The Hood cursed his fortune yet again. Or, in this case, misfortune.

He'd been nearly beside himself when he'd shot Thunderbird One down. Only to return with the expectation that Thunderbird Two would very quickly follow her predecessor into the ocean's depths, where already a team of his most highly-skilled scientists and divers were going about recovering One's wreckage, and the secrets the Hood had prized for so long.

And then what had happened? Thunderbird Two not only hadn't gone down right away, she'd fired on him and he'd had to bail. At that very moment, Belah Gaat was sincerely wishing he had a slave nearby to strangle, just for the sheer satisfaction of taking out his current frustrations.

Now he floated helplessly on the vast Pacific in an inflatable yellow raft with no sustenance – which didn't really bother him – and no way to get to either crash site – which did bother him.

He also cursed the loss of that which had made this quasi-victory of his possible. Upon ejection, the device he wore on his arm, the one which enabled his travel through dimensions, had been ripped away, nearly taking his forearm with it.

And he didn't have a damn radio. Things were bleak.

Bleak, that was, until a ship appeared in the distance. With the rays of the setting sun at his back, he could not make out precisely what type of ship it was. It didn't really matter. Whoever was aboard, he'd simply play the stranded victim, allow himself to be rescued and promptly take it over.

Simple, but effective.

Although, judging from the helijet activity he'd witnessed not too long ago, he wondered if he'd actually get the satisfaction of seeing the dead bodies of International Rescue's so-called heroes.

Well, if he didn't, at least he'd have the Thunderbirds. And that was all he needed. That and his inter-dimensional device, which he would send his divers to retrieve as soon as he commandeered the ship headed his way.

He looked again toward the horizon, where the ship had grown closer. It wasn't just any ship. A yacht!

How fitting.

Kyrano sat quietly as Ruth continued watching the screen. She saw two blips which represented the Lady and her butler, but no other indications of...wait...wait a moment.

"Kyrano!" she gasped. He rose and came to stand next to her. "Look!" she said, pointing to a blue-green blip on the monitor.

"Another sign of life," he breathed. He closed his eyes for a moment. Slowly his brow furrowed.

"What? Is it Virgil? Can you tell?"

"It...does not appear to be Virgil, no. It...strange, I cannot...oh...oh, no..." Kyrano's eyes popped open. He grabbed the back of Ruth's chair. His body stiffened. Ruth watched as her friend crumpled to the floor in a heap, writhing and crying out as though in pain. "No!" he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "No!"

"Kyrano!" Ruth knelt on the floor next to him. "Kyrano! It's me, Ruth! Please!" But it was no use, she realized, as his back arched up off the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head before closing, and finally he went limp. "Don't leave me here alone, Kyrano," she pleaded in whispered tones, smoothing the dampened hair off his forehead. "Please don't leave me."

"It is you! My own brother!" Belah cried out in glee. "And you are there with...splendid. Just splendid." With only his foolish half-brother and Jeff Tracy's elderly mother on board, the ship would be his in no time.

He wondered briefly at the lunacy of sending two weaklings into the open seas on what was undoubtedly a fully-outfitted luxury yacht, supposedly to try and help those who'd crashed thanks to him...but carried the thought no further. His goal was in sight. Within twenty minutes at the most, he and the ship would cross paths.

"See you soon," he ground out. "Brother."

Virgil had wished himself to the island what, hours ago? Days ago? Weeks ago? He couldn't be sure. Time seemed to have no meaning in death. He'd taken to walking through walls into his various family members' rooms, noticing things were much was different than he remembered.

Granted, he hadn't been into Gordon's, Alan's, John's or Jeff's bedrooms in some time, but where was Gordon's WASP memorabilia? Where were Alan's racing trophies? Where were the copies of John's books he'd written, and why did Jeff's bedroom look like an Air Force bunker rather than an actual bedroom?

And then there was Scott's room.

Of all the differences he noted, the ones here were the most upsetting. The picture of him and Virgil as little boys, the one that usually sat on the desk in his sitting room, wasn't there. The suite, much like Jeff's, was austere and sparsely decorated. There was no display of Air Force certifications, and the two pictures Virgil had painted for him were gone.

But it was the photo on the bedside stand that intrigued and somehow disturbed Virgil the most. It was an 8x10 of a beautiful woman with long, blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her lips were curved into a mischievous smile, her hands coupled and resting beneath her chin. He wished like hell he could take it out of the frame to see if anything was written on the back of it. Who was this woman? Virgil couldn't recall ever having seen her before. And why did Scott have her picture next to his bed?

Continuing his search of the island, he frowned as he entered his grandmother's bedroom, for it didn't look like a room that anyone used. It was beautifully decorated, but was missing the antique furniture his grandma had insisted upon, missing all the family photos she had displayed throughout her suite and missing the old family heirloom quilt that always adorned her bed.

Next door, he found the same to be true of Kyrano's room. There was no way it could be Kyrano's room at all. Decorated in the style of his traditional Malay ancestry, Kyrano's bedroom had a bed that was only half the height of your typical American bed. He always had incense and candles burning everywhere. He'd never had an awful lot of furniture, but there had been a simple desk and chair in his sitting room, along with the large mat Kyrano used for exercise and meditation.

But now, as he walked into that outer room, he found it contained a sofa, a rolltop desk with chair and a large floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with books that looked as though they'd never been read. The picture Virgil had painted for Kyrano, of the village he'd lived in as a child, was also missing. Nothing...nothing at all...was the same.

He found a similar situation in Tin-Tin's room. The lavish pinks and lavenders, laces and frills that made up Tin-Tin Kyrano's very female room were gone. Again, it looked as though this were merely a guest suite, not the familiar, perfumy telltale woman's bedroom it should've been.

And then there was the Lounge. While Virgil's travels told him that Brains' laboratory and bedroom suite were pretty much the same as he remembered...and that Thunderbird 2's hangar, 3's silo and 1's launchpad were all the same...the Lounge most definitely was not. For one thing, the portraits on the wall were not the digital images of Virgil's paintings that he remembered. They were actual digital photographs. But that wasn't the worst part of it.

Virgil was not there.

His spot on the wall had been taken by that...that man who couldn't possibly exist. By Ben. It was Ben who wore the yellow sash, Ben whose face smiled out from between Scott's and Alan's photos. Ben who held his place in the family and the organization that had once been Virgil's. He'd noticed it in every family photo he'd seen. There wasn't a single one with Virgil – only Ben. In John's room, lots of the photos seemed to be of John and Ben as kids, then as teenagers, then as adults. There was even one of the two of them in uniform together, standing at the base of Thunderbird 3.

Virgil wondered if he'd been so bad in life that he'd been sent to Hell. For what worse eternity could he spend than one in which he was forced to watch someone else live his life? Interact with his family? Pilot his 'bird?

But where was this Ben, anyway? In the hospital, there had been phone calls and communications via comm, but Ben hadn't actually shown up in person. In frustration, Virgil had "transported" himself to Tracy Island to try and learn more about what was going on. But a thorough search there turned up no one at all, save a small canary singing beautifully in Scott's bedroom, untouched by the confusion and death that hung over Virgil's mood.

So this was death. This was his purgatory. However many good deeds he had performed as a member of International Rescue had evidently not made up for whatever God thought he'd done so badly that he deserved this Hell. He supposed that he didn't really need to hang out around his family members. Indeed, he probably could just wander the Earth – and maybe he'd come across other dead people, at least have someone to talk to – but down in his heart, Virgil knew he couldn't leave them.

If his inability to tear himself from those he loved meant he had to watch people who didn't seem to know him, then so be it. Except...someone did know him. What had Scott's words been?

Say hi to Mom, Father. And...to Virgil.

His baby brother, he'd said...say hi to mom...and to...

"To me," he breathed. He walked into what had once been his bedroom, but was obviously no longer. He looked at the walls and found many certificates in which Benjamin William Tracy had won, of all things, vocal competitions. "He's a singer," Virgil said in wonder. "I was the musician," he continued more softly. There was a huge keyboard in one corner, and a mixer and sound-recording equipment nearby. In addition, a master's degree hanging on the opposite wall proclaimed Ben to be a professional geologist, punctuated by the various beautiful and sometimes strange rocks, crystals and geodes on several bookshelves and stands.

Well, Dad, maybe you're finally getting to meet my little brother.

Say hi to Mom, Father. And...to Virgil.

Virgil sat down on the floor in the middle of Ben's room. His head was spinning. And he was depressed. Being dead wasn't the worst of it. Seeing his father die wasn't even the worst of it. It was what Scott had said, and what he himself had found here on the island that had taken its toll.

"My little brother," he whispered, moving to stretch himself out on the floor. "Say hi to Mom."

His eyes widened and he was sitting bolt upright in an instant.

"That's it," he breathed. "That's what's going on. It wasn't Ben...it was me!"

Virgil thought back to the one and only time his father had ever talked of the child named Ben. Scott and Virgil were young when their mother became pregnant a third time. Neither of them remembered anything about it, but Jeff told Virgil late one night that they'd been thrilled to find out they were having twins. Lucille had set about finding just the right names for them – astronaut names, of course – while Jeff wondered how on Earth they were going to deal with two toddlers and two newborns all at once.

There was a short list of names to choose from, and after much discussion, Jeff and Lucy had decided on John, after astronaut John Glenn, and Benjamin, middle name of Bill Lenoir, one of the first astronauts to distribute commercial satellites into space. Bill and Jeff had known one another at NASA for a few years, and Jeff had recalled Bill saying that if he'd ever been given the chance to name himself, he'd have switched his first and middle names. Jeff thought naming one of the twins Benjamin would be a fitting homage to a man he admired very much.

But what no one knew until Lucy actually went into labor, until the first baby began to crown...was that something was terribly, terribly wrong with the tiny boys. They'd grown fused at the chest, sharing a single heart. Jeff and Lucille had a terrible decision to make. Both babies couldn't survive with only one heart. It had to be one...Ben...or the other...John.

The doctors had made their decision a bit easier by giving them some statistics for survival. According to the lead neo-natal surgeon on hand, Ben had a thirty-five percent chance of survival. But John's chances, were the heart to be given to him, were much higher at seventy percent. Either way, the Tracys knew the boys could both die – and knew for certain they'd lose one no matter what they decided.

And so they made a choice no parent should be confronted with. Save John and say good-bye to baby Benjamin, whom they'd known for all of perhaps three or four hours. Virgil had gathered that the time had been hardest on Lucille, who'd bought two of everything, who'd been planning and looking forward to having two babies to feed and love and rock to sleep. The baby had been cremated, his ashes spread out over the Gulf of Mexico.

Jeff's last remark on the matter came to Virgil now.

"Right up until the day she died, Lucy never forgot little Ben – the baby that never had the chance to live."

So...here was Ben. Virgil was being given the opportunity to see the baby who never had the chance to live not only as a grown man...but as someone who'd taken over his own life. He shrugged as he looked around the room. Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. This was, after all, one of Virgil's younger brothers. One he'd never gotten to meet.

But who would go to all the trouble of setting up a special Hell for Virgil in which John's twin hadn't died at all, but had lived? And a Hell in which Virgil himself had apparently been the one to die? Did God really care that much to torture him? And what had he done in life that had been so wrong as to warrant this? What had he done that the Devil was being allowed to have his way?

Virgil almost wished there was fire and brimstone. At least then, he'd know what exactly was the cause of his pain. But this? In this afterlife? Virgil didn't understand one damn thing.

He laid down on the floor, head in the crook of his arm, and closed his eyes. All he could see before him was that picture of him and Scott as little kids, Virgil's diaper sagging off his rear as the two played in the front yard of their home in Kansas. A picture that was no more. And the brother who didn't seem to be the man Virgil remembered. Something about Scott frightened him. And not being able to talk to him?

"Scott," he whispered, balling himself into a fetal position. He swallowed hard, the picture refusing to leave his mind. "Oh, Scott..."

"Thunderbird 5 to Lady Penelope."

"Lady Penelope here," Penny said into her dive helmet's built-in communicator.

"Yes! I got through!"

"Alan? I thought we had a dark situation at hand."

"We did, Penny, but suddenly whatever was jamming our signal stopped, so I thought I'd give it a try. How...how are you doing in locating Virgil?"

"Not well, I'm afraid. We managed to open the pod and search it, but there's no sign of him anywhere, nor are we finding anything underwater. I was just getting ready to head back to the yacht. How is everyone else?"

"They're still in the military hospital near Townseville. Dad came out of surgery fine. I guess when he and Scott fell back into the cockpit, Dad broke a vertebrae, the C5. They were able to get him breathing again and think they've stabilized the vertebrae, but until he wakes up, no one will know."

Penelope bit her lip. "But...he'll live."

"Yeah, Penny. He'll live."

She smiled, swallowing the lump in her throat. "And what of the others?"

"Scott's a mess. I think he's got upwards of thirty broken bones or more, all told. Gordon was relatively uninjured, a few bumps and bruises from when Dad got him out of Two. John's got some broken and cracked ribs and a broken leg, but he'll be fine."

Penelope motioned for Parker to follow her to the surface. "Well, I'm definitely relieved to hear all that. What of Mr. Cook and his friend?"

"I'm told they're both in stable condition, no major injuries reported."

"Very well, Alan, thank you for the report. I do appreciate it. Now, have you checked in with Mrs. Tracy and Kyrano aboard Tracy Six?"

"No, not yet. I was...I just wanted to know if you'd...you know..."

"I'm sorry, Alan. I truly wish I had more to report. Perhaps Tin-Tin has found something in Thunderbird Four."

"I'll give her a try first, then I'll get on with Grandma. You say you're heading back to Six now?"

"Yes, Alan. We should be topside within fifteen or twenty minutes. Lady Penelope out."

"Where could 'e be, milady?" Parker asked as the two began swimming up through the ocean's depths. "'e can't just 'ave disappeared."

"I don't know, Parker. Unless Tin-Tin has found something, it would appear that's exactly what Virgil has done. Disappear."

What was it Kyrano had said? He didn't think Virgil was dead, just...gone? Penny set her jaw. She refused to even try to understand what that meant. After all, it was possible that Tin-Tin had found him...or something that would tell what had happened to him. She clung to that hope as they continued on towards the surface.

Tin-Tin had indeed found something. But it hadn't been the something she was hoping to find.

Having exhaustively searched the entire area beneath Thunderbird Two, yet finding no trace of Virgil, Tin-Tin had thought to head back along the zigzag path Two had traveled after having been hit. She'd nearly made it to One's debris field when she realized she was not alone down there.

There were divers, equipment, miniature subs and underwater haulers everywhere. Large floodlights illuminated what she could see was the remainder of Thunderbird One's main fuselage. It had settled precariously atop an underwater mountain, and divers were flitting into and out of it, as well as all around it. She saw the flashes of underwater welding equipment being used and watched as two of the divers pulled what looked to be part of One's tail through the water and deposited into a hauler.

The long and short of it was, someone was stealing what was left of Thunderbird One. She'd been trying to raise Alan on a secure channel, but her transmissions were still not getting through. What could she do? She supposed she could charge in there with guns blazing and take them all out American cowboy-style.

But that wasn't really Tin-Tin's way. Besides, she didn't know who these people were. What's to say there wasn't a bigger sub somewhere just waiting to have a crack at anyone who tried to stop this operation? But by the same token, Tin-Tin knew what Jeff Tracy would say if he were here.

"We can't let that technology fall into enemy hands."

She frowned. That might be what he'd say. But what would he do?

At that moment, her radio crackled to life, scaring the daylights out of her. She stifled a shriek as Alan's voice wafted through the cockpit to her ears.

"Thunderbird 4 from Thunderbird 5. Are you reading me, Tin-Tin?"

"Yes, loud and clear, Alan. Warn a girl before you call, would you?"

"Sorry, Tin-Tin." Alan replied with a hint of humor. "I've been in contact with the hospital and everyone looks to be coming out of things okay, for the most part. I've also spoken with Lady Penelope. She and Parker haven't found any sign of Virgil." Alan hesitated. Tin-Tin knew what he wanted to ask. "Have...have you found...?"

"No, Alan," she shook her head sadly at the despondent tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, but I didn't see anything. No sign of Virgil whatsoever. But Alan, we have another problem besides Virgil being missing."

"Another problem? What is it?"

"Someone's taking Thunderbird One, Alan. And I don't think there's much I can do about it."

The first thing Virgil was aware of was a loud rumbling. It shook him to his very marrow, but as he blinked his eyes open, he knew what it was – Thunderbird 3 was taking off. Forgetting everything, he jumped to his feet.

"Why didn't I hear the klaxon?" he cried, looking wildly around the room. The room that wasn't his.

Oh. Yeah. Right.

He headed to the Lounge, wondering who it was that had taken off in Three. The place seemed deserted. Well, it couldn't have been Scott – Virgil was certain he wouldn't be back in action for weeks. Gordon, maybe? But Gordon had never logged a helluva lot of time in Three. In fact, just last week Virgil had been ribbing him about the fact that they'd all be up shit's creek if somehow everyone but Gordon became incapacitated and somebody needed to get Al off Five.

Virgil frowned. "But...Alan wasn't on Five...when I woke up, he was at the helm of Two." He turned and looked up at the portraits on the wall. "But he couldn't have been there. Goddammit, he couldn't have been!"

The frown turned to a scowl. Anger burned in his belly. Anger at whatever this whole damn thing was about. At the bastard who swooped in from nowhere and shot Scott down, then came after Thunderbird Two. Who the hell was he? Why had he done it? Anger for waking up to find he wasn't really there, even though he was. Anger at not having seen any other dead people he could talk to. Anger that his father...as true and real a hero as any man Virgil could name...had died saving his sons' lives. And that Jeff, once gone, had not appeared to him. If he had his father to talk to...well, things may have been easier to handle, if not swallow.

The scowl melted as Virgil's face contorted. The slow-burn rose into his chest like molten lava, bubbling and gurgling, threatening to burst forth at any second.

Anger. His vision blurred as he pictured the Scott he'd seen. Of course Scott looked haunted and like only half the man Virgil had known. Virgil had always been his older brother's confidante. The one person who could bring him out of his funks, the one person he would talk to...once Virgil had cajoled it out of him, that was. So who had this Scott confided in all these years? From the look of him, Virgil guessed no one. It was no wonder he looked like death warmed over.

And now...with their father gone, with 1 and 2 gone...what would happen to Scott? "Without me there, what will he do?"

Desertion? Psychological implosion?

Suicide?

"No," Virgil growled, shaking his head. "I can't let things be this way. I just can't!"

The anger rose higher and higher. His face turned beet red, his eyes wild as he desperately tried to figure out what he could do.

"I'm not dead!" he yelled, running out onto the balcony overlooking the pool. "You hear me? I'm not fucking dead!"

But he couldn't feel the breeze on his face and indeed walked right off the balcony into thin air.

Yeah, right, if you're not dead, how is it you're walking up here like it's no big deal?

"I am not dead," Virgil fumed, wishing he had something...anything...to pick up and throw. "I am not dead." His inner voice taunted him.

Yes you are, yes you are.

"No, goddammit, I am not dead! NOT DEAD! You hear me?" his face turned toward the heavens. "You hear me! I won't let you do this to them. I won't!"

But what can you do?

"Come back. I can come back."

It's been too long.

"My body. I have to find my body."

But how?

Virgil's eyes widened and he very nearly smiled. Nodding his head, he said, "I wish I was with my body." Nothing happened. His frown returned. "I said, I wish I was with my body."

He didn't move. He was still suspended in mid-air over the swimming pool.

"I wish I was on the roof." In a flash, he was standing atop the villa's roof. "I wish I was in the boathouse." He blinked his eyes and there he was in the boathouse. "I wish I was with Scott." Another blink and he was standing at Scott's bedside in the military hospital. He looked down at his sleeping brother as he said, "Now. I wish I was with my body."

Nothing. He was still there.

Virgil's mind worked and worked, the wheels turning overtime, gears grinding over, around and through this problem.

"No matter where I ask to go, I'm taken. Except...except to my body."

Virgil looked down as Scott mumbled something in his sleep. His face fell as he noticed yet again how terrible Scott looked.

"I don't understand. God, Scott, I wish you were here. I bet you could figure this out."

I can touch nothing. I can transport anywhere I want except to my own body.

Virgil continued to stare at Scott's face.

Nobody seems to realize I'm missing, but you seem to think that Dad can say hi to both Mom and me, which means as far as you're concerned, I'm already dead.

Scott's chest continued to rise and fall.

And instead of me ever having been part of our family, it was Ben. Ben didn't die.

Virgil shook his head. "That still doesn't explain why I can't get to my own body. Maybe it doesn't work on the dead?" He looked up and said, "I wish I were with my father's body."

Seconds later, he returned, his face a bit whiter than before. He looked down at Scott. "Crash that theory, it did work."

But then why not on Virgil?

Ben. No Virgil.

Alan piloting 2.

No body to go back to.

Virgil's eyes widened. "No body," he whispered. "Then either I was completely disintegrated or..." His jaw snapped close for a moment before he spoke again. "I wish I was in Thunderbird 2."

Just that fast he was taken to the cockpit of Thunderbird 2, which now sat on a small stretch of underwater mountains. She was still upside-down. He walked back through the empty sick bay and into the pod. The pod John hadn't been able to get loose before they'd crashed.

Everything inside Pod 2 was in a shambles. Virgil searched high and low, but saw no sign that he'd ever been in there. And indeed, his memory told him he'd never left the cockpit. Which was where he'd awakened. But something niggled at the back of his head...what was it? It had something to do with that last thought.

"I never left the cockpit." There it was again, that strange tingling in the back of his brain. He headed back up to the cockpit and surveyed the scene in the little light the ocean offered. "Wait...when I woke...we were still upright." He squeezed his eyes shut. What else, what else?

"We were still upright and...everyone had passed out but me. And at the hospital, Gordon and John were still unconscious, with Alan just barely starting to come around." He turned in a 360-degree circle. "Why were they all unconscious? Ned and Adi, too." Sure, a rough landing might've knocked Adi out, and maybe even Ned. And John made sense, he'd been thrown around trying to get the pod loose.

But Gordon and Alan? If they'd been there, both of them wouldn't have passed out. They wouldn't have!

"When I woke up, we were still upright, they were passed out, I could see it in the light...the light!" Virgil looked down. Below his feet was the open hatch that was atop 2's cockpit. "The hatch!" he breathed. "When I woke up, the hatch was open!"

That was it. That was it!

"I wasn't in the cockpit when we crashed!" he crowed. "I was the only one not strapped in – I must've been sucked out of the hatch on impact! That explains it!" He almost laughed. "Okay, so if I was sucked out of the cockpit, I would've pretty much gone vertical, which means I would've come back down right on top of Two. I wish I were on the ocean floor."

He blinked and found himself on the sand below Two's precarious mountain-top position. He ran around in ever-growing concentric circles. Granted, it was pretty dark down here, but surely he'd have seen the yellow from his sash or the glint of his wristwatch. And they weren't really that deep. Looking up, Virgil could see the sunlight refracted in the ocean.

"I'm not here," he said aloud. "My body isn't here."

And it wasn't on board Two.

"I wish I was with Scott."

He looked down at his brother, who seemed to be stirring from his deep sleep. He was mumbling, but Virgil couldn't understand the words. "My body isn't there, Scott," he said, wishing that of all times, his older brother could hear him right now. "My body wasn't found, it isn't anywhere. They don't know me...you don't know me. You only know Ben. And Alan was piloting Two. What if...what if I'm..."

"Not dead!" Virgil jumped back a good three feet as Scott sat bolt upright in bed and yelled again. "Not dead! Not dead!"

"Mrs. Tracy!" Penelope gasped as she ran onto the bridge. She knelt next to both Ruth and Kyrano, who was still lying prone in Ruth's arms. "What happened?"

"He had another attack," Ruth replied. "I haven't been able to wake him."

"Did he say anything?" Penny asked, opening his eyelids and checking his pulse.

"Only the word 'no,'" she said. "I think he sensed someone, but it...oh, my God!"

"What?"

"Milady?"

"Parker, one moment, please. Mrs. Tracy? What is it?"

"There on the screen!" Ruth indicated where Parker was standing just behind her. "I saw another heat source, and Kyrano was trying to figure out if it was Virgil when he collapsed. I...I completely forgot, I was so worried about Kyrano!"

"It's all right, Mrs. Tracy." Penny rose and joined Parker at the monitor. "Good heavens, there is another life sign!" she exclaimed.

"Milady, h'if I'm not mistaken, 'ooever this is, h'is right 'ere on the yacht."

"You are correct," came a sinister voice from behind them. "Do not turn around, or you will all die. Now raise your hands."

Penny's eyes met Parker's. They were still in their wet suits and therefore had no weaponry close by. And there was Ruth and Kyrano...they were defenseless. Silently, Penelope and her butler agreed there was nothing they could do right now but comply. Slowly their arms raised into the air.

"Good. Now, keep your backs to me. Lady, you first, move backward towards me. Very slowly. No tricks or the old woman dies."

Penny cast a glance down to where Ruth clung to Kyrano's limp form, not even daring to look up. She moved backward as instructed, her brain racing to come up with a way out of this. Without knowing what type of weapon the intruder had, however, she couldn't be certain any tactic she used would work.

"Old woman, move away from him. Get over to that chair."

Ruth finally looked up to find a large Asian man standing in the doorway to the bridge. He was holding a harpoon, and had it pointed right at Penelope's back. And he was bald.

Bald.

Asian.

My God, it can't be!

What had Jeff said?

I'll never forget his face. Asian. Bald. It's imprinted in my memory forever, Mother.

The man motioned with the harpoon for her to sit in a chair on the far side of the bridge near the weather equipment. Ruth suppressed a small smile as she rose to her feet. Slowly raised her hands in the air and walked over to the indicated chair.

"Lady, you stop," the man ordered.

Penny halted and waited, watching out of her peripheral as Ruth sat down.

"You, man, you go next to the old woman. No tricks!"

Parker turned and walked across the bridge, taking a chair right next to Ruth's. His position partially blocked the elderly woman, and Ruth used that precise moment as her chance to act.

She reached over to the console beneath the live satellite weather monitors. She pressed a button, then pressed five in succession on the keypad next to it. She turned just as Belah took hold of Penny's shoulder and pushed her toward them.

"What do you want?" Ruth asked rather melodramatically. "I don't think we know you."

"You may not, old woman," the man replied. "But I will bet your son does."

I was right, Ruth thought as her mind raced. "What do you mean?" she asked aloud. "If you know my son, why are you taking us hostage?"

"That is precisely why I am taking you hostage," he said, shoving Penny into the third and final seat to Ruth's left. He tossed a rope to her. "Tie them up, Lady," he ordered. "And make the knots tight. I will kill them if I suspect treachery."

"Indeed," Penny whispered. She took the rope and tied Ruth's hands behind the chair, then ran the length of it over to Parker and tied his hands behind him as well.

"Back your chair up to theirs."

She complied.

"Do not move or so help me all four of you will die."

"Who are you?" Ruth asked. "If you're threatening my life, I think I have the right to know who you are."

He tightened the rope around Penelope's wrists and walked around so he was in Ruth's line of vision. "I'm the man your son wishes to kill," he said menacingly. "And now that I have his mother, two of his agents and his houseman, I think this time Jeff Tracy will let me have my way."

Ruth's mouth hardened into a straight line. "What is it, exactly, that you want?"

He shrugged. "My teams are already salvaging what's left of your precious Thunderbirds," he said nonchalantly as he strode to the yacht's main console in the middle of the bridge. "All I want now is Jeff Tracy dead."

Ruth couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her lips.

"I failed the first time. But with the four of you under my control, I know I won't fail a second. Tracy will give anything...even his own life...to get you all back safe and sound. That," he spat, "is what philanthropy will give you. A bad case of sacrificial behavior. He will give himself to me, and I will finish what I started in Manhattan."

Ruth and Penelope shared a look before Ruth spoke again. "You bastard," she whispered. "You tried to kill my son and grandsons and now you've destroyed the Thunderbirds."

"Oh, yes, I meant to ask you. How many of your...grandsons...died today, Mrs. Tracy?"

Ruth glared at him. "None, you pompous sonofabitch." Belah's eyes narrowed. "You not only failed to kill Jeff, you failed to kill everyone. They're all still alive, and in very good hands."

"What?" Belah roared. He stormed across the bridge and backhanded Ruth, who reeled from the blow, but looked up defiantly just the same as blood trickled down from her lip.

"You can kill us all, but it won't undo your failure," Ruth said smugly.

"Bah!" Belah growled, heading back to the controls. He brought the yacht's engine to life and put her in gear.

Penny shared a concerned look with Ruth, finding herself completely confused when the older woman smiled broadly in spite of her split lip. Slowly, Ruth nodded down towards the console.

The little light indicator that said "Radio On" was glowing green. Penny's eyes lit up in astonishment. Her jaw dropped as she looked back up at Ruth, who winked. Penelope smiled.

Perhaps it wasn't too late for them after all.

"Scott!" Virgil cried, stepping right into the middle of the bed and waving his arms wildly. "Scott, can you hear me? It's Virgil! It's me, Scott!"

But Scott didn't respond. He merely stared dully ahead as his chest heaved, then dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Dammit," Virgil breathed as a nurse rushed into the room.

"Sir? Are you all right?" The nurse hit the call button next to his bed as Scott continued to hack and cough.

Virgil backed away from them. "Not dead," he whispered. "I'm not dead." He looked up as a doctor and another nurse ran in. "That's it. I'm not dead."

But how can I prove it? And if I'm not dead, then...where am I?

"Kyrano. Kyrano would be able to hear me! I know he would!" But Virgil hadn't seen any indication that Kyrano lived on Tracy Island. How would he find him? Was Kyrano even alive in...wherever this was?

Virgil stood straight and squared his shoulders. "I wish I was with Kyrano."

When he opened his eyes, his jaw dropped. He could do nothing but stare. "My God. Kyrano?"

"Brains, get that helijet back in the air now!"

"Alan, what's happening?"

"No time, get her airborne and head out to Tracy Six, I'll feed you the location as soon as you're up."

"Tracy Six?" Brains' face lit up. "Did they find Virgil?"

"Not Virgil," Alan replied. "Hurry!"

"Where are you taking us?" Penelope asked evenly when Belah had finished speaking into the radio in a language she assumed was some form of Chinese.

"I am going to retrieve something I accidentally left behind when your young friends blasted me out of the sky," he replied. "And then we're going to go dimension-hopping."

Parker shot a quizzical look Penny's way. She shrugged, turning to look at Ruth. Ruth shook her head in confusion.

"Dimension-'opping?" Parker asked. "Wot's that, then?"

"An experience you shall never forget," he replied.

The radio crackled to life, someone speaking rapidly, also in Chinese, whose words made Belah's face pucker into a scowl. He barked something back to the unseen person before severing the connection.

They watched as he slowed the boat to a stop, then walked over and stood in front of them. "Where are the Tracys who were on those Thunderbirds?"

"I told you, they're in the hospital," Penny replied defiantly.

"Really."

"Yes, really."

He turned on heel and exited the bridge without another word.

"Quickly," Penny said. "Parker, how's your knot coming?"

"Almost go' it, milady," Parker replied, twisting his hands around behind him. "You?"

"Nearly there. Now, Mrs. Tracy, I need for you to remain right here. We're going to spring a little surprise on our friend when he returns."

Ruth nodded as Parker and Penny worked at their bonds until at last they'd both freed themselves. Penny quickly untied Ruth's hands as well, then leaned forward near the microphone of the weather station's comm.

"Alan, we're only transmitting. The Hood is here, he's commandeered Tracy Six. Parker and I are going to try and take him out, but if we don't, you must ensure your father's and brothers' safety. He will be after them." She thought for a few seconds.

"If we are unsuccessful, you mustn't allow any harm to come to your family." Penny looked down at Ruth, who nodded solemnly. "If that means destroying the yacht...do it."

Parker touched Penny's elbow and the two of them turned as the sound of heavy footsteps grew nearer. Penny raced across the bridge to the far side of the door, while Parker took up position on the near side.

The Hood walked in.

Parker sucker-punched him, then grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him onto the floor. The harpoon flew from his left hand, landing near Ruth's feet. Something else flew out of his right hand and skittered over toward the main console. Belah cursed in Chinese as he rolled over on his back and made as if to stand. But Penelope was too quick for him. She went into a low roundhouse and took his feet out from under him, slamming his head back into the floor.

"You fools!" he cried.

Parker tried to take him down, but Belah grabbed his arms and threw him across the bridge. He catapulted to his feet as Penny took a swing. But he was ready for her, catching her hand in his and twisting it painfully behind her.

"One less hostage won't make much difference," he growled. Belah whirled her around and wrapped his hands around her neck. "This will give me much satisfaction."

"Oh, no you don't," came a voice from behind him. Belah turned, keeping Penny at arm's length with one hand still holding her by her neck. He laughed out loud at the sight of the tiny elderly woman struggling to hold a harpoon gun steady. "Don't think I won't," Ruth said sternly. "I don't believe in killing others in cold blood," she continued, "but after what you've done to my family, I'd say it's justified."

"You wouldn't dare. Shoot me, and I take her with me!" he said, shaking Penny for emphasis.

That's when Penny launched herself off the floor, catching him off-guard long enough to send a kick to his groin. He winced and loosed his hold on her just enough that she was able to pull herself free of his grasp. He lunged for her, but was tackled from behind by Parker, who cursed a string of colorful Cockney metaphors as he raised something in his hands and brought it down on the back of Belah's skull.

He crumpled to the floor and didn't move.

"Good heavens!" Penny exclaimed. "Well done, Parker." She looked across the room just as Ruth dropped the harpoon to the floor. "Now I know where Jeff gets his determination and strength," she mused, smiling fondly at the older woman.

Ruth waved the remark off. "That thing is too heavy," she said, looking down at the harpoon with disdain.

"Throw me the rope, ma'am?" Parker asked, holding one hand out.

Ruth did as requested, bringing him the rope that had bound their hands not minutes before. She then turned back to the weather center's comm and pushed a button. "Alan, this is your grandmother. Can you hear me?"

"Grandma? What's going on? Are you all right?"

"We're fine, Alan, just fine. Parker's got the Hood, he's tying him up as we speak."

"Brains is on his way in the helijet, he should be there in about ten minutes."

"All right, Alan. Has anything changed back at the hospital?"

"No, Grandma, not that I know of. Any word on Virgil?"

"No, afraid not, Alan." She heard him sigh before he replied.

"Okay, Grandma, if everything's under control, I'm going to call the hospital for an update. Let me know when Brains arrives."

"Okay, Alan. Good-bye."

"Parker, what is it you hit him with?" Penelope inquired as Parker finished hog-tying their foe.

"This thing," he replied, picking up an object that reminded Penny of an oversized version of one of those metal bracelets the ancient Egyptians had worn. "'e dropped it when we tackled 'im."

"So he did," she said, taking the proffered object. She stared curiously at it. "What on Earth could this be?"

"Maybe the thing he said would take us dimension-hopping?" Ruth asked, peering at the object.

But the object was forgotten, quickly laid on a nearby console as Kyrano stirred on the floor nearby. The women rushed to his side as Parker hauled the Hood back into a corner of the bridge and used the final length of rope to tie him to a pipe. The women helped Kyrano to his feet. He shook his head and slowly opened his eyes, recoiling in horror when they came to rest on his shipmates' captive.

"It's all right, Kyrano," Ruth soothed. "He's unconscious."

"That," Kyrano replied, eyes wide as he stared at the Hood's prone form, "is when he is most dangerous."

"It can't be. Kyrano? Is that you?" Virgil stared at the figure before him. Seated on a large stone chair which looked something like a throne on a dais, Kyrano wore long, flowing blue robes. There was a white turban on his head, adorned with a brilliant green gem set in shining gold.

He was speaking in Malay to a gathering of a dozen or so people, who bowed low as he finished. Something that sounded like a flute began playing music and Virgil's jaw dropped as a figure entered from a door on Kyrano's left. He said something else in Malay as he rose to his feet and Virgil breathed, "Holy shit. Tin-Tin!"

She wore a lavender gown that fluttered in the breeze as she walked up the dais steps and took her place at her father's side. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, flowers and shining jewels dotted throughout. She bowed to those assembled as even more people filed into the great, cavernous room. Virgil stopped a moment to look around. The place looked like giant throne rooms he'd seen in books and movies, with two long rows of seats on either side of the room. A long, red velvet carpet ran from the two thrones down the dais and all the way across the room to a set of double doors at the other end.

Decoration was opulent, yet somehow simple. He turned as Kyrano spoke again, wishing like hell he could speak Malay. Then Tin-Tin began speaking as Kyrano returned to his throne. Virgil drew nearer. He had to get Kyrano's attention. The man was his last...his only...hope.

He was about ten feet away when Kyrano's head snapped up. Their eyes met.

He sees me, Virgil thought, excitement threatening to overwhelm him. He sees me!

Kyrano rose to his feet. His head twisted as though trying to understand something.

"Kyrano!" Virgil said, walking through a handful of people as he came nearer. "Kyrano, can you see me?"

Eyes widening, Kyrano's jaw dropped slightly as he continued to stare. "Ayah?" Tin-Tin touched his arm gently. But he didn't move a muscle as Virgil walked up the steps. Within seconds he was standing right in front of the older man.

"Kyrano? Can you see me? Can you hear me?"

"Ayah, apa hal?" Tin-Tin asked as she moved to stand in front of her father.

But Kyrano held his arm out, stopping her in her tracks. His eyes never moved from Virgil's.

"You can hear me and see me. Can't you?" Virgil asked. "Please, Kyrano, tell me you can. Please!"

Kyrano's mouth closed and he swallowed hard. "Mika siapa?"

"I don't understand Malay. English, Kyrano."

Kyrano looked briefly at his daughter's worried face before turning back to Virgil. "I said...who...are you?"

Tears came unbidden to Virgil's eyes. "Thank God," he whispered, relief washing over and over him, threatening to turn his legs to Jell-O. "I'm Virgil," he replied. "Virgil Tracy!"

"Ayah, dilengkapil dengan. Baring." Tin-Tin took her father by the hand and led him to the door through which she'd entered. Virgil swiped his arm across his eyes as he followed them.

He can see me.

They exited the large room followed by the whispers of those they left behind.

He can hear me.

They walked along several different halls until at last they reached a large set of double doors. Tin-Tin reached out and opened one of them, leading her father inside and settling him on the edge of his bed before speaking quickly to him and retreating back into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Kyrano looked up as Virgil approached.

"Do you know me? Kyrano?"

The older man lifted the turban from his head and set it on the bed next to him before replying. "I know the name Tracy, but I do not know you. Why are you here?"

"I need your help!" Virgil replied, kneeling on the floor before him. "I woke up, I thought I was dead, but...well...it's hard to explain, but I don't think I am! I knew you'd be able to hear me. I just knew it!"

Kyrano shook his head.

"I'm Jeff's son, Virgil. Jeff Tracy? You know him, don't you?"

"I do know Jefferson Tracy, yes. And I have met his sons. You are not one of them."

"Yes, I am!" Virgil cried, rising to his feet. "Kyrano, please! You must help me!" Kyrano watched as Virgil began to pace the room.

"How can I help when I do not know you?"

Virgil continued to pace. But when he walked right through the bed, Kyrano very nearly fainted. "Just listen to me," Virgil pleaded, whirling on him. "I have nowhere else to turn. Will you at least listen?"

Kyrano swallowed hard, his eyes showing a mixture of anticipation and fear. "Sit. Talk."

"I wish to sit on the bed," Virgil said. To Kyrano's shock, Virgil winked out of existence and blinked back in, seated at the head of Kyrano's bed.

"Very well," Kyrano nodded, turning to face the man before him. "I will listen. But I promise nothing."

Virgil nodded, his hands twisting together nervously. He had one shot to get Kyrano...a Kyrano he barely recognized...to help him. He had to make it a good one.

"It all started in Manhattan..."

"Put that down!" The voice from across the room startled them, and Brains very nearly dropped the device he held in his hands. "Fools! You have no idea what you're holding!"

"What is it?" Brains asked, cautiously approaching the man. He was genuinely intrigued. "These readings...they appear to be metaphysical renderings."

Belah raised his chin. "I suppose I should know better than to underestimate the man who designed those fabulous machines."

"Please tell me," Brains said softly. "Lady Penelope said something about dimension-hopping. Is this the device that made it possible? Can you really travel between dimensions?"

He laughed. "What do you think?"

"That's how you surprised Thunderbird One," Brains breathed, staring at the elongated arm band. "You...you're using this to travel through dimensions...to appear whenever and wherever you want!"

"Very good, engineer. Very good indeed."

"If my calculations are correct, you last utilized this device when you appeared and fired on Thunderbird Two."

Belah nodded but said nothing.

"But if that's the case, then why is there another entry in the monitor log?"

"Another entry?" Belah scowled. "What are you talking about? It was ripped from my arm when I ejected after those bastard Tracys shot me down. It has not been used since."

"That's not true," Brains countered, turning the device monitor toward Belah's face. "See? Right here, not twenty minutes after you last used it, the device fired again."

"What did it do when it fired?" Penny asked as she walked up to them. "What does the device do?"

"It opens a portal," Brains replied when Belah refused to answer. "A portal to another dimension."

Penny frowned. Her frown morphed slowly into a look of concentration, then finally to one of disbelief. "Another dimension? You mean...another place just like this one?"

"Most likely," Brains replied. "The existence of other dimensions is purely theoretical at this point."

"Not theoretical any longer," Belah interjected.

Before Brains or Penny could reply, Belah lunged, his feet flying up and out. The edge of his shoe caught the device and it flew across the bridge once again, landing near the door. Parker was across the room in a shot, battling Belah's kicking legs with Brains' and Penny's help.

There was a loud whirring sound, then a bright flash that startled everyone. They were momentarily blinded and the whirring sound grew deafening.

Over the din, one cry rang out. Kyrano's voice, seemingly in agony.

"Virgil!" he cried. "Virgil!"

to Part VI: Authentication >>