DISCLAIMER: I just want to get this straight. Thunderbird DOES NOT belong to me. It belongs to Carlton and Gary Anderson. Me, I'm just here to wreck the whole things up. Oh, and feedback, review, flames whatever you call it, are welcome ☺

SPYGAME: THE INTRUDER.

By Arayelle Lynn.

"That's the last of them, Virg," Scott announced as he helped the woman up through the hole. Checking to see if he had missed anyone else, he heard a rumbling sound as the earth beneath him shifted a little.

"Better get out of there, Scott. The building is about to collapse," Virgil advised, his hand thrusted into the hole. "Here, let me help you up," he offered.

"Good idea." Scott grasped his hand as his brother pulled him out. Once he was outside the dark hole, his eyes had to readjust due to the sudden brightness of the sun. But before his eyes could fully recover, he felt himself being pushed forward by Virgil. Then, there was another rumbling sound, this time louder, as the building totally collapsed in ruins.

Dusts clouded their vision as they coughed, wiping the tears in their eyes. A second later, someone grabbed their arms and helped them navigate their way. "You two alright?" asked the concerned voice of Alan Tracy, their younger brother.

Scott coughed. "Yeah, that was a close one."

"You can say that again," Virgil rasped. He seemed to be wheezing.

After making sure that they were distance away from the catastrophe, the three young men looked back. Sure enough, the apartment building that once housed forty tenants lay in ruins. But thankfully enough, they managed to rescue everyone without any serious injury.

Nobody knew how the building had collapsed. Reports indicated that the building had a satisfactorily structural integrity. Plus, the building was only two years old, so it should've been able to stand for years to come. But here, it all started when the lower section of the building began to sink into the earth, as if something was swallowing it. From the witnesses' statements, some heard a low explosion, while some claimed that they heard a rumbling sound from below before the building collapses.

But one thing for sure, it had been serious enough for the authorities to call up International Rescue. They didn't have equipment as high tech and sophisticated as International Rescue's so they didn't dare to rescue the trapped tenants from the fragile ruin.

Thankfully, International Rescue had been prompt enough in their response. And soon, everyone especially the tenants, were able to breathe a sigh of relief. But to the three young men, it was hardly over.

"What do you think makes the building went down like that?" Alan wondered.

"No idea," Scott answered. "But whatever it was, I have a very peculiar feeling."

Virgil stifled a cough to voice his agreement. "Me too," he gasped, fighting to clear his throat. Hearing his ragged breathing, Scott and Alan looked at him in concern. "You okay, Virgil? You don't sound so good," Alan asked while Scott nodded, putting an arm around his younger brother.

The second son of Jeff Tracy coughed again. "Just need a little bit of fresh air, is all. Don't worry about it."

"Worry, schmorry. We're all pretty beat up and we badly need some rest," said Scott, knowing that he would kick himself if something were to happen to his brothers. He looked at Alan. "Why don't you ride with Virgil? I'll feel much better knowing you and Gordon will be watching him."

Virgil was about to protest when another coughing fit hit him. Then, smiling rather sheepishly, he looked at his protective brother. "I guess you're right."

"You know I'm right." Scott shrugged. He playfully pushed his brother towards Thunderbird 2. "Go on. Gordon's already docked Thunderbird 3. I think he's rather impatient to leave."

The two turned to see their other brother standing at the mouth of Thunderbird 2, his arms crossed and feet tapping. "Right! I forgot that he's favourite TV programme is starting," Alan gasped, glancing at his watch.

They chuckled and two of the brothers walked up to join Gordon. Scott waited before he made his way to his own craft.

"Hey, mister," said a voice. He turned to see a freckle-faced boy of 15 years old. His brown hair was hidden under a blue cap, which almost covered his eyes. His flannel shirt was rather dusty and there's a small tear on one of his sleeves. Scott immediately recognized him.

"Hey, kid," he said as the boy came over. "How's your grandma doing?" The boy had been one of the victims trapped in the hole. When Scott first met him, he was trying to comfort the panicking victims and at the same time tending to his unconscious grandmother. What made Scott singled this boy out was that he had been the one who stayed below to help Scott with the victims. He had shown great courage and deep sense of calm that Scott rarely found in other ordinary people. That and his sense of duty impressed Scott.

The boy looked back at the retreating ambulance. "She'll be fine. There wasn't any room left for me to take a ride to the hospital." He spread his arms. "And as you can see, I barely count as an injured victim."

"Yeah, well maybe the police would give you a ride. After all, the hospital people might want to see you. It's standard procedure," said Scott, nodding at the row of patrol cars with some of the victims in it.

The boy waved off his words, nonchalantly. Then, he looked at Scott rather timidly. "Actually I was hoping that you would take me a ride on that cool craft," he said, his dark brown eyes eyeing Thunderbird 1 in awe.

As much as Scott liked the boy, he had to decline. "No can do, kid. It's against the rules. I'm sorry."

The boy looked disappointed and Scott found himself disliking it. Then, the boy gave him a smile and a wave. "It's okay," he said. "I guess you're leaving now. You sure look like you need a good bath… and a good scrub."

Scott reached over and playfully pulled the cap even lower. "Look who's talking. Take care of yourself, kid."

The boy pushed the cap back. "Right back at you."

Just as the boy said that, they heard a humming sound. Then, Scott found himself looking up as Thunderbird 2 ascended. He wasn't at all worried about getting home the last one. His high-speed craft could catch up with Virgil's easily. As his brother's green craft disappeared into the horizon, Scott ran his hand through his hair, dusting off the dusts. He turned back to regard the boy and found him gone. So was one of the patrol cars.

"Strange kid," he muttered to himself. Though the boy had the look of a 15-year-old, his voice sounded as if he was only 13. "Maybe it's the way he carries himself around that made him look older. Who knows, maybe the kid'll end up changing the world."

Seeing that his presence was no longer needed, Scott trudged up the ramp tiredly. He went to the cockpit, reported his departure to his father and brought his craft up. Without Alan riding with him this time, the cockpit seemed to be pretty quiet, as usual, except for the gentle hum of the engine. Scott let himself to feel at ease with the serenity until he detected an alien presence behind him.

Before he could turn around, he felt a cold, hard thing pressed behind his left ear. "Don't turn around, if you value your life," said a whispering voice. Scott mentally kicked himself at not having his craft checked for intrusion before he departed. He must've been pretty tired to have forgotten one of the most important procedures.

And now, because of his mistake, he's handing the secret of the Tracy's family to an enemy.

"What do you want?" he asked, knowing full well what this hijacker was after.

"Simple. We're going back home," said the voice. Scott failed to identify the person's gender. And he was mildly surprise by the hijacker's answer. Why would this person want the location of Tracy Island? Didn't he know that he would be apprehended by the Tracys once they land?

Whatever the answer was, Scott couldn't let the hijacker know the location of the island. Maybe he had other reason for wanting to know where the island was. Or maybe he was carrying a homing device that would alert his accomplices. No, this is not going to simply be a ride home for me, he decided.

And so, as he piloted, Scott devised a plan. The hijacker never left his side so Scott could barely reach over to the emergency button he had under the controls. And the gun was always pressing against his back ear so Scott hadn't dared to make any sudden move. His only hope was that when his father realized that he's not keeping in touch as scheduled, he would know that something had gone wrong.

"Don't even think about touching the button," the voice warned, startling Scott. He hadn't realized that his hand had been moving under the control panel. "I know all about it. And your craft as well. So, don't do anything stupid."

"Why are you doing this?" Scott decided to break the silence. He wanted to know more about his hijacker.

But the unknown person seemed to be in no mood for a conversation. Soon, the shroud of silence fell on them again. And it was then, Scott gently put his plan into motion. He pulled the throttle a little to one side.

However, his plan backfired when the hijacker nudged the gun. "We've veered two degrees off the intended course. Fix that now," the person ordered. Scott was truly surprised at this that he didn't obey until he felt the gun nudging him again. How did he know that they were off course?

"I know where Tracy Island is," said the hijacker as his answer. "You're just my ride to get there."

"How did you know…?"

"You'll be surprised by how much I know about you, Scott Tracy. And your entire family," said the person, emphasizing the word, though the emphasis was lost to Scott due to his profound surprise.

"If you've known the location, why not go there yourself?" he prompted. He was glad the hijacker was finally opening up.

The person snorted, and Scott still failed to determine his hijacker's gender. He was good at keeping his identity. He was probably a world-class hijacker, Scott mused. "I'm not as dumb as your average bad guy. I know that if I am to take a boat or even a craft to your island, you would detect me from miles away and would move your island away." The person sensed Scott's astonishment. "Yes, I do know about your island's mobility as well."

Yep, definitely not your average hijacker. This person's a professional.

'And that rules out the Hood! Unless he's taking pains now to hire professional hijacker,' Scott thought to himself. Then he sensed the hijacker glanced at his watch.

"Your father should be contacting you right about now," said the hijacker, which again surprised Scott. And as he said that, the comm. beeped. "I know that it's procedure to contact your base after an hour of departure. I know it serves as an all-clear signal to your father."

He nudged the gun. "Go ahead, answer that call," he instructed. "Tell him your 15 minutes ETA. But don't do anything stupid. He might not want to see his son getting hurt. And I'm a very sharp shooter. I can hit you even if I'm sitting down."

With that, Scott felt the gun left his ear as the hijacker took cover behind the seat. Even so, Scott didn't plan to make a single move. He could easily feel the gun jabbing his right kidney. Gulping, fighting hard to remain calm, he answered the call.

His father appeared on the screen. "What took you so long, Scott? Why didn't you contact us?" were his father's first questions. Seeing his face gave Scott an idea.

"Uh, nothing dad. I guess I must've been pretty tired that I forgot about it," he answered, surprised by the calm in his voice. "Has Thunderbird 2 arrived yet?"

"They're docking. What's your ETA?"

"Ten minutes," he answered, without a second glance at the chronometer. He needed to look directly at his father.

"Well, hurry up. You won't want to miss dinner. You know how Gordon eats."

Scott gave his father a smile. He knew that his father had gotten the message. "I'm there already, dad."

>>>>>>

The instant Scott was late to contact him made Jeff Tracy realized that something was amiss. Responsible-bound Scott would never forget procedures. In fact, at times, it was he who reminded his father of them. So, when he at last established contact with his son, Jeff discovered that he had been right. As he was acting as if nothing was wrong, Scott Tracy had sent a Morse code cry for help by slightly blinking his eyes.

It said, 'TB 1 compromise. No option. Target: the island. Advice?'

And Jeff had sent his own secret message in telling his eldest son to keep the charade while he and his other sons would spring a trap to capture the hijacker once they land on the island. So, he called up all of them, including the one in outer space.

"What is it, dad?" asked Virgil. He was still wearing his dust-covered uniform. Neither he nor Alan and Gordon had any time to change before their father called them up, rather urgently. Jeff regarded all his sons carefully.

"We have security breach. Thunderbird 1 has been hijacked."

The response was expected. Each boys and girls, counting Tin Tin and Grandma Tracy, looked at each other in shock. "How?"

"Is Scott alright?"

"What do we do?"

"Who are they?" were the questions that rained on Jeff Tracy. To stop them, he put out his hand.

"We don't have much time. Scott said that they'll be here in less than 10, so we need to work quickly," he continued. He turned to Virgil. "How are you feeling?" he asked his second son.

Too anxious to worry about himself, Virgil swallowed a cough. "Better."

"Good, because I need you and Gordon to help me subdue the hijacker. We don't really know if Scott would be in any position to do it himself so I'll need you two," he said, relaying his plan to them. He turned to Alan and the others. "Alan, you and Brain'll be watching the outer door of the hangar. If the hijacker managed to get through Virgil, Gordon and Scott, we need someone there to stop him."

"And for the rest of you, you're going to be here in this room acting as if nothing has happen," he instructed.

"What about you, Mr. Tracy? Where would you be?" asked Tin Tin.

Jeff gave them a grim smile. "Why, to do things any great fathers would do. I'm welcoming my son home."

>>>>>>

Scott landed Thunderbird 1 gently. Though he barely showed it, he was feeling very nervous inside. He didn't know what his father had planned to handle the situation. He didn't know what would be the outcome of everything that was happening. But most of all, and he was tearing himself up with it, was not knowing if any of his family could get hurt by this. Although the hijacker hadn't made a single death threat, Scott knew that he's capable of doing just that. But Scott was determined not to let that happen, especially when it involved his family.

"Move," the person instructed. Scott stood and discovered that the person wasn't any taller than him. In fact, and he saw this from the corner of his eyes, the hijacker was only a head shorter than him! "Don't turn around. Just move to the door and down the ramp." He grasped a handful of Scott's back collar and pushed him forward.

Scott obeyed. The hangar was clear. There was no sign of anyone, as it should be. Again, Scott wondered what his father plan was. He didn't see anything out of ordinary in the hangar. In fact, everything was quiet. Too quiet.

As they reached the bottom of the ramp, the hijacker released his hold on Scott. "Alright, we better drop the charade. I wasn't really going to hurt you," the person was saying when suddenly Scott heard the sound of rushing feet from behind them. Then, everything went a little chaotic as Scott felt himself being pushed forward and the sound of a heavy metal thing hitting the floor.

"I surrender," said the hijacker before Virgil and Gordon could get a hold of him. Once he dropped the gun to the floor, Virgil and Gordon quickly took his arms. "I'm unarmed."

"Unarmed?" Gordon echoed, his eyes widened at the sight of the gun on the floor. He was still trying to piece out the puzzle as to why the hijacker, who went through all these, not giving a struggle at all.

"It's not loaded," the hijacker said as Scott picked up the gun. He checked it and confirmed his answer. "He's right. It's empty." He looked up to his captor and gasped. "You're that kid!" was all he managed. His hijacker had been the freckle-faced boy!

"You know him?" asked Gordon, who never met the kid before.

Virgil took a second look. "Yeah, we do. He's the one who helped us with the rescue. He's okay, I guess," said Virgil doubtfully.

But Gordon was still dissatisfied. He looked at Scott while Virgil looked at the shadow behind Scott for further instruction. "I don't get it? Why was a kid going around waving a gun at people? Why was a kid going around hijacking people? And why went to all that trouble just to surrender to us in the end?" said Gordon, looking at the hijacker, who was about his height, suspiciously.

"Simple. I just want to talk to the head of the Tracy's family," said the kid, his innocent kid-like demeanor vanished. In replacement was a serious boy who's taking no nonsense. He stared at the shadow behind Scott. "It's very important."

Jeff Tracy stepped into the light. "Alright, you caught my attention. Why do you want to talk to me?" he said, giving his eldest son a squeeze on the shoulder to tell him how glad he was that Scott was safe. Then, he looked at the boy before him. He was deeply impressed by the skills that the boy had shown in thwarting International Rescue's security. That and a little concern as to what brought the boy to them and if the enemy had somehow acquired ways to turn boys into spies.

The boy looked at Virgil, Gordon then finally at Scott. His serious demeanor never changed. Then, he shook his head. "It's classified. I need to speak to you first," said the boy, his eyes held a look that he would not accept otherwise.

The look he gave him sent a chill up Jeff's spine. He had seen that look before. A very long time ago. Frowning, Jeff Tracy stepped closer to the boy to see him more closely. "Who are you, young man?" he asked, knowing the boy couldn't be more than 17.

"That's classified information for now, sir," he answered, his words made him sound like one who worked for the government. "But I have a name that you'll recognized anywhere," he said. "Brittany Claire Dermont."

Never before had Scott, Virgil and Gordon saw their father paled. By just looking at him, they knew that their father had recognized the name. But the question was, what's the significant of that name? Recovering quickly, Jeff Tracy nodded at his two sons. "Release him," he said.

"Father?" Gordon voiced, disbelief. Virgil had already released his hold.

"It's fine, Gordon. I want to talk to this kid myself," said his father. Reluctantly, Gordon released his hold and the boy made his way towards Mr. Tracy.

"Is there any place private for us to talk?" he asked, looking up to the taller man.

Mr. Tracy snapped himself out of his reverie. "Yes," he said, then turned to his sons. "Boys, why don't you go get yourself clean up ad ready for dinner? And please, tell grandma and Tin Tin that everything's alright."

Sparing a glance at the boy, Scott ushered his brothers out. He had known that the boy had been different. But would he be causing them trouble? As much as he wanted to stay around and protect his father, Scott knew that he must get his brothers up. Virgil's face was getting redder from stifling his cough and Gordon just looked plain beat. Even he himself must've looked the same.

No, he had seen the boy's sincerity, had sensed his good intention. Whatever the boy's story was all about, he's sure that the boy could've done worse but he chose not to hurt Scott or even threatened his life. All he wanted was for Scott to bring him to his father.

And he did.

>>>>>>

The second Scott stepped into the living room, clean and fresh, he was surrounded by concerned family members. Since he had given Gordon the job of telling everybody that everything was fine, they hadn't been able to see Scott until he showed up a few minutes later, looking rather calm. But there's a certain eagerness in his eyes that they could clearly see.

"Has dad come up yet?" asked Gordon, who had taken a record-breaking time at the shower. Like others, he too was eager to know what his father and the boy were talking about downstairs.

"No," said Alan, also clean. "And don't say that you're dying to know what's going on because we all are."

John, who was on Thunderbird 5, shook his head. "Let's give the two some time alone first. Dad'll tell us everything if he feels that we should know," said the most patient Tracy.

"And it's all well rewarded, John," said the voice of their father coming into the room. They all turned their attention to him. "Where's the kid?" asked Scott, seeing that his father had entered alone.

"I'm here," said a voice behind Jeff Tracy. Scott was surprised at the changes that took place in the boy's feature. Gone was the serious look, replaced by a look of a happy kid who had just found his lost toys. And gone also was the freckles on his face, leaving a clear and smooth face. All in all, this was hardly the same boy that hijacked Thunderbird 1. And also the cocky boy Scott met at the ruins.

"Hey, people," the boy said, giving them a small wave of greeting. He was looking at them rather shyly.

"Dad, what's going on?" asked Virgil also noticing the changes. Grandma Tracy was busy readjusting her glasses, her eyes staring hard at the boy, blinking in disbelief.

Jeff smiled at the boy, nudging him forward. Once the boy stood beside him, Jeff put a hand on his shoulder. "Boys, I would like you to meet your cousin, Valerie Carter."

"Valerie?" they all chorused.

The boy took off his cap. A long silky honey brown hair fell onto his shoulders, revealing a totally new face. The boy had suddenly transformed into a girl!

Suddenly, Grandma Tracy let out a squeal that rivaled a ten-year-old-girl. She went over to the girl, hugging and kissing her until the girl gave the look of someone being smothered. Looking at her expression, something clicked in Scott's mind. That surprised him even more than when he found out that Thunderbird 1 was hijacked.

"Val? Val Carter?" he gasped. Hearing him, his brothers looked at him and back at the girl. Even they couldn't believe their eyes. For the person standing before them was long-time considered dead!

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, what do you think? Is this story worth a second chapter? Tell me.