Before the heavy metal door closed on the escape hatch sealing Terry into the darkness, he found himself standing in a three story rusting metal tube that was wide enough to surround five grown men. An equally rusting steel ladder climbed upward, disappearing into the darkness far above. Determined to escape, Terry set his right foot on the rung in front of him. As he began gingerly climbing the ladder, the rapidly consuming fire searched for fuel and found a natural gas pipeline running throughout the missile base. The flames licked hungrily at the little amount of vapor still trapped in the corroded steel pipes, causing a series of tremendous explosions that followed the pipeline. The power unleashed shattered the escape ladder Terry had begun climbing. Dust, dirt and rusted pieces of steel rained on top of him so thickly that he had no choice but to tumble back the way he came through the control room he'd just tried to escape.

Throwing open the hatchway's door, the maddened man shielded his face as he looked for the exit Amanda had run through earlier, heat slamming into his body as he ran. His clothes smoldered as he tripped over the debris that continued to fall from the ceiling above. As he blocked the flames from his eyes, his booted foot caught on something, sending him crashing into the floor. Gasping, he rolled up onto his knees and came face to face with David's burning body, the sight of which caused him to stop and stare in abject horror. In the throes of his madness, the flames dancing within the empty eye sockets, a growing toothy smile, and smell of burning flesh reanimated his dead partner. Terry scrambled to his feet and ran out of the exit, screaming hoarsely. Running down the hallway, he tripped over a chunk of debris, rolling onto the floor which put out the flames burning through his clothing. The man Jeff Tracy once entrusted with his life as well as that of his sons hacked and coughed a curse. "Count the hours, Jeff. Count the minutes! Because somehow, some way-I'll kill you!"

From the depths of his madness, he could see Amanda's dirt smudged face, her filthy, matted hair, and her wild green eyes filled with fury. "You! Free! Never!" she cried out.

"Leave me alone!" he bellowed.

"You'll never be free and you won't ever kill Jeff Tracy!" she shouted.

"Shut up!" Terry roared at the illusion that followed him as he fled.

"Never!" she screamed back at him, following him as he left.

"I'll kill you!"

"Never!" she shrieked.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, swinging a fist at her illusion, while far up ahead in the center section of the base, the flesh and blood Amanda dove through the short circuiting doorway and into the thick, blanketing darkness, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the one ton block of steel as it struck the bottom of its frame. The door then rose slightly 6 inches before stopping from a lack of power. Gathering the little strength she had left, she pushed herself up on her hands and knees to continue fleeing, only to be knocked back down to the floor as the natural gas lines blew. More dirt and gritty grime dug into her wounds as she laid on the ground, waiting for the quakes to settle down. "H-h-how did it ever come to all this?" choking a whisper to herself as unconsciousness pulled her back down in its cold empty grip. "John? Where are you?"

Meanwhile, the one person who filled Amanda's last conscious thoughts struggled to simply stand and walk. Having gone without sleep for nearly 48 hours, John half hung between the shoulders of a nervous Brains and a very worried Alan, the current commander of Thunderbird 5. "I wanna drink!" announced a prickly blonde bearded John as he was helped through the airlock on Thunderbird 5.

Delighted, at first, in having communications restored again due to the destruction of the missile base's computer systems, Alan was instantly dismayed to hear Brains calling on him for help, but between the two of them, they found a way to link Thunderbird 3's navigation system with Thunderbird 5, providing a way for Alan to navigate the ship by proxy, while Brains piloted.

"Sorry, bro'," quipped Alan, "the wet bar's closed for the duration up here. When we get home, I'll get you a shot of Father's secret stash. In the meantime, Electrolyte Plus is the best I can offer. Tips would be nice, but not necessary, " he joked as they got his exhausted brother to sit down in one of the lounge chairs for a few moments. "Ooof! You're gaining weight, pal!"

Coughing weakly, John responded to Alan's teasing by shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. "You're getting gray!" he shot back.

Seeing how dry John's mouth looked, Alan patted the older man's shoulders sympathetically. "Ooo! That hurt! You look terrible. Do me a favor: Stay here and don't move! I'm going to get you something to drink to fight the dehydration and then we'll help you to bed. Ok?"

"M-m-make mine a S-s-s-scotch on the rocks, thank you," John moaned as he dropped his head into his palms and tried to rub away the pain he felt in his face. "I wanna go home, sleep in my own bed in my own room and punch the lights out of the first guy that tries to wake me up"

Solving the problem of navigation with only one person on board to pilot the spacecraft helped to set Brains' worries aside for a short time until Thunderbird 3 slipped into its berth aboard the satellite, but as soon as fresh oxygen filled the airlock and Alan appeared on the other side of the door, the weight of Brains' crime weighed heavily on him once again.

"John, I'm-I'm sorry, but there's s-s-something I-uh-have to tell you," Brains began. "Something I-I-I have to tell the both of you-I guess."

Having borne the guilt he'd felt since he'd ordered Space Observatory 3 to strike the missile site, Brains couldn't stand it any longer. Logic suggested that it would be better to have John coming after him in his weakened state rather than when the gifted astronaut was fit and in his right mind. The young engineer took a deep breath.

"You know," Alan commented. "I hate it when you start out by saying something like that,"

"Tell us what?" asked John. "And tell me fast because I'm about to pass out!"

"Again...ouch!" remarked Alan dryly, which earned him a slap on the shoulder.

"Alan, go get me a tall glass of ice water," John ordered, his temper growing short.

Hesitating, Alan walked slowly backwards towards the kitchen while Brains took another deep breath. "S-Space O-O-Observatory 3 did not strike T-Tracy Island," Brains began.

"Brains! That's fantastic! How do you know?" John groaned with obvious relief. It meant they had a home to return to and International Rescue would continue operating as always. "I take it you had something to do with it. Where did you choose for the new target?"

Taking a deep breath to calm the jitteriness he felt, Brains replied, "Terry's missile base."

As an appalling silence fell over the lounge from Brains' announcement on Thunderbird 5, the painful knot in Virgil's stomach continued to grow unabated. His eldest brother and the closest friend he had ever known had been forced to attain an unbelievable rate of speed to catch up with the Titan 2 missile which Terry had launched. From his own experience, Virgil knew the incredible G-forces Scott must have endured in order to knock the runaway missile into the Gulf of Mexico. Scott must not have been able to withstand the pressure and passed out. That meant Thunderbird 1 was now in a deadly power dive. Seconds and minutes crawled all over Virgil's body like ants at a picnic as time grew short and Scott hadn't answered any hails. "Come on, Scott!" he pleaded silently to his brother in the depths of his mind while his father tried to wake up the helpless pilot, spiraling toward Earth in Thunderbird 1. "You've got to pull out of that dive!" With that thought, a sense of deja vu hit Virgil solidly. Now why did those words sound so familiar all of a sudden?

In anger and helplessness, Virgil snapped back the lever that caused Thunderbird 2 to slide up its telescoping legs in order to free the pod where The Mole sat waiting. "International Rescue," Virgil announced with an ache in his heart. "Releasing pod...now!" Amanda's time was growing short as well as Scott's. There was nothing Virgil nor Gordon could do about Scott's situation, but they could do something for Amanda. "Gordon, prepare for boarding The Mole."

As Gordon reluctantly stood up, a strong commanding baritone came over the loudspeakers, causing Virgil's eyes to water and Gordon to leap out of his chair to run up behind Virgil. "Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2! Virgil! Gordon! This is Scott! Can you hear me!"

Virgil switched over to his telecom to answer, while, ever conscious of the mission at hand, he pressed the button that would lower Pod 4's flap. "Scott! Are we ever glad to hear your voice! Gordon was beside himself trying to get you to come to! We thought you were done for. Are you all right?" Virgil asked in a rush.

"Yes, I'm fine. Is Gordon crying?" Scott teased.

"No, he isn't," admitted Virgil, unable to see Gordon wiping his eyes. "I am, though."

With his hand firmly on Virgil's shoulder, Gordon agreed. "What happened, Scott?"

"I'll explain later, Gordon. What's your status?"

Virgil tapped his console to release the flap. "I've released the pod and am now lowering the flap,"

"According to the Doppler, there's no sign of Terry, Scott," Gordon cut in," Gordon cut in, his voice threatening to break under the relief he felt. "The equipment can distinguish three sections to the base. The fire is to the west of the base and is spreading. There's one hot spot that looks to be Amanda at about the center of the base and she's no longer moving. Scott, can you tell us anything more about the site?"

Scott radioed back. "The Titan 2 ICBM is designed pretty simply as far as layout is concerned. To the west is the control center to the rest of the base. At the center of the base is the access hatchway and the underground decontamination rooms are behind it. The third half is the missile silo itself. Sounds to me like Amanda is in the decontamination room or the first floor of the access room. A shame we don't have The Mole. For speed, you could blow a hole at the top of the decontamination room and just rappel down like it was a cave-"

"Scott, we can use The Mole," Virgil interrupted. "I slipped it in with Thunderbird 4 and"

"How the heck...?" Scott wondered aloud. "Right! My ETA's in 9.5 minutes. Get down there and bring Amanda back up. I'll secure Thunderbird 2 while you're doing that, and please, God, let nothing go wrong!"

"FAB, Scott. Come on, Gordon. Let's get going!"

As Virgil and Gordon ran to the service elevator down to Pod 4, a second small hot spot broke away from the larger mass on Thunderbird 2's Doppler system.