You've waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Well good news!

Hey! I'm back! I forgot to add this: All time is in E.S.T [That means eastern time, I think] Also, you've been wondering what happened to Gordon, right? Well, you're about to find out!

I also seemed to have screwed up the times at one point or another. Sorry about that. It's either that or I have confuzzeled myself… Just work with me.

The Name "Daka" comes from a friend. I wasn't able to come up with a name and she suggested it. Credit goes to her!

Let's thank Mom for the medical knowledge!

Beta - Shadowfox8

Now, the first part of this chapter will continue what happened last chapter. After that, we kinda go into a rewind and find out what's been going on with the other characters. You've been wondering what happened to Gordon, right? Maybe you were wondering what happened to Jeremy, Fermat, and the rest of the North Tower group. Well, the wait is finally over!


Around 7:25 p.m.

With John and Virgil

John's eyes blinked open. "I'm alive?" he asked aloud.

"Yes, Johnny-boy. We're both alive. Somehow."

John started. He looked down into the face of his younger brother. "Virge! You're alright!" he shouted.

"Dude, not so loud." Virgil, from practically underneath his older brother, then said, "Will you please get off me?!"

"Sorry." John was surprised that he was able to get up and move around. He was even more surprised to discover that the avalanche caused by the MiniMole didn't cover them. "So, Virge, how do you think we managed to escape that?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the pile of debris.

"John, when I figure that out, you'll be the second to know."

"Second?"

Virgil smacked his head as he carefully stood up. He wasn't seriously hurt –miraculously-, just had a few cuts and scrapes. "Well, think about it, John. Who would be the first to know?"

"Shut up."

"How about you both shut up and get me out of here? Honestly, you're just like Alan and Josh. Actually, more like Alan and Fermat."

John and Virgil's eyes widened as they took in the sight that was directly to their right –the opposite side of the collapse. Virgil immediately fell to his knees. "Holy sh- crud!"

Lying before them, with only his head and right arm visible, was Eric Santee, one of the Wharton kids.

Lt. Shepard

It was hard to tell who was more upset and scared. Lt. Alan Shepard certainly couldn't. He watched and listened as Jeff and Scott were both yelling on the radio. Scott was telling his father to get the MiniMole out of the way, and that it had knocked some debris down on John and Virgil.

'Let's see. How many times has the IR rescue situation been screwed up point-wise,' Lt. Shepard mused as he glanced down the hole, 'Scott – 1; John – 2; Virgil – 2; Gordon – hm… Kinda hard to tell; Alan – now that is the million-dollar question. No one even knows if he's still alive; Jeff – 0.' Lt. Shepard mentally smacked his forehead. 'Great. Not enough sleep and then even my thoughts are confusing as hell!'

"Hey! Hey! Can anyone hear us? If you can, can we please get some help down here in this Pit of Hell?" he heard John –at least he though it was John- shout from below. He looked down and smiled. There was John supporting his younger brown-haired brother and waving. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Lt. Shepard looked at the elder Tracy brother, who apparently hadn't noticed his brother's call. He tapped on his shoulder and pointed down. He watched in amusement as Scott's eyes widened in disbelief as he spoke with an excited tone to his father on Thunderbird 2.

"Dad! They're alright! They're alright!" Scott excitedly told the radio/watch.

Lt. Shepard turned back to John and Virgil, who seemed to be digging at something. "Hey! What have you boys found?!" he shouted.

Virgil was the one who answered. "Eric! We found Eric! He's one of the Wharton kids! He's still alive!"

Lt. Alan B. Shepard's jaw dropped in shock. Maybe, just maybe, they were close to finding Alan Tracy. Shouldn't he have been with the other Wharton kids?

With Scott

Scott turned to his older-newer friend and then back down at his younger brothers. "Could you repeat that?"

"We found Eric and he's still alive! Now unconscious, but alive!" came John's voice over the watch/radio. Scott had to smile. Maybe, just maybe, they are close to finding Alan.

"Did you get that, Dad?" Scott asked excitedly.

"F.A.B. I got it, Scott."

[still 9-11] 2:00 p.m. - whenever

Mercy Hospital Emergency Room 3

They had brought in the two International Rescue men. An oxygen mask was placed over the blond-gray haired one, while a paramedic was checking vitals on the red-gray haired one, identified as "Gordon". The man had apparently become totally unresponsive thirty seconds prior to arrival at the Emergency doors.

Nurse McCall immediately directed the paramedic and orderlies with Gordon into Treatment 3. She then took the one identified as "John" into Treatment 4, where she gave him oxygen treatment and the shock of his life when she figured out who he was.

Meanwhile, in Treatment 3, Gordon's breathing was labored; pulse was 60, respiration 15, and BP of 70/60. He still hadn't regained consciousness since his accident.

Dr. John Daka, tall, lean, with brown hair going gray on the sides, immediately ordered CT scan of the head, chest, abdomen, and pelvis. "Stat!" he said for equal measure.

The x-ray technicians nodded and got to work. Dr. Daka, the paramedic, and a nurse left the room, leaving a single nurse inside the room in case of an emergency.

Outside the room, there were several reporters that were hoping for some images of the IR men. Security officer arrived on scene a few moments later and guided them away. Or at least attempted to.

"Hey! We've got a right to be here! Freedom of the press, remember?!" a head-strong young female demanded.

"Sorry, lady. Why don't you all just leave this hospital and go cover the terrorist attacks?" one guard asked.

"Everyone's doing that. I'm going to cover some real news, like why two members of the Thunderbirds have been brought to the hospital."

A shout came from behind the female reporter as a woman that looked just a little older than her came at the reporter. "You witch! How dare you! My husband, brother, and father were in the Trade Centers! They were firefighters doing their duty and are buried in the rubble! You don't think that's news?!"

"That's enough!" a nurse shouted, stepping between the two women. "Enough of this nonsense! I won't have it! Not in my hospital! Now, everyone calm down. Guards take the reporter outside."

The guard nodded taking the stunned, young female reporter by the arm and leading her outside.

The nurse then turned to the other woman. "Now, why don't you go and sit down? Wait for news with the others."

The woman burst into tears. "Why? There's no point! M husband is never going to meet his child! My brother isn't going to meet his niece or nephew! My father is never going to meet his grandchild!"

The nurse enveloped the woman in a hug, sensing that that was what she needed at the moment, lending her a shoulder to cry on. "My name is Dixie. Dixie Daka. What's yours?"

The woman sniffed. "Samantha Wheeling. My husband is… was Lt. Jerry Wheeling. My other brother came to my house earlier –he's a police officer- and told me that the last they heard from my husband was that he was up in the South Tower, helping some Tracy kid. They lost contact with him just before the building collapsed."

Dixie's eyes widened at this revelation. Samantha began crying harder and Dixie led her to her husband's, Dr. Daka, office.

Meanwhile, Dr. Daka walked back into Treatment 3 where the CT was finished. "We'll have the results up here in a few minutes, Dr. Daka.," the orderly said before walking out.

"Thank you," the doctor replied as he walked over to the prone man lying on the table. He then retook the vitals. "What were his vitals?"

The nurse, Carol Webbings, walked forward, holding a metal clipboard. "BP – 70/60; Pulse – 60; pupils unequal and sluggish. Breathing shallow and labored, assisted by bag ET."

Dr. Daka frowned. "His BP's dropping. It's now 60/30. Start two large bore IVs and warms fluids, wide open. Get him typed and crossed for four units of blood."

Carol nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

Dr. Daka glanced at the EKG. "Sinus Tach."

Just then, a fellow doctor, Dr. James Magna, walked in with a burnt-yellow colored, large envelope. "I have the CT report." He turned to the blank viewing screen, snapped the images up on it, and flipped the switch, illuminating the images with the florescent light.

Dr. Daka walked over to his friend and examined the CT. "He's got a small subdural; chest shows a small hemo-pneumothorax-"

"He may need a chest tube," Dr. Magna broke in.

"Abdomen and pelvis look okay." Dr. Daka continued to examine the CT reports. After a few minutes, he walked back to the patient, putting on his stethoscope. He placed it on the injured man's chest. After a few seconds, he frowned, placing the stethoscope over the other lung. "No breathing in the right lung. Set up for chest tube insertion!"

Dr. Magna, with the ease and skill of a seasoned surgeon, he made a small incision and slipped the tube in to the man's chest. Immediately a gush of air was heard. The tube was then sutured into place and a x-ray confirmed proper placement. Blood started to fill the chest tube drain 760 cc before slowing. Slowly, his BP stabilized.

"He's going to need surgery. We have to place a ventricular drain to relieve the pressure on his brain. I'll go and talk to the IR man next door." With that, Dr. Daka walked out of the room.

.~*~.

John looked up from the table he was sitting on as a new doctor walked in. He could tell by the serious expression on the man's tired face that the news was serious. Forgetting for a moment that he was in uniform, he made a fatal comment. Removing the oxygen mask from his mouth, he asked, "What's wrong with my brother?"

Dr. Daka stopped mid-step. "Your brother?"

Nurse McCall glanced at John. "So you are John Tracy! I knew it!"

Dr. Daka frowned. "I'm missing something here."

John was mentally slapping himself. He sighed. "I'll tell you after you tell me what's wrong with my little brother."

"Deal." Dr. Daka then proceeded to tell the blond Tracy what they had learned. "All in all, he's going to need surgery in order to place a ventricular drain to relieve the pressure on his brain. We need you to fill out the permission forms. I have them with me." Dr. Daka handed the man a metal clipboard and a pen.

John nodded and signed the form. "He will be alright, right?" he asked as he put the name "Gordon Cooper" on the form for the patient's name.

Dr. Daka took the forms from him and smiled. "With a little time and rest, he'll be fine." He turned to Nurse McCall. "Take these next door and alert OR." Nurse McCall nodded, took the clipboard, and walked out of the room. She was disappointed that she wouldn't be able to learn more from the IR man.

The doctor then turned back to John. "Now for your end of the bargain. I was just kidding, by the way. You don't have to tell me anything."

John just sighed. "Yes, I do. It's the whole reason I have to get out of here so fast and get back to Ground Zero." He lowered his voice until it was just above a whisper. "I am John Tracy. The man you have been examining is my younger brother, Gordon Cooper Tracy. The reason I have to get back to the search is-" He broke off with a harsh cough. Dr. Daka immediately placed the mask back on the blonde's face.

"Easy." Dr. Daka's eyes widened. "Wait. I was watching the news earlier. They said that Alan Tracy was- Oh, crap! No wonder you're in such a rush! Your little brother is trapped in that pile of scrap!"

John could only nod and hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

John Daka stared at the man in shock. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke. "I know exactly how you feel."

John looked at him questioningly.

"He might not have been my little brother, but he was like an older brother to me. You remember that World Trade Center bombing of '93?"

John nodded.

"My best friend was killed in that. His name was Wilfredo Mercado. He was thirty-seven."

John's eyes widened. "How old are you?!"

Daka laughed. "Me? I'm around forty." He sighed, "It took me a long time to get over his death. It doesn't hurt as much now, but it still hurts a lot, you know? I just hope that they find your brother before it is too late."

'It may already be too late…' John thought darkly. 'Stop that! Alan is a survivor! He'll make it through this! I know he will!'

Nurse McCall stuck her head into the room. "They're taking him up to surgery now."

John stood up. "Let me see him. Please."

McCall looked at Daka, who nodded. "Alright. Come on."

John hopped off the bed and walked out of the room. Several doctors and nurses turned to look at the blond International Rescue man in surprise. They watched as he took the other IR man's hand and bent in next to his head. They saw him move his lips, but they didn't know what he was saying.

Daka and McCall heard every word.

"We're going to bring our baby brother home, Gordy."

[still 9-11] 5:15 p.m.

Holiday Inn Hotel on the New Jersey/Hudson River border

The hotel manager had been very kind, allowing them to stay in one of the rooms on the top floor, free of charge. Originally, he hadn't been too pleased with that, but when he learned that they were the Wharton students rescued from the North Tower, he allowed them to stay, with the promise that they could pay later. Mr. Maus made sure that the manager knew that Wharton's would pay for the room later.

Fermat had been allowed out of the hospital, where a doctor stated that he only had a mild concussion and needed rest. Mr. Maus agreed that he would get it, and took the boys to find a place to stay, since their original hotel, the Marriott Hotel, had been crushed when the South Tower had collapsed, taking the other Wharton group with it.

Fermat sighed, staring out the window that faced Lower Manhattan, where he could see the thick column of smoke rising up into the heavens where the elegant and beautiful Twin Towers once stood, proud and tall. Now it was only a grim shadow of the former pride of the Manhattan skyline.

He had been in contact with his father, assuring the older man that he was indeed alright. Since then, he had stayed by the window, watching the smoke that continued to billow from the wreakage.

He just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

Sitting on the beds and the floor, four silent students continually glanced from the TV news coverage of the terrorist attacks and back at the youngest member of their group. Their somber and quiet mood suggested that they had seen way too much that day.

Blue-haired, Ray Pilot spoke. "Do you think Tracy and the others will be okay?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Fermat. The fact that the blue-haired boy was actually being considerate would've shocked the others yesterday. But they had all been through a disturbing past couple of hours, and were all shook up.

Alex Riley glanced at the prone figure that was sitting by the window and sighed. "I hope, for Fermat's and the Thunderbirds' sake, that they are. I don't want to think about what would happen to International Rescue if Alan doesn't survive."

"I agree," Edward Bellingham replied. "From what I read about the Tracys, they were devastated at the loss of Lucy Tracy, the wife of Jeff Tracy. I don't think they could handle another loss, especially their youngest member."

Roy Fink glanced at him. "Dude, when did you look up information on Jeff Tracy?"

Edward blushed. "A couple hours ago," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the computer that was in their suite.

"And may I ask why?" Roy asked.

"Well…"

He was saved the trouble of answering when Mr. Maus walked into the hotel room carrying two boxes of pizza. "I'm not one to cook much, but we do need to eat if we're going to help out at the rescue sight tomorrow."

Five heads turned to the teacher, their eyes filled with shock and hope. "What do you mean?" Ray asked.

"Well, I didn't exactly get us permission to go down there. I just mentioned that I have some helpful volunteers who are willing to help. Granted we'll only be helping on the outer edge, but at least we'll be there and not going crazy here." Mr. Maus glanced at Fermat. "I'm told that as a member of International Rescue, you have a right to be there, helping out, Mr. Hackenbacker."

Fermat sighed. "No. I may have the r-r-right, but I'm not going to. Once they find out that we're just teens, t-they're just going to send us away." He spoke his words slowly and carefully, barely stuttering.

"Fermat! Alan's down there!"

"And Bobby!"

"And Eric!"

"And Issac and Josh!"

"My brother's there, too!"

Five pairs of eyes glanced at the teacher. "Say what?"

Mr. Maus sighed. "Mr. Swan is my half-brother, alright? Same father, different mothers. Only other difference is that my father didn't marry his mother. He got drunk and met her at a bar. She was my mother's best friend. I don't even know why I'm telling you this, but it feels good to get it off my chest. Just don't go and spread it around, okay?" he said, glaring at the boys, who nodded. He then looked at Fermat sadly. "He's all I got left of my family, you know. Mom died a while ago, Dad bolted. His mother became a drug addict and died of an overdose. We've been the best of friends, even though my mother hated his mother after what happened…

"Anyway, I feel as if I can trust you five. I…I just have to be down there. He's my brother…My best friend…"

Fermat felt horrible. He knew that they shouldn't go down there –they would only cause trouble-, but he knew how Mr. Maus felt. Fermat felt that Alan was his brother as well. He knew what he had to do.

"No," he stated firmly.

Five people blanched, staring at the small figure. "What do you mean, 'no'?" Mr. Maus demanded, taking a step toward the smaller boy.

Fermat held his ground. "We," he said slowly stated, "would j-just be ca-ca…making trouble. If you want to go, Mr. M-M-Maus, then go. We are underage and wo-wouldn't be a-a-any help. We would just get into t-t-trouble."

Mr. Maus was furious. Here was one of his students, telling him no. "Listen, kid. I need to find my brother and no child is going to stop me. I am your teacher, and what I say goes. What's the point of you being a member of IR if you can't get me in there to-"

Fermat glared at him, taking on a look that was never seen on his face. "I don't abuse the power given to me by the Commander. I am the T-Thunderbird member and you are not. So technically, I am in charge. I say no and that's that." If the fact that Fermat had just stood up to the teacher not been enough, then the fact that he made his little speech with barely a stutter would.

Ray felt proud of the nerd- no, Fermat.

8:00 p.m. in England [3: 00 p.m. EST]

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward's Estate in England

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward sighed as she prepared to step out of FAB-1. She and Parker had just gotten back from a mission and Penny was looking forward to a nice long bubble bath.

Parker opened the door and let his friend out. Once Penny was out, he grabbed her bags and followed her up the stone steps.

Neither of them had heard what had happened in New York, for they had been away from communications for two days.

.~*~.

She took off her lustrous, pink robe and slipped under the bubbly water, leaving only her head and shoulders above the water. She immediately felt the water work its wonder on her sore muscles. Using her foot, she turned on her bath-side, waterproof TV to the world news. She then closed her eyes as she listened.

"What you are looking at right now is what remains of the World Trade Center Towers that collapsed in Manhattan, New York, just under nine hours ago eastern time."

Penny's eyes shot open as she stared at the screen in shock. Images of the columns of smoke that were rising from southern Manhattan appeared. Penny wasted no time in calling Parker on her cell. He soon arrived, worried by her terrified voice. His eyes widened as he took in what was being shown on the screen.

"For those of you just tuning in, a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center Twin Towers has brought the magnificent towers down." This time, images of the planes crashing into the towers were being shown. Soon after that, videos of the South Tower's collapse appeared, quickly followed by the North Tower.

"The Thunderbirds arrived at different times, Thunderbird 1 arriving just as the South Tower collapse; Thunderbird 2 arriving just after the North Tower collapsed. Another Thunderbird, a red rocket known as Thunderbird 3, arrived later today. Sadly, they were too late in arriving."

It was then that she heard the most devastating news.

"Among the victims that are still buried in the rubble who are presumed dead, is a group of students from Wharton's Academy in Massachusetts that were on a field trip to the Twin Towers. One group had gotten out previously to the collapse of the North Tower, where they were on tour. Sadly, the second group was near the upper floors of the South Tower. Among this group is the youngest son of international billionaire and businessman, Jeff Tracy: Alan Shepard Tracy."

Penny's hands flew up to her mouth in shock, stifling a scream that threatened to come out of her throat. The water around her sloshed around slightly.

Parker was at a loss as to what to say. After about five minutes of stunned silence, he spoke. "Shall I bring the car around?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. And bring my flight suit. I'm sure they won't believe me when I tell them that I am part of International Rescue unless I have my uniform and pin."

"Yes, Milady."

8:30 p.m

Tracy Island

"Good evening.

"Today, our fellow citizens, our way of life, our very freedom came under attack in a series of deliberate and deadly terrorist acts.

"The victims were in airplanes or in their offices -- secretaries, businessmen and women, military and federal workers. Moms and dads. Friends and neighbors.

"Thousands of lives were suddenly ended by evil, despicable acts of terror.

"The pictures of airplanes flying into buildings, fires burning, huge structures collapsing, have filled us with disbelief, terrible sadness and a quiet, unyielding anger.

"These acts of mass murder were intended to frighten our nation into chaos and retreat. But they have failed. Our country is strong. A great people has been moved to defend a great nation.

"Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shatter steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve.

"America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining.

"Today, our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature, and we responded with the best of America, with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could.

"Immediately following the first attack, I implemented our government's emergency response plans. Our military is powerful, and it's prepared. Our emergency teams are working in New York City and Washington, D.C., to help with local rescue efforts.

"Our first priority is to get help to those who have been injured and to take every precaution to protect our citizens at home and around the world from further attacks.

"The functions of our government continue without interruption. Federal agencies in Washington, which had to be evacuated today are reopening for essential personnel tonight and will be open for business tomorrow.

"Our financial institutions remain strong, and the American economy will be open for business as well.

"The search is underway for those who are behind these evil acts. I've directed the full resources for our intelligence and law enforcement communities to find those responsible and bring them to justice. We will make no distinction between the terrorists who committed these acts and those who harbor them.

"I appreciate so very much the members of Congress who have joined me in strongly condemning these attacks. And on behalf of the American people, I thank the many world leaders who have called to offer their condolences and assistance.

"America and our friends and allies join with all those who want peace and security in the world and we stand together to win the war against terrorism.

"Tonight I ask for your prayers for all those who grieve, for the children whose worlds have been shattered, for all whose sense of safety and security has been threatened. And I pray they will be comforted by a power greater than any of us spoken through the ages in Psalm 23: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me."

"This is a day when all Americans from every walk of life unite in our resolve for justice and peace. America has stood down enemies before, and we will do so this time.

"None of us will ever forget this day, yet we go forward to defend freedom and all that is good and just in our world.

"Thank you. Good night and God bless America."

Brains Hackenbacker listened to the television in silence as President Bush finished speaking to the American nation. 'Like a simple speech will heal the pain that parents, brothers, sisters, grandparents, sons, daughters, friends, and neighbors feel. Especially not the Tracys. They will never be healed until Alan is found. One way or another,' he thought sadly, staring away from the screen and at another screen, which showed the individual signals of the watches. Once more, he counted them.

'Seven.' His eyes widened. "S-S-SEVEN!?" he practically shouted. He knew that Fermat's was one of them. "Th-there should only b-be s-s-six! A-Alan's was c-c-c-crushed… U-Unless…"

He counted the signals once again. Once more, there were only six. 'Six. Must've just been wishful thinking.'

2100 hours [9:00 p.m. for you non-military folk]

Jeremy Hart

Jeremy coughed on the thick smoke that still billowed up from the rubble of the World Trade Center. He really needed a surgical mask.

He could see the lights that signaled that there were people up ahead. He walked towards them just in time to see a blond teenager being passed down on a stokes through a long line of firemen, police officers, and other rescuers. The boy's face was covered in soot, cuts, and bruises. He could tell that the boy was in a lot of pain, and not just because of the badly twisted leg.

He looked away and saw two more stokes being passed along, the bodies in them were covered with a yellow shock blanket that also covered their faces. He knew that that meant: They were dead.

He made his way up to where he saw the Thunderbirds. Their heads were all bowed and he thought that he saw tears falling from a couple eyes. He spotted the leader helping a firefighter out of a hole.

Jeff looked up. "Jeremy, right?" he questioned.

"Yes, sir. May I ask who you just found?"

Jeff nodded, brushing the dust from his gloves on his flight suit, well aware that it was useless. "Eric Santee, a teacher, and another student. Before Eric passed out on them, he told two of my men that they were Mr. Swan and Bobby Jones. It took awhile, but we freed their bodies."

"Kids… From that Wharton school? The ones who were here on a field trip?"

Jeff nodded, not trusting his voice. He forced his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears that threatened to spill.

Scott came to his father's rescue. "We never told you our names, did we? My name is-"

"Jeff Tracy, Scott Tracy, John Tracy, Virgil Tracy, and Gordon Tracy," Jeremy interrupted. He smiled. "My little sister has been following you guys for a while. She's obsessed with you guys and the Thunderbirds. She thinks the youngest Tracy and the red-haired one are cute." Immediately, though he had tried to lighten their moods with his little announcement, he knew he had said something wrong. He looked around. "I know Alan Tracy is caught in the rubble, but where's Gordon?"

"In surgery," John answered.

His family stared at him in shock, their jaws all dropping at the same time. "Say what?!" Scott demanded.

"Why did you leave this little detail out?!" Jeff seethed angrily.

John flinched. "I was about to tell you, but then I found out that Scott and Virge were in trouble…I guess it just slipped my mind."

Virgil sighed. "Why is he in surgery?"

John made a full report. "The doctors say that he will be just fine given time and rest. His falling into the rubble didn't aggravate his back in any way that they saw."

"Thank God," Jeff whispered. "Thank God."

Lt. Shepard sighed as he turned off his radio. "Guys, they say that we must go in now. No more excuses. He's glad we found the kid, but he wants us all to go back in for replacements. Oh, and apparently they just pulled two police officers out of the South Tower rubble. Alive. Our total of surviving victims as of right now is twenty out of about two thousand, give or take a few."

"Damn it!" Jeff shouted as he kicked a piece of concrete angrily.

"That's not the worse part. They also say that at least 343 firefighters and paramedics are missing; 23 NYPD missing; 37 Port Authority cops still missing. Some fire station shifts are completely gone.

"Body parts have been found as well. At least 200 so far."

"This sucks," Jeremy growled.

"Yes, yes it does," Scott answered, placing his hand on the Air Force man's shoulder.

They all stood in silence before Jeremy suddenly looked to the heavens and began speaking. "Hail Mary, full of grace…" As he went on, the others joined in. Soon, the prayers continued on down the long line of firefighters, being carried on down to the large group of rescuers that surrounded the rubble of the once proud and tall Twin Towers.

The words seemed to echo everywhere.

"The Lord is with Thee; Blessed art Thou among women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus…

"Holy Mary, Mother of God pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death…"


In case you are wondering where the heck Alan is, he'll appear in the next chapter. I promise. Oh, yes, starting after this chapter will be one more featuring 9-11. The one after that will move onto 9-12. After that, who knows.

Goal: I am hoping to have at least 21 chapters, seven for each day.

I know this has taken me a while to get out, but I've been brain dead for a while. TAS will continue soon. I finally got my muse back for that one! [dances for joy]

Any spelling and grammer mistakes are mine. Once again, I added some stuff after I got it back from Shadowfox8...*nervous chuckle*

Oh, and the part about Jeremy's sister [me] obsessing over the Thunderbirds...is correct. Alan and Gordon are cute! Let's see, in order of...nah... Alan's first, all the way! That's all that matters.

Oh, yeah. Check out my poll I made on my profile.

Well, gots to go! School is almost out!

Until next time!

Fenix