While by and large, International Rescue had what they did for a living down to a science; while they generally worked like a well-oiled machine no matter who was pissed off at who back at Base; while for the most part there were few injuries no matter how nasty each Danger Zone turned out to be, the fact was that in spite of the five strong men who manned her, in spite of all the technology at their disposal and in spite of the dedication of an entire family to saving the lives of strangers, International Rescue herself was in danger.

She had become her own entity, this thing that had once been nothing more than a gleam in Jeff Tracy's eye. He'd given birth to her with the help of so many people, and now she existed as a being unto herself, a conglomeration of every carefully-constructed piece of her moving together in synchronicity.

From the numerous IR agents scattered around the globe, to the indomitable spirit, fortitude and intelligence of the duo that were a English aristocrat and her butler. From the main Thunderbird vehicles which ferried personnel and equipment from Point A to Point B, to the actual equipment itself, some of which existed nowhere else on Earth.

From the man who walked a fine line between genius and madness in a laboratory deep in the bowels of Tracy Island, to the grandmother who was matriarch of the Tracy family. From a Malaysian man and his daughter, seeking refuge and the protection that only Jeff Tracy could provide, to the half-brother who lived, operated and killed cloaked in a shroud of secrecy, dogging International Rescue's every move.

From the father who wished desperately to keep his family preserved as a single unit forever in spite of the fact that he sent them out to their potential deaths so often, to the five sons who swore to give their lives to save people who would never know their names, if it came down to that.

From a secret base hiding in plain sight in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean, to the coffers overflowing with billions of dollars borne of a keen mind and the hard work of a man who'd lost his soulmate far too soon.

All of these things and more were what comprised the length, breadth and width of International Rescue's being, and she lived and breathed only when each and every component remained intact without fail, without question and without impedance.

Yet right now, at this very moment, she had ceased to function. Very nearly ceased to exist. The blue uniforms and their colorful sashes hung unworn in closets and lockers. The Thunderbird craft and pod vehicles sat unused, their magnificence waiting silently to be seen again by the outside world.

The one who had dreamed her into existence, was dying. And as he languished in a hospital one thousand miles away from International Rescue's home, the one who owed her existence to this single human being did not know if, by the time this night was at an end, she would still be there.

She could not make her own decisions; she could not choose to remain against the wills of those who controlled her fate. She had lived already for twenty years, and yet in the span of a human life it was so little time. She didn't want to die. She wanted to continue her quest to keep human beings alive when otherwise they would perish. She wanted to continue bringing hope to those who had nothing and no one else to give them that when their worlds collapsed around them.

She loved her reason for being. She loved all the parts of her that made her whole. But she didn't know what would happen when her father, the man represented by the gloved white hand in her emblem that reached out to the world offering life, died.

And so she waited in the gloomy, dark silence of an island so eerily quiet. She waited under a canopy of stars in the clear sky above; under the indifferent yet singularly beautiful light of a full moon silently rising. She waited to learn what her destiny would be.

One solitary figure, left behind to ensure the home of International Rescue would not be invaded or taken by those with evil in their veins, sat surrounded by her presence. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her, enveloped by what she was. Portraits on the walls. Hidden access points to Thunderbird craft. Knowing Thunderbird 1 waited in her hangar behind the wall. Knowing a chute sat unused behind the floor-to-ceiling painting of a rocket ship.

He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, eyes turning to the vidphone behind the desk, willing it to ring with news that would not force tears out of his eyes. "Of all people," his daughter had said to him when the call had come of Jeff Tracy's collapse, "you should be there, Father."

But in that moment, he had known that his place was to remain here. Here where love and friendship had blossomed. Where a deep respect and camaraderie had formed. Here where he could help International Rescue when the time came. For where the others saw her only as the individual components that comprised her being, he saw her for what she had slowly become. Recognized her as a whole. Knew that the fate of Jeff Tracy would weigh upon her in this hour.

He had sensed immediately that this was Jeff's final battle. That nothing he might be able to conjure up in all his knowledge of magick and ways foreign to most others, would keep Jeff's soul from completing its journey here and returning to the place where all souls dwelled.

For Jeff had accomplished his goals. He had learned his life lessons. Jeff Tracy's work in this life was done.

His eyes closed as, for the hundredth time in the past eighteen hours, he allowed his mind to reach out and find his best friend's. He felt Jeff reach out to him. He felt Jeff smile. He felt Jeff thank him for always being there, even as Kyrano did the same. And he felt Jeff Tracy slip away.

When he opened his eyes, they were filled with unshed tears. And he felt the cry from International Rescue, whose fate was as yet undecided, but who mourned for her father as much as the flesh-and-blood men he had borne with Lucille now did. Lucille, who Jeff would now find waiting for him in the place beyond.

Their family would grieve. Until then, Kyrano held International Rescue together; kept her from flying apart at the seams when pierced with the loss of one as beloved, as integral to her existence, as Jeff had been. He would sit right here, the ghost of a great man's presence with him in this chair, and he would not let go of her soul.

And International Rescue would wait for the Tracy men to return. Wait, and hope, that the loss of the man they idolized, loved and had followed for so very many years, would not spell her own demise.

It was all she could do. And as Kyrano enveloped himself in the memories of his departed friend, he embraced that friend's creation with all of his being. And knew, within minutes of Jeff leaving this plane, that even without him, she was going to live.

For he had sensed Scott's mind, and Scott was determined to see his father's dream go on.

He swallowed over the lump in his throat, tears now rolling freely down his face even as he smiled. International Rescue would live.

Exactly as he knew Jeff would have wanted her to.