do. He pressed a button on his CB unit. "Dispatch, car Two-Oh-Four, Code 8, in pursuit of vehicle, suspect in an attempted 187. Suspect vehicle is late model tan two-door, 10-28 on license Frank Edward Henry Four-Two-Two. Vehicle headed east on I-66. Copy."

"Roger, Two-Oh-Four."

Sergeant Chang flipped on his lights and sirens and picked up speed as he tried to keep the car in sight. Then he spoke again. "Possible identification of subject: Frank Jacobs. Run a 10-20a. And get a chopper in the air!"

"Roger that, Two-Oh-Four. Air Five ETA four minutes. 10-29, license plates registered to Franklin Quincy Jacobs, aged 34, 6'1", 210 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes. Last known address 374 Marshall Drive, Ft. Myer, Virginia."

"That's him!" Ruth cried. "Please don't let him get away. Please."

"I'll do my best."

08:42:00

"Base and Thunderbird 1, come in!"

"Here, son."

"With you, John. I've got Grandma on the wire. She's in a squad car, but there was interference and I couldn't hear half of what she was saying. How's Alan?"

"Alan's okay, best I could get from the nurse I spoke to was that some guy unplugged his ventilator and he stopped breathing, but they've got him hooked up again."

"Son of a bitch!" Scott cried, slamming his fist onto the armrest of his seat.

"Who was it, John?"

"I've tapped into the frequency being used by the Arlington police. Hang on, Father, I'm gonna play back so I can see if they've identified him."

They couldn't hear the playback, but they heard John gasp.

"What? John!"

"Father, I--I don't believe this. It's Frank Jacobs. They're in pursuit now."

"Frank Jacobs?" Scott asked incredulously. "The guy Alan tangled with at Bonneville? You've gotta be kidding me!"

"God," Jeff breathed. "That wreck laid him up for a year. But that can't be why he tried to kill him. Canton must've gotten to him. There's no way Jacobs alone would've known Alan was in that hospital. John, you get on with the Arlington police and make certain they take him alive. We need to know for sure if it was Canton who put him up to this."

"F.A.B." There was a moment's silence before John spoke again. "I'm getting the latest on Virgil!"

Scott held his breath.

"They've stopped the bleeding and he's stabilizing as we speak."

Scott exhaled in one big rush of air. "Thank God," he whispered.

"They're working on patching him up now. I guess his leg's pretty torn up from what the nurse is reporting. They're also going to place Alan in a secure ward, and I've got six agents headed to the hospital to stand guard."

"Scott, when you get there, make sure they put Virgil in that ward, too. And find out where the hell Grandma is!"

"F.A.B. We'll be arriving in about twenty minutes."

"I'll keep you posted on developments. Thunderbird 5 out."

"I'm glad Virgil's going to be okay," Megan said, noticing how Scott visibly relaxed.

"Thanks, Meg." Then, as if just then realizing it, he added, "Sorry about that. I seem to have shortened your name on you."

She smiled. "No problem. Meg works." She hesitated for a moment before asking, "There's something different about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't mean you, personally, I mean...all of you."

Uh-oh.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were family. You even called that lady Grandma."

Scott started slightly as he glanced down to where she sat. What did he say to that? "Well, I guess we might as well be. We get into some pretty hairy situations. And since she's the oldest of the bunch, we all call her Grandma."

She seemed satisfied with that for the moment. Scott reminded himself to try and be a little more cautious from here on in. This Megan Crawford was already too close to the truth for comfort.

08:48:06

"I believe I have located him."

"I can't sense him, Father."

"No, I do not think you will be able to do so. He is a very difficult man to reach. His mind is not as open as I would like. Join your energy with mine, my daughter. Perhaps together it will be enough."

Tin-Tin nodded and grasped her father's hands. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to mingle with his and could almost tangibly feel the energy flowing between them.

"This will work," Kyrano said as he closed his eyes. "It must."

08:49:59

Jeff had just finished loading four Depressurization Diving Suits along with other supplies and equipment onto Thunderbird 4 when he suddenly felt dizzy. The metal toolkit he held in his hand clanged to the floor as he staggered back against the hull.

"Jeff!" Penny cried from the side hatch of 4. She ran out to where he had leaned over, his hands on his thighs. "Jeff, what's wrong?"

"Don't...know..." he gasped. "Dizzy..."

"Jeff, sit down at once," Penny ordered, pulling him down to the floor. "Put your head between your knees."

He nodded dumbly and leaned forward. The room spun uncontrollably and his stomach lurched in protest. "God...Pen...Pen..."

Penny raised his wrist to her face. "Brains! Brains, it's Jeff! Come quickly!"

Brains' face appeared in the watch, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, the world around him exploded in a violent flash of white. The picture danced wildly for a moment and then the image winked out.

"Brains!" Penny cried, just as Jeff fell over into her legs, catching her off-balance and knocking her to the floor. "Jeff!"

08:52:49

"What the hell is he coming here for?" Sergeant Chang bellowed as Jacobs' car plowed through one of the side gates at Arlington National Cemetery.

Ruth peered through the windshield into the sky where she saw a police helicopter hovering overhead. The CB was alive with calls shooting back and forth between it and the ground units following them. She'd given up trying to get through to Scott, making a mental note to ask Brains why the hell their transmission had been so broken. Chang took her by surprise when he braked hard, and she had to brace herself against the dash to keep from flying forward.

"10-96, Arlington National Cemetery, east side," he said into the CB as he threw his car door open. "Stay put! He's out and running!"

She didn't even have a chance to answer as Sergeant Chang sprinted away. She could see Frank Jacobs in the distance on top of a small rise. He looked back over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.

"The hell I'll stay put," Ruth muttered as she opened the door. "He tried to kill my grandson."

As she got out of the car, she could hear sirens approaching, but they sounded awfully far away to her. At her age she couldn't run too fast, but she jogged as quickly as she possible to catch up to them, thankful that Virgil had always encouraged her to stay in good shape. When she reached the small hill, she stood there for a moment, trying to see between all the ornate headstones and vaults that filled the area ahead.

And then she caught sight of them. Chang had made good time, he was only about twenty feet behind Jacobs, but the latter was hiding behind the Iwo Jima monument, and she could tell Chang wasn't aware of his location. When she looked into the sky, she saw the chopper hovering over Jacobs, but there were more obstructions than just the monument beneath it, so Ruth doubted it would be able to give Chang the exact pinpoint he needed. She started down the hill, determined to catch up to the sergeant.

"Ruth to Thunderbird 1."

"Grandma, what the--where are you?"

"Arlington National Cemetery. He's running, it's Frank Jacobs, Scott, he's running and the sergeant's gone after him."

"I know it's Frank, John heard it over the wire. What happened to you before, why couldn't I get through to you?"

"I don't know, " Ruth huffed. "How far away are you?"

"Not far, just hang on, we'll be there fast."

It was a game of cat and mouse. Chang knew his suspect was hiding somewhere up ahead. He drew his gun and flattened himself against a nearby vault. He didn't want to use his portable CB to contact Air Five for fear of giving his own location away to the suspect. Peeking around the corner, he gave himself the all-clear before dashing to the next structure, a tall monument that was just about the width of his body. Flattening himself against it for a moment, he then ran to the next vault. He continued zigzagging from structure to structure, making his way closer to where Air Five hovered above.

As he crouched behind a smaller headstone, looking back the way he'd come, he saw something that made him mad as a hornet. It was Ruth, and she was headed directly for him. "Damn that woman! How'd I know she wouldn't stay in the car?" he muttered. "Get down!" he called out. "Stay back!"

She hesitated for a moment before hiding behind the tall monument he'd used for cover only minutes before. Then she peeked around it and watched as Chang made his way to another monument. When he turned to check on her location, she pointed over to his right. He nodded, realizing she must have seen where Jacobs was hiding when she came over the rise. He looked around the edge of his cover and stepped out from behind it, fully intending to run for the statue only three feet to his right.

Ruth looked just in time to see Jacobs emerge from behind the Iwo Jima monument. In his hand was a gun. Chang froze. Jacobs looked beyond him to where Ruth stood transfixed.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Tracy!" he called out.

Chang slowly raised his weapon toward his suspect.

"You won't get away with this, Frank!" she yelled.

Chang's gun was almost level with Jacobs.

"Won't I?" Frank sneered. "We'll just see about that."

And then a shot rang out.

08:59:58

08:59:59

09:00:00

 

Hour Ten

The following takes place between 9:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

09:00:03

Ruth stood horrified as Sergeant Chang dropped to the ground like a rag doll. She looked up and her eyes met Frank's. They stood for endless seconds holding one another's gaze as though Ruth were challenging him to raise that gun to her next.

Before either of them knew what was happening, shots rang out from above as Air Five opened fire on the man who'd just killed a fellow police officer. Dodging bullets, Frank had no choice but to turn and run the other way. Anger burning in her eyes, Ruth made her way to the fallen police officer and knelt beside him. It was more than obvious that Chang was dead. The bullet had hit him right between the eyes.

She looked to the right and saw his gun laying not six inches from his hand. Steely resolve overtaking her, she picked it up, palmed it firmly, and rose to her feet. "I may just be an old lady, but this isn't over yet."

09:01:57

"Jesus!"

"John?"

"Shots fired at Arlington National Cemetery!"

"Is it Jacobs?"

"Hang on...yeah, Air Five's confirming...suspect fired a single shot...officer down...Grandma!"

"Grandma?!?"

"I don't...I don't believe this. Scott, I just pulled in a live feed from Air Five! Grandma's down there with 'em!"

"I know, John, I know, but what's she doing? Dammit!"

"Air Five...is reporting that...she's got the sergeant's gun! She's giving chase!"

"What the hell is she on?!?"

"Scott, you've gotta do something, she's gonna get herself killed!"

"Right, I'm nearly at Arlington now. Have you notified Dad?"

"Can't get through to him, Scott."

"Whaddya mean you can't get through to him?"

"John! Scott! Somebody! Come in, please!"

"Penelope?" the brothers said in unison.

"Oh, thank heavens! Something awful has happened to Brains! And Jeff, he's having difficulty..."

"What? What's going on back there, Penny?" Scott roared.

He and John watched Penny turn as Dr. Godfrey came running up to her.

"God, thank God I found you," he panted.

"What's happened?" Penny asked.

"It's Christopher and Dr. Payne. I think...there was an explosion...I was in a radiation suit...I think...God...I think they're dead!"

"No! Brains!" John cried.

Scott had just reached the outskirts of Arlington National Cemetery and could see the abandoned squad car with both front doors hanging open. "Penelope, what about Dad?"

At that moment, they all heard Jeff begin to mumble. Penny moved the watch closer to his face. His eyes were closed and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow.

"Kyrano," he whispered, "Kyrano...Tin-Tin..."

"Jeff!" Scott called out, mindful of his passenger's presence. "Jeff, can you hear me?"

"Jeff," Penny said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Jeff, wake up, please."

"Kyrano," he continued to moan, "Tin-Tin...submarine...deep sea...seizures...the Hood..."

"The Hood?" John exclaimed.

"Hang on, John. If I didn't know better, I'd say Kyrano was talking to him."

"What?"

"I'm serious. Listen."

"The Hood...coming...Gordon...in danger...Tin-Tin..."

"Jesus Christ!" Scott yelled. "I see her! I see Grandma!"

"Where is she?" John asked.

"Oh, God! She's chasing him! I can see him! I can see Jacobs! I'm going in lower. Shit!"

"Penny," John said, "how's Dad?"

"He looks like he's coming out of it now. Dr. Godfrey, are you certain Brains and Dr. Payne are dead?"

"No, but the smoke...God, I ripped the hood of my suit off as soon as it happened and I couldn't stand it, I started choking. They were just lying there. Payne was on his back, he was the one operating the arms when it happened...there isn't anything left of his face!"

"And Brains, what about Brains?"

"I--I don't know. He was lying facedown, I couldn't tell if he was okay or not. It looked like his clothes got burnt."

Jeff pulled himself to a sitting position. "Penny?" he said uncertainly.

She was instantly kneeling beside him, wiping his brow with her handkerchief. "Jeff, Jeff, are you all right?"

He shook his head, desperately trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Yes, I--I think so. Penny, it was Kyrano! Kyrano was speaking to me!"

"Oh, man...Dad!"

"Scott?"

"I'm coming in over Jacobs now. The chopper's giving me airspace," he relayed with no small measure of surprise in his voice. "No! He's raising his gun at Grandma! Goddammit, no!" He flipped open the external com and cried, "Grandma, stand down! Stand down now!"

Scott open his weapons hatch and lowered the automatic turret. He fully intended to take the bastard out before he could fire. Air Five also moved in and was firing on Jacobs before it even got close. But Jacobs was well-covered, at least temporarily, by a small overhang on a cement vault. Even as he crouched beneath it, however, the concrete began chipping away under the efforts of the police.

Jacobs, faced with an armed woman on the ground, a police helicopter firing like mad, and a huge silver rocket plane with an automatic weapon at the ready, knew he was done for.

"I'm not going out alone!" he cried as he raised his gun and squeezed the trigger.

Megan could only watch in awe as Ruth lifted her weapon with both hands and pointed it directly at Jacobs. When a single shot rang out, it wasn't Ruth Tracy who fell.

"What's happening?" Jeff bellowed, rising to his feet as the sound of Air Five's weapons ceased.

"She shot him," Scott said simply, unable to believe his own eyes. He retracted the turret and closed the weapons hatch almost by rote. "She damn well shot him."

"Well, I'll be," breathed John.

"Scott, you get down there and pick Grandma up now! Dr. Godfrey, what's this about Brains?"

"They were mixing the C-60 and nitrozine, Mr. Tracy. Lady Penelope called and Chris...ah, Brains...turned away from the Chamber. It must not have been sealed properly, the next thing I knew it exploded!"

"John, have you found that sub yet?"

"I'm rechecking the last quadrant now, Father. Looks like we might've come up with something. I've got the computer trying to verify ID."

"All right. Now, listen. Tin-Tin and Gordon are in real danger. I don't know how he got involved in all this, but The Hood's found out where they are. We need to launch Thunderbird 4 immediately. But first I've got to check on Brains. Come on, Penny."

They raced to the elevator with Dr. Godfrey, praying they weren't too late.

09:20:42

Gordon had been listening to the steady sounds of Tin-Tin breathing as his mind raced, trying to come up with a way out of their predicament. A couple of times she'd stirred, mumbling something he couldn't hope to understand. Now she rolled over, her head landing on Gordon's hand, which was palm-flat on the floor. He frowned as he felt something oddly cold against his skin. Lifting her head, he reached over with his other hand and felt her hair. It was then that he found it.

"Tin-Tin! You're a genius!" he crowed. He rose to his feet in triumph and headed for the locked door. In his hand, he held a single bobby pin. "This'll get us outta here, or my name's not Gordon Tracy."

09:22:14

The Hood turned his cargo jet due south. He was on final approach to Port Moresby, a large shipping town on the southern coast of Papua New Guinea. From there he would launch his subjet into the Pacific, and then make his way to the submarine he sought, whose coordinates had changed slightly from before.

"It won't be long now, Acronym. You have less than two hours to make your peace with this world." He laughed as he lowered his landing gear. "And as for you, my niece, I quite have other things in mind. Your father would not join me...but perhaps you will."

09:24:28

"Grandma!" Scott called out through his external speakers. "Run forty feet to your left as fast as you can!" He turned Thunderbird 1 around and headed for the clearing he'd seen as he was flying over. "Shit! The cops!" He flipped the external com on again. "Hurry!" He looked down at Megan, who was watching Ruth run faster than she'd ever thought a woman her age could. "Meg, quick, get back to the side hatch and get it open, key in 54693!"

"Right!" she said, unstrapping herself from the seat. She made her way back to the midsection just before the cargo hold. Keying in the numbers Scott had given her, she was more than relieved when the door slid open. Scott landed the Bird with ease and Megan lowered the ladder as she bent down and peeked out through the opening. She could see Ruth about twenty feet out, huffing and puffing, her face red from the effort. Before Megan could even call out to her, Ruth stumbled and fell, sprawling face-first into the grass.

"Grandma!" she cried. She slid to the edge of the hatch and dropped to the ground, then ran to the older woman's side.

"Megan!" Scott called out, racing back to the open door. "What happened?"

Having reached Ruth, Megan turned her over and found she'd lost consciousness. "Damn!" she swore as she hooked her arms beneath Ruth's armpits. She'd begun dragging her back toward Thunderbird 1 when Scott dropped out of the hatch and met her halfway.

"Grandma!" he cried, moving to pick up her feet. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know, but we'd better get outta here. The police are almost on us."

"You there! Halt!" a voice yelled from the distance.

"Get up inside, Meg, I'll lift her up to you."

"Right." She climbed up the ladder and rolled over onto her belly, her arms hanging out of the hatch. Scott, having picked Ruth up at the waist, hoisted her tiny frame upwards. Meg grabbed her arms and pulled her all the way up, with Ruth landing right on top of her.

Scott was inside in two steps. He quickly retracted the ladder and sealed the hatch door. "Get her strapped in, I've gotta get us outta here now!"

Megan pulled Ruth over to a chair and secured her, then took her own seat and buckled in. Moments later she heard the rocket fire and felt them lifting off into the air.

"This is Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 5."

"Right here, Scott."

"We've got to get Grandma to the hospital."

"How is she?"

"I don't know, she passed out trying to make it over to us. Megan's back in the hold with her now. What I don't get is why the police wanted us to stop. They gave me airspace when I first arrived."

"You're a little imposing in that flying contraption of yours, you know. Where's Air Five, anyway?"

"They landed right after Grandma shot Jacobs. They were the ones coming after her when she collapsed."

"Well, she did shoot a man. Maybe they just wanted to interrogate her."

"They have to know Grandma shooting Jacobs was self-defense. Anyone with half a brain could see that."

"Scott! Computer's just verified, unidentifiable submarine sitting fifty miles east of the Lau Group of islands, Fiji!"

"My God, she's so close to Base! How deep is she?" Scott asked as he brought Thunderbird 1 in to land on Arlington Hospital's helipad.

"485 feet, Scott, holding steady."

"All right. When Dad calls in with news about Brains, let him know. I've just landed at the hospital. Megan and I are taking Grandma in now."

"F.A.B."

09:37:54

Dr. Gray stuck his head into the OR. "How's it going, Shea?"

A balding man in his fifties raised his head from where he'd been working on Virgil's leg. "Not bad, Gray. Boy, you sure handed me over a tough one!"

"I know. Need some help?"

"No, I think I've got things under control. About another twenty minutes and we'll be able to close him up. I'm having some x-rays developed right now, I want to make sure he didn't break any bones in the fall."

"Great. I'll--"

"Dr. Gray, report to ER stat!"

Gray glowered at the PA speaker above his head, then closed his eyes and let out a whoosh of air. "Sorry, Shea, gotta run. No rest for the weary."

Dr. Shea nodded his head and returned to his work. "Just a few more tendons to tie up and we'll have your leg as good as new, young man."

09:39:09

Gordon opened the bobby pin until it was shaped like the letter L. "This works in the movies. Let's hope it works in real life, too," he said as he stuck the end of it into the lock. Using it as his guide, he felt around inside for the mechanism that would release the door. "Ah...there...there it is," he said as the pin scraped across a protrusion. "It's set back in there good, though."

He removed the pin and bent one side of it outwards, using his fingers to gauge whether or not it was at the right angle. Satisfied with his work, he maneuvered the pin into the hole again. He straightened his end slightly to afford him a better advantage at getting the bent end where it needed to be.

"Come on, baby, come on," he said. The minutes ticked by and Gordon started to wonder whether or this kind of thing actually did work in the real world. He was about to get his answer. He heard a loud CLICK! and jumped in surprise. "No way," he breathed. Reaching out, he grabbed the latch handle and pulled it down.

It was unlocked.

09:43:33

Scott breezed into the Emergency Room, his grandmother in his arms. Megan was right next to him as Dr. Gray burst into the ER.

"Dr. Gray!" she called out, waving an arm.

He ran over to them. "Ruth!" he exclaimed when he saw whom Scott was carrying. "God, what happened?"

"She collapsed while running," Megan replied as Scott laid her on a gurney. "She's been through an awful strain."

"Can you help her, Doctor?" Scott asked, smoothing her hair away from her face.

"Let me check her out," he said as he placed a stethoscope to her chest with one hand while taking her pulse with the other. "Damn, pulse is thready and her heart's skipping around like it's playing hopscotch. Nurse!"

"Oh, God," Scott breathed.

Megan grabbed his arm and pulled him back as two nurses appeared. One of them brought an oxygen tank over and covered Ruth's mouth and nose with a mask. The other attached heart monitor electrodes to her chest and turned on the machine. Dr. Gray flashed a penlight into her eyes and bit his lip.

"Jane, set me up a saline IV. Kate, I want her prepped for a brain scan."

"A brain scan?" Scott asked, pulling away from Megan's grasp. "Why?"

"I'll be frank with you, um, Mr..."

"Scott," Megan offered.

"Right. Scott. Her pupils aren't dilating properly. I want to make sure there's no damage I should be aware of. Barring that, I'd say she's probably dehydrated and has a medium-severe concussion. But all in all, I think she'll be okay."

Scott sighed in relief and was surprised when Megan pulled him into a hug. He found himself hugging her back, then pulled away as a strange feeling came over him.

"Scott?" she said. "What is it?"

His eyes took on a faraway look as he whispered, "Virgil."

Before Megan could even get the next word out of her mouth, he was gone.

09:48:07

"Brains!" Jeff cried as he entered the lab. Dr. Otayuki had pulled the unconscious scientist out of the second lab room and into the first and to Jeff's horror was now standing over him with a large knife. "What are you doing?"

Dr. Otayuki grinned like Cheshire cat. "I'm getting rid of the one person who can stop Acronym," he replied.

"You work for Acronym?" Penny gasped. She tried coming around to stand next to Jeff, but he pushed her back behind him.

"That is correct, madam. You are such fools. So trusting. He's been planning this for years!"

"If you kill him, you'll never make it out of here alive. You must know that." Jeff's voice was steady as he spoke, in stark contrast to the fear he felt inside.

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Mr. Tracy. You haven't quite thought of everything."

Suddenly it dawned on Jeff...Godfrey. Where was Godfrey? He turned his head just in time to see him out the corner of his eye. From his hand, a metal blade glinted the light. He looked at Otayuki, who stood with knife poised to strike his engineer a fatal blow. Then he turned back toward Godfrey, who was advancing, his own knife raised high.

Penny leaned forward, her lips nearly touching his ear, and whispered, "Now!"

Jeff sprang at Otayuki full-force, flying headlong into the younger man's torso. They tumbled to the ground and scuffled, with Jeff on top punching his face repeatedly with one hand while the other grappled for the knife.

Simultaneously, Penny swung around and high-kicked the knife out of Godfrey's hand. It sailed across the lab and clattered down into a group of beakers. Jeff looked askance at them, only to see Godfrey tackle Penny to the floor. His attention back on Otayuki, he slammed his hand onto the floor time after time after time until at last the knife flew from his grasp. With one last right hook to the face, Otayuki was rendered unconscious.

Knife in hand, Jeff headed for the tangle of bodies not five feet away. Penny and Godfrey rolled round and round on the floor. At last, Jeff saw his opportunity and jabbed the knife into Godfrey's back, just to the side of his shoulder blade. The man howled in pain and staggered to his feet, twisting his arms in an attempt to dislodge the knife.

Jeff pulled Penny up next to him. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded, dabbing at her bleeding lower lip.

"Jeff! Look out!" Penny dove across him, wrapping her arms around his neck, as Godfrey raised his knife and struck, driving it deep into the flesh of her back. She screamed in pain before going limp in his arms.

"No! Penny!!" He lowered her to the floor, sinking down with her, cradling her in his arms. "No," he whispered, holding her tightly, his lips against her hair. "No, Penny, no."

Just in front of them, Godfrey's half-smile turned into a grimace as he fell to his knees in a pool of his own blood. He grunted in pain before keeling over, landing on the floor with a sickening thud.

Jeff looked away from the unseeing eyes of their former ally. He couldn't help the tears that escaped his own eyes as he turned Penny's face toward his. "Penny, come on, don't do this to me. You can't. Please. Stay with me."

A loud moan from his right made Jeff turn. To his surprise, his engineer was coming to. "Brains! Help me!"

Brains groaned and struggled to roll over, then pushed himself to his hands and knees. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. The room seemed to be tilting slightly and his body hurt like hell. "M-M-Mis...Mist...Mister..." he stammered. Finally giving up, he just said, "Jeff?"

"Are you okay?" Jeff asked, looking back down at Penelope.

"Uh...think...so..." he groaned, pulling himself to his feet. Then his vision cleared and he saw the knife in Penny's back. "Oh, my God!" he cried, racing to kneel behind her. "What happened?"

"Help me, Brains. Don't let her die. Please don't let her die."

09:59:58

09:59:59

10:00:00

 

Hour Eleven

The following takes place between 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

10:00:20

Three International Rescue agents and two nurses wheeled Alan out of the ICU. A third nurse pushed the heart monitor, ventilator and two IV stands close behind. They entered the elevator and rose to the eighth floor, where they wheeled him down the hall, turning right and continuing on to the end. He was taken into a large room on the right and brought to a stop on the far side of it.

The room's one window was covered inside and out by white iron bars. This was the Security Ward, generally where suspects and prisoners who needed medical attention were housed. The nurses flitted here and there making certain Alan was completely set up. One of them approached the three agents.

"There are two prisoners in this ward right now," she said. "They've been taken to the rooms furthest away, 802 and 804. The south wing of this floor is currently used for storage. Our security guards have thoroughly searched it, and the gate leading to it is now locked. This floor cannot be reached without a security pass. You saw me swipe mine on the elevator."

"What about those two prisoners?" Agent 98 asked. "Are they dangerous?"

"One of them was injured during an attempted rape. His name is Joseph Baines. He was stabbed twelve times by the woman he attacked, and hasn't regained consciousness since he arrived."

"And the other?"

"Brenda Farnesworth. A case of road rage. She got so mad at some guy on the 95 that she slammed right into him with her car. She's paying for it, though. Her face was cut up pretty badly. She's been really quiet since she was brought in."

"All right," Agent 182 said. "We'll take it from here. Take 98 and show him where you'll be stationed."

"Yes, Sir. Right this way, please."

His eyes on Alan's prone form, 182 turned to the third agent, 164, and said, "Let's hope we can keep him safe."

10:10:51

Scott ran out of the elevator onto the fourth floor. He bolted to the nurse's station and demanded, "International Rescue operative, where is he?"

Taking in Scott's uniform, the nurse pointed to her right. "Down the hall, right hand side, it's the Training OR with the bay of windows on the wall."

Scott was already halfway down the hall before she finished. He skidded to a halt in front of the viewing window, not even noticing the three International Rescue agents standing outside the OR doors. Grabbing tightly to the railing in front of him, his eyes grew wide as he watched the doctor use a laser beam to close a foot-long gash in Virgil's right thigh. He saw the monitors, the nurses darting to and fro, the dried blood, and the soiled uniform that had been cut away and discarded on the floor. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to maintain his composure.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his arm. His eyes snapped open to find Megan there with him. "How is he?" she asked.

"I don't know, I haven't talked to anyone."

"Well, he must be doing all right, they're very calm in there."

Scott nodded absently. All he could think of was an explosion, of Virgil flying through the air, of Virgil falling, of Virgil bleeding...of Virgil dying. His breath caught in his throat. "I have to know if he's okay."

"Hang on, I'll check with the nurse on duty." It was only a few minutes later than Megan returned, a smile on her face. "Good news, Scott. Virgil's going to be just fine. He landed on a car and a piece of glass went through his leg."

Scott winced.

"But they've removed all the glass, and Dr. Gray repaired his severed femoral artery. Dr. Shea's in there now, he just finished reconnecting the muscles and tendons. X-rays show no further injuries."

"So he's gonna be all right."

Megan nodded, a small smile upon her face. "They're going to take him up to the Security Ward after Dr. Shea is through. He's going to be placed in the same room as Alan."

"Alan?" Scott said, turning to face her. "He's up there now?"

"Yes, according to Nurse Blevins. He's been stabilized again and seems to be doing okay, all things considered."

Scott looked back through the window. Virgil was being sponged down. Dr. Shea removed his latex gloves and pulled his surgical mask down to his neck. He looked up, and his eyes met Scott's. He nodded and exited the room.

"Doctor," Scott said, shaking the man's hand. "How is he?"

"Oh, he'll be fine, son, don't you worry about that. He lost an awful lot of blood at first, from what the nurses tell me. But Dr. Gray patched that up for him. I've just finished with his leg. It'll take time and physical therapy, but I expect him to make a full recovery."

Scott smiled for the first time in a long time. "Thank you."

"No trouble at all, young man. It's the least I can do for you guys. I'm gonna kinda be a hero myself after working on your buddy there."

Scott and Megan chuckled before Scott spoke again. "Doctor, my other...buddy...Alan. He's in the Security Ward?"

"Ah, yes, so I hear. They're prepping this young fella to take him up there now. If you like, I'll let 'em know you can go with 'em."

He nodded.

"All right, then. Just hold tight, it'll be another twenty minutes or so."

"See, Scott? I told you he was going to be okay."

Waves of relief flooded through him as he leaned back against the wall. "Yeah, I know, Meg, I know. I just...I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him."

Rubbing his arm gently, she replied, "Don't think about that now. It's going to be okay."

Scott passed a hand over his tired eyes and looked...really looked...at Megan Crawford for the first time. She stood about 5'8", he reckoned, and had somewhat long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were bright blue, almost the color of Alan's, he thought. She wore a pair of jeans and a blue pullover top, which still held traces of Alan's blood.

"Thanks," he finally said, squeezing her hand. "I'd better get in touch with..." he paused, "...with Base."

"Yeah, you should. I'm sure they'll want to know Virgil, Grandma and Alan are okay."

Scott nodded and walked down the hall to the waiting room. Megan stared after him. Truth be told, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on. But at this point, being physically attracted to him was the last thing on her mind. She was more concerned about him. She turned back to the viewing window, where the nurses were easing Virgil into a hospital gown.

"Tell me things can't get any worse," she whispered.

10:21:15

"Brains..."

"One, uh, second, Mr. Tracy."

Jeff stood at the head of one of the beds in Tracy Island's hospital ward. It was a miniature replica of any of the best hospitals in the world, with everything imaginable that could be needed for medical care. He looked down at Penny, who lay on her stomach. Brains had cut her blouse away and removed the knife Godfrey had stuck in her back. It had taken several minutes for him to stop the bleeding, and he'd just taken CT scans of the region.

"Final scans look good, Mr., uh, Tracy," Brains said from a monitor across the room. "I-It looks like nothing, uh, major was damaged."

"Then why's she unconscious?"

"Probably the, uh, shock to her system, a-and the pain. W-We got that knife out just in time, though. O-One more movement and it could've, uh, hit her spinal column."

Jeff closed his eyes, his hand stroking Penny's soft blonde hair. He reopened them in time to see Brains come to his feet, then stagger backwards into the chair. "Brains!"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed against the wave of nausea that shuddered through him. "M-M-Mis...Mister..."

Jeff raced to his side and grabbed hold of him to keep him from falling. "For God's sake, Brains, it's Jeff. Just Jeff."

Brains nodded, causing his stomach to lurch. He twisted away from Jeff just in time to expel the contents of his stomach all over the floor. He sank to his knees and kept dry heaving as Jeff came down next to him. With one hand, he rubbed Brains' back.

"God, Brains, I-I'm sorry."

"For..." heave "...what..." heave

"I was so worried about Penny, I didn't even...are you okay?"

Deciding not to nod this time, Brains waited a few seconds for his stomach muscles to come under control. "S'okay, Mis...uh, Jeff. Must...have...a...concussion."

It was then that Jeff realized the exact state of his engineer. "Jesus! Your back!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah...it hurts."

"I can see why!" Most of the fabric of Brains' white polo had been burnt away in the explosion. There were blisters on both shoulder blades and down near the waistband of his pants. "Come on, get over here to a bed. I need to get some gel on those."

Jeff helped him to his feet and led him to the bed next to Penny's. Brains climbed up and sat down while Jeff opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out a tube of burn gel, then returned to the younger man and carefully began applying it to his wounds.

Brains flinched every time Jeff touched him. Thankfully, his stomach had settled down, and he found himself watching Lady Penelope's face. He was surprised a moment later when her eyelids fluttered open. Her blue eyes met his, and then looked beyond him to where Jeff stood, concentrating fully upon what he was doing.

"Uh, Mr...Jeff?"

"Yes, Brains?"

He tilted his head in Penny's direction. Jeff stopped in mid-swipe and looked over his shoulder. He was greeted with a dazzling smile, a smile that reached Penelope's eyes. "Penny," he said.

"Jeff," she breathed before slipping back into unconsciousness.

"She's gonna be okay," Jeff said, continuing his work on Brains' back.

"Yes, Sir. That she is."

"Thank you."

"O-Oh, no problem, uh, Jeff." Brains couldn't help but let his mind wander to the scene down in the lab. Jeff had been begging Brains to save her, begging him not to let her die. He'd been reacting like he was about to lose the most precious thing in his life. Reacting...like a man in love. Brains smiled.

Well, I'll be damned, he thought.

10:28:14

Gordon paced the small room like a caged tiger. Yes, he'd succeeded in getting the door unlocked, but when he'd cracked it open for a peek outside, he'd found two of the thugs he remembered from New Zealand camped in the hall not fifteen feet away. Thankfully, they hadn't seen him open the door, and he'd shut it quietly. Now frustration and disappointment overwhelmed him.

"I can't believe I got it open and now I can't do anything but sit here!" he complained to his unconscious companion. "Think, Gordo, think! You know submarines! There's gotta be something!"

But he could think of nothing. From what he could tell, this room was in the aft section of the sub, which meant there was probably a rear escape hatch not too far away. If they did have DDS's aboard, though, they'd be closer the main airlock in the midsection. So even if he did manage to get Tin-Tin out of the room, he'd have to make it all the way there without being seen, get her into a DDS, get into one himself and then try to make his getaway, towing her behind him.

Crouching on the floor next to where she slept on, Gordon reached out and shook her shoulder gently. "Come on, Tin-Tin, wake up. I can't do this if you're asleep. I just can't. I need you." She moaned and stirred, raising his hopes. "Tin-Tin? Come on, wake up. Come on, Tin-Tin, you can do it."

Her eyes fluttered open, and once again she was met with total darkness. Was she still in that place? "Father?" she moaned.

Gordon frowned. Why would she be calling for Kyrano? "No, Tin-Tin. It's me, Gordon." He helped her sit up, holding her steady with his hands. "Tin-Tin, are you all right?"

She shook her head as the fog that had settled over her began to clear. "What? Gordon? Where am I?"

"You don't remember? We're on the sub."

"Oh...the sub...Father!"

"What about him?"

"He's alive, Gordon! He's alive! I saw him! I was with him, I spoke to him!"

"How? You've been here with me the whole time."

"No, not here. There. In the Great Void."

"Tin-Tin, are you sure you're okay?"

She smiled, one hand grasping his. "Yes, I am now."

"I got the door unlocked."

"You did?"

"Yes, but two of those men are out there. I don't see how we can get out without them noticing."

She came to her feet a bit unsteadily, Gordon supporting her all the way. "Let me have a look," she said.

He led her across the room and placed her hand on the latch. "Slowly," he whispered.

She opened the door a crack and peered out into the blinding light. It took some time for her eyesight to adjust, but at last she saw the two men Gordon had spoken of. One was smoking a cigarette and pacing the hall. The other seemed to be speaking angrily into a walkie-talkie.

"They're agitated," she whispered, closing the door again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say something's gone wrong."

Gordon smiled. "Go, Dad."

10:39:22

"This is Operation IR calling International Rescue. Come in, International Rescue."

"Receiving you, Ned."

"John. I just wanted to give you an update on things here."

"Okay, go ahead."

"Well, we've got nearly everyone accounted for and off to their destinations. The evacuating public seems to still be pretty calm. But the television stations are going crazy with people clamoring for International Rescue to give up the ghost."

"I know. I've been watching."

"Other than that, how are things going on your end?"

"Not the best, I'm afraid. Things have been pretty hectic."

"Scott Tracy calling Thunderbird 5."

"Hang on, Ned. Go ahead, Scott."

"John, I can't raise Dad. In fact, I can't raise anyone back at Base. Have they been in touch with you?"

"No, Scott, haven't heard a peep. How's everybody back there?"

"Fine, just fine. They're about to take Virgil up to the Security Ward where Alan is, and Grandma will be joining us up there shortly. After I'm sure everything's under control, I'm gonna head over to the Danger Zone, check in with 53, and get The Mole and Thunderbird 2 under wraps."

"F.A.B. I've got Ned Cook on the line. He says things are going smoothly on his end."

"Well, that's good news. John, I'm worried about Dad. I can't even get Penny."

"All right, I'll work at raising them. Let you know as soon as I hear anything."

"Thanks. Scott out."

"Hey, Ned? Sorry about that." When he didn't get a reply, he said, "Ned? You there?"

"John! John! Something terrible's happened!"

Oh, God, now what? he thought. "Ned, what're you talking about?"

"WNN got wind of what we're doing here. Damn that Phil Epstein!"

"Phil Epstein? What's going on?"

"They're broadcasting. Can you tune in WNN?"

"Yeah, hang on." John flipped one of his monitors over to WNN's broadcast frequency. There was a shot of LAX from a helijet, and Phil Epstein's voice could be heard.

"...can't be certain what's going on, but WNN has learned that the group International Rescuees, formed nine years ago by Ned Cook of NTBS, have swarmed into Los Angeles International Airport. Jets belonging to Unity Airlines have been taking off at regular intervals, reportedly full of Rescuee members and their families. It looks like International Rescue and their supporters aren't going to take Acronym's threats lying down. Stay tuned to this station for further updates on this extraordinary development."

"Dammit!" John bellowed, slamming his fist down onto the console. "Do you know what this means?"

"Jesus, John, I'm so sorry. I have no idea how he found out, I truly don't."

"It's not your fault, Ned. Something this big couldn't be kept secret forever. But still...can the International Rescuee members be identified in any way?"

"No. They were instructed to wear normal clothing. No one will know unless the aircraft they arrive in are identified as being ones that left here carrying IRee members. But, God, if Acronym is watching this..."

"I know, Ned, I know. Just keep things tight as you can on your end. I need to get hold of F...uh, Mr. Tracy."

"Right on. Let me know if you need anything from me."

John closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. Then he opened the special line used for calling Base. "Thunderbird 5 to Base. Come in. This is an emergency. Thunderbird 5 to International Rescue. Come in, please!"

10:46:49

Having finished doing what he could for Brains, Jeff was now pulling a blanket up over Penny's bare back. Brains had sealed the knife wound with syntheskin, and she seemed to be resting comfortably. He happened to look down at his left wrist, and only then did he realize something was missing.

"My watch!" he said, clapping a hand to his arm. "It's gone! I must've lost it in the lab!"

Brains, who was pulling a clean shirt on over the bandages on his back, lifted his own wrist. "I-It looks like mine was, uh, damaged in the e-explosion."

"If the boys are trying to get hold of us...Brains, stay here with Penny for a minute."

"O-Okay."

Jeff raced out of the ward and headed for the Lounge. He cursed himself for not realizing sooner that his watch was gone. When he reached his destination, the eyes on John's vid portrait were flashing. He raced to his desk and jabbed the line open.

"Father! Thank God! What's goin' on down there?"

"Long story, John. We've had some trouble, but I think we're okay now."

"Father, I've got bad news."

Jeff blanched. "Mother? Virgil? Alan?"

"No, no, they're all fine, Scott just reported in from Arlington Hospital. Looks like they're all gonna pull through okay. Alan's secure and Virgil and Grandma are heading up to the Security Ward as well. Listen, Father, about International Rescuees..."

"What about 'em?"

"WNN found out about the operation at LAX. Phil Epstein's blabbing it to the world."

"No," Jeff breathed. "No!"

"Father, the Rescuees should be fairly safe, but if Acronym finds out we're fighting him..."

"Gordon. Tin-Tin. Oh, God." Jeff sagged into his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking how ironic it was that he'd done the same thing not ten hours ago...and things had only gotten worse since then. "Penny and Brains have been injured."

"What?!? Are they okay?"

"They'll be fine. Brains is up and about, and he's tending to Penny. But I have to take Thunderbird 4 out, and I mean now."

"Father, you can't go alone!"

"I have no choice! Brains needs to stay here to work out that formula to counteract UH-3! And Penny's in no condition to be traveling."

At that moment, Penelope and Brains appeared in front of the desk. Her hand was on his shoulder, and she wore a fresh, clean pink blouse.

"Penny, what're you doing out of bed?"

"Jefferson Tracy, if you think you're going to ditch me and take on that submarine yourself, you have another think coming."

"No way, Penny, it's out of the question. You just got stabbed, for God's sake!"

"Stabbed?!?" John exclaimed from the wall.

Penny turned to look at John, dazzling him with a brilliant smile. "Not to worry, John, I'm fine." Then she turned back to Jeff and faced him, eyes blazing. "Don't you tell me what to do, Jefferson Tracy. I am an International Rescue agent. Gordon and Tin-Tin's lives are in danger and you need help. I'm going with you."

Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes told him this was a battle he wasn't going to win. He sighed and shook his head. "Brains, can you continue your work on the formula with the state the lab's in?"

"Uh, yes, Sir. I-I can get Braman to, uh, help me where necessary."

"Good. And check on Otayuki again. I locked him up tight in Containment 1, but I want to make sure he stays there."

"Yes, Sir," Brains replied as he headed for the elevator.

"Otayuki?" John asked.

"Later, John. I'll explain later. Right now, I want you to feed the coordinates of that sub to Thunderbird 4, and then get on with Scott and tell him to get back here as soon as he can."

"F.A.B."

"Tell him to bring Dr. Crawford with him. In spite of having Braman, I think Brains'll need the help."

"Okay, Father."

"And John?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Scott he's got to be 100% on Crawford before he brings her back here."

Understanding fully, John nodded. "F.A.B. Thunderbird 5 out."

Jeff turned his attention to the woman who stood straight as a pin in front of him. "Penny, you have got to be the most stubborn woman I have ever met."

"That's right, Jeff. I am. Now let's get down to Thunderbird 4. I feel like saving some lives."

10:58:52

"I hear voices," Gordon said.

"Yes, they're coming nearer."

Suddenly they heard a key in the lock. It rattled, and then loud cursing followed. The door banged open and all four thugs poured into the room. Two of them grabbed each of Gordon's arms, while the other two grabbed Tin-Tin's.

"So," the one named Greg said as he shook Gordon violently. "You got the door unlocked, huh? Very clever, International Rescue. But it's gonna take more than lock-picking to save your ass now."

Tin-Tin and Gordon exchanged frightened glances. "What are you talking about?" Gordon managed to ask.

Greg sneered. "Your father screwed up, rich boy. Now I get to choose which one of you dies."

10:59:58

10:59:59

11:00:00

Hour Twelve

The following takes place between 11:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.

11:00:21

As the nurses wheeled Virgil out of the OR, Scott rushed to his side. "Virg," he said softly as the group made their way to the elevator. All told, eight people besides Virgil boarded, making for a crowded ride to the eighth floor. Megan eyed Scott and then Virgil, and had the sudden fleeting thought that perhaps these two were more than friends because they were...well, together.

God, I hope not. I can't imagine...they couldn't be gay! Goddammit, why are all the cute ones gay?!? No, I refuse to believe that...I won't believe it...it's something else...I can feel it... Then again, maybe it's just because I don't want him to be gay.

As they piled out of the elevator, she hung back, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what it was about all these operatives that nagged at her so, and wondering why she was wishing so fervently that Scott and Virgil weren't lovers. Suddenly, her pager went off. She studied the number carefully, but didn't recognize it. Wondering who on earth was trying to get hold of her, she made her way to a nearby pay-vidphone. She dialed the number, and it rang only once before someone picked up the line on Voice Only.

"Why, hello there, Dr. Crawford..."

11:04:02

"Thunderbird 4 to Base, initiating Emergency Launch procedure."

"F.A.B. Dr. Otayuki is, uh, still held tight in Containment One. Braman is ready to a-assist."

"Work fast, Brains."

"I-I am, Mr., uh, Jeff. I am. Good luck."

"Thanks. Thunderbird 4 out." Jeff turned to where Penny sat just behind him and to his right. She shifted in her seat as she buckled in, and winced. "Dammit, Penny, I knew you shouldn't have come along."

"Eyes on the road, Jeff. I'm fine."

He sighed and started up the small yellow submarine, more than aware it should be Gordon behind the controls and not him. "All right, hang on. Here we go."

Thunderbird 4 rose slightly on a cushion of air, and then moved quickly down Pod 4's ramp, through the hangar, out the secondary door and down the runway. Penny was amazed at their speed. Before she knew it, the end of the runway had tilted downward and they were diving into the sea.

"You know, I've never been in Thunderbird 4," she remarked.

"I don't go out in her much, I'm more of a flyboy by nature. But I stay up to speed on all the Thunderbirds. You know, just in case."

"Just in case of now."

He nodded, monitoring the instrument panel as they dove deeper and deeper into the murky depths of the Pacific Ocean. He turned on the front lamp and suddenly the world around them was illuminated, bringing light to a world few humans had experienced.

"It's beautiful," Penny breathed, leaving her seat and coming to stand next to Jeff. "No wonder Gordon loves it so much."

Jeff swallowed hard as her words hit home. He only prayed that he and Penelope made it to that sub before the Hood did.

11:09:16

The Hood stopped his subjet about two hundred feet away from his target, lowering the smaller craft to rest on the ocean floor behind a large underwater mountain. "Ah, there you are," he said to the large green square on his radar screen. "But are you really on board, Acronym?"

He considered his options. He could suit up and head over there, but breaking in would be difficult at best, even with his roving sphere and laser cutting equipment. He also desperately wanted to get his hands on Tin-Tin and probably, by default, the other operative that was with her...undoubtedly one of Jeff Tracy's sons. If he held them instead of Acronym, he'd hold all the cards, and at last International Rescue's secrets could belong to him.

Suddenly an alarm sounded from the radar. He peered at the screen, where a smaller green square was moving in from the east. It was fast approaching the submarine. "Well, what do we have here?" he said, his brow furrowed. "Could this be International Rescue themselves, coming to save their own?"

It was an interesting prospect. The Hood decided to sit tight and wait to see what unfolded. If it did turn out to be Thunderbird 4, he'd be able to get his hands not only on Tin-Tin and the other hostage, but whoever was manning their craft as well as the small sub itself. Things were beginning to look brighter and brighter.

11:12:12

Aboard Thunderbird 4, Jeff happened to glance up at his companion, who was still admiring the scenery around them. "Penny," he said softly.

She turned her face toward him, saw the look in his eyes and smiled. "Think nothing of it, Jeff. You would have done the same for me."

"But you...you could've been killed."

Her hand came to rest on his arm. "As could you," she reminded him.

"You shouldn't have...Penny, it was stupid to do what you did."

"Nonsense. I'm not one to stand by and let those I care about die senseless deaths."

He turned back to look out the cockpit window. "Those you care about?" he said, his voice barely a whisper.

She crouched down so that she was eye level with him. "Look at me."

He did.

"Yes, Jeff. Those I care about. Especially if they don't do so well at looking after themselves."

He smiled. "You're crazy."

"Yes, I suppose I am. Jeff..." She hesitated, her hand squeezing his arm.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the moment was broken by a frantic voice ringing out over the airwaves.

"Thunderbird 5 to Thunderbird 4!"

Penny rose and returned to her seat as Jeff answered the call.

"Come in, John, what is it?"

"Father, I'm picking up a transmission coming from six hundred twelve feet west of your present location."

"A transmission?"

"Yes. It's coming from the unidentified sub. But...Father..."

"What?"

"Its destination...it's the hospital in Arlington."

11:16:52

"I don't know who you think I am, Mister. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come now, Dr. Crawford, you know exactly what I'm talking about. My son was killed when that madman bombed Washington, D.C., and it's all International Rescue's fault! There's a hefty price on their heads, and you are in a unique position to benefit from such rewards."

"Listen, the only reason I'm here is because I'm a doctor. Doctors work in hospitals."

"You are a forensic pathologist. And you operate out of Black Hawk County, Iowa. Not Arlington, Virginia."

Megan started. How in the world did this man she was talking to know where she was from? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something about this didn't seem quite right. There was more to this man than a grieving father who wanted revenge.

"You're close to them. I know you are. All you have to do is get my men inside that hospital. That's all you have to do. And you'll be a very rich woman."

11:18:40

"Thunderbird 4 to Scott!"

Standing between Alan and Virgil's beds, Scott raised his wrist so he could see his com watch. "Scott here."

"Are you on a vidphone call?"

"What? No, I'm in Alan and Virgil's room. They're both stable, the nurses just left. I was about to call Agent 53."

"Scott, listen to me. We're about five hundred feet out from the sub we think Gordon and Tin-Tin are aboard. John's just picked up a direct transmission from that sub to where you are."

"What?" Scott looked around the room and suddenly realized someone was missing. "Megan!"

"Find out who's on the line with that sub!"

Scott was out of the room before his father had even finished. He instructed two of the agents outside the door to stay in the room with his brothers, and told the remaining agent to get to the nurse's station and have them locate the source of the incoming call. He raced down the hall and rounded the corner. Clear down at the other end, he saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

Megan Crawford was standing in front of the vidphone on the wall.

"No," he whispered. "It can't be."

11:22:14

Tin-Tin and Gordon had been manhandled through the submarine into the control room. All was quiet for several long minutes until a man emerged from the Ready Room at the opposite end and came to stand in front of them.

"Very nice to meet you at last, Gordon Tracy," he said. Gordon just looked at him. "And you, Miss Kyrano. So lovely of you to have joined our little party."

"Who are you?" Gordon finally asked.

The man bowed slightly. "I am Acronym."

Tin-Tin gasped.

"I am afraid your father has made a grave mistake. It's such a shame, too. You really were my best hostage. But I suppose this young lady will have to do."

"What are you talking about?" Gordon asked in a near-whisper.

"I understand that Greg here has decided you shall be the one to die."

"No!" Tin-Tin cried, struggling against her captors.

Gordon's face remained unreadable as he said quietly, "My father will never give in to you."

"Not even if I kill his son?"

"Killing me will get you nowhere except higher on his shit list."

Acronym laughed. "Ah, you are so much like your father, it almost pains me to have to let this happen. But Jefferson must learn that there are consequences to his actions. As it is, I fear two of your brothers are already lying on their death beds."

"What?"

"Oh, yes, that's right, you've been locked away for so long, you've no idea what's going on, do you? Unfortunately, my operative failed in his attempt to kill your youngest brother Alan. But I think my new friend, the good doctor who has so gracefully ingratiated herself into the fold, will be coming through for me at any moment."

Large tears streamed down Tin-Tin's face as Gordon's shoulders sagged.

"You see, young Gordon, there truly is no way out of this for your family. Soon Virgil, Scott and Alan will be mine. I do apologize for what Greg is about to do to you, but all is fair in love and war."

"My father will kill you," Gordon hissed as Greg and another thug dragged him out of the control room.

"Valiant to the end," Acronym replied as they disappeared from view.

"No! Gordon! No! You can't do this! You can't do this! Take me instead! Kill me!" Tin-Tin cried, fighting to free herself from the strong hands on her arms.

"Oh, no, my dear," he said, cupping her face with his hand. "You are much too pretty to kill. Once this is all over, I have a feeling we're going to hit it off rather well."

"When hell freezes over!" she spat, jerking her head away. "Gordon," she whispered as he laughed and retreated to the Ready Room. "Oh, God. Gordon. No."

11:31:59

"Megan!" Scott called out as he ran down the length of the corridor. "Megan, what are you doing?" She jumped and turned to look in his direction. He reached her in no time and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who were you on the phone with?" he demanded, shaking her, barely concealing his fury.

"Scott, what--? Stop, stop it!"

His grip on her tightened. "Megan, who were you talking to?"

"I-I don't know, Scott. Listen to me, listen! You, the others, they're in danger!"

"What are you talking about?"

"A man, he paged me," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost faster than she could think. "When I called the number, he answered, he told me his son was killed in the attack on D.C. and that a price had been put on your heads!"

Scott let go of her and took a step back. "What?"

"It's one of the nurses, they're working for him. He knows everything, he knows the three of you are here...and Scott...he called you...he called you brothers."

He paled, his jaw dropping, then closing. He had no idea what to say to that. "What--why--why was he calling you?"

"He wanted me to get his men inside the hospital. He offered me an obscene amount of money," she said, her eyes pleading with him to believe her. "He knows I'm from Iowa, he knew so much!"

His mask slipping into place, Scott asked, "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Only that I would do it."

"You did what?" He turned away from her, fighting the anger that surged within him.

"Scott, it was the only way!" she said, reaching out to touch his arm.

"How could you?" he said, shaking her hand off. "I trusted you."

"You still can. Scott, I'm not going to betray you! It was the only way I could get him to tell me which nurse was working for him!"

He turned around, eyeing her warily. "And then what were you going to do? Join that nurse and take us at gunpoint?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Scott, no. I know in your business it's hard to trust anyone. I understand that. But you have to believe me. I had no intention of going through with it."

"You're just backpedaling because I caught you red-handed."

"No. I'm not. I'll prove it to you."

"How?" he ground out.

Megan turned and headed for the ladies room, Scott following her closely. When they entered, she went to the second stall and crouched in front of the toilet. Reaching around behind it, she struggled with something for a moment before it came free. She turned around to face him. In her outstretched hand she held a laser pistol.

"I was supposed to take this, go find the nurse and get down to the loading dock to let his men in."

Scott looked into her eyes. He wanted so badly to believe her; to believe she'd never intended to do whatever it was the caller had asked her to. He reached out and took the gun from her hand, ripping the duct tape off it. "Which nurse were you supposed to meet?"

"Someone called Franklin. Joanna Franklin. Scott, please...you do believe me."

"I don't know what to believe," he said. "Where were you supposed to find this Nurse Franklin?"

"Fourth floor, OR 2."

"Then let's go," he said, waving the gun between her and the door.

Megan silently went ahead of him. What have I done? she thought. What have I done?

11:42:10

Jeff brought Thunderbird 4 down just one hundred feet from the medium-sized submarine that rested on the ocean bed. He turned to Penelope, who'd risen from her seat. "Are you ready for this?"

"What are we going to do, Jeff?"

"I don't know for sure. I don't want to risk injuring Gordon and Tin-Tin by firing on the sub. But maybe if I just damaged her so she couldn't get away..."

"Jeff!" she exclaimed, pointing out the front cockpit window. "What's that?"

His gaze followed her finger, and then he cut Thunderbird 4's lights. "It's another sub." They watched as a small, dark blue mini sub rose from behind an underwater mountain not three hundred feet in front of them. Without warning, Thunderbird 4's alarms began to wail. "Dammit! He's readying weapons!" Jeff said, gunning her motors. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Who is it?" she asked, holding tightly to the back of his chair.

"It's gotta be the Hood," he replied as Thunderbird 4 began to rise. "I can't just leave!" he ground out. "I can't!" The radar began to blip. "Strap in, Penny! Incoming!" Jeff jerked the yoke to the right, and Thunderbird 4 veered sharply, causing Penny to fall back into her seat. The torpedo screamed past, exploding into the rock face behind them. Jeff opened 4's front panel and two large barrels emerged.

Penny struggled to get her buckles fastened as Jeff fired his first shot. It just missed the intruding sub's tail section. The turbulence forced it to turn nose first and sink to the sand below. Just then, the larger sub's engines roared to life, turbines churning the water around them.

"No!" Jeff yelled. He took aim at one of the turbines and fired. His missile hit home, and the turbine blasted off the hull, shooting through the water and disappearing into the darkness. To his surprise, the small sub rose up as the larger one struggled to raise itself with only one working engine. "What the hell is he doing?"

They watched as it made its way toward the top of the mountain it had been hiding behind. The larger one continued its ascent, nose pointing directly at the mountain. Soon it had reached the peak, and climbed higher still. The Hood turned his craft and faced his enemy down. Thunderbird 4's klaxon sounded again as the submarine prepared to fire. But just as it did, the Hood's sub rose vertically, putting it out of harm's way.

Five long minutes passed as the blip on Jeff's radar screen that represented the huge torpedo streaked away. Jeff sank bank, watching it in disbelief. There was nothing he could do. Nothing at all. Then they heard an explosion the likes of which sent chills down their spines and into their very marrow. The ocean bed shook violently, shockwaves slamming into Thunderbird 4.

Her back screaming out in protest at being tossed about so violently, Penny managed to gasp, "What happened?" as the larger submarine, its second engine failing, began to sink.

"I don't know," Jeff replied. "That torpedo's hit something but good." Fighting Thunderbird 4's controls to keep her on keel, he checked the longitudinal map on one of the monitors and all color drained from his face.

"Jeff? What is it?"

"Fiji," he breathed in disbelief. "The Lau Group. My God."

He moved the yoke and Thunderbird 4 began rising through the water. Up and up and up she went until at last she broke through the surface. What Jeff and Penny saw stopped both their hearts.

For not five miles in front of them, a large plume of smoke and water rose into the air. Tidal waves careened into Thunderbird 4, engulfing her, tossing the small craft like a child's toy.

"What's happening?"

"It must have hit the rock bed on the outer islands, the Laus. God, Penny. The people. The people!"

11:54:06

Gordon was led back to the room he and Tin-Tin had shared earlier. He'd tried everything he could to escape the two thugs who had him, but at last Greg had cold-cocked him, sending his world tumbling out of control. He was barely conscious when they dragged him into the room, turning the light on from a panel outside the door.

Greg had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes trying to bring Gordon to his senses on the premise that he wanted him fully aware when he met his end. He'd just begun regaining his balance when the floor jerked beneath them, sending all three sprawling to the floor. Two machine pistols flew from two hands. One landed right near Gordon's face and he grabbed it, fighting to make his brain work, fighting to gather his wits, to try and make sense of what was happening.

"What the hell was that?" Greg yelled.

"We've been hit!" the other thug replied. "Where's my gun?"

"Over here, asshole," Gordon said, his voice low and menacing. He'd scooted back along the floor and propped himself up against the wall. He now held the thug's gun level with his eyes as the sub tilted backwards. Gordon planted his feet on the floor, trying to keep from slipping. Truth be told, he was seeing about three thugs and, to his right, about four Gregs.

"Get him, Paul! He won't shoot you, he's a member of International Rescue."

"Don't bank on it," Gordon replied, swinging the gun in Greg's direction. He could tell by the sound of the motors that one engine had gone dead, while the other struggled to level the ship. Then another sound came to his ears.

The sub was taking on water.

Quick as lightning, Greg launched himself forward and grabbed his gun from the floor. He landed on his back and turned to where Gordon had been leaning against the wall. "What the--? Where'd he go?"

Before he or Paul could react, the door clanged shut. They heard the lock click, and both men sprang to their feet.

"No!" they cried in unison, pounding against the metal bulkhead. "No!"

Their cries sounded faint to Gordon as he closed his eyes and staggered back into the door. The hall was spinning and he couldn't make it stop no matter what he did. He sank to his knees, the gun in his hand falling to the floor. Stomach twisting and turning, he fell forward, hands stopping him momentarily until his arms gave out and he landed on the floor face-first, air whooshing out of his lungs.

The last thing he saw was the water rising to meet him.

11:59:58

11:59:59

12:00:00

to part two >>