2

The ecstatic boy had made a brief trip to his father's office, but Jeff was far too busy monitoring his returning older sons to pay much attention. A brief nod and grunt were all Alan got from his preoccupied father.

Fine, then! There were other people on the island, specifically...

He spotted TinTin sitting out on an old hammock by the lower pool, staring out to sea. The lovely girl looked quiet and distracted. Obviously, she needed cheering up, by none other than 'the one and only..., get him while he's hot..., Alan Tracy! Line forms on the right, Ladies.'

Loping across the sun-spattered pool deck, Alan threw himself onto the woven hammock beside her, setting the thing to swaying, and nearly pitching her to the ground. He got it steadied again as tropical birds squawked off through the big old trees, then gave her a wide 'Here I am' grin.

TinTin's large, dark eyes were full of something he entirely failed to notice, being too brimfull of his own tidings to relax and pay attention.

"TinTin, guess what!" Alan began, a little breathlessly, "Mom caved! I went to have it out with her about keeping me back from rescues, and she wouldn't budge at first, but then grandma gave her this slick line about John, and she folded like a card house! It was great! I'm in!"

Eager to receive her praise and congratulations, Alan paused.

TinTin had been sitting, keeping her guard up, carefully thinking about nothing much beyond the ocean's pounding turmoil. Some part of her, deep down and shrinking, knew it was only a matter of time before the Hood shook off his feigned coma and came back for her. Already, she couldn't so much as speak to deliver a warning. What was next? What might he require her to do? Very much needing a friend, and halfway comprehending Alan's good news, TinTin managed a crooked little smile.

"That's... wonderful, Alan. You must be so pleased."

His grin broadened further, and his slim shoulders went back. Voice deepening just a touch, he said,

"I knew she'd give in. The ol' Alan Tracy charm never fails! 'Course, I'll probably be busy now, what with saving the world and all, but I'm sure I'll still have time to... you know..., talk and stuff, when I'm not doing something important."

Still rather distracted, TinTin nodded and patted the boy's hand. She had the terrible feeling that by staying here she was putting her dearest friends in danger. Yet, where else was she to go? Mr. Tracy had declared that no one was to leave the island, except on rescue missions, until Thunderbird 5 was back in service, and the General neutralized. Worse... she couldn't reveal what had happened, how International Rescue now had a silent puppet in their midst, awaiting only its master's call to spring to deadly life.

Looking at the girl, Alan saw soft, shadowed eyes, an almost translucent pallor, and some sort of yearning need. Being fourteen, and fairly sloshing with hormones, he misinterpreted her look and gentle pat rather badly. All of a sudden, heart hammering, he leaned forward and tried to kiss her. The hammock rocked backward, though, hurling him against the girl with unexpected force. His forehead struck her nose, nearly breaking it.

Startled, blood beginning to spatter her flowered halter-top, TinTin leapt off the hammock, which then tipped, dumping her would-be suitor flat on his rump.

"Alan!" She half scolded, half laughed, clamping a hand to her streaming nose, "you idiot!"

Poor Alan flushed scarlet to the roots of his golden hair. Surging to his feet, the boy gave her one miserable, humiliated look, then ran away down the shaded path, pursued by imaginary laughter.

"Alan!" TinTin called after him, as well as she could with a throbbing, bloody nose, "Come back! Je m' excuse! I'm sorry!"