She wasn't quite certain she knew what all had happened. Virgil and the boys...Jeff...Kyrano...Ruth. It had been madness, pure and simple.

Now, Penelope leaned back in her chaise lounge as she contemplated the past three months. She looked over toward another chaise where Jeff Tracy seemed to be asleep. Parker silently brought her an ice-cold glass of tea and placed another on a table near Jeff before retreating back to the sprawling house that covered nearly four acres of her Australian ranch, Bonga Bonga.

The fact that Virgil had made it out of the federal building alive was nothing less than miraculous. That Kyrano had fully recovered from the attack which had rendered him unconscious for four days was unbelievable. And the fact that Jeff Tracy was walking, talking and seemingly normal was...Penny frowned as he mumbled something in his sleep.

Well, it was too good to be true.

He was still distant. He didn't speak much and when he did it was about how it was going putting Tracy Corp back together, or the boys' latest rescue or how things were back on Tracy Island. He never spoke of the initial incident she felt had been the beginning of the end of the man she knew as steadfast, strong as a rock. Being a pillar of society and a gleaming beacon to the world in his role as patriarch had become a gigantic stone around his neck that seemed to suck the very essence of who he used to be right out into the ether.

There was no mistaking it: Jeff was not Jeff.

But what could be done? He'd refused to see a counsellor. The Hood had yet to be caught. There were innumerable telephone conversations with the families of his employees who had died that day in Manhattan, an untold number of cards and letters to be written, an insane amount of work trying to rebuild that which had been torn from the Tracy family like wings from a butterfly.

And from what Scott had told her in secret late-night conversations while his father was asleep in one of the guest rooms, the rebuilding wasn't going as well as Jeff let on. Tracy Corp, umbrella to twenty-three separate companies owned by the Tracy family, had lost only a fraction of its total employees when Tracy Tower had disintegrated. But that fraction had been likened to the central nervous system of the companies, where everything happened. Scott said the company's exterior was cascading away faster than they could patch it up.

And then there was Jeff. The psychiatrist Penny had gone to see about him had said, "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder doesn't even begin to cover it. He sort of...imploded." He had finally given in and gone to stay at Bonga Bonga once out of the hospital, but spent only two days resting until he'd gotten right back to work, even having files and equipment shipped to the ranch for business use. And Penny remained silent.

He never talked of the breakdown he'd had. Dr. Havens had advised not to push it. But Penelope knew it was only a matter of time. Jeff had already broken. Now it was on to the business of acknowledging that the pieces were no longer a part of the whole. With that accomplished, they could move on to picking them up and starting to glue them back together. But acknowledging anything that deep and personal wasn't exactly a Tracy's forte.

She started when she heard him speak her name, looking up in surprise.

"Where were you just now?"

She smiled wryly. "Where I always am, Jeff. Did you have a nice nap?"

He stood and stretched. Penny watched him move. She missed the supple skin and rippling muscles that used to be part of this man. He was thin now, his cheeks hollow. He ate little and slept less. He looked...he looked...

"I must look old to you," he whispered, looking down upon her sadly.

Her immediate thought was the same as it had always been when he said something like that. You're not old, you're Jeff Tracy!

But the moment was gone as quickly as it had come. Jeff was halfway back to the house before she could even register what he'd said and how he'd said it.

"You're Jeff Tracy," she said as she watched him disappear inside. "And...you're..." Her voice trailed off into a whisper. "Old."

"Now for the last test."

He watched the readout...watched...waited...at just the right moment, he pressed a button.

And was in.

Colors spun around him like a kaleidoscope on crack. He still hadn't gotten used to that, but it was of little consequence when his ultimate goal was within reach. He seemed to come to the end of a tunnel and then ejected. Right where he ought to be.

A woman screamed, turning on the man who'd appeared out of nowhere. She backed away, then sprinted down the hall into her living room. When next he spotted her, she was on the phone, undoubtedly dialing some emergency service.

He laughed as he looked at the device on his arm. The results were perfect. His plan looked to be more than foolproof this time. He waited and watched as words and symbols, numbers and readings flew by on the small monitor.

"First it's back home to make final preparations," he chuckled with glee. "And then, on to show Jeff Tracy that Kyrano was right. He isn't safe. None of them are."

It was downright genius. His scientists had perfected a device which was capable of moving whomever wore it...along with anything they might be in or on...through other dimensions to wherever they wanted to go. It had been years in the making, and only recently had they finally gotten the breakthrough needed to make the dream a reality. The end result? According to what he'd tried so far, the end result was that he could wink out of existence in one place, in his own dimension, and reappear somewhere else...again, in his own dimension...by using other dimensions as travel portals. No one he'd tried it on had ever had an inkling he was coming.

And that was precisely the plan.

He punched the button again, and disappeared from sight right before the frightened woman's eyes. Belah Gaat's evil laugh echoed through the universe as he landed right back in his temple where he'd begun this latest round of tests.

"They'll never see me coming." He laughed again as he removed the device and laid it gently in its specially-designed case. "The time has come to reclaim my victory."

"There's got to be something we can do, John."

John shook his head and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "Guys, I haven't slept in over a month. I can't tell you how many which ways I've tried this. No matter how I do it, projections don't really improve enough to even shake a fist at." John rubbed his eyes, letting out a long, slow sigh as he threw the pen across the room. "This is impossible."

Scott frowned, reviewing the report John had given them all just fifteen minutes ago. "Has Dad seen this?"

He shook his head no. "I need us to figure this out before I send it to him. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you don't go into your boss with a problem unless you've got at least two solutions to hand him as side dishes."

"Especially if that boss is your dad," Virgil remarked.

"Ain't that the truth," Scott mumbled.

Four of Jeff's sons sat staring at one another, with the fifth's just-as-blank face staring right back at them from a video monitor. For a change, Alan was glad to be on Thunderbird 5, because at the moment, things on the island just weren't good.

"Let me get this straight," Scott said, and the others groaned. "What? Sitting here staring at each other like a group of kids who just got hit with a pop quiz in Ancient Civilizations isn't going to help figure out what to do about the fact that our father's company...the very thing that enables us to do what we do for a living...is going under!"

John rose from his chair to retrieve his pen from the floor across the room. "Tactfully put as always, Scott," he said.

"Well, we need to face facts here, John, not just act like it'll right itself somehow."

He whirled on them. "I am facing facts! I've been working this day and night for weeks! You want facts? Okay, here are the facts!" He reached down and grabbed a folder off the coffee table. With every sentence spoken, he took a piece of paper out of it and slapped it down in front of his eldest brother. "Aerospace has lost three million a day since Manhattan!" The second paper ripped as he pulled it from the folder. "Engineering has lost a million-and-a-half per day!" The third piece was half-crumpled in his hand before it made it to Scott's eyes. "Robotics, another million per day!"

He started to grab another piece, but frustration caused him to fumble them and he just threw the entire folder down on the floor at Scott's feet. "Our stock has bottomed out, Scott! At this rate we've got maybe six months before this island goes up on the chopping block, and-" He took the pen and hurled it across the room once more. "There are only six Tracys. We can't run International Rescue and put the Corp. back together. It's just not possible!"

Virgil saw that Scott was about to take the fight into a more physical direction, and spoke up quickly. "You can't be suggesting what I think you're suggesting, John."

"Well?" John exhaled, slumping back into his chair, his energy completely spent. "It's not working, trying to do this from here. It's just not. The rescues have escalated; we're gone for days at a time with only a few back home – we barely have time to sleep before we're out again. When are we supposed to be doing this? When are we supposed to be taking the business trips, finding the right people to replace who we lost, putting the puzzle back together again?"

Tin-Tin entered the room with a tray of drinks. She walked around, silently offering one to each man. They quietly contemplated the cold liquid as a tropical breeze wafted through the Lounge. "If I may be so bold?" she finally said, setting the tray down on the coffee table before picking up the folder by Scott's feet.

"What, Tin-Tin?" Alan asked from the monitor.

"I know that International Rescue exists to save lives, and that you can hardly fathom shutting it down."

Just giving voice to the thought that had them all in knots made their stomachs twist even tighter.

"And even though it would mean some peoples' lives wouldn't get saved, there is one other person you must consider as well."

"Well, who's that?" Gordon asked.

"Your father," she replied.

"We are considering him, Tin-Tin. That's why we're trying to think of a way to clean up this mess," John replied.

"No, you're not considering him at all. You're treating him like a child. You've banished him from the island, but do you seriously think just being away from here is going to magically make him better?"

"Well, it's just that it's so stressful around here with IR-" Scott began.

"And you think...what, that it's better at Bonga Bonga? That the situation simply doesn't affect him depending on where he is?"

"He's not well enough to help on this, Tin-Tin," Scott barked, sounding much harsher than he'd intended.

But Tin-Tin knew these men better than anyone, and she knew his tone of voice had more to do with worry than irritation. "Scott, you're treating your father as if he's already gone over the hill and around the bend. Regardless what happened here that day, don't forget that he's the one who created Tracy Corporation to begin with. He built that empire, and International Rescue."

Scott looked at John. John looked at Virgil. Virgil looked at Alan. Alan looked at Gordon. Gordon looked back to Scott. "She's right, you know. I guess we are treating him like an invalid."

"You didn't see him," Scott replied stiffly. "His face...his eyes..." He rose to his feet and walked over to the windows looking out upon the sparkling blue Pacific Ocean, arms folded defensively across his chest. "He was...gone. And from what Penny says...he pretty much still is."

Virgil came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then maybe it's time we help him find his way back. Back to International Rescue...back to Tracy Corp..." Scott turned and their eyes met. "Back to us."

She entered the massive open area that comprised a goodly portion of the west end of the ranch house to find Jeff seated at the communications console against the far wall. Scott's face graced the vid screen, and from Jeff's posture, she could well imagine that the conversation was far from pleasant.

Unwilling to interfere, yet desperate to know what was happening, Penny sidled nearer on the pretense of fluffing sofa pillows and folding an already immaculately-creased throw.

"...long and short of it, Dad, is...well, we need you back here. We can't do this alone."

Was it Penelope's imagination, or did Scott sound desperate?

"I was beginning to wonder if you boys were trying to get rid of me."

Gruff, but with just a hint of humor.

Scott looked sheepishly away. Jeff nodded his understanding. "I will leave within the hour."

His eldest turned his face back to the vid phone. "Okay, Dad. See you then."

Jeff cut the line and turned to find Penelope walking through the room, ostensibly on the way to her bedroom suite. "Penny?"

She stopped, as though startled at his very presence. "Yes, Jeff?"

"Don't kid a kidder, Penny, I know you heard that."

Resigned to having been caught red-handed, as it were, she stopped and turned to face him. "Yes. You're leaving." She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. He may not have been getting better, but at least he was there where she could keep an eye on him.

He had risen to his feet and was now standing before her. On impulse, he reached out and grabbed her hand. "Come back with me."

"To Tracy Island?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

He nodded. "I was awful to you, Penny. I remember what I said." She looked away, the sting of his words still as fresh as though he'd just uttered them.

You sneak around my house listening to my private conversations and then think you have the right to tell me how to run my island?

I need you to leave, Penny. You and Parker just leave. Now.

I said leave!

"I don't even know why you stuck around in the hospital, or why you invited me to your home after what I said to you, Penny, but..." Here he took her other hand so he was firmly holding both. "...I'm sorry."

She withdrew a hand and gently touched his cheek. "I shall pack my things immediately," she said softly, then turned and resumed her original course.

Perhaps this is for the best, she thought as she closed her suite door behind her. That's the most emotion...the most words...I've heard from him in weeks.

Standing in the middle of the living area, Jeff continued looking down the hall well after Penny had entered her room. He'd hurt her badly. He'd seen it in her eyes just now. And yet, for some reason, she continued to forgive him.

He looked down at his hands. Old. Weathered. Veins sticking out. Wrinkles where his skin had not yet caught up with the rapid loss of weight. He knew he looked like shit. Hell, he felt like shit. What had prompted Scott's sudden change of heart about his presence on the island? Why did he now feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation? What would he do when confronted with the daily presence of his sons after showing such weakness in front of them when he'd...when he'd what, lost his mind?

Jeff sighed as he made his way to the guest room he always used when visiting Bonga Bonga. He'd never had that talk with Alan about his last words to them all when he was certain he would die at the hands of the Hood. He hadn't talked about any of it to any of them. The building...the Hood...Ned Cook...he wondered briefly how Ned was doing in his search for the Hood before his thoughts strayed back to the rescue...to the building in Orlando sagging...bouncing back up...falling...Virgil being missing...

"No," he said aloud, pulling a suitcase out of the closet. "Not now." He pulled open the top drawer of a beautiful cherry wood dresser. "I've got a business to put back together."

For the first time in months, Jeff Tracy stood just a little taller.

The Hood stood back and surveyed his handiwork. Out here in the forest on the outskirts of the Murai Reservoir in Singapore, rescue equipment was nearly nonexistent. As soon as this disaster began, he knew it wouldn't be long before International Rescue would be called. They would come. They would save lives and land. And then they'd leave.

But won't make it home.

He turned to look at two squirming bundles lying on the ground nearby. They were wrapped in heavy burlap and bound with thick rope. Quite pleased with himself, Belah grinned as he took one last look around with his digital binoculars. Not only would this bring the Tracys right where he wanted them, but it also afforded him a grand opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

Well...three birds, actually. Or more, depending on how many were aboard those 'birds.

The bundles continued to squirm. Belah set the binoculars down on the seat of the Humvee and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a fancy old-fashioned lighter made of pure gold, flipped the lid open and struck the flint. A steady flame appeared. Belah stared at it for a moment as though mesmerized. He looked down as one bundle let out a particularly loud grunt.

"It will all be over soon," he said, his voice sounding sickeningly sweet. He looked back at the lighter for a few seconds more before throwing it to the ground.

As he drove away, a wall of flames filled the rearview mirror. "Good bye, Ned Cook." He smirked as he glanced at the Humvee's chronometer. "And in about an hour? Hello, Scott Tracy."

Scott looked up as the eyes in Alan's portrait beeped to life. He opened the comm channel. "Base receiving you, go ahead, Thunderbird 5."

"Scott, we've got a bad one in Singapore."

"Singapore? Not another tsunami..."

Alan shook his head. "No, fires. The forest surrounding the Murai Reservoir is ablaze. It seems the fire has circled around, completely enclosing the Farmway. We're told there are three people trapped; the locals can't get through to get them out."

"No helijets?"

"The only one within reach is out in Sri Lanka, and it's on a med run to Kuala Lumpur with an organ donation."

"Damn," Scott swore. And just when their father was on his way home, too. "All right, Alan, tell them we're on our way." Scott pressed the button that signaled an emergency to the rest of the island, and waited for them to arrive.

"Impeccable timing," he ground out. "I guess I'd better let Dad know."

"Sorry I had to leave your car behind, Penny."

"Pish-posh, Jeff. There's very little use for FAB One on an island."

He nodded in agreement as Tracy One soared higher into the atmosphere. In less than two hours, he'd be home. That line of thought abruptly ended when his watch comm lit up. "Jeff Tracy speaking," he said.

"Father, we're on our way out. We got a call for Singapore, apparently there are people trapped inside a ring of fire near the Murai Reservoir. I just wanted to let you know we won't be here when you get back."

"All hands out?"

"Yes, Sir."

"F.A.B., son. Be careful."

"I will, Dad."

"H'it never rains bu' i' pours," Parker offered from the rear seat of the jet.

Jeff's only response was to sigh. Within minutes, though, Penelope noticed his eyes trained firmly on the radar. "What is it, Jeff?"

"Something's coming at us from the east. And fast."

She peered out of the cockpit window. "I see it."

And then Jeff's face broke out into a grin. The first one she'd seen on him in longer than she could remember. "It's Scott," he said as the dot on the horizon grew nearer.

Sure enough, a couple minutes later Penny and Parker could see the sleek silver rocket plane heading right for them. It climbed higher until it was several thousand feet above their position. They watched as Thunderbird 1 made three rollovers before whooshing past them and out of sight.

Jeff felt a familiar warmth creep into his chest. Into his heart. An Air Force man's way of saying hello.

"We'll be there in about ninety minutes," he reported gruffly, effectively concealing the pride evident in his voice. That's my son. That's my 'bird. That's what we do.

Resolve. That's what Jeff had been lacking. Being away from his sons...from their home...from International Rescue – it had weakened the once steely resolve which seemed to be a Tracy genetic trait. Every waking minute consumed by the disaster. Every sleepless night spent searching for answers when he didn't even know the questions. Every day, another day away from those most important to him. Those who did what no one else on Earth could do.

He felt that resolve returning.

They've got their job to do. I've got mine.

Penelope watched, fascinated, as whatever Jeff was thinking seemed to change him right before her eyes. His face went from tired and anxious to alert and confident. A flutter in her belly made her shake slightly. Had she just witnessed Jefferson Tracy coming back to life?

She smiled and looked out the side of the large wraparound cockpit window as she, too, became excited. She only hoped the spark Scott's display had ignited wouldn't die as soon as they reached their destination.

If nothing else, he will know that I am here.

As if reacting to her unspoken thought, Jeff's hand found hers, squeezing it briefly before letting go to return to the steering yoke.

Penny's small glimmer of hope turned into an all-out fireworks display as the jet streaked through the sky. Her smile refused to leave even as she prayed the hope she felt wasn't premature. It wouldn't take much, she thought. Not much at all.

He watched. Watched Thunderbird 1 arrive and land. Watched her pilot get out and set up his Mobile Control unit. Watched as, some time later, Thunderbird 2 arrived. Magnificent 'birds. Magnificent equipment.

Disposable operators.

Belah could taste victory. He figured it wouldn't be too long before International Rescue had the situation well in hand and then they would be on their way. All his research; all the times he'd watched them leave rescues had taught him their patterns of flight. The two Thunderbirds always took off together, but due to the speed at which the first could travel, it always wound up quite a ways ahead of its sister ship.

That was exactly what Belah was counting on.

White smoke eventually replaced black as International Rescue and local authorities finally started getting the fire under control. He watched as Thunderbird 2 lowered a cage to pick up the three trapped Farmway workers and briefly wondered if the two bundles he'd left were still intact or not.

He could barely breathe. Between the burlap cloth restricting airflow and what he could only imagine to be smoke, not to mention the binding that wound right around his neck, Ned Cook quickly realized he didn't have much longer to live.

And that heat...at first he thought it might have been the sun warming him but then it became more intense to the point where he was finding it to be unbearable on his left side. He rolled to the right and bumped into something. He rolled against it again and it moaned.

Adi!

He grunted in response and heard her react. Now the heat was at his back. What on earth was happening?

That's when he heard it. The crackling and roaring.

Fire!

The bastard had brought them somewhere and started it on fire. But where were they? Then yet another sound reached his ears. Above the roar of fire consuming the area surrounding them came a high-pitched whine. A high-pitched whine that he...he recognized.

It's International Rescue!

He began yelling...or yelling as well as he could through a gag from inside the burlap wrap without much air. And moving...thrashing about on the ground. He could tell Adi had begun doing the same.

Bless that woman's intelligence.

He only hoped their efforts were not in vain. Burning to death was a nasty way to go.

"Scott, are you picking up anything unusual from the north end of the affected area?"

Scott checked and rechecked his sensors. "Actually, Virg, yeah, I am. It seems to be heat from the fire, but when the flames move..."

"...it remains in place. I'm seeing it, too."

"Gordon got a path through the ring of fire cleared just twelve feet from that. It's not far from where I'm set up."

"You going to check on it?"

"Soon as I suit up."

"All right. Careful."

"Always. Mobile Control out."

It took only a handful of minutes for Scott to pull a fire retardant suit on over his uniform, don the protective hood and head for the oddity Virgil had found. He wondered if perhaps it was some native animal injured by the blaze. He hoped not. He'd hate having to put the animal out of its misery. And it couldn't be people. The area surrounding the Murai Reservoir was government-owned land and as such, there were no civilians. The Farmway and the Save the Rainforest group had both accounted for personnel who were anywhere near the danger zone that day.

But then what could it be? An equipment malfunction? Hardly likely considering the attention to detail paid to Thunderbird machinery by both Brains and the Tracys.

Scott's hover bike quickly carried him to the area in question. At first he could see nothing but half-burnt trees and the singed remnants of once-tall grass. But as Thunderbird 2 pulled away, ferrying its rescued victims to safety, a different sound replaced that of her powerful engines.

Yelling.

Scott raised his wrist comm to his face. "Virg! My God, there are still people here!"

"What? But how? I thought they'd accounted for everyone!"

Scott's mouth pursed into a straight line. "Apparently not. I'm investigating further. Unload your passengers and land as close as you can to my position. I may need help."

"F.A.B."

"Mobile Control to Gordon."

"Hey, Scott, I was about to contact you. You're not at MC, where are you?"

"Virgil picked something odd up on his sensors. I'm having a look; it sounds like there are more victims."

"You need my help?"

"Don't think so. Virgil's coming back as soon as he drops off the others. I need you to stay on that south edge and protect the Farmway or its propane tanks'll blow sky high."

"F.A.B. We'll have it under control in about ten minutes."

"All right. Scott out."

He brought his bike to a stop and stepped off, straining his ears to hear the sounds he'd heard before. He pulled the hood from his head. "Hello?" he called out, hands cupped around his mouth. "Hello, can you hear me? Do you need help?"

The cries resumed, louder this time. Scott ran off in that direction and was more than shocked when his eyes located the source of the sounds. "My God!" he breathed. He ran and knelt down next to the first bundle. Whipping a small knife out of a pouch on his belt, he quickly cut through the ropes and unwound the burlap enough to reveal an olive-skinned Asiatic woman. She was beautiful, even as she gasped to take air into her lungs. The smoke surrounding them caused her to cough on the second breath. Scott quickly asked her if she was all right. She nodded, vigorously pointing to the bundle next to her.

Scott turned and cut the ropes to the second bound victim. It took slightly more time to unwrap that one, but at last Scott saw a crop of chestnut-colored hair appear and briefly thought how like Virgil's hair it looked. And then he pulled the cloth away.

His heart nearly stopped.

Oh, shit.

The man's eyes blinked open. His vision was fuzzy at first, but he soon realized the face above him did not belong to the Hood. He'd seen enough of that one to last a lifetime. As the face came into focus, Ned thought it seemed quite familiar.

"Come on!" the man who owned the face said brusquely. He felt his arm being grabbed. He was raised to his feet and he felt the remaining bonds being cut and torn away. The man stood back up and grabbed both his and Adi's hands, pulling them in a direction Ned assumed was the route to safety.

That's when he recognized the uniform.

"Inter...national...Rescue!" he blurted out as they ran.

He received no response. Good God, to be rescued by these people twice in one's lifetime? What a story!

As if his initial one wasn't going to be big enough.

"You...you have to help me..." he tried, but the IR operative paid no attention.

Scott lifted the woman onto the bike, keeping his face turned away from Ned as best he could. He motioned for Ned to get on behind her, then sat astride the seat and revved it up. They turned and made their back out to where Thunderbird 2 had just landed. Scott reached over and pressed a button on the side of his communicator. That would keep Virgil and John inside 2 for the moment. Away from Ned's prying eyes.

But still...Ned was nothing if not persistent. And he knew damn well who Scott Tracy was. If he saw him...Scott shook his head as the bike slowed to a stop. What could he do? He had to help them off, see if they needed medical attention...and find out why the hell they'd been tied up and left inside an area on fire to begin with.

"Please, help me," Ned repeated his plea. "I need a phone of some sort. I need to contact Jeff Tracy."

Scott started. Keeping his back to him, he asked, "Jeff Tracy? Why?"

"Because I've found the Hood." Scott was so surprised that he whirled around to face the man he'd just rescued. Ned nodded, his expression reminding Scott of the proverbial cat who ate the canary. "I thought I recognized you. Hello, Scott Tracy."

His face a mask of stone, Scott didn't respond.

"It is...Scott...isn't it? The eldest?"

"Ned, what the hell is going on here?"

"Adi, I have just uncovered the biggest story this world's ever seen. Even bigger than the identity of the Hood."

"Tracy...you mean the one whose building fell in New York?"

"The very same. Adi, this is Jeff Tracy's oldest son and apparently..." He eyed the patch on the uniform, the logo known worldwide as belonging to International Rescue. "One of the key members of the most secret organization in the world."

Scott's heart sank.

"What do you mean he knows who we are?" Jeff bellowed, his voice echoing in the empty Lounge. Things had been going well since he, Penny and Parker had returned to the island. Going well, that was, until Scott's call. "How in the hell could Ned Cook know our identities?"

"Because he knows me. Hell, he knows all our faces, Dad. It isn't too long ago he was there on the island."

Who the hell thought...why on earth would he have...what in God's name was I thinking letting that reporter and his pilot come here? Jeff's mind screamed at him.

And that's when it hit home. Under normal circumstances, Jeff would never...ever...have allowed someone like Ned on Tracy Island. Not with as much as he knew Ned covered International Rescue. Not with his steel-trap mind, not with the set of brass ones Ned sported. He thought nothing of getting in the faces of people such as himself, or the World President or anyone else, no matter how high up on the food chain or how sensitive their position.

I wasn't myself.

He saw Penny walk into the room, take in the look on his face and stop dead in her tracks.

Penny. The boys. My God, what have I done? Oh, my God. What have I done?

If Ned hadn't ever been to the island, he'd have been hard-pressed to recognize Jeff's eldest, especially in a situation such as the one in which Ned and his friend Adi had apparently found themselves. It was only because he'd been there...only because Jeff had brought him there...

He sank down into his chair as Penelope approached. "Jeff? What is it?"

"Father? What do you want me to do?"

Jeff shook his head. "Cook says he's found the Hood?" he asked, putting his head in his hands.

Scott's face showed every bit of the worry he was feeling for his father...for all of them. "Yes, but...we've tried everything, but he'll only talk to you."

Jeff sat up as straight as he could and cleared his throat. "Put him on."

Within seconds, Scott had moved away to be replaced by NTBS's star reporter, Ned Cook, who had the most smug look on his face that could be imagined.

"I knew you were hiding something, Tracy." Ned shook his head and let out a low whistle as he took a seat behind Mobile Control. "But I never imagined this." He looked into Jeff's eyes, the distance between Scott's video feed and Jeff's desk seeming to decrease rather uncomfortably for the man on the island. "It makes sense, though. It really does. Billionaire businessman with a giant company whose stock is privately held and therefore unmonitored...five sons who disappear from the public eye, their only accomplishments things that don't require them to be out where we can have access to them...and the island. Out in the middle of nowhere...simply brilliant. I'm assuming that somehow you hide your machinery there."

Jeff said nothing for a long while. His mind worked. He had to somehow be able to use this to his advantage. Ned knew where the Hood was, or so he said. But Ned also knew who they were.

Damn, damn, damn, damn!

"Mr. Cook, I understand that my son saved your life just now. And the life of someone close to you?"

Ned's eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"And that when you were found, you and that friend were...bound?"

"Yes."

"What, may I asked, happened to you? Why is it you were almost burned to death?"

The mention of his and Adi's close call made Ned sweat. Just a little, but Jeff saw the chink in his armor.

"Come, Mr. Cook. I run a rescue organization here, and when we rescue someone who says he found the Hood, and find that this rescue was necessary because the victim was left to die by an unnamed captor, you can't expect me not to ask questions."

Ned looked away briefly to where Scott was speaking with Adi as Gordon handed her a wet cloth to wipe the sweat and filth from her face. Adi...she'd almost died. They both had. And all because of the same person who'd killed hundreds of innocent people in New York. If Ned didn't talk now, Adi would never forgive him for allowing the bastard to stay out there on the loose.

He would never forgive himself.

When he turned back to face the camera, Ned had made his decision. "It was the Hood."

Jeff nodded solemnly.

"Two months ago I finally found Adi. She'd been taken from the Murai land and held hostage at the Hood's base. She managed to escape, but was almost recaptured in Sibu. That's when I, along with the men I'd hired, found them. We saved Adi and three others. The others fled, but Adi was injured. We took her to Kuala Lumpur, where she stayed for a week until they finally released her."

Jeff himself started feeling smug. Ned Cook had a weakness, and he'd found it.

"On our way out of the hospital we were kidnapped. Next thing I knew, I woke up hardly able to breathe, unable to move. Mr. Tracy, I don't mind telling you I haven't been that scared since...since..." Ned's resolve seemed to falter.

"Since when, Mr. Cook?" Jeff asked, knowing full well what the answer to that one was.

"Since the underground river," Ned whispered, wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

Jeff nodded. "If I'm not mistaken, Ned," he said softly, "International Rescue has saved your life twice now."

"I know that!" Ned snapped, a defiant fire returning to his eyes.

"You know, if we hadn't saved you in New York..."

"I would've died. You think I'm not aware of that? I thanked you on public television!"

"I heard. Actually, we were there, Ned. All of us. We were there that night for your show."

"If only I had known," Ned groaned, shaking his head.

"If only you had known? You would what...have outed us that night instead of thanking us?"

"Damn right, I would've!" Ned retorted hotly. "I'm a reporter, and the Tracy-International Rescue connection is the story of the century! I would be known forever as the man who uncovered your secret identities. Pulitzer, RYA, every damn award in existence would be mine."

"I think it's more along the lines of you'd be known as the man who killed hundreds of people. Maybe even thousands."

Ned frowned, clearly confused. "You're not making any sense."

"Ned, if we hadn't saved you in New York, you wouldn't have been alive when Adi needed you."

That got the reporter's attention. His head snapped up and he glared at Jeff.

"She would have died, Ned."

"How dare you-?"

Jeff held up a hand. "I'm not trying to use your friend against you. What I'm trying to do is point out that you were one life saved. You, in turn, have now saved a life yourself, years later."

Ned's mouth opened, then closed just as quickly.

"For every life we save, we don't know that we're not indirectly saving hundreds more, maybe thousands. A man we rescue from a burning building might just be a guy who drives a bus and keeps every kid on board from dying five years later. Had we not saved him, all those children might have been lost."

Ned began chewing on his lip. Jeff decided to change tactics.

"Ned, let's say you got on camera right now and did a live breaking news story about us. What's the first thing that would happen?"

Unable to look away from Jeff's countenance, Ned's reply was whispered. "People would go crazy, they'd storm your remaining offices, be trying to contact you. Every reporter, every human with a computer would be after anything they could get their hands on."

"That's right. But some of those people wouldn't be content simply knowing International Rescue was the Tracy family."

"No," Ned replied. "They'd want more. They'd want to interview you, to find out all they could about how you did it, and why."

"And what enables us to perform a lot of these rescues, Ned? You've been to so many of them, you must have some idea."

"The technology. The machines you have...they're incredible. Like...like Thunderbird 4."

Jeff nodded. "Yes, like Thunderbird 4. Like the technology that's making our conversation right now possible."

"That's what he wants!" Ned breathed. Jeff very nearly saw the light bulb zap on over his head. "Your technology! That is what the Hood's after!"

Jeff closed his eyes, giving silent thanks that he seemed to have gotten through. He reopened them to find Ned shaking his head. "And he knows who you are. That's why he blew up Tracy Tower. He was trying to get your machines, and he knew you were going to be in Manhattan that day...so he blew up the building to kill you and...it would've thrown things into even more chaos."

"Exactly," Jeff replied, leaning back in his chair.

Ned swallowed hard. He looked off-camera once more to where Scott was still speaking quietly with Adi, who'd been brought a chair to sit on. "I won't tell anyone, Mr. Tracy," he said firmly, turning back to look the older man in the eye. "I understand now that I can't."

Thank God! Jeff almost passed out from relief. Thank God! "But there is something I can do." Jeff leaned forward slightly. "I can help you find the Hood."

He rose to his feet and crossed the open Lounge floor. Slowly he approached the video feed. "I would be grateful if you would."

"Consider it done. On one condition."

Uh-oh.

"And that would be?"

"That you give me a crack at him."

Jeff was surprised by the venom in Ned's voice. "For kidnapping you?"

Ned shook his head. Jeff thought he'd never seen the man look this mean. "No. For raping Adi and..." He swallowed hard. "She's pregnant." Mentally reeling as though slapped in the face, Jeff immediately understood Ned's hatred of the man.

She was carrying the Hood's child.

Ned looked as though he might vomit.

"Deal," Jeff finally said. "First crack is yours."

With that, Ned nodded and left Mobile Control. Scott's familiar face returned. "Father?"

"Scott, Ned's going to help us find the Hood. You've got the fastest ship – get back here and pick me up."

"You're...coming out in the field?"

"You're damn right I am."

Scott looked as though he might protest, but snapped his mouth shut.

"Don't worry, son, I'm fine." Scott studied him. "I have to do this, Scott. I owe it to our employees."

Finally Scott nodded. "I'll be there in ninety minutes, Dad. Mobile Control out."

Jeff turned to Penelope. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"I don't imagine you're going to stick around here."

"You're damn right, Jeff Tracy."

Jeff smiled. "Then get ready. Scott will be here before you know it."

She peered into his eyes. For the first time in a long, long time...she liked what she saw.

Welcome back, Jeff. Welcome back.

He watched her disappear into the hall. It was because of me that all those people died. He turned and looked at his desk. It was because of me losing it that Tracy Corp's been slowly dying. He swiveled to face the wall of portraits. It was because of me that Ned knew Scott's identity.

Jeff walked out onto the balcony, admiring the beauty of the late afternoon sun sparkling on the water. I have to right this. Jeff knew if he could get the Hood once and for all...if he could publicly show that the Hood had repaid his debt to those he'd killed, it would refuel his corporation...refuel his desire to make everything work...that it would help, in however small a way, make him feel like he'd done something to make retribution for all the deaths in New York. It was all because of me. His muscles tensed as he prepared himself to come back to life.

"Now it will be because of me that the Hood pays for what he's done." He turned away from the Pacific. "Me and Ned Cook."

"Fools, what have they been waiting for?"

From his vantage point, Belah could tell that the Thunderbirds had lingered longer than usual, but not why. He wondered if one of the idiots had gone and gotten himself injured or killed and felt a pang of annoyance if the latter would turn out to be the case. After all, he was personally looking forward to picking them off one at a time. If he had his way, he'd work his way right up the ladder to Jeff Tracy himself, and see to it that his earlier mistake was corrected once and for all.

As Thunderbird 1's engines ignited, Belah put the mobile radar screen down and strapped himself into his own craft. He fired up her jets and was soon in the air, speeding toward the Murai Reservoir. "Eight hundred..." he droned, watching his airspeed. "Nine hundred...nearly there."

Had his hands not been on the steering yoke, Belah Gaat would have rubbed them together in glee.

"Thunderbird 2 to Thunderbird 1."

"Thunderbird 1 here."

"You picking up anything on your scanners?"

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure exactly, I thought I saw something."

Scott frowned. He knew Virgil well enough to know he wouldn't have bothered to call if his gut hadn't told him this was really important. Especially now. "Well, I'm not reading anything. What do you think you saw?"

There was a pause before Virgil continued. "That's odd. I thought I caught an aircraft taking off from the Tengah Airfield. For just a split second, it was there on my radar, but...well, it seems to have vanished."

Scott peered at his radar screen again. And again, saw nothing. "We'd better have Brains go over 2's radar system when we get back, just to make sure it isn't an equipment malfunction."

"I guess it was probably nothing," Virgil breathed. "See you when you get back, Scott."

"F.A.B. Thunderbird 1 out."

Scott leaned back in his pilot's chair, still staring at the radar. It wasn't like Virgil to see things, even when he was dead tired. Then again, it wasn't like the Thunderbirds to have malfunctioning scanners.

He wondered at the change in his father's demeanor...how he'd seemed a little more like the father Scott had grown up admiring and much less like the shell of a man he'd become after that fateful day.

Scott supposed he didn't blame his dad for shutting down. Hell, any other man would've cracked completely, given the circumstances. He firmly believed it was nothing less than the Tracy fortitude that had kept his father going to begin with. And now? He'd returned from Penny's only to decide he was coming out to go after the Hood.

He still wasn't sure about this. Dad seemed okay, but...with these things you never really knew, did you? How would Jeff react if they did find the Hood? If he came face-to-face with him again? He'd confronted him once. Only by sheer luck of timing had he not lost his life. Would he be able to handle it again? Or would he be lost to them forever? What would Jeff do?

He'll do what he always does, Scott, his inner voice reminded him. He'll handle it, overcome it and go on.

Handle. Overcome. Go on.

Scott mused that perhaps those words should replace IR's current motto. It wasn't a matter of giving up or not giving up. It was a matter of handling, overcoming and going on.

Before he could carry that thought further, his eye caught something strange on the radar screen. But he didn't even have a handful of seconds to determine what it was before his 'bird rocked violently and began spiraling out of control.

Belah fairly cackled with unabated joy as he swooped up and around in a loop before heading back down for where Thunderbird 1 was taking a nosedive straight into the Pacific. He let loose with another round of automatic weaponry. Unnecessary, really, but satisfying.

"Selamat tinggal, Scott Tracy."

He pushed a button on the device he wore on his right arm. And just like that, he and his ship disappeared.

"Scott!" Virgil cried. "God, what the-Scott! Scott, come in!" Virgil slammed a hand down on his console. "Thunderbird 2 to Base! Thunderbird 1 has dropped from radar – I repeat, Thunderbird 1 has dropped from radar!"

"What? Virgil, what the hell's going on?"

"I don't know, he was there and then suddenly he lost altitude! I don't have him on my scanners anymore!"

John and Gordon stood behind Virgil's pilot chair, hands gripping it so hard their knuckles turned white.

"Where is he?" John whispered.

"I'm taking off. Get them ready."

Without a word, the brothers left to prepare their guests for travel. Within two minutes, Virgil got the all-clear signal from Gordon that Ned and Adi were secure in the pod. Seconds later, John and Gordon returned to the cockpit and strapped in. Virgil ignited the VTOLs and was airborne in no time. He aimed 2 in the direction Scott had been traveling.

He kept trying to raise him.

Nothing but static.

His chest tightened. He could barely breathe.

Scott.

It was nothing. 2's equipment malfunctioning, like Scott had said.

Scott...

John and Gordon exchanged a look. John raised his watch to his face. "Alan, this is John. Come in."

"Gone?" Alan's normally rather deep voice had turned into something resembling a squeak. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Can you pick him up, Al?"

"I don't have anything...wait...wait, there! I've got him, Virg, I've...oh...oh, my God. No. No!"

"Alan, what's going on? For God's sake!" John cried.

"He just...John, he...Thunderbird 1 just crashed into the Pacific." John watched, unable...or unwilling...to believe his little brother's words. "There's no...GPS...I'm not..."

"Al?" Gordon whispered, looking over John's shoulder.

"5 isn't picking him up. As soon as 1 hit, his...his signal disappeared."

Gordon looked up in time to see Virgil's entire body go rigid.

"No," Jeff stumbled back, slamming into the settee as he stared at the feed from 2. Virgil was strangely calm, as though he'd just told his father nothing more than the latest baseball scores.

You're the one who ordered him back to pick you up, Jeff.

Penelope stood right in front of him, but suddenly he could no longer see her. The Lounge faded from his vision until all he could see was the face of his eldest. He saw him digging him out from under the Tower...saw him as he stood right here trying to tell him what he did not want to hear...as he sat on the vid phone asking Jeff to come back home.

We need you back here. We can't do this alone.

Scott...it just couldn't be.

"Father, I'm nearing the area now..."

"Jeff! Jeff, are you all right?"

"Father, there's no...my God..."

"Jeff!" Penelope grabbed him by he shoulders and shook him.

Ruth entered the room with Kyrano by her side. She gently took Penny's had and pulled her away as Kyrano knelt down in front of Jeff. He took his employer's head in his hands and looked directly into his eyes.

"Jeff, you must return to me," he said softly. "Your Scott still lives. He lives, Jeff."

Scott's not...he can't be...

"Jeff, listen to me. Hear my voice."

Scott!

"Scott is alive, Jeff. He is alive. Listen to me. Listen!"

Scott's...alive...wait. Alive?

"Yes, Jeff. He's alive. He needs you now more than ever."

Alive...alive...

Jeff felt as though he'd awakened from a hundred-year sleep. He blinked his eyes open. Seeing the soft, kind features of Kyrano's face, he reached up and grasped his shoulder, bending his head forward to collect himself.

When at last he rose, Kyrano came up with him. "Thank you, my friend," he said, though he felt those words to be wholly inadequate.

Kyrano merely nodded and moved away.

"Virgil! Report!"

Virgil's stricken face turned toward the camera. "I have a visual on the remains of Thunderbird 1," he responded. "There is a half-mile area of debris. Assumption is the mass of her's gone underwater."

"And we don't have Pod 4," he heard Gordon say.

"Kyrano, you said he's still alive." His old friend nodded. "Do you know where?"

"No, Jeff. I only know that he is not dead."

"Virgil, I need you to find him and figure out what happened to cause this crash."

"I've got him!" John crowed so loud from just behind Virgil it made the Lounge speakers vibrate. "He's alive! He's just north of our position!" John laughed. "He's alive!"

Virgil was like a balloon that suddenly lost its air as he visibly deflated in the chair. Tears filled his eyes as he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. This was not helped by the fact that everyone on the island had matching tears in their eyes, including Tin-Tin, who had joined them at her father's side.

"Pick him up, son," Jeff said, wrapping his arm around Penelope as she came to stand next to him. "Pick him up and get your asses back here as fast as you can."

"But...what about the Hood, Father?"

"He's not worth any more lives," Jeff said. "His time will come."

"F.A.B. I'll report again as soon as Scott's safely on board."

"What do you mean you were shot down?" Virgil asked as he went about setting Scott's broken arm.

"I'm telling you, Virg. This ship, it...it appeared out of nowhere-aaaaa!" he grunted as Virgil set the bone.

"Sorry."

"S'okay," he groaned as Gordon pushed the metal splint under his forearm. He watched as Virgil secured it with med tape. Beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. "I...there was barely enough time to think, Virg," he gasped as they pushed him back onto the bed and started the medical scanner above his head.

"How exactly did you get out?" Gordon asked.

"I used my laser pistol to blow one of my windows out and jumped at about fifty feet up."

"Well, that would explain your broken bones," Virgil said.

"I don't think I remember hitting."

"You mean, you fainted?"

If Scott's arm worked, he'd have punched him. "Passed out."

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, you try staying conscious when you're spiraling out of control toward the big blue and all you have is a tiny life raft and you're trying to squeeze out a viewing window with it going so fast it makes you want to hurl!"

"You are one crazy sonofabitch, you know that?"

"I'm one alive sonofabitch, no thanks to whoever that was. How could you not have seen him, Virg?"

"I swear to you, Scott," Virgil said, his relief mingling with concern. After all, whoever or whatever had shot Scott down could very well be coming back. How were they to defend themselves against something that came and went without registering on their radars?

"Wait..." Virgil sat back, his hand still firmly grasping Scott's. "Wait just one damn minute," he whispered, seeming to look inward for a memory. "That blip."

"Blip?"

"From the radar. You remember, Scott," Virgil's voice belied his excitement. "The one I saw briefly, the one that took off from Tengah."

Scott's eyes widened. "The one that disappeared as soon as it took off."

"Yes! That must've been...my God, that must've been whoever did this to you!"

"But...but where did he go? He couldn't escape our radar; we can detect anything with these babies."

Virgil rose to his feet. "I need to call Dad. Now."

"Virg?" Scott watched him go before laying his head back on the pillow. "Gordo, keep an eye on him, would you? I'll..." His voice seemed to fade. "I'll get up there in a sec..."

With that, Scott was out.

"We're only twenty minutes out, Dad, but I think Brains needs to get on this right away."

"I already buzzed the Lab, he should be here shortly."

"I can't explain it, but that blip I saw...my gut is telling me Scott's getting shot down has something to do with it. It must."

"I'd have to agree given what little we know so far." Jeff turned as his engineer entered the room. "Ah, Brains. Thanks for coming."

"Uh...sure. Wh-what's up, Mr. Tracy?"

"It's Scott. He was shot down."

"What?"

"He's okay," Jeff said. "But Virgil's got a strange tale to tell, and we need your help unraveling it."

"O-Okay. What's the situation, uh, Virgil?"

"Well, Brains..."

"Hey, what the-what is that?" It was John's voice. "Holy...Virg, bank left now! Now!"

They saw Thunderbird 2 tilt substantially as Virgil checked his console. "That's it!" he cried, pointing to the radar screen. "That's the same one as before!"

Right before the horrified eyes of those on Tracy Island, Thunderbird 2 was rocked by an explosion. Sparks flew from everywhere in the cockpit, the console spitting and hissing as Virgil tried desperately to keep her steady.

"Father! We're under attack! I repeat, we're under att-!"

2's feed winked out.

Jeff could do nothing but stare at the empty channel which no longer received a signal. When the system righted itself by cutting off the lost communication and replacing it with Virgil's portrait, it was like a sucker punch to his stomach.

All eyes were turned on him.

But he couldn't tear his eyes from Virgil's smiling face.

Or his thoughts from the worst.