Scott eased off once Thunderbird Two was in sight.

He'd pushed the engine more than was strictly necessary. He could catch up at his normal speed, but this whole mission had put him on edge and he wanted his family in view as fast as possible. Brains' repair held – there wasn't even a flicker of a malfunction.

As he drew level, he pulled back and matched Virgil's pace. Subtlety had never been part of their plan: one Thunderbird wasn't discreet, let alone two. The 'birds were shielded against gunfire – while they were inside, they were safe - but that wasn't what made Scott determined to catch up. He didn't trust his brothers to stay put if they arrived before him, not once they realised the man responsible was right there.

Hamilton had chosen a good location - Scott had to give him that much. He did a quick fly-by while Virgil landed: they were far enough from the city that small planes could come and go without raising suspicion. But they were also close enough that a properly fitted truck could move supplies without risking their cargo.

Thunderbird One was too fast – if anyone heard him, he'd be gone by the time they looked outside. But the few trucks still parked outside what looked like a disused warehouse told Scott what he needed to know: the men were still there. John had pulled read-outs, and Scott knew this worn-down building was fitted with state-of-the-art equipment.

Scott came into land next to his brother. They were a mile or so from the building – far enough to be out of sight, close enough for a hasty retreat if needed. Thunderbird Two had the hoverbikes ready: they'd close the distance in no time.

Powering down, he made sure his 'bird was secured before crossing the distance between the two craft. Virgil was waiting for him, the pod door already opened. Scott entered, only to find the rest of the family were already waiting.

"You've heard from Penny?" Scott asked his father, tone professional, no trace of his previous annoyance.

The man nodded. "We have an hour before they get here."

It didn't give them long if whoever was here fought back. Scott looked at his brothers. Gordon had a gleam in his eye that had been missing for a while; he was glad to finally be doing something. John seemed resigned but prepared, and Alan was pale. Scott glanced at Virgil, just in time to see John slip him a gun that Virgil hid behind his back.

Scott suppressed a grin.

"You know your positions? Do not deviate unless I tell you to." He gave Virgil a pointed look. He was supposed to be out of the way – Scott didn't want him blundering in when the rest of them knew the plan. Virgil narrowed his eyes, but couldn't say anything.

"F.A.B." Alan said, and the others nodded.

Scott took the gun that his father passed him. He made a point of changing the settings to stun, watching his brothers follow suit. Catching his father's eye, he nodded, a wordless confirmation that he had this under control.

"Find your spots, and take cover," he ordered. "Wait for my signal to advance."

"And if you don't give it?" Alan looked worried. Gordon put a hand on his shoulder before their father could move, and Scott shrugged.

"Get back to Two ASAP."

"You mean come and save your ass?" Gordon dropped his hand, adjusting his own gun.

Scott didn't answer, knowing Gordon was right. If he didn't give the signal, he was in trouble. While he didn't want the others coming closer if that was the case, he was painfully aware Gordon would do his own thing.

Scott looked at his father. The man nodded once. Scott gestured and Virgil had his hand on the controls again, the door starting to lower. As his brothers and father pulled the bikes out, Scott looked back, and Virgil winked.

"Good luck."

Scott rolled his eyes. But the others had engines running, and Scott hurried to join them. He wondered if anyone else noticed John had pulled a sixth hoverbike out as Virgil had no chance of moving it on his own without risking his side.

Scott fired up his own bike, leading the way. It didn't take long until they were concealing the bikes around the back, making sure they were accessible but not visible.

Scott slid off, checking his gun, gaze locked on the building. He exchanged looks with his family, then hurried forward, slipping around the side of the building. He was aware of the others heading to their own positions, but didn't focus on it for now. Once his back was pressed to the wall, the main door in sight, he raised his watch.

"John?"

"They're in there," John reported, "I've got heat signals."

"Copy that. Gords, you in position?"

"F.A.B."

"I'm going in the front. Gordon, find a back door. Dad, cover him. John, Al, wait for my signal and follow me in once it's clear."

Three of them had military training – Scott didn't want John or Alan getting close until they knew what they were walking in on. It went against his own instinct to not know what was waiting for them, but they didn't have time.

He took a few steps away, before ramming his shoulder against the door. He wasn't surprised that it was locked. He kicked it, aiming for the lock and letting all the pent-up emotions from the last few weeks fuel his blow. He could have shot it out, but this was more satisfying as it gave way on his third strike.

As the door banged open, Scott caught a glimpse of a darkened corridor. All the lights were off.

It saved his life.

His eyes took a few seconds to adapt, and he suddenly cursed, throwing himself to one side as he registered someone waiting for him. But the sunshine spilling into the corridor blinded his assailant, and Scott had taken cover before the first shots rang out.

He pressed his back against the wall again. He could hear his father calling him, but couldn't afford the distraction. He had no idea how many men there were, and he'd told Gordon to gain entry. He had to get in.

His opponent was an amateur at best, though. He continued shooting, despite not being able to see Scott. The shots revealed his position as the man advanced, and all Scott had to do was wait until he stepped out. Scott grabbed him, slamming him against the wall, forcing the gun away before a well-aimed blow with the butt of his own weapon dropped the man.

He edged forward, cautious as he slipped through the door, making sure he was out of direct sight. But no one else shot at him, confirming Scott's suspicions this guard had been left to cover the door while his friends hid further in.

Scott reached for his flashlight, then realised it would give him away. He gave himself a moment to let his vision adjust before advancing down the corridor. It was unnerving in the dark, especially knowing what this place had been used for.

He stole a few paces in, then paused.

"Front entrance clear," he reported, keeping his voice low.

"F.A.B." His father's response was immediate, but Gordon followed straight away.

"So is the back," he said, "I'm coming in."

"No. Stay there and wait for me to reach you."

"I'm a sitting duck here," Gordon argued, "and I'm not letting you have all the fun."

Gordon disconnected before Scott could argue. If he was honest, he was grateful for the assistance. He still didn't know what was waiting for him, and he couldn't clear the place on his own. The early shots would give away he was in the building.

"John, Al, come through the front. Stay behind me."

As his brothers confirmed, Scott kept moving. Knowing the others were on the move heightened his urgency to get this done.

His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked, and Scott shivered. The temperature dropped as he moved further in and the dim light forced him to squint as he peered ahead of him, braced for any movement. The soft hum of power became audible and Scott gritted his teeth, knowing he was getting closer. He tried to keep his anger in check, but it was hard.

Broken glass suddenly crunched underfoot. Scott crouched, but couldn't see anything. As he hadn't come across anyone else, he decided to risk his flashlight. A broken phial was by the wall, and Scott looked away, stomach churning. He didn't want to consider what the contents had been.

But it told him a lot, and he lifted his watch again.

"They're trying to clear out," he said quietly. "They knew we were coming."

He didn't mean International Rescue. But the lack of contact from Max had obviously raised an alarm, and the men were trying to salvage what they could. Everything here was valuable to these men – they were in a hurry if something had been dropped.

But the spillage gave him something to work with. It left footprints on the floor and he kept his flashlight low, following the trail. When the corridor split a few metres further on, he was glad he didn't have to make a decision.

He hadn't gone much further when he heard footsteps coming his way. Scott snapped off the light, grip tightening on the gun. The corridor curved a little ahead, blocking his view of who was coming. Keeping his back to the wall, Scott kept his breathing even as he waited for the other person to make their move.

They'd stopped, though. They were also using the corner as cover, meaning they had heard him. Scott cursed under his breath. John and Alan could be right behind him – he had to deal with this before they caught up with him.

He dropped low, rolling around the corner, coming up on one knee with his gun aimed as he switched the light back on, angling it up so it would hit a man of average height right in the eyes. His finger tightened…

"Scott!"

The indignant voice was familiar and Scott lowered both the gun and the light, finding himself staring at Gordon's gun.

"Oops."

"Oops?" Gordon growled, keeping his tone low. "I could have shot you!"

Scott shrugged. "I'd have shot you first."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"It's set to stun." Scott got to his feet, glancing behind him, but there was still no sign of the rest of the family. "Any hostiles?"

Gordon shook his head. "There's another corridor a few paces back," he said.

Scott gestured for him to lead the way. There was nothing the way he had come. While he wished none of the others were here, if he had to pick any of them to be by his side, he'd chose Gordon.

They both paused when they reached the new corridor. Scott turned his light off, and both of them readied their weapons again.

"How many do you think there are?" Gordon whispered.

"Enough for the both of us," Scott said. He tried to keep his voice light, but failed. They were so close… Just along this passageway was the man who had given the go-ahead for his brothers to be kidnapped, Gordon drowned and Virgil almost killed. He wanted this over – now.

He took the lead this time, thankful Gordon let him without protest. The corridor wasn't long, and Scott held up a hand when they reached the end. It led into a spacious room, and as Scott peered in, he felt sick. The hum of power was louder here, and large freezers lined the walls. He knew what they were used for and wondered how many people had been murdered for one psychopath to make a profit.

Gordon tapped him on the shoulder. Scott turned, gesturing for his brother to stay quiet. They both listened hard, and Scott heard voices. He peered in and saw a cluster on the far side of the room. He couldn't get a clear view for numbers but, given the size of the team Max had, figured Hamilton hadn't held back when hiring people to do his dirty work.

They couldn't stay hidden in the corridor. Catching Gordon's eye, Scott gave a number of hand signals and Gordon nodded. They slipped into the room.

Gordon went one way while Scott stole the other, both keeping to the shadows, moving silently. They circled as far as they could without risking being seen. Scott took cover behind one of the large chest freezers, grimacing. He hoped it was empty.

Once in position, Scott could get a better read on the situation – and it wasn't good. They were outnumbered two to one. Ten men were clustered together, talking in urgent voices, but they were all armed. Given the type of operation they'd run, Scott had no doubt that they wouldn't hesitate to use their weapons.

One thing working for the Tracys, however, was surprise. They must know someone was in the building from the earlier shots, but they hadn't noticed Scott and Gordon yet. He caught Gordon's eye, who nodded. It was now or never, and Scott sent the signal through the watches, hoping the rest of the family were right behind them.

Gordon reacted immediately.

"Stay where you are!" Gordon stepped out. They all startled, whipping around to face him, reaching for their guns.

"Freeze!" Scott ordered, making them spin in confusion. It brought them a few seconds as the men looked around the room, trying to work out if there was anyone else hidden.

They were recovering though, hands grasping guns, and Scott knew theirs wouldn't be set to stun. He picked his mark and squeezing the trigger. What looked like a blast of air exploded from the gun and Scott almost staggered with the recoil. It was more powerful than he'd expected. It caught his target in the chest, blasting him off his feet and making the man next to him stagger. Gordon took advantage of his distraction and took him down. Both men hit the floor, and neither got up again.

The rest spread out. Scott edged towards the door, wanting to provide cover for when the rest of the family arrived. Plaster and fragments of brick exploded inches from his face as a bullet just missed him. Swearing, Scott took cover, hearing a metallic ping as another bullet struck his hiding place.

"Scott?" John was close, but not close enough.

"Take cover!" Scott ordered. John would be too exposed if he tried entering. Scott thought fast.

Risking a look across the room, he saw Gordon was on the other side of the room. He'd also taken cover, but had five men advancing on him. Gordon was good, but even he couldn't take those odds. Checking his own position, Scott was able to take down one of the men. The other two didn't seem to know whether to circle him or watch the door.

Ducking down, Scott spoke quickly into his watch, filling the rest of the family in about numbers and the layout of the room. But he didn't have time to give them the full picture – he was just going to have to trust them. Gordon needed him.

Scrambling up, he leapt on top of the chest, knocking out the first man he could target.

"Hey!" His loud voice made the men cornering Gordon turn. "Looking for me?"

A distraction was the only thing he could offer his brother. It was enough: Gordon took down the closest man before darting from his hiding place, changing angle and aiming again.

But Scott couldn't watch his brother. His distraction had worked a little too well, and he was forced to move as his opponents opened fire. There was enough cover in the room that he was able to move away from the door, forcing the men to turn their backs on it if they wanted to keep Scott and Gordon in their sights and pinned down.

They were ruthless. All Scott needed was a few seconds to take down another, but they weren't providing him with that relief. He tried to aim, but was forced to duck instead… and suddenly wasn't the target any longer.

The rest of the family had arrived.

His father looked calm as he squeezed off a couple of quick shots. One flew true, the second skimmed a man, making him stumble until John took him down. Alan gave a yell, charging into the middle of the room. It worked – the men didn't seem to realise he was there until Alan threw himself at them.

"Your gun, Alan!" Scott called, "use your gun."

His brother heard him: one of the men was thrown into the air even as Alan swore as the recoil made him stumble backwards. It was enough though – their numbers were evenly matched and Scott knew who had the upper hand.

He stepped away from the wall. His father, John and Gordon were all doing the same thing, their guns trained on those responsible for hurting their family.

"This operation has been closed down." His father's voice was like ice. "Surrender your weapons. Reinforcements will be arriving any moment."

"Don't believe you," one spat. "You're not the cops; you're not even the army."

Gordon shot, but the man dodged, and the blast dissipated harmlessly against the wall.

"You know nothing about us." Scott stepped closer, then froze.

Alan had tried to slip away, towards Gordon, but his movement drew attention. Two men turned on him and even as Scott took down the third, Alan was disarmed, forced to his knees. His eyes were wide with fear as one pressed a gun to his head.

"Doctor Hamilton?"

Scott couldn't believe how calm his father sounded as he stepped forward, motioning for the others to stay back.

"You are surrounded: put down your weapon."

"How'd'you know my name?" It was the man training the gun on Alan.

"We know a lot," Gordon snarled. "Including that Max and his men have been compromised, your base in Thailand destroyed, and the authorities are on their way."

Doctor Hamilton glared at Gordon. "No one knows about that base."

Scott flinched. Hamilton clearly thought he still had a way out of this if he wasn't even denying his involvement.

"I do," Gordon said quietly. "I know it very well."

Hamilton sneered. "You wouldn't be worth enough."

Gordon flinched, but he didn't look away from Hamilton. He was aiming his gun at the man, but his other was behind his back, fingers moving rapidly. Scott realised his brother was signalling him. He narrowed his eyes, then received the message. Rather than draw attention, he sent a vibration through his watch, telling Gordon he understood.

"That's 'cos your hospitality is crap," Gordon said.

Scott edged forward. His gaze was fixed on his youngest brother, ignoring the men, trusting Gordon. His father realised what he was doing.

"Surrender," he demanded again. None of them expected Hamilton to obey, but it kept his attention on the Tracys in front of him.

Scott reached the group before anyone noticed he was there.

"Hey!" The man next to him suddenly realised it wasn't a friend by his side. Scott took him out with a solid blow, but Hamilton turned. Anger and fear flashed across his expression and even as Scott leapt forward, he slammed his gun into Alan's head, stunning him before aiming it at Scott. He didn't have time to bring up his own gun, wouldn't have time to duck, but John shot first. He missed, but it was enough to force Hamilton to dodge back, letting go of Alan.

Scott grabbed his brother, hauling Alan to his side and away from the men as the rest of the family covered him. He was conscious, but blood ran down his face and he clutched at Scott.

"Al?" Scott put his hands on his brother's shoulder, forcing Alan to look at him.

"M'kay," Alan slurred, but Scott shook his head.

"Get him out," he said, trying to pass Alan to John.

John didn't take him. "I've been with you since the beginning," he said, quietly. "I'm not leaving you now."

John's words meant a lot. He nodded, turning to his father. He'd already holstered his gun, ready to receive his son. Scott passed him over, gun back in his hand. Only Gordon's unwavering aim and John pointing his own gun in vaguely the right direction had kept the men where they were – they hadn't figured out who was a good shot and who was lucky.

"I'll come back," his dad promised.

Scott nodded. But he had no intention of dragging this out long enough for his father to get to Two and back again. He watched as he wrapped an arm around Alan's waist, supporting him as he half-carried, half-dragged him out of the room.

Scott side-stepped until he was covering the door, smiling when he saw John had done the same thing.

"Not running after them?"

Scott gave the man who had spoken a scathing look. Then he realised he had a clear shot, and he didn't hesitate.

"Not the running type," he said, as the man dropped.

He looked around. Four men, plus Hamilton, were standing. Scott realised that while the stunners were effective, they weren't long term. The first men they'd taken down were getting back up.

"We need to secure them before they outnumber us again," he muttered to John.

John raised an eyebrow. "Math has never been your strong point, has it? They already do."

"This?" Scott grinned at his brother. "This is nothing."

He caught Gordon's eye and nodded. They both reacted, their shots true, and making those still standing panic as two of their number dropped without warning.

"Go."

He shadowed John, covering him as his brother secured those who had already fallen while Gordon guarded the door. It wasn't long before only one remained and Scott found himself trapped in a stand-off. They exchanged shots, but neither managed to get a clear line of sight. Scott clipped the man, but he stayed standing and grazed Scott's shoulder in response. He needed to move, get a better shot, but while the man was trying to take him down, he was ignoring John, and Scott couldn't risk it.

But as John finally trussed the last of the fallen men, Scott came in low, forcing the man's final shot to go wild, and dropped him with one squeeze of the trigger. As soon as he hit the floor, John kicked the gun out of reach and bound his hands. They'd all grabbed a handful of restraints when they'd left Two, but Scott was grateful John had picked up enough.

Scott looked around, breathless.

"Where's Hamilton?" he asked.

"Where's Gordon?"

They shared a worried look, then both checked the room again. Fear flooded Scott that he would find his brother's crumpled body somewhere, but there was no sign of him.

"Gordon!"

"Listen," John said, touching his arm.

Scott took off running. There was a struggle coming from the corridor they had come down, but Scott didn't know whether to be relieved he couldn't hear weapons. Gordon could hold his own. But this wasn't a level playing field: he'd been through a lot and revealed to Hamilton he'd been a prisoner. He was at a severe emotional disadvantage, and Scott cursed that he'd ever let his brother out of his sight.

He sprinted down the corridor, John on his heels. They didn't have to go far.

Scott rounded a corner in time to see Hamilton straddle Gordon, hands finding his brother's throat. His movements were cold and calculating, and Scott remembered he was a genuine doctor as well as a lunatic. Gordon's cut off gasp gave away Hamilton was already applying pressure at the exact point.

"Let him go!"

He started forward, but stopped. Catching John's arm, he brought him up short as well.

Someone else had reached the struggling pair first, placing a gun against Hamilton's head.

"You tried to take my brother from me once." The voice was quiet, but Scott heard every word. "You're not doing it again."

Virgil had caught up with them.