Disclaimer: Carlton own them. I don't. Thanks must go to my friend Karen for suggesting the ending to this chapter. Please, don't kill me…it is a cliff hanger. Mouse, July 2003.

Impossible Choices 3: A Brother's Revenge

By Mouse

Voices were crowding around him, over him, beside him, everywhere. Finally he had to open his eyes just so he could tell them all to shut up. He hurt badly and he just wanted some peace and quiet. Slowly, his eyes opened a fraction to the sight of what looked like a nurse hovering over him.

And then he remembered what had happened.

His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, only to be gently held down by the smiling nurse.

"Sir, you need to lie back, you've been hurt badly, and you'll just injure yourself further."

"Where am I?" The nurse smiled gently, her blue eyes warm; the smile carrying over to her softly accented voice.

"The Royal Hobart Hospital. You and your companion were brought in from the rescue site." Scott looked at her, worry in his voice. It had all come flooding back to him.

"My …companion? How is he?" Scott had to stop himself in time from saying Gordon was his brother. The nurse's smile faded slightly.

"I'll just get the doctor." She disappeared from his side and moments later a doctor appeared. He was in surgical gear and even though he looked fairly young, he had a competent air about him. He smiled down at Scott.

"Ah, you're awake. Good. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. How's he doing?" The doctor glanced at the nurse and she left them alone. He smiled down at Scott.

"Your brother's quite a fighter, that's for sure. He's also extremely lucky. The bullet has completely missed his spine. It's lodged itself in one of his ribs. We're about to go into theatre and remove it." Scott frowned slightly, wincing as he tried to move his shoulder but couldn't.

"How did you know he's my brother?" The doctor, whose nametag read Merry, just grinned slightly.

"The paramedic that questioned your other brother insisted on getting next of kin permission to do what ever we needed to, to save your lives. He said that he was your brother, gave his permission and told the paramedic to keep it quiet. The paramedic told me in confidence, so don't worry, we won't be telling anyone. I also understand from the paramedic that your brother has arranged for your father to be flown in." Scott sighed, slightly relieved. He wouldn't have liked to be in John's shoes to make that call.

"Good, that's okay then. Thanks Doctor, now, how's my brother?" Dr Merry looked at his chart.

"Well, apart from the massive blood loss and trauma of such an injury, he's actually holding up pretty well. The bullet lodged in his ribs on the left side, we'll be going in to remove it shortly, although it sounds bad, it isn't really. We're looking at about a 97% chance of success, so I wouldn't worry, he'll be fine. The same can be said of you. Your family is defiantly made of strong stuff. I suppose you would have to be in your line of work. The bullet missed the bone and most major muscles in your shoulder. We'll have to operate on yourself as well to repair some ligament and muscle damage, but I want to get some blood into you, and operate on your brother first anyways."

"Okay, thanks again. Now, can I see my other brother, I'm assuming he came in with us." The doctor shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid the two of you arrived by yourselves. Now, as extra security, we have police stationed all around this floor and the theatre suite. The floor is sealed and the only people allowed in are medical staff that are known by sight and have my okay to enter. I've left orders for your father to be let through." Scott frowned; John hadn't come with them, that wasn't like him at all. He glanced down and saw his watch was still on his wrist. He looked back up at the Doctor and managed a smile.

"Thank you Doctor."

"Right. Now, I have to take your brother to operate on. It should take about four or five hours to remove the bullet safely. You'll need to get some rest okay?"

"Okay." The doctor left him alone and slowly; painfully Scott raised his wrist up and managed to hit the button.

"Scott Tracy to Thunderbird One," The picture appeared and Scott immediately saw John's face. John was looking haggard and tired.

"Scott! You're awake! Thank heavens. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a ten ton truck. Why aren't you here?"

"Because I can't leave Thunderbird One right now." Scott suddenly noticed John's surroundings, not really noticing the frustrated and angry tone in his brother's voice.

"John, where are you?" John gave him a frustrated sigh. Behind him, the Tasmanian wilderness sped by.

"How many times do I have to tell you guys, between you, Alan and Virgil I'm not going to get anything done? I'm retrieving the rescue gear, then moving Thunderbird One to the airport, and then coming to the hospital. Now, how's Gordon?"

"The doctor is pretty pleased with him; they are taking him to surgery now. The bullet missed his spine and everything; it's lodged in a rib. His chances are pretty good." John smiled, relief washing over his face. He looked suddenly less tired, as if a heap of worry had been lifted from his shoulders.

"That's great. Look Scott, I'll take care of things here, you just rest and concentrate on getting better. Thunderbird one out." The channel closed and Scott frowned. Something was defiantly up with John. He was acting extremely decisive and abrupt. Not like him at all. John was normally one that you could rely on to follow your instructions to the letter; it was extremely rarely that he acted on his own accord like this. But Scott knew that when John did get like this, nothing would stop him. Scott sighed; he knew that his middle brother wouldn't be reacting well to seeing Gordon and he shot like that. But still, this is John. He wouldn't do anything stupid, he hoped. Resigning himself to the fact he couldn't do anything about it anyway for the moment, plus the fact the pain medication was finally kicking in, Scott's eyes closed and he was soon asleep.

John sped along quietly, smiling slightly. Gordon was going to be fine, Scott was trying to boss him around from his hospital bed, and almost everything was normal. His smile faded. Yet here he was, speeding along an unfamiliar bush setting, in almost dark, going to kill the man that almost killed his brothers.

Yep, everything was normal all right.

John pulled to a stop at the actual rescue site. He closed down the hover bikes motor and got off it. Taking out a torch, he shone it along the small path to where the breeches buoy had been set up. Sitting the torch down, he began the short but laborious task of dismantling it and packing it all up. He was almost finished when his watched beeped. Sighing, he pressed the button.

"Yes." Alan's face stared back at him, looking frightened.

"John! The person, he's moving again. Coming towards your position. He's crossed the river as far as I can tell and will be near you in about ten minutes! Get out of there!" John refrained from smiling and just nodded. It was as he had hoped would happen.

"Understood Alan. I'm just about done; I'll be long gone before he gets here."

"No! Get out of there now John! I can't have anything happen to you as well!" John winced; Alan was frantic and starting to panic. That wasn't good. He smiled gently at his brother, his words soft and encouraging.

"Look Alan, I'm fine. I'm armed, he's still ten minutes away and I'll be gone in two. Nothings going to happen to me okay? Now, check how Virgil's doing getting Dad to Scott. Scott called me and said he's okay, and that they are operating on Gordon but they have high hopes. Now go, call Virgil and make sure they are all right."

"If you're sure?"

"Alan, I'm fine. Look, the longer you take talking to me, the closer he'll be getting. I'll be fine, trust me."

"Okay John. I'll call you in fifteen shall I?" John shook his head.

"No, wait at least thirty minutes Alan. It'll take me at least that long to get back to Thunderbird One in this darkness."

"Okay. Thunderbird Five out." The channel closed and John sighed. One little brother off his back. John smiled grimly, any second now he expected his other older brother to get on his back. That's the problem with being the middle child; they have a tendency to come at you from both directions he thought. John stared hard down at his watch and then made a decision. He turned it off and took it off, placing it in the compartment on the hover bike. He didn't need it going off when he didn't want it to. John finished packing up the equipment, putting it on the back of the hover bike. He took out the rifle and then side arm, making sure the smaller gun was tucked securely in his waistband. He then reached down and put a survival knife under his pants leg and in the cuff of the boot. He didn't have the military training of Scott and Gordon; or the advantage of constantly sparring with all of his other brothers. The rare times he was on the ground he preferred to keep his rescue and piloting skills fresh, so unfortunately, his fighting skills weren't as good as his other brothers. But, he could hold his own against them, and that was enough sometimes. Pushing the hover bike over to some bushes and hiding it, John grabbed the torch and quickly moved over to the position he had marked out a few minutes ago. He scrambled up the rocks, moving behind the one he wanted, and shut off the torch. He then fixed the night vision goggles to his eyes and waited. The wind had finally died down to a light breeze and the night was still. The animals were beginning to come out to feed and do what ever they did of a nighttime. If he wasn't here for such a deadly reason, John might actually have enjoyed the peace and quiet of the Tasmanian wilderness.

The Hood moved swiftly, yet silently, through the bush. It was similar to what he was used to in Malaysia, but still different enough that he was on his guard. The blonde operative had come back to this site – foolish man – and The Hood was determined to take full advantage of that mistake.

He crept along carefully, moving as silently he could, his finger already on the trigger of his gun. He wasn't wearing night vision goggles, as the extraordinary mental powers he possessed allowed him to see better than average in the dark. He would find that operative, disable him, then get the information he wanted, then kill him.

Once and for all, he'd have International Rescue's secrets.

Virgil's watched beeped and he lifted it up, his eyes busily scanning the horizon.

"Go ahead." Alan's face appeared looking more worried than ever.

"Virgil; I just heard from John. Scott called him, Gordon's going into surgery now but they think he'll be fine. Scott was doing okay as well." Virgil smiled in relief, he could see out of the corner of his eye his father and grandmother doing the same.

"That's great news Alan. Does John know when they'll be out?" Alan frowned.

"No. He isn't with them."

"What? What's he doing? Hasn't he moved Thunderbird One yet?" Virgil winced at how harsh his father's voice sounded right then.

"I don't know what he's thinking father, he said he was gathering up the rescue gear, and then moving Thunderbird One. I guess in all the drama they left it behind." Jeff frowned and then sighed.

"All right Alan, that's understandable then." Jeff leaned back and out of Alan's view. Virgil suppressed a smile at Alan's expression of relief. But Alan was still looking worried underneath it all.

"Alan, what's John's position now? Has he started back towards Thunderbird One?" Alan's head bent down as he studied his instruments.

"That's strange. I'm showing John's hover bike as stationary. I'm trying to call him now, see what's going on." Silence stretched out uncomfortably for a few moments and then Alan's head jerked up. "I can't raise him. The signal's coming back that he's turned his com off. Why would he do that?" Virgil had a sudden horrible premonition why. "I called him to tell him that the figure we think is The Hood was moving close to his position and to get out of there, he said he would, and to call him back in 30 minutes." Virgil suddenly knew then what John must be planning and knew that somehow, he had to make sure his father and Alan didn't figure it out.

"He's probably switched it off to avoid being detected by him. I wouldn't worry too much Alan. When we get to the hospital, I'll head up to the rescue site and meet him there okay?" Alan nodded.

"All right then Virgil. I'll keep an eye out until then. Thunderbird Five out." Virgil lowered his watch and frowned, just what was John thinking. He couldn't possible take on The Hood alone could he?

The Hood was directly in front of him now, about fifteen metres away from his position high up in the rocks. He carefully took off his night vision goggles and raised the rifle to his eyes, adjusting the night site. He took aim upon The Hood's back and his finger began to gently squeeze the trigger…

But then he stopped.

He couldn't do it. His word months ago to Scott came back to haunt him. He had said to Scott that they weren't like The Hood. They couldn't contimplaint murder. Yet, here he was, with the man that was causing so many problems for his family in his sights, and he couldn't pull the trigger and end all their problems. John sighed, lowering the gun. He'd have to thick of some other way to dispose of The Hood.

The Hood looked around. He knew the International Rescue Operative was around here somewhere, yet was hiding. Maybe some motivation would bring him out. Smirking, he began talking.

"I know you're there International Rescue. You think that you can take me?" John frowned, his eyes hard. He knew The Hood was baiting him. So he just sat their and waited, thinking furiously fast, trying to come up with an alternate plan. "I have killed of your fellow operatives today, with this," The Hood patted his rifle and smirked. "And I will have no compunction about killing you either."

John hefted his rifle, suddenly releasing what he was going to do. He took careful aim and squeezed the trigger once. The rifle flew out of The Hood's hands and landed several feet away, shattered. John smirked himself. Now, the tables were turning. The Hood looked around, trying to spot where the shot had come from.

"Very clever International Rescue. Very clever indeed. But that didn't stop me from killing the other two." John felt that the time for hiding was past and taking a deep breath to brace himself for what he knew was going to be the toughest time in his short live, stepped out of his hiding place.

Virgil was amazed at how pale Scott looked, but he looked a whole lot better than Gordon. Gordon was still in surgery but all the reports were good that they were getting. He looked over at his father and nodded as if to himself, he had to get to John and get their fast.

"Father, I'm going to help John with clean-up."

"All right son." It was a measure of how distracted Jeff was that he didn't question Virgil further, which he was eternally grateful for. He knew that John should have been at the hospital by now. Something was wrong. Virgil quickly arranged to be taken to the rescue site, and sat the ride in silence.

He just hoped he was in time to stop John making a terrible mistake.

The Hood spun around as a figure moved towards him slowly, the rifle cradled in his arms. He smirked at the International Rescue operative. He had been right, he was here. He held up his hands.

"Are you going to kill me?" The blonde man, whose eyes were as hard as diamonds, just shook his head and spoke softly.

"No. I'm not like you."

"Well what then? I've killed two of your fellows and your just going to let me walk away, I don't think so." The blonde smirked slightly as he unloaded the rifle and placed it against the nearby boulder.

"It really tears me up to tell you this, but they're both fine. Alive and very healthy in fact. You don't think that we'd seriously let our people run around without wearing some sort of protection do you?" The Hood frowned.

"But I saw blood, lots of blood." The blonde man smirked again as he took a few steps towards where he was standing.

"Security feature, blood packs in the armoured vests. Wouldn't want you getting too cocky now would we."

John was furiously hoping that his baiting would work, and that this massive bluff he had going would do the trick. He hoped to goad The Hood into attacking him, loosing his calm and balance. And then John might have a chance. The Hood just stared at him, seeing the calmness and truth that John was projecting. Then he knew, he had failed again and again against International Rescue. The frustration that he normally kept under control welled up in anger and a feeling of defeat. But he wasn't going to go down lightly, not at all. His earlier plan forgotten, he growled and launched himself at the blonde, determined to wring his scrawny neck.

John was ready for this and easily sidestepped, throwing a punch that connected with The Hood's ribs. The Hood stumbled and John quickly followed up with a kick to the stomach. The Hood grunted and scrambled away, then began circling John. John knew that time was crucial; he was a good fighter but no where near as good as his older two brothers. The Hood charged again and this time knocked John down to the ground.

The two men rolled around in the dark and the dirt. Punching, clawing, kicking; what ever it took to injure the other. Suddenly, The Hood had John's survival knife that he had earlier hidden in his shoe. Now it became a struggle for the knife, The Hood having aimed it at John's chest and John holding his arms up, hands encircling The Hoods, trying to push the knife away.

The knife gleamed in the moonlight as the sounds of the two men fighting carried over the now still waters. The Hood threw his body to the right, hoping to get the upper hand, but John managed to retain his grip on the knife, keeping it away from his chest, just barely. The struggle went on, both of them tiring.

And then, as they rolled over the top of one another and fell down an embankment, the knife slid easily into someone's chest, ending their life.

Tbc….