I do not own the Thunderbird, I do not own the Thunderbirds.

Chapter Two – A Luncheon to Remember

Alan and Fermat stood in the doorway of the hall where the luncheon was being held. As the Student Council President, Alan had been on the Planning Committee. Much of the decorating had come from his ideas, at least from Alan and originating with Virgil. His brother really did have a good eye for color schemes and decorating. The villa he shared with his wife Sarah really was the most stylish of his three brothers. Scott and Kate's tended to be ultra-efficient, while John and Emily's was filled with antiques, many having been Em's grandfather's, that she had kept in storage since his death five years earlier. Thinking of the three homes of his brothers made Alan smile slightly. Now if only his father would choose to decorate in ANY if his brothers' style. Dad may be brilliant at business but when it came to home fashions….

"Alan!" As if thinking of his father had produced the man, Jeff Tracy was bounding up the steps and enveloping his youngest son in a fierce bear hug. "You look good. Are you getting excited?"

Smiling, Alan answered, "Yeah, we are Dad. Got the video camera all set? Scott and Virg will never forgive you if you don't get all of this on a vid."

"Forget Scott and Virg," Tin-Tin smiled at her fiancé. "I'd be more afraid of Kate and Sarah. You know they both think of Alan as their little brother. It will be in everyone's best interest to have a good vid and plenty of pictures if they have to miss this." Reaching out she took Alan by the hand only to have him pull her close. Giggling softly as he kissed her quickly, Jeff and Fermat couldn't help but notice Alan's reluctance to let her go. Brains had come up the stairs, giving his son a quick hug and an affection pat to Alan. Jeff smiled at the four people gathered before him. This day was just about perfect.

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In the past few months, his life had gone downhill. He had been thrown out of school and eventually, thrown out of family's home, thrown out of his lifestyle. And it was all the fault of Alan Tracy. If it hadn't been for the Golden Boy of Wharton Academy, the world would still be his oyster, just waiting for him to snatch up the pearl. Instead, he had been forced to resort to less than legal methods for survival. On the positive side, he had been introduced to men who were far more willing to aid him in bringing Alan Tracy, no the whole Tracy Family, to their just end. That had been his problem before; everyone was too busy toadying to Alan Tracy or in fear of the Tracy Family to help him before.

That would no longer be a problem. And soon, no longer would Alan Tracy be a problem - or anything else for that matter.

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Back at the luncheon, Jeff nodded and tried to remember which teacher was talking to him now. Three years ago, Jeff would have cringed at being repeatedly pinned by his son's teachers. But it seemed all of Alan's teachers wanted one last time to tell Jeff what a change there had been in Alan, and what a pleasure he had been to have in class. The biggest surprise came when a man came up and introduced himself as the headmaster. Shaking his head, Jeff interrupted, "I'm sorry, but when did you become the headmaster? I remember my daughter-in-law saying something about the headmaster being put on suspension, but…"

The Headmaster went on to explain that the former headmaster had been fired and that he had replaced him. Hadn't Mrs. Tracy – he believed it was a Katherine Tracy? – informed him? It had all gone through her. Jeff shook his head, trying not to laugh. Kate was a firm protector of family, a trait that she often declared was "bread in the bone, as much a part of the Eppes as it is the Tracys." He had no doubt that with that kind of dual heritage, his grandson Jason would be the firm a leader as his parents were for their own generation, and as protective. Already little Jason stood – or at least as well as he could at a year, protectively over his younger cousin Elizabeth, watching over the baby. It was actually kinda cute.

Coach Bob Michaels approached Jeff Tracy, smiling and holding out a hand in greeting. "Mr. Tracy! Well, we are going to miss our powerhouse on the track team. Not to mention," the coach mused "it was nice to regularly see family in the stands at our meets." Michaels sighed, "Don't expect to see that again for a while. Is there any chance of more Tracys coming up soon?"

"Sorry" Jeff laughed. "But Alan is the youngest until Jason and he is barely one. Not to mention, Jason's father played baseball. It was John and Alan who ran track."

"Ah, yes the two heroes."

"Excuse me?"

Not knowing that he had caught the Tracy patriarch by surprise, the coach began his explanation for the other parents present while seeming to talk only to Jeff. Coach Michaels grinned. "It was incredible. I mean, we wanted to celebrate not only another track championship, but most of my team this year is Seniors. So since they were noticeably reluctant for another hike in the woods" Michaels ignored the glare Jeff shot him at the reminder of the team's near-miss two years ago "we wanted to take the boys to Six Flags New England. We almost couldn't since we were shy a chaperone, but then Alan's brother John and his wife agreed to come along. I swear - bringing that baby along made the team into choirboys. And watching Alan hold his niece… I expected the others to be teasing him. Instead they were almost jealous. And your daughter-in-law, she has a way of getting everyone in line, doesn't she?"

Jeff simply nodded, encouraging Michaels to continue. "Then there was that incident on the rollercoaster. Some idiot kid – on a bet from one of his friends – managed to get out of the safety restraints on his ride and fell almost fifteen feet before getting caught in the rigging. It would have better if he had been knocked unconscious, since he kept trying to force himself loose. If he had succeeded before anyone had reached him, he surely would have fallen to his death. Well, the fire department had been called, but a fifteen car pile up on the highway was snarling the access. So the Tracy boys fixed up some rigging as quick as you please, managing to get to the trapped boy and get him, and themselves, safely to the ground. It was amazing! The way they worked together, they hardly said a word. It was like watching a rescue team that had been together for years." Jeff swallowed hard at that comparison, but kept his expression neutral.

"What amazes me," Coach Michaels addressed Jeff again, as the others drifted off, "was how you kept that out of the media."

"Wh-what sh-should amaze you," Brains added quietly, having joined his employer, "is h-how the b-boys k-kept it from their f-father."

Michaels looked shocked. "You mean…"

Alan, Tin-Tin and Fermat had walked up to the trio. Jeff looked at his youngest son, eyes narrowing. "Well, Alan, your brother mentioned that you all had a good time at Six Flags. It seems both of my fair-haired boys forgot to mention anything else." At the baleful look his star runner tossed at him, Coach Michaels muttered an excuse and left the group. Making sure no outsiders were nearby, Jeff whispered to Alan, "You aren't clear for rescues yet. What were you thinking? No, what was John thinking."

"I believe Dad; we were both thinking that someone could die unless we did something. We did what you always taught us to do. We worked as a team and safely brought the kid down. And John got enough of a lecture from Emily, so please go easy on him."

Thinking of his gentle, soft-spoken daughter-in-law, Jeff blinked. "Emily went off on John? I don't believe it. Really?"

Alan laughed. "Oh yeah, don't ever come between Em and a patient. Or worse, put one of Em's patients at risk." And kissing Tin-Tin on the cheek, he added. "And I already got chewed out as well. So we have both been firmly put in our place."

Seeing Tin-Tin's blushing look, seasoned with a slight glare for her fiancée made Jeff laugh. "Well," he thought, "seems like the Tracy women have the men well in hand." Fixing a look of his own on Alan, he whispered, "We'll discuss this more back home, when Scott and Kate can be present."

For the first time Alan looked uncomfortable. Oh, great, the elders were gonna gang up on him but good. Up on the podium, the headmaster began to draw the gatherings attention.

"If I could have your attention please; I hope you have enjoyed the luncheon. I can't tell you how many positive remarks I have heard about the more relaxed atmosphere that this year's luncheon was trying to promote. Our student committee – Michael Adams, Atif Fakir, Manuel Sanchez and Alan Tracy – should be applauded for all the hard work and effort they put into making this year's Senior Luncheon a memorable one."

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Outside a figure grinned evilly at the headmaster's remark. Oh yes, this year's luncheon would certainly be remembered for a long time. The survivors would make sure of that.

With a gesture, two other men emerged from hiding places, making their way to the separate entrances, preparing to act on the orders of someone with no compassion or integrity. But as these were things they themselves lacked it made no difference what so ever to them.

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The headmaster had made quick business of the awards. For expedience sake, most of the winners were already known. So as each reason and recipient was announced, the boy in question knew to stand up, walk to the stage and accept his award. Two photographers were in position. One would take a picture of the student with the headmaster while the second was set up to take pictures with the recipients family once he was off the stage. Fermat had received both the math and science department awards. Alan had received the student athlete award and the gag award of "prettiest", as well as "class clown". Jeff shook his head, laughing at the last two, while proudly standing up with his son for the athletic award. Finally, it was time for the last award.

Coach Michaels surprised many by coming on stage at that time. "Ladies and gentlemen, our last award is a very special one. This award is one the student must be nominated for by at least two faculty members and two of his fellow graduates. It was, many years ago, the award for the Most Likely to Succeed. But we realized while we hope all of our Wharton graduates will succeed, what we wanted this to symbolize was a student who best embodied what we like to call the Wharton Spirit. This year's winner of The Wharton Spirit Award was nominated by no less than seventeen members of the faculty and almost half of the Senior Class. He is an outstanding athlete, yet an excellent student. He has repeatedly shown himself to be brave, honorable and trustworthy. On several occasions, he has actually put the physical well-being of others ahead of his own. Three years ago, I personally received his aid in a time of crisis and when I commented on his courage and tenacity, he simply told me he was doing what he thought his heroes would do." The Tracy table had gone absolutely still; the tale was all too familiar. "He said his family was his heroes. Having watched him interact with his family over the years I can see why. Their love and support has allowed him to grow into one of the finest young men to ever graduate from Wharton Academy. It is with great pleasure I have asked to be allowed to present this year's Wharton Spirit Award to Alan Shepard Tracy."

Jeff and company were not the only ones standing and applauding – most of the Senior class, many of the faculty and a goodly number of the family members were on their feet as well. But they definitely were the loudest.

"Mr. Tracy?" Jeff turned, smiling at the second photographer. "If you like, I can wait until your son comes back to the table and get a group shot." Jeff nodded, knowing that Alan would want to have the picture with the whole group. Alan was already at the podium, shaking hands of several members of the faculty and the board of trustees. Before leaving the stage, Alan smiled at his coach and gave the man a quick hug. Jeff could see his son mouthing "thank you" to the coach. In return, Michaels placed a hand on Alan's head in a paternal gesture. Jeff knew the coach had become fond of his son and he had felt good knowing that the man was someone he could trust to watch over Alan.

Just as Alan turned to make his way back off the stage, three doors burst open and a spray of gunfire from two semi-automatic pistols ripped into the ceiling, bursting bulbs and shredding paper streamers. Three men, dressed in black with ski masks stormed into the hall. "Sorry for the interruption folks. But we have a small presentation of our own to do." Suddenly the man turned to the stage and fired of his gun. Screams filled the air as a body landed in a bloody heap.

a/n - don't ya just love a cliffie? blood has been spilt and who will get out of this alive. But hey, wasn't that a cool mini-rescue for Alan and John? And at least Alan got to get his award before it all went to hell...