Everyone was assembled in the lounge, all rescue workers anyway. The women of the island, including baby Janna, were all sound asleep in their rooms. Kyrano was busy in the kitchen. The smell of roasting Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee beans was wafting through into the lounge, making Virgil breathe deeply through his nose. He sat slouched beside Gordon, the pair of them having been rudely parted with their own beds. Scott was seated to their right, fully dressed. He had been awake for hours. Alan had his head in his arms, not even bothering to pretend he was listening.

Virgil saw Gordon's tired amber eyes regarding him sympathetically. "I hope this isn't what I think it is."

Virgil watched his flicked over to his husband's portrait, where his gaze was greeted with a smile. Rob was wide awake and ready to relay the news from over the video feed. Virgil felt his guts churn in anticipation. He could see his father felt it, too. It was just like last time.

"It's the exact same pattern as before, I'm afraid," said Robert, looking down gravely at the information printed before him and CCTV live feed, "The vehicle is identical to one that was in communication with the previous attackers. The area is residential and densely populated. Another worry is that they are completely blocking me from listening in on any transmissions, no matter what I do."

Jeff turned his head sharply to look at Brains, who was standing on the left of his desk, "I want you on that, need to hear if they're planning anything before we take action ourselves."

"I-I'll see what, uh, I can do, Mr Tracy," said Brains as he started to leave the lounge, no doubt to head for his lab.

The whole family listened to the news with growing dread. There had been two recent attacks in London involving car bombs, causing widespread damage in the city and thirty-one fatalities. International Rescue had been needed the second time as there were a couple of buildings that needed stabilising in order to allow a full evacuation. It was only then that an attempt to break into Thunderbird One had been noticed by Robert, yet before they could apprehend the culprit they had fled, lost in the chaos. Jeff was hopeful that it had nothing to do with the attacks in the city, but it had rattled them all.

The first person Virgil looked at after the news was Scott, as always. Something about these attacks was affecting his older brother deeply. He could tell under his neutral expression that his teeth were grinding. His skin was pale. Then again, if someone had tried to break into his 'Bird, he would be feeling murderous too. He then looked to his father and saw a familiar determined look cross his features as the wheels in his brilliant mind turned.

Virgil sighed, disgusted. They were no strangers to terrorism or threats, it's part of what they did. They were a peacekeeping organisation and the fact that people were potentially exploiting that to lure them out was both sickening and infuriating.

"What can we do, Virgil?" said Jeff kindly, as if reading his thoughts, "No matter what threat there is to us we have to answer."

"Of course, Father," said Virgil sadly, leaning forward in his chair, "It's the fact that innocent people are at risk because someone wants to get at us."

"Now, it's only a possibility," said Jeff, "There's no solid proof. Robert, I assume you've notified the British security services?"

"Yes, the Metropolitan police have their eyes on the vehicle," said Robert, "They're getting prepared to scan it and organise evacuations if necessary. They are curious as to why International Rescue are notifying them of this, though. It's not exactly in our job description. International Crime Watch."

Jeff gave a weary smile. "I'm sure they are. At least they're taking the information seriously. We'll keep quiet about our reasons for as long as we have to. Contact us as soon as you have more information."

Jeff's dark eyes scanned the room slowly. His gaze settled on Gordon but he addressed the whole room, "If this goes the way I think it will, you'll all be needed..."

He stopped short as a familiar soft pad-pad-pad noise approached from outside the room. It was just little Janna, crawling along the floor.

"Hey, baby," Alan said softly, his exhausted face lighting up, "Where's Mommy?"

She stopped to regard her father, uncles and Grandpa with her big, green eyes. She raised an acknowledging hand, yelled "Ba!" then resumed her determined crawling across the room.

"'Carry on, don't mind me'," Gordon translated, grinning.

"As I was saying..." said Jeff, his eyes following his granddaughter as she wandered past the front of his desk, "It's likely all of you will be needed out there."

There were several nods of agreement from all his sons, all except Alan, who was looking troubled. His eyes were on his daughter as she sat on the floor, trying to pull herself up against a couch.

"What do we do if they..." Alan asked, "If someone tries to take Thunderbird One again?"

This time Scott answered automatically, turning a stern gaze on his youngest brother, "You follow the procedure, Alan. At all times, the priority is to protect yourself and those around you. Use force to stop them only if it's safe to do so."

"Scott's right," said Jeff, "Brains has installed many devices that can hinder a potential thief. Even if they failed, a Thunderbird is a machine that can be replaced."

He didn't speak aloud what they all knew - you four can't be replaced. After John's death, so sudden and unexpected, it wasn't just Jeff that had gained a lot more grey hairs and wrinkles. Virgil exchanged looks with all his brothers, the silent unspoken agreement passed between them all. No more death.

Kyrano entered the lounge and was welcomed like a holy figure, for he was bearing a tray of coffee, sweet as nectar of the gods. Everyone took a mug and started milling out of the room. All except Virgil, Scott and Jeff.

His thoughts darkened by the potential attack, Virgil stood up to approach Scott, but one look in his eyes told him 'not now.' Rethinking his route, he casually bypassed his brother to sit at the piano. He wanted to keep working on a composition he'd made for Robert.

He worked through the cord progression slowly, feeling himself relax. He started humming along in his rich baritone. It wasn't often he sang to compositions, but this one was begging for it. He had no lyrics yet, just a basic tune.

After a couple of practices he noticed Scott was humming along with him in his rough but well-pitched tenor, harmonising softly. It was so quiet that Virgil had to strain to hear it, knowing his big brother would be extremely embarrassed to be caught singing. Little did he know that more than once he had left the comms on while flying in One, leaving Virgil with the secret knowledge that his brother had the potential of a decent singing voice, with a bit of tutoring.

Once he finished playing through the piece for the third time, Scott turned to look at him. There seemed to be a bit more light, an echo of his old spirit, in his face.

"That sounds beautiful, Virg."

"Thanks."

Before Virgil could touch the keys for another practice, his husband's portrait bleeped and his image appeared on the screen. The shocked sadness in his pale blue eyes informed Virgil of everything he needed to know. He saw his father take a deep breath at the desk, already formulating a plan of action.

"We were right," Robert sighed regretfully, "You should switch on the TV. It's bad."

Jeff hit the island alarms first to summon Alan and Gordon before he did so. The sight that met them on the television screen was one of utter devastation. The news was broadcasting am aerial shot of live pictures from London. There were people fleeing in all directions, with emergency service vehicles scrambling to get through. One of the residential buildings had already collapsed and another was ablaze.

Virgil heard the running footsteps if his brothers cease behind him. Alan swore bitterly under his breath. It was completely justified cursing but it still made Virgil flinch. The Tracys don't care much for swearing.

"One explosion couldn't have done all that damage. We need to get out there," said Jeff, "Be careful. Thunderbirds are go!"

Gordon and Alan briskly walked past Virgil to meet him in TB2. He smiled to himself as he strode to the painting at the end of the lounge that would take him to his 'Bird, knowing that the second they were out if sight his two little brothers would begin sprinting in their obligatory competition to get on Thunderbird Two first. He felt that for every two out of three times this happened, Gordon normally won.

He was just about to turn his back on the painting, when movement on the floor made him stop short. Sitting at the base of the portrait, pleased as punch, was Janna. His little niece grinned up at him, showing all her six white teeth.

"Vuh-doh? Vuh-doh?" she asked, ever so politely.

"Not until you're at least eighteen, honey," said Virgil warmly, his grin wide as he scooped up his little buddy and deposited her into her grandfather's waiting arms.

Jeff laughed as his niece gave a yell of protest, "I forgot how fast they learn. Wave, Janna."

Wasting no time, Virgil pressed his back to the painting and pressed the button that would tilt him horizontal. Just before he slid backwards down the chute to his 'Bird, he looked down at Janna's bright face and waved goodbye.

If you're curious about that kind of thing, the song Virgil is composing is 'End of All Things' by Panic at the Disco.