Scott had spoken with John after leaving the Arts Centre and John had told him that the Lichtenstein exhibition was at the Shillam Art Gallery so he decided to take a look there for want of any other ideas.

As he walked through the rooms he wondered what he was hoping for. To find Virgil lost in thought in front of one of the images? When Virgil had visited him at Yale, Scott had bought tickets to take him to baseball or basketball games but soon found that his brother was just as happy meandering through the University Art Gallery and Scott came to enjoy learning about a world he otherwise wouldn't have given much time to. He very much valued his relationship with Virgil, enjoying both their similarities and differences. A world without him would be a poor one indeed and not one he wished to contemplate.

John shook him out of his reverie by contacting him to let him know that he had finally tracked down Virgil on CCTV leaving the Shillman Gallery shortly before it closed the previous day. That was the good news. The bad news was Virgil had almost immediately descended into one of the new city underground stations and John had not been able to pick him up again.

Scott investigated the metro station and it seemed that Virgil could have taken a train either in the direction of the old docks or out into the suburbs. Scott had a fifty-fifty chance of choosing the right direction.

Minutes later he was on a train heading for the suburbs. He examined each station stop to see if there was something that might have caught Virgil's eye and eventually left the train at a station that had an interesting mural of Australian cultural highlights created by local students.

Scott soon found himself wandering through the residential community enjoying the peace compared to the city centre. It was by now mid-evening, with lights coming on inside the houses. As he walked he couldn't help but glance through the windows of those houses whose curtains were not yet drawn. He saw people relaxing after a day's work, some sharing dinner, others flaked out in front of the TV. Children in pyjamas were winding their parents up before bed in one lounge while next door a middle-aged lady was bent over some embroidery, deep in concentration.

Scott had forgotten what his hobbies were. The trouble with being in International Rescue was he kinda lived above the shop and down time was rare. When he was out on a rescue it was full on and he was completely occupied. Back at base he would be cleaning, preparing and maintaining equipment for the next rescue. Or training with his brothers. Or reviewing past rescues to help future ones. Or testing one of Brains's new ideas. Or discussing Tracy Corp with his Father. And if he sat down on a sun lounger or started to watch a movie it wasn't long before he started to feel guilty about his inaction and found a reason to get up again.

He thought back to the dream that had woken him this morning. It was very similar to dreams he had had at Yale in the run up to his final exams. Then the dream had been about not getting to an exam on time because he couldn't run fast enough. He had mentioned it to a friend who told him the dreams had probably been caused by having too much on his plate and constantly working but that was normal at a university like Yale.

Maybe he should be kinder on himself and try and relax a bit after a rescue. Alan played computer games and Gordon did something water related and he never chastised them for it. Maybe he should play the piano more often like Virgil and lose himself in the music and his more settled mind would perhaps then give him an easier night's sleep. Not that he would get a good night's sleep until he found wretched Virgil….

A little way ahead of him he saw a young lad about 11 or 12 years old sitting on a low wall with his head in his hands. Curious, Scott looked closer as he approached and could see despair in the boy's body language. Momentarily distracted from thoughts of his brother, Scott approached the boy.

"You okay, buddy?"

The lad looked up, clearly trying to hide a tear. "Not really."

Scott crouched down next to him. "Can I help?"

"I lost my dog. I just can't find him anywhere and my mum says I gotta be in for bed in half an hour and I just don't know where else to look." The boy gave a huge sigh and Scott really felt for him.

"Tell me what happened from the beginning and I'll see if I can come up with an idea."

The boy gave him a look as if he was unused to adults being useful and then obviously decided that he had nothing to lose.

"My Dad's doing some building work on the house. He was bringing stuff through from the truck into the back yard and a pile of bricks fell out of the wheelbarrow. I think the noise must have scared Scooby and the back gate was open and he took off. I've searched and searched and I can't find him."

"Does he usually come when you call his name?"

"Always, first time. He's a black Labrador and I trained him really well."

"Good for you. Okay, so Scooby may have been frightened but if he heard you searching and calling his name he probably would have come to you, yes?"

"Yes."

"So that either means he's too far away to hear or he's got himself in a bit of trouble. You've got 30 minutes, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, how about I help you do a grid search?"

The boy look worried. "My mum says I shouldn't go off with strangers."

"And your mum is right and the idea is you go one way and I go the other. Show me on this bit of dirt how the roads around here are laid out." He handed the boy a stick and he drew a rough map.

"Okay you start here and go along here and I'll start here and walk along here and we'll be walking towards each other. I'll make a guess that you've been running here, there and everywhere shouting Scooby's name, am I right?"

"Yeah, but I can't find him."

"This time we walk slowly. We shout Scooby's name and then stop for a moment. As well as using your eyes use your ears. Stop, listen, and take in your surroundings. When you're sure you can't hear or see any sign of Scooby walk a little further along the route."

"And if he's trapped I might hear him? Worth a go, I guess."

"Okay. Can you whistle really loud?"

The boys proudly demonstrated a whistle that vibrated Scott's eardrums.

"Wow...great. Okay, if either of us finds Scooby we whistle to the other. Let's do it."

The two got to their feet and headed their separate ways. For the next 20 minutes Scott searched for the missing dog. It made a change from looking for Virgil. Perhaps he'd find them both? Perhaps not. He then heard some frantic whistling and started to jog towards the sound. He found a small park and the frantic whistling came again. He pushed through some bushes at the edge of the park and found the boy sitting next to his dog.

An old wire fence, half on its side, had trapped the dog's leg. Crashing through the undergrowth, Scooby must have stepped on the meshed metal and his paw had slipped through a rusty opening. As he had tried to pull his leg out, the bent, jagged wire had caught against the leg making it too difficult and painful to get free. Scott dropped down next to them.

"He's bleeding!" said the boy.

"Looks like he got his paw wedged in there and can't pull it out. It's okay, Scooby, soon have you free. Bet it hurts, boy."

Scooby appeared to whine an affirmative. Scott quickly assessed the situation.

"Okay, you need to reassure him and I'll just try and lever his leg out," said Scott searching round for a stout stick. The boy muttered soothing words to Scooby and buried his face in Scooby's fur. Scott eased a stick into the hole making it larger and gently eased the paw out. Scooby gave a yelp of astonishment and then proceeded to lick the wound.

"There we go," smiled Scott, satisfied.

"Scooby!" said the boy delightedly.

"He's cleaning the wound himself but it should probably get checked out by a vet. I'll carry him if you can show me the way to your house."

Five minutes later Scott standing on the boy's doorstep, Scooby in his arms, as the boy dragged his Mum and Dad outside, excitedly telling the tale.

"….and we did a grid search and I heard Scooby whining and the man got his leg out of the fence and…" The words were coming out in a rush. Scott handed the dog over to the Dad.

"There you go. He's just got some wounds on his leg. The fence was pretty rusty so I recommend you take him to a vet. And you, young man, could use some of your pocket money to put a tracker on his collar. That way you'll always be able to find him if he goes missing."

Suddenly Scott's troubles weighed down on him again. Damn, Virgil! He had a tracker on him too but it had turned out to be useless. What the hell had gone wrong? Scott realised that the Mum was talking to him.

"…come in for a beer?"

"Oh, no thanks, I must be off."

"Scott, have you said thank you?" With a jolt Scott realised that the young lad had the same name as him.

"Thank you for helping me find my dog," said little Scott, sincerely.

"No problem, kid. Maybe someday you'll be able to help find someone else's lost dog now you're an expert. Say, do you have a brother?"

"A little one called Ethan."

Big Scott ruffled little Scott's hair affectionately. "Stick a tracker on him too, okay?"

And with that he walked off in the direction of the station, unaware that little Scott and his family were staring after him.

As he neared the station Scott raised his wrist.

"Scott to John"

"Have you found him?"

Scott sighed. "No. I've found a whole bunch of other stuff but not Virg. How's it going your end?"

"Nothing so far. His name is not appearing on any data I search and his ugly mug isn't appearing on any of the cameras."

"I don't get it, John. Searching for lost people is what we do. Why is this so hard? On a rescue I don't have a problem with coming up with a plan but searching for my own brother seems impossible. I'm just wandering around like an idiot."

"Don't beat yourself up about it. It's not like the rest of us have come up anything either."

"We should have some coherent strategy to work to, not this ad hoc blundering around in the dark. Talking of which, can you get me a hotel room for the night? If I don't come up with anything this evening then I'll keep at it tomorrow."

"Way ahead of you. I've booked you into the Metropolitan. I thought you might want to hang around." John tried not to look smug.

"Mind reader, huh?"

"I saw it in the stars. Look, we're all emotionally involved in this particular rescue. I don't think that helps the decision making progress. Get yourself to the hotel. When you're in this sort of mood a bit of sleep usually does the job. In the morning Virgil will either be contacting us like nothing happened or we'll be clear-headed enough to come up with your precious strategy."

"You know, if one of the babies talked to me like you are right now I'd give them a smack," replied Scott humourlessly.

John grinned. "I know. But for one I'm not Gordon or Alan and two I'm way, way up in space and you can't reach me."

"Smart ass. Thanks for the room, though, appreciate it." .

"Catch you later."

With John gone, Scott started to up his pace. John was right; all that was needed was a change in attitude. A bit of luck wouldn't go amiss either.

And, unknown to Scott, on the other side of the city, their luck was about to be on the upswing.