Hi there, and many thanks for reading and reviewing. Obviously, I do not own these guys. I just love them a lot. Edited.

24

GDF Airbase Perth, near Two Rocks-

Thunderbird 2 glided in like a giant green feather, using impellers most of the way. (Not to show off, but to silence most of her volcanic engine noise. No sense alarming the populace.) This gentle approach made for a smooth, easy landing and very short taxi.

The cargo-lifter touched down, bounced once, then rolled on in, stopping just short of the ambulance crew and waiting security team. Then, while Lee Taylor handled a mountain of post-flight regulations, Virgil and Colonel Casey went to work. Together, they triggered lift on the main aircraft; sending it rumbling skyward and freeing the pod to thump wide open.

Late afternoon sunshine and brisk sea air flooded the big metal cavern, as people stood up, warily clutching at those they loved best. A gangly, enthusiastic blond medical officer bounded up the ramp almost before it touched ground, already talking a mile a minute. Virgil picked up the thread of his discourse in mid-sentence.

"…basic clearance and triage, then run 'em through customs, just in case. Building a pen for the livestock, too, and base vet's already poised to start scanning for parasites. Afternoon, Ma'am, Sir," (as he saluted first Casey, then Virgil) "Welcome to Airbase Perth! Captain Rand, at your service!" And so forth.

The GDF crew pitched in immediately, spreading out through the pod and medical centre to place bright-coloured triage tags and pack people out. The medical officer stayed with Virgil and Casey, only pausing in his torrent of speech when he spotted Haven's bound-up and much-battered council.

"Good night! What happened to this lot?" he gasped.

Even the colonel looked startled, as that band of scheming old men had not been in such awful shape when she'd helped to restrain them.

Explained Virgil, quite calmly,

"They ignored the "fasten seatbelt" sign, and then we experienced some turbulence." To put it mildly. "These are the leaders of Haven. They kept the place secret for years, by eliminating unwanted visitors. Not sure if they have any WorldGov ID, but our jurisdiction ends here. They're all yours, guys."

Colonel Casey gave the young man a long and measuring stare, as though probing for lies. But Virgil's face was as open and mild as a baby's; his warm brown eyes the picture of trustworthy innocence.

"We'll take them from here, Virgil," she told him, at last, adding, "Thank you for letting me ride along. It was quite… instructive. I'll have plenty to tell the World Council, most of it good."

Virgil did not resume breathing normally until Casey gave him a final, firm handshake and then stalked off to snap orders. His gut had just unclenched, when somebody touched his right arm above the elbow.

"I beg your pardon… Virgil Tracy, isn't it?" chimed a sweet, lilting voice, attached to the beautiful female he'd spotted earlier, helping Gordon. Blonde, blue-eyed and slender, up close she had one of those faces that launched ships, stopped traffic and broke the d*mn internet.

"I am Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. Our fathers were quite well acquainted, and your family came to stay with mine over Unity hols once, many years ago."

Virgil frowned slightly, wringing his brain for any faint hint of a memory. Giant playground of a house, maybe? Sparkling lights and shining, robotic servants? Mountains of tasty food?

"I'm sorry, Miss. Scott or John would remember it better. They're older than me… but I'm happy to meet you now. How, um… how can I help you?"

Like, anything. Back-rub, walk on the beach, drinks and dancing…

Penny smiled up at him, looking like Botticelli's immortal painting of Venus. (With more clothes and less hair.)

"You were terribly charming and frightfully loud. An utter rascal who slid down all of the balustrades on his bum, and then ate insatiably…" Penelope laughed. "But I must own that you've changed a great deal in the interim. As to my purpose in presenting myself in this manner… I should like to offer my condolences upon the loss of your father, and…"

"He isn't dead," Virgil growled, looking away at the hurrying people and rapidly emptying pod. "No one's found a body, or the Zero-X."

Penny hesitated briefly, then gave him a warm, smiling nod.

"Of course, Virgil. Men like the Colonel do not go down easily. Doubtless, your father has washed up on an island, someplace, and is even now hard at work constructing a raft."

She got it. She understood. Didn't argue or "let him down gently". Virgil Tracy let himself relax and make eye contact once more.

"We'll find him," he assured her. "Dad 'll get out a signal somehow, and we'll go pick him up." He had to believe that. They all did.

Penelope smiled again, hand on his arm pressing warmly.

"If I may be so bold, Virgil… has International Rescue any need of assistance? Of… shall we say… a clandestine nature?"

It was an unfair question. Enthralled as he was by her touch, voice and beauty, Virgil would have said yes to any request, at all… but it worked. That was how Her Ladyship got her well-heeled foot in the door with IR. How she came to encounter the man she very much loved.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tracy Island, upon the surf-lashed rocks of the leeward shore-

He had allowed shock and alarm to drive him from the mind of Scott Tracy, when that scheming worm crashed Thunderbird 1. A foolish mistake, but easily reparable. Having emerged from his personal shuttle, the Hood now picked his way down to the shore, where Tracy's pilot survival bubble rose and fell with the sea, scraping rock.

Being curious about death, the Hood had many times placed himself in the minds of his victims whilst having them killed. Wanted to know what it felt like, you see. Time after time, whatever the method of ending life, their final darkness had always expelled him. He could not see what came after; if, indeed, anything did.

All of this should have made him proof against Tracy's suicidal crash-dive, but he'd "jumped the gun", as it were. Leaving the pilot's mind before time. Giving his victim a last, brief taste of freedom.

Now, the Hood tried to regain his grip on Scott Tracy, but the cur was fighting him. Worse, the psion could not bring his full force to bear; not with a cliffside trail to manage in gusting wind, hissing spray and slanting, purple-dark shadows.

"It is pointless to resist me," he taunted, edging closer to hammering waves and tall, craggy boulders. Closer to the son of his beaten enemy. "There is no place to hide yourself. No crevice in which to take shelter from one who is able to read your very thoughts."

The Hood hadn't dressed for an outdoor excursion. Such things were normally left to his mind-wiped servitors. Wearing dress shoes and an impeccably tailored suit, he refused to hurry. No need, when his quarry's mind glowed like a pain- and shock-tinged bonfire.

He looked on, amused, as the injured mongrel clambered out of that life-saving bubble and onto a spire of rock.

"You cannot evade or defeat me, boy. Your father lost to my power, and you are not him. Will never be him," the Hood sneered, preparing to strike harder, sink deeper, this time. Wave after wave of psionic force he sent at the pilot, who refused to crumble or let him inside.

"Don't have to defeat you," grunted Scott Tracy, weaving a bit, but still on his feet. "…'M not in this alone."

Utterly focused, the Hood failed to grasp what his quarry was saying. Never noticed the changes taking place higher up on the cliff. Did not detect the smooth motion of grappling arms and foam-hoses, as the Island's crash system whispered to life.

If he'd had full access to Scott Tracy's mind, the Hood would have seen what was happening above and behind him. Instead, he continued to stalk the injured pilot, as a stone wall first projected, then swung downward, revealing a skinny, bespectacled engineer.

Brains rushed out of that passage at the head of a mechanized army. Not just Max, but every repair and maintenance bot on the Island came rattling out through the cliffside door, all of them tracking the Hood. Not being human, they had no brain waves, and could not be sensed by a telepath.

Like a flock of steel mountain goats, they sprang to surround and confront the Hood, who was still some yards from Scott. Then Grandma remotely swiveled the leeward foam-cannon and pulled her trigger, sending a roaring torrent of dense, sticky suds blasting straight at their startled invader.

Might have been that, Max's electrical jolt, Brain's diamagnetic lift-beam, or just Scott's good, solid punch that knocked their attacker unconscious… but they never found out for sure.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thunderbird 3, in space near the giant Pac Orbital docking rig-

By this time, Alan R. Tracy had squirmed up out of the straps and copilot's seat. He was sick and dang tired of being left in the cockpit, while everyone else saved the day. Seriously, he wouldn't have put up with that crud in a videogame. Danged if he'd let it keep happening here, in actual life. Not when his family needed him.

Navigating 3's main passage like a pro, Al found his brother and sister a few minutes after he'd set the Bird on auto. Followed their locator beacon into the aft head, which was now an organic-mechanical nightmare of viewscreens, cables and ductwork, framing the Mechanic.

"Oh, crap…" Alan whispered, almost doing just that. Took him a second to realize that the hulking cyborg was frozen, trapped by the stasis patch on his tattooed chest. "How did he get in here?!"

Kayo snagged her blond brother out of the air, sending the novice Thunderbird pilot right into a pulsing bulkhead.

"Through an airlock, after that explosion, would be my guess," said their brother, John. "Not sure what he's after, besides escape. If he wanted to seize the ship, he's had plenty of chances."

Alan's brain was racing like his favourite rally team after the checkered flag.

"Okay, we got him… and maybe he knows about Dad, right? John, maybe we can make him tell us where Dad is! Listen, I mean it! We can't just hand him over to the GDF! He'll escape again and probably kill a base full of troops on his way out!"

John made brief, intense eye-contact, then looked away. Kay had always been able to make him listen, though. She'd always had the secret key that unlocked John Tracy.

"Alan's right," she said suddenly. "Before we do anything else, we've got to make him tell us what really happened to Dad. Giving him to the GDF is as good as setting him loose, plus killing bunches of people while doing it. You know they can't hold him, John. They'll screw things up, trying to put him on trial."

Point taken. Instead of replying directly, their tall, red-haired brother folded both arms across his chest and lowered his head; looking deeply inward at plans upon unfolding plans.

Drifting there in a weirdly altered bathroom, next to a stasis-locked killer, Alan and Kayo waited for John to come up with a strategy. Some way to keep the Mechanic on ice and find their missing father. After a moment or two, the astronaut looked at his siblings again, saying,

"I've got an idea. How do you feel about breaking the law?"