02 Two

Monday dawned on Tracy Island and Ursula stood at the patio doors in the lounge and looked outside. The rain was pelting down.

Someone came to stand at her shoulder. "We should have realised today's weather was going to be this bad," Scott said. "Then we could have shown you the island yesterday and the hangars today."

"Could you have waited a full day?" Ursula teased. "I got the impression that you boys were as keen to show me your Thunderbirds as I was to see them."

"Well…" Scott drawled. "I suppose we were. We don't get many opportunities to show them off."

Ursula turned back to the glass that stood between her and a soaking. "Do you think it'll rain for long?"

"All day I would think. Whenever we get one of these tropical downpours and the wind's blowing from that direction we may as well forget that there's a wider world out there."

"What do you do if there's a storm like this and International Rescue are called out?"

"Storm? Cubby, this is a mere sun-shower. It'll take a category five cyclone to stop us from launching the Thunderbirds. And even then we'll try our darndest to get airborne."

"I've read about some of the things you've done and the one thing they have in common is that they're dangerous. Aren't you ever frightened?" As Ursula looked into his steely blue eyes she realised that she already knew the answer.

"Frightened? For my own safety?" Scott made a dismissive gesture. "Never."

"For your brothers' safety?"

"That," Scott admitted, "is a totally different question. If I'm working at Mobile Control and they're off somewhere else…" He shrugged. "I've got total faith in our equipment and their abilities. But…" He shrugged again. "They're my brothers. Of course I worry about them."

Ursula let the subject drop. "Just as well you showed me your craft yesterday," she tried to peer through the sheets of rain, "I can't see the swimming pool, let alone Thunderbird One launch."

Scott chuckled. "I would have thought you might have decided that was a bonus."

Ursula coloured slightly. "I'm sorry, Scott. I know Thunderbird One is special, and I was impressed by the way you flew her. It's just that that swimming pool seems to be a mite close for launching something as powerful as a rocket plane. Don't you worry that a spark could set the house on fire?"

"No," Scott shook his head. "The villa's built of fire retardant material. Besides, if you think the pool's a bit close to buildings, wait until you see Thunderbird Three take off!"

Ursula sighed. "I wish Tommy could have been here to see your planes. I know he would have been impressed. You can't expect me to appreciate them as much as a pilot would."

"I wish we could show him too," Scott admitted. He looked back outside at the inclement weather. "This is definitely a day for indoor pursuits."

"Such as?" Ursula enquired.

"Uh…" Scott's brow creased in thought. "You've got me stumped. I'd usually work on Thunderbird One or do some other maintenance, but we can't expect you to do that. Do you play chess?"

"No."

Scott raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I'm out of practise at having visitors." A set of scales was played in the background and his face lit up. "Got it! Hey, Virg…"

Virgil, seated at the white baby grand for his morning practice, looked up. "What?"

"How about giving Cubby a concert?"

"A concert?" Virgil turned pink. "You don't want to listen to me, Cubby."

"Yes, I do," Ursula enthused. "Your father says you're good enough that if you ever decided to leave International Rescue you could make your way on the music scene, and from the little I've heard I'd agree with him."

"He said that?" Virgil looked astonished.

"The old man speaks sense some times," Scott grinned. "How about it?"

"Uh…" Virgil hesitated. "Tell you what, grab John and Gordon and your guitar, and we'll all head down to the music room. No reason why it has to be a one man show."

"Okay," Scott agreed. "Meet you down there in ten minutes."

Ten minutes later and Ursula found herself in the villa's 'music room', though it looked more like a small theatre with its stage and various bits of theatrical paraphernalia about the walls. The area between the auditorium and the stage was clear and she took a seat along with Jeff, his mother, Brains, Tin-Tin and Kyrano.

Gordon sat at the drum kit and did a quick run through of the various percussion instruments, finishing with the brass platter on his left. "Who de-tuned my cymbals?"

Virgil, having already warmed up on the full sized black grand piano, began playing a vamp with his right hand. "Do you guys feel up to 'Going Faster than the Speed of Light'?"

"Is that a challenge, Little Brother?" Scott asked as he slipped the strap of his electric guitar over his shoulder.

"If you're not feeling too old." Virgil winked, not missing a beat.

"Old! Prepare to eat my dust. How about you, Gordon?"

Gordon began playing the bass drum at the same tempo as Virgil's theme. "I'll match you any day and then some… Where's John?"

Jeff leant closer to Ursula so he could whisper in her ear. "Got your dancing shoes on?"

"Dancing shoes? It's been years since I danced, Jeff." Ursula turned to the young man who'd taken a seat beside her. "Don't you play an instrument, John?"

"Not up to their standard," he replied.

"Rubbish," his father rebuked him.

"John's going to sing for us, Cubby," Scott announced.

"No, I'm not," John rebutted

"Get up here, John," Virgil instructed. "We're 'Going Faster than the Speed of Light'. We need your input."

"But the lyrics are not important."

"You wrote it."

"I know. That's why I know the lyrics are not important."

"John," Scott was the only one of the three musicians who hadn't taken up the refrain. "Get up here…" he ordered, "…or else Gordon can sing it."

"Yeah!" Gordon's face brightened.

"You can't do that," John protested. "Not to Cubby. She's a guest!"

"Think you're up to it, Gordon?" Scott asked.

"Of course I am… Ah…" Gordon stopped the regular beat of his foot on the bass pedal. "What were the words again?"

John groaned. "It's an infringement against the Geneva convention to let him sing." Clearly reluctant, he got to his feet. "Okay, I'll do it for Cubby's sake. We can't spoil her stay on Tracy Island." He climbed onto the stage and stood behind the piano.

Gordon's face fell. "I'm not that bad."

"Not that…" Virgil choked back a laugh. "Are we going to play this or am I going to keep playing the intro until I get RSI in my hand?"

Gordon picked up the beat again and Scott joined in with a riff on the guitar.

There wasn't much to the tune, and the lyrics seemed to consist of "International Rescue… Going Faster than the Speed of Light", but the rock 'n' roll rhythm was catchy and the way the tempo kept increasing was impressive. Ursula came to realise that, rather than competing against each other, the four brothers fed off each other's energies and were constantly encouraging each other to maintain the pace.

It was during a lull in the tune with only the piano replaying the introduction, giving the musicians a chance to regain their breath, that Jeff leant closer to Ursula. "Get ready," he whispered.

"Ready? Ready for what?"

The guitar and drum burst back into life and Jeff was on his feet, pulling Ursula with him.

Ursula had forgotten how much she'd enjoyed dancing. In his last few weeks of life Tommy hadn't been well enough to do anything energetic and since his death she had never had the inclination to go to any dances alone. She'd also forgotten what a good dancer Jeff Tracy was.

If his sons were surprised by their father's unexpected talent it didn't show in their music. Instead they increased the tempo even further and began calling out encouragement to the two dancers.

It was only when Ursula was beginning to think that she wouldn't be able to dance another step that the piece of music finished. Laughing, she and Jeff collapsed into their chairs and accepted the applause from those about them.

Ursula pulled her handkerchief out of her pocket and pretended to mop her partner's brow. "I haven't danced like that in years."

"Me neither," Jeff agreed. "In fact the last time I danced like that was…" his forehead creased in thought as he cast his mind back over the decades. "The Air Force dance the weekend before Lucille died." Then, before there was a chance for a pall to fall over proceedings, he leant forward. "Well, come on, Boys. You must have had enough of an intermission. What are you going to entertain us with next?"

"I'm beat," Gordon wiped his forehead on his sleeve. "You've done nothing, John. You can get your overgrown fiddle out and give us a song."

John's "overgrown fiddle" turned out to be cello and he proved himself to be every bit as talented as his brothers at his chosen instrument. Each of them took their turns on centre stage and impressed Ursula with their musicality and versatility. The concert eventually finished when Grandma declared that it was time for her to make lunch.

Jeff and Ursula were the last to leave the music room. "You've got some wonderful boys there, Jeff," Ursula told him. "You did a good job raising them."

"Thanks, but don't ask me how I managed to do it, even with Mother's help. I've got no idea how I managed to find enough hours to build up the business and give each of them the attention they deserved. Sometimes it was next to impossible when more than one of them had something vitally important for me attend in different parts of the city at the same time."

"They would have understood your difficulties, wouldn't they?"

"Usually; as they got older… But when I think how easily they could have gone off the rails, especially the younger ones. I've even worried about Scott at times, he really was lost without his mother… But we made it… Somehow."

"You made it because they had a good grounding and you're an excellent role model. I think they all admire and respect their father."

Jeff gave a shrug. "Sometimes…"

On her fourth day on Tracy Island, Ursula was starting to get used to the life of luxury. Apart from what she'd been shown two days earlier, she'd seen nothing out of the ordinary to link the Tracys to International Rescue.

It was breakfast time and the family was discussing the Daunston rescue. "Was it a tricky one?" Ursula asked.

Everyone looked to Scott to be International Rescue's spokesman. "We've had worse," he admitted. "The tricky part was that the roof wasn't very stable."

"I noticed," Ursula remembered. "I nearly got hit on the head by a bit of rubble."

John winked at her. "That could have been one way of negating the security hazard."

Ursula pretended to be affronted. "Charming! And I thought you loved me, John."

John placed his hands over his heart and gave a dramatic sigh. "I'll love you till the end of time, Cubby."

"It felt like you had hit me when you told me you'd recognised the boys," Jeff recollected.

"And you had the cheek to ask if I wanted money in return for my silence!"

"I'm sorry." Jeff Tracy actually blushed. "I overreacted."

"Yes, you did," Ursula scolded. "And, for a moment, Jeff Tracy, I was frightened of you."

"Frightened? Of me! Heck, Cubby," Jeff sounded genuinely regretful as he apologised again, "I'm sorry. It looks like I'll have to start practising my 'I don't know what you are talking about' look in case it happens again."

"There I was, sitting in your office, and I suddenly wondered just how International Rescue had managed to keep its secrets all these years," Ursula remembered. "And I began to imagine the worst."

Gordon leant closer. "We haven't told you, but we invite the miscreant here to the island, give them a good time and then, on the way home again, give them a lesson in skydiving without a parachute." He winked. "It's a highly effective way of getting rid of security hazards."

Ursula laughed and then looked across the table at the young man sitting there. "I can't believe that I didn't recognise you when you helped me, Virgil. You were the star turn at my wedding!"

Virgil looked up in interest. "I was?"

"What did he do?" Gordon asked. "Bang on the piano?"

"Virgil was the page boy," Ursula told him.

A grin spread across Gordon's face. "Page boy!"

"He looked so cute in his little tuxedo."

"Virgil?! Cute?!" Gordon stared at the brother in question. "I can't believe that. What did our page boy here have to do? Carry the ring?"

"Oh, yes," Ursula nodded. "He was so delightfully solemn about it all. This was a serious business and no one was going to get in the way of him doing his duty. However, once that duty was finished…"

Upon hearing a chuckle from Jeff, a snort from Scott, and a snicker from John, Virgil's face clouded over. "Oh… It was that wedding, was it?"

"There was only one," Jeff reminded him. "After what happened at Cubby's we weren't game enough to let you take part in anyone else's… Not that anyone asked."

"Why?" Gordon looked between the five of them finishing with Virgil. "What happened? What did you do?"

Ursula was watching Virgil who, despite his sturdy frame, appeared to be trying to shrink away to nothing. "Do you want to tell him what happened?"

"No."

"Would you rather I did it?"

"No."

"Ignore him, Cubby," Gordon pleaded. "Tell me!"

"Okay," Ursula ignored Virgil's groan. "Things went well at the beginning. Virgil led the way down the aisle, carrying his little cushion with the rings with his two big brothers on either side of him. He played his role perfectly, but I guess once he'd finished his part in the ceremony he got a bit bored."

"A bunch of adults repeating the things they'd said at the rehearsal earlier," Virgil remembered. "Of course it was boring."

"So, what did you do?!" Gordon pressed.

Virgil refused to say anything so Ursula continued telling the tale. "When the ceremony was over and it was time for Tommy and I to walk out of the church as husband and wife, the page boy had disappeared."

Jeff nodded. "No one had seen him walk back down the aisle. We looked under pews and behind curtains." He chuckled. "Cubby even checked that he hadn't crawled under her wedding dress."

Virgil looked horrified. "I wouldn't!"

"Then the organist remembered a small boy sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him listening to him play," Ursula recollected.

Gordon turned to his elder brother. "Typical. But where were you when everyone was looking for you?"

"Exploring."

"Exploring? Exploring where?"

"That's what we all wondered," Jeff said. "Then we heard these strange noises from behind the organ."

Virgil shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I wanted to see how it worked."

"Behind the organ," Gordon drawled. "I might have guessed."

"I tried to squeeze in to get him," Jeff remembered. "But there wasn't enough room. Next thing I knew, Scott's removed his jacket and is off to the rescue."

"Situation normal," Scott teased and earned himself a glare from his brother. "I still don't know how you managed to get up so high."

"Climbed, of course."

"All we could hear is Scott cajoling Virgil down, Virgil exclaiming about how great it all was and how far he could see, and the odd, distinctly unmusical, noise," Ursula said. "I think the church officials had their calculators out and were adding up the costs for damages."

"Your mother was practically having kittens when we heard you say, 'Catch me, Scott,'" Jeff added. "You sounded as if you were at the top of the bell tower."

"It wasn't that high," Scott informed them.

"Next thing we knew," Ursula continued, "this small, extremely filthy boy, with a grin as big as the Grand Canyon, positively erupted from behind the organ and ran over to his mother. Poor Lucille was trying to stop you from dirtying her gown while you were gabbling on about everything you'd found back there."

"You were covered in cobwebs and dust and your hair was stuck out at all angles…"

"The church should have given you a tip for doing their cleaning for them…"

Both Jeff and Ursula stopped talking at this point and grinned at each other.

"What?" Gordon asked. "What have you left out?"

"Well…" Jeff began slowly. "Up till this point the congregation had been pretty quiet. I guess they'd been enjoying the spectacle of us running around like headless chickens."

"Yes," Ursula agreed. "At that moment you could have heard a pin drop."

The pair of them burst out laughing.

Three of the younger men present looked at each other in mystification. The fourth wondered if he could crawl away and hide.

"What are you laughing at?" John asked. "I can't remember anything particularly funny."

"I remember people laughing," Scott said. "But I don't know why. I asked you," he pointed at his father, "and you said you'd explain later, except you didn't."

"Ah, the innocence of youth," Ursula giggled. "Picture the scene. We're in a church. Everyone's waiting quietly for the ceremony to finish. Jeff's trying to brush the dirt off Scott. Lucille's picking the cobwebs off Virgil. I think John was tracing the stars in the wood carvings on the altar. Tommy and I are trying not to laugh because we didn't want to hurt Virgil's feelings. The celebrant's looking at his watch because he had another wedding to officiate at. Then…" She looked at Jeff. "Do you want to tell them what happened next?"

Jeff grinned in reply. "No, you can."

"I don't care who tells us, just tell us!" Scott ordered.

"If anyone wants me, I'll be in Thunderbird Two's hangar," Virgil stated. He tried to rise but was held down by John and Gordon.

"It's not polite to leave the table until the guest does," John informed him.

"Go on, Cubby." Scott nudged her. "You tell us."

"Very well," Ursula agreed. "The room went quiet and…" she hesitated. "Maybe it would be better if your father told you."

"Why? It was all perfectly innocent," Jeff said.

"Cubby," Gordon whined. "This suspense is killing me."

"Come on, Cubby, John said. "Or else I shall never love you again."

"Well, I can't have that, can I?" Cubby giggled. "Okay… There was silence… Total silence... and then Virgil's little voice says, loud as anything in the church… 'I hope my organ's as big as his when I grow up…!' It brought the house down!"

It had the same effect on those sitting around the table. Even Virgil, who'd reddened at the revelation, couldn't resist cracking a smile.

"Are you going to tell Cubby if you got your wish?" John teased. He narrowed his eyes. "Or do you want us to?"

"I did get a big organ!" Virgil protested, trying to maintain some dignity. "I built one as a school project."

When he'd finally managed to get himself back under control Gordon looked at his older brother. "You're kidding?! You didn't honestly say that?!"

Virgil tried not to look embarrassed. "I had a toy keyboard, okay? I was thinking about that."

"Your mother was trying not to laugh while telling you that everyone wasn't laughing at you," Jeff informed him. "And Scott was trying to stick up for his little brother without knowing why everyone was laughing at him."

"Even the celebrant was finding it difficult not to laugh," Ursula recollected. "He kept on holding his book up to his face so we couldn't see it."

Gordon held his ribs, sore from laughter. "I wish I could remember all this."

"You weren't there," Virgil told him. "Fortunately."

"That's right," Jeff agreed. "You and Alan didn't join us until the end of the wedding breakfast. Your grandmother looked after you both so that none of my boys could disrupt the wedding." He gave his chestnut haired son a sideways glance and then ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Never mind, Virgil," Ursula chuckled as he combed it back into place with his fingers. "Everyone still talks about it at family functions."

"I'll bet." Virgil looked down at his hands. "I knew there was a reason why I always feel like I need a shower when I hear Mendelssohn's Wedding March."

"That's because you're always filthy," John picked up Virgil's hand and indicated the stains on them. "Grease and polar white paint. Didn't you wash before lunch?"

Virgil pulled his hand free. "Of course I did!" He scratched at the paint. "It sticks."

Jeff looked out the window. "It looks like it's going to be a nice day. We'll be able to use the pool and I promise not to let Scott launch Thunderbird One while you're trying out your new bathing suit."

"Jeff Tracy! You are determined to see me in my swimsuit," Ursula scolded.

"You're worried?" he asked. "I've seen you in less than that."

Ursula turned scarlet and John choked into his cup of coffee. "You've done what!"

"You weren't meant to," Ursula reprimanded. "That was a mistake."

"You're telling me. And it could have been very embarrassing all round."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Gordon begged. "Tell us what happened."

"No," Jeff said.

"Aww, come on, Dad."

"Fair's fair," Virgil claimed. "You've just embarrassed me, now it's your turn."

"This is your fault." Ursula glared at Jeff.

"Mine? You're the one who started reminiscing about your wedding. We don't have to say anything, Cubby."

"You can't drop a bombshell like that and then just leave our imaginations running wild," Scott exclaimed. "What happened?"

"He's right. If we don't say anything they'll imagine that it was a lot less innocent than it actually was." Ursula sighed and sat back. "Go on, Jeff…"

He took a sip at his coffee. "It was before I joined the astronaut programme and before your mother and I were married; in fact we weren't even engaged. It was a roasting hot day and Lucille suggested that we three go cool off on a picnic by the swimming hole by the river. She said it would be cooler under the trees."

"It wasn't," Ursula remembered.

"No, it wasn't," Jeff agreed. "It got so hot that the two ladies decided that it would be a good idea to go for a swim in the swimming hole."

Ursula nodded. "That was Lucille's idea too. The problem was we hadn't brought any swimming gear."

"You and Ma went skinny-dipping?" Virgil stared at Ursula.

"Not quite," Ursula told him. "We decided to retain some dignity. So we kept on our… you know."

"No… what?" Gordon asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Gordon!" Jeff growled.

Gordon's grin widened. "Don't worry. I'll ask Grandma later."

"Gordon," Jeff growled again.

"Your father was on leave from the Air Force, but he couldn't go swimming because he'd broken his arm…" The glance Ursula gave Jeff spoke of another untold story. "So your mother and I got undressed behind some bushes, where Jeff couldn't see us, and slipped into the water." She gave a contented smile. "After the heat of the day it was pure bliss."

"Lucille asked me to hang onto their clothes so that they wouldn't lose them," Jeff added. "The current was moving them downstream so I walked along the bank, following the two girls in the water and feeling very uncomfortable…"

"I'll bet," Gordon interjected. "We've just finished talking about Virgil's big organ and now we're on to yo…"

"Gordon." Jeff growled for a third time, glared at his son, and continued. "…Uncomfortable with the heat; especially under my cast. The sun was so hot that I decided to use your mother's dress as a kind of sunshade."

"Good idea," Scott approved.

"I thought so…" Jeff agreed, "until I climbed a little hill and saw what was on the other side around the bend in the river."

John leant closer. "And that was…?"

"My entire Flight doing an exercise." Jeff's sons burst out laughing as he explained. "They were practising water retrieval after the pilot had bailed out of a plane."

Scott nodded. "I remember doing that."

"So I'm there, holding two woman's dresses, using one as a sunshade, while the two girls are swimming, nearly naked, right into the middle of about 30 men… Most of whom they knew personally."

"Next thing we knew…" Ursula took up the tale, "Jeff came barrelling down the hill at about mach three, waving our dresses at us. Your mother and I thought the heat had got to him. Then he tripped up…"

"My legs got caught up in your clothes and my cast threw me off balance."

"And you ended up in the river beside us."

The Tracy boys burst out laughing again.

"I managed to keep my cast dry though, didn't I?"

"Which is more than could be said for our dresses."

"All the while your mother's yelling at me and asking me what did I think I was playing at and I'm trying to shush her up and explain what they were going to be swimming into."

"When we eventually realised what you were saying we were out of the water like a shot."

"Leaving me to struggle alone up a steep bank one-handed."

"We had more important things to worry about, like getting dressed in wet clothes, thanks to you."

Jeff leered at Ursula. "I notice that you'd both had fewer concerns about my seeing you undressed than you did about being seen by the rest of the Flight."

"Why do you think we left you to climb out alone? You had your arm in a cast and were soaking wet so we thought we were safe from your advances. Besides, there were no trees there and the current was too strong to swim back upstream, so we had no option."

"Then what did you do?" John asked.

"Walked back to where we'd left the picnic," Jeff said. "It was that hot that the three of us were dry by the time we got there."

"Hot and sticky," Ursula remembered. "The swim was a complete waste of time."

Jeff sat back and stared at the ceiling; a reflective expression on his face. "The whole disaster was Lucille's idea. It was about then that I decided that the only chance I had of maintaining some control over her would be if I were to marry her." He grinned at the group around the table. "It didn't work."

Ursula looked down at her dry, and now cold, slice of toast and, still in a playful mood, turned back to her host. "Pass me the butter, please, Dick."

"Ursula," he growled as he handed her the spread.

"Dick?" Scott looked at his father in interest. "Why Dick?"

"Ah… It's short for Dick Tracy," Jeff said.

"Dick Tracy?" Scott looked astounded. "As in the comic strip detective?"

Jeff tried to give a nonchalant shrug. "When I last knew Cubby I always liked to have a lot of gadgets about me. So did Dick Tracy. I guess it was logical that someone should decide that it would be a suitable nickname."

"I'm impressed!" Gordon's prankster brain had seen through the half-truth. "If I'd been as quick off the starting blocks as you were with coming up with that excuse, Dad, I would have won my Olympic heat. Now tell us: what's the real reason?"

"That's it, Gordon. Nothing special."

"Yeah, sure," John drawled. "Why'd you call him 'Dick', Cubby? It can't be any more embarrassing than that last story, can it?"

Eyes laughing, Ursula looked at her friend. "What do you want me to say, Jeff?"

"Nothing that could cause me to lose face in front of my children."

"Don't worry," Gordon teased. "Nothing could make 'your children' respect you any less than we already do… Dick." Jeff's subsequent expression and the butter knife pointed in his direction told him he was skating on thin ice.

"Come on, Cubby," Virgil pressed. "Why did you call him 'Dick'?"

"Well…" Ursula prevaricated. She glanced at Jeff who managed to convey a pleading expression in the briefest of glances. "Do you boys honestly think that your father would lie to you?"

"If he was trying to hide something especially embarrassing from us… yes," John said.

"Hands up all those who believe Dad's excuse," Gordon instructed. All hands remained down until Ursula, rather unconvincingly, raised hers.

Scott gave her a conspiratorial nudge. "You can tell us later when he's not around." He winked.

"No, she ca…" Jeff halted mid-speech when an alarm sounded.

Ursula was astounded by the way the atmosphere changed as all the Tracy men leapt out of their chairs and ran from the dining room. Curious, she followed them.

Having spoken to Alan in this manner two days ago, she wasn't surprised to see the family clustered around the video link from his portrait.

"How many corridors, Alan?" Jeff was asking.

"Six," Alan confirmed.

Jeff turned to his sons. "We're going to need The Mole and a full crew on this one."

"And the oxyhydnite," Scott added.

Jeff nodded his agreement. "You'd better get going, Scott. Radio through when you've got a plan of action worked out." His eldest hadn't even stepped up to the twin lamps when Jeff turned to his middle son. "How are the oxyhydnite tanks in Thunderbird Two, Virgil?"

"Full. I refreshed them last Friday."

"Good. Get going, Boys."

With a "F-A-B" the three remaining Tracy sons left the room.

Kyrano entered the lounge with a tray and placed a mug off coffee on Jeff's desk. This was clearly so much a part of the ritual of a rescue that Jeff didn't even acknowledge the other man, preferring to concentrate on Alan and the information that he was receiving from Thunderbird Five.

Ursula contented herself with sitting on one of the couches and watching proceedings. She was surprised when Kyrano returned with another cup of coffee and placed it on the table beside her chair. "For you, Mrs White."

Ursula smiled at him. "Thank you, Kyrano. Is this a typical rescue?"

He favoured her with one of his own gentle smiles. "For me this is a typical rescue. For the Tracys no rescue is typical."

"No," Ursula mused. "I guess not. Does Tin-Tin ever, ah, see 'active service'?"

She could see pride in the Malaysian's face. "She has had the honour of assisting International Rescue. She was on board Thunderbird Three during the Sun Probe rescue."

"Sun Probe!" Ursula gasped. "But didn't it nearly end in disaster? Don't you worry about her?"

"I worry; like Mr Tracy worries. But Mr Tracy has given much to myself and my Tin-Tin. It is an honour for us both to work for him."

A beeping noise came from the other side of the room and Ursula was surprised to see the eyes in Scott's portrait flash in time to the beeps. Jeff, however, took it in his stride. "Go ahead, Thunderbird One."

"I'm at the danger zone. The local fire services are struggling to contain the fire, but have succeeded in evacuating everyone from the buildings above ground. It's in the basement corridors that they need our help. As soon as Thunderbird Two gets here we'll start drilling. We can tackle two corridors with The Mole, but the other four we'll have to approach using the oxyhydnite cutters. I've already worked out The Mole's path and the optimum drop off points." Scott glanced off screen. "Here's Thunderbird Two now."

"Okay, Scott. Radio back when you're about to start drilling."

"F-A-B."

The portrait reverted back to its normal form and for a moment the stresses in the room settled down. Ursula took the opportunity to find out more about what had happened.

"Gas main explosion," Jeff said briefly. "An entire office block is on fire. They've managed to evacuate everyone except for fifteen people in the complex beneath the building…"

"Thunderbird Five to base."

Jeff's attention instantly switched back to his youngest son's portrait. "Go ahead, Alan."

"Report from Mole. They've started drilling."

"F-A-B," Jeff responded. "Keep in contact with them and keep me apprised of progress."

"F-A-B," Alan echoed and disappeared from the screen.

Jeff appeared to have forgotten that Ursula was in the room. He stared at his sons' photos on the wall and fiddled with a pen; clicking its nib in and out continuously. As a further visual representation of the stresses he was feeling, his shoulders were hunched up near his ears.

"Are you worried, Jeff?" Ursula asked.

He glanced around as if surprised to see her still there. "A little."

"I wouldn't be," Ursula tried to sound confident. "Don't forget, I've seen The Mole in action. And I'm living proof of how good it, and your sons, are."

"It's not The Mole I'm worried about," Jeff admitted. "Or, in the normal course of events, the boys. It's the oxyhydnite that worries me. When we were testing it, it knocked out both Scott and Virgil." At her concerned expression he hastened to reassure her. "It had no after effects and Brains discovered the cause and has added an attachment to the tanks so it won't happen again…"

"But you still worry," Ursula finished for him.

"Yes. I can't help it. Both Scott and Virgil were unaware that they were having any problems until afterwards. As far as they were concerned one minute they were cutting through a steel wall, the next they were waking up in the sickbay wondering what all the fuss was about." He gestured towards the portraits. "In this situation they're all going to be working alone. If anything happens to one of them, no one's going to know for a long time… possibly until it's too late. I have complete faith in all of Brains' inventions but…" he sighed and looked back at his friend. "I'm not only their commander, I'm their father."

Ursula stood. "I know." She stepped up to the desk. "Let me help you, Jeff."

He gave her a wry smile. "There's nothing you can do, Cubby."

"Yes there is." Ursula looked at the desk. One side was constrained by various bits of equipment and the other had a heavy looking table blocking the exit. "How do I get behind this thing?"

"You don't," Jeff told her.

"There must be some way," Ursula pulled at the portable table, which didn't move.

"Cubby. There's nothing you can do back here," Jeff protested.

Ursula leant on his desk and lowered her voice. "If you don't let me back there, Jeff, your sons will find out why half the town called you 'Dick' Tracy."

He stared back at her. "You wouldn't…"

Ursula gave a sly smile. "Oh, wouldn't I? I'm sure Gordon would love to know about the booby-trap his straight-laced father put in that playhouse…"

"My Flight spent hours rebuilding the playground and that booby-trap was to catch any vandals who were coming back to destroy all our hard work! Besides, at that hour the park was locked up so most respectable people couldn't get in. How was I to know the Chief of Police and the Mayor's wife were planning use the new playhouse for their illicit tryst?"

"I'll bet the lady in question never expected to be doused in permanent bright orange paint."

"That paint was intended to tag vandals, not her. That's why some of us spent the night on site, so we could remove the traps before the kids were let in the next day. And, I'll have you remember, Cubby, that I broke my arm serving the community!"

"You broke your arm tackling the Chief of Police."

"If he hadn't deserted his lady love and run away I would never have tackled him. I thought he was a criminal, not someone frightened of publicity. Remember he was a big man in the town…" Jeff scowled. "In more ways than one… We fell awkwardly: I think he'd been eating too many donuts…."

"Did you enjoy waiting in hospital under police arrest?"

Jeff's scowl deepened. "No."

"What were those charges again? Assault… Trespass…"

"Vandalism… Can you believe it? I did all that to stop vandals and they charge ME with vandalism! If the chief hadn't used his key to let themselves into the park that paint would still be in its bag, not splashed all over the inside of the playhouse!"

"And all over him and the Mayor's wife…"

Despite his bitterness at the memories Jeff managed a chuckle. "I wonder how she explained that away to her husband. Especially since he was due to have a meeting with a similarly decorated Chief of Police and the local press later that morning. The papers could have had a field day!"

"Probably why the charges were eventually dropped against you: to buy your silence… After you managed to convince your girlfriend to come and bail you out." Ursula favoured Jeff with an angelic smile. "I'm sure your sons would love to hear that this was the real reason why we went on that picnic… To cool your temper down."

"My first impressions were correct. You are into blackmail, Cubby."

"Then let me behind your desk."

"No. Besides, by the time they get home again you'll be more interested in asking them about the rescue rather than betraying me."

"Maybe…" Ursula pursed her lips. "Of course I could always spend the next few hours talking to your mother. I'm sure she'd love to hear how her precious son spent most of the night and part of the next day in a police cell…"

The desk began moving towards the ceiling and Ursula quickly stepped underneath. She laughed. "I wonder if those involved realise that that indignant young airman with the broken arm went on to become one of the richest men in the world?"

"I hope not. If anyone ever decides to write an unauthorised autobiography about me, that'll be one of the first things they'll publish." Jeff looked at Ursula askance. "Just what are you planning to do?"

"Help you relax." Ursula laid her hands on his shoulders and started making firm stroking motions across them. "Your muscles are as hard as iron, Jeff! If you're not careful you'll make yourself seriously ill."

The muscles beneath the shirt under her fingers were more pliable now and Ursula started to knead. Jeff grunted as her fingers bit in. "I told you, I'm not usually like this. It's the oxyhydnite..." Tin-Tin entered the lounge just in time to hear him give a low moan. "That feels so good, Cubby…." Startled and unseen, the younger woman hesitated until she heard him add. "I'd forgotten this particular skill of yours."

Tin-Tin turned and, on tip-toe, fled the room.

"Helping you relax, is it?" Ursula was asking.

"Uh, huh."

"I've lost count how often I did this to Lucille to try to keep her from stressing when that astronaut husband of hers was out in space," Ursula remembered. "It must have been hundreds of times, and that's not counting the back rubs I gave her when she was pregnant."

"I can see why she appreciated it," Jeff said lazily.

"Tommy used to enjoy my massages too. But towards the end of his life he seemed so fragile that I was scared to touch him… Feeling better?"

"Mmmnnn." Jeff's eyes were closed as his tension was massaged away. A beeping sound filled the room again and instantly he was back on alert. "Go ahead, Scott."

Not expecting the interruption, Ursula was slow to remove her hands from Jeff's shoulders and Scott's eyes narrowed a fraction when he saw her proximity to his father. But the younger man retained his professional demeanour. "John, Virgil, and Gordon are in position and I'm proceeding to rendezvous with the group trapped in corridor 1PB."

"Affirmative, Scott," Jeff acknowledged. "Report back to Alan as soon as you have everyone on board The Mole. Keep in contact with your brothers."

"F-A-B." Scott replied. His gaze rested on Ursula for a moment longer before he cut communications.

"More?" Ursula placed her hands back on Jeff's shoulders.

He patted her hand and looked up at her. "Thanks. But I'm okay now." He rotated his shoulders. "That feels great."

The desk was raised again and Ursula stepped out of its confines. "Well, I'm only here for a few more days, so you'd better make the most of it. If the boys want to make use of my services after they've finished this rescue, I'm more than happy to help," she flexed her fingers. "It's the least I can do after they saved my life. When do you think they'll be home?"

"If things go smoothly and there are no complications, I'd say after dinner."

"Okay. I'll expect to be mobbed then."

Jeff smiled at his friend. "I doubt it. They'll have to replenish supplies and ready their craft for the next rescue before they think about looking after themselves. Then they'll be mobbing their Grandmother's cooking."

"Well, it's not as if I've got to be up early in the morning. I don't mind waiting till late this evening."

"You may as well get your beauty sleep. Once they've eaten we'll have to have the debriefing and they can go on for hours."

"Debriefing?" Ursula looked at International Rescue's commander in interest. "Can I eavesdrop?"

Jeff shook his head. "Sorry, Cubby, but debriefings are strictly in-house. It's the chance for them to say if they have any issues with the equipment… or each other. And you know what they say about washing dirty laundry in public."

"I know. I understand. Will John still be going back to Thunderbird Five tomorrow?"

"We'll see how everyone's feeling after today. If possible we'll try to keep to schedule."

Grandma entered the room. "Lunch is ready in the dining room, Ursula, dear."

"Lunch?" Ursula looked at her watch. "It doesn't seem that long since breakfast. Are you coming, Jeff?"

"No. I'll wait here for their next report."

"We won't shift him from that desk until he knows his boys are coming home," Grandma said. "I'll bring you a plate of something, Honey."

"Thanks, Mother."

Ursula and Grandma were joined by Tin-Tin and the three women had an enjoyable afternoon gossiping about the world, fashion, and the Tracy men.

It was late in the afternoon when Jeff Tracy deserted his desk and appeared in the dining room. "Thought you'd like to know I've just received a report from Alan. They've rescued the last of the victims and are on their way back to the surface."

"Is everyone okay?" Grandma asked.

"They're all fine. Scott says he's starving, since he missed lunch."

Grandma laughed. "That boy would be starving if he'd eaten it."

"Any problems with the oxyhydnite, Jeff?" Ursula enquired.

"Nope. Everything worked perfectly. They're all feeling great…"

"But hungry," Tin-Tin added.

Grandma stood. "I'd better start thinking about dinner. What time do you expect them home, Jeff?"

"Late…"

It wasn't until the following morning when Ursula saw any of the Tracy boys and, yet again, she could discern nothing to connect them with International Rescue or the danger they'd put themselves in the previous day.

John was clearly in a melodramatic mood. "Well, this is it, Cubby. Parting is such sweet sorrow."

"But remember, John," Ursula played along, "absence makes the heart grow fonder. We shall be closer when we next meet."

"Think of me when you look at the stars?"

"Remember me as you while away your lonely hours."

"Until we meet again…"

"For Pete's sake, John!" Scott, sitting on the couch that would transport them to Thunderbird Three, had reached the end of his tether. "Will you come and sit down before I take Gordon instead."

"Take me?" Gordon squeaked.

"You know what happened last time we left him alone on Five," Scott continued. "We had to practically scrape him off the walls when we returned to collect him. And make several repairs to your 'bird…"

"Ah, if anyone wants me I'll be in the pool." Gordon prepared to desert the lounge. "No, let me amend that to if anyone wants me I'm nowhere to be found."

"Not a fan of space duty, is he?" Ursula asked as she watched the red-head flee down the exterior steps.

"Hates it," Virgil said. "Says it 'sends him around the bend', though I can't say that we've ever noticed the difference."

"Guess I'd better go before Alan starts banging off the walls too," John said. "See ya, Cubby." He gave her a farewell kiss before settling down beside his older brother.

"Goodbye, John. Have a safe flight."

"Next time you visit, make sure it's in the middle of the month when I'm dirtside so we can spend more time together."

Ursula smiled. "I'll try." She was briefly startled as the couch began descending into the floor, but then cheerfully returned all the air kisses that John was blowing at her.

"Since we've lost Gordon," Jeff said. "Will you mind taking over the launch, Virgil? I'll take Cubby to see it from up on the hill."

"Sure thing, Father. Radio through when you're in position."

---F-A-B---

"It's been great seeing Cubby again," John was saying to Scott. "I like her."

"Really?" Scott couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I'm sure we would never have guessed."

John laughed. "Aren't you glad we've caught up again?"

"Yeah, I am," Scott admitted. "She was great fun when we were kids and I'm glad to see she hasn't changed…"

---F-A-B---

Jeff and Ursula travelled in a cable car that went part way up the volcanic cone that topped Tracy Island. When they alighted Ursula found that she was able to look down on much of the home complex. "Where should I look?"

"Over by the Round House," Jeff pointed out the symmetrically shaped building. Then he raised his arm and spoke into his wristwatch. "We're in position, Virgil."

"F-A-B," the watch replied and Ursula heard Virgil open communications with the space craft. "Base to Thunderbird Three."

"Thunderbird Three," John replied.

"You are clear to launch."

"Thanks, Virgil. Be seeing you."

"See you in a month, John."

Ursula waited with bated breath. All of the space launches that she'd seen had involved huge numbers of people, gigantic pieces of machinery, a long countdown, and feverish activity. Instead she could see nothing and Jeff Tracy was so blasé about the whole affair that he'd found himself a flat rock to sit on and was making some notes into a personal digital assistant. "Where do I look again, Jeff?" she asked. "I don't want to miss it."

He chuckled. "No chance of missing her, Cubby. Thunderbird Three's 88 metres high."

"But shouldn't there be a launch pad or something?"

"There is, but it's concealed." A low rumble reached their vantage point. "Ah, here they come now." He slipped his PDA back into his pocket.

Ursula turned back to the 'Round House' and was astounded to see International Rescue's spacecraft appear to pass through the centre of the building. The flare from the rocket's jets blinded her momentarily and she blinked and looked away. When she looked back she found that she had to crane her head backwards to see what was now a dot in the sky. "Goodbye, John."

When all traces of Thunderbird Three had disappeared Ursula looked back down to where she'd first seen it. "Was it an optical illusion or did that Thunderbird fly through the centre of the building?"

"Told you it was concealed," Jeff grinned. "You'd never expect to find a spaceship in the middle of a house, would you?"

"I certainly didn't. I can see why Scott said launching Thunderbird One wasn't as hair-raising." Now Ursula took the opportunity to look around her. For miles beyond Tracy Island's margins, apart for a few rocky isles, there appeared to be nothing but ocean. "I can see why you chose to base International Rescue here."

"It suits us," Jeff agreed. "Sometimes the isolation causes problems, but we could never have operated out of anywhere closer to habitation."

"What's the nearest piece of land?"

"There's a few uninhabited islands scattered about."

"So I see," Ursula indicated one on the horizon.

"That's Mateo. We use it for construction purposes, and for storage if we can't land the Thunderbirds on Tracy Island for whatever reason."

"You own that island too?"

"I own quite a bit of land," Jeff confessed.

"I can't get used to the idea of your having money, Jeff Tracy," Ursula admitted. "When I think what a struggle you had trying to keep your wife and five children fed and clothed..."

"Believe me, having adequate finances came as a surprise to me too," Jeff grinned. "Shall we go down? We could take the cable car, but the walk's nice on a day like today."

Ursula agreed to take the path. "It'll help get rid of some of the extra inches your mother's cooking has added to my waistline."

"Nothing wrong with your figure, Cubby."

"Flirt."

They descended slowly, chatting easily in the manner of old friends, before they came to a tricky section. "Looks like that last lot of rain washed out the path," Jeff said. "I'll get the boys up here to repair it later. Hang on…" He jumped down and then reached back up. "Let me help you."

Ursula allowed Jeff to grasp her about the waist and then, with his support, she too jumped down onto a handy rock…

It was at that moment that Ursula White felt what seemed to be a bolt of electricity pass through her body…

To be continued…