Disclaimer: I do not own the Tracys or International Rescue or the Thunderbirds. This story is not written for any lucrative purpose, just for your enjoyment and to honor the memory of one of its creators, the late Gerry Anderson. May he rest in peace!

A/N: Our local newspaper prints (online) the mugshots of those who are jailed daily in the Daytona Beach area. There was, seriously, an E. Virgil Alan Bliz….! (think of another word for 'snowstorm.') This gentleman has been incarcerated many times. It's patently obvious that at least one of his progenitors was a major Thunderbirds fan to give him such a name.

And now, "I can't believe I just heard that!"

TBTBTBTBTB

Chapter One

Space is not really the Final Frontier. We can enter into Space. We can work in Space. We can travel in Space. We cannot always perfectly comprehend everything that happens in Space, we are not natives of Space, we can try to be safe there, however…there is always that element of unquantifiable risk…

John Tracy cocked his head again for what seemed liked the millionth time in the past half hour. Yes, this latest round of massive solar flares would drive him insane if he couldn't clean up the interference with all of Thunderbird 5's massive communication arrays. Solar storms were increasing by the hour, and all of the solar flares John had ever seen or studied about seemed to be as insignificant as a peanut hurled towards an elephant at a zoo compared to the mess he now found himself and his 'Bird in. Not only did he have to contend with solar flares, now there were coronal mass ejections, or CME's, blasting out in a never-ending, rapid-fire staccato towards the Earth. CME's are chock-full of solar particles blasting out into Space, kind of like a spray of bullets from an AK-47. The hits just keep on a-coming!

"Thank Heaven for the Earth's atmosphere," murmured John to himself. "People haven't got a clue as to how they remain safe and sound while those of us up here have to worry about massive doses of solar radiation!"

Just then a familiar call sounded, but not as strongly as usual. It was International Rescue's base on Tracy Island attempting to contact Thunderbird 5.

"T… is Base to …derbird 5… ohn, come in plea…," intoned Jeff Tracy, patriarch of the Tracy family and Commander of International Rescue.

"Go ahead, Father." John spoke calmly and clearly. "We're having quite a bit of interference today due to all of the solar flares and CME's."

Instead of the usual steady picture of his father behind his desk 23,000 miles below him on Tracy Island, the image danced and wavered unsteadily as the Sun's interference distorted all attempts at communications. Their resident engineering genius, familiarly known as Brains, appeared in the viewscreen alongside his father as the image flickered and wavered.

"H-h-h-ello there, John. Ye-ye-… correct. The inter…ence will last another four… hours or so," Brains allowed.

"How long did you say it will last, Brains?"

"At leas…anoth…f-f-fourteen hou…at least."

"Great, how can I pick up distress calls or answer them if our communications are so spotty, Brains?" queried John.

"Well boy, you…ust have to d…est you can," Jeff tried to explain to his second-oldest son.

John squinted at the fuzzy image of his father and Brains, ran his hand through his platinum blond locks and responded, "Okay, I'll do my best. Nothing much seems to be happening now, at least, that I can make out. If anything interesting happens, I'll let you know."

"Great Jo…eel peak ith ooo later." With that, the transmission abruptly terminated.

Rising to stretch and recheck Thunderbird 5's antenna relays, John whirled around and gasped! He couldn't have heard what he had just heard, could he? No way! Not in a million years! Dashing towards his main console, he hit the controls for a replay of the message he found so utterly astonishing. Quickly tapping the keys, he heard it anew:

"…irgil.. Alan Tracy…in custody…or murder o…Police Capta…Wo Fat… tempted murder two mo…ficers. No furth…formation at present…ay tune…update news at fiii….."

It couldn't possibly be true! How in blazes could he ever believe that his younger brothers Virgil and Alan could be mixed up in the murder of a Police Captain, and the attempted murders of two more police officers? This must be a nightmare! Beads of sweat began dripping down his suddenly ruddy face. But…his brothers WERE on leave at the present time. He knew that they'd been given a rare weekend off to attend a concert in Hawaii where Virgil was going to see some pianist buddies of his. Alan had gone along to keep Virgil company, and to act as the Designated Driver, er, Pilot for the return trip. Alan hadn't really wanted to take off for Hawaii two days after returning from his rotation in Thunderbird 5, he would much rather have stayed at home and gone to the beach with his girlfriend Tin-Tin, or go snorkeling with Tin-Tin, or played tennis with Tin-Tin, or…er-hum, nah, Tin-Tin wasn't that kind of girl! John allowed himself a brief chuckle. Any day now he expected to hear of wedding plans for Alan and Tin-Tin, or of an elopement! Forcing himself to once again become the cool-thinking astronomer and computer genius he was famed to be, John listened again and again to the recording. Nope, not a doubt! Virgil and Alan were in custody for the murder of Police Captain Wo Fat, and the attempted murders of two more officers. The whole mess was insanely unimaginable! Why would his brothers, sons of a billionaire and each quite wealthy in his own right, go bezerkezoid and kill or harm innocent policemen? Now what, for pity's sake, was he supposed to do? He fervently wished he could be several solar systems away from his father before giving him this heartbreaking news. Sighing, he grabbed a chocolate bar from his rapidly-diminishing stash of Ghirardellis and resolutely returned to his main comm panel.

Chapter Two

Standard disclaimer, please see it at Chapter One

5…4…3…2…1!

"Base from Thunderbird 5," said John impassively. He repeated himself several times before being rewarded with a response. He had already tried calling Virgil and Alan, but the solar-induced interference with all radio bandwidths and laser comm circuitry was particularly bad in the South Pacific. Neither Virgil nor Alan was even answering their watch comms, which John took as a mighty bad sign.

"…oo ahead, John," came the reply from his father. Jeff Tracy was alone now, papers spread about in heaps all over his desk. An ever-present ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts and there were three, no, four empty coffee cups on the desk as well.

"Dad, have you heard from either Virgil or Alan lately? Say, in the past hour or so?" queried John.

"No son…ey will be go….ntil tomorrooooo."

John pondered how what he was about to say might affect his father, but there was no help for it. The sooner his dad knew the truth, the sooner they could begin helping Virgil and Alan. With any luck, they might even be able to get one of their ever-ready, previously-retained attorneys to find a judge who might possibly grant bail to his two brothers before the sun set on this sorry day.

"Dad, I have some news about Virgil and Alan. I'm afraid you'll find this most distressing."

"What news is that, Jo…? Were they…an accidennn?" Jeff Tracy had jumped to his feet so quickly he almost fell over backwards. "Where arrrr ey….?"

"No, father, they haven't been in an accident."

"Thank God, then. What is wrong with my boys?" There was now a steel undertone to Jeff Tracy's voice. "Where are they? They're supposed to be in Honolulu!"

John kept his cool, and kept his voice low and with a moderate tone, to not pour verbal gasoline on his father's quick-flaring temper. "Dad, you must listen to this recording. Please tell me what you think of it."

After listening with rapt attention to what he could make out of the recording, Jeff rubbed his forehead and looked as if he had aged 25 years in a single instant. "I will not believe my booooyys are invol…in the killlll…of a pleeese off..sir!"

Although the reply was quite garbled John understood his father perfectly. "Dad, perhaps we can have one of International Rescue's agents in Hawaii investigate this matter for us, and report back about Alan's and Virgil's status and location?"

"Wellll John, what ell….is there forrrr it? Did yooo…spect me to call the Man frooo Uncle?"

"No father," respectfully responded John. "What if you sent Scott over in Thunderbird 1 to see if he could communicate with them any better from a much closer distance? Perhaps the watch comms still work at close range?"

"Thaa…nottt goooinggg t….appen, Johnnn. I can't taaaake the risssskk of losssinggg another of you booysss. We'lll jus…ave to wait for an…pdate."

"FAB father. I'll let you know the minute I hear anything else about Virg and Alan. Thunderbird 5 out!"

The transmission rapidly shimmered and faded until John once again found himself utterly alone in space. There had to be a better way of helping his brothers, there just had to something he could do!

For three long hours John sat there wracking his brain for some alternative explanation, with no luck. Let's face it, he mentally intoned to himself, there's no way out of this mess for those two!

Meanwhile, back on Tracy Island, Jeff kept trying to raise his sons on their wrist comms but wasn't having any success. All of a sudden, Jeff and everyone else on the island could hear the roar of an approaching jet. Just as suddenly, the plane landed and out hopped Virgil and Alan. Laughing at each other, each rolling an overnight bag behind him, they started up the steps to the main villa.

Jeff Tracy stormed out of the villa and headed straight for his sons. "Now you're going to add escaping from jail along with all of the other charges against you? I'm ready to disown you right now! To think that any son of mine would just go and murder a policeman, and injure two of his colleagues? What is wrong with you? Did you just fall somewhere and smack your heads upside the pavement the wrong way? What were you thinking? Virg? Alan?"

Virgil and Alan Tracy stood stock-still. After what seemed like an eternity, but was actually only about twenty seconds, Alan said, "Father! What on Earth are you talking about? We're home now because all of Virgil's piano buddies came down with the flu, and we didn't want to stick around and get sick from anyone at the recitals! We haven't hurt a fly! How can you think we could ever do something that low?"

Before Virgil had a chance to put his two cents into the conversation, Jeff had the boys follow him to his office where he played the tape which John had recorded up on the Space Station. With stunned faces, both Virgil and Alan began entreating Jeff to believe that not only were they totally innocent of any crime, neither one of them had any idea of how their names could have gotten mixed up in such a serious crime case!

After several minutes of listening to his sons, Jeff spoke softly. "Okay, okay boys. You've convinced me that you have absolutely, positively done nothing wrong. So who can be using your names now? Are they perhaps hoping that I would rush in and pay hush money so that your names, and our family, wouldn't be involved in any scandal or crime? I just don't get it!"

Just then Brains suddenly appeared in the office. Breathing hard, as he had just run all the way up from his laboratory, he sputtered, "M-m-m-mister T-t-tracy! I've g-g-got it!"

"What's that, Brains?" asked Jeff.

"It's n-n-not Vir-ir-gil and Al-alan who k-killed the p-p-policeman. The, uh, per-per-perpetrator is a known crim-criminal named E. Virgil Alan T-t-tracy! I m-managed t-t-to ge-get on the internet and f-f-found the st-story in the Hon-honolulu St-star B-b-bulletin. He-he's a w-w-well-known cr-crook, h-has b-b-been in jail m-m-many times b-b-before!"

"Well, if that doesn't just take the cake!" exclaimed Jeff, while his sons visibly relaxed and sat down. "Guess I'm not the only father to name his sons after famous astronauts!"

Tin-Tin chose that moment to walk into the room, bearing a tray with fresh coffee and sandwiches. "Oh! Alan and Virgil! What are you boys doing back here now? I thought you were gone for the day!"

Alan smiled as he took the tray from her to set it down on Jeff's desk. Laughingly, he and Virgil explained what had just happened, and how thankful they were to Brains for being able to explain the mystery to them.

Tin-tin's melodious laugh tinkled through the room. "I'm extremely glad I won't have to visit you boys in prison!" There was chuckling and laughter throughout the room.

In the next instant, there was an urgent call coming in again from John on Thunderbird 5. His portrait's eyes were flashing insistently, and Jeff answered quickly. "Go ahead, John."

"Dad! Yooo…ont believe thissss….but now Scott and Gord….Tracy ave been arrested…same crime!"

Everyone in the room roared with laughter as Brains quickly explained his new-found information about the case to John, and let him know that the solar interference might last a bit longer than they had originally expected.

Virgil went to grab another sandwich while answering John. "Since those two are lounging around the pool right now, I would hazard a guess that E. Virgil Alan had another brother who was named Scott Gordon Tracy."

Tin-Tin snickered and said, "Oh no, you boys are plenty for us to deal with! We don't need imposters running around in your places!

John smiled up in Thunderbird 5 and thought about how much his family meant to him. "Okay father, as long as they haven't named another bad apple 'Jefferson' after a president, we'll be fine!"

"Time to get back to work everybody," smiled Jeff. "This is International Rescue, not Crime Incorporated, let's be ready to go on our next call-out. Keep in touch, John."

And with that, life went back to its normal routine on Tracy Island. There was always plenty of work to be done, but it was done with comradery, love and laughter.

The End

Please R&R, thank you! By the way, "Wo Fat" was a character in the 1960s show "Hawaii Five-0."