Chapter Ten

Right on cue the vidphone sitting on the small desk in Jeff's sitting room signaled in incoming call. He opened the line to find Brains before him, sans glasses. "You really should get that laser eye surgery, Brains," Jeff said amicably. "Hell, you could probably perform it on yourself."

"I like my glasses too much," he replied, resettling them on his nose.

"Don't you think it's time you stop hiding behind them?"

"I'm not-" Brains began, then his shoulders sagged. "I don't know if I can do this, Mr. Tracy."

"Brains, if anyone can, it's you. I have faith in you. And...you don't doubt your ability to successfully carry out the procedure, yet...you don't have faith to in yourself to actually succeed. I don't understand."

"There are so many variables. The tumor is larger, which will actually make extraction of it from the artery a bit easier. I would say the chances of success have risen to at least seventy percent."

"Then what is it, Brains?"

"Can't you tell?"

Jeff stared at him. "Yes. It's me. You don't want to kill me." Brains nodded. "But Brains, I'm going to die from this anyway. What you're doing by performing this procedure is the same thing you've always done...try to turn certain death into a fighting chance to live. It's your mind and abilities that have saved us all on countless occasions."

"What if I can't save you?" he whispered. "What if I...?"

"You're thinking that you couldn't live with yourself if I died or became brain damaged as a result of what you're going to attempt. But could you live with yourself if I died next week, knowing you didn't even try?"

That got Brains' attention. Jeff was right. Living with the guilt of knowing he'd done nothing would be a hundred times worse than trying and failing.

"How soon can you be ready for me?"

"Within 72 hours, Mr. Tracy."

"Then it's settled. I'll go let the others know. And Brains?"

"Yes?"

"I'll make you a deal. If I come out of this with flying colors, which I'm sure I will, you'll get that laser surgery and get rid of those goddamned glasses."

Brains smiled. "It's a deal."

"I'll be there tomorrow. I still need to meet with Scott and Virgil." Brains nodded. "And you."

"Me?"

"You are a member of this family, are you not?"

"I...I, uh...I don't...uh..."

"Don't start stuttering again on my account. I'll see you tomorrow. Jeff Tracy out."

It was nearly midnight on Tracy Island. As Jeff and Penny slept soundly in his bed, thousands of miles away someone they hadn't given a thought to in months laughed as beaded curtains swished closed under the guidance of his hands. From the center of the cavernous room that made up a large portion of his grand and garish stone temple, Belah Gaat watched as the statue of his half-brother was covered once more.

At last International Rescue, and all their technology, was within his grasp. His foolish brother had confirmed what Belah himself had sensed. The leader of International Rescue, a man who had become Belah's hated enemy over the years, was dying. And as a result of the tumor deep within his brain, Jefferson Tracy's mind was now even more open to the Hood than Kyrano's.

Eyes nearly glowing with excitement, Belah retreated to his meditation chamber, seated himself cross-legged on the bare wood floor, and closed his eyes. "Jefferson Tracy," he intoned. "You are no match for the power of my mind. Hear me now, Tracy. Hear me and speak."

Penny awoke to the distinct sensation that something was wrong. She turned on the night stand lamp and rolled over to face Jeff. His head was moving from side to side, and he was moaning softly. His lips moved, but no words came forth. Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead; his fists clenched the comforter tightly.

"Jeff?"

His only response was to moan even louder.

"Jeff," she repeated, shaking him.

"No...won't...tell...you...!"

"Tell me what?"

"No...won't...tell...no...Hood..."

"Hood?" Penny shrieked. "Jeff, for God's sake, wake up!" She shook him even harder, but she may as well not have existed.

Suddenly he roared in pain and his words became incoherent.

"Gods! Jeff!" Penny grabbed her watch and cried, "Kyrano! Help me! Please!"

Minutes later Kyrano flew into the suite, his long, gray robes fluttering behind him in the breeze he created. He climbed atop Jeff, straddling his body, and laid his hands upon his head. Jeff began to struggle, his arms and legs flailing as his mind fought the battle within.

"Hold him!"

Penny nodded and did the best she could, but she was no match for the strength in Jeff's limbs as he fought against his invisible intruder.

"No...base...won't...no..."

"Jeff, don't tell him, please don't tell him anything!"

Sweat poured down Kyrano's face as it twisted in pain. All at once he cried out, "No!" as Jeff suddenly regained consciousness. Their eyes locked and Penny watched in fright as they silently mouthed words that didn't seem to be in English. Then they both stiffened and lost consciousness, Jeff falling back on the bed, Kyrano going limp right on top of him.

Watch still in hand, Penny raised it to her face. "Alan! Gordon! Come quickly!"

Within a minute, Alan and Gordon arrived on the scene. "What happened?" Gordon asked as he and Alan moved Kyrano off their father to the other side of the bed.

Penelope explained what she'd seen and heard.

"He said the Hood's name?" Alan asked. She nodded.

"And he said...base?"

"Yes, Gordon."

"Oh, no," Alan whispered, the look of horror on his face mirroring that of his brother's. "You don't suppose...he couldn't have told the Hood where we are. Could he?"

Penny's face paled. "Oh, my God."

A low, rumbling laugh echoed through the large hangar as Belah turned on the overhead lights. Before him sat an aircraft the size of a Navy fighter. It was a brand new design created by his own group of scientists and engineers. Made of a metal that was nearly impervious to traditional firepower, it was safe, quick, and highly maneuverable.

But most of all, it was armed to the teeth.

He could have rounded up enough jets for his intended attack upon the base of International Rescue to make Pearl Harbor look like a child's backyard game, but Belah wanted to do this himself. He would not need assistance to take over the organization he'd been hell bent on destroying for nearly seven years. And when those fools were all dead, their secrets and their technology would be his and his alone.

"I have waited a long time for this day," he said as he climbed into the cockpit. "A very long time."

Kyrano and Jeff had been moved to the Hospital Ward, where they remained unconscious under Ruth's watchful eye. Knowing they had to assume the worst, Alan and Gordon had contacted all three of their brothers, and together the men knew what they had to do.

Tracy Island immediately went to High Alert Status. There were always contingency plans in any military organization, and International Rescue was run no differently. Tracy Island was in lockdown. Communications in or out were banned completely, with one coded emergency contact line remaining active.

John monitored air and sea traffic from Thunderbird 5, while Alan did the same from the Lounge. Penelope and Tin-Tin had gone with Gordon to the Cliff House which, whenever HAS was in place, became the base's Defense Control. Gordon and Tin-Tin knew how to use the island's weaponry systems, and quickly taught Penny some basic functionality.

Not only were communications shut off, but no one was allowed to arrive or leave. Their father's orders were clear. If Tracy Island were ever under attack, anyone who wasn't there when it happened was to stay away, no matter what.

That left Scott, Virgil and Brains stewing in a hospital conference room in Sydney. Virgil watched as the vein in Scott's temple throbbed mercilessly. "Stop fretting, Scott. There's nothing we can do."

"The hell there isn't!" he bellowed. "If what Alan says is true, the Hood could be on his way to attack the island!"

"Father's orders are clear, Scott."

"To hell with his orders!" Scott fumed. "I'm not just going to sit here and let them die. Are you?"

Brains approached the brothers, his face a mask of calm. "Tracy Two doesn't have much in the way of weaponry," he reminded them. "We can't defend Base with that. What can we do?"

A look of steely determination settling onto his face, Scott was halfway out the door as he replied, "Find something that can defend Base."

Like a shot, Virgil and Brains were right behind him. "Where are we going?" Virgil asked as they ran down the hall toward an exit.

"Riley Air Force Base," Scott replied, hitting the red emergency door full-force. "Dad's got a friend there who owes us."

Alan's eyes zeroed in on the blip that appeared at the far outer edge of the radar screen. He punched several keys on the computer, his frown deepening with each returned display. A coded signal appeared in a small window on the upper right corner of the monitor on his father's desk.

Incoming craft. Unable to identify. Does not respond to hails.

"Shit." He opened a channel that would echo throughout the island. "We have a bogey at nine o'clock. Unable to identify aircraft. Not responding to hails from Thunderbird 5. Target is solitary, flying at 1-2-4-5 miles-per-hour. Height, eight thousand forty-two feet and descending. Range, ninety-two miles. Report status!"

"Hospital Ward is locked down," came Ruth's voice through the speakers.

"Defense Control is a green," Gordon said. "All hands reporting ready."

"F.A.B.," Alan replied. "Grandma, is Dad awake yet?"

"No, Alan. They're both still out like a light."

"All right, then. Since they're not able to tell us more than what we already know, and since John can't get this aircraft to respond, if it doesn't change course in the next ten minutes, we are going to assume Base is under attack. Get ready."

As Alan closed the channel, he wiped beads of sweat from his brow. Never before had Tracy Island been on HAS. It was all theoretical. Sure, they'd practiced it in drills, but it had always been his father, Scott or John in control. He watched the green blip moving ever nearer the island. Jeff wasn't here. Scott wasn't here. John wasn't here. That left Alan to make all the decisions.

What if I fuck it up? he thought as the blip moved closer yet. What if I make a mistake and we all die?

He remembered back to the talk he had with his father the day before. He had confided some insecurities as to his ability to take over Thunderbird 1 after his father's death. He didn't believe he could lead like Scott could, that he could make those kinds of snap decisions that were naturally a part of being the first one on-scene, and of manning Mobile Control. What was it his dad had said?

You are more than capable, son. Just because you're not my firstborn doesn't mean you're not a leader.

"You're right, Dad," Alan said aloud, the look of honest truth on his father's face coming to his mind's eye. "I can do this." He nodded his head and sat up straight in the chair. "I can and I will." Opening the island-wide channel, he said, "Aircraft still on same course and heading. Prepare for attack."

"Alan is a sitting duck," Tin-Tin said, her voice strained. "If that aircraft fires on the house, he won't survive."

"Tin-Tin!" Gordon turned excitedly in his chair to face her. "Wasn't Brains working on some sort of shield system for the island?"

"Yes! But it's not been tested."

"I can't think of any better time than the present. If it fails, we won't be any worse off than we are now."

"What sort of shield system?" Penny asked.

"You see," Tin-Tin began as she came to stand next to Penny's console, "there are small devices we've planted throughout the island. We were going to test it while Mr. Tracy was visiting you, and surprise him with it upon his return."

"What do the devices do exactly?"

"If they work as predicted, Gordon," she replied as her fingers began flying across the keyboard, "once you bring the system on line, a signal activates each device. They produce a network of ionized electrons, which project into the air. Positive and negative naturally attract, and that's when the shield mechanism kicks in. This new compound Brains developed, he calls it S-13, it releases from the devices and attaches itself to the bond created between the electrons. The ionization causes the exterior of the molecules to almost solidify, theoretically making penetration impossible."

"That's a trifle too complex for me to grasp," Penny admitted.

Tin-Tin smiled as the program came on line.

"What about our missiles? Can they get out?"

"Yes, Penelope, they can. Theoretically, of course."

Gordon watched as she brought the system on line. "Think it'll work?"

"I hope so. For all our sakes."

The Hood looked out the cockpit window. So far all he could see was the vast South Pacific stretching to the horizon. But he knew that somewhere in the middle of the dark blue waters, the base of International Rescue was just waiting for him. His scanners showed something about sixty-five miles ahead, something that looked like it might be an island of some sort. About twenty miles east of that, was another smaller island. He checked the coordinates of both. The larger one was closer to what he'd gotten from Jeff Tracy during their connection.

"There you are," he growled, an evil smile appearing on his face. "Are you ready for me, International Rescue?"

Alan waited. Gordon had told him of their plan to try Brains' new shielding system. Less than five minutes later, the light outside seemed to shimmer, and then a faint humming sound could be heard.

"It's up," Gordon announced.

Alan looked out the wall of windows where he could actually see a faint pinkish glow had surrounded them. He knew his brothers must be going crazy having to wait it out off-island, and wished for the tenth time that they were there. The green blip on the radar screen was coming closer...closer...closer. Alan closed his eyes. He'd said what he needed to say to his father. And he and Gordon were close...he was confident Gordon knew how he felt.

But what of Tin-Tin? Would he ever get the chance to find out if she was just toying with him, or if she really wanted him? And Grandma. She'd been his mother, for the most part, as he was growing up. He had never thanked her for everything she'd done. Then there was Kyrano, Tin-Tin's mysterious father, a man Alan had never been quite comfortable around. But he had helped Alan on more than one occasion, and now Alan didn't know if he'd ever be able to thank him for it.

Most of all what made him sick was the idea that he'd never see Scott, Virgil or Brains again. He and Brains had always gotten along very well. Their minds worked in much the same way. Alan's mildly genius IQ sometimes made his leaps in logic difficult for others to grasp, at best. But with Brains, he could really let his mind go, take those leaps and know they would be instantaneously accepted.

Then there was Virgil. The man with a heart as big as the island itself. More than once, Virgil had seen to it that Alan calmly and clearly thought things through before acting. Al's impulsiveness had gotten him into trouble often. Through Virgil, he had begun to learn the value of thinking before he acted. And in those rare instances where he hadn't, Virgil had never judged him, using the situation instead to point out what he might have done differently. Teased him mercilessly? Yes, of course. After all, what were big brothers for? But never judged.

And Scott. A father in many of the ways Jeff had never been able to be, especially during Alan's early years. Who had dried his tears when he cried? Scott. Who had stayed with him through every illness he'd suffered as a child, no matter what? Scott. Who had taught him to be strong, to never let anything get him down? Who had he depended on his whole life? Scott. His oldest brother, often the one who was hardest on him, meant so much more to him than he'd ever let on.

The blip came closer. "If I fail," he said quietly, wishing Scott could hear him, "I'm going to make sure that you're proud of the fact that I tried." He turned and tapped a coded message to John up in Thunderbird 5. Wish us luck. John's reply, when it came, made Alan smile.

You don't need luck. You're a Tracy.