Thunderbirds

The Annual Adventures

by Lee Homer

Disclaimer: All rights reserved. This is a collection of adapted text stories from various Thunderbirds annuals from across the years. I wanted to help make these short stories available to fans who don't own any of the annuals or are unaware of the cool stories that they contain. The Annuals are the property of Century 21 Magazines LTD and Grandreams LTD. This collection is for fan fiction purposes only. I hope you enjoy them.

Missile Alert

In the grand drawing room of her stately home, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward was having afternoon tea. Nibbling delicately at a biscuit, she reacted suddenly as a beeping sound came from the circular table before her. She responded to the signal, identifying it as sub-agent Mustapha Farrah from the Middle East. She pressed a small concealed button on the leg of the table.

"Agent 997 calling Lady Penelope," said the hidden radio. "President Barach is to ignore the World Council. He will go ahead with his missile test in three hours."

Penelope gasped in surprise. President Barach was the leader of a small Middle Eastern state who was threatening, against all the World Council treaties, to launch nuclear missiles towards a remote area of the Pacific. Up to now, with the rest of the world protesting, Barach had listened to reason. Now it seemed he was about to ignore the Council's decision.

"Do you have information about the target area?" Penelope asked Agent 997.

"Yes," he replied. "Three Vanta-7 missiles will be launched on course for the South Pacific co-ordinates W38-S16 at 0800 hours local time."

Penelope thanked her sub-agent for the information and then crossed to a portrait of one of her ancestors. Another button was pressed and the painting slid to one side to reveal an illuminated map of the world. "W38-216" she whispered as she pressed some keys on the display board built into the edge of the picture frame. Bright laser lines of light flickered across the map and Lady Penelope leaned closer as she examined the point where the lines crossed.

"It's as I feared. Zone 6. I must call Jeff Tracy at once."

Penelope moved back to the table and turned the handle of the silver teapot that stood on the tray.

"Lady Penelope calling Tracy Island. Can you hear me, Jeff?"

Next second, Jeff Tracy's clear voice filled the room. "Go ahead, Penny."

"Have you heard about President Barach's plans?"

"No, Penny," Answered Jeff. "The last we heard, he had postponed the missile launch. We were waiting for news from your sub-agent."

Suddenly, outside the windows of the drawing-room, there was a blinding blue-white flash. Penelope blinked to clear her vision and realised that the link between the mansion and Tracy Island had been broken. She had to know what caused that flash. Moving to the bell tassel, She tried to summon Parker, her faithful butler and chauffeur. But Parker didn't arrive. Penelope moved swiftly out of the house towards the area from which she thought the flash had come. Parker was shouting at a group of workmen who had been excavating a trench to lay new services to the nearby village of Creighton. The trench crossed her Ladyship's land and the heavy digger truck had severed the main electric power cable.

"It's no good shouting at them, Parker," she told the irate butler. "They will sort things out much quicker without your help. Besides, I want you to get the Rolls Royce. We have an urgent call to make on the mobile radio."

In the meantime, Jeff Tracy realised the communications with Penelope had been broken. He contacted Thunderbird One. Scott Tracy had been to the scene of a dangerous avalanche in the Swiss Alps. International Rescue's assistance had not been required, and he was about to return home. Jeff called through and filled him in on the details about the sudden connection failure with Penelope.

"Thunderbird One, from International Rescue. I want you to call in on Lady Penelope, Scott. You should be there in half an hour."

"FAB," Scott replied.

Jeff then explained the details to John up in Thunderbird Five.

"Penelope was about to give us some vital information on President Barach's plans," Jeff told John. "Have you picked up any news on the monitors?"

"No, father," replied John. "I thought that tyrant had abandoned his plans to test those Vanta-7 missiles."

"That's what we all thought, John," Jeff agreed. "But I have a hunch the call from Penny could spell trouble. I've sent Scott in Thunderbird One to find out what's gone wrong."

Lady Penelope slid gracefully into the hide leather rear seat of FAB One as Parker operated the gull-wing door.

"Thank you, Parker. Let's hope the mobile radio can reach Tracy Island without interference."

Before Penelope could operate the radio, there was the rumble of an explosion, and then, without warning, FAB One was tossed across the driveway of the mansion, with Parker following like a piece of wind-flung paper. The Rolls Royce finished up on its roof, with Lady Penelope inside, now unconscious from striking her head on the door frame. When Scott arrived in Thunderbird One, he glanced at the scene below at the front of the house. The workmen were gathered around the overturned Rolls Royce and an ambulance swiftly alerted by the engineers, was in attendance.

"I better land away from the house," Scott decided. "Don't want to present those guys with any more surprises."

Scott landed amid a corpse of trees and, changing out of his uniform to his civilian clothes, he made his way towards the mansion. Lady Penelope was recovering and Parker, holding his aching head, looked bewildered.

"We'll have to get you to the hospital, your Ladyship," announced the paramedic.

Shaking her head in protest, Penelope was relieved to see Scott pushing his way through the small crown.

"Let him through. He's my personal doctor." She said.

Scott blinked in surprise and then tried to learn what had happened. The engineers and Parker began to argue again. They claimed that another electrical spark from the dig had forced the Rolls Royce off the road, but Parker wasn't having any of it. Scott took charge of the situation and helped her Ladyship back to the house, dismissing the others. Parker followed, still confused.

"I didn't know you were a doctor, Mr Scott," he said. "I keep getting this pain in my right toe. Do you think you could take a look at it?"

Penelope laughed and told him the truth. Once in the drawing-room, Penelope quickly told Scott the reason for her attempted calls

"So you see, Scott," she finished. "The missiles are targeted to land directly on Moratoa Island.

Scott gasped. "Moratoa! That's where International Rescue's auxiliary stores and fuels are based. If those missiles hit the island it will cause a tidal wave that will be felt all around the Pacific!"

Making sure Penelope and Parker were okay, Scott returned to Thunderbird One and took off for the Pacific. He radioed into Tracy Island, informing him of the startling developments. Jeff called Brains and Virgil to the control desk. They exchanged a grim look with each other.

"The missiles are due to be fired in two hours. What do you think, Brains?"

"Well, Mister Tracy," replied the brilliant mind. "The Vanta-7 missile is a normal remote-controlled weapon. It homes in on its target, c-controlled by radio and laser beams linked to a network of orbiting satellites."

"When it gets within the target area," added Virgil, "A robot camera eye system takes over for the final run-in."

Brains nodded grimly. "Once the robot lens has spotted Moratoa Island, there's no turning off course."

Jeff pondered on the information. There was little they could do to stop them. Barach chose the island unaware that it was in use by International Rescue. He knew he couldn't convince the dictator President without exposing their cover. Brains suddenly drew in a deep breath.

"Mr Tracy, the store of silver nitro-globe particles...what is its present strength?"

Jeff looked puzzled. "Two hundred tonnes, I guess, but the store isn't on Moratoa- it's here."

"We use it to cool our atomic fuel supplies," Virgil reminded them.

"Exactly!" announced Brains. "This is what we h-have to do. L-load as much of the SNP as we can spare aboard Thunderbird Two. Then, Virgil, you must scatter the particles over the sea in a specific section that I will plot."

Jeff and Virgil looked at each other in puzzlement as Brains hurried towards his laboratory. The look on his face told them that his plan was going to work. Soon Thunderbird Two was ready to be launched. Virgil took up his position in the control cabin and minutes later, Brains joined him.

"Right, Virgil," Jeff's voice came over the radio. "Thunderbird Two is clear to go."

"We have j-just over an hour, Virgil," Brains said softly. "That's if President Barach hasn't carried out his threat."

The cliff face opened and the mighty Thunderbird Two taxied out of its cavernous hangar, rolling majestically towards the launch ramp. When the ramp had been raised, there was a deafening roar of its powerful engines, and then Thunderbird Two moved slowly into the air. Virgil banked the great aircraft in a tight turn, heading for Moratoa Island. Exactly the spot decided by Brains, the silver nitro-globe particles were released. All they had to do was sit and wait.

Thunderbird One reached the area almost at the same time as the three Vanta-7 missiles. Two miles ahead of him, shimmering on a glass-like sea, Scott saw the silhouetted outline of Moratoa Island. Every detail, every boulder stood out with stark clarity against the disc of the rising sun. And there was something else, too. At twenty thousand feet, three silvers of black were streaking through the sky.

"The Vantas!" Scott exclaimed. "There's nothing we can do. Guess Brains' plan, whatever it was, didn't work. Those missiles are bang on course for the stores. Nothing – no power on earth will stop them now."

Brains and Virgil, flying slowly around the area in Thunderbird Two watched in fascination as the missiles suddenly took up a new course and swung down into a steep dive. The plan was working. Then suddenly, the missiles were speeding low over the surface of the sea. Seconds later, they exploded in a devastating, eardrum-splitting, eyeball-searing flash of destruction. Scott's jaw fell, his lungs expelling a long gasp of air. The island had disappeared. Not a single trace of it remained.

Virgil grimly smiled at Brains as, moments later, Scott's voice filled Thunderbird Two's cabin.

"Brains...was I seeing things? The island was there. I saw it! And then, just as those missiles plunged in, it disappeared!"

Brains nodded, a slow smile of relief spread across his young face.

"True...b-but that's because it was only a mirage...not the real thing."

"A mirage?" Scott gasped. "You mean you created an illusion for those missiles to home in on?"

"Y-yes." Brains replied. "You see, mirages occur when the air is still and you either get cold or warm air in it's the lowest part. The air settles into layers and the light is reflected from the surface of these layers as it p-passes through them. This reflection of light distorts it, and the image if distant objects – in this case, Moratoa Island – is raised in the air, to become a mirage."

"So that's why Thunderbird Two spread the ice-cold silver nitro-globe particles over the area," Scott realised. "Good thinking, boys! Let's return to base. I could do with some breakfast."

Two hours later, Lady Penelope and Parker listened to a newscast. Owing to a change of plan, President Barach had decided not to launch the Vanta 7 missiles to comply with the wishes of the World Council.

"That man is a menace to world peace," Penelope said firmly. "Not only does he break treaties, but he tells an awful lot of lies."

Parker remained standing by the drawing-room entrance. "Eh, those cowboy workmen 'ave finished making a mess of the countryside, Milady," he announced. "What are we going to do about the Rolls Royce. It's in a bit of a mess."

"Yes, Parker," replied her Ladyship. "I'll have a word with Brains before we carry out the repairs. He may have some suggestions about effective modifications to improve FAB One's performance and functions."

Penelope prepared to make a call to Tracy Island. She gave Parker the afternoon off while she made the call to the brilliant genius of the Thunderbird machines. With FAB One out of action for a while, her Ladyship took the opportunity to catch up on her rest and a nice cup of tea.

END