Scott had worked himself into a heavy sweat. After a restless night he'd taken himself on his usual early morning run only for it to turn into a sprint as his mind didn't find the relief it usually did.

He'd retuned to the villa and gone straight to the gym, pausing only to tape up his hands before he tried to take his frustrations out on the punching bag in front of him. The bag shuddered under the onslaught but Scott barely saw it.

Why had he let Virgil go? Why was he keeping it from dad? Why was dad still clamming up? Was he right? Was he wrong? Were his brothers right?

Scott didn't have enough information. The staccato thunk as his fists met the bag became uneven.

He was meant to be the Field Commander of International Rescue but here he was sitting pretty on their island whilst his injured brother took one of the biggest risks International Rescue had ever seen. How on Earth had they convinced him to go along with it? His father was going to blow a gasket when he found out. He would find out, obviously and Scott would have to handle it.

He had tried to confess to his father the night before, but he'd been met with a stone wall. His father had refused to see him citing an urgent business meeting. Suddenly Scott was a teenager again and the conditioned response had come back instantaneously.

If dad isn't interested then I'll just sort it myself and not tell him.

If dad wasn't going to talk to him then he should stand by his decision, right? After all, Virgil was fine. He'd been his usual grouchy uncaffinated self when he'd called in the other morning. He'd even pulled off the impossible and managed to get a blood sample of sorts. Lady Penelope had confirmed that she would get it under a microscope asap and give him the results. He'd ordered Virgil out of there and Virgil had agreed. He was fine.

So why was Scott so worried?

Because his middle brother was being targeted. That's why.

His swing became harder.

One of the worst days of Scott's life had been the day Thunderbird Two had been fired upon by the USS Sentinel. All he'd been able to do was talk to his brother and try and keep him conscious enough to land. He'd had to listen as Virgil choked on the smoke and fumbled his way through the landing procedure, saying the steps out loud in case he missed something. He'd pulled Virgil's broken body from the smoking wreck of his 'bird and stayed with him till he woke unable to do anything to help him.

He'd sent Virgil into danger since then. Countless times in fact, on missions. Virgil handled all their heavy equipment and was the demolitions expert, danger was expected with a role like that – not that any of their roles were much safer.

But this felt so much worse.

Biomechanoid.

The word had chased him round the island and now sat on the punchbag daring him to come stop it. How do you keep your family safe from something like that?

Scott took a final swing at the bag before collapsing against it, breath heaving. He finally registered just how hot he was, how much he needed a drink (and a shower) and the dull throb in his hands.

It took a while to calm down and he stalked from the gym to his en-suite grateful that he didn't run into anyone on the way.

He stayed in the shower only long enough to get clean. He had a plan now. His father was going to talk to him and so help him Scott wasn't going to budge until he did.

As expected, the door to his father's study was closed. Usually, Scott would knock and wait politely but not today. Today he threw the door open and marched inside.

Jeff looked up from his screen, startled by the noise.

"Scott? What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting an update from my father. That's what I'm doing" he replied trying keep a lid on his anger.

"I have nothing new to tell you." Jeff turned back to his screen, a clear dismissal.

The lid ruptured.

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't believe you! You've shut yourself away in here for days! DAYS dad! What the hell are we supposed to think?"

"What your language!" Jeff barked back rising so he could look his son in the eye.

"My language is hardly the biggest issue here."

"No. The issue here is that you won't leave well enough alone. You have your orders, Scott, I expect you to follow them. I will update you as and when I have something you need to know."

"That isn't good enough!" Scott bellowed back. "We aren't your own private military; we are your family! Do you even know what you've put your sons through these past few days?"

Jeff took a breath but Scott didn't give him a chance to get a word in.

"Gordon and Alan are picking holes in each other because Alan believes you and Gordon doesn't. Alan is terrified, by the way and where have you been to help him through that? John thinks you've abandoned him and he's right!"

Once again Jeff tried to speak but Scott wasn't about to be derailed now.

"When was the last time you spoke to him, other than the daily update? Have you even bothered to ask how he is? No, don't answer that dad" he laced the word with sarcasm. "I know you haven't because I'm the one up with him every night trying to convince him that he isn't a permanent prisoner on Five and as for Virgil…" here Scott petered off, suddenly unwilling to share exactly where Virgil was.

"As for Virgil what?" Jeff asked. Scott was still so angry he missed the way the heat had left his father.

"You sent him away and he thinks you did it because he was getting in your way" Scott's voice turned to ice. "He thinks he doesn't make a valuable enough contribution because he never served and he thinks that because you let him."

"And you? Son?" Jeff's voice was quiet now, Scott's words finally sinking in. "What do you think?"

Scott paused and realised he had both fists on his father's desk. He didn't remember leaning forwards. Deliberately he straightened up.

"I think you're behaving like you did just after mom died. You promised you wouldn't. You said there'd be no more secrets but it didn't even last a day, did it?" Scott didn't try and stop the bitterness from creeping into his tone. He was suddenly so very drained. "So, what is it dad? What's the reason this time? Is Alan too young? Virgil too sensitive? Gordon too brash? Do you think you're protecting us from some big evil?"

"I am protecting you son." Jeff rounded the desk and reached out but Scott ducked out of the way.

"From what?" Scott asked. "You send us out into dangerous situations every day. Literally. Some of the things we do… If all you wanted was to keep us safe you never would have started this."

Scott dropped into one of the chairs facing the desk.

"So, I don't believe you. I don't know what you're trying to do but it isn't protecting us. It's driving a wedge through us." He looked up, right into his father's eyes. "So, I'm not moving, not until you've told me everything and from there we, together, as a family, are going to work out how to take things forwards."

"Scott" Jeff started, his voice betraying the emotion underneath.

"Start talking."

Jeff sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers against his lips. His eldest son sat unmoving; gaze unwavering as he waited for the answers he came for. The balance of power was shifting slightly, Jeff could feel it, and he wasn't ready for it. He supposed it happened in all families, as children grew up and declared that they knew best and were going to do things their own way. But this was different. This wasn't the realisation that, no matter what he did, mainstream schooling just wasn't going to work for Gordon so he, Jeff would have to adjust. This was life and death.

But then, Scott was right. His boys risked their lives each time they set foot in a Thunderbird.

His desk comm chimed and suddenly it seemed fortuitous that it had. That Scott had chosen this moment to barge in.

"I'm about to take part in a teleconference with the Head of the GDF" he said holding up a hand to try and stall the outburst as Scott no doubt thought he was being fobbed off again. "I'm being read in on their intel for the biomechanoid factory you discovered in Johannesburg. In exchange, Tracy Industries will be producing some upgrades to their heli-jets. You are not privy to this conversation. But…" Jeff tailed off and the comm chimed again. He had to make a choice now. Who was he kidding, he'd made his choice.

"You told the GDF that we're International Rescue?" Scott was gobsmacked. Secrecy had been his father's touchstone since they had started.

"I didn't have a choice son. When it comes to biomechaniods International Law refuses us the right to secrecy. Only Admiral Francis himself knows. This is what I have been negotiating for the past few weeks. I have been trying to get as much information I can from the GDF without giving away too much about ourselves. Right now, Admiral Francis is aware that I run the organisation and that is all. However, he didn't become to commander of the GDF by being slow. I'm sure he'll work out that you and your brothers are the operatives. But we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it."

Scott nodded, still lost for words. This could mean huge changes for both International Rescue and for each of them personally. They had all grown up in the shadow of astronaut Jeff Tracy and each had to deal with the attention that being a child of a rich public figure bought. But, barring Gordon's Olympic success, their own achievements had happened outside of the public eye. If they were outed as International Rescue that would change overnight. That could have serious impact on their missions.

"You will sit there are say nothing." Jeff's voice snapped him back to the moment. "Admiral Francis cannot know you are there and I cannot protect you if he finds out. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Sir." The response was immediate and Jeff nodded in acknowledgement.

He opened the line.

"Admiral" he greeted the balding man. "How are you?"

"Very well thank you Mr Tracy. Let's cut to it, shall we?" He looked off screen at something on his desk. "I have looked over the information your operative, Thunderbird Two?" His eyes glanced back to Jeff who nodded. "Gathered for us. Is there anything you can tell me that isn't in this file?"

"I don't believe so, Admiral."

"And it is your intention to try and find the caged people pictured here in?"

Scott's eyes widened but Jeff paid him no attention.

"International Rescue does not abandon people in need Admiral."

"A noble sentiment" the Admiral agreed. "But wasted here. This facility is one we neutralised a few years ago."

Scott's blood ran cold. Neutralised? He couldn't mean…

"I'm sorry, Admiral, I don't quite follow?"

"As you correctly surmised in your report, this facility was not, in fact in South Africa but rather the outskirts of London. We believe it to have been a kind of proving ground for the Transition Rebellion."

"Transition Rebellion?" Jeff said. "I've never heard of them." On the other side of the desk Scott was shaking his head, he hadn't heard of them either.

"For good reason" Admiral Francis said. "The Transition Rebellion wanted to transition us, that is the human race, forwards to ultimate peace. One rule by one government. No hold outs such as we have now. To do that they needed a force of arms and to get it they found a scientist who had worked on the original biomechanoid programme. We managed to place an operative inside their facility who determined the Rebellion was keeping two categories of people. Those who they converted and those they considered fodder."

"Fodder?"

"Training aids for the biomechanoids. Innocent people abducted purely to give the biomechanoids a realistic target to train against. Unfortunately, our operative was discovered and killed before we could determine how many people had been converted so the decision was taken to neutralise the threat."

Scott was in shock. The DGF were meant to protect people. Yet, they hadn't taken the time to find out who had been converted and who was there purely because they'd been abducted?

The admiral finally looked up from his report.

"I'm sorry, Mr Tracy. Those people are long dead. I understand that, for a civilian such as yourself, our actions might seem extreme but when it comes to biomechanoid technology we cannot afford the luxury of mercy. You have your answers Mr Tracy and I'm aware that your company will be paying dearly for them. I would also like to remind you have you have signed a confidentiality agreement on the matter. Any breach of this and you will find yourself facing jail without the possibility of parole. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." Scott couldn't read Jeff's tone.

"International Rescue will cease to look for these individuals effective immediately."

"Yes, Sir." Jeff's response mirrored that of his son's.

"In which case, good day Mr Tracy. Do try to keep yourself out of GDF matters in the future."

"Yes, Sir" Jeff replied but the Admiral had already signed off.

Neither man said anything as the ramifications of what they had learned sank in.

"They killed them all" Scott finally voiced in disbelief.

"They think they killed them all" Jeff said and Scott's gaze snapped his to father. "That girl, Oracle, she was definitely there and she is very much still alive now."

Scott nodded mutely.

"So, the DGF have at least one potential biomechanoid on the loose that they don't know about."

Scott took a steadying breath and asked the one question he suddenly really didn't want an answer for.

"Why didn't you tell them?"

"Because of John and Virgil" Jeff said softly. "There is a chance that John's tampering won't be discovered. It's not an ideal solution but it is the best we're likely to get. But if Oracle is a biomechanoid then we are duty bound to turn her in."

"But that will damn John as well."

"It will" Jeff nodded sadly. "But if she isn't, then it's likely she was fodder" he said the word distastefully. "It's also likely that she really is trying to help us and at the moment I haven't been able to verify any kind of threat to Virgil other than the information she brings us."

Jeff pinned Scott to his chair with his gaze.

"We need to know son. We need to know for sure before we go to the DGF. Two of your brothers are depending on it."