Participation II - Fourteen.

1 = first name

I don't think I was knocked out, but I was certainly dazed when everything quietened down.

I could dimly hear voices - men shouting.

"Over here! I've found 1!"

Bits of wood and plaster were hurriedly brushed away from my face. I blinked through the layer of dust that stuck my eyelashes together and looked into a very worried pair of brown eyes.

"V-Virgil?"

He grinned in relief. "We've got to stop meeting like this." He joked.

I tried to sit up and found my progress impeded by more bits of wood across my torso.

"Hey! Take it easy." Virgil ordered. "Are you injured?" He and John removed some of the larger planks.

"No... No I don't think so." I managed to sit up, with Virgil's assistance, and then sucked in my breath as a wave of pain washed up my left leg. "M-My foot." A large iron I-beam obscured my view of the limb.

"Hang on." Scott and John each grabbed an end of the I-beam and, with a lot of effort, and a couple of mini jacks, managed to lift it clear.

Now that the pressure was off, the pain lessened and I was able to think more clearly. I grabbed at Virgil's arm. "Trixie! Where's Trixie? You've got to find her Virgil."

The anxious look returned to his face. "Where was she, 1?"

"Um... Over there... On the other side of that guy I knocked out." I pointed vaguely in the general direction.

Virgil glanced at his brothers.

"I'll look after 1," John offered, "you go find Trixie."

As Scott and Virgil picked their way through the debris, John gently examined my foot. "You'll live." He said. "I think it's only bruised, but we'll get it x-rayed just to make sure. Do you feel up to walking out? I'll help you."

I was feeling stronger now; all my concerns were for my friend. "Yes, yes!" I said impatiently. "Have they found Trixie?"

Virgil and Scott were feverishly pulling debris away from a cupboard door. They threw back the last obstacle and, pulling with all their might, managed to wrench the door open.

Trixie was inside, still standing, but crying hysterically.

Virgil stepped inside the cupboard and put his arm around her. "Shush Trixie. We're here. You're safe now."

She buried her face into his shoulder and said something which I couldn't catch. He put his other arm around her and held her tightly, protecting her from her fears. He continued to talk to her gently, calming her down.

There was nothing Scott could do there, so wandered about the room finding first my 'victim', and then the Hood. He picked up the camera and took something from his pocket. Holding it against the camera it emitted a blue light.

John must have noticed my puzzled expression. "It electromagnetically wipes all the photos." He explained. "Have you rested long enough? Do you think you could stand now?"

With his assistance I got to my feet. I gingerly put my full weight on my left foot and then fell against John as the pain caused my leg to give way. "It's okay." He said soothingly. "I'll help you."

I glanced over my shoulder. Virgil had managed to coax Trixie out of the cupboard and they were slowly negotiating the debris field. One hand was supporting her; the other held her cane.

"You four head back to Thunderbird Two." Scott said. His voice sounded loud in the funereal silence of the room. "I'll take care of... things... here."

As we left the room and entered the comparatively clear passageway I explained to John what had happened. As I recounted how close we'd come to being murdered I shuddered. John held me tighter. "It's okay." He said. "Scott'll get the police in and they'll take care of him. We'll head back to the island and you'll be well away from him."

At that moment Tracy Island sounded like heaven.

Trixie had perked up a little when she and Virgil had made their way back into Thunderbird Two's flight deck. John had already arranged a foot rest for me and had got an ice pack for my foot. It had been with great relief that I'd ripped the mask from my face and hands. I felt as if I could breathe again.

"How are you Trixie?" I asked as she removed her mask.

"Oh fine, fine." But there wasn't the usual spark in her voice. She idly examined her damaged cane. "I'm afraid it's rather bent. I hope dear Brains doesn't mind making me another one." With difficulty she opened one of the secret compartments. "Oh no!" She took out her prized photo of Ryan. It was crumpled and a large tear ran diagonally through his handsome face. At that moment she appeared to shrivel up and become just another little old woman.