As Scott and Virgil neared the danger zone, a massive rusted steel plate snapped backwards with a loud clank to allow a rusty silver bullet weighing several tons to roar out of its silo enveloped in a cloud of fire and smoke. "What the hell was that?!" Virgil yelped as he fought the turbulence created by the missile's duel exhaust ports.

Behind Virgil, Gordon scrambled for the radar equipment in Thunderbird 2, throwing the fine tuned sensors at the missile as it flew into the air. Immediately, both Gordon and Virgil heard the beep-beep-beep from the computer. "Gordon?" Virgil asked worriedly.

"That's weird. The rocket's flight path is irratic," Gordon remarked. "Computer! Identify object!" he ordered, hoping that he could find some helpful information for Scott and then shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe this!"

"What is it, Gordon?!" Virgil replied, impatiently.

"It's identified as a Titan II missile!" Gordon exclaimed as a red dot appeared over the radar's screen, "And one more thing: That thing's got a live nuclear warhead!"

"The guy's insane!" Virgil exclaimed, dumbfounded at the news. "Scott-!"

"I heard, Virgil! Thanks!" Scott responded, "Thunderbird 1 breaking off rescue and going after Titan!"

From Thunderbird 2's view port, Virgil watched as Thunderbird 1's booster rockets shoved Scott skyward. "What do you think you're doing?!" he yelped, shaking his head while Gordon continued to study the rocket's behavior on the screen.

"I'm gonna take a tail shot at the blasted thing!" Scott radioed back before slipping an oxygen mask on.

As Scott yawed his ship skyward streaking upward past 27,000 ft., his mouth became one dark thin line. He wondered if he'd be able to pull this last stunt off as he chased after a mothballed weapon that was already at 55,000 ft. He'd have to reach Mach 24, roughly 16,000 mph in order to catch up with it and get into position to do anything about it.

"The way it's corkscrewing, it must be suffering from fuel degradation. Its guidance system is constantly correcting the flight path," he thought from observing the rocket's behavior. He felt the temptation to ask Gordon where its flight path would take it, but at any moment the missile could explode so it wouldn't matter where it was going. He had a choice of either using the machine cannon built into Thunderbird 1's nose cone and blow the missile up, releasing poisonous radioactive material to fall onto the Earth below, or use a billiard shot to its exhaust ports to knock it deep into the Atlantic with hopes that it would explode out of harm's way. Neither choice was good, but it was all he had.

Scott ordered the booster rockets for a continuous feed, causing the silver ship to climb faster and faster. "Mach 22!" he read out loud. "Mach 23! Mach 24!"

The G-forces increased along with the speed, crushing Scott deep into his flight seat. As his heart pounded faster and faster a rim of blackness appeared at the edge of his periphery. Sweat pored down his body as the heat increased to such a degree in the cabin that the refrigeration units in the fuselage could no longer keep him cool. His fingers were losing their feeling. Throwing an oxygen mask helped him breathe, but he was still gasping for air as Thunderbird 1 screamed closer to the Titan.

Fighting the darkness that fingered the edges of his tunnel vision, Scott readied the cannon and set the sight. "Concentrate, Tracy!" he told himself. "You get only one shot at this! Only one chance!"

The Titan's exhaust ports appeared in his sight as unconsciousness began to creep further into his mind. Ferociously, he fought it while firing instinctively. As the rocket roared past, bullets shot against and through the rusted exhaust ports, shattering the weakened metal.

Sitting at the onboard computer, Gordon watched in elation as the rocket's nose cone tipped away from Florida and wobbled its way towards the Atlantic. "Scotty! You did it! The missile's turning!"

Gordon watched the blip of the missile sailing towards the east, praying it would drop itself into the ocean before it exploded. At the same time, the blip that was Thunderbird 1 seemed to level off. "This is Thunderbird 2 calling Thunderbird 1! Come in Scotty!" he called out.

As Virgil approached the missile site, Gordon watched Thunderbird 1's trajectory leveling off and then begin a perilous decent downward. "Oh no! Virgil! He's crashing!"

In the briefing lounge on Tracy Island, Jeff groaned at Gordon's frightened announcement, but at the same time, he could see Amanda getting slowly to her feet, looking at the exit while Terry grinned madly back at him. "Come on, Amanda! Run! Get out of there!" he thought to himself.

Since the whole adventure began, Jeff had kept a firm grip on his feelings except when he said goodbye to the boys as they left the island. Now, he vented all his frustrations on the man who'd once been his friend and partner, praying Amanda would see it as an opportunity to escape. "All right, Terry. You've been saying you were going to send the angel of death to my doorstep but all you've done is postulate in front of the camera. As far as I'm concerned, Terry, you're nothing but a bloody bully, a total coward, and an absolute wimp!"

Getting onto her feet once more, Amanda kept one eye on Terry while she kept one eye on the exit.

His chair squeaked underneath him as Terry sat down, grinning madly. "Hate it when you lose, don't you?" he taunted. "You know, I just had a wonderful idea. I'll kill Amanda first and then I'll punch the button,"

"No!" Chris screamed as she ran up to the screen, "You can't! You can't do this! Let her go!"

Jeff caught Chris in a powerful grip to hold her back. He could see Amanda walking out backwards towards the exit while keeping an eye on Terry. "Good girl," he thought. "Keep going, Amanda. Keep going!"

Chris' reactions swelled Terry's sense of final victory against his old enemy. He basked in the glow of Jeff's fighting to contain her fear and anger. "Oh, I want so much more out of you, Jeff. What more can I do to make you drink the bile you made me drink?!" he whispered aloud like a drunk lover.

Seeing Amanda was almost out the door, Jeff roared once more. "Terry, you are mad! You're insane! How could you have thought that you could have run my company?!"

"Your company?!" Terry shrieked. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be sitting on that nice little island, would you?! Now, I'm going to destroy---"

Jeff watched as Amanda slipped out the doorway and slapped the close switch. The door slid downward, clanging against the floor as steel struck steel.

Now Jeff pounced on him like a shark seeking its prey. "She's gone now, Terry!! You've got only two choices! You throw the switch on me or go after Amanda!"

Jeff's words bit hard into his antagonist's ego. Stopping his forward momentum, Terry twisted back. The last shred of humanity dissolved away in the overwhelming madness that now took over Terry's mind. Reaching for the enter button on the computer, Terry slammed his fist down while he hissed, "I'm going to watch you die, Tracy!"

Hanging 522 miles above the earth, a rusted, pockmarked Space Observatory 3 silently hung in the sky above the earth. Half of its identification lights were still working as it rotated on its own axis. As the last string of codes poured themselves into its wireless receiver, the twenty inch disk on its underside shifted for the first time in over 60 years. Brains' coordinates fed into the guidance system, lining it up for its final target while the laser system prepped itself for firing. Concentrated light pushed through a crystal lens and into well preserved gases within the tube of the laser, creating energy so hot that it forced its way from the laser's dish and struck the Earth below.