PIXIE PYRE by PURUPUSS RATED FRC

International Rescue are called out for one emergency only to find themselves
involved in another, more personal one...

Newspaper

Mitch Mountain stared at the headline.

"I don't believe it," he groaned. "Eleven years I've worked at that factory, and what does it all mean? Nothing! I've got a wife and a child to support, and what do the bureaucrats care about that? Not a thing!" He threw the paper onto the floor.

His wife Teresa picked up the paper and looked at it. "I know it's hard on you, it just means that we are going to have to tighten our purse strings for a while, but we will survive, we can make it. You're intelligent and a quick learner and I could go back to work..."

"NO!" was Mitch's emphatic response. "I promised you when we married that you wouldn't have to work, and I'm going to keep that promise."

"It would only be until you find work again, and besides, there's no shame in the women in the household earning the pay-cheque nowadays, and there is a big demand for the skills I have."

Mitch rounded on her. "I said NO."

Teresa's temper flared. "Don't you come the 'big guy' with me. All that macho stuff went out decades ago. Our marriage is a contract, remember, we're equal partners. We both have an interest in our welfare and Cassie's."

"It's because of Cassie that I have to get a job." Mitch's voice had reached full volume. "I'm not about to let our daughter think that her dad is useless."

Five year old Cassie sat on the back stairs, tears streaming down her face. She hugged her teddy bear. "It's my fault, 'Everest'," she whispered. "I made Daddy and Mummy fight. If I wasn't here, everything would be okay." She wiped her eyes and resolutely stood up. "Come on, Everest," she said. "We'll leave and it will be all right, Mummy and Daddy will be friends again." She wandered off down the path.

Inside, Mitch had calmed down. "I'm sorry, Honey," he said. "I guess I've over-reacted. You never know, this may be a blessing in disguise. If I do some extra study, maybe I can land a better job!"

Teresa gave him an affectionate hug. "That's more like it," she assured him "I know these past few days have been tough, but we're tough too. We will survive." She gave him another squeeze. "Tell you what, the three of us should go for a walk in the park. It's a beautiful day and it will help to blow the cobwebs away. You pack some cold drinks and I'll go get Cassie ready." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left the room.

Mitch was actually humming a happy tune to himself when Teresa returned, a worried frown creasing her forehead. "Have you seen Cassie?" she asked.

Magazine

In a recent poll this magazine asked you to name the sexiest people in the world today. In this issue of 2000+ magazine we bring you these surprising results.

Although at 20% your husband / partner / boyfriend rated highly, surprisingly the prize to the sexiest men in the world today go to the members of the International Rescue organisation. Surprising, because so few of our correspondents have met or even seen photos of these men.

As we all know, International Rescue works under a strict veil of secrecy which means that they never give interviews and never allow photos to be taken.

So then why did 25% of our correspondents rank these men so highly? We asked a professional psychologist.

"For those who have actually been rescued by the International Rescue organisation, it is a natural response. Frequently, people who work in other rescue organisations receive affection from the people who they have helped. This doesn't explain why a large number of people who have only heard of International Rescue through the media should feel the same way. I believe that the reason for this is that many women harbour a secret desire to be rescued by a knight on a charging white stallion... a fairy tale hero who is strong, silent and mysterious, and International Rescue is seen as the modern incarnation of this."

Tin-Tin chuckled to herself. She had bought this magazine because it contained an article on the renewal of the Malaysian rainforest, and had only started reading this article out of idle curiosity. A movement in the doorway caught her eye, she looked up and the chuckle turned into a laugh.

Standing there, were four of the sexiest men in the world.

Virgil Tracy had a smear of oil across his face, from above his right eyebrow, across his nose, to just below his left ear. His blue overalls had hand-prints of oil streaked down them.

Scott's front was covered with a thick layer of rescue orange coloured paint so that only the occasional spot of blue overall was visible.

Alan's blond hair was streaked with black oil. The hair that wasn't plastered to his head, was standing up on end, which gave him the air of a demented parrot.

Gordon, at first, looked relatively clean. But when he turned, Tin-Tin saw that the seat of his overalls and the back of his legs were also covered in bright orange paint.

All four were hot, tired, dirty - filthy even, but sexy was not a word that Tin-Tin would have chosen to describe them at this precise moment.

She was just going to ask what they were up to when a shriek behind her made her stop!

Grandma Tracy was standing there with a look of fury on her face.

"Get out," she cried. "What do you think you're doing, coming in here and getting the carpet dirty."

Virgil tried to calm her down. "We've taken our shoes off..."

"That may well be," Grandma snapped " but your clothes are dripping oil and paint and goodness knows what else!"

"But, Grandma," Scott protested. "We just came in for a drink of lemonade."

"You know better than to come through the house in that state," Grandma admonished him. "Get out, all of you and we'll bring down some lemonade in a minute. And don't touch the paint work," she bellowed at Alan, who had backed into the door jamb.

Tin-Tin brought them the lemonade on a tray and the Tracy boys stood by the pool and gratefully accepted the drinks.

"So..." Tin-Tin eyed them up thoughtfully. "Just what have you been doing to get into that mess?"

Scott took a mouthful of lemonade. "It's his fault." He nodded in Alan's direction. "We were giving The Mole an overhaul..."

"Why is it always my fault?" Alan broke in angrily. "I was doing my job, same as you were. I was touching up the paint work on The Mole..."

Scott interrupted. "And dropped his paint brush behind The Mole's caterpillar tracks."

"So I had to climb under The Mole to get my brush and leave the tin of paint sitting on the edge of the track."

"It wasn't my fault that Virgil had a container of oil under The Mole!"

Virgil had managed to smear the oil from his eyebrow down the right side of his face.

"You knew I was draining the oil for recycling," he said. "I didn't expect you to stick your head in it, and I don't appreciate being used as an oil cloth."

Gordon picked up the story. "Alan was making such a fuss that we decided to move The Mole so he could get his brush. I got in the cab to move it forward, but of course Alan had forgotten about the tin of paint on the track..."

"And I was standing beside giving directions," said Scott.

"Ah," said Tin-Tin as realisation dawned.

"I heard Scott yell," said Gordon, "and I thought I'd run over his foot or something. So I stopped The Mole and jumped out of the cab. I didn't know about the paint and my feet slipped out from under me." He rubbed his behind tenderly. "I shan't be sitting down for a while."

Tin-Tin laughed. "I wish I'd been there to see it. It sounds like a real comedy of errors." She looked at the magazine she was still carrying. "Maybe this will cheer you up." She started reading them the article and four of the sexiest men in the world turned varying shades of pink.

Virgil looked at the state of his overalls. "If they could see us now, they'd soon change their minds," he said ruefully.

"Here's a bit I didn't read before!" Tin-Tin exclaimed. "Votes for the worlds sexiest women were more predictable with 'My wife / partner / girlfriend' getting 30%. There was, however one male voter who plugged for 'the sexy female member of International Rescue who saved me'." She pursed her lips together. "Maybe I should go on more rescues."

Her only reply was a snort from Alan.

Scott put down his glass. "Well, we had better clean up the mess before Dad sees it," he said. He looked at Tin-Tin. "Perhaps you would care to help."

Tin-Tin took a step back and raised her hands in protest. "No way, I'm only having a break while your father and Brains go over the latest test results. I have work to do too, you know." She hesitated. "Still, I would like to see what The Mole looks like at the moment. I guess I can give you a few minutes help."

The Mole's bay looked like a bomb had hit it. Parts of The Mole had been dismantled for routine maintenance, and were lying about the place. A tacky pool of orange paint lay congealing on the floor, except where Gordons' trousers had wiped it up. The Moles caterpillar tracks were splattered in orange paint and a trail of oil stretched out behind it. A network of oily and painted footprints wandered throughout the carnage.

Tin-Tin pulled up short. "If your father sees this, he'll..."

"Kill you?" a voice behind her asked. Jeff Tracy stood there fuming. "Brains and I've just been through the test results of the new fire extinguisher and it isn't performing as well as we'd hoped. So I thought 'at least the mechanical side of things is running smoothly, I'll just pop down and see how things are going,' and what do I see? Mayhem!"

The four Tracy boys stood about looking sheepish. Tin-Tin slipped quietly out the door and went back to her work in the lab.

Brains was looking nearly as testy as Jeff had been. "I-I don't understand it," he muttered. "All my calculations are correct. The extinguisher should be working to plan."

Tin-Tin walked up behind him. "So now what do we do, Brains?" she asked. "Start again?"

Brains turned to her. "N-no," he stammered. "We will conduct the tests again and compare results. W-we should be able to reach some helpful conclusions then."

Tin-Tin sighed and opened a thick volume of notes. "Experiment One," she read out. "Method: Take 400ml of 5SFJ..."

Teresa and Mitch were becoming more and more frantic. "Where can she be?" Teresa exclaimed. "We've searched everywhere. I can't even find Everest!"

"Calm down, luv." Mitch fought back his own mounting panic. "Maybe she's walked to a friend's place. You ring up everyone you can think of and I'll cruise around the neighbourhood in the car. She's probably just hiding someplace."

Teresa grabbed his arm. "You don't suppose she heard us arguing, do you? You know how sensitive she is."

Mitch clapped his hand to his head. "Oh, no," he moaned. "She probably thought we were going to kill each other. Oh Teresa, I'm sorry, it's my fault."

It was Teresa's turn to calm him. "Now, we don't know that that's the reason. She may have just decided to go for a walk and got lost. I'll starting ringing round and you go look for her."

Mitch left for the car, a cold knot in his stomach. This morning he'd been moaning that things couldn't get any worse. How wrong he'd been.

Cassie had clambered through the hedge at the bottom of their garden, dragging Everest behind her. The garden backed onto a walkway and she followed it downhill. She'd read about fairy lanes that lead to kind people who helped others in need. Perhaps she could find a good fairy that could make her Mummy and Daddy happy again.

What she found was a grubby, industrial estate. A collection of old wooden warehouses, some in use, others derelict. Surely fairyland wasn't like this. Some stories told of towns of trolls that stood between human land and fairyland. Cassie didn't want to meet a troll, so she started running through the complex, hiding whenever she heard voices.

She wished she could find a good fairy, or a pixie even. She had seen pictures of pixies with silver and blue clothes and funny shaped hats. They looked different to humans, but were kind and helpful. "Would you like to meet a pixie?" she asked Everest. Everest gazed back at her with his mute button eyes. She gave him a hug. "Don't be frightened, I'm sure a pixie will find us soon." The familiar feel of his fur reassured her and she continued on her journey.

Blake stood in the shadows, a wisp of smoke rising from his illicit cigarette. He was joined by one of his work mates, Edwards.

"If the boss finds you, you'll be for the chop," Edwards warned him. "You know it's illegal to smoke in the work place."

Blake looked at him through narrowed eyes. "What do I care about the law?" he muttered. "I care even less about the boss. I'd tell him what to do with his stinking job first."

There was a movement around the corner of the building. "Blake, Edwards, where are you? If you don't get your butts back here this minute, you'll be out."

Blake flicked the remainder of his cigarette behind some barrels. "Oh, well," he drawled as he sauntered out from his hiding place. "I'd nearly finished it anyway."

AM Radio

"You are listening to radio 3AM. And now, a short weather report. Today is going to be hot, hot, hot. The met. office predicts highs of 40 degrees Celsius, that's over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. There'll be a hot, dry Westerly gusting up to 30 kilometres an hour, or for you imperialists out there, that's about 18 miles per hour. So there is a total fire ban and we should be grateful that smoking is now illegal. And now for something cooler, it's a remake of that ABBA classic, 'Summer Night City'..."

The cigarette smouldered and slowly consumed itself. The smattering of wood shavings it had come to rest on blackened, and burst into flame. The fire flickered, died back, met with a leak from an oil drum, and burst into new life. The drum exploded with a flash of blue smoke.

Upon hearing the explosion, Blake, Edwards and The Boss rushed back to the rear of the warehouse.

"What the... How did that start?" The Boss quickly assumed control. "Blake, get the fire extinguisher. Edwards! Alert the others and call the fire brigade."

The old wooden warehouse's wall was fully ablaze by the time Blake arrived back with the fire extinguisher. He attempted to use it but was driven back by the heat and the smoke. "It's no good," he gasped. "I may as well be using a water pistol."

The fire brigade arrived in a flurry of noise. Sirens wailing and brakes squealing, the workmen were urged back and the fire -fighters took over the battle. Edwards grabbed Blake by the arm. "You know what caused that? It was your damned cigarette. If anyone finds out..."

Blake turned on Edwards, his fist held menacingly in front of his colleagues face. "No one had better find out, if you know what's good for you."

Edwards held up a reassuring hand. "Don't worry, I wont squeal, it's just that with today's forensic techniques, I understand that the cops can tell what starts a fire , and if the boss puts two and two together."

Blake gave a crooked smile. "No problem then. We just say that we saw a tramp lurking around the buildings and it must have been him who started it. It also gives us an excuse why we were there."

Edwards clapped him on the back. "You're a genius. Come on, we'd better join the others." They moved off to the assembly point on the road.

Unknown to them, The Boss stepped out from the shadows behind where they had been standing, a knowing smile on his face.

"So," he muttered. "That's your little game, is it? I've had my eyes on you for a long time Blake, and now I've got you!"

Frank Holmes was idly tapping away at his computer console. It was another boring day at the boring office. He had never known life at 'Merton and Co.' to be exciting and today was proving to be no exception. The computer he was looking at was boring, his desk was boring and the cheap wooden walls of the communal office were boring. He often thought that the only thing that saved the outside of the building from being totally boring was the ivy that clung tenuously to its wall. But even the ivy was beginning to wilt in the heat. 'Probably bored too,' Frank thought.

The explosion outside his window was the first sign that just maybe today wasn't another boring day. He and his workmates clustered in the window to see what had happened.

A murmur of voices around him speculated on the cause of the fire .

"It sounded like a bomb."

"Don't be silly. Who'd want to bomb that place?"

"Well, it's an eyesore."

"Could've been some welding equipment."

"Yeah, or a spark off something electrical."

Frank offered his thoughts to all and sundry. "Wish someone would put a bomb under this place. Then maybe they'd rebuild it in a more modern style."

Someone else laughed. "Nah, they'd just rebuild out of what was left over from when they built this place and Old Merton would slip the inspector a few hundred quid."

"Old Merton's a fool," someone else added. "This place is a fire trap. If that fire starts to get too close, I'm outta here."

"The fire 'll never get that close," Frank drawled. "That gully between us it too wide."

Startled by the noise and smoke, Cassie ran into the nearest building. It was a large wooden warehouse filled with barrels. Cassie wasn't to know it, but each barrel was filled with a deadly mixture of fuels, which had been stored illegally. "...Until we arrange a more suitable place to store them."

Cassie held Everest close to her and hid behind one of the barrels. She could hear shouting voices outside and thought that the trolls were after her.

A figure appeared in the door and she shrank further back into the shadows.

"If it reaches this lot," a voice said, "she'll go sky high."

"Nah," another voice said. "It's too far away and the wind's blowing the wrong direction."

They walked back into the sunlight and Cassie heard the door shut and the sound of a lock click.

Fearful, she remained hidden for a few moments and then crept out from her hiding place. The room was dark and smelly and she wandered cautiously over to the door, dragging Everest in the dust behind her.

The door was shut, she was trapped.

She sat down and started to cry.

Outside, the fire had already consumed two buildings and was devouring a third. The fire chief reported back to his base. "It's no good, we can't contain it. We need more back-up."

The reply was not very reassuring. "Can't help you, I'm afraid. All other units have been diverted to other hot spots. It's all this hot, dry weather. Fire s are springing up everywhere."

The industrial estate backed onto a gully. The gully contained a thin trickle of brackish ooze, filled as it was with numerous unmentionable items. In short there was a fire break of such proportions that the fire brigade felt it unnecessary to evacuate the office buildings on the other side. The employees of Merton and Co. were therefore unprepared for what happened next.

A fire ball erupted from a warehouse and hurled itself at the company's building. The roof exploded into flame that rushed down the ivy-covered walls and into the tinder dry grass below. In less than five seconds all exits were blocked off by a wall of flame.

The fire chief was back on the radio. "This thing's just blown up in our faces," he yelled down the line. "We need back up and we need it now!"

The disembodied voice at the other end of the call listened sympathetically but was unable to give any reassurances. "Sorry, there are no further available units. You'll have to affect a rescue yourselves."

"But there're over 20 people trapped in there and my men are all tied up containing the fire . There's no way we can get those people out in one piece. The building's an inferno."

"We'll, I'm afraid we can't help, unless..."

The fire chief was willing to accept any ideas, no matter how daft they sounded. "What?"

"Do you think it's bad enough to call in International Rescue?"

"Bad enough? Get onto 'em straight away. They're those people in that building's only hope." As he replaced the radio handset a thought came to him. "I hope they get here in time," he mused.

John Tracy was enjoying another quite day in space about Thunderbird Five. The babble of voices was having a soporific effect as he trained his telescope on a distant nebula.

"Calling International Rescue, calling International Rescue," a strange voice broke into his reverie.

He grabbed his microphone. "This is International Rescue. What can we do for you?"

The fire controller relayed his message about the people of Merton and Co. "...So you see, without your help, those people don't stand a chance."

"Right," agreed John, briefly reflecting on the number of times he had heard those words. "Leave it with me and we'll see what we can do." He quickly opened the channel to his home base.

Back at Tracy Island, Jeff was frowning at his word processor. He had an important business letter to write, but the appropriate phraseology refused to come to mind. He reflected that the worries about 5SFJ and The Mole were affecting him. An urgent beeping sound interrupted his train of thought and he raised his eyes to the row of portraits of his sons. John's eyes were flashing at him. A flick of the switch and a concealed microphone rose from his desk. John's portrait disappeared and Jeff smiled at the video image of his most distant son.

"This one requires all speed, Father," he reported. "We haven't much time..."

Jeff turned to Scott who had just entered the room. "Get moving," he said. "John can brief you when you're airborne."

Scott had grasped the two wall lamps even before his father had finished speaking. His reply of "F.A.B.," disappeared with him into the wall.

In response to an alarm activated by Jeff, the others entered the room.

"Virgil, take pod five. You'll need the 'Fire fly' and the 'Squirt'. There should also be plenty of fire blankets and oxygen hoods stored in the pod."

"That's right, Mr. Tracy," Tin-Tin affirmed. "I checked it yesterday."

Virgil moved over to a painting of a rocket and stood with his back to it. As it tipped backwards and he slid down the chute he continued to hear his father giving instructions.

"Gordon, you go with him. Tin-Tin, we are going to need all the man power we've got for this one. You go too and man the Mobile Control. That will leave Scott free to assist with the rescue. Alan, you'll have to stay here." He noted that his youngest son was about to protest. "You're due to relieve John in the Space Station in a few hours. Brains, you had better go with the others too. You may get the opportunity to field test 5SFJ."

Brains rushed off to load a few shells onto Thunderbird Two's cargo chute. He then joined Gordon and Tin-Tin on the passenger elevator.

Outside, there was a roar as Thunderbird One rose up through the swimming pool, skyward. Scott's portrait disappeared and his video image, now clad in International Rescue's distinctive uniform, appeared in its place. "Thunderbird One - switching to horizontal flight," he announced.

Virgil's face appeared along side that of his brother. "Everyone's aboard, he stated. "Request clearance to launch."

His father double-checked the radar. "F.A.B."

Fifteen minutes later, the great bulk of Thunderbird Two landed beside it's sister ship.

The great green transporter reared up on its legs and the flap of Pod Five slowly swung down to the ground. Scott raced on board and met up with his colleagues. He swiftly donned his protective suit as he updated them on the rescue situation. Leaving Tin-Tin in charge of the Mobile Control, they climbed into one of Brains' latest inventions. The 'Squirt' emerged from Pod Five like an ugly ducking emerging from beneath its mothers protective wing, and waddled over to where the door of Merton and Co. should have been.

The building was a shell of fire . It was hoped that the fire resistant lining of the building had done its job, but all communications had been knocked out. Until someone entered the building, there was no way of knowing.

Scott looked from the wall of flame to the blueprint of the building that he had obtained from the fire chief. "If my calculations are correct, we should be able to enter here," he said.

Brains took charge of the 'Squirt'. At the push of a button, a circle of one hundred nozzles emerged from the front of the machine. Another button push and they all tilted so that they focused on the building at one point where the door should have been. A flick of a switch and each nozzle ejected a stream of Dicetyline at the same point on the door.

Scott, Virgil and Gordon moved into the forward section of the 'Squirt' and sealed the fire proof door behind them.

Slowly, the nozzles each directed their stream away from the central point. Gradually, a circle of fire -free building emerged, big enough at first for a hand, then a torso, then a man, and then several men. The doors of the building were visible, blackened but now free of fire .

Scott, Virgil and Gordon had all donned their protective suits, silver with blue trim. They strapped oxygen cylinders to their backs and connected them to their hoods, which had a wide, square mask to enable them to see. Scott always felt as if he were inside a T.V. set looking out when he wore this headgear. He tested his radio by giving Tin-Tin the instruction, "Release Satellite One."

Tin-Tin pressed a button on Mobile Control. A soft whirring sound heralded the arrival of Satellite One. A small, round dish, like an inverted soup plate flew gracefully from inside Thunderbird Two's pod, its miniature jets keeping it on course. On a screen on Mobile Control, a map of the surrounding area appeared as the tiny craft sent back an image of the surrounding topography.

"Satellite One launched," Tin-Tin announced.

"F.A.B.," Scott acknowledged. "Activating locator beacon now." He pressed a button on his suit and the tiny satellite locked onto his signal and hovered above his position. Back on the map, in front of the building, a blue dot appeared. Another display kept a record of Scott's vital signs. All were normal, although they displayed the slightly heightened rhythms of excitement.

Both Virgil and Gordon repeated the procedure and at first a yellow and then an orange indicator appeared on Mobile Control's display.

As the 'Squirt' continued to keep the flames at bay, Scott activated the mechanism which opened the forward hatch and the three men stepped out into a dark, hazy world.

Scott spoke. "Right, Tin-Tin, where do we go from here?"

Tin-Tin scanned the map in front of her. The internal walls of "Merton & Co." were now visible, as were the positions of those trapped inside.

As well as the three colour coded dots that represented her colleagues, the display showed, more ominously, the fire 's progress. At the moment, the red glow on the screen told her that the fire was a distance away from the victims, but there was no room for any complacency.

"Okay," she said. "You are clear to go through the doors. Gordon - To your immediate right, there looks to be an opening. There are two victims in that room." The orange dot moved away from the others, into the building and turned right. High above the building, a satellite followed the same course. "Virgil - if you continue straight down the hall, you should find someone at the end."

Virgil responded with a cheerful, "F.A.B.," and the yellow dot moved forward. Above, a satellite followed the same route.

"Scott - There is a room to your left, but I can't make out an entrance. Once you find it there is one person in the room, they appear to be against the far wall." The blue dot entered the building and slowly edged along the left wall. The remaining satellite tracked along the same course and then moved to the left. Scott had found the door and was making his way around the desks to the victim.

Gordon was the first to reach his objective. Reassuringly, the person was very much alive. He grabbed at Gordon's protective suit. "Help me!" he gasped.

Reaching into a pocket in the leg of his suit, Gordon pulled out two items. The first was a hood that fitted easily over the man's head. After ensuring that there were no gaps for smoke to enter, Gordon switched on the oxygen supply. A small cylinder attached to the hood started to emit its precious gas.

The man relaxed as he realised that he could once again breathe normally. Seeing the man regain his strength, Gordon gave him the second item.

"Here," he said. "Wrap this fire blanket around you, and wait here until I return. There's someone else I've got to see to." He began to search amongst the clutter of desks and chairs. "Gordon to Mobile Control, can you get me a fix on the next person please?"

Tin-Tin studied the screen. "Move 3 feet towards 9 o-clock."

Gordon moved off at an angle and found his target partly hidden under a desk. He quickly applied the hood and the man recovered enough strength to enable him to walk with some assistance and Gordon looped an arm around him and guided back towards the door. They met up with the first man who was by now nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

"Can we go now?" he asked plaintively.

Gordon smiled at him through his mask. "Let's get going."

The hallway was even more densely filled with smoke. One of Gordon's charges walked into Scott, who was also on his way back to the 'Squirt' with his victim.

Scott steadied himself and noted the condition of the three men who had been rescued. "Tell you what, I'll take your two with me, and you can carry on. Sounds like there're a few more upstairs."

"Right-Oh," Gordon agreed and gestured for his charges to follow his brother. He then turned and headed in the opposite direction.

"Mobile Control from Gordon, where to now?"

Tin-Tin examined the control screen. "There appears to be at least 10 people trapped in a room upstairs. There's a stairwell just to your right. Once you reach the top, keep going straight ahead. Virgil's already tending to the only victim on the east side of the building. The fire is in the far eastern corner and so far no one is in immediate danger from the flames. The smoke must be getting thick though."

"I'll say." Gordon had reached the top of the stairs. "I can't see the walls, let alone the door. Ah, here it is." He turned the handle and squeezed himself through the door frame quickly, shutting the door tightly behind him.

One thing that Old Man Merton fortunately hadn't skimped on were smoke doors, and the air in the room was relatively clear. Relatively in that it was possible to see the people huddled by the window on the far side of the room, a window that was impossible to open and made of break resistant glass.

Gordon appraised the scene. "Tin-Tin, tell Scott to bring up more hoods and blankets when he comes. I don't think we are going to have enough."

"F.A.B."

The orange dot started to move again.

Mitch pulled back into the driveway and sat for a moment in the car. Wanting to hurry inside but frightened of what he'd find. He realised that he'd been gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had gone white. He gingerly unhooked his fingers from the wheel and massaged them as he walked towards the house.

Teresa looked up, her expression of hopeful expectation falling into one of abject despair as she realised that Mitch was alone. He put his arms around her and gave her a comforting hug. "I'll go ring the police," he said.

The 'All Points Bulletin' went out. Those at the fire only took a passing interest in the call for the missing girl. They were having enough problems trying to keep the roads clear and sightseers away. As far as the general public was concerned, an inferno was exciting enough, but any opportunity to catch a glimpse of International Rescue and their fantastic machines, wasn't to be missed.

Scott had joined Gordon in the upstairs room. "Where's Virgil?" he asked.

"Last I heard, he was rescuing someone from one of the other rooms," Gordon replied. "He should have finished by now. You organise this lot and I'll go see if our exit is still clear."

He had just reached the door when an explosion rocked the building. Whipping off his glove, he pressed the back of his hand to the door. The door was hot, a sure sign that the fire was travelling down the hallway. It also meant that their only exit was blocked off.

"Gordon to Mobile Control, the fire 's spread. Any other available exits?"

The red glow on the screen had engulfed the eastern side of the building and the upstairs hallway. Only the western side of the building was free from flame, for now.

"Mobile Control to Virgil and Brains, we have a problem."

Virgil was helping his victim out of the 'Squirt' when he received the message. He handed his charge over to a waiting ambulance and spoke into his microphone. "What's wrong, Tin-Tin?"

"Gordon and Scott are trapped with 12 others in an upstairs room. The fire has spread to the rest of the building. Their exit has been blocked off!"

Virgil acknowledged the call and gathering his thoughts, returned to Brains in the 'Squirt'.

Brains had already shut down the flow of Dicetyline and had closed all the hatches in the fire -fighting machine.

Virgil announced his arrival with a question. "Well Brains, what do we do now?"

"I-It looks as though the only w-way to reach them is through one of the windows."

"With a laser gun?"

"Y-yes, that would be quickest and safest." Together they examined a plan of the building. Brains tapped the screen, pointing to a symbol. "This window sh-should be ideal."

Brains reversed the machine a few feet and then trundled around to the west side of the building. Deftly manoeuvring the vehicle so that it faced the wall, he turned to his colleague. "W-We're in position," he said.

Virgil scrambled into a cage that sat on top of the 'Squirt'. Once inside, he pushed a button and the cage, attached to a hydraulic arm, rose up into the air. He expertly guided the crane up until it was level with the window. Moving the crane arm forward, he peered through the window. Those trapped inside were huddled together, all wearing International Rescue's protective hoods and wrapped in shiny fire blankets, looking, for all the world, like potatoes waiting to be cooked. Satisfied that the victims were, for the moment, safe, he fire d up a laser gun and started to cut through the toughened glass.

Scott, seeing the activity outside the window, sought to reassure those about him. "It won't be long now, that laser will cut through in two minutes."

Frank Holmes spoke up, saying what everyone felt. "It can't be soon enough for me."

Scott began to arrange a plan of exit. "The crane can manage six passengers at a time, the rest of us will have to wait. Do you want a vote on who goes first or do you want us to make the decision?"

Ignoring the flames that flicked around the edge of the building, Virgil concentrated on cutting a circle that was big enough for a large man to climb through. He also had to ensure that the edges weren't too sharp for bare flesh and that the base of the hole wasn't so high that people couldn't climb out. No good having an escape route if you couldn't use it.

The smoke had begun to thicken in the room, so thick that the captives were barely able to see the door, and all they could see of the window was a bright beam of light from Virgil's laser. As he turned to look back at where the door was, Scott noticed a flicker of light as the fire broke through. He had no time to reflect on the gravity of the situation as a clang alerted him to the fact that their escape route had been completed.

As usual, he took control of the situation. "Right, where's our first group? The rest of you stand over there so that the exit isn't blocked."

In the time honoured tradition of 'women and children first,' the five women, and in the absence of any children, one of the older men, were the first to board, helped through the hole by Virgil.

Scott fancied he could feel the heat penetrating the back of his protective suit as he tried to keep the remaining captives attention away from the approaching menace. The crane lowered slowly back out of sight and Scott glanced through the open window to see how things were progressing. The former captives, especially the man, seemed to take forever to disembark and he found himself willing those who had escaped, off the 'Squirt'.

It seemed like hours later when Virgils' face once again appeared at the window. Just then Frank noticed the encroaching fire . "We're going to die" he screamed and dove through the hole in the window, knocking Virgil sideways.

Virgil grasped at the frame work of the cage, his reflexes preventing him from falling over the edge. He turned to Frank, and resisting an impulse to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, said "Just calm down, you're alright now."

Scott and Gordon were trying to keep the rest of the captives calm and help them through the window, not an easy job after Frank's outburst, as the remaining victims were well and truly spooked. One of them tripped as he clambered frantically through the hole and skidded across the deck. Virgil made a grab for him to stop him from sliding off the edge.

At last they were all on board, all except Scott and Gordon.

"Will you guys be all right? I haven't got room for you, too!" Virgil asked, a frown of concern on his face."

Scott gave him a tight smile. "Yeah, these suits should protect us, and if things get too hot, we can stand on the window ledge."

"Okay," Virgil acknowledged. "See you soon." He pushed the button marked 'down' on the control panel and the rescue arm started its slow descent.

Gordon looked at Scott. "Well, brother, this is one hot spot we're in."

Scott laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "If things get too hot, we can always jump."

Gordon poked his head through the hole and looked down. He made a face. "No, thanks!"

In the room behind them, a desk by the door burst into flame. A tongue of fire licked its way along the wall and began to consume another desk.

The temperature began to build. Below them, Virgil tried to escort his charges off the cage, but those rescued were in such a hurry that all they succeeded in doing was getting in each others way. He looked up desperately and his stomach knotted when he saw the farthest pane of glass begin to bulge outwards. The pressure behind it was enormous. Dragging his eyes away, he concentrated on getting the last of his passengers out of the cage.

Scott and Gordon had also noticed the build up in pressure.

"Time to put your plan into action," Gordon shouted above the roar of the flames.

"What? You're not planning to jump?" Scott was flabbergasted.

"No, of course not. But I think we'd be safer on the ledge." Gordon swung his body out onto the window ledge and crouched down, keeping his head below the level of the window. His older brother followed suit.

The last of the captives had disembarked from the cage. Virgil frantically pressed the button marked "UP". With agonising slowness, a hiss of hydraulics and a shudder, the cage started to lift again.

The window exploded.

A shower of glass flew out over the creek, turning into a million fairy lights, as it reflected off the flames, the setting sun and the flashing lights of the rescue vehicles.

Virgil turned and ducked to avoid the flying shrapnel. Watching fire men ran for protection behind their vehicles.

The explosion seemed to set off a chain reaction. The next window expanded and exploded sending a hail of glass even further.

Scott looked at Gordon. "Time for plan B," he said.

Gordon looked at Scott and then at the cage rising below them. He looked back at Scott. "Right," he said defiantly.

The next window exploded.

Scott and Gordon took a deep breath and jumped.

FM Radio

"You are still listening to radio 12FM. As night falls, I can see the glow from the fire in the industrial estate. Police reports say that at least 5 buildings are alight. The good news is that the 17 employees of 'Merton and Co' who were trapped in the fire are free. Unfortunately, two members of International Rescue are still trapped in the building. Another of their organisation is trying to get them out now. In other news, a five year old girl has gone missing in the same area. Cassie Mountain has brown braids, is wearing a pink dress and is probably carrying a teddy bear. Any sightings, please call the police immediately..."

It was a leap of faith.

The cage jarred to a halt under the sudden, combined weight of both men. Virgil, surprised by his brothers' sudden arrival, reached up and switched the machine into reverse. Through the hole in the window he had cut minutes earlier, a jet of flame leapt out. The heat was clearly felt through their protective clothing. He turned to his two brothers. "Nice of you to drop in."

The 'Squirt' trundled back to the waiting Pod of Thunderbird Two, three satellites hovering above it. Fire appliances rushed in to extinguish the fire in what was left of Merton & Co.

Tin-Tin, believing that their job was over, was about to shut down Mobile Control when she glanced for one last time at the screen. The picture had changed to include some of the old warehouses.

"That's strange," she mused as her eye caught sight of a familiar dot on the screen. "I thought they had cleared everyone out of those buildings."

She called the fire chief over. "There's someone in that warehouse over there," she pointed out.

He squinted through the smoke to see who she meant. "Can't be, my men checked in there before. Who would be fool enough to walk into a wooden building that close to a fire ?"

Tin-Tin indicated the dot on her screen. "Well, our instruments are saying someone's there."

The fire chief sighed, "I guess you know your business. I'll send someone over to check it out." He beckoned to some of his men.

More voices, more noise. What was happening? The trolls were back to get her and they sounded mean. Where could she hide? Finding an empty drum, Cassie climbed inside. A beam of light swept past her. Voices echoed throughout the room.

"We've already searched here!"

"The Boss says International Rescue reckons there's someone in here."

"Who'd want to be in here? It's dark and smelly..."

A light rested on the label of one of the drums. "...and dangerous. I'll bet this place doesn't have a licence to house this stuff. Most of it's explosive. If the fire gets here, we won't be able to put it out for a week."

"Any sign of anyone?"

"Nah, let's get out of here. I want to see International Rescue's faces when we tell them their equipment isn't working."

"Don't knock 'em. I wouldn't have wanted to rescue that lot from Merton & Co..." The voices merged with the surrounding noises.

Cassie waited until she was sure the trolls had gone, and then she climbed out of the barrel and looked around.

The door was open, she could see daylight. She ran towards the door.

The International Rescue team was clustered around Mobile Control. Scott was seated, frowning at the control panel.

"I don't understand it; we've never had any problems before. What do you think Brains?"

Brain took off his glasses and scratched the bridge of his nose. "W-With any device there is always a c-chance of failure. I ran the diagnostic check just before this mission and e-everything seemed a o-ok. How did it handle, T-Tin-Tin?"

Tin-Tin smiled reassuringly. "Like a dream," she said.

The fire chief shuffled his feet, embarrassed. "We've searched the entire building twice and didn't find a soul. Are you sure it couldn't have been an animal of some description?"

"The s-satellite is tuned into the heart rate, temperature, b-breathing rate and pheromones of humans, as well as..."

Scott interrupted him. "What my friend is trying to say, is that it is highly unlikely."

"Look." Gordon pointed at the screen. "It's moving."

The dot was making its way towards the door.

The fire chief scratched his head in bewilderment. "Well, I'll be..."

With out knowing why, Virgil grasped his hood firmly, took out a fire blanket and checked his pockets for the spare hood and oxygen cylinder.

The fire behind the building grew in size. Sparks flew in all directions.

A nearby radio crackled into life. "We can't hold her."

A flash of flame and a silhouette appeared at the door. Virgil didn't have time to think. He raced over to where he had seen the silhouette. In the same motion, he wrapped a fire blanket around the figure and pushed it away from the inferno. An explosion from within the building picked them up and threw them sprawling onto the ground. He instinctively used his own body to protect the other's as a shower of debris fell on top of them.

All he could hear was the roar of the fire and a strange, wailing sound.

All he could see was fire and black smoke.

All he could feel was the heat from the fire and the weight of the debris pressing down on them.

Then, miraculously, the fire seemed to lift and he found that he was in an air pocket surrounded by a wall of fire. A sheet of flame roared just feet above his head.

He became aware of a voice yelling in his ears.

"Virgil, can you hear me? Virgil, come in please!"

He cleared his throat. It was dry from the smoke and sudden exertion. "It's okay, Scott, I'm all right."

Scott breathed a sigh of relief and spoke into the microphone again. "That's great. What about the other person?"

The other person? Virgil pulled a spare hood and oxygen cylinder from his pocket, lifted the fire blanket and looked at the tiny figure beside him.

"It's a girl!"

"A what?"

As he pulled the hood over the frightened girl's head and attached the oxygen cylinder with difficulty,Virgil explained.

"A girl. She can't be more than five or six."

The fire chief started. "Hold on, I heard a report of a missing child. Didn't take much notice because of all this..." he waved his arms, indicating the surrounding confusion. "The police will know more."

Scott spoke again into the microphone. "See if you can find out who she is."

Virgil had already thought of that and he waited till she had finished coughing before he asked her the question.

"Cassie Marie Mountain," was the reply.

The Police Chief had arrived just in time to hear the announcement. "That's her," he nodded. "Her parents are worried sick. Seems she heard them arguing and ran away."

Scott needed to find more details. "What's the situation, Virg?" he asked. "All we can see is the fire ."

Virgil paused to analyse the situation. "We're in a fire pocket. I can't see any more than that. I don't know where the exit is. We're lying on the ground. My leg is on hers and there's debris on top of that." He pulled at his leg experimentally. "I could probably get free, but I don't have the leverage to free her too. If I get my leg out, the full weight of the debris will be on her." He described their predicament in one short sentence. "We're stuck!"

Upon hearing the doorbell, Mitch ran down the hall. He shuddered when he saw the policeman standing there and heard Teresa, behind him, gasp.

"Mr. & Mrs. Mountain?" Mitch nodded dumbly. "I have some news about your daughter. If you will come with me, I will explain in the car."

Cassie started to cry. "Where's Everest?" she whimpered.

Virgil felt a surge of alarm. Surely there wasn't someone else in there.

"Who's Everest?" he inquired tentatively.

"My teddy bear."

Virgil became aware of something soft lying partly beneath him. He pulled it out and Everest's button eyes stared back at him, still shiny despite the soot and grime that coated him. He felt in a pocket and managed to pull out a hood and two fire blankets. He pulled the hood over the bears head until the button eyes stared at him through the visor. Everest's feet were still poking out the bottom of the hood so he wrapped one of the blankets around the furry legs. Trussed up like a Sunday roast, the fire wouldn't be able to burn him. He gave Everest to Cassie and the little girl pulled her toy under the blanket and held him close.

Virgil then took the remaining fire blanket and laid it over the little form lying beside him. Taking care not to put too much weight on her tiny body, he carefully tucked the blanket around her, ensuring there were no gaps for the heat or fire to sneak through. The hood had fit over her shoulders, and halfway down her arms. "Probably just as well, if she panics she won't be able to wave her arms about." He tucked the blanket around her neck to ensure a good seal.

"Keep her talking, keep her calm". Out loud he said ,"Cassie, why have you called him Everest?"

Cassie looked at him, her face tiny in the great window of the hood. "'Cos I was a baby when I got him, and Daddy said he was a big Mountain, 'cos that's our name, so Mummy called him Everest, 'cos he was bigger than me." She started to cry again. "I want Mummy and Daddy."

Virgil tried to soothe her. "I know, honey. I've got some friends who are trying to get us out so you can see your Mummy and Daddy." He didn't add that he wouldn't mind seeing his 'Daddy' at that moment.

"So that's the situation, Dad." Scott was reporting back to base. "Brains is trying to come up with the best way to get them out. There's too much debris about to use the 'Firefly.' We'd risk dragging it onto Virg and Cassie. He had thought of using 5SFJ but as well as freezing everything, it would remove all the oxygen in the surrounding area, and he couldn't take the chance that it would starve Virgil and Cassie of oxygen as well."

Jeff Tracy was well aware of the drawbacks of 5SFJ. It was the reason why he'd been so 'het up' earlier in the day. "You're in charge, Scott. Don't take any unnecessary risks. Just remember that there is a frightened little girl in there as well as your brother."

Scott gave a wry smile. "Don't worry, Dad. Cassie's parents have just arrived, and they won't let us forget. I'll report back shortly...out." He turned to the frightened couple standing behind him. "Mr. & Mrs. Mountain? We're doing all we can to save your daughter."

"All" didn't seem to be much to Mitch and Teresa. There appeared to be no activity going on, just an earnest young man trying to reassure them, and another group in a huddle off to one side.

"H-how is she?" Mitch found it a struggle to articulate the words clearly.

Scott smiled back reassuringly. "She seems fine. I won't say that she is safe, because she isn't, but one of our top operatives is with her, and he'd risk his life to save hers."

"And I'm as worried as you are," he thought to himself. "That operative is my brother!" He turned back to the microphone. "Virgil, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Tell Cassie her parents are here, and they're looking forward to seeing her."

Teresa grabbed his shoulder. "And tell her there's a big bowl of chocolate ice cream waiting for her when she gets home."

Virgil relayed the message and was rewarded with a smile. "Is chocolate ice cream your favourite?" he asked.

"Mmn, yes, with lots and lots of choclit chips and choclit sauce."

Virgil gasped in mock astonishment. "My, you'd get sick on that lot."

Cassie frowned. "I wish I had some ice cream now," she said crossly. "I'm hot."

"Me too," said Virgil as he felt a trickle of sweat run down the side of his face. "That ice cream sounds mighty good right now."

Cassie examined the strange figure beside her. He was in a silver suit with blue and yellow trim and certainly had a funny hat on. He seemed nice enough and magically knew that she liked chocolate ice cream. "Are you a pixie?" she asked.

Virgil was surprised by the question. "Am I a what?" he repeated.

Cassie explained. "Pixies wear silver clothes and they are nice people, who help others, and they like ice cream, and they can fly, and they live in a different place where no one else can visit." She paused to take a breath. The flames flickered orange in her visor.

Put like that, Virgil agreed with her. "I guess you could call me a pixie. But you can call me Virgil."

Only able to hear Virgil's side of the conversation, Scott turned to Gordon who was now standing beside him. "D'you think he's okay?" He asked worriedly.

Mitch laughed tightly. "Cassie is mad keen on pixie's and fairies and the like. My guess is, your friend is trying to cheer her up. She'll be over the moon if she thinks she's found a real pixie."

The one sided conversation continued over the speaker. "Of course, I'm not the only pixie. I have a lot of pixie friends who are trying to help you."

Scott frowned. "If Alan hears that we've been called pixies, we'll never hear the end of it. He won't stop laughing for days."

"We'll just have to remind him that he's a pixie too," Gordon told him. "C'mon 'Pixie Scott,' we'd like your okay of this plan."

Scott laughed and followed him over to the others. Tin-Tin took his place at Mobile Control.

"T-The way I see it..." Brains formulated his plan as quickly and clearly as he was able, "...w-we are going to have to put the fire out around them before we can see them, l-let alone rescue them. Virgil's satellite w-will give us an idea of w-where they are but until we get in there, w-we won't know what equipment we will need to carry them out. The girl may be more badly hurt than we think and that debris could be blocking a-all exits."

Scott was getting impatient. "Okay, so what do we do?"

"Y-you take Thunderbird Two and hover over the danger zone. We'll r-redirect the Dicetyline from the storage tanks to the vertical extinguishers. By directing a measure of Dicetyline over the area, w-we might be able to put the fire out. G-Gordon and I can then drive in, in the 'Squirt', and pull them out."

Scott thought it over quickly. "Sounds feasible and I can't think of a better alternative. Gordon, you tell Tin-Tin to alert Dad about what we're up to and I'll go get Thunderbird Two ready." He started to hurry back towards where the great green transporter squatted in the car park.

Twelve drums sat in the warehouse, an image of a fire and the word "EXPLOSIVE" stencilled on their sides. Fingers of fire played around the drums, caressing them one moment, holding back the next. The temperature around the drums grew. The paint blistered, and still the temperature rose.

The explosion caught everyone by surprise. People dove for cover as the ground shook. The noise was heard blocks away. Dogs started howling. Burning lumps of timber were fired outwards like missiles. A nearby stand of bush started burning when a spark landed in it. The fire brigade converged on it quickly and had the fire out within seconds. There was general confusion as ambulance services rushed to the aid of those who had not been able to avoid the debris.

A charred bit of metal fell out of the sky, landed in front of Mobile Control and rolled on the ground, spinning like a top until it came to rest. It looked like no more than a burned plate. Gordon walked over to it, donning his protective gloves as he did so. He picked the plate up. He could feel the heat from the object reflecting on his face. Although badly charred, he was still able to make out the characters "S-2" and the badge of International Rescue. He turned to the others.

"It's Virgil's Satellite," he said glumly.

Scott had turned back when he'd heard the explosion. "That means we can't communicate with him, and we can't pinpoint their exact position."

"It might mean more than that!" Gordon pointed out morosely.

But Scott wouldn't listen to such talk. "We can't think like that. Chances are, they're all right, it just means that we can't reassure them."

Brains had an idea. "I c-could reconfigure one of the other satellites to Virgil's f-frequency. But it would take some time."

"Great," said Scott. "You make a start with that and I'll continue on with our plan." He yelled over to Tin-Tin as he headed back towards Thunderbird Two. "I'll radio as soon as I'm airborne."

Jeff Tracy felt a cold grip take hold of his heart as Tin-Tin relayed the news back to base. She was trying to smile bravely but Jeff could tell that she was feeling as scared and helpless as he was.

"Scott's in Thunderbird Two now, Mr Tracy, and Gordon's standing by in the 'Squirt'. Brains is going to go in with him, but at the moment, he's trying to reconfigure Alan's satellite."

"That's great, Tin-Tin. Just keep me informed. And keep positive. Virgil's not a quitter, he'll be all right."

As Tin-Tin's face disappeared from the screen, Jeff turned to his mother, who was standing beside him. "Oh, Jeff, what if something's happened to him?"

He gathered his mother's hands in his. "Nothing's happened to him," he told her firmly. "We must believe that. We know he was all right before, so all that may have happened is the satellite was destroyed by the explosion. It may not have gotten near them."

"It's the waiting I can't stand, Alan stated. "It's not being able to do anything to help them, just waiting for some news."

"It's all we can do now." Jeff accepted a cup of coffee from Kyrano. "Keep calm and wait."

Alan thought for a moment and then turned to his father. "Dad, if it's all right with you, I won't take Thunderbird Three to relieve John until after this is over. At least if I stay here, I can think that I can help in some way."

Jeff digested his son's words and then nodded his agreement. There was nothing that anyone on the island could do, but he could understand Alan's sentiments. They could only wait, and hope.

Television

"Good Evening, this is Network News. I'm Judy Long. Tonight's main story: A fire in a local industrial estate has trapped two people. One, a member of International Rescue, the other, a five year old girl.

The fire which has extensively damaged 6 buildings was discovered late this afternoon. International Rescue had been called in to rescue 17 people trapped in the offices of "Merton & Co."

It appears that the young girl, Cassie Marie Mountain, had run away from home and was hiding in one of the warehouses when she was trapped by the fire. One of International Rescue's operatives went in to save her and has also been trapped. Last reports were that both were well, but we have information to hand that another explosion has cut all communication between those trapped and the rescuers. Police are as of yet unsure of what caused the blaze.

These pre-recorded pictures show flames leaping at least 600 feet high. We are unable to bring you live pictures as one of International Rescue's vehicles is trying to put out the blaze. This station respects International Rescue's request for privacy and will bring you no further footage of this rescue..."

A languid hand waved through the beam, turning the TV off. She turned to her butler standing beside her. He was the first to speak.

"Lumme, M'lady, which one do you think h'it h'is?"

"I don't know, Parker, but Mr.Tracy must be very worried at the moment. I'll give him a call. The least we can offer him is moral support." She took the teapot he was holding. Twisting the knob on the top, she spoke to the teapot. "England calling International Rescue..."

Jeff Tracy looked up at the beeping sound. His first glance was toward the five portraits of his sons, but their eyes remained blank in their identical frames. He then turned toward the portrait of Lady Penelope. The beads were flashing in time with the beeps. "Come in, Penny."

"Jeff, I just heard the news." Lady Penelope paused, unsure of how to phrase her next question. Jeff answered it for her.

"It's Virgil." He filled her in with all the details as he knew them.

"I know it's not much comfort, but if Parker and I can be of any help, you won't hesitate to call, will you, Jeff?"

"Thanks, Penny. It helps to know that you're there if needed."

Scott hovered in Thunderbird Two above a towering pillar of fire. The undercarriage of the great plane reflected orange in the flames. "This is going to be tricky," he muttered to himself. He reached for the switch marked 'vertical extinguishers.'

A fine spray of Dicetyline emitted from Thunderbird Two's undercarriage. It coated the scene below it in a fine, white mist. The fire shrank back from the white assault.

Scott carefully lowered Thunderbird Two into the channel that he had created. Flames still leapt past the craft's wings, but below him, where it mattered, the fire was subsiding.

Tin-Tin grabbed the microphone. "It's working!" she exclaimed to Brains and Gordon. "Stand by to go in!"

"F.A.B., just give us the word," was Gordon's reply.

Closer and closer to the top of the building, if it was still there, sank Thunderbird Two. Too low and the craft's vertical jets would nullify the effect of the Dicetyline, too high and the Dicetyline would not be able to do its work.

It required the skills of an experienced pilot, skills that Scott was sure he had. But he was used to the feather-light controls of Thunderbird One, controls that he was able to use instinctively. In comparison, Thunderbird Two felt heavy and sluggish. "Virgil would have found this job a piece of cake," he reflected.

Time ticked by. The fire seemed to have found its second wind and was resisting all efforts to stifle it. "I can't give up," Scott thought, "but I'm only wasting precious time and Dicetyline here." He voiced his thoughts to Tin-Tin at Mobile Control. "I'm coming in to land. It's not doing any good."

Tin-Tin sounded disappointed. "F.A.B., Scott. I'll alert the others."

Why was the rescue taking so long? It seemed as if they'd been lying there for hours. The explosion had stunned them, until Cassie had started screaming again. It was only then that Virgil had found his voice and tried to radio the others. But there had been no reply. "Perhaps they're hurt?" Virgil thought "Maybe there's nobody left to help us." He quickly dismissed that thought as being silly and dragged his attention back to the little girl beside him.

Cassie had stopped screaming, but her breathing seemed strange. Her eyes, as big as saucers, transmitted the fear that she was no longer able to articulate. She was breathing faster than she was before, and her chest heaved as she gasped for air.

"She's hyperventilating!" Virgil knew that the human body needed a certain amount of carbon dioxide to live, and that when the CO2 levels became low, the instinctive reaction was to breathe harder and faster until the patient blacked out. Panic had brought on her hyperventilation, which had been exacerbated by the very thing that was saving her life. Her oxygen cylinder had been designed for only short periods of use and contained little carbon dioxide. The time honoured method of treatment was to hold a paper bag over the patient's face. This was, of course, impractical at the moment. He knew that his own oxygen supply had been designed for longer use and contained a more balanced mixture of gases, but that wouldn't help her.

He did the only thing he could. He turned off her oxygen supply, speaking to her as he did so. "It's alright, Cassie. Calm down. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise, and pixies keep their promises, don't they?"

She nodded and slowly her breathing returned to normal. Virgil turned her oxygen supply back on.

That little crisis over, he began to take stock of their situation. The explosion had hurled more debris around them and over them. One particularly big hunk of timber had landed across his hip. He had no doubt that he would have a large, angry bruise there for days to come. He didn't think that he could have received worse injuries.

The fire had crept closer. He could feel its heat through his protective armour. He was grateful that he had put the extra fire blanket over Cassie earlier. She was going to need more protection now. Looking up, and flames and smoke jostled for his attention above their heads. He estimated the inferno was about three feet away.

Looking back at Cassie, another thought crept into his mind. A few moments ago, too much oxygen had been a problem, but what would happen when they ran out. He only had one small, spare cylinder, if he could reach it. He would give it to Cassie when she needed it. It didn't occur to him to use it himself if his own supply ran out.

He tried to estimate how much air he would have left. He'd used the same cylinder during his rescues at "Merton & Co.," which had taken about an hour. There was about three hours worth of air in a fully filled cylinder. How long had he been trapped here?

Why did he do this job? Why did he risk his neck for other people that he would probably never see again? Apart from Eddie Houseman, and those incidents with the monorail, every person he'd rescued had been a total stranger, someone he'd no emotional ties with. And yet he'd persisted in flying a great green plane, that physical logic suggested had no right to fly, out to risk life and limb to help some person he didn't even know.

He let his thoughts drift even further, back to the island, back to fresh air, sunshine, palm trees...his family.

He remembered the first time he had flown Thunderbird Two. When he'd disembarked, he'd slapped Brains on the back. "She handles like a dream, Brains." And Brains, the brilliant inventor of the craft, had blushed and looked downwards shyly.

He remembered the good times he and his brothers had had together. Sure, there had been arguments, but by and large they had gotten on well. Despite the age differences, they had always played together, inventing their own games, forming bonds, establishing roles that were serving them well in their present occupation.

He could picture his father, feel the security of being by his fathers side. Feel the warm glow of contentment as his father praised him for achieving something new. "Look Dad, I painted this picture."

"That's great, son. I'm really proud of you."

His memory went back even further, to when he last saw his mother. He hadn't thought about her for a long time. He tried to remember what she looked like. He knew he and his mother had a lot in common. "Well Mom, perhaps we'll be together soon."

The thought startled him. "What am I doing? I'm not ready to die. I'm certainly not going to let Cassie die. She wants to see her mother too, and her father. I'm going to make sure that we both get to see our parents again."

He tried to think of what he could talk to her about. He'd had little experience in what five year old girls were interested in. He'd never had an interest in dolls except the mannequins he and his brothers practised life saving techniques on. What else did little girls like? Painting? Music? It was worth a try.

Scott slammed his fist into his palm in frustration. "What else can we do, Brains?"

Brains raised his head from the portable computer where he working on some unfathomable equations. "W-we can try 5SFJ."

Gordon was aghast. "5SFJ! But Brains, you've said it yourself, that stuff's too dangerous to use in this situation."

Brains blinked at him owlishly through his blue rimmed glasses. "That's true, if we, ah, release the formula in the general vicinity of V-Virgil and the girl. B-But if we use 'Firefly' to fire a capsule of 5SFJ into the two wings of the w-warehouse, we can extinguish much of the fire and concentrate our efforts on the d-danger zone." He indicated the computer. "I-I've calculated how much 5SFJ we will require and the precise position it needs to be f-fired into."

Scott looked doubtful. "I don't know, Brains, it's a big risk. D'you think it'll work?"

"A-At the moment, I can see no other c-course of action. Our o-only other option is to let the fire burn itself out," was the reply.

Scott sighed. "By which time it might be too late. We've got no other choice, and we're wasting time standing 'round here talking. Brains, you make up as many capsules of 5SFJ as you think we will need. Gordon and I'll go and transfer the remaining Dicetyline from Thunderbird Two to the 'Squirt'."

Tin-Tin informed Jeff Tracy of the next plan of action. He wasn't impressed.

"Are they sure they know what they're doing? We both know the effects of that stuff."

Tin-Tin tried to reassure him. "We've exhausted all other options, Mr Tracy, and Brains thinks that as long as we fire it into the right area, it should be all right."

Jeff took a breath to calm his nerves. "Okay, Brains is in a better position to assess the effectiveness of this than I am. If he thinks it will work, we had better try it. What does Scott think of this course of action?"

Tin-Tin had to be honest. "I got the impression that he wasn't totally happy with it either. But, like you, he is willing to accept Brains' judgement."

"Tell the boys, good luck. We're with them all the way."

"F.A.B., Mr.Tracy."

Cassie's air supply was almost extinguished. With stiff fingers, Virgil replaced the spent cartridge with a fresh one. He spoke reassuringly to her when he had finished.

"There, that's done. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, but Everest is getting hot!"

Virgil chuckled. "I'm afraid Everest is going to have to stay hot until we get out of here. You were telling me about what you do at school."

Cassie brightened up. "We play games. I like playing games. My favourite is 'touch tap'." She proceeded to explain how you play the game. Virgil pretended to understand all the rules by exclaiming in what he hoped were the appropriate places. It was very hard to hear her voice above the roar of the flames. And to be fair, Cassie's instructions weren't exactly clear.

When he assumed that she had finished her explanation he said, "Well, that sounds like fun. My brothers and I will have to play that sometime."

"Do you have brothers?"

"That's torn it," he thought. "I'd better not give too much away now." Aloud he said, "Yes, I have."

"And sisters?"

"No." Seeking to turn the conversation away from himself, he asked her, "Would you like any brothers or sisters?"

Cassie pondered this question for a while before she answered. "If he was like Everest, or a pixie like you, yes, I would like a brother. But not if he's like Tanya's brother." She then started to tell Virgil about her friend's brother who always teased them.

Scott had finished explaining to the fire chief, his department's part in the plan. "So, when we give the signal, you move your men in as fast as possible."

The fire chief almost saluted his understanding. "My men are in position and are awaiting your instructions. Which side are you going to take out first?"

Brains had joined them by now, so Scott let him answer this question. "W-We'll attack the north end and then t-the south.

"I m-must emphasise though how important it is for y-your men to stay back, until we give the s-signal."

The fire chief nodded gravely. "I understand."

Tin-Tin was manning the Mobile Control. Gordon was waiting in the 'Squirt.' He was joined by Scott. "All set?" he asked.

"Yep, now we just have to wait for Brains' signal." He reached for the radio. "Tin-Tin, can you read me?"

"Strength five, Scott."

"How about you, Brains?"

"L-loud and clear."

"Right, we'll keep this channel open. I want to hear every command."

"F.A.B."

"F.A.B."

"In you go, Brains, and good luck."

"T-thanks, Scott."

The 'Firefly' rumbled forth from the bowels of pod Five. Brains consulted his notes. "Now for the north end," he said to himself. "I've got to load shell one for this end, just enough 5SFJ to extinguish the fire in this wing. I'm lined up correctly, double check. Yes, that's right. Cannon set at the correct angle. Check!"

Gordon, listening on the open channel, hit the mute button so that his words wouldn't be transmitted. "I don't get it," he said to Scott. "When he talks to us, he's stuttering all over the place. Now that he's muttering to himself, his speech is perfect."

"I guess he's concentrating so hard that he forgets about his shyness," Scott theorised. Gordon flicked the switch on the mute button again, just as Brains spoke into the radio. "'F-Firefly' r-ready."

It was the message Scott had been waiting for. "Fire cannon!"

They weren't prepared for the roar as the shell hit. A fireball rose 900 feet into the air.

Scott's mouth went dry. "What have we done?"

Teresa clung to Mitch crying. "Are they trying to kill them?"

There was a yell from Brains over the radio. "It worked! Send the fire appliances in!"

Tin-Tin gave the signal to the fire chief, who gave the order to his men. Fire trucks moved in and started to play water onto the blackened shell of what was left of the north part of the building.

Inside the north end of the building it was freezing cold. The 5SFJ had expanded, expelling the oxygen outwards and upwards. It was as though someone had blown out a giant candle. It had then frozen everything inside the building so the fire couldn't take hold again. The water from the fire brigade helped to stop the fire in the central part of the building from thawing out the north end and re-igniting the remaining wood.

Brains turned the 'Firefly' southwards to repeat his task. The second explosion, while just as loud as the first, didn't surprise them as much. Time for the 'Squirt' to move in. Gordon engaged the motors.

What was happening? first an explosion to the left of them, and then one to the right. Was it the centre, and them, next? Cassie was screaming hysterically again. She had managed to free an arm, which she was flailing about. Virgil was hit several times before he managed to pin her arm down. He tried to talk to her to calm her, but she couldn't hear his voice above the roar that was getting louder every moment. He froze. He knew that sound. He strained to look through the inferno toward the source of the noise.

Gordon pointed at a gauge. "We're getting low on Dicetyline."

Scott frowned. "I shouldn't have used so much with Thunderbird Two. We're going to be limited to one attempt."

"We're just going to have to make it count then." Gordon squared his jaw stubbornly and concentrated on his job at hand.

Ahead of them, the flames parted. "Look!" Scott pointed, incredulous. "There's a clear path." He nudged his brother. "Let's go."

Donning their protective hoods, the pair ran out of the safety of the 'Squirt' and into the unknown. Scott carried a jack and Gordon a Dicetyline sprinkler.

There was no fire, no smoke, just welcome, cool, darkness. Virgil knew what that meant. "We're here!" he yelled. "International Rescue, we're here!"

Scott paused "Did you hear that? It's Virgil. C'mon!" They continued on blindly.

Miraculously, the fire and smoke lifted and there lying under a pile of debris, were the objects of Scott and Gordon's quest.

As he rushed toward Cassie, Gordon slammed the Dicetyline sprinkler into the ground and a spray of its contents gushed forth, cooling everything it touched.

Scott was by his brother's side. "How're you, Virg?" he asked.

"All the better for seeing you guys."

With the help of the jack, Gordon and Scott were able to quickly release Virgil and Cassie from their prison. Gordon scooped Cassie up and ran back down the Dicetyline corridor. Virgil found himself half carried and half dragged by Scott, in the same direction.

The fire wasn't willing to give up its prize that easily. One last untouched pile of barrels succumbed to the heat. The explosion equalled that caused by the 5SFJ.

The 'Squirt' was driven backwards with the force of the shock. Debris flew out over the assembled onlookers. The silver hull of Thunderbird One trembled with the shockwaves and a tattoo of debris rained against Thunderbird Two's fuselage.

Teresa and Mitch held their breath. Brains rose up from where he had crouched behind Mobile Control and surveyed the scene before him. Tin-Tin reached for the communication switch, fingers shaking.

"Mobile Control to the 'Squirt,' do you read me? Scott, Gordon, are you there?"

"The 'Squirt' to Mobile Control, all passengers safely aboard. Be with you in a couple of minutes. Tell Cassie's parents she's okay. Virgil's fine too."

Teresa and Mitch laughed and hugged each other in pure relief. As the 'Squirt' reversed out of the conflagration, other members of the various rescue organisations clustered around Brains and Tin-Tin, congratulating them.

As if realising that the game was over, the fire died down and the framework of the building glistened blackly in the lights as the fire squad moved in to extinguish remaining hot spots.

As Scott stopped the 'Squirt', Gordon opened the exterior door and removed the last fire blanket from around Cassie. He picked her up, and as he turned to take her outside, he kicked something. A silver bundle rolled under the cot she had been lying on. "C'mon, Cassie," he said. "Let's go see your parents."

Her face lit up. "Mummy and Daddy?" she exclaimed.

Scott walked over to Virgil. "You feel up to meeting the Mountains?"

Virgil looked at him. "Yeah, well, I guess if the Mountains won't come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the Mountains."

Scott made a face. "If you're making puns like that, you must be okay!"

Virgil stood up and then fell to the floor with a yell of pain.

Scott quickly crouched beside him, his face creased with concern. "You're hurt!"

Virgil managed a wry smile. "Not really. It's just that having that lump of wood on my leg so long...my leg's gone to sleep. It's just waking up and I've got a king sized case of pins and needles." He noticed the silver bundle under the cot. "Hey, she's forgotten Everest." He pointed to where the bear was lying and Scott retrieved it for him.

Looking at Everest's button eyes staring at him through the hood, Virgil suddenly felt a wave of emotions wash over him. He buried his face in his hands to try to control the memories and emotions. Fear, relief and tiredness jumbled up inside of him and tried to come to the surface. He hadn't felt this exhausted in a long time. Scott sat beside Virgil and put his arm around him in a brotherly hug. They stayed that way for a moment until Virgil gave a sigh and gingerly flexed his legs. He seemed to be debating as to whether to say something. Finally he spoke.

"You know, while I was in there, and it was getting hotter, and noisier, and I'd lost communication with you guys, I nearly gave up, totally. I started wondering why I'm in the rescue business. Why I'd risked my neck." He nodded toward the open door. They could see Cassie excitedly talking with her parents, eyes shining. They were all holding hands, creating a ring that no disaster could break. "That's the reason why I'm in this business." He looked back at Scott. "I wouldn't change a thing in my life."

Scott, surprised by this speech, was unsure of what to say, but nodded in understanding. "It must have been pretty rough," he said eventually.

Virgil gave a sudden smile and stood up, leaning on Scott's shoulder as he did so. "C'mon, Big Brother. We've got to give Everest back."

They stepped outside the 'Squirt' and Virgil was hit by what seemed to be a flying embrace and a kiss on the cheek. He gave Tin-Tin a squeeze in return and said, "That magazine was right. Our female members are pretty sexy."

Tin-Tin blushed and lightly hit him on the shoulder. "Oh, Virgil," she scolded.

Virgil took Brains' hand and shook it warmly. "I guess I owe you guys a great big thank you."

They walked over to the family reunion. The ring of Mountains broke and Mitch took a step back as Virgil handed the silver bundle to Cassie. "Here's someone who's missing you."

"Everest!" Cassie excitedly removed her toy from his protective layer and hugged him. "Thank you, Pixie Virgil."

Virgil was aware that his brothers were stifling some laughter behind him and decided that he had better make some introductions. "Cassie, I would like you to meet some friends of mine. This is Brains, and Tin-Tin and Pixie Scott and Pixie Gordon. They were the one's who saved us."

Cassie's eyes grew round. "Wow, more pixies! Thank you, Pixies." She looked at Tin-Tin. "Are you a fairy?"

Tin-Tin gave a light laugh, mainly at Scott and Gordon's embarrassment. "No, I'm just a friend of the pixies."

Mitch grabbed Virgil's hand and pumped it vigorously. "Cassie has already said it, but I want to add my thanks, too."

Teresa, giving Virgil a kiss of thanks, added, "If only there was some way we could repay you. You risked your life to save our daughter." She looked at Cassie and the look was all the repayment Virgil needed.

"Just remember," he gave her a wink as he spoke, "that we pixies are secretive folk." He crouched down beside Cassie, tapped her on the nose and made her giggle. "We don't tell everyone our names, just special people. So, now we have to make you an honorary pixie, and you have to promise not to tell anyone else what we are called."

Cassie gave a solemn nod. "I promise," she said. Her face split into a wide grin and she threw her arms around Virgil. "Thank you, Pixie Virgil."

Internet

Welcome to the International Rescue Web Page. A privately maintained page dedicated to the good works of International Rescue. The author has no links to International Rescue, and has no idea of International Rescue's identity or location of their base. I am therefore unable to pass any messages onto International Rescue.

To find out more about any rescue, click on that event's title.

Cassie Mountain - Warehouse fire

Thompson Tower - fire

Sunprobe - space rescue

Fire Flash - sabotage...

The cursor highlighted Cassie Mountain - Warehouse fire, and a click changed the screen.

CASSIE MOUNTAIN - WAREHOUSE FIRE

Young Cassie Mountain recently celebrated her 6th birthday with a 'Pixie Party'. Rumour has it that Cassie's pixie costume was modeled on a certain organisation's rescue uniform. She appears to have suffered no lasting effects from her time trapped in the warehouse, but is sticking close to her family and friends.

Now washed and deodorised, her teddy bear, 'Everest,' has once again become her constant companion. He even sits beside her at school, where by all accounts, she is doing remarkably well.

Cassie's mother, Teresa, tells us that Cassie still regularly talks about the 'pixies' who saved her life. Teresa also says that every day she offers a silent prayer of thanks to those who rescued her daughter.

Mitch, Cassie's dad, was offered several jobs after the families plight was reported in the national media. He has accepted one that includes on-going training. In his words, "I'm not going to let anything stand in the way of my family's future, and continuing education will ensure that I am a good prospect in the work force, should the need arise."

The culprits of the whole affair were found to be two labourers who were caught smoking while at work. One has been fined $100,000 and jailed for 2 years. The other was fined $50,000. Needless to say, both have lost their jobs.

The company that risked Cassie's life by illegally storing the barrels of dangerous materials has been fined $10 million and had their licence revoked. $1 million of the costs have been awarded to Cassie and her family and will be held in trust for her.

The management of 'Merton & Co.' were fined $500,000 for disregarding building regulations and not ensuring adequate fire safety equipment and exits. The official who approved the building has been suspended from his job pending further inquiries.

As for the member of International Rescue who spent so long trapped with Cassie in that inferno, we only know that he walked away from the event apparently unscathed.

We can only be amazed and thankful that no one was seriously hurt.

As Teresa says, "I can't thank International Rescue enough. There were times when I doubted that even they could rescue my daughter. But they did it.

"This is a group of people who unflinchingly risk their lives to help others, and expect no repayment in return. Even when one of their own was in danger, they kept cool heads and worked, not only with the thought of rescuing their colleague, but also Cassie."

Mitch adds, "If more people were as unselfish as International Rescue, there would be less need for their services. The guys who started the fire, for instance. If they had obeyed the law, they wouldn't have risked Cassie's life, and the lives of all of the rescue personnel who took part. And they wouldn't have had to pay such a high price."

Virgil turned off the computer and sat back, his hands folded behind his head. All the members of International Rescue regularly accessed this Internet site after rescues. He wondered idly if the unknown author realised that International Rescue used this resource to find out how things had turned out for those they'd helped.

He looked out the window to where his family and friends were enjoying the fresh air. Palm trees swayed in the breeze and the sun shimmered on the Pacific Ocean. It was a beautiful day and he reached for his towel in readiness for a swim.

"Yes," he reflected as he headed towards the pool. "It's good to be alive and it's good to be a member of International Rescue!"