hello! it's been a while, but here's the next chapter. i can afford to mess around for a little, since i'm too tired to practice and i haven't got anything else to do. i got back from my trip down to manchester today, so just glasgow left. i think it went alright, but... i'll find out before christmas, anyway. now i've got to go back to school, straighten out a hell of a lot of confusion and give tours to the general public (we're having an open day to mark the school's 50th anniversary). for now, though, enjoy!

Ch. 11

Catrìona tried to stop shaking as she knelt beside Radcliffe. The old man was bleeding quite badly, but, from her limited medical knowledge, it seemed to be only a flesh wound. He looked up and gave her a tight smile despite the obvious pain he was in.

"I'll be alright." She nodded, then froze as she felt something prod into her back.

"Get up," said a voice harshly. She did so slowly, holding up her hands.

Just five minutes ago, everything had been calming down after John's reaction, when a troop of men and women clad in black had stormed the conference room. They'd quickly herded all the scientists into the centre of the room and told them to sit in the seats. All except Meyer, who'd panicked and run. Radcliffe had chased after him, intent on stopping him and calming him down, only to get a warning bullet in the thigh. Meyer had been thrown roughly back into the group in the centre.

"Get him back in the middle with the others," growled the man nearest them, jerking his gun almost casually.

"He needs a doctor!" said Catrìona, bending down to help him all the same.

"Move it!"

Catrìona helped the old scientist hobble over to the chairs, where he collapsed onto the nearest one. Three more men and a woman came in through the door dragging John and Dr. Taylor with them.

"Any more?" asked one woman, who was clearly the leader; her belt, instead of being black like the others', was dark green. One of the men shook his head.

"The rest of the building looks like it's being re-furbished. There's a small number of staff downstairs, but we've got them holed up in the staff room behind reception." He pushed his captives onto the chairs beside Radcliffe.

"Can I just ask what you're doing?" called Stephanie Denver, standing up. The woman with the green belt, middle aged with dark hair pulled back into a tight bun shot her a mocking look.

"We're holding you hostage, what does it look like?"

"Yes, quite," snapped Stephanie. You've got to hand it to her, thought Catrìona. She's not exactly afraid to stand up to people.

"However," she went on, "you haven't exactly told us why you're holding us hostage. This is simply a group of scientists sharing what they know with each other."

"I am aware of that. And what knowledge," murmured the woman. "Our task is to extract that knowledge with whatever means we deem necessary, then to take one scientist in particular back home with us."

"And who would that be?" asked someone near the back.

"A Professor Hiram K. Hackenbacker, is he present?"

TB

Brains had heard enough. He wriggled backwards along the ventilation duct, trying not to sneeze with all the dust floating around.

He'd nearly been caught when he'd stepped out of the cupboard, but fortunately the group of soldiers had been looking the other way. He'd been dismayed to see John and Dr. Taylor in their grasp. After they'd passed, he'd followed them a little way until he was sure they were headed for the conference room, then set about trying to find a ventilation shaft of some kind. It was a pretty old building, so he was confident he'd find one.

He'd eventually located one in one of the little side-corridors that didn't really go anywhere. Then he'd had the problem of climbing in.

Unscrewing the cover from the opening had been easy enough; he always kept a set of screwdrivers on his person, just in case. After it was open, however, he struggled for a good five minutes before finally managing to climb in

I'm so unfit, he thought. I'm going to have to use that gym back on Tracy Island some time.

He'd crawled through the shaft for a while, heading in the rough direction he knew the conference room to be in, and had been rewarded moments later with a view over the room.

It was bad. All the scientists and John had been herded into the middle of the room, where the chairs were. From where Brains was, it looked as if Radcliffe had been injured. The men and women with guns had surrounded them, and Stephanie Denver had asked all the questions Brains wanted to know at that particular moment, bar one: who were these people? Then Brains had heard something he definitely did not want to know: they wanted him.

He crawled back out of the duct and back to his closet.

What did they want with him? And why him specifically? Why not any of the other brilliant minds in the room? The only thing Brains could think of was that they wanted International Rescue's secrets. But how did they know? Jeff Tracy had always been careful regarding security, there was no way they could know.

That didn't matter right now, though. Right now, Brains had to call the island and tell them what had happened.

TB

Jeff felt his stomach lurch as Brains' signal went off again. Had John worsened?

"Go ahead, Brains," he said. He was startled to see that Brains was back in the cupboard that he'd called from earlier.

"What's going on?"

"Mr Tracy, I'm, ah, afraid that the, um c-conference is n-now, ah, a h-hostage situation." Brains was whispering, but Jeff caught every word.

"A hostage situation?" asked Jeff worriedly, pressing the button he knew would summon his sons. "How?"

"I'm n-not sure. I'm hidden, ah, in a c-c-closet, but, um, the others are t-trapped in the, ah c-conference room."

"Do you have any idea what they want? What about the people outside? Have the police been notified?"

"I d-don't know. All I know is, ah, that they intend t-to, um, g-get information of, ah, the s-scientists." Brains' eyes shifted. Jeff sighed. His employee had always been a bad liar, one of the reasons he always refused to play poker with the Tracy sons.

"There's more, isn't there, Brains?" asked Jeff wearily as Scott, Virgil and Gordon came into the room."

"There's more to what?" asked Scott, standing beside his father's desk.

"I'll fill you in when you're in the air. Scott, head out to New York right away, please. And Virgil..." Jeff hesitated, deliberating whether Thunderbird Two would actually be needed. He quickly came to a decision. "Take Pod 5 with the fire fighting equipment, and take Gordon along with you. I can't guarantee you'll be needed, but I'd rather you were there, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"I'll tell you when you're in the air," Jeff repeated, at the same time pressing a button under his desk to contact Alan.

TB

Brains shifted as quietly as possible, trying to stretch his cramped limbs in the tiny closet. He really didn't want to tell Jeff that the scientists were after him, but, at the same time, if they did know he was connected with International Rescue, it was a major security breach that they couldn't afford to ignore.

"Now, Brains, what else?" Jeff's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"H-have you t-told Alan, ah, about the s-situation?"

"Yes, Brains, and he's contacting the police as well." Jeff sounded harassed, as he always did during a rescue. "Now will you please tell me what it is you're not telling me?"

Brains sighed.

"They s-said something, ah, about t-taking me, um, with them. I was w-wondering if they, ah, know I'm with, um, International R-rescue."

"Meaning we have a security breach."

"Y-yes, sir."

Jeff sighed. Through the tiny speakers in Brains' watch, it sounded like someone had dropped frozen peas into a funnel.

"We'll need to investigate this. Right now, though, I want you to stay put and contact Scott with everything you know. He can liaise with the police and perhaps you can come up with something."

"They'll know s-someone, ah, in the b-building is, um, involved with International R-rescue."

"That's a risk we'll have to take. So long as no one identifies you, it should be fine."