As the early morning sun cast its radiant glow across the lush lawns of one of England's prestigious stately homes, the beautiful British blonde, Lady Penelope, missed it. She had just been informed by her boss and dear friend, Jeff Tracy, that she was needed on a mission for International Rescue, but this time to help save members of International Rescue itself.
"Parker, get the Rolls out. Destination, Northern England. We have a mission to accomplish." The young woman's soft, cultured tones, informed her butler of their mission.
"Yes milady." The grey-suited butler bowed and exited the room.
Darkness surrounded the young, handsome pilot as his blue eyes opened and he realized his location. Murmuring slowly as his large, strong hands traced the floor around him, the Tracy son lifted his head and attempted to sit up, before a wave of dizziness overcame him.
"W-Where a-am I?" The words whispered around the black, sinister ship.
"Oh, God." The eyes of the pilot widened with dismay as he gazed around the command station of the most advanced spacecraft ever made. As fragments of memory swiftly returned, the shock in the pilot's eyes abruptly turned to panic.
"ALAN, where are you?" The dark-haired pilot of both Thunderbirds 1 and 3 tried to stand, even though his head hadn't stopped spinning. The eldest Tracy son, using the damaged control panel and his own desperation, pulled himself over to the other side of the small round room. Scott shifted the pilots' chairs from their upturned position near the lift in a desperate search for his brother.
"Alan, can you hear me?" Scott, himself injured and coughing from the smoking panels of computers, moved other pieces of debris before uncovering the unconscious youngest Tracy.
"ALAN, ALAN!" Scott's cobalt eyes looked at the large crack on his little brother's head, and with a shaking hand, Scott pushed his fingers against his baby brother's throat.
"If you don't talk, I'm going to kill you. It's as simple as that!" the Hood's associate pushed the small, graying man against the back wall of a large scientific lab in an isolated area of Northern England.
"I won't help you anymore, I don't want to get involved," the aging scientist said in an edgy voice.
"You're already involved, you created and sold us the weapon." The associate of the Hood had dark eyes that made the scientist tremble.
"I never knew what you and your master were planning. I won't get involved in killing International Rescue members or anyone else!" The proficient scientist was petrified, as his words resulted in a gun being placed near his head.
"What did you say?" Knowing he had to get information needed about the weapon, or he himself would come under the Hood's evil methods, the man would not accept 'no' for an answer.
The young looking, darkly clothed man raised his right arm and took aim at the maturing professor.
"ALL RIGHT, STOP, I'll help you!" The man trembled, and, going against his conscience, spoke out.
"Now you're being clever. We are not people who take 'no' for an answer, remember that." The scientist stared deeply into the dark eyes of the wicked man before him, as the powerful grip was released from on his arm.
"What you want isn't possible." The older man walked slowly toward his banks of technical equipment, capable of controlling the satellite.
"Look, last time we fired the beam at the target, and then sent a very powerful, high energy pulse down it, we caused an explosion on the spacecraft. However, there was not enough power to send another high energy pulse to destroy the rest of the craft."
The scientist was silently relieved; he had been forced by the Hood to design his weapon to be fixed to a satellite in orbit. However the scientist's relief soon ended as he saw a grin cross his supervisor's face.
"That's okay, we have another idea how to destroy the craft. You have six hours to modify the weapon so it's ready to fire again." The young man explained the second part of the plan, as he placed his gun in his pocket and turned to watch the scientist work.
"I told you there's not enough power in the weapon to destroy the ship." The once honourable professor continued his point.
"That's okay, we are not going to destroy the craft. She'll end up destroying herself and hopefully a few others too. All you need to do is send a series of precisely guided, low energy pulses at the craft." The man clarified as he reached for his radio to explain to the Hood that part two was underway.
Jeff had ordered his two sons, who were safely on Earth, to go to bed. They objected, of course. However, Jeff did prevail and got both Gordon and Virgil to rest. Sleep was a different matter.
"How are you doing?" Jeff entered Brains' laboratory to see a live feed coming from TB5.
"Slow, M-Mr T-Tracy, s-slow." Brains spoke words of truth, but they were edged with concern.
"Thunderbird 5 has 40% power to her main systems, but I am having major problems getting the main communication system online. Hopefully I will be able to get it up soon." John's voice showed strain and tiredness, but the determination to help his brothers forced him to continue.
"We have this problem, too. We cannot move Thunderbird 5 at all yet. Her boosters will take a while to repair." Tin Tin revealed their worry.
So there is no way to move her now, in case another signal is fired at Thunderbird 5?" Jeff looked worried.
"N-No, M-Mr.. Tracy, there i-isn't, but it's our top priority, along with the scanners and weapons." The blue-spectacled man confirmed.
"John." Jeff firmly turned to look directly at his son, aware of causing an imminent argument.
"Yes, Dad?"
"Is the escape pod working?" Jeff could see the instantaneous objection coming from his calmest son.
"What? Dad, I'm not just going to abandon them!" John snapped at the last thing he needed to hear, the order to abandon his brothers.
"John, it's my decision what you are to do." Jeff snapped straight into commander mode.
"Now, is the escape pod working?" There was a strict edge to the question, but under that was deep apprehension for his son.
"Yes, it's working." Jeff had never heard John so blunt and cold in his words to him before.
The red-haired Tracy ran swiftly back up the steps from Brains' lab, heading back to his top floor bedroom. He had been searching for his family to find out the latest news on TB3, when he had heard John's and his father's conversation. Gordon was very close to his older blond brother; they would spend hours chatting together while John was in space, and seeing him like that hurt.
"Wow, slow down!" The tanned, dark features of Virgil appeared in front of Gordon.
"Sorry, Virg." Gordon quietly stated, as his chin fell to his chest.
"It's okay, but you're not." Virgil put his arm around his younger brother and encouraged him to his bedroom.
Gordon walked out on to Virgil's balcony, as the gentle warm winds brought relief to the humid atmosphere on the Island. Virgil stood at his glass doors watching the dark shadow of his brother looking up to the sky, waiting for him to explain his feelings.
"Virg." Gordon turned to face this older brother, both in that moment felt the same: helpless.
"I know, Gordo, I want to know what's happening up there as well." The most creative Tracy pulled his younger brother into a long hug.
"Do you think they're okay?" Virgil stared down into the hazel eyes of his brother, and he saw the same dread as he had years before when he was told were their mother would never return.
"Sure they are, Gordo, sure they are." Virgil tried to comfort his younger brother, but all he wanted was to be comforted by his own older brother.
"Don't worry, Gordo. Scott and Alan will be either looking after each other, or driving each other mad." Both brothers looked at each other and smiled.
"We're going to get all three of them home safe." Both brothers looked towards the balcony doors, where the deep, concerned voice came from.
"Dad." Gordon was surprised to see his father watching them.
"Come here, boys." Jeff opened his arms to hold his sons. He might be their commander, but he was also still their father, and they needed him.
"Do you promise?" Virgil and Gordon both turned and looked at their father.
"Yes. Were going to get them home, I swear." Jeff looked up at the diamond-like gems that were scattered over the deep velvet eternity of space; on a night like this they could take anyone's breath away. However, to all on the Tracy Island right now they only gave a great desire to know the condition of their family members.
"Let's go see how everything is going." Jeff smiled down on his two sons.
"Master, the second part of the plan is in operation. International Rescue have six hours to live, then we are going to destroy them," he informed his master.
"Good. I warn you, don't fail me," the Hood threatened.
"No, Master.." The young servant ended the conversion and turned to the scientist.
"Six hours only."
"Right. I want to know where we are." Jeff Tracy spoke to every member of IR involved in the present situation.
"Well, Dad, I have got the communication system mostly online, and the scanners are just coming online." John explained from space.
"M-Mr. T-Tracy, I-if my t-theory is c-correct the o-only w-way the w-weapon c-could be f-fired is f-from s-space."
"Well, what about a satellite?" Virgil asked.
"It would need modifying, and would have to be a highly technical satellite, but I think that's where the weapon was fired from." Tin Tin confirmed Virgil's point.
"I-I agree, M-Mr. T-Tracy. A s-satellite is the o-only way i-it c-could h-have b-been fired i-into s-space."
"Right. Penny, go pay the weapons designer a visit." Jeff turned to the live feed from FAB 1.
"Already on it, Jeff. Don't worry. We'll deal with him." The British blonde answered.
"John, start scanning the satellites and send the data down here, Virgil and Gordon will search for it."
"We are still working on Thunderbird 5, mostly trying to get her thrusters online so she can move. That would mean that we could move near TB3 and launch the grabs and tow her." Tin Tin explained.
"Great. How long, Brains, till we can do it?"
"Eight hours, Mr Tracy."
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