EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON by PURUPUSS RATED FRC

The Tracy boys live out their first rescue attempt, and then relive it years later.

Author's Notes: This story, 'Everything Happens for a Reason,' is initially set in 2046, and then in 2068.

I tried to keep the Tracy boys' dates of birth and relative ages to what 'Fanderson' (the Gerry Anderson Fan Club) says they should be, according to the information they provided to "Slow Dazzle" for their calendar series. I thought that as they had Gerry Anderson as an honorary member they should have 'accurate' information. The problem is that their dates of birth (years), is one thing up to the 2000 calendar and then it changed from 2002 onwards. The only constant was that Virgil was born on 15 August 2041.

They also originally had John as the oldest and Scott as second oldest. My story worked better with their 'seniority' reversed.

So I've thrown the idea of accuracy out of the window and decided to utilise my 'Poetic Licence.' (And I can show it to any accuracy police that ask.)

I've read of two 'official' stories as to what happened to Lucille Tracy, Jeff's wife. One is that she died giving birth to Alan. A bit hard on Alan, I've always thought, no matter what you think of him.

(In the latter calendars the boys were also born so close together that maybe Lucille did give up the ghost when Alan came along.)

So this is my 'take' on the second version. I gave it to my mother and had her crying on Christmas Day. So my apologies in advance if you find you need a box of tissues.

Happy reading.

October 2046

"Virgil… Virgil! Where are you?"

"I'm here, Ma! Look I did a painting for you."

Lucille Tracy's initial reaction was to be angry that she'd been made to look for her son. Her next reaction was the pleasure of a parent who's been presented with a 'masterpiece' created with love by their child. Her final reaction was to laugh.

In creating his masterpiece, five-year-old Virgil had managed to get paint through his hair and on his face. He looked like a clown.

"Thank you, Darling." She took the still wet painting. It was of a big green blob with bits sticking out at all angles, against a background of blue.

"It's a airplane," he said proudly.

Now that it had been explained to her, Lucille could indeed see the shape of an aeroplane, although the wings were pointing forwards. "It's lovely." She gave him a hug, her brown ponytail falling forward and brushing against his short hair. The two were indistinguishable. "But we should be leaving now. If you want to go on your holiday."

His face lit up.

"But first," she continued, "we're going to have to get you cleaned up, young man. Let's have a look at your room."

She gazed with dismay at the chaos. It seemed that Virgil had not only managed to get paint on himself but also much of the room's furnishings. Lucille sighed and said a phrase that she used at least once everyday when dealing with her sons. "Where are you when I need you, Jeff Tracy."

"Right behind you." The voice made her turn. She didn't usually get a reply.

Jeff Tracy was standing there. He ran his hand over his dark, short hair. "What a mess!"

"Yes, and I was hoping that we could leave now. I take it you've got the boys in the car."

Jeff nodded. "Yeah, Ma's got Alan and Gordon settled and Pa's just putting the last things in your car."

"Well we can't go until Virgil's cleaned up and I wanted to get well underway before Alan woke again."

"I know. Tell you what. Virgil can come with us. We'll transfer some of the gear over from my car to yours. Then you can go on ahead, and we'll follow as soon as we've got this young man…" he picked Virgil up and tossed him in the air as his son giggled, "…cleaned up." He placed Virgil back on the ground. "Start packing up your paints, son."

Lucille passed her fingers through her brown fringe before automatically putting it back into place. It was one of those little idiosyncratic habits of hers that Jeff found so appealing. He gathered her into his arms and hugged her affectionately. "I'm really looking forward to this holiday, two weeks in our cabin. No deadlines, no press, no pressure, just family time."

She squeezed him back. "We'll have to wait until you get there though, and at this rate we won't see you for hours."

"Oh, well. Once I'm there I'll make it up to you. Maybe one day my parents can take the boys fishing and we can spend some time together…" He felt something wrap around his legs and looked down to see Virgil, little arms stretched around both parents' legs, looking up, a big grin on his face, "…alone."

"Aw no!" Scott moaned. "We're not taking him with us are we, Dad! I thought he was going in the other car. He's a pest."

"He was going to, son, but now he's coming with us so your mother and grandfather can go on ahead. Here take these blankets and put them into the other car. Thanks."

Scott took the blankets sullenly and said something under his breath.

His father heard what his eldest son had said. "Scott Tracy! Where did you learn that word! I don't ever want to hear you say it!" There was anger in his voice.

"What's wrong with it? It's only a word. Everyone uses it!" Scott stuck his jaw out aggressively, daring his father to make something of it.

"It's not a nice word, and not everyone uses it. Now if you want to go on your holiday, you apologise for saying it." Scott glared sullenly at the ground. "Scott!"

"What if I don't want to go?" the 10 year old snapped.

"Keep that attitude up and you'll get your wish. You can stay with your Aunty Gertrude."

That was a fate worse than being stuck on holiday with four annoying younger brothers. "Sorry," Scott muttered almost inaudibly.

"Now go and put those blankets in the other car!" Jeff ordered.

Still grumbling about the unfairness of it all Scott complied.

Jeff's father brought Virgil's car seat over, along with John's telescope. "You realise you could be asking for trouble, having those two in the same car for four hours," he said quietly. "Scott's just itching to make trouble, and Virgil's likely to pester him for most of that time."

"I know," Jeff replied equally quietly, "but Lucille wants to get going and Virgil's been painting again. Ma's just cleaning him up. I'll go and make an attempt at his room."

"Ah!" A look of understanding passed over the older man's face, as he lifted the battered old hat off his head and ran his arm over his hair.

Scott looked at his Father and Grandfather. They were busy packing the cars. Keeping the cars between himself and the adults he headed over to the gate. "Hi Lou!" he morosely greeted the teenaged boy slouched against the gatepost.

"You still have to go on holiday?"

"Yeah. Two weeks with four kid brothers. Virgil'll be bothering me all the time. 'Play with me Scott.' I get so sick of his whining voice. It's not fair. They can't see I'm too old to be stuck with babies."

"We're gonna miss your talents."

"You still gonna do it?"

"Yep."

"Wish I was stayin'."

"Yeah, well. This one's just a test drive. When you're back we'll go for the real thing. Whaddya fancy? Merc? Porsche?…"

"Nah!" said Scott with feeling. "Sean Matheson's T-bird!"

"The Thunderbird! That's a classic! Right, Tracy, you're on. Soon as you're back from 'holiday' we swipe the T-bird."

John was standing by quietly fiddling with a present he'd received at his recent birthday. It was a four piece two-way radio set. "Grandpa!" he suddenly said. "I've made it better, see!" He pushed a button on the handset and the radio burst into life with a crackle of static. "You can take this one with you and then your car can talk to our car."

His grandfather couldn't for the life of him see how the toy radio had been improved, but decided to go along with his eight year old Grandson. "Sure, John, you show me what to do." That task completed he pocketed one of the handsets. "Tell you what, John. When we get there, we'll set up your telescope. The air's much clearer in the mountains. You'll be able to see lots more stars."

"Maybe we'll find some new ones." John was excited by the prospect.

"Maybe. You never know."

Lucille came out of the house followed by her Mother-In-Law and a still painted Virgil. "Will you be okay with the three boys?" she was saying.

"Of course!" Grandma Tracy replied. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve to keep them occupied. Will you be all right with that husband of mine? Mind he doesn't try to take one of his 'short-cuts.'

Lucille laughed. "He's promised to get these two there safely." She looked in through the still open car door at her two youngest sons. Seven month old Alan was asleep in his cot and Gordon, just one and a half, was dozing in his car seat, his favourite toy, a yellow plastic fish, clasped firmly in his hand.

Her mother-in-law looked over her shoulder. "I still don't know where that boy gets his hair colour from. I don't know anyone on our side of the family with red hair."

"Virgil's was fairly red when he was born."

"Yes, but now Virgil's is the same colour as yours. Gordon's is copper!"

"I guess someone in my family must have been red-headed," Lucille mused. "Unfortunately I don't know."

Virgil ran over to his oldest brother. "Can I sit next to you, Scott? Please, please," he said eagerly jumping up and down in excitement.

"No!" Scott rolled his eyes "Ma! Does he have to come with us?"

"Yes he does, Scott."

"But he's just a baby. He should go with you."

"He's not a baby, and he is going with you. Honestly, Scott, I don't know what's got into you lately."

"Maybe I'm too old to be seen with babies! I could stay home by myself. I don't want to go with this runt!"

A hurt look appeared on Virgil's face. His lower lip quivered. He knew his brother was talking about him even if he didn't know what a runt was.

"Scott!" Jeff's bellow told Scott that he'd overstepped the mark. "Go to your room until we're ready to leave." The boy, grumbling all the way, complied.

"Shush!" Lucille said to Jeff as Alan stirred. "No, it's okay, he's still asleep."

He came and looked in the car to check for himself. "If you want to get going, you'd better get going now." He gave his wife an affectionate smile. "You can fill me in with what's going on with Scott when we get there."

"I think it's his friends at school." Lucille nodded over towards the teenager loitering by the front gate. "I'm not sure, but I don't think they are a good influence."

"So maybe two weeks up at my folks cabin will be just what he needs. And if we want to get there you'd better make a start." He gave her a peck on the cheek.

Throughout their married lives Jeff and Lucille had a ritual. As an astronaut Jeff had seen too many people leave home 'for a day at the office,' never to return, leaving bereft loved ones. He and Lucille had vowed that if nothing else, the last thing they'd say to each other was "I love you." What had started out as a habit for whenever he'd gone to work had spread into their daily lives and had been inherited by their sons.

"Goodbye, Virgil." Lucille gave him a big hug. "I'll see you up at the cabin. Be a good boy for your father and Grandma. I love you."

She repeated the sentiment to John. "I love you, son. When we're at the cabin we'll really be able to see what your radio can do."

"Love you, Ma."

Then she went back into the house and made her way to Scott's room. He was sitting on the bed sulking. "Scott," his mother said gently, "I'm off. I know that you'd rather not travel with Virgil and John, but it can't be helped. Please try to be patient with them. Show them how they should behave on a long journey."

"John's all right. But Virgil's a pain."

"It's only because he admires you. He's a fan of his big brother and wants to be like you."

"Well I wish he wouldn't."

"I know." Lucille held out her arms. "Do I get a hug?"

Scott hesitated and then threw his arms around his mother. "I love you, Ma," he mumbled into the folds of her dress.

"And I love you too, Scott Tracy, though sometimes I despair of you. See up at the cabin." She kissed him on top of his head and left the room.

Under Way

Jeff gripped the steering wheel of the car tightly, his knuckles white. They'd been travelling for about an hour and were into the hills. They were following a route known as the North-west Pass.

His mother noticed his knuckles and the tense muscles around his jaw line. This trip is no picnic, she reflected. "Why don't we play 'I Spy'?" she suggested to the back seat.

Three young heads looked up from where they were having an argument over some toy.

"Yeah. Let's play 'I Spy,'" John said eagerly.

"Yeah, 'I Spy,' 'I Spy,'" Virgil chipped in eagerly.

"Aw. That's dumb," Scott said.

"Dumb!" Virgil repeated what his brother had said, frowned, and asked, "What's 'I Spy'?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "Don't you know anything? You think of something you can see, say 'I spy with my little eye something beginning with' and then say the first letter of what you can see. Then everyone else has to guess what you've seen."

Virgil thought about what his brother had said. "I don't get it?"

"Look, Virgil, John was trying to be helpful. "You see something, like a shoe. Then you say 'I spy with my little eye something beginning with S.' Then we keep on saying words beginning with S until one of us says shoe. Then whoever guesses right has a turn."

"Oh!" Virgil appeared to understand. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with S."

Scott groaned. "Shoe!"

"Yes!" Virgil bounced happily in his car seat. "Your turn, Scott."

"You're not meant to think of shoe. Think of something else."

"I'll go," John offered. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with R."

"Shoe!" offered Virgil.

"Shoe starts with S, not R. Boy, you're stupid."

"Scott!" His father admonished without taking his eyes off the road.

"Ring?" Grandma Tracy offered.

"Nope!"

"Road?" Jeff tried.

"No."

"Ribbon?" Jeff hazarded.

"No."

"Rope?"

"Nope, Grandma!"

"Piano?" Virgil offered.

"Piano starts with P not R. Anyway, where can you see a piano here?" Scott hit Virgil.

Jeff happened to be looking in the mirror at that point. "Scott. You know not to hit your brother. Apologise to him."

"He's not playing it properly."

"And neither are you. You haven't made any suggestions."

"That's 'cause this is dumb. It's radio."

"How'd you know?" John asked.

"'Cause you haven't put the stupid thing down since we'd left."

"Scott guessed it. It's his turn," Virgil sang happily.

Scott ignored him. "Aren't we there yet?"

"What, already?" Jeff muttered under his breath. Out loud he said, "No we've got another couple of hours to go yet."

"Great." Scott was not impressed.

"I could radio Grandpa's car and see where they are," John offered.

"You could try," Jeff tried to be supportive, "but in these hills you may not be able to reach them."

The other car was miles ahead. Grandpa Tracy was surprised to hear a squawk emitting from his shirt pocket. Taking one hand off the wheel he fished in the pocket and pulled out John's handset. Warily he pushed the button that activated it. "Hello?"

"Hi, Grandpa," John's voice came out of the receiver.

His Grandfather glanced at Lucille in surprise. "Well what do you know? The thing actually works."

"Here let me take it, Pa. You need to concentrate on the road." She took the radio and spoke into it. "Hello, Johnny. Grandpa's driving so you'll have to talk to me."

"Hi, Ma… No, Scott. It's mine. You can't have it!"

Lucille rolled her eyes. "Sounds like it's started."

"Probably started from the moment they left. Scott's getting an attitude problem."

Lucille sighed. "I know. His grades are dropping and he's getting into trouble at School. I don't know the best way to deal with it."

Her Father-in-Law raised an eyebrow. "What does Jeff say about it all?"

"I haven't discussed it with him. He doesn't know most of it."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"Jeff's due to go to the moon again in two months. I want his full attention on the job; I don't want him worrying about anything else. As soon as he's safely back on Earth, then I'll discuss it with him."

"Hi, Ma," the object of their discussion broke into the conversation.

"Hello, Scott."

"Hi, Ma," Virgil's voice sounded distant.

"You don't hold it that way, she won't hear you, turn it round!" They could hear Scott ordering his brother.

"Oh. HI, MA!"

Lucille held the handset away from her ear. "Hello, Darling. You don't have to shout so loud."

"We've got a handset each, so we can all talk to you!" John said, excitement clear in his voice.

"How far behind us are you?" Lucille asked.

There was a murmur in the background. "We left about ¾ hour after you. Where are you?"

"We're about half way through the Northwest Pass. It's beautiful. There's snow on all the hills. It's fallen early this year."

"Grandma wants to know how Gordon and Alan are?" Scott's voice chipped in.

"Both sound asleep. It's lovely and quiet."

Jeff and his mother glanced at each other enviously.

"I learnt a new game," Virgil told his mother. "It's called "Eye's Pie."

"That's 'I Spy,' and he plays it all wrong," Scott was grumbling again.

"Shoe!" Virgil said happily and moved a switch on his handset. The radio turned off with a squeak.

"Now you can't talk with Ma. Serves you right," Scott told him.

"Ma? Where are you, Ma?" Virgil asked into the now dead radio.

"Turn it on for him please, Scott," Lucille asked.

Grudgingly Scott acceded to her request.

"John, your grandfather tells me that you made the radios better. How?" Lucille sought to bring her second oldest back into the conversation.

"Oh, I just…"

There was a scream from the three receivers in the back seat.

"What the heck was that?" Jeff pulled the car over to the side of the road.

"Jeff! That sounded like Lucille," his mother looked concerned.

Jeff leant over the back of his seat. "Scott, let me have your set." He spoke into the toy radio. "Lucille! Can you hear me? What happened?"

There was silence.

"Try the mobile, Jeff," his mother urged.

Jeff got his more conventional phone from the glove box and dialled. "The reception's no good," he said grimly.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Grandma Tracy sought to be reassuring.

The toys sparked back into life. "J-Jeff?" In the background they could hear a deep moaning and a child crying.

"I'm here, Lucille. What's happened?"

"A-An avalanche. It seemed as if the entire mountainside come down on top of us. I-I can't see anything."

"What do you mean can't see…?"

"We're buried, buried in snow," she was starting to sound hysterical.

"Lucille, calm down. Take a deep breath. Is it dark?"

"Y-yes."

"There's a torch in the glove box. Can you get it out?" While she was looking he gave his mobile to his mother. "Call the emergency services."

Lucille came back on the radio. "Oh, Jeff. The side of the car's caved in. Y-Your father's hurt."

Jeff took a deep breath and gave his mother's hand a reassuring squeeze. "How bad?"

"I can't really tell. Part of the car's on top of him."

"How's the boys?" Jeff noticed that his mother was frantically trying without success to reach the emergency services. His three sons were sitting motionless in the back seat aware that something bad had happened.

"T-They seem to be okay."

"Have you turned the cars motor off?"

"Y-yes."

"Fine, Honey. We're coming to get you. We'll be there soon. We're getting help now. Don't worry." Hoping that he sounded calm and reassuring, he handed the radio to his mother and gunned the cars motor. "Hang on, everyone. This is going to be a fast trip. Keep trying, Ma, hopefully the reception will be better around the corner." He floored the accelerator and the car leaped away from the side of the road, for a moment they were airborne.

"Is Ma alright?" A plaintive voice was heard from the backseat.

"S-she's in a spot of bother, but she'll be fine, Virgil," his Grandma tried to reassure him as the car careered around a corner. "They all will." She resumed desperately trying to get the emergency services.

She'd only just succeeded when they came upon the avalanche. A seemingly impenetrateable wall of snow greeted them.

Jeff stamped on the brakes and leapt out of the car, saying the very word he'd admonished Scott for using earlier.

His sons looked at each other. If their father was saying things like that, things were bad - very bad.

First Rescue

"Lucille? Can you hear me?" Jeff was using the toy radio again.

"Jeff, oh, Jeff. Where've you been?"

"We're here, Honey. We're at the avalanche."

"You've brought help?"

"They're on their way… How's Pa?"

"Hey there, son."

"Pa!" Jeff at once felt relieved and frightened at the sound of his father's voice. He was sounding weak and tired. "Are you okay?"

"Not really, Son," he was trying to sound light hearted. "My leg's stuck. I can't move it."

"Anything else?"

"One or two scratches."

"Just relax, Pa. Help's coming."

John and Scott were standing beside the car. Virgil was still inside, trapped by his seat belt. "Scott! Help me!"

Scott leaned into the car and roughly released the belt. Virgil quickly climbed out. "Where's Ma?"

"Under there," John breathed.

"But she can't be. It's snow."

"It's an avalanche," Scott told him. "The snow was on the hills and it's slipped off and covered the car."

"Scott. We've got to do something!" John faced his older brother.

"Yeah, but what?"

"Dig?"

"Use your brains, John. Through all that? They could be anywhere."

Stung, John turned away. As he did so they heard Lucille's voice. "Oh, no. Now Alan's cryi…"

As the radio in John's hand turned away from the avalanche scene the signal became more indistinct.

"John!" Scott's command forced his younger brother to spin round to face him. "Point the radio at the snow." Bewildered John complied. "Now move it slowly until you get a strong signal."

"… got him now. He's quietened down." Their mother's voice was heard clearly again.

"Hold it there!" Scott commanded. He got a stick and laid it down in front of his brother so it was pointing in the same direction as the radio.

"That's where Ma is?" John was starting to sound hopeful. "That's where we dig?"

"No, we don't know how far away they are. Gimmie your radio," Scott grabbed it from Virgil's unresisting hands and started running along towards the avalanche. Fortunately for his plan his Father and Grandmother didn't see him.

"How cold are you, Honey?" Jeff was asking.

"It's not cold. In fact it's starting to get quite warm."

Scott was scrambling along the edge of the avalanche. He was aware that he was putting himself in some danger, but was determined to do something practical. "I'm coming, Ma," he said to himself.

He eventually decided that he had gone as far as he'd dare and tried picking up the signal from the trapped car again. He was partially surprised to find that his trick worked.

Once again he marked the direction of the signal.

Now what? He ran back towards where he'd left his brothers, stopping once along the way to take another reading. He now had a good idea of the direction in which he wanted to dig.

"C'mon, Johnny. Let's start digging?"

"What with?" John asked practically.

Scott looked at the hubcaps on the car. They were a slightly curved solid disk, and to his mind they would be ideal. He pulled out his pocketknife and jimmied open the lock that held the hubcap in place. Then he grabbed John by the sleeve and dragged him towards the spot he'd marked. "Start digging there, in that direction. I'll be back in a moment."

He ran back to the rear wheel of the car and deftly removed the second hubcap for himself. As he stood up he was confronted by Virgil. His younger brother was standing there, hands outstretched ready to take the disk of silver metal, ready to help. Scott hesitated and then thrust the hubcap into Virgil's hands. "John will show you where to dig," he said brusquely. He then went to get a tool for himself.

As he reached the car wheel he glanced over at where his brothers were digging. John was doing okay, but Virgil was struggling. The hubcap was too big for his still small hands. Scott opened the car boot and grabbed a haversack. Fishing around inside he found a stainless steel mug. Running back to Virgil he took the hubcap from him, replacing it with the mug. "Use that!" Virgil did so, to greater effect. Scott now applied himself to the task of digging.

"Jeff. Your father wants a word with your mother."

Jeff handed the radio over to the frightened woman beside him. "I-I'm here!"

"Hey, Sweet-Pea." At the words, Mrs. Tracy started. It was a pet name he had for her and he never used it in public, not even in front of his son. Sweet-Pea was not the kind of term that strong Kansas farmers would readily admit to using. "Things are looking a bit grim here!"

"D-Don't talk like that. You'll be fine, you'll all be fine." She was gabbling, trying to convince herself as much him.

"Sweet-Pea. I just wanted to say thank you for 42 great years together." They could hear the effort he was putting into making himself talk. "Marrying you was the best decision I ever made."

"And mine." She was trying to pull herself together.

"You keep that hot-headed son of our's feet firmly planted on the ground, okay. He's got grand ideas; don't let him get carried away by them. I'm proud of all he's achieved, but tell him his family comes first."

"He's listening."

"You've been a great son, Jeff, now be a great father. Bring those boys of yours up well. Teach them right from wrong. Help them be the best they can be." He paused for breath. "I love you, Jeff."

Tears were stinging Jeff Tracy's eyes. "I love you too, Pa."

They could hear the pain in his voice as he continued. "Are my Grandsons there?"

Scott whipped the radio out of his pocket and motioned for the others to stop digging. "We're here, Grandpa."

"Ah, Scott. Make me a promise. Go easy on your father, he's going to need your support."

"Huh?" Scott didn't quite understand.

"Promise me!" The voice, though weak, still commanded obedience.

"I promise, Grandpa."

"Good boy. John?"

"Yes, Grandpa?"

"Thank you for lending me the radio. You've made these last minutes so much easier."

"That's okay, Grandpa." It would be years before John would be able to comprehend the meaning behind these words.

"Virgil?"

Scott gave Virgil the radio. "Grandpa?"

"Give your Grandma a hug from me, okay?"

"Okay. But why…" Scott grabbed the radio before he was able to continue.

"Remember I love all you boys." He was fighting for breath. "Put your grandmother back on again."

"I-I'm here."

"Sweet Pea. I love you. Always remember that. I love you…"

"I love you too."

The radio was silent for a moment and then Lucille came back on the radio. She was crying. "Jeff! Oh, Jeff. He's gone!"

"No!" Grandma Tracy collapsed to the ground sobbing into her hands. Jeff stood there stunned, unable to move, unable to comprehend.

"Where's he gone to, Scott?" Virgil asked. "If he can leave why doesn't he come here?"

Scott was trying to fight back tears. "He's dead, Virgil."

"Dead?" Clearly Virgil didn't understand. Why was everyone so upset?

John started digging frantically again. Tears were streaming down his face and he angrily wiped them away.

Scott thought for a moment. "Do you remember that blue jay that we used to put food out for?"

"Yeah."

"And one day you found it in the garden, and it wasn't moving and you tried to make it fly?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember what Ma said?"

"She said it had flown off to heaven."

"That's what's happened to Grandpa." They heard a sob from John.

Virgil frowned at the concept. "But Grandpa can't fly?" he said with inescapable logic.

"Don't worry about it now. We've just got to keep digging and reach Ma and Gordon and Alan." Scott resumed his work. He was a big boy, nearly a man. He wasn't about to give in to tears. But the tears came all the same.

Virgil looked at his older brothers, not really understanding and then started to dig again.

Farewells

"Jeff! Jeff! Are you there?"

With difficulty Jeff raised the radio to his lips. "I'm here, Honey. How are you?"

"It's so hot and stuffy, and both Gordon and Alan won't stop crying."

Jeff could hear his two youngest sons. "Hang in there, Honey. The emergency services can't be too far away.

"Jeff. I'm frightened."

"Don't be. I'm here. Look save the air. Let me do all the talking." And so he talked. He talked about how much he loved her. He talked about how he'd always admired and respected her. He talked about how proud he was of the job she was doing bringing up his sons, despite the fact that he wasn't always around to support her. "I guess I haven't been a very good husband."

"Don't be silly, Jeff. You've been a great husband and a great father." She was sounding tired.

The sounds in the background were getting quieter. "Lucille?"

"Yes, Honey."

"How's the boys?"

It was as though she'd only just woken from a deep sleep. "The boys?" Her brain felt fuzzed and she fought to make it work clearly. "They're fine. Gordon's asleep." She realised what she'd said and appeared to regain some control of her thoughts. "Jeff! He's not moving."

Jeff felt that sense of panic rise again. "Keep calm, Honey. Is he still breathing?"

There was silence for a moment before he heard her voice again. "Yes! Yes he his."

"Good."

"Jeff!" The exhaustion was plain in her voice now. "I want to talk to Scott."

Once again Scott grabbed the radio from his belt. "I'm here, Ma."

"Now, Scott. I'm relying on you to look after your brothers. You're the oldest. They look up to you. Help them and help your father. Always remember that I love you."

"Yes, Ma. I love you too."

Jeff looked skywards as realisation dawned. She's saying goodbye.

"Johnny?"

"Hi, Ma."

"I love you, Honey. Keep that telescope pointing at the heavens and maybe one day you'll see me."

She could hear the tears in his voice as he replied, "Love you," before his voice broke and he turned back to his digging.

"Virgil! I want you to do something special for me, okay."

"Yes, Ma."

"As soon as you get home, I want you to paint a bright, happy picture for me and Grandpa. And for Alan and Gordon okay. And think of me when ever you look at them and remember that I love you, I love you all."

"Okay, Ma. What do you want me to paint?"

"Anything, Virgil, paint what's in your heart."

Scott nudged Virgil. "Tell her you love her."

Obediently Virgil complied. "I love you, Ma."

"Jeff. How's your mother?"

"My moth…" Jeff had practically forgotten about the distraught woman beside him. "She's … upset."

"Tell her he was brave, that he tried to drive away from the avalanche, that he put himself in the path of the rocks, to save us. And, Jeff…"

"Yes, Honey."

"Look after our boys. Keep them safe. Teach them to care for others and each other." Her voice was growing fainter. He could no longer hear Alan crying. Jeff's tears were falling unheeded as he heard her final words. "I love you, Jeff Tracy."

His yell echoed of the mountain walls and reverberated off the surrounding peaks. "Lucille!"

The only reply was the drone of a vehicle rounding the corner.

Help?

Scott was at the car almost before the vehicle had stopped. He wrenched open the drivers door and pulled at the sleeve of the man inside. "You've got to start digging!" he yelled, "I'll show you where."

"Whoa! Hold on! Let me get my safety belt undone," the young man protested as he reached for the restraint. He no sooner had it undone and Scott was pulling at him again, willing him to get out of the car.

More senior members of the team went to check on Jeff and his mother. Both were incoherent. "Mr. Tracy! Keep calm! We'll get to them as fast as we can."

"She said goodbye!" was all they could understand.

Scott, meanwhile, had dragged the driver over to where the boys had been digging. John and Virgil were still hard at it. Both were wet with snow. Their hands were raw; John's were bleeding in places where blisters had ruptured.

"There!" Scott instructed. "We worked it out! If you keep digging that way you'll reach them."

"How'd you work that out?"

"With the radios! You've got to start digging!"

"Okay, kid. Hang on."

The rescue team wasted no time in setting up their equipment. Much to their surprise there own scanners confirmed what Scott had said.

"Come on, kids, keep out of the way," one of the officials directed the three boys away from the rescue zone. They sat, quietly watching proceedings, from the back seat of their car.

Virgil had started shivering. Much of the snow that the older two boys had shovelled had landed on him and he was soaked to the skin. Scott could feel his brothers' trembling and decided that they all needed dry clothes. Once again he opened the car's boot, this time pulling out their bags. "John," he called. "Come and get some dry clothes on." He handed John his backpack. Scott then set about ensuring that Virgil was clothed in dry clothes before changing his own.

They had just finished when there was a shout from the avalanche. "We're through!" The boys ran to the avalanche site.

"Whoa, kids. You can't go in there. Get back to the car." They were herded back.

"We've got a live one!" Like a game of loud Chinese Whispers the word was shouted from rescuer to rescuer.

A man came running out of the hole that they'd just cleared. He was holding a bundle in a blanket. "We need oxygen here! Quick!"

John managed to see a little tuft of copper hair sticking out of the blanket. "It's Gordon," he said simply.

Soon afterwards another man came running out. This time they got a clear glimpse of Alan's face; it's blue colouration blending into his blond hair. He was bundled into the back of a waiting ambulance.

"Where's Ma?" Virgil asked.

"They'll get her out soon," Scott reassured him. To himself he added, please get her out soon!

"We need a stretcher!" the shout went up, and one vanished into the hole. It emerged a short time later carrying Lucille. A man, who had up till now stood back from proceedings, examined her efficiently. Once finished, he solemnly took the sheet that covered her body and extended it to hide her face.

"No!" Scott whispered. He'd seen enough late night movies to know what that meant.

"Ma!" John yelled and ran towards her still form.

"No, John!" Scott managed to catch his younger brother and hold him back.

"Hey! What are those kids doing over there?" someone yelled. "They shouldn't be seeing this!"

"Come on, boys." It was the man that Scott had dragged from the car. "Come around here." He led them unresisting away from the disaster site.

"Ma's dead, isn't she?" Scott said through a face full of tears.

The man nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Boys. We just got here too late." He was silent for a moment. "What's your names?" he asked gently.

Scott told him.

"My name's Dave. How old are you, Scott?"

"Ten," Scott said with a sniff.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to keep an eye on your two brothers and look after them for a bit. Your Dad and Grandmother are going to have to travel with your other two brothers. What are their names?"

"Gordon and Alan. He's the baby."

"Thanks, Scott. They're still alive but they're very sick." Looking at the three young faces, Dave felt a pang of misgiving. "Can you look after your brothers?"

Scott nodded. "Ma said I had to. It was the last thing she told me."

"You're a brave boy. Your mother would be proud of you. Will you three stay here a moment? I've got to see someone."

All three nodded solemnly.

Scott leant back against the car and took a deep breath. He suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then he felt a small hand slip into his. He looked down at Virgil. "I'll help you, Scott." There was determination in his young voice as he gazed at his oldest brother through a curtain of tears.

"Yeah, Scott. Me too." John was trying to look brave.

"Thanks." The word caught in Scott's throat.

When Dave came back all three were in a huddle, crying as if their hearts would break.

"Mr. Tracy." Jeff barely felt the touch on his arm. "Mr. Tracy, we've got to get Gordon and Alan to hospital. Will you and your mother come with us?"

Jeff nodded dumbly. He felt as if his whole world was collapsing around him, wiped away in an avalanche of snow. He allowed himself to be led to the waiting ambulance. He didn't hear an ambulance chaser say to him, "Hey! Aren't you Jeff Tracy, the astronaut?" and see the man get escorted away by a policeman.

Once in the vehicle, the ambulance officer continued on. "We'll get someone to bring your other sons along in your car. They'll meet you at the hospital. Okay?"

Jeff couldn't take it in. He sat in the back of the ambulance, almost oblivious to the fact that his two youngest sons were fighting for their lives and his mother had been sedated and was lying on the stretcher beside him. "Lucille," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

For the three boys, sitting in the back seat of their father's car, the trip to the hospital seemed to take an age. Eventually the car pulled up and Dave said to them. "Time to get out."

John undid his safety belt, opened the door, and jumped down only to be blinded by a flash. He rubbed his eyes, already red and puffy from crying.

"What's ya name kid?" a large man with a notebook asked him gruffly.

"Leave him alone!" Dave placed himself between the reporter and the child.

"That's the astronauts kids, isn't it?" the reporter asked. "This is news."

"And this is a hospital, not the press gallery. Clear out!"

"Look, pal! I'm trying to do my job."

"And that involves preying on defenseless kids?"

The reporter grabbed his bag and moved back to the hospital boundary. He contented himself with getting long shots of Scott undoing Virgil's safety belt and helping him out of the car.

That night the three oldest boys stayed at Dave's. He took them out for a meal at a popular fast food chain and took them to the movies, trying to take their minds of the events of the day. Scott and John appeared to be in a daze. When asked the next day they had no idea what they'd eaten or what the movie had been about.

Virgil was confused by all that was happening. He'd seen his mother lying on that stretcher as if she'd been sleeping and now he was being told that he'd never see her again, that that pile of snow had taken her away from him.

Dave tried his best to explain to the young boy what had happened. "The noise of their car caused the snow to fall down the mountain. It covered the car and they couldn't get any air. Your mother and grandfather just went to sleep. A deep sleep that they will never wake up from again."

"Scott said Grandpa had flown up to heaven."

"That's a nice way of looking at it. When they went to sleep, they became angels and flew up to heaven."

"But I saw her lying there…"

"That was the shell of her body. Her spirit is flying around, looking after you, your brothers, your father, and grandmother. You just can't see her. Don't worry, she'll be happy and she won't want you to be sad for long."

Virgil frowned. A terrible idea was forming in his young mind. "If they hadn't been driving past then, the snow it wouldn't have covered the car would it?"

"No. They were unlucky that they were there at the time that the snow fell…" Dave stopped talking as Virgil burst into tears. He hugged the young boy, wishing there were some way he could comfort him.

At that moment Scott came into the room. "Virgil!" he said in concern.

Virgil broke away from Dave and ran over to Scott. "Sorry, Scott!" he cried. "Sorry!"

Scott held him close. "For what, Virgil?" He could feel his own tears start to form again.

But five-year-old Virgil couldn't find the words to say what was in his mind, and so he said nothing, just cried…

The following months were a living hell for Jeff Tracy. He resigned his place in the space agency and watched on TV as the man who'd replaced him successfully completed the flight to the moon.

Every media article on the mission seemed to include a sidebar on the astronaut who'd missed the flight due to tragedy - usually accompanied by official photos of Jeff and Lucille's wedding or else unofficial ones of his sons after the accident. In later years, the boys believed that the distrust of the media, born out of this never ending pain, was as much of the reason for Jeff's desire for lack of publicity as the desire to keep their machines away from evil hands.

Jeff not only had to learn how to raise five sons as he had to cope with the loss of his wife and his father, but find a way to earn a living, while still trying to be there for his boys.

Their home had come with the job. Now unemployed, Jeff had to find new accommodation for the family. Initially they went to stay with the dreaded Aunt Gertrude, while Jeff travelled about, trying to find someone who would employ a grieving ex-astronaut.

Grandma Tracy returned to the family farm just once after the funerals. Jeff tried unsuccessfully to comfort her as she walked through the empty rooms. Finding it more than she could bear, she left forever. The farm was sold and Mrs. Tracy bought herself a small home near the family. The money that was left over after the house purchase, she gave to her son. "Your father would want you to use the money to raise his grandsons."

A friend had given him an offer to go into partnership in an engineering firm and he had been going to turn it down due to lack of funds, but now he grasped at the opportunity as if it were a lifeline. They called the company 'Tracy Industries' as the friend had thought that Jeff's name would give them an advantage over the competition.

To his surprise Jeff found that he was good at his new job. Growing up on a farm had given him engineering experience that he was able to utilise in the company. He was even more surprised when he found he was enjoying the work and was finally starting to climb out of the depression that had dogged him.

The Tracy boys also initially found it difficult coping without their mother. The dreaded Aunt Gertrude fussed about them and smothered them with her over-protectiveness. They felt stifled in her neat, small home that had never had to deal with energetic boys. They were greatly relieved when Jeff found a house that was big enough for them all and they moved into their new home.

Alan and Gordon recovered enough to come home and Mrs. Tracy took it upon herself to be a surrogate mother to the five boys.

The older boys started at new schools and were pointed out as being 'the sons of the astronaut who quit.' They had to put up with some teasing but grew closer as they supported each other. Eventually they made new friends, but their closest friends remained each other.

Virgil waited to do the paintings as his mother had asked him to. He was initially upset that he was unable to do the painting at fussy Aunt Gertrude's but understood when Scott had explained that his mother had said, "When you get home…" and this was certainly not home!

When they arrived at their new house, the first thing that was set up in his new bedroom was his paint set. After thinking for a while he decided on a subject and painted two paintings. One for his mother and one for his grandfather. Each daub of paint was carefully placed. Never again did Virgil splatter paint around the room; each stroke was carefully thought out and positioned just right.

John had always been a quiet child. It was strange then when one of his two great passions turned out to be communications. The radio set that had played such and important role in their lives was carefully packed away and he worked hard to earn enough money to buy another, better, set. This achieved, he set about to improve it even further. He also developed an interest in languages, reasoning that you couldn't communicate with someone if you couldn't understand them.

His other great passion continued to be astronomy. He would spend hours looking into the night sky. Often his father had to order him to bed so he'd be fresh for school the next day. He did eventually find a new star. One lonely day while looking through his telescope on board Thunderbird Five. He named it Lucille.

Scott took his mother's final words to heart. He cared for his brothers and looked out for them. He especially took Virgil under his wing. If Jeff was ever looking for either of them he invariably found them in each other's company. When Virgil started learning to play the piano, Scott would be beside him encouraging him, playing the tunes so that Virgil knew what they sounded like. That was until Virgil started showing more aptitude than his oldest brother and the roles became reversed. But Scott never bore a grudge, instead finding pleasure in his brother's success.

Slowly, surely, the family got their lives together again…

October 2068

Jeff Tracy was working at his desk, as was usual for 10:15 a.m. on a week day. He looked up when he heard a beeping sound. He looked at his second son's portrait.

"Go ahead, John."

John Tracy's photo disappeared to be replaced by a video image of the young man clad in his International Rescue uniform. Jeff noted that John had a distracted air about him.

"Ah, Father. We've got a call out."

Jeff hit the button that would send his operatives racing into the lounge. "Give me the details, son."

"There's a family trapped in their car under an avalanche." John paused to take a breath. "They're in the North-west Pass." He saw his father pale slightly and continued. "They can't make contact with the normal authorities. Either we alert them ourselves or we undertake the rescue."

"Have you pinpointed their exact position?"

"No, I wasn't able to, the signal was too weak."

Scott and Virgil arrived almost simultaneously. "What is it, Father, John?"

As the rest of the team arrived, Jeff surveyed these two speculatively. He was seriously considering sending Gordon and Alan in their places, but decided against it. "We can't waste time, Boys. Launch immediately. Virgil, you won't need auxiliary crew." Gordon and Alan looked disappointed. "You'll need 'The Scoop' and the avalanche rescue equipment."

"F-A-B." Both men were gone.

Once underway, Jeff filled them in with the details of the rescue. The silence that met his announcement confirmed what he was thinking. This was close to home, metaphorically speaking.

Alan and Gordon moped about the lounge, waiting to hear more details of the rescue and seeking to hide their disappointment. They gradually became aware that their father was behaving in a manner different to the one he usually adopted when International Rescue was at work. He wasn't alert, waiting for the next report from the danger zone. He was quiet and introspective, contemplating a family photo that resided on his desk. Finally he stood up.

"Alan. Launch Thunderbird Three!"

"Huh? Thunderbird Three? But why?"

"Take Gordon with you. Go bring John back. Put Thunderbird Five onto automatic relay. I want to have a family meeting when Virgil and Scott arrive home."

"Why, Dad?" Gordon enquired.

"Just go, son. You all can stay on Thunderbird Five until after we receive confirmation that they're leaving the rescue zone. By the time you three arrive back, they'll have had a chance to have get home and freshened up."

His two youngest sons sat together on the couch, and his last sight of them was of two bemused faces sinking into the floor.

The launch procedure proceeded smoothly, despite the fact that Gordon wasn't as familiar with the routine as the others. He preferred the deep sea to deep space.

As they left Earth's atmosphere their minds were able to turn to other things. "Why are we doing this, Gordon?" Alan asked.

"I have no idea. It must have something to do with the rescue."

"Yeah, but what?"

"Dunno. Scott and Virgil went very quiet when they found out where they were going."

"Where was it again?" Alan scratched his head.

It came to Gordon in a flash. "The North-west Pass. It's where Ma and Grandpa were killed."

"It still doesn't explain why we're making this trip."

"Well, John was there. Maybe Dad thinks the memories will be too strong."

"We were all there, remember."

They were silent for a moment.

"Hey, Gordon. Do you remember anything?"

"Remember what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Alan shrugged his shoulders. "Anything about Ma. About the accident."

Gordon shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think so. I was only one at the time. I don't really know anything, and no one's been particularly keen to talk about it. I only know that we were buried by an avalanche and by the time the emergency services were there, they were dead."

"I guess we were lucky." Alan didn't sound lucky.

"Yeah. I don't even know how we survived."

"We'll have to ask someone when we get back. Not Virgil - he was too young."

"Yeah," Gordon sounded reluctant.

"Or we could ask John while we're waiting."

"No, he'll have to keep his mind on the job," Gordon cautioned. He started fidgeting. He preferred Thunderbird Four to Thunderbird Three.

Alan noticed his brother's discomfort. "Hey, Gordon, this should make you feel at home." He brought an image of the starry sky about them up on screen. "That's the constellation of Pisces."

"That's meant to be two fish? Looks like a very bad case of measles."

"No. It's a very bad case of join the dots."

John sat, alone, in Thunderbird Five. The burble of voices continued around him unabated, but he wasn't listening. He was remembering. Remembering his mother and grandfather. Remembering good times and bad. It wasn't often that he felt lonely when on his tour of duty, but now he was aware of a certain melancholy. He would have liked someone to share his memories with.

He recollected that fateful day. It was, he reflected, the first time that Scott had taken control. No, that wasn't strictly true, he'd often been bossy before then, but his younger brothers had ignored him. Threats of bodily harm had more often than not fallen on deaf ears. The day of the avalanche was the first time that he'd commanded and received unquestioning obedience. But even 'obedience' was the wrong word, John reflected wryly. 'Support' was a better word. Support, a desire to help, and respect. Scott had earned his respect on that day. Respect that had grown each time that International Rescue was called out and Scott, with his quick thinking and leadership qualities, had commanded them all.

Scott arrived at the North-west Pass. He cruised its length looking for the avalanche. When he found it he kept airborne for a short while looking for a place suitable for Thunderbird Two to land. He found a large area just to the south of the snowfall.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two."

"Thunderbird Two."

"I'm sending the co-ordinates now. You can land 300 metres south."

"Any chance of triggering another avalanche?"

"Negative. The hillside's bare. I'm pinpointing their location now."

Thunderbird One's powerful scanners easily picked up the metal body of the entombed car alongside the hard-packed snow, ice and rocks.

Back on Tracy Island, Jeff was wandering through a storeroom. Here was kept all the bits and pieces, odds and ends that families tend to collect through the years and don't really have the heart to throw out. He struggled past crates and boxes filled with memorabilia of his sons' growing years.

Tucked right in the farthest corners was a box. With difficulty he lifted it out. It had the word 'Tracy' and a number written on the side in black indelible ink. The lid was sealed down firmly with tape. He took the box upstairs to the lounge before returning to get three more similarly marked boxes. The last had a large official looking envelope taped to the lid. He looked at it speculatively before placing it to one side.

He then started to rearrange the furniture in the lounge. When he'd finished enough seating for seven people was arranged in a circle. In the centre of the circle he placed the boxes. At that moment his mother came in.

"What are you doing, Jeff? You've been wandering backwards and forwards and making lots of noise and… Oh!" She'd seen the boxes and instantly recognised their significance.

"I'm doing something I probably should have done years ago, Mother…"

"Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five. Initiating docking procedures," Alan alerted John to their intentions.

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three. F-A-B. What the heck are you guys doing here?"

"Search me, John. Dad sent Gordon and me up to get you."

"And Gordon? To get me?"

"Yeah. He said something about a family meeting."

As rescues go, this one was easy. The scoop cleared away much of the snow and rubble and then they were able to cut their way to the car using heat axes. It was a rescue that the local services would have been able to undertake with ease. The one advantage International Rescue had had was speed.

Scott was just helping the last occupant of the car out when an ambulance, two police cars and four unmarked vehicles pulled up.

"Guess we're here in time to be too late," one of the men got out of an unmarked car. He walked over to where the two International Rescue men were assisting the relieved and grateful family into the ambulance. He extended his hand in greeting. "Boy, are you guys fast movers. I guess we don't have to do anything."

"I don't know…" Virgil offered, glancing at the remains of the avalanche and the car "…looks like you've got a big clean up ahead of you."

"Not me pal. That's down to a road gang. They'll be here soon. I'm just with alpine rescue, and you've done my job for me." He grinned. "Not that I'm complaining, mind. As long as there's no loss of life, I don't care who does it."

"So, John, discovered anything new lately?" Gordon was trying to fill in the time until they were given the all clear to return to Earth. The sooner the better as far as he was concerned. John could co-pilot the return trip.

"I think I may have found a black hole, but I need to make some more observations."

"I've never quite been able to get my head around the idea of a black hole in space," Alan complained.

"That's surprising considering you've got a black hole inside your head instead of brains," Gordon teased.

"Well I don't think he'd fit," John added. It was a much worn pun, but still brought a grin to Gordon's face - and a frown to Alan's.

"Why do you guys always have to pick on me?"

"'Cause you're an easy target, being the youngest."

"Why don't you pick on Scott, being the oldest, for a change? Or the middle kid - Virgil? Why me?"

"It may have escaped your notice, Kiddo," John said. "They're not here, and you are. So you're it!"

Jeff had been looking at the envelope attached to top box for what seemed to be ages. Finally he steeled himself, took the knife he'd laid on the table, and opened it.

It was another two minutes before he removed the papers contained inside and started reading them.

Déjà vu

Rescue complete, thanks received, Scott and Virgil were wandering back to the collect 'The Scoop.'

"Boy, I've had a real feeling of déjà vu, throughout this entire rescue," Scott said.

"Yeah," Virgil's reply was non-committal.

Scott looked at his younger brother. "You don't feel it, do you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Don't feel what?"

Scott looked around; no one was looking in their direction. "I think it's over here."

"What is?" Virgil followed obediently as Scott lead him to the cliff face.

"It's around here somewhere… ah!" Scott wiped some snow off a rock.

But it wasn't the rock Scott was interested in. It was the plaque attached to the rock. The corner had been pulverised by previous rock falls but most of it was legible.

In Memory of

William Tracy

And

Lucille Tracy

19 October 2046

"Two more stars in heaven"

Virgil read it and re-read it. The meaning sank in. "Then this is where…"

Another man was coming towards them. "Good, you haven't left. I just had to add my thanks." He saw what they were looking at. "Oh, I see you've found the plaque. That was my first big rescue. You know of Jeff Tracy, the former astronaut and industrialist?"

They nodded cautiously.

"It was his wife and father. A terrible tragedy. The whole family were going on holiday. These two were in the car in front with the two youngest children. Don't ask me how they survived. Tracy was following up in another car with his three older boys. The oldest was about 10, and the youngest, I think, five. When we got there, the boys had started digging. Goodness knows how, but they'd worked out almost exactly to the foot where the car was located and had managed to dig about two metres into the avalanche. They were lucky it didn't collapse on them. The 10-year-old practically ordered us to continue and the younger two were digging like slaves. We had to drag them away.

"Tracy was practically a basket case. His wife had died just before we arrived on the scene. I fancy his astronaut career was finished at that point..." He had taken a long look at the two International Rescue men as he was talking and now he looked around furtively. "I'm glad to see that he got his life back on track. How's John?"

Scott and Virgil both gave startled jumps. "What?"

"You've both grown and changed somewhat, but some rescues stick in the mind, and I've never forgotten those three boys who tried to dig their mother out." He laid his finger on the side of his nose and gave them a conspiratal wink. "I'm Dave."

Scott was unsure how to handle this new development. Play dumb, or go along with it.

Virgil decided that he had no such inhibitions. They'd trusted Dave then and he was willing to trust him now. "He's fine. Still playing with his radios."

Scott decided to protest. "Virgi…" he realised too late that by saying his brother's name he'd let the cat out of the bag. He sighed. "I guess secrecy's a waste of time now. How are you, Dave?"

"Me? I'm great. Especially as you've rescued this family. It's always bad losing someone, but I don't need to tell you that. How's the youngest two? I've seen them mentioned in the papers. Didn't one of them win an Olympic medal and the other's a racing car driver, isn't he?"

"Yep," Scott confirmed.

"Are they working with you too?" Seeing Scott's sudden frown, Dave backtracked. "No, don't answer that! I know, I know too much as it is, but don't worry, I won't mention this to a living soul. Just call it the brotherhood of the rescue services." There was a yell from over at his car. "Guess I've got to go."

Scott held out his hand. "I don't know if we thanked you properly back then, but the entire family's grateful for what you and the rest of your team did."

Dave shook Scott's hand before doing the same with Virgil. "Hey, not a problem. Just wish we could have done more." He looked back at the plaque, not seeing the look that passed between Scott and Virgil. "You know it's a shame your organisation wasn't around 22 years ago. Things might have been much different." He said a final good bye and was gone.

"Yeah," Scott said thoughtfully. "Things would have been much different."

They wandered back towards 'The Scoop.' "You know," Virgil said, "I still can't believe that this is where it happened."

Scott looked at his younger brother. Virgil was shorter than him but not by much. "Well you have grown a bit since then…"

Virgil took the hint and stopped. He dropped to his knees as if he were fiddling with his boots. He casually glanced round and then leant on the ground for support as the memories came flooding back. "Now I know what you mean by déjà vu."

He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair, before smoothing it back into place. Scott was irresistibly reminded of his mother. "Gee, you're like Ma…"

It was an observation that Virgil had heard many times, usually pronounced in awed tones by an elderly Great Aunt or some old family friend. His stock answer was, "Not too much like her I hope." He repeated it now, automatically, as he followed Scott into 'The Scoop.'

"Hey, you don't have to convince me!" Scott grinned. "I'm your brother, remember. I know what you got up to at college."

Virgil grinned in return. "It was never as bad as some of the things you did, Scott."

"Such as?"

"Well I seem to remember something about Mary Fairweather and the Girls' Dorm…"

They were interrupted by the radio. "Thunderbird Five to Mobile Control."

Scott answered the call. "Mobile Control. Go ahead, John."

"You guys going to be much longer?"

"No, we're packing up now."

"Great. I'll see you soon."

John switched the radio frequency to one that would contact home. His father's face appeared on the monitor.

"How's it going, John?"

"Scott says they're just packing up."

"Good. As soon as you've got word that they're leaving, you boys can come home."

"What's going on, Dad?"

"All in good time, son, all in good time."

As usual, Scott was the first one home. By the time he'd completed the maintenance checks on Thunderbird One, Thunderbird Two was arriving. He went to Thunderbird Two's hangar to help Virgil with the cleaning up of 'The Scoop' and other equipment. That finished they headed back to the main house.

They entered the lounge and were confronted with a pile of boxes, rearranged furniture and their father sitting at his desk reading a large file. He looked up. "Good you're finished. By the time you've had showers, Thunderbird Three should be back."

"Thunderbird Three? Is everything okay?" Virgil asked, concerned.

"Everything's fine."

"What's all this, Father?" Scott asked.

"I'll tell you soon. Go and get washed." He sounded as if he was telling two errant sons to get ready for dinner. They left the lounge meekly.

"Any ideas, Scott?" Virgil asked as he reached his bedroom door.

"I think I've seen those boxes before, but I can't place it. I guess the sooner we get freshened up, the sooner we'll find out."

Revelations

Scott and Virgil returned to the lounge when they heard the roar of jets that announced Thunderbird Three's return. Jeff was occupying one of the seats that he'd positioned in the circle. "Take a seat boys. We'll get started as soon as the others arrive."

They sat in two armchairs facing the sofa that would disgorge the crew of Thunderbird Three, Scott on his father's right and Virgil next to him.

They didn't have long to wait before the empty sofa slid out of sight to be replaced by a rather more full one.

"John! What are you doing here?"

He shrugged and mouthed, "What's going on?" so that his father wouldn't hear. His reply was twin shrugs from Scott and Virgil.

Jeff slid the papers he'd been reading back into the envelope and stood up. "I'll go and see if your Grandmother's ready to join us." He left the room.

"Anyone got any ideas?" John asked as he slid from the crowded sofa onto the vacant chair beside.

"None," Scott told him. "We didn't even know Thunderbird Three'd gone till we got back, and to have the whole family together…" he trailed off with yet another shrug.

"What's all this?" Alan asked kicking lightly at a box.

Scott frowned. "I've seen them before, but where?"

"Yeah," John agreed, "they're kinda familiar."

"Know what this reminds me of?" Gordon asked. No one asked him what, but he continued on anyway. "Remember those old detective movies? You know where at the end the detective calls all the suspects together and says…" he lowered his voice into a serious monotone, "I suppose you are all wondering why I've called you together. The murderer is…" He received an elbow in the ribs, from John, as his father and Grandmother entered the room.

Jeff held the chair for his mother, who gave John a hug of welcome first, before sitting down himself. Brains and the Kyranos had decided that this was a strictly family meeting and had retired to other parts of the house.

"Well," Jeff began. "I suppose you are all wondering why I've called you together…"

Alan and Gordon stifled laughs and received a frown, tempered with a smile, from Scott.

Jeff continued on without appearing to have heard the interruption. "I've decided that the time has come to give out some apologies." Now all the Tracy boys were frowning. "My first apology is to you five boys. I know I wasn't a very good father to you before your mother died."

"Dad…" John started to protest but stopped when Jeff raised his hand.

"I was too wrapped up in my work. Too excited by the glamour of space travel. I loved you all, but I reasoned that when my work was finished then we'd have time together. I realise now that I missed out on a lot.

"My second apology is to you, Mother." Mrs. Tracy looked surprised. "I barely gave you a second thought during the accident, when Pa and Lucille died. I'm sure I could have been more support."

"I could be apologising to you for the same reason, Jeff," she replied.

"My third apology is to you three - Scott, John and Virgil. As your father I should have been looking after you while we waited for the rescue teams to arrive. I must admit that my memories of that day are pretty hazy, but I know I did nothing to support you." He laid a hand on the envelope. "I've just been reading the official report. It's the first time I've seen it. I hadn't realised that you three tried to dig them out. I should've been by your side helping."

"It wouldn't have made any difference, Father," Scott told him. "It still took the rescue authorities at least half an hour to get there, and they had the proper equipment. Not a couple of hubcaps and a mug."

"But at least I would have been doing something constructive," Jeff protested.

"You were talking to Ma and Grandpa," John told them. "I remember his last words to me… 'Thank you for lending me the radio. You've made these last minutes so much easier.' I didn't understand at the time, but now I know that being able to talk to you, it made it much less… less…" he struggled to find the right word, "…frightening. They didn't feel that they were alone while they were communicating with you."

Jeff thought for a moment, running back through his mind what had just been said. "Just a moment! Where'd you get the hubcaps from?"

"Scott pulled them off our car," John told him.

Jeff turned to his oldest son, who'd turned slightly pink. "But the hubcaps were locked on to that model of car. It was supposed to be a guard against theft. How'd you manage to lever them off?"

Scott turned a deeper shade of red. "Well…" he hedged. Everyone was looking at him with open interest. Alan and Gordon were on the edge of their seats waiting for what they were sure would be a juicy bit of information about their big brother. Scott sighed, took a deep breath and the words came out in a rush. "It was something that a group of kids that I used to hang out with used to do. We'd steal hubcaps. It was a challenge; see who could get the most different or unusual models. Then we started using them as Frisbees, aiming them at people's windows, seeing if we were accurate enough to break them. I became something of an expert at picking car locks… I'm not proud of it now…" his voice trailed off lamely.

Everyone was looking at him in astonishment. Scott Tracy! The perfect Scott Tracy who was good at everything, never did anything wrong, kind to animals, helped little old ladies across the road. Scott Tracy a thief and vandal? Alan and Gordon were grinning from ear to ear. Jeff's mouth was slightly open in disbelief.

"Humph." It was Mrs. Tracy. "I knew those boys you hung out with were no good."

"The gang had planned to convert a car, while I was on holiday - just a practise run. That's why I didn't want to go away - I didn't want to miss out on the action. We were going to steal Sean Matheson's Thunderbird when we went back to school. It's just as well I never went back."

"Always had a thing for Thunderbirds, did you?" Alan chortled.

Scott couldn't look his father in the eye. "I'm ashamed of what I used to do." Telling the tale was becoming easier now. "I'd skip classes; get into fights. Ma was always at the Principal's office."

"I didn't realise… I didn't know…" Jeff was stunned.

"I told Lucille that she should tell you, but you were always going off on some dangerous mission or other and she wanted your mind fully on the job," his mother informed him.

"She knew?" He sagged at the realisation. "Did you boys know?"

Virgil was shaking his head, but John spoke up. "Oh, yeah," he said casually. "If anyone was called to the Principal's office, or if there was a fight in the playground, you could guarantee that Scott was in the thick of it."

Alan and Gordon were openly laughing at Scott's expression.

Virgil had a slight grin on his face. "And to think I used to idolise you."

"Yeah. That's something that worries me now. That I would have dragged you down with me. You always looked up to me…"

"And you always hated me!"

"No I didn't!" Scott protested, and then he paused. "Yes I did. You seemed to always be in the way. 'Can I come with you, Scott?' 'What are you doing, Scott?' 'Help me, Scott!' I got sick of the sound of my own name, and the way you said it. John was all right. He was always off reading a book or fiddling with his telescope, but you were always in my way."

Virgil looked slightly hurt.

"There's something else that I'd like to get off my chest," Scott continued on. He forced himself to look at his father. "You remember when the case that held your moon rock was broken?"

"Yes," Jeff said cautiously.

"And I said I'd seen Virgil do it?"

"Yes," said Jeff.

"Yes!" said Virgil with feeling.

"He wasn't anywhere near it. I took the rock to show my 'friends' and I broke the case trying to put it back again."

"You mean that you let me bawl your, what, five year old brother out. Punish him for something that you did?"

"Ah, yes. Sorry, Virg." It was difficult looking at either his father or Virgil now, but Jeff's attention had switched to his middle son.

"And you didn't deny it?"

Virgil shrugged. "I figured Scott must have a good reason, and besides I got my revenge." All eyes were on him now. "I got a pot of pink paint and poured it into his school bag."

Alan, Gordon, and John cracked up. Mrs. Tracy tried to stifle a grin.

"So that's how that got in there," Scott exclaimed. "You did me a favour. I had an assignment that was due in and I hadn't done it. I pulled my folder out of my bag and there it was dripping with wet, pink paint. I had the perfect excuse for the teacher. Better than 'the dog ate my homework.' She gave me an extension."

Virgil was astounded. "You mean you were actually pleased that I'd done that?" Scott nodded. "I wasted a perfectly good pot of paint. I remember that I wanted that colour soon afterwards and I didn't have any left." He pouted as if he were five again. "It's not fair!" He crossed his arms in a pretend sulk and then burst into laughter along with the rest of his family.

Scott chuckled. "If it's any consolation I still failed to complete the assignment on time, and the teacher gave me lunchtime detention for a week."

"So what made you change?" Alan asked.

"Let's just say that I learnt how important family were…"

"I'm curious, Scott," John said. "While you're admitting to everything except for the sabotage of the 'Fireflash,' are you going to take the blame for damaging Grandpa's antique radio, which I got punished for?"

Scott frowned. "No. I didn't do that. I thought you had."

"Oh I did. I just wondered if you were prepared to take the blame."

"Sorry, Johnny. No can do."

By now Gordon and Alan were in hysterics. "Listen to you guys!" Gordon managed to gasp. "If confession is good for the soul, you four must be almost up to heaven by now."

"And Scott's being measured for his wings," Alan wiped tears of laughter from his face.

"Probably stole them off some angel." Laughing, Gordon collapsed against Alan's shoulder.

"Settle down you two," Jeff growled. "I called this meeting for a reason, and I think we'd better get back on track. Although I might want to take this topic up later on… privately…" he sent Scott a meaningful glance.

Scott looked even more uncomfortable.

Alan took advantage of the silence that followed. "What actually happened? No one's ever wanted to talk to me about it. I know there was an avalanche. I know that Gordon and I almost died. But that's all. What happened?" he said urgently.

It was his grandmother who explained to him. Told him about the events leading up to her beloved husband's death. But there she stopped. She had no recollection of what followed.

Then it was Scott, aided by John who completed the story. Explaining how they'd used the radios, how they'd tried to dig. How relieved they were to see the two tiny bundles extricated from the car and the unimaginable sorrow at seeing their mother's body.

Virgil listened quietly. Memories that had haunted him since he'd pretended to adjust his boot at the North-west Pass intensified. Feelings that had lain dormant for many years, awoke and gnawed at him. Finally they needed to be expressed.

"It was my fault!" he said quietly.

It was barely a whisper. No one was sure what had been said. "What was that, Virg?" Scott asked.

This time he said it louder. "I've always known that it was my fault that Ma and Grandpa died."

"Virgil!" Scott exclaimed.

"No, Darling," Mrs. Tracy said comfortingly.

"But why?" Jeff asked in concern.

"Maybe if I hadn't painted that picture and they'd got away when they wanted to, they wouldn't have been in the path of the avalanche." The pain in his voice was unmistakable.

"Is that why you kept apologising?" Scott asked.

"Huh?" Virgil looked at his oldest brother, confused.

"For days afterwards all you'd say was 'sorry.' You didn't say anything else until after Alan and Gordon came home. Is that what you were apologising for? You were blaming yourself for the accident?" Scott asked alarmed by his brother's admission.

"I-I don't remember. But probably."

"You can't think like that," John admonished him gently. "Why didn't you talk to someone? 22 years is a long time to keep something like that bottled up."

Virgil was staring at his hands, clenched so tightly together that his knuckles were white. "How could a five year old put into words something like that? And as Alan said, we haven't talked about it since."

Jeff was silent. To him this was another example of how he'd failed his sons after the accident.

Scott rubbed his brother's back in sympathy. "You don't know that it wouldn't have happened anyway."

"That's just it! I don't know! I've had to live with the guilt that maybe if I hadn't been so selfish, they would have lived," Virgil sounded as if he was close to tears.

"Well I do know!" Jeff's voice had a calming affect. "I've read the official report and it says that that avalanche was just waiting to happen. The snow was early that year. Then there was a warm spell, melting the surface into ice, and then more snow. The top layer didn't have anything to cement itself to. The slightest loud noise would have set it off. It wouldn't have mattered how much earlier they'd left, they still would have been the first vehicle to pass through and would have triggered the avalanche.

"In fact," he added, "it's just as well you did hold us up." Virgil looked at him with surprise. "If the two cars had have been travelling together, as we'd planned, we may all have been trapped. And there's one other thing." Jeff felt about in the envelope as he was talking. "You were originally to have travelled with your mother. We already had your booster seat in the back seat of her car, on the driver's side and had to change it over to mine. Ah, here it is…" he pulled at an 8 x 12 photo and handed it to Virgil. It was of the car. The driver's compartment was partially crushed. The boot and the rear passenger seat on the driver's side had been practically flattened. "If you'd travelled in that car, you'd almost certainly have been killed."

Virgil stared at the photo. He hadn't thought about that possibility.

"Feel better now?" Scott asked.

Virgil wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yeah, I do. I hadn't realised."

"I don't think any of us had," Jeff told him. "I hadn't read the report until today. I've kept it with all these boxes in the storeroom. They contain the items that were salvaged from the car. I thought today we might finally open them."

Little Boxes

The first three boxes contained bits of pieces of clothing, belonging to various members of the family and a number of items for cabin use. A lot of what they found caused much hilarity.

"This has gotta be Alan's," Gordon exclaimed, holding up a tiny, babies romper suit. He held it under Alan's neck. "Gee you haven't grown much."

"How about this?" Alan asked in return, he'd found a slightly larger outfit. It was coloured purple. "You must have looked 'simply divine' in this colour." Gordon screwed up his face.

"I used to fit this?!" Grandma Tracy stood up and held a dress against herself. She wasn't a big woman now, but the dress she held looked several sizes too small.

"I used to love this outfit." Jeff was holding a tan two-piece number at arm's length. "All the astronauts used to wear them. We thought they made us look so dashing… 'devil may care'… reckless. The girls used to love it. Looking at it now, it's a wonder that they trusted us with a supermarket trolley, let alone a moon rocket. Taste obviously wasn't a part of the job description!"

"I don't remember this!" Virgil had found a portable keyboard. He played a scale on it. "Sure could use some tuning."

"Trust you to home in on a piano," Scott said as he pulled a box out. "Hey, this used to be a great game. We should see if we can remember how to play it after dinner."

"You thought it was a great game because you always won," John reminded him. "Things might be a bit more even now."

In the hall Brains, Tin-Tin and Kyrano were listening to the sounds of laughter emanating from the lounge.

"It is time to prepare for dinner," Kyrano said. "Perhaps I should wait."

"T-they sound like they are enj-joying themselves," Brains stuttered. "They m-might be a while yet."

"Why don't we make a start?" Tin-Tin suggested. "We can make something that can be re-heated if they haven't finished by the time it's ready."

There was another shout of laughter from the lounge.

"What are they doing?" Tin-Tin asked.

"The boxes. They are the ones that contained the items that were in the car that Mr. Tracy's wife and father were killed in," Kyrano informed her.

Her eyes widened. "How'd you know?"

"Mr. Tracy, he told me to put them in the farthest corner of the storeroom, when we all moved to the island. I think he wished to hide them from memory."

"S-so why are they g-going through them now?" Brains asked.

"I do not know, Mr. Brains. Perhaps Mr. Tracy felt that it was time…"

"Time to open the last box," Jeff said as he slid the knife around the tape that sealed the box that had held the official envelope. He was feeling more relaxed now but tensed up when he saw the contents. The rest of his family felt his change in mood and lapsed into silence.

The topmost item was contained in a sealed plastic bag. It appeared to be some kind of floral material. Jeff took it out of the box and examined it more closely. "It's the dress your mother was wearing," he eventually said.

No one knew what to say.

After a long pause Scott cleared his throat. "Let's see what else is in here." He reached in and pulled out a torch.

"That was the only light they had," Jeff told them.

Scott turned it on. Even after 22 years, the light still worked. "Good batteries," He remarked before reaching into the box again. This time he pulled out a blanket. "Hey, Alan. This was yours."

Alan took the midnight blue blanket. The pattern was a constellation of yellow and white stars. "It's minty."

"You were wrapped up in it," Jeff said. "Your mother must have taken it off you as the car began to get warmer."

Alan looked at the blanket again, folded it up and laid it on his lap. He'd take it back to his room when they'd finished here.

The next few items were commonplace ones - a map, a pen and paper, a box of tissues…

"Hey what's this?" Gordon reached into the box and pulled out a yellow piece of plastic.

"Fishie!" Scott, John, and Jeff told him, in a chorus of laughter.

"That was your favourite toy," his grandmother informed him. "We couldn't take it off you. If it went missing, the whole house would be in an upheaval until it was found again."

"So that's why you became an aquanaut!" Alan snapped his fingers at the realisation. "You've spent the last 22 years looking for your plastic fish!"

Gordon put it into his pocket before looking back into the box. "Well here's something of yours that would have been very helpful over the last 22 years." He pulled out a baby's dummy. "No wonder we can't keep you quiet. We didn't have this to shove into your mouth."

John had spied something. "Hey there's the radio." He pulled it out of the box. "Now I've got the full set again."

"Just how did you boys know to use the radios and triangulate to find the car?" Jeff asked.

"I can't remember," Scott said. "We must have studied it in one of the few classes I actually attended."

"I remember that Scott said something to me, and I turned away and the signal weakened," John said. "I didn't have a clue what Scott was doing after that, but it worked. We knew where to dig."

The next item to emerge was a battered old hat. Mrs. Tracy took it. "It was your grandfather's favourite. I kept on trying to throw it out, but he always retrieved it. Said good hats were hard to find and there was still enough wear in this one that he wasn't about to waste money on a new one." She hugged the hat close to herself. "I always hated it, but he loved it."

They had reached the bottom of the box.

Well, nearly the bottom. Jeff reached in and pulled out another envelope. Opening it he pulled out a painting. A big green blob on a blue background. "Look! Your aeroplane," he grinned and showed Virgil.

"She took it with her?" Virgil was amazed.

"Here, let's have a look," Alan reached out and carefully took the picture. "Not up to your usual standards, Virgil."

"Hey! It's Thunderbird Two!" Gordon exclaimed, looking over his brother's shoulder.

"What?" John took the picture. "Well so it is. It's got the wings facing forwards and everything. I always said that ugly, big, green bug looked like it had been dreamed up by a kid. I was right."

"Ugly, big, green bug!" Virgil was scandalised. "She's beautiful."

"Aw!" Gordon and Alan began making kissing noises. Virgil threw a cushion at them.

The painting had returned to Jeff's hands. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I might just get this framed."

"Father! No!" Virgil protested.

"Why not? I can't have a picture of any of our Thunderbird craft on the wall, but why not a painting that my son did when he was five. I'll hang it underneath the other two you did in my office. No one will ever know what it means to us."

"Okay," said Virgil grudgingly. He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair.

Jeff was watching him. "You really are like your mother," he said gently.

Alan and Gordon started sniggering and waited for the stock answer.

Instead, Virgil cocked an eye in Scott's direction. "So I keep getting told." Scott offered him a grin in return.

"If you want to stop people saying it," he said, "you're going to have to stop doing that."

"Doing what," Virgil was confused.

"Running your fingers through your hair," Jeff told him. "Your mother was always doing it."

"It was a refined version of pulling her hair out over you boys," Mrs. Tracy commented.

"Oh!" Virgil said.

Gordon and Alan began to laugh, and the rest of the family had to grin. Virgil froze, his left hand half way towards his hair. He then used his right hand to force it back down again so he could sit on it. "I've got to get that fixed," he said, as his right hand automatically did the very action he was trying to stop. His entire family collapsed in laughter. He frowned. "How come everyone's suddenly picking on me?"

"Cause you're the middle kid," Alan was still laughing. "It's your turn."

"Yeah," Gordon agreed with a big grin, "and now we've got some juicy ammo about our oldest brother we can save it up for later."

"Great!" Scott moaned.

"Hey, Virgil," John suddenly said seriously. "Do you realise that we were only a couple of minutes away from you being the youngest brother and me being the middle one?"

Alan and Gordon stopped laughing. "It really was that close?"

"It wasn't minutes, it was seconds," Jeff informed them.

"Wow." Alan lapsed into thought.

"You know," Gordon said haltingly, "I think I can remember some of what happened." Everyone looked at him. "I think I remember a scream and being jolted about, and then darkness. I think I remember Ma's voice telling us everything would be all right."

"Anything else?" his Grandmother prompted him gently.

"About the accident? No. But I'll tell you something else that happened after my hydrofoil accident. When I woke up out of the coma everything seemed kinda familiar. I knew that Dad would be sitting beside me, before I saw him, but I expected him to look as he did 17 years earlier." He paused. "But one thing was exactly the same…" He stopped.

His family waited expectantly.

Alan grew impatient. "Well!"

"No. You don't want to hear it. You'll think I'm crazy."

"So what's new?" Alan asked.

Gordon shot him a dirty look. "I'm being serious here."

Alan looked abashed "Sorry."

"Please, Gordon," his father asked. "Tell us."

"Well…" Gordon still sounded reluctant. "At your shoulder… There was a woman…"

"A nurse?" John asked.

"No. I looked at Dad… then at the woman… She smiled at me… then I looked away… When I looked back she'd gone."

"She'd left the room?" Scott asked.

"Yeah… but no one had gone out the door."

Jeff was frowning. "After your hydrofoil accident, I was the only one in the room when you came round. And there were only male staff on duty at that time."

"So who was this woman?" John asked.

"Some psychiatrist would probably tell me it was a figment of my imagination formed out of the trauma of the events that had led to me being in hospital, but… I think it was Ma."

There was a collective intake of breath from the rest of the family.

"I'm only going on photos," Gordon continued on, "and the fact that this woman was so much like Virgil," he gave his older brother an apologetic grin, "but I honestly think it was Ma, just letting me know that everything would be okay. That she was keeping an eye on me. On us."

"Whew," Scott let out the breath he'd been holding.

Gordon was determined now to complete his narrative. "As I said, everything seemed to be familiar. I think that when I woke up after the avalanche Dad was sitting beside me, on the same side," Jeff was nodding agreement, "and 'Ma' was standing beside him. She was only there a moment, only this time…" he screwed up his eyes trying to dredge the memory up from the depths of his subconscious, "she said that I had to be brave, and that we'd be together again sometime." He gave a small chuckle. "I guess after the hydrofoil accident she was trying to tell me that it was too soon yet."

"Thank heavens for that," Mrs. Tracy said quietly.

No one else said anything.

Eventually Jeff cleared his throat. "Well, I've learnt more this afternoon than I anticipated. Thank you for being so… open. I hope that from now on we won't feel so reticent about discussing the accident. It's done none of us any good keeping it bottled up, and I'm including myself in that. Does anyone else want to say anything?"

No one moved.

He looked at his watch. "Look at the time! We're late for dinner." There was a loud rumble from Scott's direction. "And I think we're being summoned to the dinner table." He stood up.

"Ah, Father," John was slow getting to his feet. "Would it be all right if…"

His father smiled genially. "I think International Rescue can survive with Thunderbird Five unattended for one night. You can head back tomorrow."

John looked relieved.

Review

After dinner, the Tracy boys retired to the lounge. They began to slowly pack the boxes up again.

"We'll leave them out, so if Father or Grandma want to go through them again they can," Scott said.

The job finished they all sat down in the chairs they'd occupied before dinner.

"I don't know about you guys," Virgil commented, "but I'm exhausted, mentally and physically. It's been a big day."

"Yeah, it's certainly been a day for revelations," Gordon said. He looked at Scott. "You were really going to steal the T-Bird?"

"Something tells me I'm going to regret saying that," Scott said. "But yes, I was."

Gordon gave a chuckle. "I can just see it. Scott Tracy - a gang member with long hair and tattoos."

Alan expanded on the picture. "Unwashed, leather jacket and attitude."

"Pierced ears," Gordon continued the theme.

"Pierced nose," Alan added.

"And other places we won't mention," Gordon completed the picture.

Scott shifted uncomfortably, folded his arms and crossed his legs. "Steady on! There are limits!"

"What happened to those kids you used to hang out with?" John asked.

"I lost contact, but I think two of them ended up in jail. And I think one was involved in a murder charge."

Alan gave a long, low whistle. "Just think. We could have had a brother who was a jail bird."

Scott gave a grimace at the thought "Yeah, I'm glad I got out of that scene."

Virgil looked at Scott. "So am I. I think we all are." He said quietly. His brothers nodded in agreement.

"And how are you?" Scott asked Virgil, a frown of concern creasing his handsome features.

"Me? Feeling as if a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. I'm glad we had that discussion."

"I think Dad's feeling the same way," Alan said. "He seemed so relaxed during dinner. He didn't even scold Gordon for reaching across the table and knocking over the salt."

"If you'd handed it to me when I asked, I wouldn't have had to reach!"

"I've been meaning to ask guys," John was addressing Scott and Virgil. "Just how close was today's accident to..."

"At the exact same spot," Scott told him. "We found the plaque and everything. It was damaged in the avalanche, remind me to tell Father it needs replacing."

"That's not all we found," Virgil grinned. "Remember Dave?"

"Dave was there?" John was amazed.

"Yeah, we didn't tell Father, because we thought he'd have a blue fit, but he recognised us and asked after you."

"You're right. He would have a blue fit. Still Dave seemed all right then…"

"He was and he will be now. He won't give us away…"

Jeff was still sitting at the dinner table. His mother finished tidying up and then sat next to him, taking his hand in hers. "You're quiet, Honey," she said.

"Just thinking, Mother. The things I've learned today. I thought I knew those boys pretty well, but I guess…"

"I know what you mean. Scott and those boys… Virgil - 22 years! Gordon…" She didn't complete any of her sentences, but he knew what she was thinking.

"You know, thinking about what we were told today, it makes me realise what a bad father I've been to them."

"Jeff Tracy! Listen to you! You've been a wonderful, caring, supportive, loving father. They couldn't ask for anything better."

"But you heard them. Before Lucille died, I didn't know half of what went on. And after…"

"Now listen to me, Jeff," she smacked him lightly on the back of the hand. "Sure you made some mistakes, all parents do, but you learnt from them and became a better father because of them."

"I guess I still miss her. Things would have been so much better if she'd…"

"Jeff!" His mother said in exasperation. "Think about it. If the avalanche hadn't have happened, would you have given up being an astronaut?"

"Well, not straight away, but eventually…"

"And would you have bought into the engineering firm?"

"No, I…"

"And would you have been able to make all your money?"

"Probably not…"

"And would you have been able to afford giving those boys the education they received?"

"No…"

"Including sending all five of them to good universities."

"The way Scott was talking, it may have only been four. We'd have been visiting him in the State Penitentiary." Jeff gave a quiet chuckle at the thought.

"And could you have sponsored all those other young people you've helped get tertiary education?"

"No."

"And would you have met Brains?"

"No."

"And would you have met Lady Penelope and Parker?"

"No." By now he'd given up on trying to give a more detailed answer.

"And would you have met Kyrano and Tin-Tin?"

"Yes!" He'd got her. "I met Kyrano at the Space Agency, remember."

"But would you have earned enough money to form International Rescue?"

"No."

"And saved all those people over the years?"

"No."

"Including that family that were saved today. Doomed their relatives to go through what we did."

"Mother!" now it was Jeff's turn to become exasperated. "I get the idea."

"I know it's hard, Jeff. And believe me there's not a day that I don't wish that your father were here with me. But if he'd lived, I would have missed out on so much. Being a large part of my five grandsons growing up into wonderful, caring young men. Seeing my son stick to his guns and follow his dreams, making me proud of him. Being part of International Rescue! I wouldn't change the last 22 years for anything.

"As I've got older, Jeff, I've come to believe one thing. No matter how hard it is to take at the time, no matter how cruel the circumstances seem. I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. We may not understand initially, but in time we will. We just have to be patient."

He looked at her as what she'd just said sunk in. "You're a very wise woman, Mother."

"I've lived and learned, Jeff. You don't get to be my age without learning about the facts of life - and I don't mean 'the birds and bees' either."

He laughed and squeezed her hand and she was relieved to see the frown that had been creasing his forehead disappear. "You're a tonic," he said.

"Just you remember that, Jefferson!"

"Yes, Mother," he said obediently.

"Good boy." She kissed him as if he were still her little boy and rose.

His eyes followed her as she left the room. "Yes," he agreed, as he thought about how lucky he'd been. "Everything happens for a reason."