Hidden Identity Chapter 2, a thunderbirds fanfic

Disclaimer: see chapter one

AN: Many thanks to Little Miss Bump for beta reading this.

Chapter Two

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)

Subject: What and when?

Of course this will be the last time I contact you, John.

Anyway, my aunt's in hospital. The old croak's in a coma and some neighbour chick wants me there to look after the batty woman's pets.

I've seen her will. If she carks it, eighty percent of her seventy-five thousand dollar estate and assets come to me, while the other twenty percent go to some pointless animal cruelty charity. We wouldn't want a change in the percentiles if she finds out her darling nephew Sebby didn't rush to her bedside when he found out, would we?

And I can't go. Not that I would, even if I could. But, I have a three week long date in Key West with the latest supermodel, Lenora. You know the one on the cover of Cosmo? Yeah, I scored my vacation with her.

You do this, and it wipes out that debt you owe me.

Seb.

To: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: I'd forgotten you were such a jackass…

Your aunt's in a coma and you're leaving New York to holiday in Key West with your latest conquest?!

That's cold, Freelancer. Real cold.

Oh, wait, I forgot. You were the guy who was willing to let someone die instead of giving them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation just because they had the misfortune of walking in front your moving car. You were lucky the ambulance came that fast. Otherwise you'd be in jail for manslaughter.

However, I will pretend to be you, because facing the alternative is not an option. I would rather continuously kiss a venomous snake than remain in debt to you.

John.

To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: The favour

It's impersonation.

I guess it's not too bad, considering this is coming from Seb Freelancer, but still. It's impersonation.

And it's not even for a go

Gotta go. Urgent rescue call coming in from Bolivia. Sounds like there's a collapsed mine. Good luck there.

John.

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

Subject: Why do I get…

…a really bad feeling about this? Seriously John, it can only go downhill from now on.

By the way, the mail plane came today. You've got a letter from the American Astronomers Society. It looks important.

Now, I've gotta go. The watermelon on steroids is back, and I've got to attend the mission debrief and check on Virgil and Alan.

Scott.

To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: Forget about the favour…

Tell me about the rescue!

Wait… what's wrong with Virgil and Alan?

And would you mind opening the letter for me? It might be the annual astronomer's lecture details. I'd like to see it even though I'm coming down tomorrow.

Send me back some info soon. I'm getting restless up here.

John.

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Virgil Tracy (pianofingers_fms. com)

Subject: Take a chill pill, Space Case

Hey, Johnny boy, relax. Scott told me you were panicking over us. Well, here's the low down.

Alan is fine, except for some lower back muscle spasms. He'll be fine with the aid of a heat pack and muscle relaxant.

Gordon is behaving like he's ninety-nine percent fish, and is swimming laps in the pool.

I've been better, but I'm OK. Just like Scott.

So relax, watch those stars you love so much while you still can before Scott and Gordon pick you up tomorrow. Al's not allowed to go because of his back. Keep all the sharp objects and your prized possessions locked away in a safe place; Gordon's gonna hate being stuck up there for a month. XD

See you when you're dirt side.

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

Subject: Restless Cure

Attachment: John's Letter from the AAS

Alleviate your boredom by reading the attachment. You were right; it is the details for the lecture.

And I'm betting Virgil sent off an e-mail to you saying that we're all OK. I'm also willing to bet that our medial maestro neglected to mention that he had inhaled copious amounts of dust and grime, and that his airways are slightly swollen. He'll be OK, though, so don't worry. There was another minor collapse in the mine while Virgil was crawling out. His helmet filter function malfuntioned after being smashed with debris. Brains is looking at it now, so he should be able to find the problem and improve on it.

So, you ready to come back down from the ivory tower? Gordy and I will be up there sometime in the morning.

Scott

PS. Dad wants to talk to you when you're down here. Thought I'd give you a heads up.

To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: Get some sleep, Flyboy

Hey, thanks for scanning and sending the details. The lectures are occurring over three weeks, which works out good for me.

Now, I just have to persuade Dad to let me have three weeks shore leave. That's going to be hard.

Get some sleep, Scott. It's nearly eleven thirty in the night, and I don't want to have to fly back with a half asleep co-pilot. Or one that drinks endless cups of coffee to keep him awake.

See ya tomorrow.

John.

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Seb Freelancer (cameraman_hotshotphotos. com)

Subject: Recap plus more

So, all you have to do is fly over to New York in three days, and pretend to be me for three weeks.

It shouldn't be too hard, now. You should be able to pull it off, since I look very similar to you. Remember, I came first in a 'John Tracy Look-alike' contest.

By the way, you'll need to stay in my aunt's flat, just in case the neighbour comes and checks in on the pets like a weirdo.

And while you're pretending to be me, can you please dress with some style and panache? None of the 'I just walked out of Target after buying and wearing the cheapest jeans and t-shirt I could find' look. I do have a reputation to look after, you know.

Anything not from Gap, Target, Walmart or any other store like that is fine. Anything designer will do. Gucci, Armani, Calvin Klein… you know the score.

And for the love of God, please invest in a leather jacket while you're me. It would make you, sorry, I meant me, look so good.

Seb.

PS. Here's her e-mail address. The neighbour, not my aunt. It's jmackenzie_nyeditor. com. I've sent her an e-mail telling her I (meaning you) would be there within three days. And introduce yourself. Wait, I meant me. Introduce me. Then she'll know "I'm" there.

To: Alan Tracy (speedfreak_fms. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: TI Rounds

Al, do you have the Mars Tours component papers for Tracy Industries business? If you do, can you please send them to me ASAP? I want to travel as light as possible, so I'm not carrying a stack of papers with me.

Dad's sending me over to New York, since I'm planet side, in the afternoon to continue talks and seal the deal. So, any info you have would be great.

How's the back, by the way? Virg told me you screwed it up slightly. Keep that heat pack on. I know you'll have likely discarded it by now.

John.

PS. I've had four frantic calls from Gordon already. He's complaining about the water rationing on Five. A talk with his favourite brother might calm him down. Just a thought.

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Alan Tracy (speedfreak_fms. com)

Subject: Happy Reading

Attachment: Mars Tours Zipped

Hey John,

I've attached the reading material you wanted. Have fun wading through that sea of sheets.

Seriously, there are over three hundred pages in this e-mail. Do you want me to summarise it for you?

The back's fine, thanks for asking. It wasn't such a big deal in the first place.

So, you off to New York? I wish you luck with all the board meetings and talks you'll have to handle. Not to mention the writers cramp you get after you sign endless pieces of paper.

Best of luck John. And see you when… if you come back alive. ;-)

To: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

From: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

Subject: So???

What did Dad want? And did he give you shore leave?

Spill it, buster.

To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: Buster spills

Yes and no for the shore leave.

And all Dad wanted was to discuss me going over to NYC for the Mars Tour deal. He says I'm the most qualified person and he wants me to determine whether he's making a good investment or whether he should pull out. Apparently the CEO of Mars Tours will only hold a meeting face-to-face in a boardroom, so video conferencing was out of the question.

Anyway, he gave me three weeks shore leave for said commitment without me having to ask for it. Which works out well for me, since, well, you know where I'm going with this.

Signing off now. I have to prep the plane before I leave this arvo. I'll e-mail you when I'm there.

John.

To: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)

From: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)

Subject: The Elusive Mr. Freelancer

Lara, you'll never guess what I just received.

It's an e-mail from the elusive Mr. Freelancer. He says he's managed to catch an earlier flight, and should be in New York late this evening. I'm actually going to meet Seb Freelancer.

I'm really nervous now. Is that normal?

Anyway, I'll tell you what happened tomorrow, 'kay?

Jade ;-)

To: Jade Mackenzie (jmackenzie_nyeditor. com)

From: Lara Sadlinsokov (lsadlinsokov_nyeditor. com)

Subject: You'd better tell me what happened…

Every single detail. From what he wore to what he looks like. Enough information so that I can Google him and get a police check on him to make sure he's not a mass murderer or something like that.

And don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Things like that happen in the big bad city.

Lara oxo

To: Scott Tracy (flyboy101_fms. com)

From: John Tracy (spacecase_fms. com)

Subject: Space Case in trouble…

Flyboy, Space Case is in big trouble.

So, I land in New York, a little behind schedule, and start to wade my way through the mountains of paperwork Dad hade collected for me. At eight, I decide to call it a night, and head over to Freelancer's apartment, so I can get this favour done and out of my mind.

You'll never guess who I met.

Jade.

The neighbour.

She's a brunette with amazing eyes.

Help!

AN: please review.