Birds of Plague
Chapter 8

Time passed.

Seasons changed.

High above the Pacific Ocean, clouds were torn apart as an aircraft took to the skies, shock waves burst from behind as the craft accelerated beyond what she had been able to before, sonic booms roaring through the skies as it was pushed to its limits, flying around and through the growing storm clouds high in the atmosphere.

It shot out of the black clouds lightning flashing behind it as the storm began to rage.

Gone were the bright and welcome colours on the once beautiful flagship, colours that have once brought hope with its arrival, now any sight of the legendary craft brought nothing but death and destruction, the hatches hiding new armament hidden from view as she lowered down to just feet above the grey storm blown ocean.

The waters tore apart, mirroring the clouds above as the craft races across the ocean surface speed pouring out of her new engines.

Thunderbird One, the supersonic flag ship of International Rescue was being pushed to its new limits, at the touch of a button her guns sliding out to shoot at rocks standing up from the water turning them into dust before disappearing back into the hidden alcoves inside its sleek design. The thickened and dull tinted armour plating slipped back over the ship's new arsenal, even with the weapons now hidden, it was still evident that this was no rescue ship, not anymore.

The pilot remained alert as his craft flew through the dust cloud the rocks had created as he had shattered them, "Thunderbird One to base, first weapons test nominal." He reported, his voice cold and emotionless.

Once upon a time just being in his craft, being in Thunderbird One, would bring him unspeakable happiness. To fly such a craft was beyond the dreams of many on the Earth, but now he knew that his job... no... his mission had changed as much as the rescue craft had.

"Roger, Targets set up on the Northern Beach" Base replied. "Test routine two ready when you are."

Thunderbird One dumped speed as she swung around in a wide arc lining up with the distant island on the horizon, engaging the flaps the aircraft slowed as she moved into the turn, hovering in place the powerful engines created a downdraft sending droplets of water flying into the air covering the underside of the powerful vessel. With a push of the throttle she accelerated hard, passing through Mach One as she closed with the island, unconcerned the pilot activated the weapons array, the cannons once again slipping out of their armoured casement.

"Approaching Northern Beach" The pilot reported, "Targeting system online, ready to fire!"

"You are cleared for attack run."

"Attack run beginning."

A low hum filled the cockpit as the weapons warmed up, flexing his fingers the pilot curled them around the unfamiliar triggers on the control sticks, closing fast he watched as the highly advanced multi-frequency scanners locked onto the row of targets set up in almost random clusters along the beachside. Without hesitation he unleashed laser fire into the closest, the weapon mounts tracking each group as he passed, smashing into the wooden targets disintegrating them, leaving nothing behind.

"Targets destroyed, all systems are green" The pilot replied voice steady and as unfeeling as the rocks he had turned to dust, he turned Thunderbird One on a long curve around the island waiting for his next orders.

"Roger that, return to base for debriefing"


The hanger of Thunderbird Two, once the most organised hanger under the island was now a disorganised chaos, coils of pipes lay around the green transport vehicle, scaffolding and exposed wires covered almost every inch of her surface, while there was large technical drawings and blueprints pinned up on various boards around the hanger. The sight brought back bad memories for those who saw the state of the hanger, only a few years prior, Thunderbird Two had similarly been in pieces after the fiasco with the USN Sentinel.

Older components and hull bracing from Thunderbird Two could be seen as they were stripped down and discarded while new parts were being assembled on various benches scattered around the hanger. Scraps of metal were everywhere amongst the scattered tools, stripped from the now bare hull of the huge vessel, new high density fleetonium alloy sheets standing to the side of the hanger ready for use, the super-hard armour had already been used on the reconstruction of her sister vessels, now it was her turn.

Buried amongst oily rags and the remains of a torn up set of overalls, a stereo could be heard blaring out music cutting through the silence that rang in the air between the brothers as they continued the redesign of Thunderbird Two. Scott and Virgil worked around each other like clockwork, only interrupted on those few occasions when Brains appeared in the hanger with his adjust the blueprints or to check progress, ears usually covered by industrial earmuffs.

Their resident genius looked as worn out as any of them, his already slender frame and pale skin had become more so, circles under his eyes almost black against his sallow features and the gaunt figure showing the amount of weight the man had lose. With the construction of the new Thunderbird craft, trying to help with finding a cure for the plague that had ripped across the world and now helping the Tracy Family to try and keep the planet in one piece he had found little time for himself, what was more he had misgivings and had vocally disagreed with what Jeff, his boss and long time friend was doing to the Thunderbird craft.

His argument that the heavy armour and weaponry that Jeff had wanted added to the rescue ships would mean a strain on the usually powerful engines had fallen on deaf ears, the billionaire industrialist had simply ordered the production of new more powerful designs from the Tracy Industries R&D teams that were still in business, what few there were.

Unseen by either brother, their father and the leader of International Rescue continued to monitor their progress from high above on the walkways looking over the hangers, he sighed and closed his eyes momentarily pushing away the pang of guilt and pain in his chest, stepping back he turned away from the chaos that was once the main launching bay, he knew that the rebuild of Thunderbird Two would take a lot longer than compared to Thunderbird One, the size difference and complexity of the transport craft was only matched by the cutting edge space going technology of Thunderbird Three.

He thought back to an increasingly heated discussion with Brains the previous night, about how they needed to hire help somehow much like they had before with the original construction of the Thunderbirds. In how parts for the rescue craft were assembled across the world then shipped to Mateo Island, stored until they were brought here when they were needed to complete the vehicles. Jeff had denied the young scientist's request out of hand, the risk to the organisation, his family and to the island was far too severe to think about bringing others in on the project, many of those who would have been suitable had been responsible for the craft in the first place, however many like Sir Jeremy Hodge had died from the plague or other illnesses.

Shaking his head he turned back around and opened his eyes, Scott and Virgil has started to argue about something, although given the exhaustion and stress they were all under it could have been anything from a conduit rerouting to someone using the wrong colour pencil on a plan. Looking across the hanger he peered into the open doors of Thunderbird Two's pods, the originals had been moved to the rear of the hanger with many of the machines they used, lying derelict and unwanted.

However the one that had engaged his interest was the only one that he should have guessed might be in use, whilst his two sons had been working on the refit, Gordon had been hiding away with his own Thunderbird. While he couldn't see his aquanaut son properly from his place on the gangway, he knew that Gordon had become withdrawn with deep circles under his eyes and had steadily been losing weight much as Brains had, in fact is it wasn't for the hair colour they could almost be mistaken for each other..

Jeff's attention turned to his eldest sons as the argument he'd seen brewing had started to get heated, he could hear something about the blueprints for Thunderbird Two and Scott arguing something Virgil seemed to be ready to punch his brother for, Jeff sighed deeply as he turned and headed for the lift, his thoughts turning to his missing son alone somewhere in the world.

John... where are you? I wish you could be here my son... why did you have to leave us? We all needed you here. The thought was a familiar one as it ran through this mind, echoing in his head as the lift slowly descended to the hanger floor, once again it seemed to would be up to him to break up another fight between his sons.


Spain, Europe

It was a beautiful day in the main streets of Seville, the sun was still rising and even at this early morning hour the temperature was continuing to rise, as the market opened up to see its wares, a non-descript young man walked quietly through the crowds. Pulling gently at the brim of the hat he was wearing, he adjusted the cooling shade back over his face as he walked through the bustling streets. The hat had a secondary advantage of keeping people from looking too closely at his features, he felt especially uncomfortable as he walked amongst the large crowds of the marketplace, with his battered and torn backpack, travel weathered clothes and his own overall unkempt appearance, he was garnering some worrying attention that he could well do without.

He tugged at the brim of the hat again as it rode up, the shadow covering the parts of his face visible to the crowd, walking around a corner he found himself approaching a cafe, he put his bag down and sighed as he sat down at a table taking the weight off his aching legs. He allowed a small smile to cross his face as silently listened the chatter around him, ordering a water before getting a tattered map out to glance over.

Since leaving Tracy Island, he had first travelled through America trying to keep out of sight but his family name and his own reputation had meant catching a boat over to Europe, there he knew that people would be far more accommodation and less prone to gossiping about him. He had ended up at the Royal Portsmouth Atlantic Harbour in England before moving through to France, however circumstances inevitably mean that he had had to move down through the country by hitch hiking and walking before finally settling for a while in Spain.

He had a few run ins with his father's agents, the entire organisation had been informed of his disappearance, time and again he'd barely escaped from their clutches, the constant running rapidly depleting what money and resources he had taken from the island. He had hidden in the mountains in the south of France, staying in abandoned cabins and old shacks as he continued to suffer from the virus that was crippling his body, leaving him little choice back then to wear the heavy gloves to cover the continually expanding patches of cracked skin that every day took hold over more of his body.

The waitress slid his drink onto the table before smiling at him and moving away, turning the ancient looking radio's volume up as she walked back into the cafe, John sighed and trailed his finger along the map, ignoring the mutters and glances from a elderly couple that had settled at a table nearby. He sipped on his water before the radio chimed the hour, informing those listening that it was time for the news.

John half listened as he tugged at his gloves settling them more comfortably over his fingers and allowed himself a few moments to relax, simply sitting down and sipping at the water while watching the crowds.

"Se ha anunciado que el Reino Unido ha declarado un brote grande del virus que está barriendo las partes del mundo. Hay equipos de científicos que intentan actualmente encontrar una manera de parar o de tratar las nuevas tensiones a medida que continúa transformándose."

"En otras noticias, Jeff Tracy de las industrias de Tracy han anunciado una recompensa por la vuelta de su hijo que falta y John conocido Tracy autor."

His head involuntarily shot towards the radio at hearing his name before looking around at the people in the outdoor seating, none had noticed his movement, some had listened to the news, most not understanding it completely. He sighed with relief in that it was a radio that the cafe had and not a Television, although he would be far more difficult to recognise him now. He caught his reflection in the water in the glass and closed his eyes at the stranger looking back, finishing his drink he returned the map to his battered bag before pulling his equally threadbare wallet out, leaving a small tip for the waiter he got up and hefted his backpack onto his shoulder before slowly leaving the cafe.

Thinking of how he use to look like, John noticed as how the now far longer, dyed black hair as it fell into his vision, pushing it back behind his ear in frustration he brushed his fingers against his collar tugged up at his shirt to hide the yellowing cracked skin that the virus had scarred him with.

As he fished out his sunglasses he was reminded of his attempt to wear contact lenses to hide the dull red, almost brown shade his once blue eyes had transformed into, the change in the eyes was a clear sign of the plague that had devastated whole regions of the planet and he had done his best to hide it from those that hunted what was now his kind.

Slipping on the glasses he glanced around the crowds, looking for a opening so he could get to a cheap hotel for the night, moving out just before a couple nearly bumped into him, having stopped at the cafe to listen to the news.

The male tourist held a lady... possibly his wife close, his hand resting on her baby bump as they listened to the repeating headlines. "Phew... only understood half of that... but that Jeff Tracy guy? Wonder what the reward is!"

The woman just shook her head, "His son is missing and sounds like he's desperate to find him. It's sad, especially the state of the world is in now.." She replied, rubbing the side of her baby bump.

"Especially with what happened in the United Kingdom... all of those people."

"If it had been my son, I would want to know what would have happened too... if he's infected, then he's still my son... everyone is human, no matter what they look like" The husband replied holding her , "Let's get you out of the sun."

John smiled and walked past the couple, " Tu bebé tiene suerte, tener grandes padres como tú" He whispered to the couple before walking away from them, trying to blend into the crowds.

The man watched the stranger walk by him, "What did he say?" He asked, holding his wife close.

"He said... your child is lucky to have great parents like you." She replied, watching the young man walk away with sad eyes.


A light breeze flew through the wide open hanger, fluttering the plastic sheets that were tied up around the mass of scaffolding surrounding the partially assembled transport, it was a veritable maze of white plastic sheeting, something that would be thoroughly confusing to possible visitors as to what was going on with Thunderbird Two.

Far along the passages connecting to the rear of the hanger, roars engines made the entire hanger echo as Brains continued testing the newly arrived fusion engines, replacements for the rocket fuelled ramjets that the Thunderbird had been built with. The testing engines covered the noises of welding taking place on different places across the large transporter vehicle.

"How much longer do you think it will be, before her test flight?" Jeff asked, looking down at the mess of the once organised hanger before glancing at his son.

Virgil sighed, rubbing his eyes. His hair was a mess with dark circles growing around his eyes, much the same as the rest of them, if he hadn't known how tired they all were, he'd have wondered if there was an epidemic on the island.

"Well the majority of the main fuselage is in place, the engines, while they are being tested are nearly ready." he replied and stifled a yawn. "Support systems and the cockpit refurbishment are done, the major problem that is slowing us down is the hydraulics and the new pod designs, the damn things are giving us trouble and are not easy to install, if you really want a time for how long 'til her test flight... I think about two months"

Jeff nodded and looked over to where Virgil was looking, straight at Thunderbird Three's hanger.

"How's Gordon? I know Scott has been trying to keep him busy." Virgil asked his father

Jeff sighed his eyes running over Thunderbird Three's sealed hanger before shaking his head.

Virgil closed his eyes leaning on the rail. "Having doubts?" He asked softly before turning to look at his father, pushing off the rail he walked over to the table and boards that held the blueprints for his Thunderbird craft.

"You know I do Virgil... but it... this... has to be done." Jeff sighed following his son to the table., "The world government is begging for help and we're the only ones with the technology to do so."

Their ears rang in the sudden silence as the sounds of the engines ceased, they looked over at the entranceway into the corridors beyond, rapidly a figure appeared as the eldest brother stormed out with a wrench in his hand.

"I give up! I honestly give up with him!" Scott snapped and threw the wrench down onto the floor, the toughed steel tool bouncing once on the concrete surface.

Virgil and Jeff looked at each other before the son walked over to his brother it had already been bad and now it was getting worse, Gordon had been corralled to help Brains with the engines while Scott had continued work on TB2, obviously something had gone wrong as Scott had been pulled from his duties into the test chamber.

That he had returned to the hanger angry at something as usual meant Gordon had screwed up or said something to annoy the elder brother, again something that the younger man had seemed to be doing more and more these days. Virgil looked over the catwalk's side and down at the fuming Scott, shaking his head as he spoke.

"Scott, just.. I'll go and talk to him. He's lost... we were such a big family and now it's just the three of us.."

Scott tilted his head to look at his brother, "Dammit that was over six months ago Virgil! John up and left us in the middle of the night, he knows that and Alan? and Alan... I should have known what he was going to do, been able to stop him, I should have been able to stop them both!" He snapped and punched one of the stations holding up the scaffolding.

Jeff walked over to join Virgil wincing at the sound of Scott hitting the steel columns of the walkway. "No one is blaming you Scott, we should have been able to help them, but we didn't know and we suffered the consequences. But John is still alive out there, we will find him and bring him home.." He said softly.

"We'll hear from him again, I know we will"

Scott sighed as he flexed his bruised knuckles, he would regret that for a while. "Maybe we will, but I won't hold my breath" He snarled before turning to look at the two."So Virgil, how close are we?" He asked, turning to the business of getting Thunderbird Two back online.


Gordon sighed, resting his head against his damp arms as he leaned up against the side of the pool, she simply looked out at the world staring at the distant ocean beyond the jungle. He could feel the pull of the ocean, he gently trod water as he floated in the pool relishing the feel of the water around him, he would have preferred the feel of the salt water of the Pacific around him but the family had promised their father to obey one of his few strict rules. They were never to swim alone in the ocean, no matter what.

Gordon closed his eyes before turning around, listening to the deafening silence of the Tracy Island homestead, once a buzzing, busy and warm home, it was now silent. A busy and happy family, now torn apart by either change or death, the home they had once had falling into disrepair and neglect as the family retreated further into the immense complex built into the interior.

How long had it been since all of this had happened now? The red head frowned and looked up at the sky, trying to figure out how many long days, weeks, months had passed in the silence that the chaos of Alan and John had left behind.

Groaning in frustration, Gordon let himself sink under water before pushing back up and out of the pool. His mind turned to his time with WASP, the accident that made him leave the organisation and the rehab he went through until International Rescue started up and his becoming the proud pilot of the rescue team's only submarine, Thunderbird Four.

He smiled at the thought and of the difficult missions he had been on with his precious vehicle, he grabbed the towel he's thrown on the nearest lounger and dried himself off, unlike his brothers, there was no backup for the pilot of Thunderbird Four which meant if something happened to him then... shaking himself from his thoughts he sighed as he ran a hand through his damp hair, looking up at the slowly darkening sky before closing his eyes and turning away to head back up into the house.

He thought of his family, of his father and his eldest brothers and how they had changed since they lost the younger siblings, including Tintin in that number, the young woman who would one day have been a sister in name as well as in heart.

Gordon leaned in the doorway and sighed deeply, he looked around at the piano that had been long lain silent, the paints long forgotten, paperwork scattered across tables and desks with blueprints peeking out from underneath. His eyes moved over to the portraits, seeing two covered in black sheets while three remained clear and ready for communications.

He blinked his hazelnut eyes as tears formed, turning his head away and walked towards his room. He thought about the gaps in their family and by extension the rescue organisation, holes left by the loss of their brothers and how he had tried his best to step into their shoes but he just didn't understand the training that he needed to take on. His love was for the ocean, not for the vast emptiness of space.

Being aboard first Thunderbird Three and Thunderbird Five felt alien to him, he'd worked on missions involving both but they had always been with Alan or John in charge, but with Scott and Virgil pushing their grief into something productive with their own ships, Gordon felt that he should try and get to know the spacecraft.

Maybe talking to their father would allow Gordon to head up to Thunderbird Five and get to know the space station his big brother once called home, to try and find a way to move on past his own overwhelming grief.


I groaned as I saw headlights flicker in the distance, knowing that with the local curfew in place that at this time of night whoever it was wouldn't be friendly, I dived quickly behind an large rock next to the roadside, hoping that the tail end of my long cloak wouldn't give my hiding place away as the truck drove by.

I waited with baited breath as I listened to the truck drive by and off into the distance, releasing my held breath into the air before getting up and watching the tail lights vanish into the darkness. It had to be hunters, it had to be. Hoping to find lone travellers late at night, or infected to turn in for the high bounty that the Thunderbirds had put on our heads.

I adjusted my cloak and pack, dusting myself off before looking around hoping that the secret entrance to the Underground was close by.

Glancing up at the moon as it came out from behind the clouds, the bright light of the full moon illuminating the rocky countryside that surrounded me. Nevada, it had been a long time since I had been back here.

Getting messages from Catherine, I learnt of the underground communities set up across America and I knew that one of them could help with the growing pains and worsening symptoms that my body was plagued by.

'And a visit from The John Smith can deliver hope to those that have none' He remembered in a letter from Catherine.

So I decided to journey above ground for the first time in a long while, keeping to the dark and travelling over the vast empty plains of the United States to be a beacon of hope for the other infected. Or at least try to, show them that there was still hope to be had out there while my own faded away with each passing day.

My heart jumped into my throat I heard turboscram engines high above me, making me drop to my stomach and risk glance out from under my wide-brimmed hat to see if it had just been my imagination. The skies were empty but as I slowly stood up and grabbed my bag, I saw a road sign that had fallen by the wayside, riddled with bullet holes.

Rising to my feet, I forced my heart to slow back down before moving back and off of the road, it would be harder going but safer in the desert sands than the risk of being seen by the gun happy psychopaths hunting my kind. I had been told of a hidden cave full of severely infected people that lived in the middle of Nevada and they needed as much hope as they could be given. I tried to watch my footing as cliffs gathered either side of me as I walked on, forcing my ears to listen for any noise that could indicate possible hunters while my brain thought about setting up a communications relay for the community.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of guns cocking and a bright search light blinding me, I silently cursed myself for concentrating on what might be out there instead of what was. I covered my face up with my scarf, covering my cracked skin, people moved around me, guns covering every move I made.

"Identify yourself!" A male voice rang out, strong and sure while a clack of a shotgun ready to fire could be heard.

"D-Don't shoot! I've been sent here!" I called back, my eyes and head screaming in pain from the bright light. "M-move the light please! It hurts!"

A torch wavered and the search light was turned off, I was dazed from the disappearance of the light and the pain fading from my head.

"Stay where you are! Who sent you?" The strong male voice asked, the people around me had moved closer nudging me with their guns.

"I-I would talk but it's not safe here! I saw hunters on the roads a few miles back." I said, trying to fight through the slight throbbing pain in my head, hoping that the people surrounding me weren't hunters or agents of the Thunderbirds. "Catherine Hawkins sent me"

As the spots in my vision cleared I felt someone grab my arms, forcing them away from my face before pulling my coat sleeves up, torches shone along my arms revealing the growing mass of brown and yellow skin discolorations where the virus had hardened my skin, cracked then flaked off. Knowing where this was going , I bit my tongue as the man with a shotgun, drew out a sharp knife and tapped the hardened, nail like patches of skin before he forced his knife under them.

I tried not to flinch as the skin pulled, sending sharp pains up my arm, I forced myself to stay still much as I wanted to pull away from the man.

The man frowned but then nodded and his face cleared, a small friendly smile appearing on his face as he put his knife away, he brought his torch up and shined it just to the side of my face looking into my eyes and seeing the same discolouration as his own. He barked out orders to his crew, he must have been satisfied that I was the real deal, that I passed the checks that I knew meant that any attempt to fake the effects on my virus strewn body would fail. "Sorry about that, let's get inside" He said as his men slowly walked back into their home, a hidden entrance in the rocks had been pushed aside revealing a small and well guarded doorway.

"Ya got to understand, them Thuds have been trying ta sneak in to our camp" The man said as he let me into the cave first, men behind us worked on closing up the entrance. "Been trying for months now! Welcome to Blue Sector, ya got a name?" He asked, as we walked down a set of rough hewn well worn stairs, dim torches leading the way down.

'Here we go' I thought to myself, "It's John Smith, came up from the Underground in Brazil as Catherine feels that I could be better use here in America" I replied, seeing people in different tunnels of the cave as we walked, the man stopped to stare at hearing my name.

My guide adjusted his gun, having almost dropped it before swinging it by its strap onto his back. It seemed that the stories of my existence had made it here before me, there didn't seem to be a community that hadn't heard the tales of my existence, of how most of the Underground's existence and communications were set up by me and a few others shortly after day zero, the day the plague was confirmed as a global pandemic.

"What's your name?" I asked as my guide stopped at the top bottom of the incline, ahead of us the entryway looked over a huge open cavern, I could see tents and salvaged metal sheets set up as houses along crudely marked out 'streets', but most importantly and rare for an underground shelter, there seemed to be a underground river feeding the community, running through the middle of the town. I felt a surge of hope rise in my chest, seeing the size of the community, a small underground town that was flourishing and hiding in middle of Nevada.

The man smiled at my reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot, especially with the newbies. I've been here from the start and I still think it's impressive, anyway the name's Samuel. Come on, let's get ya to a tent... then ya can catch us up on the latest news" He replied, leading the way to a nearby tent, larger and in better condition than most it seemed to be the central meeting place for at least this side of the river, another two large tents could be seen on the other side.

He removed his gun before nodding across to a group of men gathered around a firepit, "This here is the council, we formed it shortly after finding this place" Samuel said as I took my bag and hat off, putting them on the floor next to the entryway, I guessed that it would be safe enough. These places usually ran on the trust between members of the infected, stealing from one was much like stealing from all.

"Members of the council, this is John Smith. Pretty sure you guys have heard of him."

The men rose up and looked at me in a gamut of emotions, distrust and disbelief as well as shock and a couple of happy smiles.

"The fabled John Smith, we have heard many tales" One man said, using a cane to hold himself up. I swallowed hard seeing the state of the man, his grey hair and dark eyes reminded me of my father, but the hardened, cracked skin of an infected now covered most of his face, barely leaving his eyes and mouth alone.

"T-that's right, I have brought news from other communities and I thought maybe I can help install a communications link with the rest of the Underground for you" I replied, trying to shake the mental image of my father as I looked at the old man.

I could hear the sounds of the small town around us as we settled in to talk, my heart felt heavy in my chest as I realised that it had been years since I seen my father, since I left the island and the Thunderbirds went from the great hope to the worst threat that the infected people of the world had to face.

Sitting down at the campfire, I rubbed my hands and winced in feeling as the nail like skin caught on my fingers, peeling from what I guessed was sunburn or simply new infected tissue growth from underneath that was pushing up .

"Now tell us, what news have you brought from the communities" The old man said softly as drinks were handed out, I leaned back slightly into the chair and began explaining just what was going on and how bad it was really getting out there.


Scott growled and slammed a file down on the table, causing the glasses on the table to shake. "I don't believe it! They can't get a simple order right!" He snapped and flopped down onto the couch.

Virgil sighed internally, Scott's temper was getting worse and worse. "Take it easy Scott, just means that when it gets here I'll modify the parts myself, it's just a small delay of four months, we've been through worse." He said, leaning against their father's desk.

"Just tell me the parts we need and I'll get them rushed here." Jeff told them, "Scott, go and hit the simulators, put some of that that energy to something useful, you need to get some flight time with the new controls before you can fly full time, your latest test results have not been your best."

"What the hell do you expect? I want to get out there! You know what we've got to do, so why are you so calm, or are you having second thoughts about the change in this operation?" Scott glared at their father, looking between him father and his brother before getting up and pacing the room. Jeff watched his son with the unending patience he has always had with them, however Virgil watched them both warily knowing this could go either way.

"We've lost three members of our own family to that... that virus!" Scott all but screamed, "How long was he hiding that from us? Pushing us away, or hiding away so we wouldn't see what he was becoming, then run away like some coward!" He snapped, his temper running his mouth, "And Gordon, that kid has just become like John! So distant and keeps away from us, either in Thunderbird Three's hanger or in the pool! Are we going to lose him too? I need to be out there in the world, find John and bring him back!"

Jeff frowned and got up from his chair, "Stop right now Scott Carpenter Tracy, now sit down and take deep breaths! We're all suffering from this and we all know what must be done! Losing Tin-Tin, Alan and now John... it hasn't been easy for any of us. We all buried ourselves into the work that needed to be done..." He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair as Scott's hands turned into fists and glared at their father.

"The council didn't ask us to help as the Tracy family, but as International Rescue, to try and bring the order to the hell that world is turning into, orders from the World Council Father. Our own grief, our own losses, means nothing to them as long as we get the job done." Jeff looked at his son sternly, "As for John? I have people out there looking for him, we will find him and bring him home"

Scott laughed darkly turning his back on his father and storming off muttering to himself, just barely loud enough to be heard but still audible just the same, "I'll kill him then bring him home"

"Dad... John... he might not want us to find him, that virus, we've all seen the photos and what it does to people" Virgil sighed and moved to sit down again, "And our craft, they're going out there to kill people not save them, I know why we have got to do it but I'm not sure if I can actually do it, if I can pull the trigger"

Jeff sighed, things were getting out of hand all around, even if the plague was cured tomorrow, it would be all but impossible for them to turn International Rescue back into what it had been. Like it or not they were now committed to this course of actions. "I know Virgil, go and find Gordon and see if you can help him with Thunderbird Three for now, at least until we can get back to work on Thunderbird Two" He replied, "We have to do this for the world, no matter how hard it is for us to do it. "


( A/N (*translation*( It has been announced that the United Kingdom has declared a large outbreak of the virus that is sweeping parts of the world. There are teams of scientists currently trying to find a way to halt or treat the new strains as it continues to mutate.

In other news, Jeff Tracy of Tracy Industries has announced a reward for the return of his missing son and known author John Tracy. ) End A/N )