AN: I don't mean to prolong the agony unnecessarily, but…oh, who am I kidding? Of course I am! Just a quick one. Naturally the Tracys and their friends are as worried as everyone else . . .
So, everything was over now. Everything was over. They were free to carry on with their lives as they saw fit. Rescues, shopping, anything they wished. But for the Tracy family, Grandma, Jeff, Scott, Virgil, Gordon and Kayo everything was not over. It had simply stopped.
Thunderbird Three was missing, and it had not shown up on any scans. John and Alan, whom had been hiding in her luggage locker were missing along with the rocket.
Lady Penelope and Colonel Casey were the subject of their gratitude at clearing their names, but Lady Penelope could not help but feel at least partially responsible for the disappearance of Alan and John. Responsible and very guilty.
Of course, they all assured her that there was no way that she could possibly have known, or have guessed that Three would not be sent to the same place as One and Two; they all assured her that she was not responsible for the two missing young men, but she saw it in their eyes…or thought she did. The shadow that lurked beneath the hollow smiles when any of her friends talked to her. How could they not blame her when she had as good as assured them that she had had it all worked out?
Worse still, they had been in their civilian clothing. With Thunderbird Three in space, which was almost certain under the circumstances, how long could they stay alive without their space-suits? She wanted to ask whether Alan was in the habit of keeping spare uniforms in the rocket, but the words died on her tongue, somehow afraid of the wrong answer, afraid also of reminding everyone that her mistake might have cost the two young men their very lives.
If the death of the two missing Tracys was ever confirmed, would Jeff or his family ever talk to her again? Would anyone?
Penelope had never been the type to dwell on the past, or on things that could not be changed; but then she had never been quite in this position before. To be the potential cause of a death…no, two deaths. With difficulty, she kept a hold on her last meal, but she could not face eating anything more until she knew for certain that the boys were alright.
They accompanied Colonel Casey to the GDF base in Wellington, where she took them into the restaurant where she knew no one would dare to disturb them. Teas and coffees all round was all they would accept, and they all seemed to sit on the edge of their seats, uptight and on edge, peering around in barely concealed impatience.
"Jeff!" Casey exclaimed eventually. "Unless you guys have another space ship on hand, there is nothing you can presently do except wait. I have three of my ships searching for Thunderbird Three, but being slower than yours, it will take time."
"With that targeting device that zeroes in on voice patterns we daren't even try to contact them directly…" Jeff pushed his coffee away untouched and put his head in his hands. Lady Penelope was suddenly galvanized.
"Jeff, Brains is working on that thing, finding a way to jam it or reverse it or something…and one of the scientists at Tracy Industries is working on the same thing. Perhaps…"
Kayo paused in her impatient pacing.
"Well then, shouldn't we go back to Tracy Island to find out what Brains has discovered?"
Penny shook her head.
"No. He'll contact us himself as soon as he has found a way to do it safely. Why don't we go and see Miss Whittier at the lab in the Canberra office?"
Jeff shook his head.
"Kayo, what say you join Lady P and Parker, whilst the rest of us return to Tracy Island? There is something there I would like to do…"
Scott and Virgil exchanged glances, a familiar feeling in the pit of their gut. They had been here before. Two years ago, because of the Hood, dad had gone missing. Now, because of the Hood, Alan and John were both missing along with their space-rocket.
How long would it be before…? Gordon exploded, shattering the moment.
"Dad, we have Thunderbirds One and Two here, all fueled up! We have no rescues on, we have to do something…couldn't we launch and search all the Hood's likely hiding places here on the ground? At least eliminate them from…er… well, you know…"
Jeff looked at his three sons, and he could tell exactly what was in their minds. The same as the fears and terrors in his own, accept that they had been here before. How could he possibly start dictating to them how he thought they should react this time? He caught Scott's questioning look and half smiled.
"Just come home before you run out of fuel. I would hate to have to ask Grace here to fish you out of the ocean."
Lady Penelope touched Scott's arm.
"Comms are on. It's voices that thing traces, so provided you do not speak aloud, you can still communicate. Use sign language, or morse code."
Scott nodded, gripping her arm tightly. As he passed her, he whispered in her ear,
"Penny, stop stabbing yourself. You are not to blame. It's not your fault."
The tears started to her eyes at his kind reassurance, and she blinked them away hurriedly and smiled.
"I keep trying to tell myself that, but…"
He kissed her nose, and left. Virgil gave her a brief nod, avoiding direct eye contact and followed Scott closely. Gordon bounded to his feet, relieved to have something useful to do at least. He gave her a hug.
"Make sure you come to Tracy Island when you're done, huh? With the rest of us out searching, he will need you." Then he was gone.
Whilst Virgil kept his eyes on the scanner, Gordon kept his eyes on the ground, looking for anything, any sign of anything that warranted investigation.
The loss of Thunderbird Three could be dealt with, as with Five. She could eventually be replaced. But nothing and nobody could replace Alan or John. Alan. Gordon's only younger brother. He remembered the sweet little blond-haired baby that had gurgled happily at him whenever Gordon had peered curiously into his crib as a toddler.
He remembered teaching little Alan how to draw people…rather than a large round blob with eyes and feet, and hands instead of ears, Gordon had shown him how to give the round blob a body, and to put the hands and feet in the right places. Little Alan had giggled, and nodded excitedly. Ten minutes later, Gordon had been presented with a folded piece of paper, with a much more realistic drawing of a person with a thick thatch of yellow-hair, coloured in with yellow crayon, and someone with grown-up writing had written inside;
"To Gordy love Allie"
Gordon had given his baby brother a big hug, and told him he would treasure it always.
He always had treasured that first little card Allie had made for him. He still had it, safely inside a clear plastic pocket where it would not be damaged by the ravages of time. He kept it in his underwear drawer, hidden safely beneath his socks.
Little Allie had grown and matured quickly, being surrounded by four brothers so much older than himself, and yet he had never truly lost his childish ways.
Alan still pouted when he could not get his own way.
It was still easy to get around a cross Alan by tickling him. Alan was ticklish all over, and he adored being tickled.
He could not imagine life without his little brother. His partner-in-mayhem. Alan was really good at thinking of ways to annoy people, and he was always willing to join in a bout of mischief. Gordon could only think how dull life on Tracy Island would be without Alan around. He had to be alright. Alan and John had to be alive somewhere. They just had to be. What was the point of anything otherwise?
In Thunderbird One, Scott dropped off dad and grandma, then took off to start his search, knowing in his heart that it was futile, but refusing to admit it to himself. Refusing to give in.
His heart hurt so much at the thought that two of his siblings were missing. It was his responsibility to take care of them. He was the eldest. He remembered when he had become a big brother for the very first time, when baby John had been born. The baby had been so little and helpless looking, that he had felt the need to guard it, because it couldn't look after itself. It was too little. Mommy had let him help her take care of his little brother, and told him he was a big strong help, and daddy had told him that as Johnny's big brother, he could help to protect him, and teach him things.
He remembered teaching little John how to be a big brother to baby Virgil when he came along, and later when Gordy came along, he was big enough to take his little brothers to the park at the end of the block and look after them. He had loved then and defended them all their lives, swearing to himself that no one would hurt any of his little brothers.
When little Allie had come along, he had felt, if anything, even more protective, because the baby didn't have a mommy to look after him; and daddy was so sad all the time, Scott just wanted to be there, to care for and protect the little one. Now he had failed.
Scott knew he was being too hard on himself, but the thought that history might be repeating itself was almost overwhelming. First, mom had died, then grandad, then dad had disappeared and now this. He suddenly wished he could have had someone with him, someone to talk to, to try and control the whirling maelstrom in his mind. But he could not even call anyone on the comms.
Where were Alan and John? Were they still alive? What had been happening to them?
He bit back his negative thoughts and emotions with effort, and directed his whole attention on searching the ground. The GDF were searching outer space. They were nothing if not thorough. If the guys were still alive, they would be found.
Wouldn't they?