CHILD OF FIRE by TB's LMC RATED FRT

After years of torment at the hands of Evil, an orphan finds solace in the arms of International Rescue. But when Evil comes to claim its prize, will it claim International Rescue as well?

Rated FRT for violence involving a minor.

September 10, 2025

"Amazing," he breathed as his mind contemplated the possibilities. "Endless."

Belah Gaat opened his eyes, dark glittering onyx orbs that spoke of evils past, evils present and evils yet to come. The connection he had to his half-brother remained open, though not as focused. He saw designs, schematics, drawings of machines that far exceeded anything in production publicly. He saw ideas and mind maps, charts, graphs, innumerable pieces of paper. Formulas, files, folders...Belah could see it all. And it was all thanks to that fool Kyrano.

He knew his brother was in their midst...these men who were creating wonders using technology that didn't even exist. Metals that had not yet been made. Engines that had been conceived by a mind that was at least fifty years ahead of its time. There were two men that he saw mostly. One he recognized from a meeting not so awfully long ago. The other, he recognized as a famous astronaut-turned-businessman.

"It seems, Jefferson Tracy, that you have gained access to that which I could not."

It was easy. Almost too easy. If Belah could get his hands on that technology, on those machines, he would be rich beyond his wildest dreams. And with great money comes great power. Power. That was the thing he'd sought all his life. Oh, he had some power now. He could command nearly anyone to do almost anything. He was wealthy. His temple hidden deep within the jungles of Malaysia was adorned with jewels and precious metals from around the world. He had servants and planes, boats and the latest in computer technology.

But what Belah Gaat wanted was to rule the world. "And you, Kyrano, are going to help make that happen."

May 16, 2026

His attempt to gain access to what he now knew to be Thunderbird 1 had been successful, but he had failed to bring away a photographic record of the ship's interior. Blast that damnable pink car from hell anyway. He would later discover the car's owner to be none other than elite socialite Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, daughter of Sir Charles Creighton and Lady Margaret Ward. Stuck-up snob, who was she to foil his greatest plan ever?

No matter. Belah had other plots to learn International Rescue's secrets. But for the moment, he was preoccupied with a report he'd gotten on a revolutionary new micro-camera that was going to be made public very soon. So engrossed in this latest news was he that he didn't hear a manservant enter his chamber.

"Begging your most gracious pardon, Master."

Belah jumped, then snarled at the mindless eunuch before him. "What do you want? I told you I was not to be disturbed!"

The smaller man cowered before his lord. Face turned to the floor, he whispered, "I have just returned from Bandar Seri Begawan, Master. I have news for you on the boy."

A small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, Belah rose to his feet, muscles rippling beneath skin-tight black leggings. He stepped down from his dais, leaving the report on his gold and red velvet chair. Approaching his servant, he reached out and touched the man's chin gently, forcing him to look up into his eyes. "Tell me what you know and perhaps I will be pleased enough to spare your life."

"There was a fire in America," the servant said, his voice low and frightened. "The boy's parents were killed. He is being taken to the home of a professor in Cambridge, United Kingdom."

"Why would an American boy be taken to England?" Belah spat.

"He is to be studied and protected, Master, by the world's foremost scientist of the mind, Dr. Ayaku Chidong. Dr. Chidong is currently serving tenure as a psychology professor at Cambridge University."

"What else did you find out?"

"He is being transported aboard Fireflash today, Sir. In your jet, you could reach him in less than eight hours."

Belah growled and swung his arm around, backhanding him across the cheek. The servant fell to the floor, stunned and terrified. "Don't you dare tell me what to do! You are not retained to think!"

"I am sorry, Master. It will not happen again. I promise you."

"You're right," he replied, face as hard as stone. "It won't. Rise to your feet."

The man pushed himself up off the floor. Blood trickled from his lip down onto the dark purple robes his master made him wear whenever he was in the temple. Belah turned, walked up to his chair and reached over to the gold table at its side. From its top he took a long, black sheath. His hand cradled the ivory length sticking out of one end. He grinned as the servant's eyes widened and lower lip began to tremble.

"Master, please, no! I promise I shall not disappoint you ever again! Please, Master! Please do not kill me!"

As Belah approached him, he unsheathed the sword in one long, fluid motion. Dropping the sheath to the black marble floor, he advanced upon his target. "Do not think of it as me killing you," he said softly as the man trembled in fear. "Think of it as me taking you to the next plane of existence. I'm helping you, Qulan. Helping you rise to a place where, hopefully, you will not be as stupid!"

As his words continued, his tone of voice changed until the last word was ground out with such hatred that the force of it leaving his mouth propelled him forward. His hand darted out and the blade cut clean through Qulan's chest, piercing his heart. Belah retracted the sword and watched as the man sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Then he turned away, picking up the sheath from the floor and heading for the opposite side of the room.

"I love you, Master."

Belah stopped cold in his tracks. He turned to face the dying man, who lay on the cold floor in a pool of his own blood. Dropping the sword and sheath, he walked back to him and knelt at his head. Qulan's eyes were unfocused, but he looked up at his master's face all the same.

"What did you say?"

"I said, I love you," he gasped. "For twelve years I have served you well."

"Yes," Belah said softly. "You have. Until now." He stroked the man's long, black hair, his face taking on a look of softness. "Because of your admission, I will allow you to serve me in Eternity."

A look of utter joy filled Qulan's face and he beamed as Belah reached down and ran his finger through the man's blood. Raising the finger to his face, Belah looked into Qulan's eyes. "For your love, your honor and your sacrifice, you shall join my mistress below."

"Thank you, Master," Qulan croaked. As his life force slipped away, the last thing he saw was his beloved master slip his finger into his mouth. "Thank you."

Belah rose to his feet, the blood of his servant still fresh upon his lips. "Now the boy will be mine."

May 17, 2026

The building seemed formidable, but to Belah it was nothing but an inconvenient obstacle, easily overcome. He watched as the guard prepared for the midnight shift change. Stories of International Rescue's latest feat had come only yesterday from military corners. The do-gooders had saved the lives of men aboard the Sidewinder, which had fallen into a burning pit deep in the earth. All hope seemed lost until their men and equipment had pulled Sidewinder to the surface, saving the lives of the three soldiers aboard.

Belah seethed. Such an inane waste of technology. Philanthropic Jeff Tracy and his sons had no idea of the power within their grasp. They could rule every country on the planet, and even places beyond the confines of Earth. Yet instead they chose to save lives, a pursuit Belah could not understand. It was not within his nature to care about others. He commanded respect from those who worked for him, demanded loyalty from those close to him. But no one had ever known the real Belah Gaat save one living soul, and he had betrayed Belah. Kyrano was not to be trusted...but Belah was finding him to be very, very useful indeed, and so he let him live. For now.

The guard walked toward the other side of the building. Belah moved forward across the front lawn to the double glass doors. Within fifteen seconds, he had the door unlocked and slipped inside. Within twenty-five seconds, he had disabled the alarm. He was now free to move about the building. As he turned and locked the door behind him, he could see the new guard coming to his post. Belah laughed. So easy. So damn easy.

He walked up the curved staircase in front of him. His spies had indicated the boy's room was at the far end of the hall on the second floor. Belah found it amusing that a simple alarm and a single guard were all that had been spared to protect the child. After all, he was nothing if not a valuable commodity, at least to Belah. He would see that the boy was well-protected from those who might seek to take him. Once he was in Belah's grasp, the boy would not be leaving. Not until the time was right.

Moving silently down the hall in soft-soled shoes, Belah approached the door at the very end. He turned the knob, and the door opened. And there, sleeping peacefully, was his prize. He moved quickly to the bed and shook the child awake. The five-year old boy rubbed his eyes sleepily as he sat up in bed. When he opened them and looked into the eyes of his captor, he was riveted. Within a few seconds, the boy was under his control. Together they walked back down the hall, descended the staircase and unlocked the front door.

The guard outside turned in surprise. As he lifted his weapon, Belah's eyes locked him into a deadly stare. One minute later, the guard fell to the ground. His heart beat no more. Belah took the boy's hand in his and walked across the lawn and down the street where a car waited. He buckled the child into the passenger's seat, then got in the driver's side and headed for the airport. He had succeeded. The boy was his.

May 18, 2026

"What'cha readin', Brains?"

Brains looked up from the computer screen where he was engrossed in a news article from NTBS. "Well, uh, Scott, i-it's about a missing child."

"A missing child? What happened?"

"They're, uh, they're not certain. A-Apparently, though, he was quite special. Some claimed he had the a-ability to start fires with his mind."

"Seriously?"

Brains nodded as Scott came to stand next to him. The eldest Tracy son looked down at the monitor and began to read. "Mark Phillip Dunlop, age 5, disappeared Sunday night from a secured building just off the campus of Cambridge University in England. His parents, Samuel and Judith Dunlop of Wichita, Kansas, had been killed exactly one week earlier in a fire which consumed their home and that of their neighbor, elderly Wichita resident Victor Price. The cause of the fire is still undetermined. Young Mark was sent to Cambridge as the ward of one of its psychology professors, the renowned Dr. Ayaku Chidong, whose experiments with mind control and supernatural abilities are respected world-wide."

Scott paused and looked at Brains, who was reading further along in the story. "Say, isn't that one of the professors you worked with a while back?"

Brains looked up at him again. "Yes, uh, Scott, it is. He was a good friend of Dr. Timmons, the man who a-adopted me. A-After Dr. Timmons passed away, I-I helped Dr. Chidong with some of his experiments."

"Helped him how?"

"Well, uh, you could say, I suppose, that he, uh, used me as a lab rat."

"That doesn't sound very nice," Scott replied, turning to rest his backside against the table.

"Oh, it was done willingly, I assure you. U-Unfortunately, his tests upon me were disappointing. I-In spite of my genius, I showed no, uh, traces of other abilities. We have, uh, kept in contact off a-and on over the years since I left England."

"Does Penelope know anything about this kidnapping?"

"I-I don't know."

"Maybe she could look into it." Scott turned and continued reading the article. "According to Dr. Chidong, Mark seems to display the ability to start fires simply by willing it to happen. This theory, however, is unsubstantiated, and the state of Kansas was more than willing to let the professor, who had been corresponding with Mark's parents for over a year, adopt the child and take him on as his ward. Dr. Chidong had planned to study Mark to ascertain whether or not he really possessed supernatural abilities. But that was all cut short last Sunday night when an unknown intruder easily got past the man guarding the building, 32-year old Cambridge native William Stockton, who died of an apparent heart attack. The intruder disabled the alarm system and spirited the boy away in the night. There have been no ransom requests and Scotland Yard currently has no leads as to the identity of the kidnapper or the whereabouts of Mark Dunlop."

Jeff Tracy had been standing in the door to the lab listening as Scott read the report. He now entered and came up behind the two men. "We don't usually get involved in kidnappings, you know," he said.

"Oh, uh, Mr. Tracy, I-I wasn't expecting that you, uh, would."

"I was just thinking if Penny wasn't busy, maybe she could check it out."

"Good idea, Scott. It sure wouldn't hurt. I'll contact her and see what she can come up with. Brains, have you heard from Dr. Chidong?"

"No, Sir. I-I was about to contact him."

"Maybe you shouldn't. We wouldn't want him associating you with Penny on this."

"O-Okay."

As Scott and Jeff left the lab, Brains looked at the picture of Mark Dunlop. He was rather tall for five years of age. His dark blonde hair and large, blue-gray eyes seemed boyish enough, but you could sense there was more to him than what you found in most children. Brains hoped Lady Penelope would be able to come up with something. If not for Dr. Chidong's sake, then for Mark's.

The engineer felt bad for the boy. Not only had he been orphaned, but then to be kidnapped by forces unknown...Brains shivered. The same thing could've happened to him, and he knew it. The same thing could still happen to him, even at twenty-four years of age. It was one of the reasons he'd agreed to be taken under Jeff Tracy's wing. Jeff could protect him from those who would use his intelligence for less-than-honorable purposes. Brains had a feeling that whoever had Mark would be trying to use him for no good. His heart went out to the boy. He fervently hoped he'd be found soon, safe and sound.

November 3, 2031 (Present Day)

Jeff laughed as the ball he'd lobbed across the net bounced on the white line. Virgil hadn't gone for it because he'd thought it would land out-of-bounds. "Point for you, Dad!" the six-foot-one man yelled, scowling good-naturedly.

"Ready to admit defeat yet?"

"No way. Serve it up."

Jeff nodded and threw another ball into the air, smacking it hard with his racket. Virgil returned the serve and Jeff hit it right back to him. The two were keeping up a good pace when Jeff noticed a light flashing. He stopped his racket in mid-swing, the tennis ball sailing past him and bouncing away as his eyes traveled to the top of one of the posts holding the net up. Virgil noticed it at the same time, and without a word, the two dropped their rackets on the court and jogged toward the house.

Inside the Lounge, Scott was seated at his father's desk deep in conversation with his brother Alan, whose live video feed came through one of five portraits hanging on the opposite wall. Brains stood nearby, listening and interjecting questions here and there. Tin-Tin and Kyrano entered just before Jeff and Virgil, with Gordon not too far behind.

"What's the situation, Scott?"

He rose to his feet and stepped away from the desk, symbolically relinquishing command to his father. "There's a terrible fire at a high rise on Long Island," Scott said. "Authorities are saying twelve people are trapped inside. The flames have surrounded the structure, and they don't have the equipment to get to the interior, where the group is believed to be."

"All right, then, off you go, Scott."

"F.A.B.," Scott acknowledged, hurrying to his spot against the nearby wall. As it swung him around into Thunderbird 1's hangar, Jeff turned to the remaining members of International Rescue. "Virgil, Gordon, Brains, Tin-Tin, I want you in Thunderbird 2. We'll need all hands on deck for this one."

"F.A.B.," they replied in unison.

"Too bad John's not here," Gordon added as he, Brains and Tin-Tin headed for the hall just outside the Lounge.

"Yeah," Virgil said from the wall across the room as he backed into a floor-to-ceiling painting. "But now that he's got that girlfriend in Auckland, he's never here!"

Alan snickered as Jeff smiled. "All right, then, off with you, son."

"Yes, Father," Virgil replied, smirking. He and his brothers had been teasing John mercilessly about the fact that even when he wasn't on duty in Thunderbird 5, he was never home. John had missed more rescues in the last six months due to being in New Zealand with Rachel than he had due to space station duty.

But Jeff couldn't begrudge at least one of his sons somewhat of a normal life, he mused as the painting upended Virgil and he disappeared from view. After all, they'd been tied down by International Rescue for five years now. Casual girlfriends had come and gone for them all, but John seemed particularly enamored of his latest catch. So much so that Jeff rarely saw his middle son anymore. He sighed as he took his seat behind the desk.

"All right, Alan, keep Thunderbirds 1 and 2 updated with the latest information on this fire."

"Yes, Father. Thunderbird 5 out."

"This is Mobile Control to International Rescue headquarters."

"International Rescue here. Go ahead, Scott."

"I'm all set up on my end. Things look bad, but there's not much I can do until Thunderbird 2 arrives. What is their ETA?"

"They'll be with you in four minutes. Are authorities certain of the number of people trapped?"

"I've just spoken with the fire chief. Apparently every resident of this high-rise has been accounted for except twelve. There's no knowing if they're still inside or if they weren't home when the blaze started. We're missing nine adults and three children."

"All right, Scott. Keep me informed. Go carefully."

"I will, Dad," he replied quietly so as to keep others from hearing. "Mobile Control out." Scott wiped the sweat from his brow. Even from six hundred yards away, the heat being generated by the towering inferno before him was nearly unbearable. Tank engines numbering in the twenties tried valiantly to put the flames out, but they were of little use against the fire that had engulfed the structure. He had his doubts as to whether or not anyone could still be alive inside there, but he had to keep hope. If not for himself, then for those who would soon be arriving in Thunderbird 2.

"Mobile Control calling Thunderbird 2."

"Thunderbird 2 here. We'll be arriving at Danger Zone in two minutes. We can see the blaze from here, Scott. It's fantastic."

"It sure is. Okay, Virgil, here's what I need you to do: drop Gordon and Brains in from the top with Level Five fire suits and as much dicetyline as they can carry. Then land and let Tin-Tin handle the Fire Truck. You and I will take Firefly with the extra dicetyline tank and work our way up from the bottom."

"Understood. Brains and Gordon are getting into their suits now."

"I see you. Be careful hovering, Virg, some of those flames are leaping well beyond the roof. Is there definitely a place they can enter?"

"Yes. Most of the roof actually looks undamaged." Virgil paused for a moment and Scott could hear Tin-Tin speaking to him. "All right, they're ready to go. Lowering now."

Scott couldn't see much more than what looked like two ants dangling from Thunderbird 2's nose from his spot forty floors below on the ground. He watched as Gordon and Brains were lowered, then saw Thunderbird 2 pull away. Within two minutes, she'd landed and risen on her struts. As the pod door began to open, Scott put in a call to his father.

"Mobile Control calling International Rescue."

"Base here."

"I'm joining Virgil and Tin-Tin on the rescue. I'll contact you again as soon as we're finished."

"F.A.B. Base out."

Scott raced to the pod and grabbed the fire suit Tin-Tin held at the ready. "Okay, Tin-Tin," he said as he hurried into the suit, "I want you to cover the area we enter. Whether or not we find survivors, it'll probably be our only way out. You need to keep it open for us."

"F.A.B., Scott," she replied before hopping into the fire truck. Once inside, she pulled on her hood, started the truck and exited the pod, heading for the building's front doors. Scott hauled himself into Firefly and took up position behind Virgil as he started the engine and followed Tin-Tin out of the pod.

"Okay, Virgil, what'd your sensors pick up from the air?"

"I read ten life signs, Scott."

"Only ten?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Five of them are on the third floor. The flames are closing in fast. Brains has the hand-held, so he and Gordon should have no trouble locating the other five. They're on the thirtieth and thirty-second floors."

"All right. We need to get in there, get the five off Floor 3 and get them back out. Then you need to get back up in 2 and be ready to haul the others to safety."

"You got it."

Firefly moved away from Thunderbird 2, then made her way down the street toward the fire. When she reached the front entrance, instead of stopping, Virgil pushed her clean through. Glass shattered and concrete crumbled around them as they barreled their way into the center of the building where the fire had not yet reached. Exiting the rescue vehicle, the brothers charged up the stairs, praying they weren't too late.

Gordon and Brains had a somewhat easier time of it. They'd located all five of their victims huddling together and were just getting them all out onto the roof, which was still fairly fire-free. As Gordon attempted to calm the frightened woman and four children, Brains frowned when the hand-held LSI bleeped. He looked at the screen in shock. It couldn't be.

"Gordon!"

"What?" The copper-haired young man asked as he loped to where Brains stood.

"The Life Sign Indicator...there's a-another person down there."

"But...I thought Thunderbird 2's unit found only five up here."

"It did. This one...it wasn't registering. I-I didn't even pick it up u-until now. I-I'm going back in for them."

"No, Brains, let me."

"Gordon, I-I'm perfectly capable of rescuing someone from a-a non-burning floor."

Gordon had to smile. In spite of the fact that he felt he should be going instead of Brains, he was also aware of his back screaming out in pain over his recent efforts. Half-carrying a two-hundred pound man had done nothing to ease the latest difficulties he'd been having thanks to recent spasms. Still...

"Brains, listen, this is my job. It's what I do. I'll go get the last person."

"Mobile Control to Roof Unit. Come in."

"We're here, Scott," Gordon replied.

"Status."

"Five victims safely on the roof. But Brains' LSI has found another one. One we didn't see before."

"All right. You go back in after that one and have Brains ready the others for transport. Virgil will be with you inside a minute."

"F.A.B." Gordon turned to let Brains know he was going in...but he was nowhere to be seen. "That sonofa--!!"

"What? Gordon, what?"

"Dammit, Scott, Brains went in himself!"

"He did what? Well, never mind, just help get the others into Thunderbird 2. If Brains isn't out by the time you're finished, go in after him."

"F.A.B."

Gordon watched as Thunderbird 2 hovered overhead. The rescue cage slowly descended. As he waited with the others for its arrival, he silently cursed Brains for going in on his own. Certainly Brains was as much a member of International Rescue as any of them, and he'd been on almost as many rescues as Gordon had. But that didn't make Gordon any more confident in the engineer's ability to handle something like this on his own. He tapped his foot impatiently as the cage neared the roof. All he wanted to do was get back into the building, find Brains and the other victim, and get them both out safely.

For some reason, he had a bad feeling that just wouldn't go away.

Brains hurried down six flights of stairs. The LSI was showing him their final survivor was located midway 'round the corridor of the thirty-fourth floor. He dashed out into the hall and raced through the thickening smoke. He felt bad for ditching Gordon as he had, but Brains couldn't just stand around there and argue with him, not when there was a life at stake. And from what his scans told him, that life belonged to a child.

When he rounded the corner, he could see nothing at all, so dark and smoky was the air. He walked quickly as loud creaks and groans told him the building would be collapsing at any moment. He had little time left, and he knew it. The LSI beeped louder and louder until at last it became a flat tone. Brains stopped and looked around. He didn't see a soul. "Hello!" he called out. But then he realized the victim probably wouldn't be able to hear him through his hood. So he took a deep breath, removed it and cried out, "Hello!?!" He waited to hear something...and finally, he did.

"Help me," came a small voice from his left. There was a door. He banged on it.

"Are you in there??" he yelled.

"Yes," was the faint reply. "Help me."

Brains ran at the door shoulder-first and banged into it hard. Wincing at the momentary pain, he backed up and rammed it again. And again. And again. Finally the door began to give way. With one final hit, he was through. To his right stood a boy that couldn't have been more than ten. He wore nothing but a pair of underwear. Brains looked around the living room of the apartment, then ran into the bedroom. He grabbed the comforter off the bed and raced back out to where the obviously frightened boy stood shivering near the front door.

Lifting his hood once more, Brains smiled and said, "Don't worry. I-I'm gonna get you out of here now. Okay?"

The boy nodded as Brains replaced his hood. He then wrapped the child from head-to-toe in the comforter, lifted him into a fireman's carry and headed out of the apartment and back down the corridor. But as he got about halfway back to the stairwell, the floor beneath his feet began to move. At first, it shook only slightly. Brains broke into an all-out run. He knew what the shaking meant. For the first time, he wondered if he and the boy would make it.

"Gordon!"

"Brains! Where are you, I'm in the stairwell between thirty-seven and thirty-six!"

"On thirty-four, I've got the boy, we're almost to the stairwell!"

"Right, on my way!"

Brains banged the door open and headed up the first flight of stairs. The staircase shook, more violently this time. "Come on, come on, not too much further," he mumbled as he took the steps two-at-a-time.

But it didn't matter how much further it was, because Brains and the child were not going to make it.

Gordon watched in horror as the lower part of the staircase began to crumble ten floors below them. The degradation moved upward like a reverse domino effect, coming nearer and nearer to those trying desperately to escape.

"Brains! Look out!" Gordon cried. He was almost there...he could almost reach them. He had to reach them. He had to!

But the staircase fell away. Gordon slipped and almost careened over the edge of the landing on Floor Thirty-Five. He caught himself on the railing and pulled his body back up, only to see Brains and his bundle, the boy he was trying to save, fall away. Instinctively, Gordon reached out his hand toward them.

"Brains!" he cried. "Noooooo!"

But they were gone.

"Shit! Virgil, get Gordon out of there now!" Scott cried into the microphone. He raced to Firefly, where Tin-Tin waited in the cockpit. She'd already started the engine and threw it into high gear as soon as Scott was inside. The lower right three-quarters of the building had fallen away, leaving only a pile of rubble in its wake as the rest of the structure threatened to collapse.

"He has to be okay," Tin-Tin said through clenched teeth. "He just has to."

Firefly moved in, Tin-Tin expertly clearing a path into the debris, trying to get near the place they'd both seen Brains fall to. Before long Thunderbird 2 had landed again, and Virgil and Gordon waited anxiously nearby for their counterparts to finish making a path.

"Damn him, I knew he shouldn't have gone!" Gordon said as they watched Firefly's seemingly slow progress. "Goddammit, Virgil, it should've been me!"

"He'll be fine, Gordo, you know Brains. He's resilient." But Virgil was trying to convince himself more than his brother. He hadn't seen Brains fall like the others had, but it was a long way down from the thirty-fifth floor to the top of the pile of rubble, which itself stood at least three floors high. "Why did he go without you?" he asked, more rhetorically than anything.

"He always feels like he has to prove himself, like he's not good enough unless he endangers his life the way we do," Gordon replied.

"What?" Virgil said, brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"He told me once," Gordon said as he watched the path become more clear ahead of them. "Though not in so many words."

Virgil shook his head. "We're gonna have to have a talk with him. This is ridiculous."

"If he makes it outta there."

Virgil placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "He will, Gordo. He has to."

The first thing Brains noticed was pain. Where exactly it was coming from he couldn't tell. It felt like it was coming from everywhere. Every point on his body hurt like hell. He could feel something in his arms and wondered for a moment what it was. But then he remembered, remembered it all.

Eyes snapping open, Brains came face-to-face with the victim he'd been trying to save. The child's eyes were closed, and Brains wondered for a split-second if he were dead. Then he felt soft breath upon his lips and realized the boy was still alive.

"Thank God," he whispered.

The heat. God, the heat was so intense. Brains felt like a slab of beef roasting on a barbecue grill. He could see flames out of his peripheral vision, but when he turned his head to get a better look, pain shot right through it.

"Oh, that's not good," he winced, willing the new headache to subside.

And then he heard it. He heard an engine. He knew that sound as surely as he knew his own credentials. It was Firefly! Relief flooded through Brains and he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms even tighter around the precious bundle atop him. "We'll be out soon," he said as his mind began to shut down. "They'll have us outta here...in no...time..."

At last a path had been cleared. Gordon and Virgil rushed forward as Scott and Tin-Tin exited Firefly.

"Brains!" Scott cried, climbing up the white-hot debris. Even through his heat suit it was scorching. "Brains! We're coming!"

Scott and Virgil were the first to reach him. When they looked down at the two still forms, both their hearts stopped for a moment. Suddenly neither of them really wanted to check for a pulse. They didn't want to know if Brains wasn't alive. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Scott crouched down and pulled a glove off.

He smiled the biggest smile Virgil had ever seen as he announced, "He's alive."

"Thank God!" Gordon commented as he helped Tin-Tin to the top of the debris. "I would never have forgiven him if he'd gone and gotten himself killed."

"What about the victim?" Tin-Tin asked.

Virgil bent down and grabbed Brains' hands in an attempt to move them so he could get the bundle away from him. He frowned. "Jesus, he's got 'im held tight," he breathed. Then he pulled harder, finally succeeding in wrenching Brains' arms away altogether. He lifted the victim into his arms, only then realizing it was a boy.

"Let's go. Tin-Tin, help Virgil get that one back to Firefly. Gordon, you're with me."

"F.A.B.," Gordon and Tin-Tin replied in unison.

"He doesn't look so good, Scott," Gordon said as lifted Brains' legs.

"I know. Looks like we'll be on our way to a hospital before going home."

Gordon nodded. Getting a grown man back down the side of the debris without losing your step or dropping said man was no easy feat, but at last they reached the ground. Scott then hiked Brains into a fireman's carry and sprinted to Firefly. Before long, the four heroes and their fallen comrade, together with a small boy whose life had been spared, were on their way back to the Thunderbirds.

November 6, 2031

The room was dark except for the faint glow of hallway lights that crept through a small, rectangular window in the door.

Beep...beep...beep...

The sound was rhythmic.

Beep...beep...beep...

The sound was hypnotic.

Beep...beep...beep...

The sound was downright...annoying.

And John Tracy had been listening to it for nearly three days now. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his weary eyes. It was nearly 11 o'clock at night. Rising to his feet, he stretched his tall frame before looking down at the bed before him.

"Guess I should call it a night, Brains," he said tiredly. "I sure wish you'd wake up."

"Don't fret so, John," came a woman's voice from the other side of the room. "He's going to be okay. Both of them are."

John smiled and turned to face the other bed in the room, a bed which held the boy Brains had rescued from the burning building. On the other side of that bed sat a lovely woman whose long auburn hair flowed gracefully to just beneath her shoulders.

"I know, Rachel, I know. I worry too much. But...well, I've never seen him like this before."

"It was very brave of him to go back for this boy," she commented. "Even with International Rescue on the scene, if your friend hadn't done what he did, this little man would never have made it."

"Yeah, he's a hero, all right. I guess it's lucky he was there when it all went down."

"In a manner of speaking." Rachel turned her green eyes down to face the child, who'd been watching the entire exchange with seemingly great interest. "Well, young man, I'm afraid we'll have to be going for the night. Is that okay?"

John walked over to stand on the near side of the bed. "He hasn't said a word the whole time he's been awake."

"No. And he doesn't acknowledge with a nod or a blink or anything. Do you think perhaps he's deaf?"

John shrugged. "I guess he could be, although the doctor said other than the broken arms and cracked ribs, he was fine. Maybe we'll ask him about it in the morning."

"Back to the motel?" Rachel asked, rising to her feet.

"Back to the motel." John turned and looked at his friend's still form once more. "We'll be back tomorrow, Brains." Then he turned back to face Rachel, who was holding her hand out to him. "Bye, little man," he said to the boy, waving the fingers of one hand while he grasped Rachel's hand with the other.

The boy didn't move or say a word, but his eyes followed the two adults as they left the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Grunting a bit from the effort, the boy wrestled himself into a sitting position so he could peek around the curtain to the next bed.

Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes opening wide. Lower lip beginning to tremble, the boy laid down and his lips began to move as though he were speaking. But no sound emerged. He would spend the rest of the night this way, utterly alone...yet not.

November 7, 2031

"Any luck ID-ing the boy?"

"No, Father. None yet. Even Rachel's contacts in the government haven't been able to give us any leads."

"Has he spoken at all? If he had an accent, it might give us an idea of what region he's from, at the very least."

"No. He hasn't breathed a word. He watches us, follows us with eyes. And he seems like he's listening, but he never so much as nods his head. It's getting frustrating."

"It's understandable, I suppose. He's been through a terrible trauma. What about Brains?"

"He was still unconscious when we left around eleven last night, and since I haven't gotten a call from the hospital, I'm assuming he still is."

Jeff sighed. "Well, I suppose the overexertion combined with all his broken bones isn't helping matters."

"Yeah, they've got him on enough painkillers to knock out an elephant."

"Keep digging, John. I know it's not our responsibility, but I'd sure like to help that kid out."

"Will do. We're going to check with the orphanages in the area today. I'll have Rachel skim her contacts again and we'll also give all the precincts a shout, just in case any kids have been reported missing since the last time we checked."

"Rachel's turning out to be quite an asset to you. I'm glad she went with you to look after Brains."

"Yeah, me too. It's just lucky for us that she's New Zealand's Special Representative to the United States."

Jeff couldn't help but crack a smile. "You don't do anything halfway, do you, son?"

John winked and grinned. "No, Sir, not John Tracy."

His father chuckled. "All right, I'll expect to hear from you again at noon."

"F.A.B."

Noon, and the call to Tracy Island, came and went with no further information to impart. Frustrated, John had agreed to Rachel's suggestion that they go out for some lunch before heading to the hospital. But just as John turned to close the door on their motel room, the vidphone rang. He raced back inside and flipped it on.

"Hello, John Tracy speaking."

"Ah, Mr. Tracy, I'm glad you're there. This is Dr. Allen from NYU Medical Center. Your friend Mr. Hackenbacker has regained consciousness."

"He has? That's great!" John grinned. "We're on our way!"

Brains lay quietly with his eyes closed. He'd had enough poking and prodding for one day. He was so groggy from the pain medication that he was stammering twice as badly as usual, which had made for very slow-going when trying to answer the doctor's questions. At last, however, the doctor and nurse had left him alone. Brains knew there was someone else in the room with him, but couldn't see them due to the curtain that had been drawn between the two beds.

He heard the door to his room open and footsteps approaching his bed. His eyes blinked open, and he smiled when he saw the man standing above him. "John," he whispered.

"Hi, Brains," John said, placing one hand on his friend's arm. "How do you feel?"

"A-A-Awful."

John smiled. "Don't worry. You'll be back to new in no time."

"N-N-Not with br-broken bones."

John leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Oh, come on, you just wanted to get out of the overhaul on 3."

Brains noted the twinkle in John's eyes and just grunted. He was too tired to do anything else.

"Someone here I want you to meet, Brains," John said, reaching his hand beyond Brains' line of vision. The engineer's eyes widened when a pretty woman appeared next to the bed. "Brains, this is Rachel Long. Rachel, this is Brains."

"Hello, Mr. Hackenbacker," Rachel said with a smile. "It's wonderful that you've regained consciousness."

Brains recognized her accent immediately, and surmised this must be John's girlfriend from Auckland. Now he understood why John had whispered to him about Thunderbird 3. "Th-thank you. N-Nice to m-m-meet you," Brains stammered.

"Oh, you're very tired. Perhaps we should leave him to rest, John."

"Yeah, I guess so. We'll be by later when you're up to it. Okay?"

Brains nodded before closing his eyes. Boy, John sure had a looker there with that long, red-brown hair and those green eyes. And she seemed really nice, too. Those Tracy brothers, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Aren't they always the lucky ones?

The little boy had been listening to the brief exchange between the tall, blonde man, his dark-haired female companion and the one who had two names. Now the room was silent once more. He swung his legs out over the edge of the bed and slid down to the floor. Quietly he crept around the curtain until he was standing next to Brains' bed. He stood looking down at him. His face seemed to soften as a light frown creased his forehead.

Lifting one casted arm with difficulty, the child reached his fingertips out and touched Brains' hand. He knew his Master had placed him in danger, and that the man with short brown tousled hair had saved his life. As he thought these negative thoughts about the man who had raised him, the soft look disappeared and his eyes went glassy. The boy's body became stiff as a board, but his hand never left that of the engineer.

Laughter echoed off the stone walls of the cavernous room. Fire flickered, dancing as invisible forces swirled through the air like wind. The Hood's eyes glowed as he rose from his gilded chair and strode to a mirror hanging on the far wall, a mirror that was as tall and wide as he.

"My young servant, show me what you see."

A smoky fog appeared briefly in the mirror before a window seemed to open. The Hood watched as the picture solidified. Within seconds, he knew exactly who he was looking at.

"Ah, my old friend from Lake Anasta," he growled. "Then I'm on the right track. Boy, see to it that you do not leave this man's side." He felt the boy's compliance and began to laugh once more. "Hello. Brains."

Brains woke several hours later. He felt much more coherent, but also hurt more than before, telling him the painkillers and sedatives had all but worn off. His mouth was dry, but with one arm in a cast and the other in a sling, there wasn't much he could do about it. Feeling something on his hand, he looked down and saw a child sitting next to his bed, head on the side, fingers entwined with his.

"Hello," Brains rasped. The boy stirred, then slowly raised his head. When Brains saw who it was, he gasped. "You're the boy from the building. You're alive!" The child did nothing but stare into his eyes. "Your arms," Brains continued, noticing the boy's casts, "they're broken?" He didn't answer. Brains frowned. "What's your name?"

Just as he looked like he might speak, the door opened, startling him. In walked Rachel and John, who were surprised to find the child out of bed. "Hey, Brains, you're awake!"

"Yes, and it looks like the little boy came over to say hello," Rachel said, smiling.

"Uh, yes, he did. Will he be a-all right?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. He has a broken arm and a few cracked ribs, but he made it out a lot better than you did."

"What's my diagnosis, Dr. John?"

Rachel hid her smile as she helped the child back to his bed.

John looked thoughtful as he tapped on the cast covering Brains' entire right leg, the cast on his left shin and the cast on his left arm. "I'd say you're gonna be pretty helpless for the next couple of months, so you'd better be nice to me if you expect me not to put those potato bugs of yours right down inside..." He paused as he wiggled a finger into the space between Brains' arm and the cast. "...here."

"You wouldn't d-dare." John just waggled his eyebrows before he and Brains burst into laughter. Just as quickly, however, Brains' face contorted into a grimace and he groaned in pain. "Y-You did that o-on purpose," he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"I didn't! Honest! I forgot about the broken ribs."

"G-God. Anything e-else you're neglecting t-to mention?"

"Yeah, your stutter's worse."

"J-Just you wait 'til I-I'm outta this c-cast, John."

John chuckled as he sat in the chair next to Brains' bed. "Sorry, man, really. You know me, I can't help being--"

"A-A jackass?"

John laughed out loud. "Touché!"

"Really, John," chided Rachel as she approached the two men. "You're incorrigible."

"A-At least she's got y-you pegged," Brains said.

"Yeah. No hiding anything from Rachel. She's too smart," John said as he grasped her hand. Brains noted the look that passed between them, and he felt happy for his friend. Rachel leaned down and kissed the tip of John's nose before turning her attention back to Brains.

"Mr. Hackenbacker, in answer to your question, the bone in your right thigh was broken in two places. Both bones in your left shin were broken, and your left arm is broken top and bottom. Your right shoulder was dislocated, which is why your arm is in that sling. You broke four ribs and cracked two, and you've got one whopper of a concussion."

"A-Are you a doctor?"

She laughed lightly. "No. I just listen to doctors when they talk." This she said while looking pointedly at John.

"What's sh-she talking a-about?"

"She's reminding me how much of a disturbance I created when the doctor tried to kick me out the first night I was here. He said you needed rest. I said you needed..." John hesitated. What he'd actually told the doctor was that Brains needed family, but Rachel hadn't been in the room at the time, and he didn't want to give anything away right now. "I said you needed your friends."

"St-Stubborn as a-always. Hey, John?"

"Yeah?"

"What's the boy's name?"

John shrugged and he frowned. "We don't know. He won't speak. We've been trying to determine his identity since we arrived, but no luck so far. We spent today rechecking with the police on Long Island and all over New York City and Jersey, but there haven't been any kids reported missing in the area matching this one's description. We also hit every orphanage in a twenty-mile radius. Bupkiss."

"Orphanage?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes. We thought perhaps the child may have been an orphan since no relatives have stepped forward to inquire as to his whereabouts. The police have conducted interviews with every occupant of that apartment building, but no one recognizes him."

John saw the look of pain pass over his friend's face and patted his hand. "Looks like you need some more drugs, Brains."

"Th-The pain does s-seem to be g-getting w-worse."

"I'll fetch the doctor," Rachel said. She squeezed John's hand before retreating from the room.

"N-Nice g-girl you've got th-there, John."

"Yeah, she sure is. I think I've been hit, Brains."

"B-By what?"

"Cupid's arrow," he replied dejectedly.

Brains just smiled. "Th-There are w-worse things to b-be hit b-by. T-Take it from m-me."

"Your stutter's worse, Brains, and I'm not just being a jackass."

"G-Gets worse w-with pain. A-Always h-has."

"What were you thinking going back in that building alone? Gordo's pretty pissed off at you."

"I-I couldn't j-just s-stand there a-and wait f-for the b-boy to b-burn to death."

"Oh, well. We can talk about it later." John looked over at the next bed, where the child was lying sound asleep. Then he turned back to Brains. "No matter why you did it or how you did it, you're a hero, Brains. You saved that kid's life, and very nearly lost your own."

The engineer couldn't help but blush. "Y-You would've d-done the s-same."

"Yeah. I know. Everybody's worried about you, they want you to come home. I've been assigned to be your watchdog 'til you do."

"I-I don't n-need a w-watchdog. Wh-What if a r-rescue call c-comes in?'

"Dad said he'd beep my watch if anything hairy came up. In the meantime, Rachel and I are doing our damndest to figure out who this kid is. Did he say anything to you at all before the building collapsed?"

"N-No. A-All he s-said was h-help me, wh-when I f-first got th-there." Brains sighed and leaned back into his pillow. "I-I was r-running with h-him. Th-The building st-started shaking. I-I thought w-we could m-make it. G-Gordon w-was there. I-I saw his f-face as w-we fell." Here, Brains closed his eyes, willing the images of the experience away.

John grabbed Brains' fingers in a brief squeeze. "I'm sorry, Brains. I shoulda been there, not in Auckland with Rachel. I shoulda been on that rescue. Not you."

"N-No worries," the engineer smiled, squeezing his hand back. "Y-You have e-every right to t-try and m-make a n-normal life f-for yourself." John smiled and rolled his eyes. "B-Besides, I-I really was t-trying to g-get out o-of the 3 o-overhaul."

"I knew it!" John crowed, glad the serious moment had passed.

"Knew what?" Rachel asked as she entered the room, Dr. Allen in tow.

"Oh, nothing," John said, releasing Brains' hand and rising to his feet. "Hey, Doc, how about some knockout drops for my friend here?"

"Hi, Penny. What've you come up with?"

"Hello, Jeff," Lady Penelope said from her place within a vid portrait not too far from where the five portraits of the Tracy sons hung on the Lounge wall. "Rachel Long seems to be who she says she is: New Zealand's Special Representative to the United States. Her father and mother were both involved in Australian politics, and were at the forefront of the movement to dismantle the British aristocracy."

"Oh, a rebel bunch, eh?" Jeff smiled at Penny's frown.

"Now, Jeff, don't go political on me. There is one thing that's a bit disturbing."

"Oh, no. I knew this was too good to be true. Okay, Penny, let's have it."

"Well, there's a period of about eighteen months in which Miss Long's history seems to have a gap. She reappeared in New Zealand two years ago and was named SRUS almost immediately."

"Hm. What do you make of it?"

"I'm not certain, but I'm going to keep digging. I have an old friend on the Australian council who may be able to help me out. I'm flying down to my ranch later this afternoon. Would you...care to join me, Jeff?"

Although not startled by her request, Jeff was more than a little embarrassed seeing that both Gordon and Tin-Tin were in the room. He cleared his throat and forced a smile. "No, Penny, I really can't leave Base this time. With Brains in the hospital and John in New York to watch over him, we're running low here as it is."

She smiled graciously. "Very well. I shall report as soon as I have more information."

"Thanks, Penny."

As Jeff cut the line, Gordon said, "Watch out, Dad, you're gonna make her mad like you did last time."

Tin-Tin covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

"Never mind about that. Okay, you two, what's the latest on the Thunderbird 3 overhaul?"

John and Rachel had just left the hospital. It was nearly 8 o'clock and they were starving.

"I say we try that bistro we saw a few blocks from here," Rachel suggested.

"You're on. Wanna hoof it?"

"Hoof it?" Rachel laughed. "You American boys have such interesting sayings. Certainly. Let's hoof it."

John grinned and took her hand. They'd made it to the front of the restaurant when John's watch communicator began to beep. He groaned.

"What's that, John?"

"Ah...it's my watch alarm. I need to, uh, check in with my dad."

"Very well. There's a public vidphone half a block back you can probably use. I'll get us a table and place our order."

"Okay," John said as he leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "I'll be right back."

She smiled and entered the bistro. As soon as she'd disappeared, John hurried into an alley to the building's left. He raised his wrist to his face and spoke. "John Tracy speaking."

Jeff appeared in the watch face. "Sorry to bother you, son. Are you clear?"

"Yeah, Dad, Rachel's gone on ahead into the restaurant."

"John, we've got a bad situation brewing in the Rockies up near Hay River."

"Canada?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, John, but I need you there. Scott, Virgil and Gordon just aren't going to be enough for this one. Can you make your apologies to Rachel?"

"Yeah, I'll just tell her I have to run for business. With the jet, I can make it in a couple hours. Where's the closest runway for me to land up there?"

"There's a small abandoned air field five miles east of Hay River. You should be able to put in a safe landing there."

"F.A.B. I'll coordinate with Thunderbirds 1 and 5 as soon as I'm in the air."

"Thanks, John. Base out."

John sighed as he jogged around to the front door of the bistro. Well, this wouldn't be the first lie he'd told Rachel in order to safeguard International Rescue's secrets, but it would certainly be the biggest in the six months they'd known each other.

November 8, 2031

In the wee hours of the morning, Brains opened his eyes and yawned, feeling much better than he had the day before. He became aware of a presence next to him and looked down to find the boy sitting in the chair, once again with his head face-down on the bed and their fingers entwined. Brains smiled sadly at the boy's dark blonde hair as he recalled his conversation with John and Rachel.

"Maybe you are an orphan," he said softly as he squeezed the boy's fingers. "But if so, what were you doing in that apartment building?"

Rachel faced a stern visage on the vidphone, wishing nothing more than for the call to be over. "Are you absolutely certain it's him?" the man asked in a clipped British accent.

"Not absolutely, no. I told you, there's no way to positively identify him."

"Yes, there is, and you know it."

"I think it would be best to wait until he's out of the hospital. When Jeff Tracy got the hospital staff to put the boy in with Mr. Hackenbacker, it made things a bit too complicated."

"I need you to be certain, and quickly! If that boy is who we think he is, the British government wants him back. And now!"

She raised her chin defiantly. "Don't forget who put you on to him to begin with! Without me, you'd be nowhere!"

"And don't you forget your job. If it wasn't for your boyfriend, you wouldn't be anywhere on this either. You're lucky I don't put you on the frequency taps in Antarctica!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Agent Long, if you don't get a positive ID on that boy within the next few days, that's precisely where you'll find yourself! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly. Sir," she ground out as he cut transmission. "Damn!"

Now what? She couldn't interrogate the boy because he wouldn't speak. And she couldn't get him alone to try and test him. And then there was John. Well, he was away on business for his father at the moment, but she expected him to return later in the day, which didn't give her much time. Grabbing her jacket from the back of a nearby chair, Rachel pocketed a few items and headed out of the motel.

She had to act. She didn't have a choice. And she knew it. If she could verify the boy's identity, fellow agents of the European Secret Service would swoop in and take him, and John would be none-the-wiser. Then she could just go back to being his girlfriend instead of spying on him as well.

She hoped.

November 9, 2031

"Excuse me, where are you taking that patient?"

Rachel stopped short and turned to face the inquiring voice. Smiling sweetly, she replied, "I'm sorry, I was just taking him for a walk. He's getting a bit bored sitting in that hospital bed with a companion who sleeps most of the time."

"You can't remove the patient from his room, Miss. Please return him immediately. His doctor has not cleared him for mobility."

Rachel felt like just pulling her gun out of the holster hidden beneath her blouse, but thought the better of it. "Very well. I'm sorry," she said to the boy as they turned back toward the room. "It looks like our little jaunt will have to wait."

The boy, hand in Rachel's, followed her back into the room. She closed the door behind them and sighed in frustration. Now what? Then a sound caught her ear. John's friend, the one he always called "Brains" for some reason, was snoring.

"Maybe I can do this now after all," she murmured, helping the child onto his bed. "Listen to me, young man. I have some pictures I want to show you. Would that be all right?" Rachel pulled five pictures out of an inside jacket pocket. When she held the first picture up, she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes and smiled.

"Good, good. You know these people, don't you?"

The boy's eyes were glued to the photo.

"Now how about this second one?"

The child jumped, eyes widening as he took in the photo of a house on fire. Rachel nodded. She was right. This was the boy they were looking for. She showed him the third picture of a completely burned down house, and her heart nearly broke as tears appeared in the boy's eyes. "Only two more," she said. The fourth picture caused an entirely different reaction.

It was an external photo of a building located at Cambridge University in England. The boy's face clouded, his tears disappearing. At last she held up the fifth picture. It was a picture of a room at the end of a long hallway. A room in which a small boy sat on the floor playing with some toys.

The boy began to shake, his eyes growing even wider, his teeth clenching. She dropped the photos onto the bed and backed away. The boy stared at the one of the child in the room and grew more and more angry as the seconds passed.

"That's it," Rachel whispered, now standing near the door of the room. "That's it, Mark. Go ahead. Make it happen."

The faces of the photos began to bubble as Rachel watched in awe. Before she knew it, all five pictures burst into flames. She rushed in with a blanket and snuffed them out just as the fire alarm bell began to ring. Grabbing the communicator out of her pocket, she activated an open line to Headquarters.

"This is Long. I have positive identification. The boy is Mark Dunlop."

"Very well. Two men will meet you at the base of Stairwell C-3 in the underground parking structure of the hospital. You will turn the child over to them."

Rachel grabbed the boy's hand and led him out into the hallway, which was a mess of confusion. She ran to the nearest emergency stairwell and led him into it. Nobody saw them go.

Brains was nearly frantic. He couldn't move from the bed and didn't see the boy anywhere in their room. The fire bell continued ringing for many long minutes as Brains pressed the Call Button over and over again to no avail. Finally the bell stopped. It was nearly thirty minutes later that Rachel appeared in the door.

"Mr. Hackenbacker!"

"Rachel! Wh-Where's the b-boy? Wh-What's going o-on?"

Rachel looked back out into the hall, then turned back to face Brains. "Perhaps he's been taken for physical therapy. I'll go and see if I can round up his doctor."

"Thanks," Brains breathed, sinking back into his pillows as she flew from the room. Rachel was probably right. The boy had probably just been taken for some physical therapy. But there was something niggling at the back of his mind, something he'd thought he heard just after the fire alarm sounded. It was a name that had seemed vaguely familiar. For a moment, Brains couldn't put his finger on it.

And then it hit him. "No," he breathed. "It couldn't be. That boy...it couldn't be!"

Scott, John and Jeff arrived in New York City later that night. Brains had put in a call to them earlier, telling them the child he'd rescued had disappeared, along with Rachel. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of her since she'd gone to speak with his doctor, and the New York City police had had no luck in picking up leads.

The first thing the Tracy men did upon arrival was check John and Rachel's motel room. Nothing seemed out of place. The maid had been there and cleaned up, and the bed wasn't even rumpled, telling them Rachel probably hadn't been there since at least noon, which is when the maid said she'd serviced the room.

Their next stop was the hospital, where they found a nurse struggling to get Brains to take his medication.

"No! I don't want to be sedated!"

"If you don't take this now, you're getting a shot!"

Jeff cleared his throat as he and his sons entered the room. "What seems to be the trouble here?"

The nurse whirled around as Brains breathed a sigh of relief. "Who are you?" she asked.

Smiling and holding out his hand, he replied, "Jefferson Tracy, Nurse--?"

"Hernandez," she breathed, taking his hand. "You mean you're the Jefferson Tracy? Of Tracy Corporation?"

"One and the same," he replied, shaking her hand firmly. "Nurse Hernandez, if you'll give us a few moments with your patient, I assure you that when we're through, he'll take those pills."

Nurse Hernandez turned around and shot a look at Brains, then turned back to Jeff, all smiles. "You have yourself a deal," she said, plopping the small container of pills into his hand. "May you have better luck than I did."

And with that, she left the room. No sooner had the door closed behind her than John and Scott were chuckling as they all went to stand by Brains' bedside.

"You've been taking How To Be A Bad Patient lessons from Scott, haven't you?" John asked.

"Hey, I'm not that bad," Scott said. "How are ya, Brains?"

"I-I'm sorry for all the t-trouble, guys. I-I just wanted to b-be awake when you a-arrived."

"Well, you've accomplished that," Jeff said sternly. "But as soon as we're done, you're taking this medicine if I have to force it down your throat myself."

"O-Okay," Brains said meekly. "H-Have you found the b-boy or, uh, Rachel?"

"No leads," John said, his face becoming serious. "Brains, what'd she say the last time you saw her?"

"O-Only that she was, uh, going to check w-with the boy's doctor to, uh, see if h-he'd been taken to physical th-therapy."

"And that was after the alarm stopped?" Scott asked.

The engineer nodded. "Sh-She never came back, a-and when I a-asked Dr. Allen, he said h-he hadn't seen her s-since the last time she and, uh, John were here t-together. But...you know, o-one of the nurses told Dr. A-Allen that Rachel h-had tried t-to take the boy for a-a walk."

"A walk?" John asked. "That's odd."

Scott and John fanned out in the room, opening drawers and searching for any clues as to what may have happened to either missing person. It was only when Scott reached the child's bed and lifted the blanket that they got their first real piece of evidence.

"Looks like the police missed something. Dad, what do you make of this?"

Jeff and John joined him at the bed while Brains craned his neck to see what they were looking at. Jeff picked something up, and the three men studied whatever it was he held in his hands.

"Mr. Tracy?"

"Brains, there are pictures here," Jeff said, walking over to him. "Burnt pictures."

"Of what?"

"Well, three of them are in such bad shape I can't tell what was in 'em. But these other two..." He held them in front of Brains so he could see them.

"A burning house?" Brains said as Jeff showed him the first one. "And a burnt-out house?" The wheels of his mind turned and turned. In only a few seconds, they clicked into place. "I don't believe it. I was right."

"About what?" Scott asked, walking 'round to the other side of the bed and perching against it.

"The boy. He's Mark Dunlop. He must be."

"Who's Mark Dunlop?" John asked.

"That name sounds familiar," Scott said, looking strangely at Brains. "And for some reason, I get the idea it has something to do with you."

Jeff laid the pictures on the bedside stand. "Brains?"

Brains spoke with confidence and concern, both of which seemed to obliterate his stutter altogether. "Mr. Tracy, do you remember our first year of operation when I came across that NTBS article about the child who'd been kidnapped from Cambridge University?"

"That's it!" Scott said, snapping his fingers. "That's where I know the name from! Mark Dunlop was the kid they said could start fires with his mind! He went to live with Dr. Chidong and was kidnapped shortly thereafter. You were gonna have Penny look into his disappearance, Dad."

"I did. She came up empty and we decided to leave it to the locals."

"He was never found," Brains said quietly.

"Wait a minute," John said, picking up the burned pictures. "You don't mean...are you trying to tell me that the kid you rescued from the apartment building on Long Island is the boy who was kidnapped five years ago from your professor friend's care?"

"It has to be! It all makes sense!" Brains replied.

"What does?" Jeff asked.

"After the fire alarm went off, I heard someone, a woman. She was here in this room. I didn't pick up much of what she said, but...I heard her say the name Mark Dunlop."

"Did you recognize the voice?" John asked. "Was it...was it Rachel?"

"I-I can't be certain, John. The alarm woke me out of a dead sleep, I wasn't too clear at the time."

"John, why are you asking if it was Rachel that Brains heard?"

Scott felt badly for his brother, who looked like he might just throw up at any minute.

"I don't know, Dad. But don't you think it's a little too coincidental that she disappears the same time as the boy?"

"It had crossed my mind," Jeff replied sympathetically. "But right now we have nothing other than these pictures for hard evidence. Let's get these to the police and leave speculation out of it for now. Okay?"

John half-smiled. "Okay."

"Brains, is there anything else you can tell us?" Scott asked.

"No. But Scott, listen to me: if that boy really is Mark Dunlop, he's the one who made those photos catch on fire. He's dangerous...in fact, he may have started the blaze in that apartment building. Whoever has him wants him for his ability. They could...make him do things. Terrible things."

Just then Jeff's watch began to beep. "This is Jeff Tracy."

"Dad, tell Scott and John to get Thunderbird 1 in the air now!"

"Alan? What's going on?"

"There's been an explosion on the ferry leading to Connecticut! Sea Rescue can't get close, it's burning too hot! Virgil and Gordon are on their way in Thunderbird 2."

"They'll never make it in time to save anyone," Jeff said. "Scott, John, get back to 1 and get out there."

"F.A.B.," the boys replied before racing out the door.

"How far away is Thunderbird 1?" Brains asked as he began to grow tired.

"Out on the top of that preserve mountain on Shelter Island," Jeff replied. "She's cloaked so no one will see her." Jeff picked up the container of pills Nurse Hernandez had left for him. He poured a cup of water before holding the pills up to Brains' mouth. "Come on. I promised your commando nurse you'd take these. Besides, you look like you could use a rest."

Brains nodded as he took the pills into his mouth. When Jeff held the cup of water to his lips, he drank greedily, successfully swallowing all the medication. "Thanks," he said. Jeff nodded as he lowered himself into a chair. "Mr. Tracy?"

"Yeah?"

"You've gotta f-find Mark, Mr. Tracy. H-He was kidnapped once f-five years a-ago. Somehow he e-escaped, only to be captured a-again. W-We can't let him d-down. We h-have to f-find him..."

"Brains, don't worry about it. We'll find him. Just get some sleep." Brains nodded, but his eyes were troubled. Jeff grabbed his fingers and squeezed them. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking his life could've been yours."

"Yes. I-I know I don't h-have a-an ability to st-start fires, b-but--"

"Your mind is your gift, Brains. It's a gift that could be used to harm the world, just like our Thunderbirds if they fell into the wrong hands."

"I-I don't want h-him to h-have to live like that...scared, like I was b-before I met y-you."

As Brains' eyelids drifted closed, Jeff came to a decision. "He won't, Brains. I'll make sure of it."

"Damn, I never thought we'd get off the blasted L.I.E.!" Scott exclaimed as he settled into his pilot's chair.

"Tell me about it. One thing that hasn't gotten better in New York is the traffic," John replied, strapping himself into a secondary seat below Scott and to his right.

"Pre-flight complete. Hang on." Scott fired Thunderbird 1's VTOL rocket and the great ship lifted into the air, de-cloaking as the engines kicked into gear. Within minutes, they'd arrived at the site of the ferry fire. "Good God," Scott breathed. "How can anyone have survived that?"

"I'll get the raft ready."

"F.A.B."

John didn't bother with a wetsuit, he just strapped an oxygen tank and mask on and hauled Thunderbird 1's rescue raft to the hatch. He fastened a tether to both ends, then pressed a button and the hatch door slid open. "Okay, Scott, I'm ready to go. Dropping raft now."

The raft fell to the waters of Long Island Sound. Upon impact, it immediately inflated. John grabbed the tether and tugged at it to make sure it was securely attached to the hook just inside the hatch. "Bombs away, Scott."

Scott watched through his portside viewing window as John fell through the air, landing dead center in the raft. John unhooked the oars and started rowing closer to the fire. But the heat was fantastic, there's no way the rubber raft...or John, for that matter...would be able to withstand it.

"Scott, I've gotta get in the water."

"F.A.B. Careful, Johnny."

"You got it," John replied as he dove into the waters of the Sound. He could tell he was getting closer to the boat not only because the fire looked like a huge flickering light above-surface, but because he started running into dead bodies. "Jesus," he breathed.

"What is it, John?"

"People," John replied. "Dead people."

"Do you see any signs of life at all?"

"Not so far. I'm gonna head to the other side of the ferry."

"All right."

John swam hard and fast, passing beneath the ferry, passing bits of debris that used to be part of it, passing bits of automobiles that had been carried on it...and passing more victims who'd had no chance at all. When he reached the opposite side of the craft, he thought at first his eyes were playing tricks on him. For he could've sworn he saw something move.

"Scott! I may have a live one here!" he yelled as he drew closer to the spot his eyes had fixed on. "Yes, I think...yes! It's legs! Someone's kicking their legs!"

"Good job, John. Get 'em back to the raft!"

"F.A.B.!" John swam up to the legs and surfaced right next to them. As he went to wrap his arms around the survivor, he gasped, "My God!"

"John? What? What is it?"

"Scott, it's...the boy! It's Mark!"

"What?"

"Hang on, I've gotta get him to the raft."

"Thunderbird 1 calling Jeff Tracy."

"I'm here, Scott. How's the rescue going?"

"Dad, John found Mark Dunlop down there!"

"What? Is he alive?"

"Yes! He's taking him back to the raft now!"

"My God. I guess that would explain the fire."

"Yeah, I guess...hang on, Dad, John's comin' through again. Go ahead, John."

"Scott...it's...it's Rachel."

Scott's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. "Rachel? You found her?"

"Yeah. Hang on a minute."

"Dad, he found Rachel."

"Oh, God. Is she...?"

"I don't know yet. John? John, come back."

"Still here, Scott. I just got Mark into the raft. I'm headed for Rachel, she's not too far away. She doesn't look...she doesn't..."

"It's okay, John, just get her in the raft. Get her in."

John nodded, even though he knew his brother couldn't see him. When he reached Rachel's side, a Sea Rescue boat pulled up next to them. The fire had died down enough for them to be able to come in and give International Rescue a hand. John ignored the boat and lifted Rachel's head onto his shoulder, then began back-paddling to the raft. Within minutes, he'd lifted her up over the side. Then he hoisted himself into it and said, "Okay, Scott, bring us up."

Scott didn't like the tone of his brother's voice, and feared the worst. He told his father as much as he started the winch that would haul the raft back up to Thunderbird 1. "Hold him together, Scott. If Rachel didn't survive..."

"I know, Dad. We'll be with you in a few."

"F.A.B."

Before long the raft and its three occupants were on board. Scott fired up his 'bird and headed for the island of Manhattan. John had said nothing to him but, "Go!" He had no idea what was going on in his ship's midsection, and he didn't have time to find out. Whatever it was, he sincerely hoped Rachel would survive. If for no other reason than to spare his brother's heart.

"Virgil, Gordon, you two can head back to Base. Scott said Sea Rescue's on the scene. Looks like you won't be needed."

"F.A.B. Turning back now. Any news on survivors?"

"Yes. John found the boy Brains rescued. And...he found Rachel, too."

"Alive?"

"Don't know yet. I'll keep you posted. Jeff out."

He could only hope Rachel hadn't perished. He had personally lived through losing the woman that he loved. And he knew John loved Rachel. Virgil had told him as much. Jeff didn't want his son to go through what he had. He'd give anything to keep that from happening.

Then there was young Mark. Jeff had looked him up on the internet and sure enough, the picture of the five-year old boy who'd been kidnapped told him the ten-year old Brains had rescued was indeed Mark Dunlop. Jeff was relieved they'd found him. He had made a promise to Brains. A promise he intended to keep. In fact, he'd already set the wheels in motion. There was no way he'd let that young man come to harm no matter what it took. Once Jeff Tracy set his mind to something, he always saw it through.

And he always succeeded.

November 10, 2031

It was 2 a.m., and no one seated in Brains' and Mark's room had gotten any sleep since Rachel and Mark had been brought back to the hospital the day before. Not even Brains, who had only pretended to take his pain medication, spitting the pills down into the front of his hospital gown as soon as no one was looking. Mark had been taken while he was sleeping. There was no way he was going to let that happen again.

The boy was unharmed. He'd swallowed a bit of sea water, but was otherwise none the worse for wear. Rachel had survived, but only after an extraordinary effort by Emergency Room personnel. She was now clinging to life in Intensive Care, hooked up to a variety of machines and monitors. She wasn't allowed visitors, so John spent his time with the others in Brains' room. He'd barely spoken a word since finding out the doctors had saved her life.

Within his mind and heart, he was wrestling with thoughts and feelings he just wasn't ready to confront. For one, when he'd found her seemingly lifeless body in the water, grief had welled up in him stronger than anything he'd ever before experienced. And for another, he was grappling with what the evidence seemed to state: that Rachel had been the one to take Mark from the hospital. Who was she, really? And why had she kidnapped the boy?

Unless Rachel woke up, John and the others would never know.

The Hood watched the pictures in the mirror. He recognized Jeff Tracy immediately, and assumed the blonde and dark-haired young men to be his sons. It was all finally starting to come together in terms of his plot to infiltrate International Rescue.

However, the attempted kidnapping of his boy the day before had angered Belah to no end. He'd ordered the child to cause an explosion, but first to ensure he himself would be out of harm's way when the ferry went up in flames. Obviously the child had done so, and International Rescue themselves had saved him from the water...and being that the one who'd saved him and taken him aboard Thunderbird 1 was now one of the men sitting in the boy's hospital room...well, Belah knew he'd hit pay dirt.

Now all he had to do was make certain the fools took the boy back to their Base with them. Belah chuckled as he looked at a fax he'd received earlier in the day. Across the top it said, Petition for Temporary Legal Custody.

"Do not worry, Jefferson Tracy. Your petition shall be granted. And then, so will my fondest wish. Your demise!"

November 11, 2031

Dr. Allen walked silently into what was supposed to be an ordinary double-occupancy hospital room, but had somehow been turned into what looked like a slumber party, albeit for grown men instead of little girls. He scanned the forms slumped and sprawled in chairs until his eyes rested on the man with blonde hair. Crossing to his position, he shook him lightly.

John jolted awake and rose to his feet as Dr. Allen motioned for them to leave the room. When they reached the hall, the door hadn't even closed behind them before John was asking what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, Mr. Tracy. Your friend Miss Long has regained consciousness and is asking to speak with you."

"Is she going to be okay?" John asked, fighting the swell of emotion that surged within him.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, I believe she will be, but...I must warn you before you see her that you might be taken aback by her appearance."

"Oh, I've seen people in I.C.U. before, Doctor. I know about the machines and tubes."

"It's not that," Dr. Allen replied gravely. "Miss Long was burned very badly. Her entire face, chest, abdomen and both arms are swathed in bandages to protect where her flesh was burned away."

Tears stung the back of John's eyes as his jaw silently worked. Finally he nodded. "Take me to see her."

The boy opened his eyes and sat up in bed. He looked around the room and noted that the one called John, who had pulled him from the water, was missing. Other than that, he recognized the others, whom he now knew by name. There was the one called Scott and the one Scott called either 'Dad' or 'Father'. This man was also called 'Mr. Tracy' by the one who had saved him from the burning building, the one whose words were sometimes broken.

But the one name he didn't know was his own. He'd heard the men around him referring to him as 'Mark', and the woman called Rachel had done the same. But he didn't remember that name, could not associate himself with it. For so long had he been with his master, for so long had he undergone mental training and brainwashing, he only knew himself as his master called him: Boy. He had been taught, at the hands of a merciless tyrant, to never speak. When he had called for help in the building, it had been the first words he'd uttered in nearly five years.

But then Rachel had showed him those pictures. He had recognized the man and woman, but could not remember how. He only knew that they evoked feelings of sadness and loss. Of longing. He recognized the burning house, but again, did not know from where. But the scene of the large building, and of the small boy...of him...playing in a room...those sparked a memory which had made him angry. And he had started the pictures on fire, something his master later punished him for through his mind as he and Rachel had fled to the hospital's parking garage.

That had led to both of them being taken aboard the large boat carrying many cars and people. And as his master continued to punish him, he forced him to start another fire on that boat. One which he knew had caused many deaths. He wondered if Rachel was still alive and felt sadness. She had been very kind to him since her arrival, sitting at his bedside and speaking softly to him for many hours.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he crossed to where Brains lay awake in his bed. For the first time in five years, he had met people who seemed to genuinely care about him, who had saved his life twice. People his master wanted to hurt. He didn't want to hurt them. They were good, kind, trustworthy. His master showed him only pain and suffering.

"Mark?" Brains said as he noticed the unshed tears. "What is it? Are you in pain?" The boy could only nod before the tears spilled over onto his cheeks in a torrent. Brains watched as he climbed into bed and curled up next to him. Silently his body shook as he sobbed into the blankets. Unable to offer comfort with either of his injured arms, Brains leaned into the boy and laid his cheek upon his head. "My God, what did they do to you?" he whispered. "What did they do to you?"

Dr. Allen led John to the private I.C.U. room where Rachel lay behind its closed door. "I would recommend you not react to what you see, at least not outwardly. Her healing process is going to be long and hard, physically. It's hard to tell how she'll be affected by this mentally and emotionally." John nodded as he opened the door. Walking into the room, he stood silently as the door clicked softly shut behind him.

Rachel was a mess.

He could see tufts of her auburn hair sticking up from under the bandages swathing her face. Her entire torso and both arms were wrapped mummy-like in white strips of cloth. A blanket covered her legs, and there were at least five different IV lines running from her body to various bags above her head. The life sign monitor on the wall above the bed showed her vitals were weak, but steady.

He heard her moan softly and stepped forward, grasping the only skin he could see: the four fingers of her left hand from the middle knuckles to the tips. She turned her head slightly and he could just barely make out her eyes beneath the bandages. "Rachel," he whispered.

"John," she croaked, her voice barely recognizable as the one he knew so well. "Must...tell you...in case...I die..."

"You won't die, Rachel. The doctor says you'll be okay."

She closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again. "No. Must...tell...you...the truth."

John nodded and pulled a chair over. Taking her hand again, he listened as she arduously wove a tale of intrigue and mystery, of supernatural abilities and betrayal. By the time she'd finished, Rachel was exhausted, and fell asleep. John wasn't sure how to feel after what she'd said, but he knew he had to tell his father.

But how could he tell his dad that his libido had very nearly cost them International Rescue's secrecy?

Scott awoke, groaning as his muscles protested the awkward position they'd been molded into as he slept. Noticing John and Mark weren't where they should be, he stood and stretched, turning to face Brains' bed. He wasn't surprised to see the engineer awake. He was surprised, however, to see the young boy nestled into Brains' body, his cheek resting on the boy's head. He walked over to the other side of the bed and asked, "Brains? What's going on?"

"I don't know, Scott," Brains whispered in reply. "He just climbed into bed with me and cried for about an hour before he fell asleep."

"Did he say anything?"

"No. But I asked him if he was in pain, and he nodded."

"Maybe we ought to have the doctor take a look at him."

"Maybe."

They were interrupted by Jeff, who'd just awakened, coming to join them. "What's all this?" Before either Scott or Brains could reply, John entered the room looking sullen and disturbed. Jeff turned to face him. "John?"

"I just talked to Rachel."

"She's awake?"

"Yeah, Scott. At least, she was."

Jeff shared a look with Scott, then approached his middle son. "What's wrong, John?"

"Dad, Scott, I think you should sit down. I have a story to tell you."

The men grabbed their chairs and pulled them over near Brains' bed as John did the same. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and a puff of air escaped his lips. "Rachel isn't exactly who she seems to be."

Jeff frowned as he recalled the gap in Rachel's known whereabouts Penny had related to him. "How so?"

"Well, she is the SRUS for New Zealand. But she's also an agent for the European Secret Service."

Scott whistled long and low. "Oh, man."

Jeff opened his mouth, but John silenced him with a raised hand. "Don't worry, Father, I haven't compromised International Rescue."

"That's not what I was going to say, John."

"I could have, though. I was so blinded by her!" he seethed, rising to his feet. He began to pace as his father, brother and friend watched him work through things in his mind. "She was betraying me the whole time. Using me to get at that boy!"

"Mark?" Brains asked, lifting his face from the boy's head. "What's she got to do with him?"

John continued to pace as he spoke. "Rachel's been with the ESS for over four years. She got her appointment as SRUS for New Zealand as a result of a top-secret case she was working on at the time. When that case ended, the ESS decided to keep her in Auckland as their eyes and ears there. When we met, she was already involved in a top priority, highly classified case that had been going on since before she even became an agent. The case involved the British government trying to locate Mark, which they'd been unsuccessful at all these years."

"And then we rescued him," Scott said, realization dawning.

"Exactly. Because of her association with me, she just fell into being right here where the boy is. She was almost certain he was Mark Dunlop, but the ESS insisted she be absolutely positive before turning him over to them. That's why those burnt pictures were in his bed. She showed them to him, and he started them on fire."

"She saw this?" Brains asked.

John nodded. "Yes. It happened right in front of her. She contacted ESS and they instructed her to take Mark down to the parking garage, where agents would be waiting to transport him back to England."

"I don't get it," Scott interjected. "I understand the boy has some sort of ability to start fires with his mind, but why is the British government so hell-bent on having him back?"

"I get it," Jeff replied as John finally stopped pacing. "And I don't like it at all. I don't think their intentions are very pure."

"I don't either," Brains added, a frown creasing his brow. "We have to protect him, Mr. Tracy. We must."

"Oh, we will, Brains, make no mistake. Go ahead, John. Did she tell you what happened after she took him down to the parking garage?"

Annoyingly enough, John began pacing again.

"She's not really sure what happened. They got to the level where they were supposed to meet the agents when something went wrong. Instead of just taking the boy, they grabbed both him and Rachel and shoved them into the back of a van. She was knocked out, and woke up just as they reached the ferry. There were three of them, and they escorted her and Mark onto the boat. They were standing right near the engine when suddenly Mark started to sweat and shake. Rachel remembers a violent explosion, and then nothing until she woke up in I.C.U."

Just then, Mark began to stir. He raised his sleepy head and looked silently into Brains' eyes for a moment before turning to see everyone else. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, and he rubbed at them. Jeff reached out and grabbed a tissue, then held it out. Mark looked strangely at him, his one good hand slowly moving closer to Jeff's until he snatched the tissue and yanked it back into his body.

Jeff looked sadly at the boy, who laid back down into Brains' body. "I have to go check on something. John, Scott, you are not to leave this room under any circumstances. I'll brief the local PD and be back here in an hour. Scott, get on with Penelope and brief her. My suspicion is that the men who kidnapped Rachel and Mark are not acting entirely on behalf of the ESS."

"Yes, Sir," Scott replied as he moved to the other side of the room.

John leaned slumped against the wall by the door. Jeff stopped as he passed and laid a hand on his shoulder. John just shook his head. "She's with the ESS. She used me. I could've blown the whole thing."

"But you didn't. And there might be more to this than we know. Right now, both Mark and Rachel are in danger. Your job is to keep Mark safe. I'll see to it Rachel has protection."

John half-smiled as he nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

Jeff squeezed his shoulder and left.

Jeff strode through the hotel lobby and up to the front desk. "Jeff Tracy. My key?"

"Oh, yes, Sir, Mr. Tracy," the attendant nodded as he grabbed a key card and placed it on the counter. "Right here."

"Thank you," Jeff nodded as he grabbed the key and turned to walk away.

"Oh, wait a minute, Mr. Tracy! You have something else here. A fax that came through for you."

Jeff turned and retrieved the six-page document from the attendant. "Thank you."

He pressed the button to call the elevator and glanced at the front page of the document. Across the top it said, Petition for Temporary Legal Custody. Just beneath that, it was stamped Approved.

"How can that be?" he whispered as he boarded the lift. "They haven't even interviewed us."

Instantly he knew something was afoot. He wasn't an expert on the legalities of gaining legal custody of a minor by any means, but when he'd filled out the petition with local authorities, they'd told him there would be a long process consisting of interviews with Jeff and everyone in his household, plus what might turn out to be several visits to his home. He'd only just sent the petition in the morning before. How could it have been approved already when none of those things had happened? And why?

A man dressed in a white lab coat stepped into the I.C.U. room. The only sounds were beeps and blips from various machinery hooked up to the woman lying in the room's single bed. He stole up to the patient, removed a pillow from beneath her head and placed it over her face.

Her arms and legs twitched for only seconds before she went limp. Nodding in satisfaction, the man put the pillow back under her head and swiftly exited the room.

"Thanks, Penny. Let me know as soon as you come up with anything."

"I will, Scott. Give my best to everyone."

"F.A.B. Scott out." He lowered his arm and turned to watch his younger brother, who was still slumped against the wall. This was one of the most difficult things to deal with in the secretive life he and his brothers led: relationships outside their immediate circle. The fact that Rachel worked for the New Zealand government could've been a bit troublesome for them in and of itself. But the fact that she was an ESS agent, and that John was so obviously in love with her in spite of recent events, was something they all dreaded having to face.

He approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder, much as their father had. "Penny's doing some digging, John."

"I want her to be innocent," John said, avoiding Scott's eyes. "I want Penny to find somehow she was coerced into spying on me."

"I know, Johnny. I know. And maybe she will."

Finally he met his brother's eyes. "But what if she doesn't?"

Scott opened his mouth to reply, when a flurry of activity outside the door caught his attention. Frowning, he opened it and stepped out into the hall, John right behind him. The announcement they heard over the hospital intercom made both their hearts stop.

Code blue, I.C.U. 8. Medical Team Alpha respond, stat!

"Rachel," John breathed, pushing past Scott and racing down the hall.

"John!" Scott cried. But he couldn't follow him and he knew it. That would leave Brains and Mark completely unguarded. "Dammit!"

"Scott!" Brains called. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. There's a Code Blue in I.C.U. John just took off," Scott replied as he walked over to the bed.

"You don't think--" Brains began, but stopped as Mark sat up next to him.

"I don't know. God, I hope not." To take their minds off the possibilities, and to keep from upsetting the boy, Scott leaned forward and asked him, "Are you hungry?" To their surprise, he nodded. Brains and Scott grinned. "Okay, then. Guess I'll see about getting you something to eat!" Scott moved to the call button as Mark turned to look at Brains.

"My name is Brains," the engineer said as he caught the boy's eyes. "What's your name?"

His mouth opened, but no sound emerged.

"It's okay. You don't have to be afraid of us. We're going to keep you safe. Tell me your name."

"Boy."

Brains frowned. Boy? Who on Earth would call a child that? "No. That's not your name. Your name is Mark. Mark Dunlop. Do you remember that?"

He shook his head in confusion. The engineer bit his lip. "Can you say 'Mark'?"

"Mark."

"Right. That's you. You're Mark. I'm Brains."

"Brains."

He smiled. "Yes. And that's Scott," he continued, nodding to where Scott was just returning.

"Hi, Mark."

"Scott."

"Right on! The nurse is going to bring you some food. Okay?"

Mark nodded. "Brains?"

"Yes?"

"M-Master."

Scott and Brains frowned and exchanged a glance. "Master?"

He nodded. "Want you. Not Master." With that, he wrapped his good arm around Brains. The engineer winced as he squeezed his ribs. He and Scott looked silently at one another, wondering who 'Master' was. Scott just shook his head. He could only hope his father's petition for custody went through. Without that, there was no guarantee this child would ever be safe again.

"I shall not punish you for that, Boy," Belah growled as he watched through the mirror from a motel suite in New York. "But only because it will, in the end, get me what I want." He turned as one of his aides entered his presence and bowed. "Report!"

"The ESS are preparing to take the boy from the hospital by force, Sir. Jeff Tracy is in receipt of the approved custody paperwork, and your car is waiting."

"Very well. Take me to the hospital immediately."

He turned and looked at himself in the mirror. His true visage was hidden with a mask, his bald pate covered by dark brown hair. Beneath his overcoat he wore a hospital nurse's uniform, complete with stethoscope and security tag. Grinning at his young, almost boyish look, Belah walked to the door and entered the hall, the aide right behind him. They got into the elevator, which stopped on the floor just below theirs, another which housed a total of four suites.

No one was more surprised than Belah when Jeff Tracy himself entered the lift.

Jeff nodded in his direction, then turned to face the doors as they slid shut. Belah's mouth quirked into a grin as his aide looked down at the floor. I could so easily kill you where you stand.

But I won't. Because you yourself, Jefferson Tracy, are going to lead me to your base. You and that boy.

When they reached the ground floor, Jeff exited the elevator and walked quickly across the lobby and out the front doors. Belah stepped out and laughed as he watched Jeff's retreating back. "See you soon."

"Rachel!" John cried as he tried to get past the doctors and nurses crowding into her room. "Rachel!"

Dr. Allen ran up and pushed John back against the wall. "If you want us to be able to help her, stay out of the way!" he ordered before disappearing into the room.

John seethed as they pulled a curtain across the room so he couldn't see what they were doing. "Dammit!" he yelled as he slammed his fist into the wall. "Come on, Rachel, you can make it. Come on. You've got to!" He paced up and down the hall for what seemed like hours. But only twenty minutes passed until the door to Room 8 opened. John watched as four nurses and a doctor filed out of the room. The looks on their faces told him everything he needed to know.

A sob stuck in his throat as he fell back into the wall. He didn't even realize Dr. Allen had approached him until the older man spoke. "Mr. Tracy, I'm very sorry. She...she didn't make it. There was nothing we could do."

John just shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened. "What happened?" he managed to choke out.

"I'm not exactly sure. It appears she just stopped breathing."

John looked toward the door. "Let me see her. Please."

Allen nodded. "I'll notify her mother at the number you gave me."

John pushed off the wall as the doctor walked away. Rubbing a weary hand across his face, he slowly walked up to the door and opened it. He crossed the floor and stood looking at the immobile form on the bed. He sniffled and reach a hand out to touch a tuft of her hair. "God, Rachel, I..."

She was gone. He'd known her for only six short months. Six months in which he'd physically spent only three with her. Before all this had happened, he'd been convinced she was the one meant for him, that he would be the first of his brothers to approach his father about wanting to get married and start his own family.

He knew that meant he'd probably leave International Rescue in his current capacity as space monitor and pilot. But he'd already planned the whole thing out in his head: he and Rachel would settle in New York, where he would run Tracy Corporation, and help International Rescue out from that end. He knew that's what his father had wanted anyway, for him to take ownership of the family's vast business conglomerate. He just figured he'd speed things up a little, and take control now instead of later, when his father got too old to do it alone.

He loved her. And even after what she'd told him about being with the ESS and using their relationship to get close to Mark, he still loved her. He'd told her that earlier after she'd fallen asleep on him.

"Did you hear what I said to you?" he whispered as he pulled a chair over and sank into it. "Did you hear me tell you how much I love you?"

Grief welled up inside him and this time he couldn't control the emotions. She was gone. She would never again smile at him or laugh with him. He would never hear her beautiful accent make fun of his American slang. He would never see her lying beneath him in bed, her face twisted in pleasure as he moved inside her. "Rachel," he choked as he lowered his forehead to her chest. His body heaved as silently he let the tears flow.

"Doctor?" Scott said as Dr. Allen strode into the room.

"I just thought you should know that Miss Long didn't make it."

"Oh, God," Scott whispered. "Where's John?"

"He's with her now."

"I have to go to him." Scott turned and looked at Brains lying helplessly in his bed. "But..."

"It's okay, uh, Scott. We'll be okay."

Scott grappled with an impossible situation. John needed him. But if he left Brains and Mark...

"Dr. Allen, where are the officers my dad arranged to guard Rachel?"

"I believe they were at the nurse's station last I saw. They just arrived."

"I want them posted outside this door. No one but me, my brother or my father are allowed into this room. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. I'll get them right away," he replied, leaving the room.

"You don't think she died o-of natural causes, do you, uh, Scott?"

"No, Brains. I don't. And if I'm right, Mark is in even more danger than we thought."

Jeff happened to run into Dr. Allen at the nurse's station. He looked up and saw the two police officers outside Brains' hospital room. "What's going on?"

His face fell as the doctor explained what had happened. "Your son Scott just went to I.C.U."

"Thank you." Jeff went to the two officers. "You are to let no one in here but authorized medical personnel. No one."

"Yes, Sir," they answered, straightening their postures.

Jeff turned back to the doctor. "I want Mr. Hackenbacker and Mark prepared for transport."

"Transport? Mr. Hackenbacker is in no condition to be going anywhere, Mr. Tracy!"

"We have a hospital ward in our complex. He will be very well taken care of and have everything he could possibly medically need."

Dr. Allen sighed. "Well, if Mr. Hackenbacker wants to sign himself out, there's nothing I can do about it. But I am putting in his records that I strongly object."

"So noted. Have them ready to leave in thirty minutes."

"Wait, you can't take the boy. He doesn't belong to you."

Jeff produced a sheaf of papers from his back pocket and shoved them at the doctor. "This says he does."

Virgil looked askance at his brother as he leveled Thunderbird 2 out at forty thousand feet. "That's too bad about Rachel. I wonder how John's doing."

"Well, Dad said he was still with her. I can't imagine."

"What is it about this boy? There seems to be death and destruction no matter where he is."

"What worries me is that you're right, and Dad's having us bring him home."

"I guess he feels it's the only way to really keep Mark safe."

"Let's just hope he isn't the one we need protection from."

Virgil frowned, but shared Gordon's sentiments. They knew nothing about where the child had been for the last five years, and didn't know much at all about why the ESS was so bent on getting him back. Now John's girlfriend was dead and their father had apparently been granted legal custody of this boy Mark within 24 hours' time, another mystery that wasn't sitting too well with any of them.

But Virgil knew, as did the rest of the family, that if their father had one weak spot, it was children. The one time their nephew Brandon, son of Lucille's younger sister Emily had visited them on the island, Jeff had come alive before their very eyes, spending almost every moment with the six-year old. This boy Mark had been through something terrible, and had, according to Jeff, grown very attached to Brains. And he was in danger.

Who better to keep him safe than International Rescue?

A young dark-haired nurse approached the two police officers guarding the door of Brains' room. "Gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I must see to it that the patient receives his medication."

"Sorry, we can't let anyone in."

The man checked his clipboard. "Well, I can't leave until I give him his meds and prepare him for transport. Look, here's the order right here." The nurse showed the clipboard to the first officer, who then handed it to the second.

"It does say he's supposed to be prepared to leave," the second officer said. "All right. But one of us is going in with you."

"Very well."

The nurse and the first officer entered the room. Brains took the pills into his mouth and drank some water, then spit the medication down the front of his hospital gown when no one was looking.

"These will keep you comfortable for your journey."

"Journey?" Brains repeated.

"Yes. It seems you will be leaving the hospital soon. You and the boy over there."

The nurse walked over to where Mark slept soundly in his bed, tucked beneath several blankets. He straightened the bed clothes and returned to Brains' side. "Now I shall be moving things around a bit. Pay me no mind."

You and the boy over there.

The boy. Boy. What Mark had said his name was. Brains looked up at the nurse and frowned. He looked like any nurse, and knew exactly what he was doing as he prepared the IV bags for transport and worked at disconnecting the life sign devices.

Must just be a coincidence.

Scott's heart broke as he stood in the doorway of Rachel's room. John's head was lying on her chest, his eyes closed, his cheeks stained with tear tracks. He walked over and placed a hand on his brother's back. "Johnny?"

John sat up and wiped his face on his sleeve. He took a few deep breaths and just stared at her unmoving form. "She's gone, Scott."

"I know, Johnny. I know. Come on, we have to leave. We're taking Brains and Mark home."

"Home?"

Scott nodded. "Mark is in serious danger, John. Dad got temporary custody of him."

"Already?"

"Yeah."

John rose to his full height and looked down at Rachel one last time as Scott headed for the door. "Goodbye, Rachel," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, John," Scott said as they entered the hall. But John only nodded as they walked shoulder-to-shoulder toward the other end of the floor. "You gonna be okay?"

John shrugged.

They were met halfway down the long corridor by their father. "Dr. Allen told me what happened. I'm sorry, son."

"Thanks, Dad. Let's just get Brains and Mark home, okay?"

Jeff recognized that John wasn't anywhere near wanting to talk about Rachel's death, so he just nodded and turned on heel as they continued on their way. "They're readying them for transport now. Virgil and Gordon are on their way in Thunderbird 2. We'll take a special van I've organized from the hospital to Shelter Island, where they'll be waiting for us."

They were startled by the sound of a gunshot echoing through the hall. All three men broke into full-out sprints and rounded the corner to see one police officer lying dead outside Brains' door.

"Shit!" Scott yelled as nurses and orderlies scrambled through the hall. He reached down and picked up the dead policeman's gun from the floor and peeked through the door. He saw what looked like a nurse struggling with a man in a black suit near Brains' bed. He kicked the door open and leveled the gun at a second black-suited man to his right, who held Mark in his arms. Brains, who looked like he'd been cold-cocked, was unconscious in his bed, a trickle of blood escaping a large gash on his temple.

"Hold it right there," Scott menaced.

The nurse took the opportunity to karate chop the back of his assailant's neck, and the man fell to the floor. The other suited man swung Mark around so he was holding him under one arm, and grabbed his own gun from his holster. "Don't interfere," he said as John and Jeff moved to stand just behind Scott. The nurse stepped forward and the man swung the gun around in his direction. "Don't move!"

John bolted toward them and grabbed Mark under his armpits, yanking him from the man's grasp. He yelped and turned the gun on John, but the nurse leapt up onto the bed and caught him in a chokehold, the gun clattering through the bed's bars and onto the floor. "Go!" the nurse yelled. "Get them out of here!"

Jeff raced to Brains' bed, turned off the brakes and wheeled it towards the door as Scott and John backed into the hall. He turned and watched as the nurse struggled to maintain his hold.

"Go, Tracy!" he said. "I can handle him."

More than a little confounded by the nurse, Jeff didn't take the time to think about it. All he knew was that he'd been right. The ESS had sent more goons in to try and kidnap Mark. And they'd almost succeeded. Time was now of the essence. "Thank you," he said, before wheeling Brains out the door.

The nurse jerked the muscles in his arm, effectively snapping the black-suited man's neck. He let him fall to the floor and laughed as he stood up and straightened his uniform. "Now, Jeff Tracy," he said as he looked out the door's small window, "Let's find out where that base of yours is. Shall we?"

Thunderbird 2 had been airborne for twenty minutes. Virgil piloted, with Scott and Gordon sitting in the passenger seats behind him. The three of them discussed the situation while back in 2's medical bay, Jeff and John tended to Brains and Mark. John had sealed the gash on Brains' temple with syntheskin, working silently alongside his father as Jeff had made the boy comfortable in a second bunk atop that of Brains'.

"You don't think Rachel died because of the injuries from the ferry explosion, do you, Dad?"

Surprised, Jeff just shook his head.

"I didn't think so. That's why you wanted Mark out of there so quickly. They killed her. Didn't they."

It wasn't a question.

"I can't be sure, son. All I know is that ever since Brains saved this boy's life, there's been nothing but trouble."

"Scott said you got temporary legal custody."

"Yes."

"How'd you get it so fast?"

"That's what I mean by trouble. I contacted the office where I'd filed the paperwork. The woman I spoke to said they'd approved it because I'm Jeff Tracy."

John snorted. "That's a load of horse shit."

"I know."

Jeff turned to where Mark laid quietly in his bunk, and tucked the blanket in around him. He was shocked when the child reached over and grabbed his neck in a fierce hug. "Brains."

Jeff wrapped an arm around the boy. "Brains will be fine. We'll have you home soon. Don't worry. Okay?"

The boy nodded and settled into the pillow. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Tiger. Now get some sleep."

Mark closed his eyes and Jeff turned to where John had folded out a jump seat and sat down. As he seated himself next to him, he was so focused on his son that he didn't see Mark's eyes pop open. Didn't see his body stiffen. Didn't see the lone tear escape his eye.

"How are you handling things, John?"

John shrugged. "I don't know what to make of everything. I'll never know what was really going on, Dad. Not with Rachel gone."

"When your mother died, it was like a giant slap in the face. Like the Universe was punishing me for having a happy life."

He turned to face his father.

"I had hoped you boys could each have happy lives with someone you loved, eventually. You all deserve that much and so much more." Jeff raised his eyes to those of his son. "You were really serious about her."

He nodded. "Yeah. In fact, I was going to talk to you about that before my next round on 5." John's face crumpled as he fought the grief that threatened to overwhelm him again. "I just can't believe I'll never see her again. That I'll never know."

Jeff grasped the back of his son's neck in his hand and looked right into his eyes. "I know how you're feeling. When things settle down at home, I'll be there if you need to talk."

"Right now I just don't want to think about it."

Rising to his feet, Jeff released his grip and nodded. "I'm heading for the cockpit. Can you keep an eye on them?"

"Sure thing." Jeff began walking away. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, son."

John turned to look at Brains, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept on. He took a deep breath and sighed it out, leaning back against the bulkhead. "Shit," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Mark's body jerked once, then went limp.

With Jeff's mother Ruth, and Kyrano's daughter Tin-Tin around, Mark was most certainly the most fussed over boy on the planet. Tin-Tin helped him bathe while Ruth had Scott rummage through his closets to find something the boy could wear. Kyrano stayed in the hospital ward with Brains, who had still not regained consciousness. The rest of the family later gathered in the conference room to talk to Penny about her latest findings. She'd just begun to speak when Ruth called softly, "Jeff."

They all turned toward the door to find her standing there with Mark's hand in hers. He wore a blue pair of Scott's shorts, the string wound around his waist and well-tied to keep them from falling down. The smallest tee shirt Scott could find, an old, faded blue one that had the words Air Force emblazoned across the chest, hung loosely from the boy's frame.

"Well, looks like somebody's all cleaned up," Scott said as he rose to his feet and walked over to the child. He got down on one knee and ruffled Mark's damp hair. "You sure make those clothes look a lot better than I do."

For the first time any of them had ever seen, Mark smiled.

Scott continued talking to him as Ruth moved across the room to where her son sat behind a table. "Jeff, it's amazing."

"What is, Mother?"

"He looks a lot like you did when you were a boy. Especially his eyes."

Jeff looked across the room to where Scott seemed to be teaching the youngster how to properly shake hands. They all smiled when the boy actually laughed out loud at Scott's antics.

"Yes, I suppose he does remind me of me in some ways. Mother, we really need to get down to business. Would you mind watching him for me?"

"Not at all, Jeff. In fact, he's been talking of nothing but wanting to see Brains. Think it's all right if we take a peek in on him?"

"Don't see why not."

Ruth went over and watched for a few more seconds as Scott did everything he could to make the kid laugh: from making funny faces to poking at his ribs to tickle him, his efforts met with much success. Then she took the boy's hand and said, "Would you like to see Brains now?"

Mark nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin revealing two missing teeth on top.

"Catch you later," Scott said, sticking his hand out.

Mark reached out and grabbed it, jerking it up and down more than actually shaking it. Scott chuckled as his grandmother led the child from the room, then returned to his seat between Virgil and John.

"Sure looks like he's loosening up," Gordon commented.

"He's a lovely child," Penny added from the video monitor on the table.

"Yes," Jeff said, his stern voice commanding immediate attention. "But a child who is very much at risk. Penelope, what did you find out?"

"Well, Jeff, it looks like what Rachel said checks out," she replied, casting an uncomfortable glance at John, whose face remained impassive. "My contact within ESS confirms her identity as an agent, as well as the case she was working on involving Mark Dunlop. He said the ESS is only being used, however, by someone of great power known only to those on his level as Puppet Master."

"Puppet Master? What the hell kind of name is that?" Alan asked from a second video monitor on the table.

"I've no idea, Alan. My contact doesn't know very much more than that except that from time to time, this Puppet Master calls on the ESS to do certain things for him. Or her, as the case may be. Apparently the British government itself is not involved at all, and indeed knows very little about what the ESS really does."

"A shadow in control of even more shadows," Jeff commented.

"Very much so, Jeff. Parker is following a lead my contact was able to give me, however. For the first time there was actual face-to-face contact made with Puppet Master, by the man who runs ESS, known only as Agent M. Unfortunately, Agent M has not been seen or heard from since that meeting over a week ago. Parker's got the location, and is going to see if he can find any clues."

"All right, boys, here's the situation," Jeff said, turning toward his sons. "Right now we have no idea who this Puppet Master is, nor why he or she wants to get their hands on Mark. We can only assume it's because of this special ability he has to start fires with his mind. He should be safe here, but you need to keep your eyes and ears open in the field. Take nothing for granted. Never assume a member of the crowd is just a casual observer to your rescue. Everyone at that hospital knows the Tracys were involved with the boy International Rescue saved from that burning building. It is more imperative now than ever before no one figures out that the Tracys and International Rescue are one and the same."

Murmurs and nods of assent came from each of them.

"All right, now, we need to get back to our daily routine. We've got plenty of work to do around here, so get to it. I'm going to head down to the ward and see how Brains is getting along."

Penny and Alan's feeds winked out as the rest of them left the room. Jeff rose to his feet just as Penny's face blinked back into existence on the monitor. "Jeff!" she called out.

"What is it, Penny?"

"Parker's just found something very disturbing. Shall I have him feed it through to the other monitor?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

Jeff watched as a picture appeared on the other monitor. It was Parker holding something in his hand, but Jeff couldn't quite make out the object. "What is that, Parker?"

Penelope's butler stepped forward and held it out with two hands.

What Jeff saw made his blood run cold. "Where did you find that?"

"Right 'ere h'at the location where H'Agent M's mee'ing took place, Sir. I fear the h'agent 'imself h'is dead."

Penelope and Jeff's faces looked grave as they caught one another's eyes. They gave voice to their worst fears in unison. "The Hood."

Jeff nearly ran all the way to the hospital ward. He puffed through the door, startling Ruth and Kyrano.

"Good heavens, Jeff, what is it?"

"It's the worst thing, Mother. The worst." Jeff looked over and noticed that Brains was awake, and sitting fully upright, with Mark on the bed next to him. "Has he exhibited any strange behavior since you've been down here?"

"No, Jeff. He insisted upon climbing into bed with Brains, but nothing more than that."

"Kyrano, I need you with me. Mother, keep a close eye on both Brains and Mark."

"What's going on?"

"No time now. I'll keep you informed."

With that, Jeff sped out of the room, Kyrano hot on his heels.

Brains and Ruth exchanged a look. "Wonder w-what that was a-all about?"

"Now, Brains, you're far too tired to be troubling yourself. Mark, how about we let Brains get some rest, okay?" She grasped his hand and helped him down from the bed as he nodded. "Let's come over here and sit on this bed, and I'll tell you a story."

Brains frowned as Mrs. Tracy helped him lie down. "S-Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Ruth responded quietly, giving him a pointed look. The last thing she wanted was for Mark to get upset. "Get some rest."

"Look at this," Jeff said, pointing to the monitor in the conference room where Parker still held the object he'd shown Jeff.

"It is a mask," Kyrano breathed. He looked into Jeff's face. "You believe it is my half-brother."

"I do. That's a trademark of the Hood's."

Kyrano nodded. "You are wondering what connection he has to the child."

"Exactly. Can you help me out here at all? Why was he having the ESS try and kidnap him? What does he want with him?"

"Given the child's ability to start fires at will, the answer is obvious. The Hood wishes to control this child, to possess him and use his ability against others."

"It seems we've interfered with that, Jeff," Penny said from the other screen. "The Hood is not going to be pleased."

Jeff rubbed a hand over his eyes. " I don't know, Penny. Something just isn't sitting right with me. The Hood usually does his own dirty work. Why would he get the ESS involved at all? It's far too risky to him. He could've taken Mark from the hospital at any point when John and Rachel were at the hotel, before Scott and I even arrived."

"So could the ESS have, Jeff," Penny nodded. "You're right. There's something fishy about this."

"Perhaps," Kyrano spoke softly as he stared off into the ether, "Perhaps the child is not his target."

Jeff and Penny looked at him, eyes wide.

"You mean..." Jeff's voice trailed off.

"Yes, Mr. Tracy. Perhaps his target all along was International Rescue."

"And I've brought Mark right into our midst. I played right into his hands," Jeff whispered in horror.

"That would explain why your petition for legal custody was approved so quickly," Penny noted. "The Hood must have had a hand in it."

"How much do you want to bet it was the Hood who kidnapped Mark five years ago to begin with?"

"But then why would he...oh."

"That's right, Penny. He's probably been training him since he was five. More than likely, he planted him in that apartment building and had him start that fire, knowing we'd be called to the scene. All the trouble with the ESS was just a ruse to get us to high-tail it back to our base. Kyrano, is it possible for him to...I don't know, somehow use Mark to locate us?"

"Mr. Tracy, I have learned over the years that when it comes to the evil mind of my half-brother, anything is possible."

March 13, 2032

In spite of the new threat they feared from the Hood, five months passed without incident.

Unless six accidental fires counted as incidents.

Christmas had been a merry affair, and having been the first one Mark had known in five years, a very special one. He received everything from a huge stuffed airplane (courtesy of Uncle Scott) to a beginning Chemistry set from Brains. Jeff even went so far as to get him a bicycle, which he promised he'd teach him to ride out on the runway. Ruth and Tin-Tin saw to it the child had a whole new wardrobe, and Mark had never been so happy.

Slowly but surely, Kyrano worked with Mark to teach him how to better control his ability when he became angry or upset. His speech improved dramatically under the careful guidance of the new "uncles" he had. Jeff and Ruth marveled at the child's intelligence, at how quickly he learned as Tin-Tin and Brains schooled him. For his part, Brains was very much on the road to recovery. He was now able to walk without aid, and the mobility reducer, a lightweight form-fitted cast-like covering on his arm would soon be coming off. He'd regained full use of his other arm, and his ribs were nearly healed.

John had yet to say more than a few words to anyone about Rachel and was right now doing his tour of duty aboard Thunderbird 5. He just didn't feel ready to talk about her, or about her death and what that meant to him. He knew from the brief conversation he'd had with his dad aboard Thunderbird 2 that his father understood. For John, that was pretty much all he needed. All talking about it further would do was bring back the grief he'd tried so hard to push away. And so, he kept himself busy with his astronomy and book-writing, wiling away the Earth-side hours by working on one of the Thunderbirds or helping Brains with new inventions.

Jeff had made the decision that for the time being, Mark was to be kept shielded from International Rescue at all costs. Whenever a rescue call came in, one of the island's residents, usually Ruth, Tin-Tin or Kyrano, would spirit Mark away to somewhere that was soundproof so he wouldn't hear Thunderbirds 1, 2 or 3 launching.

When not hanging out with Jeff or his sons, Mark spent many an hour with Brains, to whom he'd become even more attached. For the first time in his life, Brains felt like he had someone of his own, almost like the son he was certain he'd never have, and during a swimming lesson graciously being given to Mark by Gordon, Brains decided to approach Jeff about an idea he'd been toying with.

He found him in his study, and knocked on the partially open door.

"Come in, Brains. You're looking pretty good today."

"I-I feel much better, uh, Mr. Tracy. Thank you."

"What's on your mind?" he asked as Brains lowered himself into a chair on the other side of his desk.

"I wanted to, uh, talk to you a-about Mark."

"Okay," Jeff replied, putting down his pen and giving Brains his full attention.

"I, uh...I want to adopt him myself."

Jeff nodded slowly, and Brains wondered if he was going to object outright. Then his worries melted away as his employer smiled. "I wondered when you were going to ask me about that."

"Y-You did?"

"Sure. Anyone can see that of all of us, you're the one Mark is closest to. I daresay the feeling is mutual."

Brains nodded and smiled. "I-I know i-it's a lot of responsibility to, uh, raise a child. I-I guess my biggest concern i-is not only his safety, but a-also about us remaining here on the island."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, u-unless you're ready to let Mark know a-about International Rescue, I-I couldn't raise him here."

Jeff leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling as his mind worked. "That thought occurred to me right after I began wondering when you were going to ask me about adopting him."

"A-And?"

"His safety must always be our top concern. Just because the Hood hasn't tried to strike yet doesn't mean he won't wait months, even years, to try and use Mark to get at us."

"But i-if Mark's away from our base, wouldn't it be safer for, uh, International Rescue?"

"Yes, it might. But it wouldn't be safer for him. The Hood could just take him back again, or even kill him."

"So i-if he stays, i-it could spell the end of this organization."

Jeff nodded. "And if he goes, it could spell the end of him. And, quite possibly, you too if you're with him."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well, Brains, I think the best thing we can do is keep him hidden here on the island. He hasn't seen anything of International Rescue, and we should keep it that way as long as we can. I know we can't keep it secret from him forever, but he is a smart boy, and I trust he'll understand the implications of our security when the time comes."

"A-And about me adopting him?"

Jeff reached down and pulled a quarter-inch stack of papers from one of his desk drawers. "Here's the paperwork you'll need."

Brains smiled warmly as he rose to his feet and picked up the documents. "Thank you, Mr. Tracy."

He nodded and watched as Brains left the room with, it seemed, a spring in his step. But his forehead creased into a frown as soon as the engineer was gone. Adopted by Brains or not, Jeff himself had made the decision to bring Mark to live with them several months ago. Once they'd found out about the Hood, he'd lain awake for countless nights wondering if that decision would lead to International Rescue's demise.

But what could he do? They had the best security systems in the world to protect their base, and Kyrano had not only been helping Mark learn to control his fire starting, but also how to block his mind from invasion by his half-brother. As the years passed, and Mark grew to manhood, Jeff knew in his heart that his family would always be under the threat of the Hood somehow using the young man against them.

Then again, Kyrano had lived with them since the beginning and, despite repeated attempts to get at them through his powerful connection to his half-brother, the Hood had thus far failed. But how long could International Rescue's luck hold out?

He sighed as he picked up the pen and got back to his paperwork. "I hope I'm making the right decision. For all our sakes."

Belah Gaat had been biding his time, but his patience was wearing thin. Not only had his ability to see through Mark's eyes not shown him a damn thing that could be used to confirm he was living on International Rescue's secret base, but he knew Kyrano was trying to teach the boy to block his attempts to reach him. So far, he'd easily been able to overcome the simple techniques the child had learned, but was frustrated that he couldn't get more information as to the base's location.

That was when the call had come. One of his contacts in the United States had informed him that someone named Hiram K. Hackenbacker had petitioned the courts to legally adopt Mark Dunlop. Though surprised it was Brains and not Jeff who was the petitioner, it didn't matter to Belah. This was his chance to find them and put an end to them once and for all. He quickly made preparations for travel to the United States. Carefully selecting several masks from his vast collection, the Hood packed them carefully away as he plotted.

Finally. International Rescue's undoing was at hand.

"Thank you so much for dropping by so quickly, Mr. Weaver. We are so swamped around here, I'm glad you came applying as a social worker when you did!"

"Oh, that is no problem at all, Mrs. Luten. It seems I just happened to be in the right place at the right time," the man named Weaver said as he rose and shook hands with the woman across the desk from him.

"You passed out background and reference checks with flying colors. I'd like to offer you a job."

"Which I gladly accept." As his eyes met hers, he looked deeply into her mind. She was frozen to the spot, her hand still held in his larger one. "You will assign me to the adoption of Mark Dunlop," he whispered as he held her gaze.

Suddenly she blinked and looked embarrassed, pulling her hand away from his. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Weaver, I don't know what came over me. Here," she said, bending down and grabbing a file from the top of her desk. "I have your first assignment. There's a man named Hackenbacker who wants to adopt a young boy. He was initially supposed to be adopted by a professor in England, but I think it fell through."

Weaver smiled as he took the offered folder.

"There seems to be a five-year gap in exactly where the boy's been. I couldn't find any records on him at all."

"Oh, you need not worry. I will get to the bottom of it."

She smiled gratefully as she took her seat. "Thank you very much. You should meet with this man as quickly as possible and establish that the home is safe and loving. In addition, we'll need the file updated for the missing time. I'll give Mr. Hackenbacker a call to set up the appointment. You know how to reach me if you have any questions."

"Yes, I do. And thank you."

Belah stepped out into the fresh Kansas air. It was noon, and the Wichita streets were bustling with activity. No one took notice of the blonde man dressed in a brown suit as he walked among them to a waiting car. He got into the back seat and spoke to the man behind the wheel. "Take me to the hotel."

"Yes, Sir."

He opened the file and turned to the page upon which "Hackenbacker" had written a long essay about his reasons for wanting to adopt Mark Dunlop. One sentence in particular caught his eye, and he read it aloud. "Mark continues to flourish under the protective and watchful eye of my benefactor, Mr. Jefferson Tracy." He laughed as he looked out the window at the buildings whizzing by. "Let us see how well Jefferson Tracy protects him now."

"Brains, you have a call on Line 2," Jeff's voice came wafting through the speakers in the game room, where Brains was watching as Scott and Virgil tried teaching Mark how to play pool. "It's Tia Luten from Wichita Child Protective Services."

Scott and Virgil looked at Brains, who rose from his chair and headed out the door. "I-I'll take it in the target room, Mr. Tracy."

"Wow, that was fast," Virgil commented.

"What fast?"

Scott chuckled as he ruffled Mark's hair. "You're fast, that's what. I've never seen anyone pick pool up so well!"

Mark grinned as he lined up for yet another shot. Virgil's eyes met those of his brother, and the men shared a smile. If that phone call Brains was on went the way everyone hoped it would, pretty soon Mark would officially be one of their own.

"Hello, Mrs. Luten."

"Hello there, Mr. Hackenbacker! I have wonderful news for you. Your petition passed the first round."

"Thank you," Brains replied, trying his best not to appear too excited. "What is the, uh, next step?"

"Well, that's what I called to let you know. I have a social worker who can come for a visit at your earliest convenience. His name is Tom Weaver, he's a wonderful man and he's ready whenever you are."

"Oh. Uh...well, tomorrow would be, uh, fine, Mrs. Luten."

"Wonderful, just wonderful!"

Brains noticed she said that word a lot.

"I'll go ahead and have him fly out to meet you."

"I-If you don't mind, Mrs. Luten, I think I'd rather one of the family fly him in."

"Oh, of course, that's not a problem. He's staying right here in Wichita. Where would you like to pick him up?"

"I-I'll have to speak with Mr. Tracy. I'll call you back shortly."

"Wonderful!" Brains cringed. "I can't wait to hear from you! Good bye, Mr. Hackenbacker!"

"Good bye."

Brains nearly whooped with joy as he ran to the door of the pool room. Scott and Virgil's heads whipped around. Brains gave them the thumbs-up and was off like a shot.

Virgil laughed. "Guess that went pretty well."

"Yeah," Scott said as he joined in the laughter. "Guess it did."

"Mr. Tracy!" Brains nearly yelled as he ran across Thunderbird 2's hangar.

"I'm over here, Brains, Pod 2!"

The engineer ran into the pod, nearly knocking Alan down in the process. "They want the social worker to come out tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" Alan said. "Wow."

"All right, Brains," Jeff smiled. "Calm down. What's the situation?"

"Mrs. Luten said a man named Tom Weaver was ready to visit the island whenever we were ready for him. I figured the sooner the better. I told her we'd pick him up."

"Good thinking. Where is he?"

"Right now he's in Wichita."

"Can you arrange for him to meet us at Burbank? Tracy Corp's private hangar should be enough for security."

"I'm certain I could."

"Fine. Alan, you want to pick him up?"

"Sure, Dad."

"What time, Mr. Tracy?"

"Well, maybe morning would be best," Jeff replied, quirking an eyebrow at his youngest son.

"Sounds good. I'll pick him up at ten."

"I'll have Tin-Tin run a security check on him right away. And Alan will take the necessary precautions."

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Tracy!" Brains said excitedly as he hurried from the pod. "Thank you!"

"I don't think I've seen him that excited since the first time we launched Thunderbird 1."

Alan laughed. "He sure loves that kid."

Jeff nodded. "He sure does."

Brains found Mark still in the pool room with Scott and Virgil. By the perplexed look on the brothers' faces, Brains knew Mark must be beating them but good.

"Brains, get this boy out of here before he humiliates us any further."

The engineer laughed and reached his hand out. Not surprisingly, Mark laid his pool cue down on the table and ran into Brains' arms, enveloping him in a hug. "The social worker is coming tomorrow, guys. Alan's picking him up at ten."

"That's great, Brains!" Virgil smiled.

"Yeah. We'll be ready, don't worry."

"Thanks. Mark? Can we go for a walk? I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay."

They left hand-in-hand. Scott leaned against the table as the brothers watched them go. "That boy sure does love him."

Virgil nodded. "Yeah. He sure does."

Brains and Mark walked in silence out to the beach just as the sun began to set, casting beautiful oranges, purples and reds across the darkening sky. Finally, Brains spoke. "Do you like it here on Tracy Island, Mark?"

The child nodded vigorously. "I like very much."

"You like Mr. Tracy and your uncles and Tin-Tin and Grandma?"

"I like everybody, Brains. Why you ask?"

"Well, I guess what I want to know is, do you like me?"

Mark stopped and turned a troubled face toward him. "Why you ask that? I love you. I tell you I love you."

Brains smiled and pulled the boy into a hug. "I just wanted to check."

"Your words no broken anymore, Brains."

"No. I guess they're not. Mark, do you want to stay here?"

"Yes."

"I mean...stay here with us for a long time. Live here, on Tracy Island. With me."

"You want me stay?"

"Very much. But only if it's what you want to do."

"You love me?"

Brains crouched down so he was eye-level with the child. "I do love you. Very much."

Mark grinned. "Then I stay!" he cried, throwing himself at Brains so hard they both tumbled onto the sand. They laughed as they picked themselves up, brushing sand off as they went.

"Now Mark," Brains said, trying to get serious for a few minutes, "There's a man coming here tomorrow to talk to you and me and Mr. Tracy and everyone else."

"What he want?"

"He wants to make sure you would have a good, happy home with us."

Mark's small hand snaked into Brains' larger one. "You keep me safe," he whispered as they neared the house. "You make me happy."

Brains squeezed his hand. "You make me happy too, Mark."

March 14, 2032

The day dawned bright, warm and breezy on the small tropical island. Sparkling bluish-green water lapped at the shore as Brains blinked his eyes against the intruding rays of a bright morning sun. He smiled as he rolled over and saw the peaceful face of Mark on the pillow beside him. So far, no matter what he and the others tried, they could not get the child to sleep anywhere but in the same bed as Brains. Ruth had told him not to worry and relayed, much to Brains' surprise, the story of her only son, who had insisted upon crawling into his parents' bed (much to Grant's consternation) until he was ten.

Ruth threatened bodily harm if Brains ever let on to Jeff that he knew that.

He almost chuckled out loud as he got out of bed and padded across the room. Today was the day. Tom Weaver would be there in just under four hours. Alan had probably left already in Tracy One. Brains felt badly for sleeping in, but he and Mark had both been up pretty late last night discussing the child's future, and how things were going to be if the adoption went through.

He held his hand beneath the running water, waiting for it to warm to just the right temperature. As he stepped into the shower and slid the door shut behind him, he had no idea what was happening back in his own bed.

As soon as Brains had started the shower, Mark's eyes popped open wide and his body stiffened. "No," he breathed, his eyes filling with tears. "No." He stayed like that for ten long minutes before finally being released. His body went limp and by the time Brains returned to the bedroom, it just looked like Mark had been asleep the whole time.

"Let him sleep," he whispered as he pulled his clothes on. "Today's a big day. For both of us."

Tom Weaver had passed every security check Jeff and Penelope had run on him. He'd grown up in Kansas, and had been working with disadvantaged children since graduating college with a degree in child psychology. According to the information they'd gotten from Wichita Child Protective Services, Weaver had been a social worker with them for four years and had an exemplary record. Alan had scanned him in his entirety but found no evidence of weaponry or anything else shady.

And Weaver was on his way. Sitting in the cockpit next to Alan Tracy, he kept up the conversation, and soon had Alan pretty much eating out of his hand with talk of the unfortunate children he had helped throughout the years, and how fulfilling it was. By the time Tracy One reached the island, Alan and he were engrossed in an in-depth conversation about Mark Dunlop, and how he'd been doing living on the island. Alan was regaling him with stories of the child learning to speak, learning to write, learning to swim and ride a bicycle (albeit with training wheels at this point) and of how the boy had blossomed under Brains' care.

As soon as they landed, the social worker marveled at the lush surroundings of the island. "It is so peaceful. So quiet."

"Yeah. You don't realize how noisy civilization is until you're miles from it."

"What made your father choose such a faraway place for home?"

"Oh a hundred things. You know, tropical climate, peace and quiet, your own private beach. What more could a guy want?"

What more indeed.

They rode up the elevator from the tarmac to the patio of the Cliff House. On the far side they entered a tunnel which led beneath the large mountain that hogged most of the space on Tracy Island. Weaver asked questions, Alan answered. When they reached the main house, they entered through a hall that led to the first floor bedrooms.

"This is Brains' room," Alan said as they passed the doors. "They're actually suites, with their own sitting rooms, bedrooms and full bathrooms. Right across from Brains' room is Mark's."

"Brains? Why do you call him that?"

As if I did not know.

"Oh, he's a scientist, and a smart one. It's just a nickname he picked up."

"Ah."

Alan led the man into the living room. "Here we go, Mr. Weaver."

"Oh, please, call me Tom. And I presume you are Mr. Mark Dunlop!" he smiled, bending forward to shake Mark's hand.

Smiling and nodding, Mark stuck out his hand and shook Tom's just like Scott had taught him.

"What fine manners you have!" He turned his attention to the man standing next to the boy. "And you are Mr. Hackenbacker, I presume?"

"Yes, Sir. I-It's nice to meet you."

"Tom Weaver. Pleased to meet you as well. From what I've seen so far, this place is like a play land for any child!"

"It certainly can be. Mr. Weaver, I'd like you to meet Jeff Tracy," Brains said as he gestured toward the desk on the far side of the living room.

Weaver walked over as Jeff rose to his feet, and the men shook hands. "This is some island you've got, Mr. Tracy."

"We like it," Jeff replied good-naturedly. "Well, Brains, I think I'll leave the three of you alone. Call me when you need me."

"Thank you, Mr., uh, Tracy." Brains gestured to a nearby chair, and Tom took a seat. Mark and Brains sat opposite him on the sofa, Mark grabbing his hand and holding tight.

Weaver happened to look up at a row of portraits on the opposite wall. "Wow, those are some pictures. Are these Jeff Tracy's sons?"

"Y-Yes. Left-to-right are John, Scott, Virgil, Alan and Gordon."

"What's that, their birth order?"

"No, a-actually, Scott's the eldest and Alan's the youngest. I think their positioning had something to do with several bets that were placed between the brothers."

Tom laughed. "Ah, boys will be boys, at any age! So, Mr. Hackenbacker, let's get down to business, shall we? First I will interview the two of you together, see how you interact, and ask you a few questions. Next I'll ask to speak with you alone, and then it will be Mark's turn. Does that sound okay to you, Mark?"

Mark nodded and leaned into Brains, who put his good arm around him.

"What happened to your arm, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I injured it when I helped get Mark out of that burning building."

"Oh, right, Alan told me about that on the way here. That was a very heroic thing you did."

"Thank you," Brains said quietly, his cheeks turning red. "Mark was well worth it."

"After Mark's interview, I will be speaking with each of the other members of the household. How many are there total?"

"Nine. Mark and I make eleven."

"Well, it's a good thing this house is so big, then! All right, let's get down to business."

Tom Weaver asked many questions. Brains and Mark supplied many answers. Ruth came to take Mark away for a while so Tom could interview Brains alone. Then she brought Mark back and left him alone with Tom in the living room, with Brains nervously biting his nails at the kitchen table.

"Brains, stop that this instant! You'll chew your fingers right to the bone!"

"S-Sorry, Tin-Tin. I'm just, uh, nervous."

Gordon smiled. "That's understandable. Weaver seems like a decent enough guy, though. How do you think your interview went?"

"O-Okay, I guess."

"Brains, you haven't stuttered in--" Scott's thought was cut off in mid-sentence as all their watches began to vibrate. "Oh, God, not now."

"It's John," Jeff said. "I'll take it in my Study. Brains, you stay here with Mother and Tin-Tin. Boys, come with me."

Jeff, Gordon, Alan, Virgil and Scott took off for the stairway leading to the second floor. They burst into Jeff's study, where he opened a line to Thunderbird 5 as Gordon closed the door behind them.

"Not a good time, John."

"I know, Father. The social worker's there. But this is a pretty bad one. A huge sinkhole opened up in the middle of a Manhattan street. Seems one of the old subway tunnels gave way. There were a couple kids down there horsing around, and NYPD says they're stuck good in the rubble. There are also six motorists that were trapped in their vehicles when the ground went. The place is grid locked, Dad, it's rush hour. They're estimating rescue equipment won't be able to get through for up to twelve hours."

"All right, John. Tell them International Rescue is on the way."

"F.A.B. Thunderbird 5 out."

"Gordon, it's almost time for lunch. Have Kyrano and Brains take Mr. Weaver and Mark down to his mushroom garden, then meet your brothers in Thunderbird 2."

"Soundproof. Right, Dad. On my way."

"Scott, Virgil, Alan, you get ready for takeoff. I'll give you the all-clear, and then you beat your tails to New York."

"F.A.B.," his sons replied as they hurried out of the room.

"Of all the times," Jeff muttered as he followed them down the steps.

"That was fascinating, Mr. Kyrano. It's nice to know you have a fresh supply of a variety of foods here for Mark. It's important that he eat healthy."

"Yes, Sir. We all take turns at cooking, but by far, the Tracy men seem to prefer mine."

"That might have something to do with the fact that the only thing Scott can cook is eggs," Ruth chimed in as Kyrano led Weaver into the kitchen.

"Or it may be that everyone is tired of cleaning up after Virgil when he spends the entire day cooking dinner," Tin-Tin added, and they all laughed.

"Where are the others?"

"You know young men," Jeff said as he entered the kitchen. "They get busy doing this or that and lose track of time. Shall we?"

The seven of them sat around the table. Tom Weaver watched everyone closely, but none of them seemed to mind, as they knew he was there to observe them.

I think I know exactly where those sons of yours are, Jeff Tracy. They're off on a rescue, aren't they? All the better. With all of them gone, you are left weak and defenseless. Now is the time to strike.

An hour later, Tin-Tin, Kyrano and Ruth cleared the dishes as Jeff escorted Tom, Brains and Mark to the Hospital Ward. During lunch, Tom had shown concern at how far they were from any sort of medical facility, and Jeff promised him a good look at their hospital area. "Brains has a medical degree as well. He takes care of pretty much anything that happens in the way of injuries on this island."

He won't be able to take care of this one.

As the ward door slid open, Tom let out a low whistle. "Man, this looks like a full-fledged hospital!"

"It pretty much is. State-of-the-art operating facilities and medical equipment."

"Impressive."

It will take more than a large hospital ward to save you now.

"These doors are kept locked at all times, so there's never any danger of Mark entering unaccompanied."

"Oh, no doubt. Safety in a place this size is of utmost importance."

Brains walked across the ward to the opposite wall, with Mark seemingly glued to his side. The boy had been fairly quiet, Jeff suddenly realized. Not at all his normal smiling self. Then again, he was probably nervous as hell what with Weaver interrogating him earlier.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Jeff looked from where Brains was opening a cabinet on the far wall to where Tom was stepping in from the operating room. Their eyes locked, and Jeff gasped as a strange sensation began in his head and traveled like wildfire throughout his body. He stiffened and let out a sort of squawking sound as a heavy fog descended over his mind.

One down.

Mark happened to turn and see what the man was doing to Jeff. He knew in an instant who Tom Weaver really was and began to shake. "No," he whispered.

"What, Mark?" Brains asked as he turned to look down at him. "Mark! What's wrong!" he cried, reaching out to put his hands on the boy's shoulders. He followed Mark's gaze and stood in shock as he watched Tom turn away from a very silent, very rigid, very blank Jeff Tracy. "What are you doing?"

"Claiming my prize," Weaver replied. He reached behind his head and began pulling at his hair. Brains could only watch in horror as the hair came right up off his head, and fake skin began to peel away from his face.

"No," Mark shook his head, backing into Brains' protective arms. "No, no, no, no!"

"Mark?" Brains said as he crouched behind him. "Who is that?"

The child began to cry and blubbered, "Master."

"My God," Brains whispered, rising to his full height and watching as the mask finally came all the way off. Underneath it lay a bald head, black eyebrows and glittering black eyes. "The Hood."

"Correct, Mr. Hackenbacker!" Belah crowed, cackling with glee. "Oh, you fools! It is so easy to formulate misinformation. You trust your computers and your network of informants far too much."

"It can't be," Brains shook his head, grabbing Mark and holding him tightly against his body. "You can't have him."

"Tut tut, Brains, I don't believe you're in a position to tell me what I can and cannot have," Belah replied as he pulled a gun out of his jacket.

"But Alan scanned you at Burbank!"

"Fool. You're not the only one who can create seemingly miraculous bits of technology. It was cloaked. The same sort of device I believe you might use on your Thunderbirds. Oh, don't worry. You need not answer. I will soon have every piece of information I could ever want."

"You won't get away with this. The boys will be back any minute."

"Ah, yes. The boys. I'm assuming they're out on a rescue. You've no idea how badly I wanted to kill my brother when he showed me that pathetic mushroom garden. But it doesn't matter. He'll soon be dead, as will you all."

"No," Mark sobbed. "Master, no!"

"Silence, you fool! They have taught you to think and speak. I, however, will not accept such behavior. You will come to me now."

"Mark, stay here," Brains said, tightening his grip on the boy's arms.

Belah pointed his gun at Jeff's head. "If you don't come here, Mark, I will blow his head off."

"No!" Mark cried, wrenching himself free of Brains' grasp.

"Mark! Come back!" Brains yelled as he started to run after him.

"No! Brains stay," Mark said as he turned to face the man he'd come to love so much. "No die, Brains. Not for me."

"Yes for you, Mark."

The child shook his head and walked the rest of the way to Belah. He happened to pass by the counter running along one side of the ward, and Brains saw him grab a bottle of alcohol from atop it. His mind worked quickly...in only a few seconds, he knew exactly what Mark was planning to do. "Oh, my God."

Belah grinned as he placed his hand over Mark's chest and pulled the boy back into him. "Who should we kill first, Boy? The great billionaire Jeff Tracy?" He swung the gun around in Brains' direction. "Or the man who wanted to be your father?"

"Brains love me," Mark said quietly. "You only hurt me."

Belah shrugged. "All is fair in love and war, Boy. Or haven't they taught you that yet? Who do you think would come first when they're out on a rescue, mm? You or the hundreds of people near death in a mudslide?"

Mark turned to face the Hood and backed away. "Rescue?"

"Ah," Belah said as he nodded in Brains' direction. "So they didn't even trust you enough to tell you their little secret. You didn't know that these men are International Rescue. Did you?"

"Inter-national...Rescue?" he repeated. Then he turned to look at Brains, a frown on his face. "You are?"

Brains nodded, tears stinging the back of his eyes. "Mark, please. Come over here. We didn't tell you because we wanted to protect you."

"Protect him? Ha!" Belah spat. "You wanted to protect yourselves. How many lies have they told you, Boy? Why do you think they brought you here in the first place? To study you, like a lab rat. You can start fires with your mind. You should know by now that no one will ever love you. They'll only love what you can do for them!"

"That's not true!" Brains yelled. "What he can or can't do has nothing to do with how we feel about him!"

"Believe what you will, Boy. My question remains unanswered. Do I kill Brains? Or Jeff? It is your choice."

Tears streamed down Mark's face as his eyes met Brains' across the room.

"I love you, Mark. And so does Mr. Tracy and everyone else. Don't listen to him."

"You want to be my father?"

Brains nodded as his eyes filled with tears. "Very much. It's all I want."

"You lie to me," Mark said as he turned to face Belah. "Brains does love me." He looked over to where Jeff still stood terrifyingly immobile. "Master only want to hurt the ones who love me." Then he turned back to look at Brains. "I love you, Brains."

"Make the decision, Mark."

"I choose who die," Mark said, taking one last look at Brains, then turning to face Belah. "I choose you."

Belah laughed out loud. "I am not in the running, Boy. I guess you're leaving it up to me. That's fine. I choose...Brains." He leveled the gun across the room and his finger tightened over the trigger. "Goodbye, Daddy."

Brains saw Mark's left hand move quickly, and cried out as he ran towards him. Mark jerked the bottle of alcohol in Belah's direction, effectively covering him with the liquid, and at the same time lunged for his arm, knocking the shot Belah fired off into the wall. Belah roared in anger as they fell to the floor.

"Noooooooooo!" Brains screamed.

But he was too late.

Belah and Mark burst into flames so hot that Brains couldn't get anywhere near them.

"Mark! Mark! Nooo!" Brains cried, running for the fire extinguisher.

He could hear Belah's screams of pain as he pulled the pin and began spraying them with dicetyline. Eyes wide, he fought back his anguish until finally the last flame was doused. The half-empty canister dropped with a clang to the floor in the suddenly silent hospital ward. Brains sank to his knees as he took in the unmoving forms of the Hood, whose face and head contained very little left in the way of flesh, and Mark, whose face was buried in Belah's torso.

Tears streaming down his face, Brains reached out and pulled Mark away from Belah and sat back on the floor, cradling him in his arms. To his surprise, Mark gasped, and began to breathe as Jeff started coming out of the spell he'd been under.

"Mark, why?" Brains cried, holding the boy to his chest and rocking him back and forth. "Why?"

"I save you."

Brains nodded and kissed an unburned spot of flesh on his forehead. "Yes. You saved me. You saved all of us, Mark. But you shouldn't have done that."

"You safe now. You happy."

"Not without you, I'm not. I'm going to make you all better, okay?"

Mark winced in pain, but forced a smile to his face. "No cry. No cry for me. I love you." He took one final breath of air into his lungs. "Be happy," he croaked. "I f-free now, Brains. I f-free."

"Yes, Mark," Brains sobbed as he watched the child exhale for the very last time. "You're free."

Every resident of Tracy Island stood gathered 'round a small green patch of grass halfway up the mountain on Tracy Island. At the head of a fresh mound of earth stood a wooden sign which would, one day soon, be replaced with a real marker, but would have to do for now. The sign read:

Mark Phillip Dunlop
March 14, 2022 - March 14, 2032
Remarkable child,
loved by all who dwell here.
You are finally free.

Of course, none of them knew Mark's real birthday, so it seemed fitting to make the day he died the day he'd been born as well. Jeff grabbed Brains' shoulder tightly and held it for a moment before turning to help his mother back down the side of the mountain. Kyrano bowed at the grave, as did Tin-Tin, and the two silently followed Jeff and Ruth. Scott and Virgil each placed one of Mark's toys at the makeshift headstone and headed down the mountainside. Gordon and Alan did the same, soon following their brothers.

John, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Brains, finally spoke. "You know, I didn't even get to go to Rachel's funeral. We were on a rescue that day."

Brains just stared at the dirt and the toys the Tracys had placed upon it. "I loved him so much, John. How do you cope with losing someone like that?"

"I don't know. I haven't really let myself think about Rachel."

"It hurts too much."

"Yeah," John nodded. "It does."

Brains took several deep breaths, then stepped forward and placed a hand-painted picture Mark had made for him only one week prior. In splattered brown was a representation of Tracy Island. Smack dab in the middle were two figures, one tall and one short. They both had funny-shaped polka-dot eyes, and very large, very wide smiles on their faces. At Mark's insistence, Brains had drawn an arrow over the head of the larger figure and written Brains, and another arrow over the smaller figure and written Mark. Now, he placed a stone over the picture to keep it from blowing away.

"Dad knows what it's like to lose someone you love," John said as Brains turned away from the grave to face him. "He said I could talk to him about it. Maybe it's time."

"Maybe it's time we both did," Brains replied.

They descended the mountain just as sun began to set. Walking along the beach toward the house in silence, it was Brains who finally spoke as he stopped and looked out over the glittering ocean. "This was Mark's favorite time of day. He once said God had painted the sky happy because he was so happy."

John draped his arm over the engineer's shoulders. "You think Mark and Rachel are up there somewhere?" he asked, looking toward the heavens.

Brains thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I'd like to think they are."

They turned and started heading for the house again. "Maybe that's how Dad does it," John said. "Maybe the way he copes is by believing Mom's still watching over us all." Brains heaved a huge sigh, his body shaking slightly. "You gonna be okay?"

He nodded as he turned to stare at the fiery reds and oranges of the setting sun. "I think so, John. I think so."

John headed up the long, curved staircase as Brains watched the sun descend. Goodbye, Mark. I love you.

And perhaps it was only in his mind, perhaps merely something he wanted to hear so badly he dreamed it up, but Brains could have sworn he heard Mark's voice echoing in the soft breeze.

I love you too, Brains.