Things aren't exactly what they seem …
Jeff Tracy proclaimed to be a really good judge of character. After all, he chose Brains Hackenbacker his engineer for the fledgling company International Rescue.
However, he was having a hard time finding someone from another continent, just to let people see that, not only do they rescue people worldwide. But their company has agents worldwide too.
That is, until he received a frantic phone call from a Lord Hugh Creighton Ward. The man was beside himself with worry.
"Please, Mr Tracy," he begged, his rich baritone belied a slight quiver, "I need your assistance. I have tried everything. You are my last hope."
Jeff was surprised to hear from this British politician. He knew about the man's ambitions to run for Prime Minister some day, but to have the man contact him for assistance?
"Why, certainly Sir," Jeff replied amiably, "what can I help you with?"
"It's my daughter."
Jeff stiffened. Oh yes, the delightful Lady Penelope.
"I do hope you aren't planning on marrying her off to one of my boys," he chortled, hoping that this wasn't the case.
Hugh laughed nervously.
"Why no. But I do have a pressing issue though."
"I'm interested."
Hugh took a deep breath, and then rolled out the entire speech that he'd been working on for hours.
Penelope was a brat. Basically. She'd been kicked out of boarding school after boarding school, because she kept punching the teachers for telling her off. She'd dyed her hair so many colours that her father worried that one day it would fall out. And tattooed on the knuckles of one hand … the word BITCH.
He had to hire a specialist bodyguard to keep her out of trouble, and on his first day, she spat at him and tried to tackle him head on. Parker, being military trained, soon brought her down. But she still fought like a wildcat.
Her only saving grace was that she was a premium computer hacker and a walking information desk.
She didn't deserve the title of 'Lady' because she was far from it. International Rescue seemed to be the absolute last resort. If Jeff Tracy couldn't help, then nobody could, and he would have to kiss the title of Prime Minister, maybe even his cabinet post … goodbye.
Jeff paused, listening intently and nodded.
"I'll send a private jet over to bring her to Tracy Island, then we'll go from there."