Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They are the intellectual and actual property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. Any original characters are a product of my imagination.
AN: At last! It's out! For anyone that's still reading this, apologies for the long wait. I had uni exams and teaching pracs from October to November, which meant a lot of ff. net stuff got placed on a back burner while I prepared for that. Anyway, it's up now, so enjoy.
The sequel to Devils in Disguise, which is currently housed in the 'M' section of this site for subject matter and safety.
Needless to say, as a sequel story, OCs established in the other tales will feature, briefly, in this, but I'm thinking it could still be understood if you haven't read them. Anyway, enough from me... hope you enjoy.
Chapter 21
How she made it home, she would never know, but she had not been able to stop herself from shaking after hearing Scott's confession. Oh, God, what if she was subpoenaed and had to reveal what Scott had said? She wasn't sure that she could categorically state what Scott had mentioned before with no ill effects – instead, his adamant statement of not killing the Hood would work in his favour, but the words that followed it… that worried her. That negated the actions he had not carried out.
"Tash?"
The voice from the door sounded distant, even though there was less than five feet between where John was standing and where she was standing. She ignored him, raking through her cupboard to find a jumper to wear to stop her from shaking.
"What happened?"
Tash didn't know what to do, but she couldn't even tell John; the less people that knew, the better. There was only one person who could offer her advice on what to do.
"John, get the lawyer on the phone. I need to talk to her."
There was something in his sister-in-law's voice that made him comply. Dialling the number and handing her the handset, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever's happened, you know we'll get through it as a family. Okay?"
Tash nodded, even though she wasn't sure if they could get through this. "John? Keep the kids out of here, please? I don't want them listening in on this."
"I'll take them for ice-cream, okay?"
"Sounds good. Thanks."
Within minutes, she heard her two eldest kids chattering to Uncle Johnny as the front door slammed behind them, and she breathed out slightly. At least there was no chance of them overhearing this, and her youngest was napping in his cot, so he wouldn't hear it either. Still trembling as the ringing tone played through the phone, Tash lowered herself to perch on the edge of the bed.
"Ms. Julian? I need to talk to you. Scott said something to me today, and if anyone needs to know about it, it's you."
"Okay, what did Scott say to you?"
The voice on the other end of the phone call was calming and reassuring, which was the only thing calming Tash down.
"He told me…" Tash trailed off, unsure. Doubt crawled back in; what if telling Christine Julian what he said was actually going to make it worse?
"What did he say? It could be the difference between him being sentenced and him walking free."
"He told me that even though he didn't kill the Hood, there were times when he wished he had."
Silence from the other end of the phone. This did not bode well, she felt.
"Apart from me, have you told anyone else this?" Julian eventually asked.
"No. It didn't seem like something to spread around."
"Good. Keep it that way."
Finally, Tash plucked up the courage to voice the thought that had been plaguing her since she heard Scott's words. "What if they ask me to testify? I don't want to divulge what he said."
"You won't have to; you'll be covered by spousal privilege," Julian informed her. "Since the two of you are married, you don't have to reveal anything he said to you over the period you've been married."
Sagging into the mattress in relief, Tash let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. No one was going to find out what Scott said; it would be their secret, and she would take it to her grave.
The pair continued to talk for a bit, with the lawyer walking Tash through the steps that would take place as Scott's trial date crept closer. Julian knew that this, of all the things she could have done, would have reassured her client's wife more than anything else. Sometimes not knowing what to expect made everything infinitely worse than it really was. Eventually, the conversation drew to a close, and with a promise to keep Tash updated with every step, the lawyer disconnected. Placing the phone back in the docking bay, Tash headed back to the room, making a detour to pick up Nick, as he had woken up from his nap and was grizzling.
"Yeah, you miss Daddy and you want to be in his arms, not mine," she muttered, bouncing him in her arms in a futile attempt to comfort him. "Believe me, I want him here just as much as you do. Three months, baby boy, and Daddy'll be back home, back with us, and he'll be able to lavish his undivided attention on you."
She didn't think about what would happen if Scott didn't make it back with them. She couldn't; Scott was close to resigning himself to life behind bars, so she had to be strong enough for both of them.
Unknown to them, they were being observed from the doorway of the room. Josie Tracy leaned against the door-frame, twin emotions tugging at her; pride in her granddaughter-in-law for her unwavering belief in Scott's innocence in the crime he was accused of committing, and worry for them all, for if Scott was found guilty of the charge, Josie was absolutely sure that all aspects of the Tracy family would fall apart.
Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward was clearly a much loved member of the British aristocracy. That much was apparent with the turn out to the funeral. Almost all of the available International Rescue secret agents had turned up to pay their respects to their fallen comrade. There were too many people for such a sombre event, Jeff felt, as he stood near a window, staring into nothing as he swirled some whiskey around in the bottom of a tumbler.
Jeff could remember his first encounter with the young aristocrat, all those years ago. It had been on a trip to Oxford to surprise his eldest son for his 21st birthday that Jeff first encountered Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. And surprised Scott was, for what should have been a night filled with booze, gambling and general debauchery without paternal or parental interference had morphed into a semi-civilised meal since the old man was in town – something that made Jeff chuckle. Of course, a more civilised dinner with Jefferson Tracy in tow had narrowed down Scott's guest list to those that already moved in or were familiar with high society. The meal, Jeff remembered, was a pleasant one; Scott had sat on his right hand side, and Penny had sat on the other, with mutual friends and acquaintances filling in the gaps at the round table. They had spent the evening talking to each other, and by the end of dessert, Jeff had been most intrigued by her. She was young, he would admit to that much, but based on the information he had gleaned from her, she craved more out of life than the high society duties that she had grown up with. She wanted to do something meaningful, yet not take credit for it; she wanted to be a mysterious stranger that could help the world in times of trouble. International Rescue, still a pigment of his imagination at the time, could have used a woman like that in some capacity. The seed had been sown and he stored it away in the back of his mind, until he was ready to approach her with his job prospectus. The rest, as they say, was history, and the day that Lady Penelope agreed to be International Rescue's London agent was a memorable day for all of them; Penny had gotten them out of more tight scrapes than Jeff could remember.
"Dad." Virgil placed his hand on Jeff's shoulder, looking as miserable and weary as the oldest Tracy felt. "Penelope left this for you."
Numbly, Jeff accepted the mini-disc that was pressed into his hands.
"You should probably find somewhere to watch it, Dad," Virgil continued. "It was in a note she left for me and that was something she wanted you to do; to watch it as soon as I gave it to you."
"Right. Well," Jeff cleared his throat, glancing at the throng of people. It was so crowded that no one would miss him if he disappeared for half an hour or so. "I guess I'd better follow through with Penny's last wishes."
Sidling his way out of the room, Jeff trudged up the stairs and headed to one of the many guestrooms in Penny's – no, not Penny's anymore, now it belonged to the International Rescue agent that would take her place; Penny was quite clear on that in her will – and closed the door behind him, sliding dead bolts into place. Sinking into the spring mattress of the bed, Jeff inserted the disc into the player.
The last video message, Jeff knew instantly. Whenever a new operative joined their ranks, it was a requirement that they created one of these, just in case. It was a morbid one, but an important requirement; it would help explain all the lies and sneaking around an agent had to do when they were alive to their nearest and dearest. Parker had been listed as her next-of-kin, but since Parker had gone too, Jeff felt that there should have been someone there who had been close to her to see Penny's last words and wishes. As the mini-disc began to play on screen, Jeff pressed a button to pause it. It was only right that Virgil, Gordon and Alan saw this too; after all, Penny had saved their skin more times than he cared to remember. A few buttons were pressed on his watch, sending a message that called the boys back to his location.
With his sons settled around him, Jeff let the video message begin. It was a slight shock to see Penelope's face on screen with the knowledge that they would never see it again, but the Tracy clan steeled themselves to watch the video message right to the end.
It began with Penelope thanking Parker and her household staff for years of loyal service, with each member of staff receiving a mention. Jeff made a mental note to pass on the message to her staff. Then, in a move that surprised Jeff and the other Tracy boys, she then went on to address every single member of the Tracy family.
To Alan and Gordon, she expressed her love of the practical jokes they had played on various family members over the years that she had known them prior to the inception of International Rescue. She admired their vivaciousness and implored them to not let her death hamper such an important part of their personalities.
To Virgil, she commended him on his talents, thanking him for his generous offers to play the piano at the charitable galas she hosted every other month. Not many people would have taken the time out to do that pro-bono.
To John and Scott, she advised them to loosen up once in a while, otherwise they would have had cardiac failure by the time they hit their thirties. Sometimes things in life didn't go quite as planned, but there was no point in tying themselves up in knots about it; they were better off just rolling with the punches at times.
To Jeff, she simply asked him not to blame himself for her demise.
"I know what I'm signing up for," Penny's recorded voice streamed through the speakers. "I know what it may cost me, and to be quite honest, I've made my peace with it. After all, a wise young man – one of your sons, incidentally – once told me that there were two things worse than death; living without reason, and dying without honour. If I should die during my time as an International Rescue agent, you must know that neither scenario applies. This is a worthy cause, one that I am proud to be associated with."
That almost broke Jeff, having to listen to Penny play down her sacrifice to keep an organisation that was in a state of limbo alive.
"One more thing, Jeff. International Rescue continues to operate. Don't let the boys, or yourself, give up on it. There needs to be a source of humanity and unadulterated goodness in the world."
With that, the disc cut off, leaving four very stunned Tracys sinking into the mattress they were sitting on. After what seemed like an eternity, Jeff rose to his feet and stared at his sons, taking stock of all the boys that were present. A perceptive nod from Gordon.
"I think, boys," he said, so quietly that they had to strain their ears to hear it. "I think it's time we brought International Rescue back online."