A FRIEND IN NEED by QUILLER RATED FRC

When plans for Thunderbird One are stolen, Jeff needs help to retrieve them. My account of how Lady Penelope became a member of International Rescue.

Author's Notes: At the start of 'Trapped in the sky', Lady Penelope is already the London agent for International Rescue, and the Hood knows about the organisation, even though they have not yet become operational. How did this come about?

This story is my answer to that question. I know there is another version in the TV21 comic strip, but not everyone has seen that, and there are some inconsistencies between that and the programme, so I have chosen to write my own. This story is set in the autumn of 2063, a couple of months after the end of my story Ordeal (though is not connected). All dates and ages taken from Chris Bentley's 'Complete Book of Thunderbirds'.

My thanks to Purupuss and Lady Viva for proofreading, and to Molly and Sapphire for their help with Candy's dialogue. As always, my thanks to Gerry Anderson and his team for creating the characters and my acknowledgement to the copyright owners for letting me play with them for a little while.

Chapter 1. The Watcher
Chapter 2. Auld Acquaintance
Chapter 3. The Hunt is On
Chapter 4. A Dangerous Game
Chapter 5. Penny Makes a Deal

1. The Watcher

It was a large, sprawling house, of the style built by the English in the early part of the twentieth century. The grounds surrounding it were extensive and well kept, and on this autumn evening there was nothing to be heard except the occasional bark of a dog and the far-off hum of traffic. It would have taken a keen observer to spot the man who stood concealed by the shrubbery at the edge of the lawn, positioned so he could see both the lights in one of the downstairs rooms and the car parked near the front door.

The Hood calculated he had been standing there for nearly three hours. But his goal was worth the time. Several years ago, when he learnt that his imbecilic half-brother would be living and working at the island retreat of multi-millionaire Jefferson Tracy, he had thought this would be an ideal opportunity for industrial espionage. He had long been able to tune in to his brother's mind, though he had to be careful to do it only when Kyrano was asleep - attempting to do so while his brother was awake once when they were children had rendered Kyrano unconscious. However, his attempts had proved fruitless, as, despite what was generally assumed, none of the company's research and development seemed to take place on the island. Lately though, Kyrano seemed to be aware of work on a new project - fantastic machines that were being constructed on the island itself, in a state of great secrecy. When the Hood had learnt that Tracy and his young scientist were making a trip to England this seemed an ideal opportunity to get his hands on some information even if it meant kidnapping one or both of them. With the secrets of such machines he could ask his own price from any government

Kyrano had supplied him with details of Tracy's flight to London, so he had been waiting at London airport when they touched down. Posing as a porter had enabled him to attach a tracking device to the hire car that Tracy was using, and he had followed them here to a house which his sources told him was owned by the English scientist, Sir Jeremy Hodge.

Inside the house, Brains had finished explaining the plans contained in the small laptop computer. "Are you s-sure you understand the sch-schematics, S-sir Jeremy?"

"What? Oh, yes, quite, dear boy," replied the Englishman, staring at the screen. "I must say this machine of yours is fantastic, utterly fantastic. I'm glad I know of your reputation, and that it will only be used for peaceful purposes. It would make a formidable weapon."

"That's one reason we wanted to bring it to you in person," answered Jeff in his gruff voice. "Now this laptop has been keyed to your thumbprint, only the three of us can switch it on, so it will be safe to leave with you while you work on it."

" Yes," said the professor, scanning the diagrams of the engine yet again. 'I'm sure my new fuel will be ideal for the engines of - what did you call it? 'Rescue One'?"

"That's correct," answered Brains. The Tracy boys had already started referring to the craft as Thunderbirds, but Brains had not quite come round to the new name yet. "If there are any adjustments we need to make then you can let us know."

Jeff rubbed the back of his neck, stifling a yawn. Jet-lag was starting to catch up with him. "If you two have finished for now I think we'll head back to our hotel. We'll be here for a couple of days on other Tracy Corporation business if you want to get in touch."

From the shadows, the Hood watched two figures emerge from the house and climb into the car. He noticed that the small case Tracy's assistant had been carrying when they arrived was no longer with him. "So, they have left something with the Englishman? Maybe this is my chance." He waited until the sound of the car engine had died away before approaching the house.

From his study, Sir Jeremy heard the front door-bell ring, then the footsteps of his housekeeper as she went to answer it. Perhaps Mr Tracy had left something behind and come back for it. When the door of his study opened, he looked up. His smile turned to a frown at the sight of the burly, dark-haired figure who stood in the doorway. "Who the devil are you?"

The Hood caught sight of the laptop on Sir Jeremy's desk. "Is this what Tracy left with you? Give it to me!"

"How dare you come barging in here like this! Mrs Anderson! Call the police!"

The Hood laughed, an evil, guttural sound. "Do not bother calling for your servant. She will not hear you. Now give me Tracy's computer!" As Sir Jeremy looked, the man's eyes seemed to glow. He found himself unable to look away. The room seemed to be spinning around, and with a small cry he fell forward over his desk into oblivion.

Chapter 2. Auld Acquaintance

"Are you sure you do not wish me to accompany you, my lady?"

"No thank you, Frobisher, I'll be fine." Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward looked at the elderly butler, standing stiffly formal, despite the fact he was still clad in pyjamas and dressing-gown. "You go back to bed and get some more rest," she said in a firm tone, though she was sure the old retainer would do no such thing. Frobisher had been in the family's service for more than forty years, and it was high time he retired. She had offered him and Mrs Frobisher a small cottage on the edge of the estate, but the couple would not consider retiring until a 'suitable replacement' could be found for them, and hiring new staff was just not very high on Penny's list of priorities.

The sun was just coming over the horizon as she entered the garage and climbed into her favourite Aston Martin. As she reversed out she glanced over at the large shape covered in dust-sheets at the other end of the garage. That was another item on the 'to do' list. The antique family Rolls-Royce had been sitting there ever since she had inherited the estate. She did not want to sell it, but it wasn't exactly her style. She had been tempted by the idea of having it sprayed in her favourite pink - an idea that would have made her father turn in his grave.

As the car reached the open road Penny pressed down hard on the accelerator. Sir Jeremy had sounded extremely agitated when he had called. She had worked with him in her days with MI5, and was rather fond of the old boy. He was one of the few people who knew that she was more than just the 'social butterfly' whose picture appeared so frequently in the society magazines.

"I'm most frightfully sorry about this, old chap. I can't think how that man came to overpower me." Sir Jeremy was telling Jeff for the umpteenth time. "It's not as if he had a gun or anything. He just looked at me with those strange eyes." He brightened up. "But I've called someone who should be able to help…"

Just then the doorbell rang, and a few minutes later Penny was shown into the room. Jeff was taken aback. This young woman looked the same age as his boys. Did the future of International Rescue rest with a mere slip of a girl?

Penny smiled and held out her hand. She had met this reaction before. In fact it usually worked in her favour, as most people could not see past the beautiful exterior to the razor-sharp mind it contained. "How do you do, Mr Tracy? I recognised you from your photographs in the business press. I understand poor Sir Jeremy has mislaid something that belongs to you. Don't worry, I have been able to retrieve things for him before when they have gone astray. Please give me all the details."

Jeff looked at Sir Jeremy, who nodded reassuringly. "I assure you that you can trust Lady Penelope implicitly."

Jeff indicated Brains. "My, er, associate here has developed plans for a new rocket plane. This is a private project, not connected with the Tracy Corporation. We brought the plans to Sir Jeremy because he was designing a new fuel for it. Last night someone broke in and stole the laptop with the plans on it. It is vital that these do not fall into the wrong hands and become used as a weapon." Jeff pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand in emphasis, trying to contain the tension that was building inside him.

Penny's brow wrinkled. "So this plane is not being built as a weapon, but could be used as one, and not being built for your company, or your government?" She looked puzzled. "So, what is its purpose then?"

Jeff hesitated, but Sir Jeremy intervened. "I can guarantee, Lady Penelope, that Mr Tracy's motives are genuine, though he may not want to go into them at this point. You can rest assured that by helping him you are not compromising your loyalty to King or country."

"Very well, Sir Jeremy, I shall take your word for it. I'd like to know I can still look King James in the eye next time I meet him." She looked at Jeff again. "I presume this need for secrecy is the reason that Sir Jeremy has sent for me, rather than calling the police?"

Jeff nodded. "That's right. As I said, this is a private project, and I don't want it to come to the attention of the authorities if I can help it. We are lucky that the laptop containing the plans is fitted with a homing device. Brains, here," he indicated the nervous looking young man in the thick spectacles sitting at the back of the room, "has a hand-held tracking device that can pick up the laptop if it is within five miles of us, but it is now out of range. We are assuming that the man who stole it has already left the country. We're trying to track it at the moment. I'm hoping for a call soon to tell me where it is, then Sir Jeremy thinks you will be able to retrieve it for us."

John sighed and rubbed his temples. Two hours ago he had been just about to turn in when his wristwatch had started buzzing. He had cursed mildly, thinking that one of his brothers must have forgotten (yet again!) that the NASA space station kept Houston time. However, one glance showed the situation to be much more serious. CHECK EMAIL URGENT read the message on the watch face.

The elaborate communications system that he and Brains had designed was still at the drawing-board stage and would not be complete until the new space station and its relays were in place, which would not be for another eighteen months or more. Meanwhile he had devised this simple message system, similar to the text messaging that had been common at the beginning of the century. It was usually sufficient to indicate that someone wanted to get in touch, and especially useful while he was on duty with NASA where all phone calls could be overheard.

John hurried down the corridor to the control room, thankful that the rest of his crew-mates seemed to have gone to bed. Switching on the computer he accessed his email.

'Plans for Scott's birthday present gone missing. Can you track? Frequency Grandma's birthdate'.

John frowned. His father had recently commented that the boys could consider the machines they were constructing to be their birthday presents for this year. John had known of his father's plans to travel to England to consult with a scientist friend of Brains over the design of the engines, and shuddered to think of such a powerful machine being used as a weapon. However he could not help but smile at the last part of the message. His grandmother's date of birth was possibly an even more closely guarded secret than the whole concept of International Rescue.

John had begun to work. Tracking the signal through various military and reconnaissance satellites was easy; the tricky part was doing so without leaving a trail. All this would be so much easier when he had his own satellite. He was quite looking forward to being able to spend a month at a time up there. He had always been something of a loner, though this could be hard in a family containing so many extroverts. He had even had Brains incorporate an astronomical dome on the top of the station. After all, if he was going to be so close to the stars, he might as well get a really good view.

"What we haven't told you yet, Lady Penelope, is how the plans came to be stolen. It really is most strange." Sir Jeremy then gave an account of the previous night's events.

When Penny heard the description of her friend's attacker she nodded. "I think I know of your assailant, Sir Jeremy."

"Who is he? Where can we find him?" cut in Jeff, his agitation still showing. He was obviously a man who preferred action to sitting around waiting.

Penny shook her head. "Nobody knows who he is, or even what he looks like. The face you saw, Sir Jeremy, was probably a mask. He wears many different ones. But a man of that size and build who can render an opponent unconscious by looking at him, is known to the police of various countries simply as the Hood. He is a mercenary, who wants only money and power. He will probably try to sell the plans of your machine to the highest bidder. Even these days there are some countries who do not like being under the control of the World Government."

Just then a beeping noise came from Jeff's watch. He raised it, then turned to Sir Jeremy. "May I use your computer again? I think we now have the information we were waiting for." At Sir Jeremy's nod, Jeff moved to the computer, then after a few minutes turned back to the occupants of the room. "It appears my laptop has just landed in Vienna."

Penny nodded. "Our thief will probably use that as a base while he contacts his potential customers." She turned to Jeff. "I assume this is where I come in?"

"Yes, please. If I were to turn up there, this 'Hood' character would probably make a run for it and we'd have to start all over again. However, he doesn't know you, so that gives you a chance. I'll pay any expenses, naturally, and whatever fee you think suitable."

Penny looked shocked. "Mr Tracy, a lady never discusses money!"

Jeff looked embarrassed. "Of course, my apologies. Now, are you going to need any help? I could ask one of my sons to come with you."

Penny shook her head. "No, thank you, Mr Tracy, I know where I can get all the help I will need for this job."

A few hours later, Penny stood outside the 'Blind Beggar' in Whitechapel. She knew of this pub's reputation, but she also knew it was the place she was most likely to find the person she was seeking. Taking a deep breath, she walked in and approached the bar.

"What'll it be, miss?" asked the barmaid.

Penny hesitated: this certainly did not look like the sort of place in which one would order a Pernod. "A gin and tonic, please," she said.

"'Allo, darlin'," said a voice behind her. She turned to see a burly man, unshaven, with tattoos on his arms.

She recoiled at the stench of his beer-laden breath. "I think you must be mistaking me for someone else," she said in a cool tone.

"C'mon luv, don't be like that! When I saw you come in, I said to meself, 'Jim, you can't let a slip of a thing like that walk around here on her tod, so I came over to look after you."

'Thank you, that was most kind," replied Penny, 'but I am quite capable of looking after myself."

'Maybe, but I'm sure we'd both have much more fun if I did the looking after." He put an arm round her shoulders as he leered at her. "I bet you and I could have a real good time."

Jim was never quite sure what happened after that. The room seemed to spin round and the next thing he knew, he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Conversation in the bar halted for a second, then resumed. Patrons of the Blind Beggar knew better than to involve themselves in someone else's business.

Penny turned back to the bar and paid for her drink. "Was yer ladyship lookin' for me, by h'any chance?" said a voice behind her. She spun round, then relaxed as she saw the craggy features of the man she had come here to find. "Yes, Mr Parker, I was looking for you. Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?"

Parker led the young woman over to a quiet corner. Keeping her voice low, Penny began, "I don't suppose I need to remind you of the promise you made last time we met?"

Parker shook his head. He had broken into the English home of an American millionaire, and had just managed to crack open the safe when he heard a small cough behind him. Spinning round, he saw the slight figure of a young woman sitting calmly in a wing-backed armchair.

"Well," she had said, "when Mr Presberger said I would find this weekend entertaining, I don't think this is quite what he had in mind, but I must say, it is always fascinating to watch a master craftsman at work."

"Are you goin' ter call the perlice?" asked Parker. He had expected the young woman to either scream, or run. This unexpected response left him confused.

The young woman bent forward and carefully picked up one of the tools he had been using, holding it between her fingertips by one end. "No, but I am going to offer you a deal. In my line of work I could sometimes use expertise like yours. Let me know where I can find you again, and I shall let you go - after you have replaced the money in that safe, of course. Meanwhile I shall keep this," she waved the tool, "which has your fingerprints on it, as surety."

Looking at the beautiful aristocrat now across the table, Parker shook his head. "No," he said, "I hadn't fergotten. I suppose this means you 'ave a job fer me?"

"That is correct, Mr Parker. How do you fancy the idea of a little foreign travel? They say it broadens the mind wonderfully."

Chapter 3. The Hunt is On

The hired car, fast but not flashy enough to draw attention to itself, sped along the autobahn with Parker behind the wheel.

"You don't mind acting as my chauffeur, do you, Mr. Parker?" queried Penny.

"Not h'at all, yer ladyship - in fact it would make me old Dad proud if 'e could see me now. 'E was in service, and me grandad too - 'e was butler to the old Lord Kinnaird. Me dad was training me to be a butler, but then I went into a different line of chauffering, h'as you might say - getaway driver for the Carter gang."

"Fascinating," replied Penny, filing the information away for future reference. "I know the present Lord Kinnaird quite well. What a small world."

Parker glanced in the mirror as he expertly overtook a container lorry. "Do we know where we are going, yer ladyship?"

Penny gave a small shake of her head. "Not precisely. Mr- er, Brains, has given me this device which can pinpoint the missing laptop to within a few feet, but the range is only a few miles. When we get to the edge of the city we can take the ring road and get bearings from different locations to see if we can get a better fix on it. When we do reach our destination, remember that I am Candace Wylene Hamilton, wife of Texan oil baron Garner T. Hamilton, so you had better address me as 'Madam', and, with your permission, I shall call you 'Parker'."

"That will be quite orl right, yer - er, madam." Parker glanced in the mirror again. He had been somewhat startled to be approached at London Airport by a young woman with bobbed red hair wearing a scarf wrapped round her head, winged sunglasses and an American drawl.

Penny sat back in her seat, tucking a stray strand of hair back beneath her scarf. She had pondered as to which of her alter egos to use and eventually decided on this one. Wanda might have drawn too much attention, and besides, dear Candy was such a chatterbox that she could easily draw information from strangers.

Up in his hotel room, the Hood's face contorted with rage. He picked up the laptop, toying with the idea of hurling it against the nearest wall and smashing it into a thousand pieces, but managed to restrain himself and set it down on the table again. He had been so bedazzled by the plans he had seen on the screen at the Englishman's house that he had failed to notice that the computer had a thumb lock. Had he realised in time, he would have brought Sir Jeremy with him - or at least brought his thumb. He knew such devices could be cracked, but such things took time and he had hoped to have something to show prospective clients. He knew it was only a matter of time before the might of the Tracy organisation would be after him, and he had wanted to conclude his business as soon as possible.

The Hood closed the computer and pushed it into the small safe that the room provided, giving the combination lock a savage twist. Somewhere in this city there must be a computer expert, one he would find through his contacts in the criminal fraternity and bring back here to unlock the secrets of this machine for him.

Penny examined the tracking device as the car pulled up in front of a large hotel. "Yes, Parker, this is definitely the one. The signal is showing very strongly. I thought our quarry would want to use somewhere grand to impress his potential customers." She pulled out a small piece of chewing gum and inserted it into her mouth, grimacing as she did so. "Ugh! How I hate the taste of this stuff! But one does have to stay in character."

Penny entered the palatial lobby through the ornate glass doors. As she did, she added a little extra swing to her hips and wiggled her way across the marble floor to the reception desk, much to the delight of the male guests present. Penny gave the girl behind the desk a great, big Miss-Texas-runner-up smile as she approached and drawled, "Excuse me, honey, but I believe you have a reservation for the name of Hamilton?...Candace Wylene Hamilton?"

The receptionist looked down her list, then glanced up, a puzzled expression on her face. "I am sorry, madam, we do not seem to have that name here."

Now it was Penny's turn to look puzzled. "Why, I'm sure my husband told me it was this hotel. He always makes reservations at the best hotel in town. You may have heard of him. Garner T. Hamilton? From Houston, Texas? He's one of the richest men in Texas, you know."

An older man, very elegantly dressed, who had been coming out of an office behind the reception area now stepped forward and spoke to the receptionist. "Please allow me to take over, Helga." He looked down the list again, then at Penny and smiled. "Apologies Gnädige Frau, my assistant here has just come on duty and has obviously missed the note. Of course we have your reservation. For one of our luxury suites, naturally."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest little ol' thing. Just call me Candy. All my friends do. I knew y'all could find my reservation." Penny smiled to herself. That particular form of flattery never failed. She turned to Parker. "You can bring in the luggage now." Parker touched his cap briefly and left.

As the lift doors opened on the lobby, The Hood saw hotel staff scurrying to bring in a mountain of luggage, presumably for the young American female whose loud drawling tones filled the air. He was halfway across the hall when one sentence caught his attention.

"Is the safe in my room large enough to take my jewellery case? My husband just pitches a fit if I don't lock up my jewellery every night." Penny produced a case specially selected before the trip because its dimensions were similar to those of the stolen laptop. That was another reason she had thought the Hood would choose an expensive hotel. He would not want to leave the laptop lying around, but nor would he want to draw attention to it by asking to put it in the manager's safe.

The Hood's ears pricked up. Jewels? Maybe he would be able to salvage something from this trip after all. He hesitated. He would like to know what room the woman had been given, but did not want to hang around so long that he drew attention to himself. Suddenly an idea struck him, and his hand went to his pocket. Yes! He still had a spare tracking device like the one he had put on Tracy's car the night before. The device was little more than a slim strip of metal, which could be easily attached to any object. While the manager was assuring the woman that the safe in her room would easily accommodate her jewels, The Hood moved towards the reception, his room key in his hand. As he got to the pile of suitcases he dropped the key. Bending to retrieve it, he stuck the tracker to the side of one of the cases. He handed his key to the receptionist with little more than a cursory glance at the American woman and her manservant, before leaving the hotel.

4. A Dangerous Game

"Could you h'oblige me with the loan of an 'airpin, yer ladyship?" Parker stood with one hand on the doorknob of the room that, according to the tracking device, contained the missing laptop. Penny passed him the required article, all the time scanning the hotel corridor for passers-by. Once inside the room, Parker quickly located the safe and began to lay out his tools.

"Do you think this will take you long?" Penny queried. They had already ascertained that the room was empty, but had no idea when its occupant would return.

Parker shook his head, scornfully. "A crib like this? I could crack one of these standin' on me 'ead."

Penny remained on look-out by the door, while Parker worked. After a few minutes he gave a little grunt of satisfaction as the safe door opened. Just then Penny heard footsteps approaching along the corridor, and a key was inserted into the lock. The door opened to reveal a burly man, who stopped in the doorway as he caught sight of Parker kneeling with his head in the safe.

The curse that came from his lips was cut short as Penny, standing behind the door, stepped forward and pressed a slim cylinder to his thick neck. "I'm sorry, honey," she murmured in her Texan drawl, "but there is no such thing as honour among thieves." There was a hiss, and the man collapsed unconscious to the floor.

Penny bent to feel his pulse then straightened up. "Quickly now, Parker. That hypodermic is good for an hour - a little souvenir from my last employers. I don't think we need worry about our friend here reporting the robbery, but we can't risk staying here just in case he recognises you. We'd better gather our things and check out of the hotel. I can contact Mr Tracy and have him arrange a rendezvous to collect his property."

Less than an hour later, Penny's car was speeding along the autobahn. Jeff had been delighted with the news. "My eldest son is on his way to meet you already. He's heading for a small private airstrip about 90km north of Vienna. He'll be on this frequency if you want to contact him when you get there."

Penny sat back in her seat, reflecting on the events of the past 24 hours. It brought back the excitement she had enjoyed in her old secret service days. Maybe she should think about getting back into something like that. She looked at the back of Parker's head. "Parker, when we get back to England, how would you feel about working for me on a permanent basis? I am in need of a new butler-cum-chauffeur, and might find a use for your 'other talents' as well."

Parker glanced at her in the rear-view mirror and opened his mouth to reply.

Just then there was a loud crack and the car swerved violently. "Blimey! " he exclaimed. "Someone just took a pot-shot at us!" He pressed hard on the accelerator and their car surged ahead.

Penny turned to look at the dark blue car that was pursuing them. "How inconsiderate! How am I going to explain bullet holes to the hire company?"

She recognised the figure from the hotel bedroom. The man must have the constitution of an ox to have recovered from the drug so quickly.

In the car behind, the Hood gripped the steering wheel with one hand as he aimed the gun again. When he had awoken, he had remembered the American woman's voice. So much for the rich millionaire - he now realised she must be working for some other government, out to steal the plans for nothing.

Luckily, the autobahn was deserted at that time of night, as Parker weaved back and forth across the lanes in an attempt to keep out of the way of the bullets coming from the car behind. As he did, Penny extracted a small pistol from her handbag and, winding down the window, leant out to return fire. Parker couldn't help but admire her coolness.

"The trouble is," said Penny, as she pulled herself back inside, "that when you're shooting from a car, you have to do so at an angle. Ideally, one could do with a car that could do the shooting itself." She paused, tucking in a strand of hair. "Then it wouldn't make such a terrible mess of one's coiffeur." She pulled out the small radio that Jeff had given her. "I think it might be time to call for reinforcements. "Hallo there," she said into the radio, conscious that it was not a secure line. "This is English Lady to eldest son. Come in, please."

The radio crackled, and a rich, deep voice answered. "Eldest son here. I'm just on my final approach to the airfield. Where are you?"

"We're on the autobahn, about 10km short of the turn-off, but we're having a spot of bother and wondered if you could help." Quickly she summarised the situation.

"OK, your ladyship, I'll be with you in a few minutes."

Parker continued his weaving and dodging, then suddenly the drone of an aircraft engine could be heard above them. Penny watched as the small blue light aircraft flew past to their left, made a steep turn then came in low, cutting between them and the pursuing car, causing it to swerve wildly.

"Cor!" exclaimed Parker. "'e can't 'alf fly that thing."

"The pilot must have nerves of steel," agreed Penny. "Look, he's coming round again." The plane had flown ahead of them, but now turned and came back. In a swift movement, it lifted over Penny's car and dropped almost to road level behind them in a deadly game of chicken.

The Hood suddenly found himself faced with oncoming death in the form of several tons of screaming metal heading towards him at over a hundred miles an hour. He pulled the steering wheel sharply, and the car veered off the road and down the embankment. The plane lifted into the air, turned again and flew over Penny's car, waggling its wings as it did so.

Just then, Parker saw the turn-off for the airfield and followed it. In a few minutes they were turning in through the gates, just as the small blue plane taxied to a stop at the end of the runway. Parker pulled up beside it.

The cockpit opened and a figure stepped out. "Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Scott Tracy."

Chapter 5. Penny Makes a Deal

As the plane took off, Penny stole a glance at the young man seated beside her. She had thought Jeff Tracy a handsome man, but his son took her breath away. Clear-cut features, dazzling blue eyes, an easy-going manner and the courage that she had just seen demonstrated made for a combination that would make any girl go weak at the knees.

The plane headed west while the early morning sun lifted over the horizon behind them, lighting the landscape with delicate shades of pink and gold.

"How pretty!" exclaimed Penny. "I do so love flying at this time of the morning, don't you?"

Scott grinned. "I love flying any time."

Penny turned to face him. "Of course, you're the one in the air force, aren't you?"

Scott nodded. "Yes, it always amazes me that someone would pay me for doing what I love. I've enjoyed my time in the air force and the skills I have learnt in dealing with people and assessing situations are going to come in handy."

Penny thought over some of the other information she had managed to collect on the Tracy family before leaving England. "How's your brother getting on? The one who was in the accident?"

Scott's expression tensed for a moment at what was still a painful memory. "Gordon's doing fine. He's back home now, and working hard to get his full strength back. He's hoping to pass his medical next month so he can get back into the WASPs - he'd like to do at least another year with them before Dad needs us all back home to begin operations. But I'm sure he'll do it - the kid's got determination."

"From what I've seen," replied Penny, "I'd say determination is a trait that all the Tracy family share." Scott smiled but said nothing.

Soon they were landing at a small airport to the south of London. The plane taxied up to a hangar that bore the Tracy company logo.

"My father is waiting for us at Sir Jeremy's house," Scott explained as they climbed into a waiting car. "Do you have time to come with me and deliver the laptop to him yourself? I'm sure he'd want to thank you personally for all you have done."

When they arrived at Sir Jeremy's, Penny and Scott climbed out of the car, but Parker remained inside. "If you don't mind, yer ladyship, I'll stay'ere and 'ave forty winks."

They were shown into Sir Jeremy's study to find him there with Jeff and Brains. Penny produced the laptop which Brains took and immediately started to open. After a few minutes he looked at Jeff, relief on his face. "The c-computer has remained secure. P-plans for Rescue One have not been accessed."

Jeff shook Penny's hand firmly. "You have no idea what this means to me, Lady Penelope. How can I repay you?"

Penny looked Jeff straight in the eye. "That will be quite easy, Mr Tracy. Yesterday I said I did not want to discuss my fee. Here it is. It's quite simple. I want 'in'."

"In? In on what?"

"In on your plans. I know your reputation, Jefferson Tracy. Your determination, your philanthropy, the way you are not afraid to try new ideas. I think you are putting together some sort of rescue service, one that will be independent of any government, and I want to be part of it. You have a craft under construction called Rescue One, which implies a Rescue Two, Three, and goodness knows how many others. These craft are obviously so radical in their design that other people, other governments want to steal their designs. You will need people like me to help preserve the secrecy of your designs, and of the organisation itself."

Jeff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He had been wondering if International Rescue might need a covert arm, to be their eyes and ears on the ground. He even had a few people in mind that he had intended to ask, but not quite in the way that this young Englishwoman was putting it. Her age too, that was another factor.

Penny watched his expression and guessed his thoughts as he looked her up and down. "And in case you are worrying about my tender years, I may be younger than your oldest son, but I am older than the rest of your boys, who, I gather, are also included in this venture. Let me help you, Jeff. I could put together a network of undercover agents, ready to help if things go wrong. You won't regret this decision."

Jeff had not become a multi-millionaire without knowing a good deal when he saw one. He extended his hand, smiling. "Welcome to International Rescue, Lady Penelope."

Penny smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Tracy. I'm sure we will enjoy working together."

"Most of our plans are still at the design stage, but when our communications network is ready I'll send Brains and one of my boys over to install the equipment in your house and link you to the network."

"That sounds fine. There are also a couple of other ideas I'd like to discuss with your designer as well - some modifications to the family car and a couple of improvements on gadgets I used when I worked for His Majesty." Penny found herself stifling a yawn. "Please excuse me. If you gentlemen don't mind, I will take my leave. I think the events of the past twenty-four hours are beginning to catch up with me."

"Of course, Lady Penelope," said Jeff with a smile. "Please use the car that is outside to take you home. We can easily arrange for someone from the company to collect it later.'

Parker saw the sophisticated young aristocrat emerge from the house and climbed out of the car to hold the passenger door open.

"Could you take me home, please, Parker? And on the journey we can discuss your terms of employment."

Parker grinned to himself. He had the feeling he was going to like working for his new employer. Judging from recent events it was certainly not going to be boring. "'ome h'it is, m'lady."