BLACK AND BLUE by PURUPUSS RATED FRC

Black days and blue days for International Rescue.

Chapter Nine: Korekeihea

Alan reached up and grasped at a small promontory, jutting out from the cliff face. He blinked and turned his head as a small shower of dust temporarily blinded his eyes. His vision cleared and he looked up at the expanse of rock wall that lay before him. The safety line on his rock climbing harness was reassuringly taut above him. He tightened his grip and manoeuvred his right foot into a small crevasse.

Steady Alan, he thought, take your time and find your grip.

But his next goal appeared to be frustratingly out of reach. He analysed the rocky surface above him and made his decision. Putting all his weight on his right arm and leg he made a grab at an outcrop. Even as his fingers closed around the piece of rock he knew that he had made a mistake. As he felt the rock crumble between his fingers he saw, to his horror, the safety rope go slack.

He grabbed at the rope, but it would not hold his weight! With a soft wail he fell backwards and hit the ground with enough force to knock the breath out of him. The chorus of laughter that floated down caused him to look up. Unable to vocalise at that moment, due to a distinct shortage of breath, he contented himself with shaking his fist at his tormentors. It was at least a minute before he was able to articulate his outrage.

"You fools, you could have killed me!"

Neil looked over the edge of the cliff, his laughing face framed by the smiles of Virgil and Gordon. "Sorry mate, but I was taught that when you go rock climbing you should always have at least three points of contact with the rock face. When I saw you make a grab I thought that maybe International Rescue has a different method, and I wanted to see how it worked."

Alan gingerly picked himself up and brushed the gravel from his climbing suit. His elbow was stinging from where he had grazed it on the hard ground. He felt a surge of anger.

"Stupid thing to do," he muttered.

Scott appeared by his side. "Neil's right," he said. "You know full well that you can't rely totally on the safety rope. It would have been your own fault if you had been hurt."

Not willing to admit that the worst thing that he had hurt was his pride, Alan turned on his older brother. "Well, I hope he doesn't try a dumb stunt like that when we are on a mission," he snapped. "Someone could get killed." Still grumbling to himself he wandered over to the first aid kit to tend to his grazes. Tin-tin had just arrived for her session on the rock wall.

"Alan, you're hurt!" she exclaimed, gazing at the blood running down his arm. She reached for the first aid kit and pulled out some cotton wool and saline solution.

Somewhat mollified that someone had shown some concern, Alan put a brave face on it. "Neil was trying to be clever and he let go of the safety rope," he complained. "I'm not badly hurt, it's just a graze."

Tin-tin stopped dabbing at the wound and scowled at Neil who was abseiling down the rock face. Fortunately he didn't see her expression. "What a foolish thing to do." She resumed making a fuss over Alan.

Neil reached the bottom of the cliff, unhooked his harness and wandered over to the first aid area. "No hard feelings, I hope mate," he said, slapping Alan cheerfully on the back. "After all, we all make mistakes." He checked Alan's arm just before Tin-Tin applied a sticking plaster. "Just a scratch, small price to pay for a safety tip." He gave another grin and wandered back over to the base of the cliff to secure the base of the safety line ready for Scott's assent.

Tin-Tin sensing that she had not been told the full story, carefully placed the sticking plaster in position and decided against commenting on the incident.

The still day held a hint of menace as dark clouds gathered on the horizon. The city of Korekeihea looked to the heavens and consulted the weather forecast on their radio stations. "Storm warnings are in force and the 'Met Office' is predicting 100 to 150 mm of rain over the next 24 hours. Winds up to 100 km/hr are also predicted."

The first heavy drops of water splashed down. People leaving home grabbed their raincoats and umbrellas and those returning home hastened their journeys to beat the deluge. Some who had not adjusted their speed for the conditions found themselves skidding out of control as the water, oil and rubber residue mixed together. The resulting slicks becoming a dangerous trap for the unwary. Emergency services braced themselves for an increase in call outs.

Different organisations prepared for the deluge in different ways. Electricity workers were recalled to base. The coast guard was put on alert. Airlines prepared contingency plans and fire brigades checked their supplies of tarpaulins and ropes. Zookeepers did the rounds and ensured that their charges were safely under cover and that anything that could blow away was safely tied down.

The Korekeihea Zoological Gardens were situated on an island created by a loop in the Korekeihea River. Over the centuries the river had gouged out a deep channel for itself, and the island stood high above the water. Native trees clung tenuously to the cliff face and native ducks swam at its base.

Modern man had seen the advantage of the island both for animal control and because the high cliffs reduced the likelihood of flooding. The islands sole land access was a bridge, a two-lane structure that supported Waikato Street. Every animal and human that entered the zoo from the outside world had to cross this bridge.

Korekeihea Zoo had once been regarded as a model of its kind. It had been built, after the turn of the century, using the latest technology and every safety concern had been addressed. The animals had been housed in enclosures that catered to their needs. The zoo had been praised for it's ability to keep the animals healthy and happy and over the years had created a successful breeding regime that had, in no small way, helped avert the extinction of many species.

Sadly over the intervening 60 odd years the zoo had been unable to keep up with technology. Like many others of its ilk around the world, it found itself to be underfunded and understaffed. The staff that were employed were devoted to the animals and were frequently found to be acting above and beyond the call of duty. Keepers would work overtime without pay, pay for minor repairs out of their own pockets, act as first aiders, teachers, and tourist guides to the public who only saw part of what their work entailed. Many a relationship had failed because, "You think more of those animals than you do me." If the staff experienced any disquiet, it was largely kept to themselves. They all knew what the zoo was capable of with adequate funding. They also knew that without a change of heart by the zoo's owners, the Korekeihea City Council, they would be stuck with the status quo. Still they soldiered on, stretching the budget so that the animals were cared for, even if it meant other aspects of the zoo were ignored.

Despite the lack of money, the animals thrived. The breeding programme was still a success, which was a double-edged sword. The fact that the animals were breeding meant that the keepers were excelling in their jobs and that each animal felt safe and secure. It also meant that there were more mouths to feed, and less money to go around.

The zoo's General Manager, Tane Meadows, double-checked his figures again, ignoring the rain that was beating against the roof. The cheetah, Roy and Marla, had just given birth to two cubs, the orang-utan also had a new baby in their midst. He smiled at the memory of the tiny red face peeking out at him from under Daphne's, its mother's, arm. It looked like a little old man, all wrinkled and bald. Daphne had looked younger than him!

The Indian elephant was pregnant, the little brown kiwi had just hatched an egg. The chick had hatched fully feathered. At least it would survive for a short time on the yolk that it retained inside its belly. But soon they would have to supply extra food for the father, who undertook the care of the chick.

There were dozens of other examples. All animals that were a joy to behold and were a further insurance against the extinction of their species. But all further depleted the budget. With a sigh he crossed the cladding of the kiwi house off the maintenance budget and added the same amount to the food budget.

The public had been complaining about the exterior of the kiwi house, AND the state of the canteen, AND the safety of the bridge leading over the fishpond. Throughout the zoo there were structures that were, quite frankly eyesores."But," he reminded himself, "the animals must come first." As long as the animals were happy and healthy, in his opinion, the zoo was doing its job.

Tracy Island was experiencing the fringes of the same weather pattern that was beginning to make itself felt at Korekeihea. The palm trees were swaying with a bit more vigor than usual. A mini tornado of sand leaped from the beach and onto the runway, where it raced along the tarmac for twenty feet and then died out as quickly as it had formed.

Jeff and Brains were eyeing the weather forecast uncertainly. "What do you think, Brains? Will it amount to anything?"

"It's hard to s-say, M-Mr. Tracy. This type of weather pattern is quite volatile, and even modern weather forecasting methods are not 100% reliable, although great p-progress has been made in the last 100 y-years or so. We can expect anything from a c-cyclone to a mild z-zephyr."

"Well, Brains, using an educated guess, what do you think we can expect?"

"At an ed-ducated guess, a-and it is only a g-guess, I-I would think that we can expect high w-winds and rain, b-but the area around New Z-Zealand will be h-hit much h-harder, with gale force winds and a possible cyclone. Currently the front is moving eastwards, n-not north."

"So our assistance may be needed in New Zealand and the surrounding islands?"

"I-it is possible, Mr. Tracy, it's p-possible."

The Tracy boys and Neil had completed their rockclimbing practice and were outside flying kites. It wasn't only for pure enjoyment, although they were having a lot of fun. They were testing the aerial characteristics of a variety of different forms of craft. By working together they were able to combine their ideas and critique each other's handiwork. Sometimes one of them would get a bit sensitive about what they saw as an unfair criticism of his handiwork, but generally they worked well together and accepted each other's suggestions.

Scott was hanging onto the end of a length of cord attached to a lightweight craft. For one moment it threatened to slip through his fingers, then as the breeze eased off, the tiny craft banked and did a spectacular nose-dive into the ground. Slightly dejected, the men started to pick up the scattered fragments. Neil was the first to speak.

"Well I think the basic premise is good! It just needs bigger wings for bigger uplift."

Virgil was being practical. "If we use bigger wings, it will never fit into the pod of Thunderbird Two, unless we reduce the size of the body."

Gordon was thinking laterally, "The wings could fold back on themselves. They are folded up for transportation, we get to the scene of a rescue, unfold the wings and we're away!"

Alan took a similar tack."How about wings that retract, like Thunderbird One's?"

Scott decided that the idea had promise. "We would need a longer body to the craft, but that would give us more room to work with."

Gordon acted as devils advocate. "If the craft is longer, we may be restricting what other machinery we can fit into the pod..."

"Unless we suspend it from the roof of the pod," Virgil was getting excited about the idea. "Then we could lower it till it was clear of the top of the access way..."

."..And send it off like a rocket! Va-voom!" Neil leapt into the air in a decent imitation of how he expected the launch sequence to look like.

"Well maybe not quite like a rocket," Scott tried to tone down Neil's enthusiasm. "The G-forces would be too great for the pilot and we might find ourselves ploughing into some cliff face. But once the craft is clear of Thunderbird Two we should be able to get this craft up to some decent speeds."

Neil had been momentarily downcast. He had hoped that this new craft might just be his Thunderbird, and he was hoping that it would be as speedy and glamorous as the rest. Still he cheered up quickly at the thought that, whatever the craft, whatever the tools used, he would still be helping the mighty International Rescue help those in need. When would he get the opportunity to use his hard won skills?

The weather was getting worse. A particularly loud clap of thunder sent the animals screeching and visitors heading for their vehicles. None of them particularly wanted to get soaking wet wandering around looking at a dreary zoo, with its structures faded and crumbling.

The keepers took another walk around the zoo and double-checked that everything was secure. Ben Karaka poked at the cladding of the kiwi house and a lump of plaster flaked away. One decent gust of wind and we could lose much of this, he thought.

He went inside to check on the building's occupants. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light and then began to peer through the glass of the enclosure. An owl flew past and landed beside its mate. So the Morepork were okay. He turned his attention to the ground cover. A large spotted kiwi wandered into view and disappeared behind a fern, another searched for worms along the front of the display. At the back of the display Ben could make out the shape of another kiwi. That was three of them. Where was the fourth?

"Where are you hiding, Hemi?" As if on cue Hemi appeared from behind a patch of fern, paraded along the full length of the glass frontage and disappeared back into the gloom. Satisfied Ben continued on into the nursery room to check on the little brown kiwi and their offspring.

In the tiger enclosure, Khan paced back and forth, growling quietly to himself. Shannon Brown operated the lever that opened the door to his holding pen and he leapt inside. The door behind him closed with a bang and he turned and snarled at it. Shannon looked through the bars that held him captive.

"What's the matter, boy? Is the thunder upsetting you? Why don't you curl up and have a snooze?" But Khan continued to pace up and down.

All around the zoo, the keepers ensured that their charges were safely bedded down. The giraffes ambled into their 'house', ducking their long necks as they walked through the door. The monkeys swung into their respective cages. The two elephants made their ponderous way into their pen, taking their time, enjoying the feeling of the water hitting their thick hides.

The clouds darkened and raced across the sky. A thunderclap roared at the same time as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. The rain pelted down and quickly flooded drains and ditches. The shear force of the downpour stung those that were caught outside.

In the heavens the clouds met and divided, spinning round in an ever-tightening whirlpool. Reaching out towards the ground and then pulling back, reaching lower and lower on each successive stretch. As the winds and clouds got closer to the ground, more and more debris was lifted up into the air and sent soaring far from it's place of origin.

Trees hundreds of years old were lashed from side to side as if they were mere saplings. Fences were felled and gardens were flattened. Rooves were lifted and flung to the ground.

Ben was looking out from his workroom in the kiwi house. His jaw sagged as he saw the scene outside. He reached for the telephone and punched a call through to the head office. "We've got a tornado on the way!"

"A WHAT?"

"Tornado. Hit the alarms or something. Use the tannoy. Tell everyone to take cover!"

Even as he finished speaking the sounds of the zoo alarm system could be faintly heard above the roar of the wind and rain. He dove into a back room away from the window just as the tornado struck.

Chapter Ten: Devastation

The tornado departed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Bridges were ripped in two, buildings flattened like a deck of cards, and trees had been flung hither and yon. Shortly after the tornadoe's departure, the storm abated. The rescue services swung into action.

Up in Thunderbird Five, John Tracy listened attentively to the messages that flowed from his radio. The Korekeihea Fire brigade had dispatched its entire staff to secure buildings and assist those who were trapped. The ambulance services were being dispatched in all directions to help those who needed it. Volunteer groups like Civil Defence and Search and Rescue swung into action. So far no one had seen the need to call in International Rescue's help.

John listened and waited.

In the zoo, the keepers were once again checking the enclosures, ensuring that the animals had survived the tornado. Radio messages were flying thick and fast back to the office.

"Lion enclosure secure. Lions are okay."

"Chimps enclosure - scaffolding down, major damage to north facing wall, some damage to holding pen. I can't get near the chimps to see how they are, they're having a fit!"

"Tiger enclosure - damage to boundary fence."

"Orang-utan enclosure - West wall missing and I can't find Daphne and her little one!"

Tane swore under his breath. The baby orang-utan was still dependent on it's mother. If anything had happened to her and they couldn't find the baby in time...

Reports kept on flowing in. The elephant enclosure had been wrecked, the pregnant Indian elephant had been injured by a bit of flying debris and she'd fled to the least accessible part of the zoo. The spider monkeys had climbed across the debris that had fallen across the moat that had surrounded their island and were exploring the zoo. People and animals had been injured. Structures were damaged, some beyond repair. Animals had escaped.

Tane tried to keep abreast of all that was happening. None of the human injuries were life-threatening but some of the animals had not fared so well. Each keeper had his or her own emergency checklist but he knew that he had to co-ordinate the rescue and clean up. Where to start? It was obvious that the first step was ensure that all animals and staff on site were safe. He checked the escaped animal list.

Spider monkeys...

Two kangaroos...

Daphne the orang-utan and her baby...

The Indian elephant...

A Galapagos Tortoise...

Three kea...

The tiger...

Tane sucked in his breath. Kahn on the loose! Tane reached for the feeding roster. As he'd feared Kahn was due to be fed later this afternoon. He would be hungry and wandering the zoo looking for easy pickings. He probably wouldn't attack anyone, but if he'd been hurt...

Tane quashed the mental image and grabbed the telephone. The receiver was dead in his hands. Clearly the tornado had knocked out the phone system. He hurried into the neighbouring office.

Like most of the office block, his secretary's office had sustained some damage. The electricity wasn't working and Jan Powell was standing at the window reading the emergency procedure sheet, the radio on her desk was broadcasting up-to-date news flashes on the state of the city. Tane was just in time to hear a broadcast.

"The Police state that Queen Street between Grey and Kirk streets is impassable. The following roads are also unable to be used: Marsden Street, Kauri Avenue, Rangitoto Circle, Shepherd Road, Ahorcee Road, and Kore Way. The length of Waikato Street and the bridge to the Korekeihea Zoo are impassable to vehicular and foot traffic."

"Impassable! We've got people to evacuate and animals that have got to be rehoused. How are we going to achieve that when we can't use the road?"

"Helicopter?" Jan offered helpfully.

"A possibility." Tane was studying a map of the zoo. On the map Jan had highlighted where any damage was situated. The car park area had been used for a helicopter-landing pad before. "If only the telephones were working, we could arrange for some assistance."

"But the phones are working," Jan told him. "Don't ask me how. The electricity loss has meant that the central phone PABX is unusable, but this phone, with its direct link to the outside network is still okay. You just can't make any internal calls or ring an outside line from any other phone. The video display is out of action too."

Tane grabbed the phone and started dialling the police. "Hello, this is Tane Meadows, General Manager of the Korekeihea Zoo. Look we've got problems here, escaped animals and..." He waited while the voice on the other end of the phone said something. "No, a few minor injuries, nothing serious.... I'm pretty sure that none of the animals can escape the zoo grounds... Is there any chance of getting helicopters to assist with the animal evacuation?... Yes, yes I understand. Thanks for your help. Goodbye."

Jan looked at him expectantly.

"No go I'm afraid. All air transport have been grounded due to fears about the weather, they also doubted that a helicopter would be the best way of evacuating large numbers of animals. All the other rescue services are tied up elsewhere."

Jan raised her hands helplessly. "Well now what do we do?"

At that moment a keeper opened the door and stepped into the office. "Sorry Jan, we've just captured this little fellow and there's nowhere else to keep him at the moment. Can we leave him in your office." From within a wire cage a spider monkey looked forlornly out, evidently saddened that his brief spell of freedom had been short lived.

"Sure thing, Roger. Just put him in the corner. I'll try and create some more room for any other lost souls that need housing."

As Roger walked past Tane the General Manager glanced into the cage. The base had been lined with an old edition of the Korekeihea Gazette and the monkey was sitting on the headline. His prehensile tail was circling two words, 'International Rescue.'

Tane smiled. It was a long shot, but worth a try.

"No!" Jeff Tracy was emphatic. "International Rescue is not an animal welfare group. We can't spend our resources on animal rescue." He accompanied each negative with a thump on his desk.

"But Dad..." Scott started to say.

"No buts. What if a real emergency happens and we're all tied up with this job. Someone could lose their life!"

"There are some dangerous animals wondering around there at the moment, Dad." John spoke down from his portrait on the wall. "We could save a life if we did help out."

"Yeah, come on, Dad." Scott managed to put across his point of view. "We haven't had a rescue for months. It would be a good opportunity for Neil to get some experience, without a lot of the pressure that we have to contend with on a normal rescue."

Neil could see the opportunity that he'd been waiting for and he wasn't about to let it pass him by. "That's right, Mr. Tracy. And what's so wrong with helping a lot of animals. Korekeihea has helped preserve a lot of species over the years and mankind would be a lot poorer if these species hadn't been saved."

"Neil's right, Father." Virgil delivered the final blow. "Remember all the times that you took us to the zoo as kids. You were forever telling us what a valuable job zoos did and how they were instrumental in saving a lot of species that you took for granted when you were a boy."

Jeff was silent. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to win this argument and he could concede that the experience could be valuable. "All right." He said grudgingly. "John, put me through to the zoo and I'll see what we can do."

"They're coming." Tane lowered the radio he'd been speaking into in amazement. He turned to Jan. "International Rescue are coming to help us."

"International Resc... Wow!" Jan was lost for words.

"Start ringing other zoos and animal parks in the country. See if they have any room to board some of our charges for a few weeks. See what hospital facilities they have available. International Rescue said they can transport animals around the country. They'll also help us shore up those buildings that are still useable so we can house whatever's left of the collection."

"Fantastic!" Jan reached for the sole useable phone.

Tane switched on the radio so that all the keepers were able to listen in at once. "Attention everyone. I want lists of which animals need urgent care and which need emergency housing, A.S.A.P. International Rescue are going to help airlift them out." He grinned as he imagined his staff's reactions to that bit of news.

'Tarzan' Miller of the ape section was first to hand in his list. "You were kidding, weren't you? International Rescue?"

Tane tried to keep a straight face. "No 'Tarzan,' I wasn't, they should be here in about ten minutes."

'Tarzan' turned to leave. "He wasn't kidding," he told Shannon Brown as she entered the room with her list, "International Rescue are coming."

"Wow." Shannon was stunned.

Scott hovered above the zoo. From the air he was getting a clear picture of the devastation that the tornado had brought. It had been a small tornado, only a few meters wide, but it had been destructive. It had hopped across the city, motored the length of Waikato Street, collapsed the bridge leading to the zoo, admitted itself through the ticket entrance, taking some souvenirs and food with it and then proceeded to cut through the centre of the property.

"I've arrived at the scene," Scott informed John up in Thunderbird Five. "I'm just taking some aerial photographs for reference."

"F.A.B." John acknowledged. "How does it look?"

"Pretty bad, brother. From what I can make out, it cut right through the safari section of the zoo and goodness knows what other buildings. I'm coming in to land now. I'll radio back when I have more news."

"Thanks, Scott."

Scott's initial problem was finding somewhere to land. There was so much debris lying about the place, and he would need to leave enough room for the larger Thunderbird Two to land somewhere on site. He eventually decided that he could just squeeze into an area of relatively clear terrain in front of the Administration building. If he was careful.

It took a great deal of skill but eventually Thunderbird One was safely on the ground. Scott allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation before he climbed out of his craft to get Tane who was waiting just inside the building.

Tane was impressed. "That was some landing!"

"Thanks." Scott shook the managers' hand. "I could have landed by the car park, but we'll need that space for Thunderbird Two." He surveyed the devastation. "Looks like you have a slight problem here."

"That's an understatement. We have several animals who need urgent attention, and our hospital can't cope with all the cases." Tane's eyes fell on the gun that resided in the holster on Scott's uniform. "That thing isn't loaded, is it? If possible I don't want any more animals hurt."

With a reassuring chuckle Scott tapped the gun. "Don't worry. We all have the green barrel attached to our guns. They only contain a knockout pellet. It's the red barrels that we use as a last resort. I understand that you do have some escaped animals on the premises."

"Yes, most of them are harmless, although all animals will fight if they are hurt and frightened. I would say," Tane paused, "that the only one that you have to be wary of is Kahn the tiger."

"A tiger." Scott looked thoughtful. "We've never had to use these guns on anything heavier than a human. I suppose he's likely to be hungry."

"His feeding time is due in an hour."

"Oh well," Scott tried to appear unconcerned, "it keeps life interesting, I guess." Together they set about installing Mobile Control inside Tane's office.

A roar in the sky announced the arrival of Thunderbird Two. Scott's intercom crackled into life.

"Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control."

"Go ahead, Virgil."

"Where do you want us to land?"

"There's only one area big enough to take you. You'll have to land on the car park and the park beside it. The fence is already down so you won't do much more damage."

"Thanks, Scott. I'll offload Neil, Gordon, and Alan with The Domo and the other apparatus and then we can start loading up the hold with any animals that need shifting. Do we know where we're taking them yet?"

At that moment Jan walked in and handed Tane the list of zoos that were able to assist. Tane nodded at Scott who turned back to the intercom. "Affirmative. I'll work out a flight plan and give it to you when you're ready to leave."

"F.A.B."

From what was left of his office window, Tane was able to see the great green bulk of Thunderbird Two swing into view. It hovered over the car park and then gently sank to the ground. Once there, the body of the craft rose up on its hydraulic legs and the door to the pod was lowered to the ground. A moment later there was a roar and a large machine negotiated its way out of the pod and onto the grass in front.

"Wow," Tane breathed. "I wish I had my camera with me." A concerned look from Scott alerted him to what he'd said. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I know, no photographs. It's just... Wow." He turned back to the window without seeing Scott's smile of understanding.

Neil was practically falling over himself in his eagerness to get started. Virgil grabbed him by the arm. "Calm down. It's going to be a long job and you'll have plenty of chances to get some action. By the end of this mission, you'll probably be itching to get home."

Neil gave Virgil a light punch on the arm. "You forget, mate. I am home."

"That's a point," Virgil looked slightly concerned. "Any chance you'll meet anyone you know?"

"I don't know anyone from this neck of the woods, but there's always that chance. Same as there's always a chance that you'll come across someone you know in the States."

"It's a big country."

"It's a small world."

"True," Virgil conceded. "I don't know why I'm worrying. You never stay in the same spot long enough for anyone to get a good look at you anyway."

Neil laughed and headed for the exit.

Outside the others had removed most of the equipment that they had brought for their task. Scott came striding over, the plan of action in his hand.

"Right Virgil, you and Gordon can take a few keepers and air-lift these animals," he handed Gordon a list, "to the zoos marked alongside each animal." He handed Virgil the flight plan. "That's how you get there, and this," he acknowledged the secretary who was walking towards them, "is Jan. She'll liaise between you and the management of the other zoos."

"Good," said Virgil.

"Neil, Alan and I will see what we can do here. There're access ways to clear and the keepers would like our help in recapturing some of the animals. Oh, by the way," he added casually as if it was an afterthought, "there's a tiger on the loose, so you might want to keep your eyes peeled."

"A tiger!" Alan showed some concern.

"Nothin' to worry about. Apparently he's called Kahn and he's just a great big pussycat. It's time for his dinner though."

Neil eyed Scott uncertainly. "I'm not sure whether you're kidding us or trying to keep us calm."

Shannon Brown was standing nearby. "Kahn is loose and he will be hungry. If you do come across him, don't make any sudden moves or you'll frighten him."

"Lady, I would lay even money that we'll be the ones who will get the bigger fright," Gordon stated.

"If you do see him," Shannon continued with a smile, "please tell a keeper immediately." A beeper on her slacks sounded. "Look, I've got to go. Please don't let it worry you too much, he's probably hiding somewhere out of harms way." She hurried off.

"Don't worry she says." A frown creased Alan's handsome face. "There's a hungry man-eater out there, and she says don't worry!"

"She's right," Jan told him. "Tigers don't usually attack people, only if they feel cornered or hurt."

The first wave of casualties were waiting to be loaded into Thunderbird Two's hull. "Virgil and I had better get moving," Gordon said. He scrunched up his face and curled his hands into claws. "We'll leave you to your friend," he said and took a mock swipe at Alan.

"Gerroff." Alan was not amused.

It was hot and dusty work. Neil and Scott's first task was to rescue Indirai, the pregnant elephant. Badly frightened by the noise of the winds and tearing wood and metal flying about her, she'd panicked and run out onto a peninsula of land that jutted out into the river. As the storm had continued the land at the base of the peninsula had subsided, leaving Indirai trapped on an island.

Before they could get near her, the team had to clear the debris out of the way. International Rescues heavy machinery was able to help up to a point.

Scott stopped the machine on a keeper's signal and climbed out of the cab. He jumped onto the ground and sank up to his ankles in thick mud, the result of the earlier downpour. "What's up?"

The keeper, Rangi, came over to him. "The sound of your machine is distressing her. She has a bad gash on her side and she's in calf. I don't want her upset anymore than we can help. Also every time she moves a bit more soil falls into the river, I think there's a chance that she could follow it."

"I understand." Scott acknowledged the problem. "But we're going to have to find another way of getting her out of there."

The sound of Thunderbird Two taking off for another emergency delivery was heard in the distance.

"Could she be airlifted out?" Neil was standing at Scott's shoulder.

"If she's stressed by this beast," Scott tapped the machine he was standing beside, "how will she react to being lifted by a Thunderbird?"

"It would be quicker and easier though, wouldn't it?" Rangi was hopeful.

"Well yes, we could do it in a fraction of the time," Scott confirmed, "and we're still trying to work out how to get her over that gap."

"Look, can you help me get to her now. I'll try to calm her down and do what I can to patch her up, then would it be possible to lift her out?"

"Sure," Scott considered the logistics, "We'll use Thunderbird One. She's smaller and marginally quieter. But don't you think it could harm the calf?"

"I'll have to check with the vet, of course, but I just want to get her somewhere safe as soon as possible."

Scott turned to Neil. "I'll head back to Thunderbird One and start making the arrangements. You can help Rangi get over to the elephant. I'll give you a call when I need your help."

Neil grinned. "F.A.B."

Scott climbed back into the International Rescue machine and started heading back up the hill. His first plan of action was to clear a space big enough for Thunderbird One to touch down after airlifting Indirai. That job finished he set about rigging up the cables and harnesses that would transport the elephant to safety.

Neil's task was slightly more difficult, but he relished the challenge. He would have to carry the gear that would help Rangi get to Indirai and he would have to carry it over the debris that they had been unable to clear. He would then have to somehow get a bridge out to the elephant, so that Rangi could go and calm her down.

He left Rangi talking to Indirai across the chasm and headed up to the stockpile of equipment that International Rescue had left. He had chosen what he would need and was debating how to transport it all down to where it was required. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blue figure.

"Alan, can you give me a hand?"

Alan wondered over. "Sure, what's up?"

"I need help to carry this lot down to the river."

Alan eyed they pile of equipment that Neil had assembled. "You don't need help, you need a pack horse," he said as he gathered up an armload of gear.

Between them they were able to transport the equipment back to the rescue site.

"How's she going?" Neil asked Rangi.

"She's calmer, but I'm still worried about her."

"Okay, do you want to go and get what medical supplies you think you'll need, and we'll continue working out how to get you over there." Neil was already unpacking the equipment.

Rangi hesitated, unwilling to leave. With a reassuring "I'll back girl," to Indirai he started up to the animal hospital.

Scott was working on Thunderbird One, ensuring that the cable that would connect Indirai to the plane was securely attached. He gave a big tug to it and was surprised when the straps of the harness, which had become entwined around his leg, tugged back. Looking down he found a large dark green parrot playing with the catch. The bird was evidently captivated by the shiny metal and would pick it up in its beak, pass it to its foot, mouth it and drop it again.

Moving very slowing Scott activated his radio. "Scott to Tane. I think I've found one of your escapees."

"Where are you?"

"Underneath Thunderbird One."

The parrot stopped what it was doing and regarded Scott with an intelligent eye. It clearly decided that the intercom, which he held in his hand, was more interesting and with a flap of its wings revealing its scarlet under-feathers, it flew onto his shoulder.

Scott winced as the parrot's claws dug in through the material. He tried not to make a move that would frighten the bird away.

Tane appeared at the door to the Administration block carrying a net. "You've found one of our Kea."

"Not really, it found me." The Kea saw Tane, flew to the ground and started to walk away in its peculiar cross-legged gait.

With one fluid motion Tane threw the net onto the parrot. It let out a loud squawk and started jumping around indignantly. Tane radioed for the keeper in charge of the avian section to come and collect it. He then turned to Scott. "You'd better recheck your equipment. Kea are very inquisitive and are well known for stripping the fittings of cars. I would hate for anything to fall off this plane of yours."

As Scott re-checked anything that the Kea could have got its beak on, he found out more about the Kea's history. A native of New Zealand and the world's only mountain parrot, it was thought to be highly intelligent and also a bit of a clown. As Tane concluded, "It probably thought it could fly your Thunderbird better than you can."

Neil and Alan were working together. They unwrapped one package, revealing a coiled length of strong webbing. Alan securely anchored one end of the webbing into the ground while Neil prepared the other end. When Alan was sure that his end would hold firm he gave the signal to Neil who launched a rocket. Its tiny but powerful motor buzzing like an angry bee the rocket shot out and circled the island twice, it then returned to where it started, guided by the remote control that Neil operated. Alan secured this end into the ground. The island was now embraced by the webbing, which they hoped would help hold it secure.

The next stage was to create a bridge across to the island. Another package was opened and another coil of webbing was produced. Once again Alan secured an end into the ground.

"Ready," he told Neil.

"Okay." This time four rockets were sent out. They headed unerringly to the island and ploughed into the earth, a second explosion announced that four pegs had been driven into the ground at an angle that would hold the webbing secure. A bridge about 600 mm wide now stretched between the island and the mainland.

Indirai upset by the sounds about her gave a quiet trumpet and moved uneasily.

"Easy girl," Neil called to her. "It won't be long now."

Rangi had arrived back. He looked askance at the 'bridge.'"Is it safe?"

"Should be," Alan told him, "but just to make sure we'll attach this safety line to you." Rangi found himself being harnessed up.

Wearing a pack containing the necessary medical equipment, Rangi took his first tentative steps onto the 'bridge.' He found it surprisingly firm. In no time he was across to Indirai's side, talking into her ear, scratching her side. He slowly worked his way down to the wound and began to apply first aid.

It was at this time that Neil and Alan received confirmation that Scott was ready. They both headed over to Thunderbird One to finalise details.

It was decided that Neil would stay on the ground and help guide the swinging elephant, Alan and (if he was agreeable) Rangi, would "go along for the ride." Scott, naturally, would pilot Thunderbird One.

Neil and Alan took the harness and walked briskly back to the island. Rangi had finished patching up Indirai and was telling her that everything was going to be all right. His face paled when they told him what they had planned.

"Do I have to?"

"No, but I'm sure Indirai would be happier if you were there." Alan tried to be reassuring. "To tell the truth, I wouldn't mind it either, just in case she panics."

"Okay, I'll give it a go."

Indirai was the first to be harnessed. The straps under her bulging belly were spread out so that the weight wouldn't be taken in only one place. Alan was pleasantly surprised by the amount of control that Rangi was able to exert on her, just by his commands and the tone of his voice.

They radioed through to Scott when everything was ready

"F.A.B. I'm on my way."

There was a roar of an aircraft motor, but it was Thunderbird Two returning from its final mercy dash.

Scott was clearly briefing Virgil and Gordon about their plans, because there was a lull before Thunderbird One's motor was heard. The silver rocket rose up from behind the administration block and turned towards them.

Scott made sure that he attained plenty of height before he flew towards the harnessed trio. Slowly he lowered the craft until the end of the cable was within reach.

Indirai was becoming fidgety. She swung round and banged into Alan. Only the harness that connected him to the elephant stopped him from slipping over the edge. He looked into her docile brown eyes and at once his heart went out to the frightened animal. "It's all right, girl. It won't be long now."

Neil was radioing Scott instructions. "Right, right. Down a bit, bit more. Stop. Okay now to your left. Stop!" He connected the cable to the harness. "Away you go!"

Scott's eyes darted over his instrument panel and his hands expertly manoeuvred the plane. He slowly increased his height and his cargo lifted of the ground. He could hear Neil's voice, "You're clear of the island, Scott. Transferring control over to Alan."

Alan's voice came through the intercom. "We need a bit more height Scott. Okay, that should be fine."

"How's she taking it?"

"Seems okay. Rangi's talking to her and that seems to keep her calm. We need to be raised up about 10 metres more."

Scott made the adjustment.

Neil ran up to where the team would be touching down, outside the animal hospital. Thunderbird One slowly slipped into position overhead, it's three passengers dangling below like a spent yoyo. He raised the intercom to his lips. "Okay, Scott, you're in position. Lower away."

Once again Scott ran a practised eye over his instruments and moved the lever that started the planes downward decent. Neil's voice filled the cabin.

"10 metres above ground. Seven, five, careful, three, two metres, one. Touchdown!"

Scott allowed the plane to sink another metre to let out some slack. As soon as the harnesses were disconnected he rose back up into the air, retracting the cable as he did so. He then made his way to the area he'd cleared earlier. This time his landing was a lot less tricky.

Virgil and Gordon had successfully transported all the animals that needed immediate help. They consulted Tane as to where their services were required next. He directed them to the bear enclosure. "We've had a sighting of Kahn, too," he said. "He was last seen in the region of the swamp lands, so he's nowhere near where you'll be."

Virgil was studying a map. "So he hasn't been captured yet?" he asked, looking up.

"No, the keeper who saw him just had time to radio in and he'd disappeared again."

Virgil and Gordon headed outside passing the rest of the team, who were on their way in to find out what to do next.

"How's the elephant?" Virgil asked.

"They're checking her out now, Scott replied. "They think she's going to be okay."

"Flying elephants," Gordon said with a grin, "now I've seen everything."

"I'm going to radio base," Scott informed them. "Want me to pass on any messages?"

"You can tell them that the 'pussycat' was last seen prowling the swamps, and that Virgil and I won't be anywhere near it." Gordon told him. "I believe it was stalking a keeper until he gave it the slip."

Virgil nudged him. "Stop exaggerating." He turned back to the others. "It has been seen in the swamp lands enclosure, but there's no reports of it hunting anyone." He turned to leave. "C'mon Gordo, we've got work to do."

Outside the sun streamed down. It had turned into a hot, New Zealand, mid-summers day and apart from the ruins that lay around them, there was no hint of the storm that had passed barely half a day earlier.

Gordon shielded his eyes from the sun. "Which way do we go?"

Virgil pointed down a slope that lead away from the administration block. "That's the road to the bear pit. I'll go get The Domo and you can start clearing a path."

"Okay." Gordon started down the path that led to where Scott had left the clearing machine. He'd barely gone 50 metres when a snarl brought him up short. Was it imagination or had he heard something? The lion safari enclosure was off to his right, this sound had come from his left. His hand went slowly to the gun in its holster but he did not draw it out.

He stood still for 2 minutes. No more sounds. No movement.

"Gordon, hurry up." Virgil was yelling at him from where The Domo was parked.

Gordon hesitated and then decided that he was hearing things. Seemed that the only person that he'd managed to frighten was himself. He hurried on and climbed into the machine. As he shut the door behind him he was aware of a sense of relief. He started the motor and began to clear a path for The Domo to follow.

The bear pit had sustained a lot of superficial damage. The main problem was a slab of concrete that had slipped in front of the door that led from the outside enclosure, to the Brown Bears' holding pen. Two Brown Bears were trapped inside and one appeared to have a superficial wound to its shoulder. The zoo staff could get into the pen, but they didn't want to risk it until the healthy bear was outside.

When he arrived at the scene Virgil climbed onto the roof of The Domo to survey his task. The hunk of concrete weighed about two tonnes in his estimation. It would be a piece of cake to a machine like The Domo.

He climbed back inside and manoeuvred the machine to the best location, he then lined up one of the cannons that was mounted on top of the machine. After double checking his calculations he pushed a button.

The missile came snaking out of the cannon and a giant suction cup affixed itself to the concrete slab. Virgil pulled back on a lever and the slab started to shake. A bit more pressure and the slab fell away from the door. He continued to reel in the concrete until it was hanging from the end of the cannon.

He reached for the intercom. "International Rescue to bear enclosure. You're free to enter."

"Roger, thanks." A side door to the pit opened and two keepers armed with brooms and rubbish bags rushed in to clear the floor.

Still in The Domo Virgil carried the concrete slab to the 'rubbish tip' to deposit it on the pile. As he drove away he took another look at the bear enclosure. It was in a sorry state.

The Kiwi house was in an even worse state of repair. The door hung crazily off its hinges, the wall was standing at about 45 degrees off true. A panel lay jammed between the two walls that ran at right angles to the entranceway. Alan gingerly climbed under the panel and then made a left hand turn, down another short access way that opened into the kiwi room. He reached the door of the room and surveyed the scene.

Sitting on the floor in front of the large glass fronted display case was Neil. His left hand clasped an enormous pair of scaly feet, topped with what looked like a lethal set of claws. His right hand held a bundle of fluff, slightly smaller than a chicken. As Alan moved closer he could see that a strong pair of legs connected the feet to the fluff. Attached to the other end of the fluff was what appeared to be a long straw. The straw split in two and clacked at the new threat.

"What on earth is that?" Alan demanded.

"This," Neil said, with a trace of pride in his voice, "is Manu, she's a Kiwi. The National bird of my country. New Zealanders are also known as Kiwi's." He looked down at the bird in his arms. "I've always wanted to hold one," he added almost reverently.

"That's a bird?"

"Yep. Millions of years ago New Zealand split off from the super continent, Gondwanaland, before mammals had a chance to become established. This country only has two native land mammals, and they are both species of bats. The result was that many birds took on the characteristics of mammals since they didn't have the competition. So the Kiwi doesn't fly, hence its large, powerful legs." His fingers gingerly lifted a tiny flap of feathers on the bird's side. "See, its wings are practically useless. And look at its feathers!" He separated a feather delicately. "It's practically hair, like a mammal's."

Alan touched the feathers carefully, marvelling at how much the coat did look like hair. The kiwi rapped him on the hand with its long bill. It was softer than he had expected. "So what's with this long beak?"

"It feeds on worms and grubs that live under the ground. See how its nostrils are at the tip of the beak, all other birds have their nostrils at the base of the beak. It enables the kiwi to smell its food in the soil. It's nocturnal and doesn't have fantastic sight, hence the sensitive beak, whiskers like a cats and large ears." Obligingly the kiwi turned its head and Alan was able to see the birds large ear holes behind the small eyes.

Neil nodded at what looked like a large, white, elliptical stone that lay beside him. "See that egg? Manu laid that, but unfortunately it was infertile."

Alan gasped audibly. "That's her egg? But it must be at least half her size.'

"Two-thirds actually. The kiwi has one of the biggest eggs to the size of the mother in the bird kingdom."

"So why would a national want to be called the same thing as a strange bird that only comes out at night and looks for its food with its nose in the dirt?" Alan wanted to know.

Neil looked indignant. "Well you've got to admit that it is a unique character. I'll bet you've never seen anything like this before..."

"That's true."

"And besides," Neil looked thoughtful, "our national game is rugby, and you do tend to get your nose stuck in the mud when you are at the bottom of the ruck. And," he added brightly, "we are getting the taste for the night life."

He looked at the bird tucked into his arms. "We haven't been too good to your relations, have we, love?" He said softly. He looked back up at Alan, his face suddenly serious. "Like I said, New Zealand had no mammals, so this little lady's ancestors had few predators to worry about. Until man came on the scene. We brought rats and dogs, and later mustelids like weasels and stoats. Even the cat predates on kiwi chicks. Man's removed much of the bush that covered New Zealand, reducing the size of their habitat and species like goats, deer and possums have denuded much of what is left. A flightless bird, unused to predators, with nowhere to run to, hasn't had much of a chance.

"It's not only kiwi that have suffered either. Many of New Zealand's indigenous, unique species have been killed off or at least been brought to the brink of extinction. Even the larger ones. See that case behind you..." Alan turned and found his eyes in line with the base of the neck of a large solid bird, similar in shape to an ostrich, but more heavily feathered. "That's a Moa. It's the kiwi's closest relative. It was the world's largest bird, but it was wiped out during the time of the Maori, although there have been unconfirmed sightings during early European times."

"Wow," was Alan's comment. "Look at the drumsticks on that!"

"That's the reason why scientists believe that it became extinct. It was an easy meal to catch, and it was also unable to escape the fires when bush was cleared. Believe it or not, before man arrived, it had a natural predator."

"There was something brave enough to attack that?"

Neil nodded. "The world's largest eagle. They've died out, too."

"No wonder, if they were big enough to take that on. Once Moa had gone I would guess that anything else wouldn't have been big enough to fill a hole in a tooth. If birds had teeth," Alan added as an afterthought.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure why they died out," Neil started saying. "But that could be an explan......."

Both men had been talking in an almost reverential hush when suddenly the intercom in Alan's hand burst rudely into life.

"Mobile Control to Alan, where are you?"

Manu, startled by the sudden unexpected sound, let out a screech and struggled to break free from Neil's grip. Neil tightened his hold on the struggling bird and grinned. "Big Brother is watching you."

"I'm in the kiwi house, Scott." Alan reduced the volume on the intercom. "You want to take a look at this bird..."

"In case you hadn't noticed," Scott was sounding a trifle tetchy. It had been a long day. "We are in the middle of a mission. We haven't time to go sight seeing. Are you still needed there?"

"Negative, Scott," Alan replied a trifle guiltily.

"Then head over to the giraffe enclosure straight away."

"F.A.B." Alan ceased transmission with a sigh. "Will you be long?" he asked Neil.

"I'm just waiting on the keeper to come back with some transportation for Manu and her mate. I'll report in to Scott as soon as I'm free."

"Okay." With one last look at the kiwi, Alan negotiated his way out of the kiwi house. "Be careful when you leave here." he called back over his shoulder. "This entrance way doesn't look too safe."

"No worries, mate, thanks."

Alan passed the keeper on his way out of the Kiwi House. Ben was carrying two cardboard carry cases. The picture on the side of the boxes incorporated the air holes in the box. Alan glanced at the boxes and tried not to laugh. They had a cartoon of a cats tail poking out one of the holes. Remembering Neil's recitation on the Kiwi's predators he had to admit that it was ironic that the very box that was going to transport the kiwi to safety was in fact a cat carry case.

He nodded a greeting to Ben and carried on to the giraffe enclosure.

Ben negotiated the dangerous entranceway and greeted Neil and Manu. "How's she been?"

"No worries. Have you, my love." Neil crooned at the Manu. She responded by clacking her bill at him.

"Well I hate to break up this little courtship, but the lady has a boyfriend I'd better rescue. Are you free to give me a hand?"

"Not a problem, just tell me what to do."

They gingerly prised Manu into one of the cat carry cases and Neil gave her one last reluctant pat before they hurriedly closed the box on the waving bill. They then had to negotiate their way into the kiwi cage that the birds called home. Ben had turned the lights on in the kiwi house in the hope that Manu's mate, Hemi, would decide that daylight had come early and would go to sleep somewhere. This would mean that the two men would be able to capture him without having to chase him through the enclosure. It was a plan that worked, up to a point.

Ben spied Hemi in a roosting hollow at the base of one of the trees that had been planted throughout the enclosure. Unfortunately the bird was not asleep, probably it was upset by the turmoil that was going on around him. It was hardly surprising as the bird had had to contend with a tornado, noisy machinery (including the arrival of Thunderbirds One and Two), people invading his sanctuary to rescue the other three kiwi and the two Moreporks that lived with him. The result was that he was thoroughly unsettled, and was not going to allow himself to be caught.

Neil had a first hand impression of just how fast a Kiwi could move as Hemi launched himself from under a group of fern fronds, through Neil's blue booted legs, and under another stand of fern. Neil didn't have time to react to the bird, nor had he time to step out of the way of Ben who was chasing Hemi. Both men found themselves sprawling amongst the dirt. Hemi wandered past them, just out of arms reach and disappeared into another log.

Neil and Ben untangled themselves and slowly stood up. "Sorry, mate," said Neil apologetically, "He was faster than me."

Ben was rubbing an elbow that he had bumped on a rock. "That's okay, he's already got past me twice!" He looked around. "Where has the little so and so disappeared to? If he'd only realise that we are trying to help him." He stopped as a movement caught his eye. Hemi was taking a circuitous route back to where he had first been found. "We're never going to catch him like this. Look, you stay here by the door, and I'll go get a net. I'll only be a couple of minutes."

"Okay."

Neil stood by the door and looked around him. The enclosure had been designed to replicate the natural habitat that the Kiwi were used to. This was the viewing room and therefore had less vegetation than natural bush. The bush that was replicated had been layered to maximise the chances of the public seeing a kiwi. Tall shrubs, with limited foliage stood at the back of the enclosure and Neil imagined that the owls would launch themselves from these vantage points. The front of the enclosure was largely soil and would normally be seeded with worms to keep the Kiwi active and in view. He took a deep breath and smelt the mossy smell of the bush that he remembered so well. A Punga log, its rough, nearly black outer surface covered in long strips of dead fronds was propped against the wall. From the top of the log fragile fronds were sprouting. Neil fingered the delicate green leaf and marvelled at the notion that the frond would grow bigger and tougher and eventually be part of an umbrella of Punga fronds.

It was while he was musing on the beauty of the scene that he became aware of a small figure wandering around his feet. Looking down slowly he was surprised to see Hemi foraging, quite unconcerned about the daylight and the bright blue tree that had magically materialised in his territory.

Neil hesitated; debating the merits of a slow manoeuvre compared with a sudden attack. He made up his mind and swooped on the bird, grabbing its legs in his left hand and wrapping his right arm around the body.

Hemi annoyed at this sudden indignity, managed to free a powerful leg and aimed a kick at Neil's midriff. Neil gasped, surprised by the force of the blow. A tearing sound as the sharp claws ripped into Neil's uniform proceeded a slicing sensation to his abdomen. Neil fought against the twisting bird and managed to gain a firm hold of the offending leg. Hemi exasperated by this sudden loss of mobility, threw back his head and let out the screech that centuries earlier had prompted the Maori race to name his species, 'Kee-wee'.

Neil leant against the wall of the enclosure to regain his breath. A disquieting movement of the structure reminded him that the building was not as strong as he would have liked. The door opened and Ben entered the room. He had a broad grin and carried a large net on the end of a pole. "Looks like I don't need this." he said. "How'd you manage to get him?"

"Just luck." Neil shrugged. "He sure put up a fight though," he added as he and Ben put the protesting Hemi into a box.

Ben started at the strips of blue uniform that hung down from Neil's shirt. Part of the material was beginning to stain dark as blood began to seep through. "I'll say he did. Is that blood his or yours?"

Neil looked down. "It's all mine," he said tightly. "I think our friend came out the better in our little altercation." He looked back at Ben. "What are you going to do with them now?"

"Well there's no room for them in the normal places, such as the hospital, and they seem happy enough in their carry cases so we'll leave them in these in one of the offices in the administration block." He gave an impish grin. "I know, we'll put them in the General Managers office. Tane is the name of the god of the forest, so his namesake can look after his charges. The first aid office is in the office block so you can get yourself cleaned up there. In the meantime, if you're not going to expire from blood loss, I wouldn't mind a hand getting these guys to their new accommodation."

Neil was more than happy to help.

In Tane's office Neil carefully opened Hemi's box. The Kiwi was curled up in the bottom, sound asleep, his long beak absurdly tucked under its wing, just as his ancestors would have done. The flap of feathers barely covered the middle of the beak. He was quite content and none the worse for his exciting day. Neil fingered his sore midriff. He couldn't say the same.

Dusk was coming. The air was getting cooler, but the day's heat was still radiating off the ground. Birdsong filled the air. The army was building a temporary bridge across the Korekeihea River to the zoo and the rescue effort was winding down. Scott, Virgil, Alan, and Neil had assembled in the shadow of Thunderbird Two.

"Where's Gordon?" Virgil asked.

Scott gave a sly grin. "Oh I found an appropriate job for him. The door to the tiger enclosure wasn't fitting properly, so I've sent him to give the maintenance staff a hand. He should be finished shortly."

Alan approved. "Maybe I'll go and see him. Just to tell him we're ready to go, of course."

"Of course," Neil giggled. "What other reason could you have?"

At that moment Tane emerged from his office. "I thought you guys would like an update on how things are going..."

"How's Indirai?" Alan asked

"Both she and the calf appear to be fine. They'll keep an eye on her, but they think she'll carry the calf to full term."

"Glad to hear it." In Alan's mind that one bit of news had made the whole operation worthwhile.

Gordon was cursing Scott under his breath. He knew exactly why his brother had assigned him to this little job and he tried to ignore the claw marks that filled the enclosure, by deciding what punishment was the most suitable.

The maintenance engineer was talking away while he was working. Asking questions and not waiting for the answers. "I guess you guys are always rushing off to some part of the world or other on a rescue. You must get to see a lot of the sights, but then I guess you don't have a lot of time to look at them." 'I guess' seemed to be one of his favourite sayings. "I guess because of all the secrecy you don't get to see a lot of your relations. Mind you, I guess that could be a bonus... Bother!"

"What's the problem?"

"I've just broken one of my tools and I haven't got a spare here. I'll have to go back to my workshop to get another. Do you mind waiting?"

Gordon shrugged. "Sure, I don't think I'm needed elsewhere."

The engineer disappeared out the door and Gordon was left alone with his thoughts. He had just come up with a particularly appropriate way of getting even with Scott when he was alerted by a sound at the doorway.

He felt his palms go clammy as he slowly raised his intercom. "Gordon to Scott."

No answer.

He tried to keep the panic out of his voice as he tried again.

"Gordon to Scott."

This time there was a reply. "Scott here. What's up?"

To Gordon's ears Scott sounded obscenely cheerful.

"I've seen the tiger."

"Great. Where?"

"He's standing there looking at me."

Scott was about to ask Gordon if he was joking when he realised that something in his brother's voice told him that for once the practical joker was serious.

"How does he look?"

"Hungry!"

"Look don't move. There's an expert on the way."

"Well tell them to hurry, I don't like the way he's crouching down."

Kahn grunted. It had been an interesting day. The weather had been most unsettling, he hadn't been fed at the usual time and he'd spent most of the afternoon hiding from strange, noisy animals that had been roaming about. He was tired, hungry, and now, when he'd found his way home, there was a strange human in his domain. Well he'd just have to show this human the door!

Gordon looked desperately around the enclosure. It was a big room lined with a variety of objects designed to keep a large, male tiger occupied. There was nothing that Gordon could use to protect himself. There was a viewing platform up on the wall, which was out of tiger range. Unfortunately that also meant it was out of Gordon range too.

Kahn made up his mind and sprung. A split second later Gordon dove to his right, although he feared that the action was useless. Fortunately for Gordon, Kahn's paws slipped on the straw and instead of landing on his intended victim he found himself caught up in a rubber tyre that was suspended from the ceiling. Enraged he turned on his victim again.

This time Gordon was sure there would be no reprieve. He was cornered. He braced himself against the wall and waited.

Kahn crouched, ready to spring.

Gordon couldn't take his eyes off the big cat.

Kahn waggled his hind quarters in preparation to spring and...

There was a quiet pop and Kahn sagged to the floor, his tense muscles going limp.

Gordon gaped at the tiger, unsure of what had happened.

"Not a bad bit of shooting, was it?" Alan's voice filtered down from above.

Gordon looked up to the viewing platform to see his youngest brother leaning over nonchalantly, his gun with its green barrel in his hand.

Shannon Brown appeared in the doorway. "What have you done to him?" she cried rushing over to Kahn's side.

"It's only a tranquilliser, he should be fine." Alan called down from his vantage point.

At that point the rest of the International Rescue team arrived, out of breath, having run all the way from Thunderbird One.

"Gordon, are you all right?" Scott, Gordon was pleased to see, was a little pale. Perhaps his retribution would not be required.

Gordon peeled himself from the wall and tried to act as if he hadn't been scared out of his wits. "Yeah, I'm fine." He shoved his hands into his pockets in an act that was supposed to display a casual attitude, but which in reality hid his shaking hands. He walked over to where Kahn was lying. The cats tongue was hanging out of his mouth in a goofy attitude. It was hard to believe that this was the same animal that moments ago had intended to harm him.

"He's quite handsome isn't he, that is when he's not trying to run you down."

"Yes he is." Shannon gave Kahn a fond rub behind his ears.

Gordon reached out to give the tiger a quick pat. His hand was still unsteady, but no one remarked about it. A thought occurred to him. "He's not going to get into any trouble is he? I mean he was just trying to protect his territory."

Shannon looked at him. "I'm sure there will be an inquiry, but I can't see them blaming Kahn."

The vet arrived then to check Kahn over. "Looks like you've used some kind of muscle relaxant, he's not completely unconscious."

"That would make sense." Scott had been thinking about the situation. "The drug is designed to knock a human out instantly. An animal with a greater muscle bulk would be affected less."

A rumble emanated from Kahn's chest.

"Sounds like it doesn't last as long either." Alan had descended from the look out. "I don't think I'll bother hanging about." He too gave the tiger a brief pat and then left the building.

Just then the engineer appeared at the door. "Quite a crowd we've got here," he said. "I guess I've got an audience." He tripped over the tiger's tail and then, realising that he was in the same room as the big cat, dropped the replacement tool on the ground. It broke in two. "Bother," he said.

One by one they filed outside. Shannon shut the door behind them. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on him as he wakes up," she said.

On the way back to Thunderbird One, Alan and Gordon fell behind the rest. "That was a good bit of shooting," Gordon said, "thanks."

"No problem," Alan acknowledged. "Glad to be of help."

They continued the climb up the hill to where the Thunderbird craft were waiting to take them home.

Chapter Eleven: Paparoa

Robin Shirtcliffe skidded down the muddy slope, hit the bottom, and kept on running. Supplejack plants threatened to throttle him, as the New Zealand Department of Conservation Ranger blundered through their tendrils. Bush Lawyer, its long thin leaves covered in spines, grabbed his bush shirt, scratched his face and hands, and impeded his progress, but he paid them no mind. He had to keep moving. Birds fled deep into the bush to escape this human projectile.

He rounded a corner in broke into a clearing. Ahead lay a D.o.C. hut. That would have a two-way radio! The door slammed back against the wall as he raced inside. There was the radio! He grabbed the hand piece and without waiting to gather breath, switched it on.

There was no reassuring crackle of static. The machine remained mute. Feverishly he scanned the dials to check the settings were correct and then pulled the table out from the wall to check the connections. It was then that he realised why the radio wasn't working. The power cord that connected it to the solar panel had been gnawed through. A small, recent, pile of droppings identified the culprit as a rat.

Suddenly his pack felt as if it were made of lead and he slid it from his aching shoulders. He was cold and he was wet. He was also hungry. Numb fingers refused to co-operate as he tried to open the pack. Once he had managed to extract an energy bar he sat down on one of the bunks to consider his options.

Point one: He had to get help as soon as possible.

Point two: It was starting to get dark, and the wind and rain would make the track doubly hard to follow and dangerous.

Point three: The cold and wet would be even more debilitating for the injured man he'd left behind.

Point four: He was tired and his aching muscles were beginning to seize up. He was a fit man, but he'd run several miles over rough terrain with a full pack. He didn't think he would have the energy to continue tonight.

The sugar must have reached his brain as he was beginning to feel more in control of the situation. He looked again at the dead radio. If he could mend that cord...

He got to his feet and staggered slightly as his muscles protested, but managed to walk over to the radio.

He turned off the power, removed the cover to the radio and looked inside.

"Damn."

Curled up in a nest of wiring were a family of baby rats. Mother was clearly off gathering food having left her offspring in a nice, warm, sheltered bed. A bed made up of the intricate workings of the now useless radio.

If he'd been stronger, he'd have exterminated them, knowing they were a noxious pest. But now he felt as if he'd lost the last of his strength. He made it back to the bunk and fell onto it. His clothes were wet, but he couldn't be bothered changing them. He dragged his sleeping bag out of the pack, laid it on top of himself and in spite of his worries instantly fell asleep.

He awoke before day-break feeling somewhat refreshed. He made himself a hasty breakfast and readied his pack for the days challenges. He thought of leaving the bag behind, but realised that if he were to have an accident it would be his only chance of survival.

As soon as the morning started to grow light, he pushed off again. The weather was no better, but he knew that he should reach the first signs of civilisation before nightfall. He had to. Men's lives depended on it. If he wasn't already too late....

On Tracy Island, the sun was still waiting for its time to make its appearance. Neil however was already up, in the gym. The rest of the household were still sound asleep. They were just starting to stir when he finished his session.

"Morning all," he said cheerfully as they all wondered bleary eyed into the kitchen.

Alan looked at him through eyes still caked with sleep. "How can you be so cheerful at this time of the morning?"

"It's the best time of the day, everything seems bright and fresh and new..."

"And you sound like an ad for a laundry detergent," Gordon grumbled.

Whistling softly to himself, Neil helped prepare breakfast. Exchanges like that made him feel like he was finally becoming part of the family, part of the team.

He was ready with his scuba gear almost as soon as he'd finished breakfast. "C'mon, Gordon, you promised to introduce me to an octopus today."

Gordon was still in his dressing gown. "Okay," he sighed, "give me a few minutes to get ready and I'll be with you."

"Anyone else want to join us?" Neil asked cheerfully.

"No, thanks," Scott told him. "We've all got equipment checks we've got to do."

After Neil had left, Jeff laid down his knife. "He's good value. I'm glad we've hired him."

"Neil? Yeah, and he's fitting in well too." Scott was still finishing his breakfast.

"He's considerate too," Grandma added. "He doesn't just throw his clothes onto the floor instead of putting them in the laundry basket." She looked pointedly at Alan.

"He's a fast learner." Virgil was starting to clear the table. "I only had to show him how to operate the magnetic grabs once and he was using them like an old pro."

"H-he was able to offer me pertinent advice r-regarding the development of our latest f-fire extinguisher." Brains was appreciative of Neil's skills, too.

Tin-Tin also felt that Neil was an asset. "He's updated me on some of the latest first aid techniques. I should go on a refresher course..." She looked hopefully at Jeff.

"You're right, honey. I'll arrange for you to go on a course and then you can refresh us all."

The dense bush restricted the amount of rain that was able to seep though, but the track was still wet and slippery. He pressed on regardless.

The track suddenly disappeared from under his feet and he slid, out of control, down an avalanche of rock, mud, leaves, and branches. He reached out for something to control his descent, but nothing held him. He was slamming into jutting roots and jagged stones. His pack snagged on an outstretched branch and he was jolted to a stop. He found himself dangling above a precipice, the straps from his pack, cutting into his armpits but saving him from falling all the way to the riverbed below. His legs, arms and face stung from the cuts and bruises they'd received, but he was otherwise unhurt.

Now what was he supposed to do? Trying not to shift his weight he looked around him. The heavy rains had clearly weakened the hillside and swept the track away in a landslide. There was no way that they would be able to get a stretcher out this way. To his right was bare, loose soil. The rains caused it to continue to wash down the hillside. To his left the hillside was still intact, but out of arm's reach. He carefully turned to look behind him, but his pack obliterated his view.

The pelting rain was making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, so he was working mainly by touch. Moving slowly he inched his way upwards until he was able to sit on a bit of ground that seemed relatively secure. He then removed his arms from his pack straps and turned so that he had hold of the branch that had stopped his fall. Now that he was able to see behind him he realised that the contents of his pack were strewn about. As he watched his first aid kit slid past him and over the edge. It burst on impact and rolled down to the riverbank, festooning a trail of bandages as it went.

He examined his pack. It was now useless, having been ripped wide open, but he had no desire to cause it to follow the first aid kit, as it had saved his life.

He felt inside and was surprised to find a surviving energy bar, a little broken but with its protective covering still intact. He put it into his pocket.

Now what to do? He manoeuvred himself so that he was straddling the branch that had quite probably saved his life and examined his pack more closely. The framework was bent but still intact and the straps still strong. If he could lasso a branch he might be able to swing across to the undamaged hillside. He tried several times and failed.

A fraction higher up the hill was an overhanging branch. He couldn't reach it from a sitting position, but if he could stand...

Still working slowly, trying to keep his weight constant and even, he stood up, and got as close to a balanced footing as was possible on a 15 centimetre wide branch. He then took a few experimental swings before aiming for the lifeline.

It was too much for his foot stand. With a loud crack it broke and once again he found himself careering down the cliff face towards the rocks below.

Once again his luck held. His outstretched pack snagged yet another branch and despite complaints from his muscles he managed to keeps his grip on the other strap. His downward momentum forced him to continue moving at a diagonal angle until he slammed into a rock and stopped. He was winded, sore but alive.

He lay still for a while trying to get his breath back, and then crawled into the relative safety of the bush and sat with his back braced against a tree. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved the energy bar and ripped open one end. It's contents had largely been reduced to powder and he poured them into his mouth.

After a few moments he felt strong enough to continue the climb down to the riverbank below. There he knew he would find the continuation of the path that would lead him to civilisation and alert the authorities to the emergency that he had left a day and a half ago. He had all but forgotten the reason for his flight in the terrifying drama that had occurred over the last few minutes. Was he risking his neck in vain?

He continued on his way.

The octopus glared at Neil from beneath it's rock. It did not want to be disturbed.

Neil dangled a piece of crab, still in its shell, enticingly in front of it. "Come on Olly," he said, "we won't hurt you."

Gordon laughed, the sound was relayed to Neil's ears via an intercom installed in each man's facemask. "They're not stupid, you know. He realises that you're just going to tease him with it. Here..." he took the crab from Neil and laid it on a piece of coral a short distance away from where the octopus was hiding. ."..now move back and wait."

Neil did as he was told. A sinuous arm appeared from under the rock, followed by another and another and then the body of the octopus. It slowly crept along the bottom of the seabed prepared to flee should anything threaten it. It reached the crab and once again an arm reached out...

"Strewth!" The octopus had grabbed the crab and fled back under its rock. It's speed had astonished Neil. "That's real jet propulsion! I'll bet it would put Thunderbird One to shame."

"Look over here," Gordon had found another treasure. "Look, there's a manta ray."

The great fish sailed gracefully overhead, it's two 'horns' sweeping minute plankton into its gaping mouth. Gordon swam up beside it and kept pace with it, admiring its flaps beating slowly like wings, flying under water.

The only sound that disturbed the silence was the sound of their own breathing.

"Calling Neil and Gordon, are you two still playing?" Scott's voice seemed to come from nowhere.

"Yeah, we're still here," Gordon answered him.

"Tell Neil that I'm all set to give him some lessons on flying Thunderbird One, if he's still interested."

"If I'm still interested. Just try and stop me." Neil turned and started swimming for the shore at a speed that would have impressed the octopus.

Robin Shirtcliffe paused to regain his breath and then set off at a run again. He rounded a corner and caught a flash of something bright orange.

"Hey!" he tried to yell but couldn't make his voice heard above the rain and the wind beating at the trees. Was it his imagination or was the weather getting worse? Once again he lurched forward at a trot.

Another bend and he caught sight of the orange again. It was a backpack attached to a man wearing dark green waterproofs. Preceding the man were two women and in front of them was another man.

"Hey wait!" Robin pleaded. To his immense relief they turned. "Do you have a radio?"

They frowned. "Ray-de-oh." the man with the orange pack enunciated, then his face broke into a smile. He hoisted the orange pack from his shoulders, rummaged inside and produced a small transistor radio.

"No, no that's not what I meant." Robin couldn't believe that help was so close and yet so elusive. "What nationality are you? Français? Deutsche?"

"Ja, Deutsche." Orange Pack slapped his chest.

Struggling to remember what little German he knew Robin managed to make them understand that he needed to be able to contact D.o.C headquarters. Unfortunately the party did not carry any type of mobile communications.

Once again Orange Pack smiled. "I go, get help." he said in English and moved to set off.

"Wait!" Robin called after him, "You'll have to tell them about the others." Orange Pack shrugged and looked at him quizzedly. Robin mimed writing. "Do you have a pen and paper."

One of the women searched her pack and came out with a diary and a pencil. Robin grabbed it, tore a page out and hurriedly scribbled a note on it. He gave it to Orange Pack. "Give this to someone at D.o.C headquarters, they'll give it to Jason Trolley. I've written his name on the outside."

Orange Pack said "Ja" and started to head along the track at a jog. Robin had a feeling that he hadn't understood a word.

Robin looked at his new companions. "Danke." was all he could think of to say.

Despite the fact that he was sitting at a simulator and not at the controls of the real thing, Neil was having a ball.

"Way hay!" he cried and pushed the acceleration lever still further forward. The artificial landscape flashed past.

"You carry on like that and you'll be 'way hay' straight into a mountain," Scott warned him.

"That's why I'm doing it here," Neil turned to Scott, "where I know I'm safe."

"Look out!" Scott pointed out the imaginary window. Neil turned back but it was too late. The display changed into a cocktail of fiery colours and the room went black.

"You crashed!" Scott said quietly.

Neil shrugged. "At least we got out of it alive," he laughed. He noticed Scott's scowl. "Okay. Party's over. This time I'll concentrate." He turned back to the control panel and the indicator lights lit up again. The view 'outside' the window was of a flat plain. Thunderbird One was clearly ready for vertical take off. He gently ignited the vertical jets and the simulator shuddered as it mimicked the forces affecting the real plane leaving the ground.

Jason Trolley read the note again. It was not good news. Three men trapped in the bush, one with serious head injuries, and a cyclone on the way. An air rescue would be impossible in the high winds that were starting to hit the National Park and a land rescue would take days to reach the survivors, especially if, as the note said, the track had been destroyed.

He flicked through his telephone directory, finding the numbers of people that he would have to contact. As his eyes scanned the quickly moving pages two words resolved themselves into one recognisable phrase. He lent on the desk, "International Rescue! I wonder if they can help."

Up in Thunderbird Five, John Tracy answered the emergency call as soon as it was received. "International Rescue. Go ahead caller."

"This is Jason Trolley, District Conservator of the Paparoa National Park, New Zealand. We have an emergency. Can you help?" He gave John a brief rundown of the situation.

"Affirmative. Stay on the line and I'll get back to you in a moment." John changed channel. "Thunderbird Five to base..." His father's face appeared on the video screen.

"Go ahead, John!"

John gave him an outline of what Jason had said. "If that guy's got a head injury and been out in the weather for nearly 48 hours, he's going to be in a bad way."

Jeff gave a grimace as he pressed the button that alerted the crew that they had a job to do. "You're right. It may be one time that International Rescue is too late." Scott was the first to arrive on the scene. "Get going in Thunderbird One, son, and head for New Zealand. John will brief you once you are airborne. We haven't got time to waste on this one." Virgil and Neil ran into the room. "Boys, get Alan and get going. You'll need pod three. You're heading to New Zealand."

"What again?" Neil was dumb-founded. "The country hardly sees you guys and then as soon as I join you're hardly away from the place."

"C'mon," Virgil pulled Neil's sleeve, "we've got to get moving. You'd better go get Alan."

Neil ran from the room and cannoned into Alan. "Sorry, mate," he apologised. "Your father wants you to come with us. Virgil's already in Thunderbird Two."

"What's up?" Alan asked as they descended in the elevator.

Neil shrugged. "All I know is we're taking pod three and we're going to New Zealand again. Guess we'll be told soon enough."

Virgil had been briefed by the time they had dressed and arrived in Thunderbird Two's cabin. "We're going bush. Some guys hurt himself when tramping and a cyclone is preventing regular rescuers from getting to him. You'd better buckle up, it's going to be a rough trip."

The cliff door started to retract and sunshine streamed in. "Seems to be a nice enough day..." Neil commented.

The craft bucked and swayed. Rain lashed at the windscreen. Scott had flown above the cyclone and was now descending through the storm clouds. Just like being in a washing machine, he thought grimly as he fought to maintain control.

He was relying totally on his instrumentation to tell him where he was. He knew that he was less than 100 metres above the ground, but he had little idea what lay on that ground. Radar picked up a building to his left and trees to his right. If his calculations were correct this was the car park that he'd been told he could land in. With a shudder the scout craft touched the ground and he shut down the jets. Even through the super strong hull he could hear the gusts of wind screaming past at up to 200 kilometres per hour. Thunderbird One was rocking slightly and to guard against his plane being uprooted, Scott activated a switch. Grabs sunk into the tarseal and held firm.

"Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird One. I've landed."

He left his seat and headed for the door. He was met by Jason Trolley, leaning against the force of the wind.

"Glad to meet you!" Jason yelled.

"What?" Scott yelled in return. "I can't hear you above this wind. Give me a hand with my gear." He motioned to where Mobile Control had emerged from Thunderbird One's undercarriage.

Jason hadn't understood a word that Scott had said either but, realising that the equipment was to go into the building, helped the gentleman from International Rescue.

Once inside Jason was able to introduce himself. He also introduced Scott to Robin who had finally made it to the D.o.C. H.Q.

Scott surveyed Robin's dishevelled appearance, noting his scratches and bruises. "Looks like you've been through quite a bit!"

"Yeah, but that's nothing compared with what you guys will have to face."

"You say that we can't get in contact with them?"

"No. One of our radios developed a fault, and Mako was carrying the spare when he fell. We had to cut his pack loose to help him and it was washed downstream. I doubt that it would have been in working order anyway."

Scott bent over a map. "Where exactly were you?"

Robin's finger traced the line that marked the trail. "There. Mako had gone to check a possum bait station that was slightly off the track when we heard a yell. There's been a lot of rain lately and the ground must have given way when he trod on it. He fell about 30 metres. I was sure he was a goner. Barry abseiled down and found him unconscious in the river. Fortunately he'd landed in such a way that his head was above water. We stabilised and immobilised him as much as possible and then decided that as we had to move him out of the water, we'd shift him so that he had the protection of an overhanging ridge. I'm glad we did in view of this cyclone! I'm the fastest runner so we decided that I'd go for help and the other two would look after him. They have their survival kits and extra food but two days in this weather..." He trailed off.

"What state was the injured man in when you left?"

"Still unconscious. He seemed to have lost a lot of blood, but you know how that stuff dilutes when mixed with water. He clearly had several broken bones, right fiba, left forearm. His nose looked pretty mashed up, too. His pulse still seemed relatively strong though which was a good sign. Hypothermia may well be his biggest concern. And not only for him, either! That rain's mighty icy."

Scott checked his watch. Thunderbird Two was due to arrive at any moment. "Right!" he said gathering up the map in preparation for scanning. "I'll radio that information through. It'll only waste time if our team land here so I'll send them straight on to the rescue scene..."

Virgil lowered Thunderbird Two closer to the ground, a blast from it's vertical jets turning the driving rain into clouds of billowing steam.

"Is this the spot?" Neil looked out of the window. He could see nothing through the river of water that ran off the plane.

"According to our instruments it is. We'll just have to hope that our information is correct," Virgil told him.

It had been decided that Alan and Neil would be lowered down through the thick canopy to the ground below and they readied themselves for the descent. A hatch beneath them opened up. All they could see were horizontal sheets of driving rain.

"Gee. This is going to be fun," Neil said flatly as he surveyed the scene below him. "Can you get us lower Virgil?"

"A little."

"Those trees are going to be flapping about a bit."

"Not scared are you?" Alan asked him.

Neil looked at him. "Scared? No. Cautious? Yes." He double checked his harness and stepped off into space. "See you down there." Slowly he began the descent.

He was soon obliterated from view. The only visual link they had with him was the cable that suspended him. A cable which was whipping around alarmingly.

"You okay, Neil?" Virgil sent out a radio message.

"Sure. Piece of cake. I've just touched down in a clearing. Good piloting, skipper. Send down Alan and the stretcher."

"You heard him, Alan. Are you ready to go?" Virgil asked his youngest brother.

"F.A.B." Alan stepped out into the maelstrom.

The ride down was rougher than he'd expected. Even with Neil steadying his cable from the ground, the wind still caught the stretcher and spun them round. Alan was glad when his feet were on firm, if not dry, land.

"Have a good trip?" Neil asked him.

"I've had better," Alan replied a trifle shakily.

Neil looked closely at his associate. "Hey! You look a bit green about the gills."

"No, I'm fine." Alan pushed him away. "That ride was just a bit rough, that's all! I'll be okay."

"Here!" Neil walked over to a bush. It's long, pale green leaves were bending away from the direction of the wind. He grabbed at a branch and plucked the tender shoots from its tip. "Chew on this."

Alan looked at the greenery, askance. "What is it?"

"Koromiko. It's great for upset stomachs. It's one of the original Maori medicines. Mind you," he added as an afterthought, "the ancient Maori never had to deal with being dropped from a supersonic jet plane."

Above the wind another voice could be heard, "Thunderbird Two to Alan and Neil. Everything okay?"

Neil spoke into his mike. "F.A.B. We're just fixing up some, er, housekeeping before we get started. We're ready to go now." Alan nodded affirmative.

Carrying the stretcher between them they pushed off towards where they assumed that the trapped men would be sheltering. "I don't get it," Neil was saying conversationally. "You're a motor racing driver, you pilot numerous fast, strange vehicles including a space ship and yet a little trip like that sets you funny."

"Yeah, well, I guess I find it better if I have some control over the movement. I even used to get car sick in the back seat of the family car when we went on holiday. The funny thing is that I never once had any trouble during my astronaut training, and that included some pretty hair-raising manoeuvres."

They had reached another clearing. The rain seemed to have eased off a bit. Above them they could see Thunderbird Two.

Neil looked at the underbelly of the plane. "Hey, that's some umbrella we've got!"

Virgil's voice came out of nowhere. "I can see someone. Due north of your position."

"Great!" Alan and Neil pushed on.

Barry rushed back to where Mako and Croft were sheltering. "There's a big plane overhead. I think it's seen us!" He knelt close to Mako. "It's all right, mate. Helps on its way, you'll be right soon."

Still unconscious, Mako was oblivious to what was going on around him.

"How can you be sure?" Croft asked. "How could anyone see us from a plane? And what's a plane doing out in this weather anyway?"

"I could be wrong," Barry told him, "but I think I saw the word 'Thunderbird' on the side of the craft."

"Thunderbird! But that's an International Rescue craft, isn't it? I guess they're the only ones who are able to reach us in this storm."

They became aware of another sound over the roar of the wind. Barry grabbed Croft's arm. "That's them. C'mon." Together they rushed out from the protective shelter of the cliff face and began to signal wildly at Thunderbird Two.

"This is International Rescue," Virgil's voice boomed out over a tannoy system. "We can see you. Two of our operatives are heading in your direction from the south." As if on cue Alan and Neil struggled out of the thick undergrowth.

"Gidday," Neil greeted them. "Hear you need some help."

"Do we ever," Barry told him. "Mako's not looking good." He led the way back under the jutting cliff that had been their home for the last two days. "The sooner we can get him to a hospital the better."

"Has he been unconscious all that time?" Neil asked.

"He's regained semi-consciousness sometimes. Hasn't seemed to be able to understand us though, and has tried to communicate with his ancestors in Maori."

"Really! That's interesting." Neil was examining Mako's head wounds. "Ka te pai koa a pouri," He murmured. Mako's eyelids flickered.

"What did you say?" Alan asked.

"Just told him everything's going to be fine."

Barry was staring at Neil. "You're a New Zealander!"

Neil tried to appear unconcerned. "I've spent some time here, yes."

Alan spoke up, his American accent contrasting sharply with the others. "In our line of business it helps to know several languages, unfortunately I haven't learnt Maori."

Neil had finished his examination of Mako. "Right. You've done a good job patching him up. I'll just do a little remedial work and then we can stretcher him out of here..."

"You're not going to carry him out in this weather, are you!" Croft broke in.

"No, the track's impassable. Besides we don't need to. Thunderbird Two will be able to lift us all out."

While Neil continued with his ministrations, Alan took the opportunity to wander about looking for a clearing large enough to received Thunderbird Two's 'elevator' car. He found one, 10 metres further north of their position, that was fairly easy to reach. He'd just finished radioing this information to Virgil when Barry appeared at his side.

"Your associate says he's ready to go."

"Good." Alan surveyed the sodden cliff face. Cracks were appearing everywhere and rocks jutted out unnervingly. "That wall's absorbed a heck of a lot of water. It doesn't look too secure. The sooner we get away from here, the better." A lump of earth rolled down, narrowly missing the two men. They hurried back to the others.

It only took a few minutes to manoeuvre Mako onto the stretcher. Neil hurriedly packed up his pack, which he swung onto his back. "Right! Lets go..."

There was a roar and an avalanche of onrushing rocks, mud and debris suddenly blacked out the murky light. Instinctively Alan and Neil threw themselves over Mako to protect him. It seems as if they were going to be buried alive...

Chapter Twelve: Collapse

 Virgil had been keeping an eye on the cliff face through scanners mounted on the underside of Thunderbird Two. He saw the side of the hill disappear in a cloud of mud and water. He reached for the microphone.

"Alan! Neil! Can you here me?"

There was no reply. He tried again. Still nothing.He changed the frequency and was soon relaying what happened to Scott.

"Any sign of them yet?" Scott asked grimly.

"Negative. The landscape's changed so much, I can barely pick out where they were."

Scott thought a moment. "There's nowhere you can land nearby, is there?"

"No."

"Okay, come and pick me up and you can drop me at the site..."

They were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Alan to Thunderbird Two and Scott. Do you read me?"

Scott fairly shouted into the mike. "Alan! Are you all right?"

"Yeah, we're all fine. A few scratches and that's all. Our radio got buried under all this rubble. Our patient's okay, but now we can't get him out. It seemed as if the entire world crashed down on us."

"Close," Virgil told him. "The entire cliff side has subsided."

"Yeah, well, we can't climb out, the fresh debris is too unstable and the stretchers too unwieldy and the hole in the, ah, roof, is to small to airlift him out."

"Can someone climb through that hole?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Alan didn't sound convinced. "He'd have to climb up the original cliff face, assuming it's stable enough. I've got rock-climbing gear in my pack. The problem then is how to get the stretcher out."

"And there's definitely no other way out."

"Definitely."

"Well then, we'll just have to make the hole bigger."

Virgil had returned to Mobile Control and now Scott was getting a firsthand look at the pile of mud and rock that imprisoned the five men below. He whistled. "Messy."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed, "d'you think we can clear enough of that debris without bringing more down onto them?"

"Don't know. Explosives would be too dangerous."

"I guess our only option are the pincer grabs."

"Yes. It's going to be tricky though. One false move on our behalf and..." Scott didn't need to finish his sentence. He gave a sigh and stood up. "Right, let's get cracking. Bring Thunderbird Two down as low as is safe and I'll get the grabs into position." He disappeared out of the cabin, leaving Virgil to manoeuvre the giant plane into position.

The weather hadn't improved at all, although the radar screens were showing that the eye of the cyclone was nearing. Virgil hoped that the eye would hover over the area long enough for them to effect the rescue. It would be so much easier all round if the wind would die down temporarily.

His thoughts were interrupted by Scott's voice. "I'm in position."

"Right. Can you see the hole?"

"I think I can see the edge of it. Move left-left two degrees."

Virgil made the adjustment and through the hatch in Thunderbird Two's undercarriage Scott saw the hole swing into view. "Right, Virg. Stop there!" He heard the sound of the jets lessen as the plane hovered over the hole. Alan was right, there was barely enough room for a body to crawl through, let alone airlift an injured man tied to a stretcher.

Scott activated the grabs. Slowly they descended from Thunderbird Two's underbelly. Made of Herculerium, they weighed nearly a ton, but even so the wind caught them and set them swinging. The motion ran through the plane.

Virgil's voice came out of Scott's earphones, "Gosh, that wind's strong." The sound of the jets started up again as Virgil made the necessary correction to keep Thunderbird Two in position. "That wind had better die down before we have to move our man."

Scott agreed. Watching the grabs sway like a flower in a gentle breeze did not make him feel confident about his ability to use the grabs effectively and safely. Well! He'd just have to concentrate more.

The grabs had reached their destination. Scott spoke into his microphone. "I'm ready to start."

It was Alan who replied. "Great, Scott. We've moved as far away from the opening as is practicable. Be careful though. We haven't got a lot of room down here."

Scott started on the outer slope of the rock pile, hoping that gravity might assist him in sending the dangerous debris away from those trapped inside. The grabs opened out like a giant hand, grabbed a 'fistful' of debris from the bottom of the pile and dragged it away.

The debris pile stayed obstinately still.

Neil grabbed the microphone. "Hate to hurry you guys, but the sooner we can get this guy to hospital, the better he'll be."

"Right!" Scott replied. "Brace yourselves, I'll try and remove the top edge of the rock pile."

The first 'fistful' of debris was removed without incident. Scott manoeuvred the grabs so the waste was deposited away from the danger zone. Once again he lowered the grabs, opening them out as wide as they would go in order to speed up the extension of the hole.

A gust of wind, twice as powerful as anything they'd experience earlier, caught the grabs and swung them into the cliff face.

"What the heck!" In the cabin of Thunderbird Two, Virgil fought the controls as the craft bucked around in its counter motion.

The movement tossed Scott around. Just as he was flung against the wall he caught a glimpse of something large flying through the air beneath them.

"You alright, Scott?" Virgil queried over the intercom.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Scott stood up and rubbed his elbow where he'd banged it against the wall. "That was some gust of ...Would you take a look at that!"

"What?" From Virgil's perspective, he couldn't see where Scott was pointing.

"There's a tree caught in the cable. It's huge. That last gust of wind must have blown it there."

A large Rimu tree, its graceful branches hanging forlornly at an unnatural angle, was wrapped around the cable. Scott estimated the tree to be about 30 metres high with a girth of about three metres diameter.

"Will it cause any trouble?" Virgil asked.

"I doubt it." Once again Scott activated the grabs.

Nothing happened.

He tried swinging the grabs away from the hole so that he could dislodge the tree.

"Hey! What's going on?" They could here Alan's voice. "Is everything okay up there?"

"Yeah, fine," Scott replied. "I'm just having a problem shifting the grabs."

"No wonder. They're wedged between the cliff face and the debris. Shut them a fraction and you should be able to withdraw them."

Scott tried to close the grabs jaws. The controls did not respond. "Something seems to be jamming them." He said over the intercom.

"Could it be that tree?" Virgil asked.

"I doubt it. It's too high up the cable and besides the grabs are shielded against foreign bodies."

"Try again!"

"I am. Nothin's happening."

"We've got to do something. If I raise Thunderbird Two up, would it dislodge any debris?"

"Yeah, probably bring the whole lot down onto them. The tree as well!"

"We can't cut the cable in case the grabs fall."

"Right!"

"So we've got to find out what's jamming the grabs open."

"And the only way we're going to be able to do that is to get a man to inspect them." Scott changed intercom channel. "Alan, can you hear me?"

"Sure thing, Scott."

"We've got to find out what's jamming the grabs. Can you climb up and check it out?"

Alan glanced at Neil and then looked up to where the grabs were stuck. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Okay, do it. Once we know why we can't close the grabs, we can remedy the problem."

"Right, I'm onto it. Out." Alan started readying his equipment.

Neil came over to him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he said quietly.

Without looking up from his work, Alan replied equally softly. "What choice have we got. You've got to look after that guy and we can't expect the others to do our work. It's only a reconnaissance manoeuvre. No sweat."

"Okay," Neil said reluctantly. "Let me know when you need a hand."

Alan was soon kitted up. He stepped into his harness, adjusted the straps and began his ascent.

It wasn't the highest climb he'd ever done, by any means. Heck the cliff they practised on back on Tracy Island was higher than this. The danger came in the precarious nature of the cliff. Alan had no way of knowing if it would hold his weight.

So far so good, he was at least half way there. Alan drove a chuck into the cliff, looped his safety line through the carabiner and looked around for his next foothold. Finding it, he crawled a little further upwards. Now for the left foot. That was holding. Now the right hand, left hand...

He felt about, trying to find the smallest ledge that would support his weight. There was nothing within reach. Looking past his outstretched arm he spied a good-sized, secure looking outcrop of rock. He could put all his weight onto his left foot and make a grab for it.

No that was too risky. Looking down, Alan found a ledge above the one that his left foot was standing on. He put his weight onto that and it held. His right foot found safety on another ledge and he found that the rocky outcrop was now within reach. His left hand closed around it...

The rock came away in his hand. Thank heavens he hadn't gambled on it holding. He remembered the training session when Neil had released the safety line. Alan had been annoyed at the time, but although he hated to admit it, it had been a good lesson. He dropped the lump of rock to the ground and continued his climb.

"How're you going?" Neil called up from below.

"Fine," Alan shouted back. "Only a few minutes more." His objective was only a couple of metres away. Those few minutes seemed to take forever. At last he was able to touch the Herculerium. Alan cast an expert eye over the machinery. From this angle he could see nothing that would prevent the grabs from working. Once again he spoke into his intercom.

"Scott."

"Yes, Alan."

"I'm going to have to climb out onto the grabs to get a better look. Make sure you've got them set at full extension. I don't want them suddenly collapsing on me."

"F.A.B. Be careful."

Gingerly he adjusted his angle so that he was actually clinging to the grabs. He then slowly started to climb along one set of jaws, trying to concentrate on finding what was impeding the grabs while at the same time trying to ignore the drop to the ground below him.

He reached the fulcrum. Each joint had a protective shield to prevent bits of debris jamming in the pivot point. It was unlikely, but it was possible that something had managed to work its way up under this shield. He took a tool out from a pocket and loosened the shield on his side. He was then able to raise it out of the way. Nothing. With a mild curse he reassembled the shield.

"Scott, I'm going to have to climb across to the other side of the fulcrum. Watch out in case my weight shifts things."

"Okay, Alan."

Alan glanced down at the party below. They were bent over Mako. Neil was working on him and it looked as if he was installing another drip. They'd have to get him out quickly. Alan started his transfer from one side to the other.

"His blood pressure's dropping." Neil looked at the two Rangers. "We'll have to hope that that drip will keep him going until we get him to hospital."

"How long will that take?" Croft wanted to know.

Neil looked up to where Alan was inching across the grabs. "I don't know. It all depends on how soon we can get that hole big enough to lift him out.""

Scott was getting a different view of Alan's traverse of the grabs, his brother's blond head standing out clearly against the blackness of the hole below. "Found anything, Alan?"

"Negative. So far everything is clean. There must be something under the other shield."

"I'd come down and give you a hand, but with this wind, it's still too dangerous."

Alan looked up. The tree was flapping wildly in the wind. "No, you stay there, and you and Virgil concentrate on keeping this thing as steady as possible until I'm well clear. I'm removing the other shield now." He lifted the shield clear. "Can't see anything... hang on, what's this?"

"What?" Scott asked eagerly.

"It's a bit of rock, about 5 centimetres diameter. It's jammed in under the shield and stopping the jaws from closing." Alan tapped at the stone with his climbing hammer and it came free dropping into his hand. He put both the stone and the hammer into a pocket and started to make his way back the way he came. Once he had a firm grip of the cliff face he readied himself to abseil down. "Right, activate the grabs."

"Are you clear?" Scott asked.

"Clear enough. We haven't got time to waste."

The two jaws slowly came together and the grabs rose up out of the hole. Alan had to swing out of the way to avoid some falling rocks. His descent was much quicker than the climb.

"So you succeeded then?" Neil said when Alan had rejoined the group.

"Yep, not a problem," Alan told him.

They all looked up as the grabs took hold of some of the debris and moved it to one side. They could now clearly see the undercarriage of Thunderbird Two.

Neil turned back to Mako, checking his pulse, blood pressure and breathing. "Hang on, mate, we're nearly out of here," he told him.

Mako's eyelids flickered and he groaned. "Hey, that's a good sign!" Alan exclaimed.

The grabs took another bite at the rock pile and through the branches of the Rimu they were able to read the words 'Thunderbird Two' on the underside of the plane.

Virgil checked the weather gauge. "The eye of the storm is overhead, Scott. Now's the time to evacuate them, the wind's starting to ease off."

"We've got to get rid of that tree first," Scott reminded him.

"Okay. I'll move Two forward a fraction. Lower the grabs so that the tree brushes through the canopy. With any luck we'll be able to dislodge it."

Scott lowered the grabs so that they were nearly scraping along the forest floor. As Thunderbird Two moved forward the Rimu got hooked up in the limbs of an ancient beech.

"Hold it!" Scott ordered. He experimented with retracting the grabs slowly. At first it met with resistance but suddenly the Rimu slid off the cable and fell to the ground. A fountain of leaves and twigs marking its final resting place. The grabs retracted into the undercarriage. "Okay, Virg. We're clear to continue with the rescue."

Scott repositioned himself so that he could operate the rescue elevator. He lowered it towards the ground, experiencing only a fraction of the wind interference that the grabs had had to contend with.

It was no sooner on the ground before Alan and Neil had Mako, still strapped to his stretcher inside. Alan stepped out again. "You two had better go first. I'll wait with these guys for the second trip."

"Okay." Neil shut the elevator door and sent the signal for the elevator to be lifted out. Scott activated the winch and the car started rising up through the hole.

The winds hadn't completely died down and as the elevator cleared the top of the hole a gust caught it and swung it against the cliff face. Neil was thrown against the wall. Mako let out a groan as he was forced against the straps that held him secure.

Down below Alan and the two D.o.C. Rangers crouched low, protecting their heads from the debris that pelted down onto them. When the shower of rocks subsided they stood up again.

"Hey!" Croft said pointing skywards. "That rock wasn't there before!"

They all looked up. Balanced on the very edge of the cliff was a large boulder about the size of the elevator car that had just left. Clearly it had been knocked loose in the last gust of wind. It would only take another knock and that boulder would come crashing down into the hole. And if that went then chances were it would take a large part of the cliff with it. For the three men trapped inside, there could be no escape.

Alan raised his microphone to his lips. "Calling Thunderbird Two."

Scott was assisting Neil with Mako so it was Virgil who answered his call. "Go ahead, Alan."

"That cliff's looking mighty unstable. If the elevator knocks it again it could bring the whole lot down on us. You'll have to winch us up individually."

"Right. I'll get that sorted now."

The winds had died down enough that Virgil felt comfortable leaving Thunderbird Two hovering on autopilot. He descended to the bay that held the winch gear and had it prepared for their first airlift by the time Scott had returned.

"Aren't we using the elevator again?" Scott asked.

"The cliff's too unstable," Virgil told him. "We'll have to lift them out one at a time." They lowered the rescue harness at the end of the cable into the hole.

First Barry then Croft were lifted out of the confines of the hole, into the open air and then into Thunderbird Two. Finally it was Alan's turn.

"Ready, kid?" Scott radioed him.

"F.A.B."

Scott flipped the switch that set the winch in motion. Alan's feet left the ground and he found himself heading skywards. He couldn't help comparing the feeling with being launched in Thunderbird Three.

Barry and Croft were settled in the cabin adjacent to the sick bay, Neil was ensuring that Mako was prepared for the flight to the hospital, satisfied that everything was going according to plan Virgil headed back up to the flight deck. As he sat back into his pilots' seat he glanced at the weather radar. It clearly showed angry clouds heading in their direction at a great velocity. He opened the radio link with the winch room. "Storm's heading this way fast!"

Scott had had no time to digest the meaning of those words when the first storm surge hit. The wind grabbed at the cable that joined was pulling Alan to safety. The cable snapped like a whip against the cliff face. Alan found himself caught up in a mini avalanche of dust and stones. Temporarily blinded and choking on a lung full of dust, he found himself flung about like a rag doll. He was slammed against the cliff and had what little breath he had left knocked out of him. He was dimly aware of the unstable boulder being just above him and the thought flashed through his mind that it might come crashing down onto him at any moment.

Scott hit the intercom to the flight cabin. "Get more height! Fast!"

With the instinctive reaction borne of years of practise, Virgil pushed the throttle forward that sent Thunderbird Two heading upwards.

Alan's out of control legs were swung into the cliff, just below the boulder, knocking more rocks down. Unable to take the weight of the boulder any longer, the cliff finally collapsed, just as the recoil from the cable sent Alan swinging away from the cliff. The boulder grazed its way past his legs on its way down to the ground below.

From his vantage point in the underbelly of Thunderbird Two, Scott was helplessly observing the drama as it unfolded. As soon as he was sure that his brother was clear of the hole, he sent a message to Virgil to stop the craft's rapid ascent.

Alan was dangling limply at the end of the cable. Scott reactivated the winch and hauled him into Thunderbird Two. As the hatch beneath them closed, Scott lowered his brother gently to the floor. "Alan! Can you hear me?"

Alan coughed, dragged in a ragged breath and replied, "'Course I can hear you." He shifted his weight. "Help me out of this harness, it's killing me."

They unloaded Mako, Croft and Barry in the car park of the hospital where the injured man was quickly wheeled into the emergency room. He had regained consciousness during the flight and weakly grabbed at Neil's hand in gratitude. "Kai ora," he managed to gasp.

"Ae. No worries, mate," Neil replied. He let go of Mako's hand and stopped trotting alongside the gurney.

As Mako disappeared through the hospital doors, the Tracy brothers turned to Neil. "What was that little conversation about?" Virgil asked.

Neil shrugged. "Nothing much. He said 'Thank you'."

Scott laid a hand on his youngest brothers' shoulder. "Are you sure that you don't want to get checked over while you're here? That was quite a battering you took."

Alan shrugged Scott's hand off. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a few bruises, that's all." He turned and walked stiffly towards the hospital entrance, aware that he would have a pair of multicoloured legs for the next few days.

Scott shrugged and raised his hands to Neil and Virgil in a 'what else can you do' gesture.

As they climbed back into Thunderbird Two, Scott had a thought. "Hey, Alan. What was that rock that jammed the grabs? It must have been pretty tough."

"Dunno. I have it here, hang on..." Alan felt in his pockets, "...here it is." He fished it out. "Seems to be some type of green stone."

"Here, let me see!" Neil took the stone. "You know what you've found, mate?" Alan shook his head. "It's a piece of Pounamu, New Zealand Jade. It's tough alright, nearly as hard as diamonds. It's also sacred to the Maori."

"Sacred, huh. Guess I'd better leave it here then." Alan took the stone from Neil and gave it to Scott. "Would you mind dropping this off for me when we get back to D.o.C. Headquarters?"

"Yeah, sure." Scott took the stone and examined it. Where the grabs had rubbed against it the surface was shiny. "Bet it would polish up well."

Neil fished around in his own pockets. "Sure does." He pulled out a small flat shape on a length of cord. The intricate carving was a highly polished dark green colour. "I carry it for luck," He explained. "It was a gift from my father shortly before he was killed." A look of sadness flashed briefly across his face to be replaced by his usual smile. "It hasn't failed me yet."

Chapter Thirteen: Final Chapter

Gordon lay unmoving in a crumpled heap on the ground. Blood oozed from a cut in his forehead. His left leg was pinned beneath a large boulder. Above him there was a shout.

"I can see him!"

First Scott, then Neil, Alan, and finally Virgil scrambled down the bank. They advanced on their fallen comrade.

"How's secure that rock face?"

"Dunno. Might come down at any moment."

They reached Gordon's side. "Hang on, mate. We'll get you fixed up and out of here." Neil was unslinging the First Aid kit from his back. The others busied themselves stabilising the exit route and preparing the stretcher.

"How's he look?" Scott asked.

"Won't know for sure until we get that boulder off him and back to base. After a fall like that he could have all manner of internal injuries." Neil checked Gordon's pulse, blood pressure and then fossiked about in the kit. He pulled out a syringe, fixed the needle to it and then filled it with a clear liquid.

"What do you think you are going to do with that?" Gordon had one eye half open, watching his associate's actions.

"You're supposed to be going into shock and this is to prevent it. Don't worry, it's only a weak saline solution. It won't hurt."

"Won't hurt, huh!" Gordon had both eyes open now. "I get enough needles against legitimate diseases, you're not going to stick that into me now!"

"Aw c'mon Gordon, this won't hurt a bit. I need the practice."

Gordon had now raised himself onto his elbows. "You might need the practise. I don't!" He kicked the fibreglass boulder off his leg and stood up. "You can get some other dummy to practise on." He stood up, grabbed a bit of cotton wool from the First Aid kit and wiped off some of the fake blood from where it was running into his eye.

Seated in his office, Jeff was watching the action on a monitor. From here he could observe his operatives' movements without impeding their actions. It had been a long day and clearly they were all tired. He would want them to be fully alert if a real call out occurred. He flicked a switch.

"Okay, boys. Let's call it a day."

Back at the 'accident scene,' his voice appeared to come from nowhere, although they all knew that it was being transmitted via a tiny robot that buzzed about them like a fly. They started clearing up. Gordon grabbed the boulder, raised it to his shoulder, Atlas like, and headed for home, still grumbling to himself. No way was anyone going to stick any needles into him!

Neil was met by Jeff as he was heading to the stores to restock the First Aid kit. "How're you finding it, Neil?"

"Great, Mr. Tracy. All this training can get a bit hard at times, especially when your victim won't lie around and take his medicine, but I'm enjoying the challenge."

"Glad to hear it. We really appreciate the work you're putting into our team. Brains is still working on his mannequins, but he tells me that when he's finished, you won't be able to tell it from a real person. Except that you will be able to stick as many things into it as you want and it won't complain."

Neil laughed. "Sounds ideal."

Jeff looked at his watch. "Dinner won't be ready for another hour, so you're free to do what you want till then."

"Thanks, Mr. Tracy. I might catch up on some reading."

Neil headed back to his room, showered and changed and then sat down on his bed. He looked around the room and sighed in contentment. He'd made a few changes to it, added some photos and posters and hung up his certificates, just a few touches to make it feel like home. His favourite picture was a photo that he'd taken on a trip in Thunderbird Three. It was a small portion of the earth and on that cloudless day he'd been able to see both New Zealand and Tracy Island. He'd snapped the photo hurriedly not expecting it to turn out. That one photo encapsulated the two places where he'd felt the happiest. His old home, and his new one.

And it did feel like home, he reflected. He was enjoying a brotherly relationship with the Tracy boys, and Jeff, while he couldn't replace Neil's own father, was beginning to take on the attitude of a benevolent Uncle. The others all treated him as part of the family, and for the first time since his parents had died, he felt that he finally belonged somewhere. Propping up the pillows so that he could sit back comfortably, he looked out the window. The Pacific Ocean was blue today, highlighted by the sun glinting off the tips of the smallest ripples. Another perfect day. Just like the one in the photograph...

...The klaxon that reverberated around the building was not the one that called them to dinner, but the one that alerted them that someone, somewhere in the world needed their help. Neil leapt off his bed and was the first one into the lounge.

John's eyes were still flashing in time to the beeps. Jeff activated the two-way communication with his oldest son.

"I've had a call from the police in London, England. There's been an explosion in the 'Diamond' hotel complex." John paused. "They think it sounds like it was a bomb."

A knot of anger formed in Jeff's stomach. He could handle being involved in rescues caused by accidental causes, but when one human being deliberately sought to harm another... He ignored the anger and continued to get information. "How many people involved?"

"They don't know exactly. Apparently there's going to be some kind of charity gala held there today. Champagne breakfast, a show, that kind of thing. The guests were still in their rooms, but staff were setting up and the actors were having a final rehearsal. The police are trying to get hold of the contractors and hotel managers to work out how many people could be inside."

"Have we got a rough estimate?"

"Could be as many as 500."

500! It was going to a big rescue. They will need all their speed and skill to ensure that the trapped victims were rescued alive.

"Scott! Get going! Take Tin-Tin with you! She can man Mobile Control - you'll be needed elsewhere."

"Yes, sir!" Scott grasped the two light fittings and rotated out of the room. Tin-tin followed him by the same route.

"John! Any chance anyone could be trapped in the basement?"

"Negative. They were able to check it out."

"No need for the 'Mole' then. Virgil! Take Pod Two. The rest of you go had better go with him."

The sun was still glinting off the Pacific Ocean as the cliff face folded back. As Thunderbird Two rumbled out onto its runway and the palm trees tilted back, Neil strained against his safety belt to see the house. He could just make out Jeff's figure on the balcony. The figure was joined by another, obviously Grandma Tracy. As the great plane tilted up towards the sky he settled back into his seat.

They were all silent as Thunderbird Two launched itself into the air; each engrossed in their own thoughts. What would they find when they got there, how long would it take, had anyone been badly hurt - or killed?

"Bother!"

The others looked at Neil who was fishing about in his pockets.

"What's up?" Gordon queried.

"I forgot my Pounamu Pendant. I showed it to Brains and then put it on my bedside table. I was going to put it into my uniform, but just forgot about it. Oh well..." he settled back into his seat. "...it's just a bit of superstition anyway."

The white fluffy clouds looked trouble free and peaceful. Unviolated by human actions...

...London was in the midst of chaos. Scott did a sweep of the bomb site in Thunderbird One before touching down.

By his side Tin-Tin surveyed the scene. "Scott, how awful. Do you think there will be many survivors?"

"I don't know honey. We'll just have to work the hardest we ever have to ensure that there are." He cut the engines. "We're here." He said unnecessarily, his mind already concentrating on the task ahead. "Do you want me to go over anything more with you?"

Tin-Tin shook her head, her pretty face a mask of concern for those trapped. "No. I'll be fine."

"Good." Scott stood up, itching to get started, but aware that he was limited with what he could do until Thunderbird Two arrived. "We'll get Mobile Control set up and then we can decide on a course of action." Together they readied the communications console for its upcoming duties.

Outside the people of London awaited International Rescue's assistance.

Chapter Fourteen: London

 Scott and Tin-Tin were waiting when Thunderbird Two touched down and disgorged its occupants.

"We've good news, of sorts," Scott informed them. "Turns out there's not as many people involved as first feared. The new estimate puts it at closer to 100."

"How come?" Gordon asked.

"Traffic jams, rail stoppages, overslept. All sorts of reasons. The hotel guests rooms were on the far side of the building. As the show wasn't due to start until 9.00 a.m., they weren't in any hurry to get to the restaurant. The police are trying to get a final figure so we know how many to look for.

"The plan is this. Virg and I will check the outside for survivors. The rest of you can get the TBM33 set up. Once we're sure the coast is clear, we'll use the TBM33 to enable us to enter the building. Virgil and I will search, Gordon and Alan will transport patients and Neil will monitor the TBM33. Tin-Tin will maintain the link between each of us, the rescue authorities, and base. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Okay." Scott took a deep breath. "Let's get started."

The bomb had gone off in the northernmost corner of the building, just inside the entrance. Originally three stories high, the top two stories had pancaked onto the one below.

The main body of the building had been a restaurant/theatre complex. The tables had been set for breakfast and the stage was prepared for the live entertainment when the bomb went off. They knew now that waiters, actors, chefs, and stagehands were all trapped inside. To the south, the attached hotel had been evacuated. The once proud façade was now battered and broken by the force of the blast. Glass in broken windows periodically gave way, a lethal waterfall onto the devastation below.

Scott and Virgil moved towards the wreckage of the building. Part of the roof had slid off its trusses and had partly covered the doorway. The northern wall was standing at a crazy angle. Bricks and mortar were laying all around, a gaping hole in the corner of the building showed where the bomb had gone off.

All of a sudden Virgil stopped in his tracks, a cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

Scott came to a halt beside him and looked at him in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know... Nothing I guess. I've just got a feeling."

"What kind of feeling."

Virgil was feeling slightly foolish. "This is silly, Scott."

"Tell me."

"Well I just feel that something bad's going to happen."

Scott peered closely at his brother. There was no hint of any jocularity in Virgil's handsome features. In fact, he looked quite pale. And Virgil was not the sort to play practical jokes at a time like this.

"Something bad? What?"

"I don't know. Oh just ignore it, Scott. We've got a job to do."

At that moment Neil came running over. "Hey guys, what's the hold up?"

"Nothing," Scott told him. He looked at Virgil again and made a decision. "Neil!"

"Yes, Scott."

"Get into your rescue gear. You're coming with me and Virgil will stay out here."

"Yes, sir!" Neil gave a half salute and was away running.

Scott's eyes followed Neil until he was out of earshot and then turned back to Virgil. "Feel better now?"

Virgil hesitated. "Yes and no. Now I feel guilty."

"Don't. It will give Neil some experience and I have a feeling that we'll need your expertise out here."

Gordon came trotting over. "Hey, what's up? Neil just told me that he's going in instead of Virgil. Why?"

Scott shrugged. "I just thought that Neil needs the experience."

Neil came running back at full speed. He stood in front of the Tracy brothers, panting slightly. "Ready when you are."

Scott had one last look at Virgil, whose face still held a frown. "Right let's go," he stated firmly.

As they watched them climb onto the roof of the building, Gordon turned to Virgil. "What's happening? Scott wouldn't change plans at the last moment without good reason."

Although a deep-seated worry still continued to gnaw at him Virgil pulled himself together. "I guess he had his reasons. Come on, we've got work to do, too."

Scott and Neil took their time clambering over what remained of the roof of the building, checking every crevice for any sign of life. In the end they had to admit defeat.

"Guess everyone was trapped inside," Neil said.

"Well that's just where we're going to have to go," Scott told him.

They rejoined the rest of the team beside four pylons, still laying on their sides, that had been unloaded and assembled from Thunderbird Two. "No sign of life up there," Scott informed the others. "We're going to have to enter the building and do a thorough search. Is the TBM33 ready to go, Brains?"

"Y-Yes. We've ch-checked and rechecked the system."

"Great." Scott turned to Virgil. "You and Gordon want to do the honours?"

"On our way." Virgil and Gordon jogged over to where Thunderbird Two squatted in the car park. The others stood by and waited.

A roar of jets told them that Thunderbird Two had lifted off and the giant green transport plane swung into view from behind some buildings. Looking as ungainly as a bumblebee in flight it hovered over the demolished hotel. It's undercarriage then emitted a stream of liquid that coated the surface of the building, where the roof had once been. This was TBM33, one of Brains' secret inventions, a kind of glue that bonded to the topmost surface of the ruined building, joining the shattered pieces together.

Once a complete seal had been obtained Virgil manoeuvred Thunderbird Two so that it hovered over the pylons. Inside Thunderbird Two Gordon activated the machinery that lowered four strong hawsers. Working together Scott, Alan, Neil, and Brains attached the hawsers to one end of one of the pylons. When they had finished they stood clear.

Scott spoke into his microphone. "Lift away!"

Virgil activated the vertical jets and Thunderbird Two rose higher into the air, raising one end of the pylon with it. Eventually the metal structure was hovering in the air. Virgil flew the plane so that the pylon was in line with the corner of the building. Reducing its height caused the broad end of the pylon to make contact with the ground. Gordon triggered a button and stakes were fired into the ground, anchoring the pylon in an upright position. Using a video camera attached to the pylon, Gordon was then able to fire a miniature canon that sent another 2 hawsers flying from the pylon and into the ground at right angles to the sides of the building. While he was doing this Virgil returned Thunderbird Two to its original position above the prone pylons.

They repeated this procedure three more times. Pylons number two and three slipped into position easily but pylon four had to be positioned with more care.

Thunderbird Two hovered above the building, its wingtip dangerously close to the top of the hotel at the side. "I can't get down any lower, Gordon," Virgil said. "You're going to have to do the best you can."

"Can't you move further south?"

"Negative. There are other buildings in the way."

Gordon managed to lower the pylon into position, but although the stakes secured the pylon upright, he was only able to secure one of the stabilising hawsers. He joined Virgil in the cockpit.

"All set?" Virgil asked.

"Well..." Gordon was unsure. "Pylon number four isn't braced as well as I would like. The one hawser I managed to secure is not set at the optimum angle. We'll just have to hope it holds."

By the time Thunderbird Two had landed and Virgil and Gordon had rejoined the rest of the team, the TBM33 was a solid plane, having permeated the top metre of the roof's rubble. Virgil took command of the control module that they had set up beside Mobile Control as the rest finished their preparations. Powerful computers connected to video cameras calculated the correct placement of eight more hawsers that went sailing out of the pylons and embedded themselves into the top layer of the building. Keeping a watchful eye on the instrumentation before him, especially pylon four, Virgil activated the winch mechanism that retracted the eight hawsers in the TBM33. Slowly the roof started to rise from where it had fallen barely an hour before.

Virgil had been so intent on this procedure that he started when he became aware of Scott standing at his shoulder. Boy I'm jumpy, he thought.

Scott glanced at the console, "All okay?"

Virgil double-checked the readouts. "F.A.B.!"

Lady Penelope had been invited to the gala, but rather than spend the night at the Diamond Hotel, she had decided to stay at a friend's house. "So much more convivial."

She had risen at 7.00 a.m. and at 7.50, she and Parker and the shocking pink Rolls Royce had nosed their way out of the driveway.

She patted a yawn. "I can't get used to getting up at this time and not having breakfast. I'm not awake until I've had my morning cup of tea."

"H'I anticipated that, M'lady." Parker gently steered the big car around a corner. "H'I've taken the liberty of concealing a thermos of hot tea h'in the cocktail cabinet."

"Parker, you think of everything." She gently pressed a button and a panel in the back of the drivers seat slid open. In it was a variety of drinks and glasses. Tucked in the corner was a vacuum flask and a china cup and saucer. She poured herself a drink and settled back in the cushions. "What is the time..." she glanced at her elegant gold watch. "Dear me, 8 o-clock, we're missing the news. Parker switch on the radio, please."

The authoritative tones of a radio news anchor man drifted out of the state of the art speakers. "...Diamond Hotel. The hotel was to be the venue of a Charity Gala, raising money for the International Red Cross. Initially there were fears that as many as 500 people were trapped, but that number has been revised down to 63. International Rescue is on the scene. We will update you as more information comes to hand. In other news..."

Parker turned off the radio. "Guess breakfast is out of the question, M'lady."

"Indeed, Parker. But we don't know why. The gentleman said that International Rescue was on hand. Perhaps Scott would have time to fill in the details. We may be able to help." She activated the radio link "Lady Penelope calling Mobile Control." Tin-Tin's face appeared on screen. "Why hello, Tin-Tin!"

Tin-Tin smiled. "Hello, Lady Penelope. You've heard the news."

"Not really. We were on our way to the Gala ourselves when we heard the tail end of the broadcast. We thought we might be able to help."

Tin-Tin explained what they knew. "We were worried that there were more trapped, but the fates are being kind today. There's been a rail strike, which has prevented a lot of workers coming in. There was also a traffic jam on the main roads into London and one group was travelling together and got lost." She gave a bitter smile. "It would be funny if it wasn't so tragic."

"H'It must be a big rescue," Parker commented.

"Yes," Tin-Tin agreed. "That's why I'm doing this job. Scott's joined the search party."

"Is there any idea who set the bomb?" Lady Penelope wanted to know.

"No. Naturally the place is swarming with police and security people, looking for clues. Apparently some quite important people, apart from yourselves, were going to attend. This security lapse has got quite a few people worried. What they really want to get at is the bomb, to see what information they can get from that, but they can't reach it until we've done our bit." She gave a short laugh. "At least we don't have to worry about security for the Thunderbirds."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't think so, Lady Penelope. At least not at the moment, and not without risking your cover. We'll let you know if we hear of anything you can help us with or if we hear of any clues."

"Thank you, Tin-Tin. Give the boys our best."

Tin-Tin's face vanished from the screen. Lady Penelope gazed out at the scenery flashing by. Parker glanced at her in the mirror.

"Thinkin' about 'ow we can 'elp, M'lady?"

"Yes, Parker. As Tin-Tin said, we don't want to risk breaking our cover. But by the same token we can't let such an event go without at least making an effort. We will continue on to the scene of the explosion and decide what to do next then."

"Yes, M'lady."

Scott and Neil entered the building.

Neil took in the destruction. "What a mess!"

"Yeah and somewhere in that mess are people who needs rescuing. Come on."

They gingerly started to clear an access route. As they got further into the building they began to realise that the damage wasn't as bad as was first thought. The basic structure was still pretty much intact. Scott radioed this information back to Virgil.

"Great!" Scott could hear the relief in Virgil's voice. "We're launching the life detectors now, and we'll give you a bearing shortly."

"Thanks."

And so the rescue effort got underway in earnest.

Some hours later they stopped to replenish their supplies, get their bearings, and boost their energy levels. Scott had reported to base and had downed one drink and was about to start another when Virgil pulled him to one side.

"Let me go in instead of one of you guys. You've all had it."

Scott took a sip of his drink. "Do you still have that 'feeling'?"

Virgil straightened up. "No!"

Scott looked at him levelly. He was willing to admit that he was tired and drained, but he was still observant. "You never could lie convincingly, brother. You're staying out here..."

"But Scott..."

"But nothing. If you want to know the truth, I've got a bad feeling about this, too, and I'd be happier knowing that your clear head is out here should anything go wrong." Virgil opened his mouth to protest again. "I'm not taking any arguments. You're staying out here! And that's an order!" He turned to walk back towards the rest of the group and then checked himself. "And this is another order!" He softened his tone, "if anything should happen - to me - you're to take charge. Okay?"

Virgil nodded mutely.

The other men in the group were watching the exchange surreptitiously as they refilled their rescue kits.

"What do you s'ppose is going on?" Alan asked.

"Don't know," Gordon responded, "it's not like Virg. to be 'on the front line', and why did Scott pull him out at the last minute?" He turned to Neil. "Did they say anything to you?"

"Nope."

"V-Virgil seems to have been in a l-less than even temper," Brain ventured.

"That's unusual," Neil said. "I haven't seen him lose his temper once in the time I've known you guys. And I would say that there's been times when he's had ample reason to lose his rag."

"Shush," Alan raised a warning hand. "Here comes, Scott."

Scott rejoined Neil and the others without comment. Virgil headed back to his station and scanned his instruments for any sign of weakness with any of the pylons - all seemed normal. He stabbed angrily at a button.

Tin-Tin had observed what had appeared, for them, to be a rather heated argument between the two brothers. She couldn't understand why Virgil hadn't been taking a more active part in the rescue but decided that there must be a good reason. Scott was heading back towards the demolished building and Virgil was frowning at his console.

"Virgil?"

"Mmm?" He was engrossed in his instruments.

"Is something wrong?"

He looked up. "Wrong?"

"You just seemed to be angry at Scott."

"Angry at Scott!" Virgil seemed surprised. "No way!" He frowned again. The others must be wondering why he hadn't been helping out more. Tin-Tin with her Eastern background would at least understand where he was coming from. He gave her a quick run down of what had happened. "I know it seems silly..."

"No it doesn't."

"... but Scott said he wanted me fresh in case something does go wrong. In the meantime I've got to stand by and let the others do the work! If I'm angry at anyone it's me, for letting my imagination run riot."

"And you still have this feeling that something's going to happen?" Tin-Tin asked.

"Yeah, if anything it's getting stronger." He flashed her a quick smile. "Don't worry about it, just call it male intuition." He returned his concentration back to his work.

Tin-Tin turned back to Mobile Control. She didn't want to say anything to Virgil but she'd had a bad feeling about this rescue too. She'd put it down to a lack of on the job experience, but if an experienced campaigner was experiencing doubts too... A cold shiver ran down her spine.

The London shadows lengthened as the day crawled on. Neil and Scott, working deep amongst the debris, located the living - and the dead.

Alan and Gordon acted as stretcher bearers, bringing the survivors out into the fresh air, and when they had the time - releasing the dead as well.

Tin-Tin sat at Mobile Control, maintaining a link between those at work and those on Thunderbird Five and back at Tracy Island.

Brains poured over blueprints and made suggestions of ways to improve their search, and devised a more efficient form of TBM33.

Virgil cooled his heels monitoring the stresses and strains exerted by the suspension wires and their supporting cables, making minute adjustments when needed - and cursed his own foolishness.

And still the threatening shadows grew in size.

Scott and Neil picked their way gingerly through the rubble, aware that at any moment they could dislodge a beam or strut and the whole structure could come tumbling down onto them. They had rescued nearly everyone who was reported to be in the building and were doing a final sweep of the area. Miraculously there had been little loss of life although some were in a critical condition.

Neil hesitated, swinging the receiver in his hands in a shallow arc, trying to pick up signs of life. He froze when the pulsating light changed from red to green. "There's someone over here! And he's alive!" He and Scott pushed forward in the direction indicated.

"Thank heavens for that. Then we can clear out of here."

Their target was lying in the debris, trapped by a fallen beam. His eyes lit up when he saw his rescuers. "At last! I was beginning to think that no one would find me."

Working together, Scott and Neil jacked up the beam and slid the man out from underneath. Neil gave him a quick examination. "Do you feel any pain?"

The man nodded his head. "Yeah. That leg's hurting pretty bad." He sucked in his breath and bit on his lip as Neil removed the cloth sticking to the blood that was congealing on his skin.

Neil gently probed the wound and then prepared to cover it with clean bandages. "We'll get this fixed up and then we'll see about getting you out," he said. He looked up when Scott tapped him on the shoulder.

"This guy should be the last, but I'm going to have a quick check that there's no one else trapped."

Neil nodded his head in affirmation. "Rightio, mate. Give me a yell if you need a hand."

Seated at Mobile Control Tin-Tin watched the screens, monitoring her colleagues' progress, noting Scott's icon moving away from Neil's. She stiffened when a new image appeared on the monitor in front of her. She slammed the communications switch to open. "Scott! Neil! There's another bomb!"

Inside the building Scott swiftly responded. "What? Where?"

"To your west." Tin-Tin was shouting now. "Get out of there now..."

She had no sooner finished the statement when she was engulfed by the force of the bomb.

A tidal wave of dust and debris spewed out from the epicentre of the explosion. A fireball forced its way into the sky. Smoke and dust filled the air making it difficult to breathe and impossible to see.

Already weaker than the others, pylon four couldn't take the extra strain. It teetered, held its ground for a moment and then collapsed onto the remains of the demolished building.

People ran in a panic colliding into obstacles and each other, blinded by the rolling waves of dust. Alan, running in the direction of Mobile Control tripped over something in his path. It was Gordon, a cut on his head causing a trickle of blood to run down the side of his face.

Alan knelt by his brother. "Gordon! Are you all right?"

Gordon sat up and gingerly fingered his sore head; his fingers came away coated in blood. "Yeah, I'm all right. I hit the deck when the bomb went off and banged it on the ground. I'll live."

Alan helped him to his feet and together they ran to the Mobile Control. Brains was already there.

Virgil picked himself up from where he'd crouched behind Mobile Control. His mouth went dry when he saw the devastation. It looked like all his worst fears had come true. Scott's words came back to him. "If anything should happen - to me - you're to take charge." He took a deep breath and marshalled his thoughts into a plan of action.

Lady Penelope and Parker had taken advantage of the confusion to join the rest of the International Rescue team. Tin-Tin was desperately trying to raise Scott and Neil on their intercoms and the others were trying to find an explanation as to why their sensitive instruments hadn't detected the bomb earlier.

"It could have b-been started by s-some kind of remote," Brains theorised.

Virgil started getting back into his overalls in preparation for rescuing his colleagues. "With some kind of radio signal? But whoever set it off would have to be within close range."

"Which means they could be escaping now," Lady Penelope said grimly. "Parker, we have some work to do."

"Yeah," Parker growled. "And now it's personal."

As they turned to leave Virgil grabbed Parker's arm. "Don't do anything rash. We want justice, not revenge." He turned back to Tin-Tin. "Any luck?"

Tin-Tin shook her head sorrowfully. "No, Virgil."

Virgil looked at the remains of the building that entombed his brother and his friend. A fine haze of dust hung over the scene and the sun shining through gave the bomb-site an ethereal glow. He turned his back on the scene to outline the plan of action. Scott had said that he was to be in charge and as he'd been involved in more rescues than any of the others, no one was about to challenge his authority. "Tin-Tin, keep trying. Let us know the instant you get a response. Don't radio base yet. No need to worry them unnecessarily. Brains, you stay here, if anything else goes wrong you and Tin-Tin will have to direct the rescue authorities. Alan, we'd better get started. Gordon...you stay here." He was about to turn away when Gordon stopped him.

"No way I'm staying back here. Don't forget they're special to me, too."

Virgil looked at his brother. "Okay," he relented. "Get Tin-Tin to clean and dress that wound. When that's done, you can join us."

As Alan moved towards the disaster area a quiet voice stopped him.

"Alan."

He turned. "Yes, Tin-Tin."

"Be careful."

He could see tears in her eyes and he tried to put a brave face on it. "You bet. You know I'm always the one who has to rescue these guys." He turned on his heel and ran to catch up to Virgil. They climbed the few metres to the top of what remained of the building. They stopped to decide on their route.

The top of the building reminded Virgil of glacial ice that had cracked under the force of the pressures from the mountain above it. Only this was no slow landscape that had taken form over decades. This had happened suddenly and violently.

The TBM33 had held the roof together in parts but they could clearly see where the second bomb had gone off. It had lifted the roof into the air as the explosion had forced its way free and then slammed it back into the ground.

The fallen pylon lay almost exactly where they estimated Scott and Neil's last position to be, a mass of metal mixed with concrete and wood. Even the TBM33 had been pulverised at this point.

They started to work to Scott and Neil's last reference points when Alan found himself saying something he thought he'd never say.

"Virg. I'm scared."

Virgil looked at him and could see the fear in his youngest brother's eyes. "Yeah," he acknowledged. "Me, too."

They started making their way through the rubble, their victim locators shining red.

Chapter Fifteen: Manhunt

In FAB-1, Lady Penelope and Parker began to realise the enormity of their task. They had no clues to go on. They tuned into the police wavelength to see if the authorities had any idea. It seemed that no one had been seen acting suspiciously or running from the scene.

Parker slammed his hand onto the steering wheel in frustration. "What do we do now, M'Lady?

Lady Penelope was looking over his shoulder at an individual who seemed calmer than the rest of the public, a mocking grin on his face. As she watched he pocketed what appeared to be a small radio and retrieved an envelope. Looking around he spied a letterbox, calmly posted the letter and sauntered over to his car.

"Lady Luck may be on our side Parker. See that, er, gentleman getting into that van to your right?"

"Looks a shady sort."

"He seems rather assured of his safety. I think it would be wise if we were to have a word with him."

"Right you are, M'Lady." The pink Roll Royce purred into life in pursuit of the grey van.

Lady Penelope opened the communications hatch. "Lady Penelope calling Mobile Control."

Tin-Tin's face appeared on the video screen. "Yes, Lady Penelope?"

"Any news?"

Tin-Tin's face saddened as she shook her head. "No, nothing yet."

Lady Penelope tried to sound reassuring. "Don't give up, Tin-Tin. No news is good news, they say." Tin-Tin nodded in agreement, but Lady Penelope could see in her eyes that she didn't hold out much hope. "Tell me, is there anyone from the security services nearby?"

Tin-Tin frowned in thought. "There's a Colonel Banks..."

Lady Penelope leaned forward eagerly. "Is that Colonel Ralph Banks?"

"I don't know... Just a moment. Yes I think I do remember someone calling him Ralph."

Lady Penelope smiled. "Could you put Colonel Banks onto the line, Tin-Tin? No need to say that you know me. I'm just a concerned citizen who thinks she has some information that might help, who happened to call International Rescue."

Tin-Tin's video image disappeared for a few minutes to be replaced by that of a distinguished looking man with a large handlebar moustache.

"Well, bless my soul! Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward! When the young lady told me there was someone with some information, I would never have dreamed it was you."

"Ralph, my dear boy, what a surprise!" Lady Penelope lied. "I wouldn't have thought that you would be part of International Rescue!"

Ralph Banks chuckled. "Afraid not, old girl. I'm still part of the old, er, establishment. Anyway, why are you calling? The International Rescue lass said you thought you had some information."

"Well Ralph, I was on my way to the Gala when I held about the first explosion. Of course I had to see what had happened. We arrived just in time to witness the second explosion. While we were waiting, I happened to see a young man calmly hide what looked like a remote control device, post a letter and then drive away and..."

"And your suspicions were aroused," Colonel Banks cut in. "You always had a nose for finding troublemakers. Can't think why you left the business. You're in pursuit of course."

"Of course. He's heading south."

"You still driving round in that shocking pink Rolls Royce of yours."

"Of course, Ralph. You know I never go anywhere without my comforts. If you send some backup, tell them my new number plate, FAB-1. I grew so tired of the old one."

"Thanks, old girl. I'll give them that info. In case they're colour-blind." He signed off after Lady Penelope had given him further details about their quarry and turned to Tin-Tin. "FAB-1. I wonder why she's got that number. I never could understand that woman." Tin-Tin just smiled sweetly.

On the bombsite, the three Tracy brothers were feeling more despondent with every passing moment. As they picked their way over the wreckage their victim locators continued to shine red. Virgil stopped to get his bearings and check on the others' progress. He swept the locator in an arc and the red light flickered!

He retraced the arc at a slower speed and the red light dimmed and changed to green. He let out a shout. "I've found something." He started ripping away the debris with his bare hands.

His reply was a cry from Gordon. "Me too, over here!"

Alan continued to check the area with his locator but the only changes to the display were in the same areas as where his brothers were frantically digging. We're looking for three people, he thought, but we're only registering two alive... His thought's were broken by a shout from Virgil.

"Alan! I need a hand to shift this beam!"

That task was completed and Alan was summoned back to help Gordon move a particularly obstinate chunk of concrete.

Virgil paused in his efforts. He could hear something. It sounded like a voice. Was it his imagination or did it sound like Scott's? He doubled his efforts but it seemed like an age before he reached his goal. It was a boot with pale blue trim. Reassuringly it moved. Without breaking his stride he yelled out to the others. "I've found Scott. He's alive."

Without stopping Alan and Gordon allowed each other a brief smile of relief. They had found no sign of life, although the locator beacon was still glowing green.

Virgil pushed aside the last bit of rubble, Scott dazzled by the sudden glare of the sun, squinted up at him. "Took you long enough."

Virgil grinned. Looked like big brother was going to be okay. "You hurt?"

Scott slowly sat up, easing muscles that had been confined for too long. "No, I don't think so. Nothing really hit me."

Virgil assisted his brother to his feet. "So you weren't knocked out at all?"

Scott shook his head. "No." A look of concern came over his face. "Where's Neil?"

Virgil's grin disappeared. "Gordon and Alan are looking for him now. Why don't you go and rest."

"Nothin' doin'. I've been lying there resting for the last half hour, I'm going to help!"

Virgil patted him on the back. "How about radioing Mobile Control first and letting Tin-Tin and Brains know you're all right."

Tin-Tin nearly cried with relief when she heard Scott's voice. "Scott, you're okay?"

"Sure am, honey. Just a bit dusty that's all. I'm going to give the others a hand."

"F.A.B. Scott." She turned to Brains. "Isn't that wonderful news?"

"Y-yes it is, Tin-Tin." Brains' enthusiasm was tempered by the fact that they still had no word on Neil. "D-do you think you should t-tell Lady Penelope?"

Tin-Tin agreed. "You're right. She should know."

Lady Penelope and Parker, still tailing their suspect, were both delighted at the news. As Parker put it, "Should 'ave known Mister Scott was too tough to let ha bomb stop 'im."

Although all four of them were working feverishly the pile of debris didn't seem to be getting any smaller.

Alan threw a lump of concrete onto the waste pile. "We must be getting close."

Gordon paused. "Shush."

Scott knelt beside him. "What is it?"

"I thought I heard something. Listen! There it is again."

Virgil crouched down too. "Yeah I heard something too. We're on the right track." They resumed their efforts.

A couple of boards were discarded and a voice, clearer now, was heard again.

"Help! Is anyone there? Help me!"

"We've got to move this plank! Alan, grab the other end..." Virgil took a good grip on his side. "Right, one, two, three, heave!" Together they moved the wood away from its resting-place.

An arm lay exposed. Its silver overall tattered, revealing a blue sleeve underneath.

Scott knelt down and checked for a pulse. He looked back at his brothers and shook his head.

For a moment they stood there stunned, unable to move until a voice galvanised them into action again. "Help me, will someone help me?"

They cleared the rest of the debris away and gently lifted Neil's lifeless body clear. It was obvious to them all that he had had no chance of survival. Still deeper in the rubble they found the last survivor.

"You've saved me, you've saved me." The man was babbling. "I was sure we were going to die. That man from International Rescue, he saved my life, threw himself on me to protect me."

As Scott radioed Tin-Tin for a stretcher and paramedic team the man grabbed Gordon's arm. "He saved my life! You realise that, don't you! I want to thank him. I can't see him. You'll thank him for me, won't you?"

"Yeah," Gordon mumbled, "yeah, we'll tell him."

Two paramedics, carrying a stretcher between them, arrived. One of them stopped to check on Neil. "He didn't have a hope." He noticed the uniform. "He was one of your team, wasn't he?"

"Yeah." Scott rubbed his hand wearily over his face. It felt gritty. "Yeah, he was one of the team."

Virgil looked at Scott in concern. "You look all in. Why don't you go have a rest? We'll take care of ... things."

"I'll have to let base know first."

"That can wait." Gordon was standing at Scott's side now. "We haven't told them that anything was wrong."

"You haven't told them..." Scott was incredulous.

"It was my decision," Virgil told him. "I didn't want to worry them unnecessarily. So I'll make the call."

Scott shook his head. "It's my job to communicate with base, so I'll make the call. I'll tell Brains and Tin-Tin first and then I'll go clean up. Once that's done, I'll radio home."

Brains and Tin-Tin saw Scott approach Mobile Control and ran over to meet him. Tin-Tin gave him a big hug. "I'm so glad you're okay!" she said. "Any word on Neil?"

Scott nodded. There was no easy way to say this. "He didn't make it."

They were astounded. "Y-You m-mean he's..." Brains couldn't finish his sentence.

"When the bomb went off, he threw himself on the other guy to protect him and took most of the blast. The paramedics are bringing the injured man down now."

Tin-Tin frowned. "John's been trying to find out what's going on. I've told him that things are taking longer than expected. Shall I go and tell him what's happened?"

"No. If he calls back tell him I'll give him a rundown shortly. I'm going to go and get cleaned up and then I'll radio home and tell them. In the meantime," he said aware of a need to keep them occupied. "you can shift Mobile Control back into Thunderbird One, I can make the call from there. There's not much point hanging around here any longer than is necessary."

He turned and walked towards Thunderbird Two. Once inside he made his way through to the changing room and collapsed into a seat.

Their quarry was aware that he was being pursued. At times he would speed up to try and lose them. Then he would slow down so they could catch up.

"'E's playin' with us, M'Lady."

"Yes Parker, that does seem to be the case. I wonder how he will react when the authorities arrive."

"'Ang about. 'e's stoppin'!"

It was a deserted stretch of road. Stretching straight as a die for about a mile on either side. Any other vehicles approaching would be easily seen before they got even close.

Parker brought FAB-1 to a standstill ten metres behind the van.

"What do we do now, M'Lady?"

"Wait and see what he does, Parker."

As they sat in the car for what seemed to be an eternity, they relayed their exact co-ordinates to Ralph Banks.

"Can you keep him covered, Lady Penelope? We're stuck in rush hour traffic, can't move forward or back!"

And still they waited.

The drivers door to the van swung open and a jean clad leg emerged.

"Swipe me. 'E's getting' out."

"That does appear to be the case, Parker."

"D'you think we should meet him halfway?"

"Not until we are sure he's unarmed." Lady Penelope sent a message to Colonel Banks. "Ralph, I'm going to send you a video of the suspect."

The man sauntered past the bonnet of FAB-1, unaware that the flying lady hood ornament was tracking his progress, a tiny video camera recording his every move. Smiling sardonically he leant on the roof and peered into the car. "Nice day for a drive in the country," he said.

Lady Penelope smiled at him as she slipped a diamond-studded clip into her hair. "You are so right."

"Good to get away from the dust and dirt of the city and into the fresh country air," the man continued conversationally.

"Indeed."

"Of course, as you know, London is much dirtier and dustier today, since I set off those two bombs." He was talking as if he were still discussing the weather.

"That is true."

Still frozen in the traffic, Ralph Banks watched and listened to the drama that was playing out before his eyes, courtesy now of Lady Penelope's hair clip.

The man folded his arms and leant against the side of the car, still chatting unconcernedly. His presence made it impossible for either of them to open the doors on one side and he could have escaped back into the van by the time they had got out of the other.

"I suppose you are wondering why I did it."

"The thought had crossed our minds." Lady Penelope was playing it as cool as he was.

"Fame. It's that simple. I want my name to go down in the history books."

"By hurting people?"

"Sure. It's easier that way. Instant notoriety. Of course I wasn't going to give the game up, straight away. I wrote a letter to The Times, explaining that I'd done it and giving my name as 'The Bachelor Bomber'. Snappy title, don't you think?"

"Why not try to help people instead?"

"No fame in that. And no lasting recognition. I want to be like Lee Harvey Oswald, Jack the Ripper, Adolph Hitler. Instant recognition. Say those names and everyone knows who you're talking about and what they did."

"The same can be said for Mother Teresa, Mahatma Ghandi, Nelson Mandela, and Martin Luther King. People who were peaceful and helped others."

Parker turned his head away from the man as if he were inspecting the rear vision mirror. "Bonkers. He's stark raving bonkers," he said quietly.

"They can be the most dangerous," Lady Penelope replied. "We had better ensure that he does not escape again." She covertly opened a panel and pushed a button.

The man, sweeping his arms about and shouting as he enjoyed his vision of his own immortality, brushed against the Rolls Royce's side. What appeared to be a fleck of silver paint adhered itself to his clothes. Lady Penelope gave a little smile as a flickering light told her that the action had been carried out successfully.

The man carried on ranting, unaware that he now carried a homing device. "Imagine, my name will be on everyone's lips. 'The Bachelor Bomber.'

"You know," he swung back so that he was leaning right up against the window, staring directly at them, "I was going to bomb several sites before I gave up, install terror into the hearts of people all over Britain. But I don't need to now! Know why?" Lady Penelope and Parker shook their heads. "Cause it suddenly dawned on me, as I saw those International Rescue guys go back into the building. I could get better publicity by killing them. Don't you see? Good verses evil and evil triumphing!"

You didn't kill Mister Scott, Parker thought, you've at least partially failed.

"The mighty, invincible, Good International Rescue, stopped, by me!" A speck of dust appeared further down the road. "Hello, we have company. So this is farewell, my lady." He pretended to doff a cap. "Be sure to tell your friends that you had the pleasure of meeting 'The Bachelor Bomber.' You be the toast of high society." With that, he was gone, running into the van and driving away.

"After him, Parker!" But the big Rolls Royce was already in motion.

A voice came over the radio. "We can see you, Lady Penelope. Keep sight of him till we catch up." Ralph Banks' car was now clearly visible behind them. "He'll swing when we catch him. One of those International Rescue chaps were killed."

"Nei...No! That's terrible news!" For a moment even Lady Penelope was visibly shaken. She cut the radio connection to Colonel Banks and turned back to Parker. "Well now we have a personal reason for catching our 'friend'."

"If H'I get my 'ands on 'im..." Parker started.

"Now, Parker, Virgil was right. We want justice, not revenge. Neil wouldn't want us to behave in any other way."

"Yes, M'lady."

"However, that doesn't stop us from aiding justice's cause," she continued. "If he were to get a puncture..."

"My, that would be terrible." Parker grinned. A pair of crosshairs appeared on his monitor and he lined them up with the left rear wheel. A single shot fired from FAB-1's radiator grill was all that was needed as with a bang the tire disintegrated.

But it didn't faze the man at all.

"'E's goin' faster! 'E'll kill 'imself."

A shower of sparks streamed out from the damaged wheel. The van, listing badly, started to weave all over the road. The left front wheel blew and the van swerved into a ditch, tumbling nose to tail along the grass verge.

It came to a rest on its hood.

FAB-1 pulled up, closely followed by the car full of Secret Service men. They approached the driver's door cautiously.

The van was empty.

"Stone me! 'Ow'd 'e escape that?" Parker exclaimed.

"Dashed if I know," Colonel Banks said, "But we've got to catch him. Look," he directed his comments at Parker, "you stay here. This is a young man's game." He set off after the other agents.

"Cheek!" Parker exploded. "I'll give 'im 'young man's game.'"

"Now, Parker, keep calm. After all Ralph doesn't know about your, er, talents. Besides we have no need to go rushing through the corn. We know exactly where our quarry is heading." She held up the homing device's receiver.

Parker grinned. "E ain't got a chance with you on 'is tail, M'lady."

"We can't let him get too much of a head start Parker, the device only has a small range." They set off in pursuit of their quarry.

The signal led them to a farmhouse hidden in a valley. The sounds of the birds and the adjacent brook gave the scene an idyllic air, far removed from London, bombs and death.

"You'd better do the introductions, Parker," Lady Penelope instructed. "He knows my voice."

"Right you are, M'lady." Parker strode over to the farmhouse door and gave three raps on the door. Lady Penelope stood half hidden behind him.

The lady of the house answered the door. Parker tipped his chauffeur's hat to her. "H'excuse me, madam, but our car 'as broken down and we was wondering if you would permit h'us to stay 'ere until the mechanic arrives."

The lady was full of country charity. "Of course, com'on in. We can't have people sitting in their cars when our house is available. It's almost like Piccadilly Station," she continued on conversationally as they followed her through the lounge. "We have another poor soul whose cars broken down already here. Makes you wonder how they make vehicles today." They emerged into the kitchen. "Have a seat."

Two other people were already in the kitchen. "I'm Madge, this is my husband Bob," she indicated a slightly overweight man seated in a rocking chair, "this is the other gentleman I was telling you about."

"Pleased to meet you." Lady Penelope was as gracious as ever. "I do hope we are not inconveniencing you."

"Not at all." Madge hadn't noticed that her other house guest had stiffened perceptibly at the sight of the newcomers.

"It's just that you never can tell when help might arrive. We noticed a van, upside down in the ditch, on our way here."

"Really?" Bob sat up in interest. "It wasn't there earlier when I did my rounds. Could be that someone's hurt." He made to get up out of his chair.

"Oh, no, the van is quite empty." Lady Penelope reassured him. "We checked. It appears that the occupant has fled." Her last comment was directed at the third man. "I'm sure that the authorities will be here shortly to catch up with him."

The third man spoke. "What if he doesn't want to be caught?"

Lady Penelope gave an airy wave of her hand, but she was watching him like a hawk. "Oh, the authorities are quite marvellous and very efficient. To paraphrase the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, they always get their man."

Madge was nodding her head enthusiastically. "You're quite right," she agreed. "We have a very efficient local constabulary."

"Of course, it may well be that they don't know about this van," Lady Penelope continued on. "I think it would be wise to let them know."

"Yes, you're right," Madge agreed. "I'll go and ring straight away." She left the room to make the call from the phone in the hall."

"If you'll excuse me," Bob levered himself up out of the rocking chair, "I'll just go check the out buildings. He may be hiding in there!" He exited through the back door.

While they had been making what appeared to be idle chit chat, Lady Penelope and Parker had continued to keep an eye on their target. He was inching closer and closer towards the back door. He was about to follow Bob out when Parker grabbed him by the arm.

"Why don't you stay and keep us company?" He offered with a sly grin.

The other struggled to break free but was surprised by the strength in Parker's grip.

Lady Penelope walked over so she was standing beside him. "Dear me," she said, "you don't look at all well. Why don't you have a seat over here?" As she was speaking she took him by his other arm. With a look of mute surprise he collapsed into the proffered seat - unconscious.

Lady Penelope replaced the stone in the ring that had administered the tranquillising injection. Just then Madge bustled in. "They're all busy on some other, oh..." She noticed the unconscious man. "Oh dear, what happened?"

"He said he didn't feel well and passed out," Lady Penelope lied. "Parker, why don't you go see if our car has been, er, fixed. I'm sure that our friend would appreciate a ride to the, er, hospital in our Rolls Royce."

"Very good, M'Lady." Once again Parker tipped his hat to Madge and departed the house. He was back a short time later.

"The car 'as been repaired, M'Lady. H'I have taken the liberty of driving it to the front door."

"Well done, Parker. Help me get our 'friend' into the seat."

Bob stood up. "Excuse me but I can't stand by while a lady like you lifts a stranger. Let me help." He grabbed under the man's arms and assisted Parker.

Outside Lady Penelope turned to the married couple. "You have been most kind. If you will excuse us, we will rush this, er, gentleman to where he will get the attention he deserves."

As the pink Rolls Royce sped away down the driveway Bob whistled. "Phew. Did you see that car, six wheels and I'll bet she's got plenty of grunt. Wouldn't do any good to carry the pigs to market though."

Scott had been sitting, running various phrases through his mind. It was no good. He couldn't put off calling base any longer. He stripped off his overall and went over to his locker where he had stored his pale blue sash. As he put it on he froze. Neil, in his haste to get changed, hadn't closed his locker door completely and his black sash peeped out.

Scott picked up the sash and clutched it to his chest. He then turned and marched resolutely to the door.

Outside, he was met by Virgil. "Are you okay? Tin-Tin said you'd been in there quite a while."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just going to make the call now."

"Well," Virgil looked uncomfortable, "We've made arrangements with the authorities. We can load th... hi... everything onto Thunderbird Two and then we're cleared to leave."

"Right, then I'd better make this call."

"You sure you don't want me to do it?"

Scott looked Virgil in the eye. "Yeah, I'm sure." He walked over to Thunderbird One and disappeared inside.

Virgil went in the opposite direction towards a waiting hearse.

Inside Thunderbird One, Scott sat at Mobile Control and wasting no time established a link with Thunderbird Five.

John's face appeared on screen. "Scott, what's going on? Tin-Tin's been giving me the run around or not answering calls and the police radios are talking about another bomb and someone being dead!"

Scott felt a twang of alarm. "You haven't said anything to Dad?"

"No, I thought I'd better get my facts straight first."

"Sorry John, we should've kept you up with the play. Things have been so confused down here. There was another bomb and Penny and Parker are after the bomber." He paused. "Neil was killed in the second explosion." His saw John's face go pale.

"Was anyone else hurt?"

"No, not seriously ... Virgil's arranging to bring him home."

For a moment neither of them spoke then "John, I'm going to have to tell Dad. Can you put me through?"

"Yeah, sure." Before he disappeared from the screen John gave Scott a look of sympathy. This was not a task that he would what to do himself.

Jeff appeared on the screen his face changing from interest to concern. "What's wrong, son?"

For some reason Scott found it impossible to speak. He'd rehearsed this speech so many times in his head and now he couldn't get the words out.

He found his voice. "We've got a problem..." What a silly way of putting it. Go on say it. He knows something's wrong, probably knows what by the way I'm acting. "He's dead, Dad."

His father closed his eyes, what was he thinking, was he remembering other important people in his life who had been taken away just as swiftly, just as cruelly? A jumble of thoughts rushed through Scott's mind, reliving past tragedies, his maternal grandparents, his grandfather, his mother ...

When Jeff opened his eyes again, he uttered only one word. "Who?"

Who? Scott thought. Haven't I told him already? I can't have. I've run through this so many times I can't tell the difference between what I've said and what I've thought.

He looked down. Still clutched tightly in his hand was Neil's sash. Scott brought it up to examine it closer. Black! Ironic under the circumstances.

Scott realised that someone else had walked into the lounge. He heard the words "Have you seen my..." and realised that it was his Grandmother.

"Mother, you'd better sit down..." Scott felt for his father having to break this terrible news. "There's been an accident."

"Oh Jeff, not..."

Although Scott couldn't see her face he could imagine her expression. He remembered it well from when his mother had died. Shock and surprise melded into one.

Jeff's voice broke into his thoughts. "Scott! As soon as everything's sorted there, get everyone home."

"Yes, Dad."

"I know it's the last thing you'll all want to do, but I want a written report on what's happened from everyone."

"Yes, Dad."

"Oh, and Scott!"

"Yes?"

"Bring Alan and Tin-Tin home with you in Thunderbird One. They can go and get John as soon as they get back. At a time like this, we should be all together."

"F.A.B."

Scott signed off. He was alerted to the sounds of someone entering his craft. It was Virgil.

"Ready when you are, Scott." He sounded tired.

"Good. Dad wants us to leave A.S.A.P."

"How'd he take it?"

"You know Dad. If he was English, he'd have a stiff upper lip. It was pretty much a shock though. Grandma came in while we were talking and he had to tell her. Alan and Tin-Tin are to fly home with me. He said it was because he wanted to get John home straight away, but I have a feeling he was worried that I was going to crash Thunderbird One or something."

"Good!"

Scott looked at Virgil curiously. "Why do you say that?"

"You've been through more than the rest of us and it shows. If any of us looked like you do at the moment, you'd demand that we got some rest. We were just discussing how we were going to convince you to let someone else fly you home."

"Oh you were, were you?" Scott pretended to be mildly affronted. "Well they've been ordered to accompany me, but I'm flying my bird." He stood up. "How're you feelin', Virg? You're looking shot too."

Virgil shrugged. "I don't think it's really hit me yet. C'mon, lets get going."

The rest of their team were waiting outside.

"Everything okay?" Gordon asked.

"Yeah. Father wants Alan and Tin-Tin to fly home with me so they can go get John. He also wants a full written report from everyone as soon as possible. If you want to, you can make a start on the flight home." A black sedan pulled up, closely followed by a pink Rolls Royce. "Looks like we have company."

Ralph Banks got out of his car and came striding over to the group. "Good, you're still here. I know it's not much comfort but you will be glad to know that we've caught the blighter, thanks to this lady here." He acknowledged Lady Penelope. "Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. Saw the chap acting suspiciously and followed him. Helped us catch him several miles down the road."

"That's good news," said Scott quietly.

"He's admitted setting the bomb. Said he wanted 'infamy.' Guess he's going to get it."

"If I may make a suggestion," Lady Penelope said gently, "perhaps in this case the Press would be good enough to not publish his name or his alias, out of respect for International Rescue. In my view, it would be the best punishment for him, as it would mean that he has ultimately failed."

"You could be right." Ralph Banks looked thoughtful. "If we can persuade the Press to go along with it. We could site national security or, as you say, out of respect for all that you chaps have done." He indicated Scott and the others. "Of course, he'll still be looking at a stiff sentence. Wilfully endangering life, detonating an explosive device in a public place, murder!" Tin-Tin stifled a sob. "Sorry my dear, tactless of me."

"Well, we're glad that he's not going to be able to hurt anyone else," Scott said, "but if you will excuse us, we're under instruction to get back to base straight away."

"Of course..."

"And if you will excuse me too, Ralph," Lady Penelope interrupted, "I've received word that some friends of mine have recently had some bad news, I must leave immediately to offer what support I can." She gave the briefest of glances to Scott who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Goodbye," Scott shook Colonel Banks' hand, "thanks for all you've done." He entered Thunderbird One, followed by Alan and Tin-Tin. Lady Penelope and Colonel Banks retreated to their cars.

"I'm sorry you've got to run off," Colonel Banks was saying, "I was rather hoping that we could have dinner and catch up on old times. But as you say, you've got friends who need you and I've never known you to let a friend down."

"Goodbye, Ralph, and I hope the Press agree to co-operate."

"So do I. You never can tell with those chaps. They'll either think it's the biggest scoop ever or else they'll play ball." He turned to Parker. "Thanks for your help, old man. Couldn't have done it without you."

Once again Lady Penelope wished him goodbye and slid into her car. As the Rolls Royce sped away she could here Parker grumbling. "'Old Man'! Give me the chance and I'll show him 'Old Man'!"

"Now Parker, at least Ralph did thank you."

"Sorry, M'Lady. Where to now?"

"The airport! I believe Jeff may require a little moral support at this time."

Chapter Sixteen: Funeral

Everything had been finalised. Neil's wish had been to be cremated and have his ashes scattered of the Tarawera Ranges that he'd loved tramping when he was younger. The New Zealand Government had given permission for the International Rescue craft to fly at low altitude in their airspace and had undertaken to ensure that prying eyes would be kept at bay.

Scott was on his way to the lounge when he almost bumped into Virgil. Both men were dressed in their blue International Rescue uniforms and had a black armband around their left arms.

"All set?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, just waiting on the others. There's going to be a crowd on board today."

"Yeah, well, you know Dad's flying with me."

"Yeah... I've just got to get something from my room." Virgil turned abruptly and walked away.

Scott wandered into the lounge. His father was the only one there, seated, as usual, at his desk. He was staring at a pile of papers in his hand. Scott glanced at them. They were their reports on the incident. He could tell by the indecipherable but artistic signature that the top one was Virgil's.

Jeff looked up. "Have you read any of the others reports?" he asked.

"No. We kept pretty much to ourselves while we were writing them up."

"This one of Virgil's..." Jeff frowned. "I haven't had time to read it fully. Its first words are, 'It was my fault.' What do you think he means by that?"

Scott paused for thought. "Probably that it was his decision not to keep you informed after the second bomb. You don't want to worry about that at the moment. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes." Jeff stood up and laid the sheets of paper on the desk in front of him. "We'd better get this over and done with." Scott stood to one side to allow his father past. After Jeff had left the room he went back to the desk and removed the top report, hiding it in an umbrella stand. He'd have a word with Virgil before he'd let his father read it.

From this high up, the New Zealand bush looked like a sea of olive green. It merged with a cloudless blue sky, the horizon undulating to the rhythm of the hills. Thunderbirds One and Two hovered like two harriers keeping an eye out for unsuspecting prey. In the distance jets of the Royal New Zealand Airforce kept a protective watch on the little ceremony that was occurring.

In Thunderbird Two, Virgil kept the great plane steady as his family and friends stood at the cabin windows. Grandma, John, Gordon, and Brains on one side of the console. Alan, Tin-Tin, Kyrano, Lady Penelope, and Parker on the other.

Over in Thunderbird One, Scott was sitting at his controls. Beside him was a cardboard container the size of a small loaf of bread. Its lid was loose. Behind him Jeff Tracy stood, one arm resting on the back of Scott's seat, the other holding Neil's black sash. His voice could be clearly heard in both craft.

"...And so we remember Neil, our friend, our colleague, and even though not in blood, a much loved member of our family. We are grateful for the time that we shared with him, grateful for the skills he shared with us, glad that we knew him and sorry to have lost him. We will now have a moments silence."

The airwaves were silent for a few moments and then Jeff laid his hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott pulled a lever and a trapdoor slid away from underneath the cardboard container. It fell, its contents pouring out over the landscape, the ash scattering to the four winds. His earthly remains may have gone, the container would rot and become part of the New Zealand ecosystem, but they would always remember Neil...

Epilogue

Virgil was sitting at the white baby grand piano. The tune he was playing was Mozart's requiem. He had hoped that the task would keep his mind off dark thoughts, but the music developed a mechanical quality as his mind wondered. The rest of the family sat, listening and not listening, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

At one end of the room was situated a new piece of furniture, simple in its design but filled with meaning. It was a pedestal topped with a locked glass cabinet. In it, resting on a piece of black cloth, was Neil's Pounamu pendant. Wrapped up within the folds of the cloth, so that its real significance was hidden to those who did not know, was Neil's black sash.

Alan was the first to break the silence. "I still can't believe that he's gone!"

Someone grunted an assent but the rest kept their funeral silence.

Alan persisted, "Still there's one good thing..."

Seven pairs of eyes turned towards him, willing him not to go on. Virgil kept his eyes glued to the piano keyboard.

"...that we should be grateful for..."

"Don't say it!" Scott warned him.

"At least it wasn't a member of the family."

Virgil quietly rose from the keyboard and walked out of the room.

Scott looked darkly at his youngest brother. "I can't believe you just said that."

Alan tried to defend himself. "Well, you can't tell me that the thought hasn't crossed your mind." He drew back slightly as Scott rose out of his chair. But Scott moved to follow Virgil out of the door.

"Why don't you grow up?" Scott growled as he walked past into the bright sunlight.

He followed the bleached steps down to the patio beside the pool and looked around. A figure was sitting on the beach and he made his way over towards it.

Virgil didn't look up as Scott approached; he sat staring out over the ocean.

Scott sat down beside him. "That Alan," he tried to sound light-hearted and didn't quite succeed, "has all the subtlety of a charging bull."

"He's right though, isn't he." Virgil's voice had a far off quality to it. "We are glad it wasn't one of us. And we both know that it should have been me, not him, buried under that pile of rubble. If I hadn't got some far fetched notion..."

"Now come on!" Scott admonished him. "We've been at this game long enough to know that there are risks. In fact we've been jolly lucky that something serious hasn't happened before this. And part of the reason WHY we've been so lucky is that we've trusted our instincts as well as our intellects."

Virgil angrily threw a stone down the beach and stood up. "If I hadn't chickened out..." He started walking along the beach. Scott started to follow him.

"You didn't chicken out. If you remember it was my decision to send Neil in instead of you. I decided that your 'hunch' had some merit, and I decided that you would be of more use operating from outside the building. Do you think I haven't already beaten myself up over that decision? I sent Neil on that death sentence. I could have just as easily sent Alan or Gordon, or insisted that you go. It was my decision and I made it because I trusted your instincts. In one sense I was right."

"I should have gone anyway. Neil didn't have the experience necessary. Perhaps if I had have gone I would have been able to react differently and escape."

"I doubt it. He didn't have much of a chance, not when he was trying to save that other man. You would have done the same, I know it, and so would I if I had have been in the right place. Every rescue we undertake is a gamble, and this time Neil lost."

Virgil was quiet for a time as he mulled over what had been said. When he spoke next he sounded more relaxed, more like his normal self. "It was weird, Scott. Something inside me was saying 'don't go.' I would have if I had to but I just felt... no, I knew, that to go would be a mistake." He gave a quiet chuckle. "Maybe my guardian angel was watching over me. Or Mother."

Scott smiled. "I often think that there's something keeping an eye on us, or else how else would we manage to achieve such miracles." They had reached the end of the beach and sat down on some rocks, worn smooth by centuries of tidal action. "How many times have we leapt out of the way of falling rubble or ducked flames because our instincts told us it was the right thing to do?"

"It doesn't always work that way. You know the first time I met Neil? On that job in Wellington? It was because of instinct that I crushed my hand, and spent several weeks in plaster afterwards."

"I think Alan's instincts need fine tuning. His instinct is to speak first and then think."

Virgil smiled at this comment. "Except when on a job. He seems to instinctively mature when it's necessary. As soon as the jobs over..."

"He's a kid again," Scott finished the sentence.

There was a moment of silence. A gull wheeled above them.

"Do you think Father will hire anyone else?" Virgil asked.

"I don't know. If he does, it won't be for a while. I'd say he's a bit gun shy at the moment."

They sat reflectively for a few moments longer then Scott spoke. "You know your report."

"Mmm."

"Dad hasn't read it yet. Only the first line. I told him that you were blaming yourself for not letting him know we had trouble."

"Well that's partially true."

"Is it still partially true?"

Virgil thought for a moment. "No. I guess not. You're right. It could have happened to any of us."

"Good! I've hidden it, so if you want to say that you grabbed it to make a few alterations..."

Virgil smiled. "Thanks. I might just do that."

They continued to sit, talking, enjoying the sun on their backs, being glad to be alive, until a shout from down the beach disturbed them.

"Hey, you guys." It was Gordon. "Your dinners getting cold."

"Dinner!" Scott and Virgil looked at each other.

"I'm starving," Scott said.

"You always are."

"Race you!"

"Last one there helps with the dishes."

"Hey!" Scott was suddenly handicapped by Virgil pushing him onto the sand. "Why, you..." he was quickly back onto his feet and racing along the beach. His slightly longer stride meant that he was gaining on his brother until the soft sand gave way under his feet and he went flying heels over head. His shout of surprise brought Virgil to a stop.

"My instincts tell me that you need some help." Virgil had a big grin on his face. He extended his hand to help Scott up. "You okay?"

"Yep, and twice as hungry."

"Tell you what, we'll call it a draw and both help clear the dishes."

"Tell you what," Scott had a better idea, "we'll call it a draw and make Alan clear the dishes."

"Deal."

They were almost at the house when Virgil turned to his brother.

"Scott."

"Yeah, Virg."

"You know I'm behind you 100% for every decision you make on a rescue."

Scott clapped him on the back. "Yeah, I know."

"And thanks for talking to me just then. I needed it."

"No problem. It helped me, too. I guess I had some unresolved issues I needed to sort out myself. Guess I needed to talk as well, so I should thank you, too."

They wandered back into the house, following a trail of inviting smells. Roast pork, apple sauce, carrots, potatoes, minted peas, and for desert, apple pie.

A lazy breeze danced around the palm trees. A pair of gulls squabbled over a morsel of fish and then flapped away lazily over the ocean. The waves lapped the white sands. Overhead the blue sky was devoid of clouds.

The pool was still. There was no one diving in, practising their swimming strokes or lazing by its turquoise edge.

The steps leading up into the house were almost blinding white as the midday sun reflected off them, but there was no one about to be dazzled by them.

All was calm.

<< To Black and Blue Part One