"Here's your robe, Dad."
"Hmm? Oh, thank you, John." Jeff Tracy glanced absently at his son and didn't accept the dressing gown.
John continued to hold it out to him before placing it over the back of a chair. "What's happened?"
"They're both up at the bluff. For a while there I thought Virgil was going to run off the edge."
"He what! What are they doing now?"
"I don't know. I've got their heart rhythms on screen and they're racing about like crazy. Scott's is easing off a bit now."
"Using their watches? And I thought I was nosy with our technology," John leant over his father's shoulder so that he could see the screen.
"I don't like doing it, but it's the best gauge we've got of what's going on. I don't want to tell Scott to put his watch onto transmit in case my call spooks Virgil even more…" Jeff glanced at John. "Did Gordon say why he ran?"
John shook his head. "No. He wasn't making much sense. He's exhausted. He was sound asleep before his head touched the pillow."
"Did he say anything?"
"He was going on about having to apologise. Said both Virgil and Tin-Tin would be hating him. He's regretting what he said the other day."
Jeff cast a slightly longer look at John. "But he apologised for that and, from what I understand, Virgil forgave him. There has to be more to it. What else did he say?"
"What he said didn't make sense. He's tired."
This time Jeff turned his full attention to his son. "What did Gordon say, John?"
John felt almost foolish. "That Virgil didn't believe that we're his family." He fully expected his father to dismiss the idea.
Instead Jeff nodded slowly. "I thought as much."
"You thou…? Why?"
"Just little things. The odd comment. Things he's said… or hasn't."
"Huh? Who does he think we are then?"
"I don't know..." Jeff turned his attention back to the computer screen.
They watched the monitor in silence. Then…
"Wow! Did you see the way Scott's heart rate spiked?" John exclaimed.
Jeff didn't answer. His attention was consumed by the readout the computer was receiving from Virgil's watch.
They both jumped when an unexpected alert sounded from Alan's portrait.
Jeff activated the link. "Go ahead, Alan."
"Dad… Good, I'm glad you're there, John."
"Why? What's wrong?" John asked.
"We've got a call out." Alan paused. "There's a car trapped halfway down a cliff…"
"You're kidding!" John exclaimed.
"Two occupants…"
"It's got to be a hoax," John stated. "We rescued two people from their car less than a month ago!"
"What do you think, Alan," his father asked. "Is it a hoax or a coincidence?"
"I'm inclined to agree with John, but I'd like your opinion too."
"Play it, Alan," Jeff commanded.
They listened in silence as a panicked individual pleaded with Alan for International Rescue's assistance. When the recording finished John nodded. "It's a hoax," he stated emphatically.
"I agree," Jeff said. "Tell them we're sorry, but we're unable to help, Alan."
Alan hesitated. "I was pretty certain that it was a hoax when they called, so that's what I did. But then they showed me something that made me wonder…"
Scott didn't have time to think. As the rocks above Virgil's head started descending he darted in and grabbed his brother, pulling him to safety. Virgil didn't protest as he was dragged out from under the potentially deadly rock fall.
Debris and rocks flew about them, hitting them and coating them in a grimy layer of dust. They ran as far as they dared, stopping at the edge of the bluff, panting slightly from exertion and fear. Fortunately the rock fall subsided before it reached the two brothers. They looked at each other. Brown eyes met blue and an unspoken message of thanks passed between them.
Scott realised that he still had a firm grip on Virgil's arms and let go, raising his own hands in a submissive gesture as he took two steps backwards. "I don't want to hurt you, Virgil."
Virgil watched him in surprise.
"Can we talk?" Scott asked.
Whatever reply Virgil had in mind was interrupted when a sound came from Scott's watch.
Scott took another step backwards, coming dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and lowered his arm. "Scott here," he said as the light from his watch cast an eerie glow over his face.
His father sounded apologetic, "We've got a call out. International Rescue needs you."
"What! Not now!" Scott exclaimed in frustration.
"I know, but there's a couple of people trapped in a car halfway down a c…" A small rock fall drowned out the remainder of Jeff's sentence.
But Scott had heard enough. "C'mon!" he protested. "It's got to be a hoax. That last rescue was widely publicised. It's a copycat…"
"That's what we all thought," Jeff interrupted. "I'm still not convinced, but they had live video of the car. That's why I want you out there as soon as possible to ascertain the legitimacy of their call. John, Brains and Tin-Tin have already left in Thunderbird Two in case it is genuine." As if to punctuate his statement the roar of Thunderbird Two reached them and the lights and silhouette of the mighty plane could be seen zooming out over the dark ocean. "Please, Son. You could be there and back before Thunderbird Two is halfway there. I don't want Brains and Tin-Tin to be involved unnecessarily."
"Okay," Scott acquiesced with evident reluctance. "I'm heading back now." He lowered his arm and looked at Virgil. "I'm sorry. I really want us to talk. Maybe when I get back from the rescue?"
Virgil nodded slowly.
"Um… The only way back is that way," Scott pointed past Virgil. "Would you mind if I slipped past?"
Virgil stood aside, clambering onto some of the rock fall.
"Thanks." Scott scooted between his brother and the edge of the bluff. "Be careful, okay? I'll see you back at the house." He started pushing hurriedly through the scrub.
Virgil watched him go, thinking over the events of the last few minutes. What had happened here? Scott had had ample opportunity to capture him, he'd even had a good grip on him, and yet he'd chosen to let him go free.
'Maybe I have been wrong,' Virgil thought. 'Maybe they are my family... Maybe they do save lives… Scott saved mine.' He started making his slow way back towards the house following the track he'd forged only minutes earlier. He was halfway there when he heard another roar. He stopped and gave a wave as Thunderbird One shot upwards into the still light of dawn and then rotated till it was flying at speed away from the island…
The island!
"Of course!" Virgil exclaimed out loud. "You're a fool, Virgil. He knows you can't escape. This is an island! It's a trick to lull you into a false sense of security!"
Jeff watched as his son's heart rate steadily increased again. "What's going on, Virgil?" he asked quietly.
Instead of making his way back to the villa, Virgil carefully skirted the complex until he was close to the aircraft hangar. Once he was close enough he crouched down behind a rock and surveyed the area. All was still in the early morning calm and he dashed across the exposed runway and ducked through the hangar door.
Once inside he paused to catch his breath and to get his bearings. If he remembered correctly there was a hidden door that led into Thunderbird Two's hangar. He dismissed that thought. Thunderbird Two wasn't here, so the hangar held no attraction to him.
Virgil turned his attention to one of the family jets sitting innocently, waiting to be called into service. It was unlocked and he climbed inside, making his way to the pilot's seat, into which he slid awkwardly. He looked at the controls. Those people had told him that he was a pilot, and yet he had no idea what any of these instruments meant. And, if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't be able work it out because he couldn't read them anyway.
A worried man watched him unseen. 'You wouldn't try, would you, Virgil?'
Placing his hands on the steering yoke, Virgil gave it a tentative turn, hoping that some of the memories associated with the operation of this machine would return. He was disappointed when they didn't.
Even attempting to fly a plane was clearly out of the question. If he was lucky enough to get it off the ground without being killed, or worse, caught, the thought of trying to land again made his blood run cold. Chances were he'd end up crashing it into the Pacific Ocean.
The Pacific Ocean?
Now there was a possibility! Gordon had shown him the 'family' yacht and had even given him a brief lesson on how to operate it. Surely he could use it well enough to get away from this place. At least he wouldn't crash and burn.
Jeff breathed a sigh of relief when the yellow dot departed the hangars. "Now where are you going?"
"Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One."
"Thunderbird One. What's up, John?"
"I've got you on my radar."
"I can see you too…" The blip that was Thunderbird Two disappeared off the screen. "Well I could."
John chuckled. "You speed demon."
Scott had too many worries on his mind to laugh. As he left Thunderbird Two in his wake his thoughts turned to home. "How's Gordon?"
"Asleep. He's burned himself out."
"I'm not surprised. I could see it coming this morning."
"So what happened?"
Scott hesitated.
"Don't worry, Scott. It's only you and me in on this conversation. And the Brat in the Sky. I'm not talking to him, but even he deserves to know what's going on."
Alan made no comment about his new nickname, but both Scott and John were confident that he was listening.
Scott thought for a moment. "Where are Brains and Tin-Tin?"
"Reacquainting themselves with the equipment. Brains is going down… That's if he has to."
"You're sure it's a hoax?"
"90 percent sure. If it wasn't for the video I'd be 100 percent convinced."
"Videos can be altered."
"Don't I know it. No, somehow the video seemed genuine. It's just the caller who's fake. I'd lay odds on that you'll have us turning back before we get there."
"And if it is a fake I'll have great pleasure in giving that caller a piece of my mind! Where do people get off calling emergency organisations just because they feel like it? Don't they realise someone in genuine need could get seriously hurt or killed? I'd like to take him and…!"
"Whoa, Scott! Calm down. Think about International Rescue's good name. We don't want it in the media that one of our members took a swing at someone," John said anxiously. "It's serious, but it's not THAT serious."
"Don't you believe it! I think I'd actually managed to at least get Virgil to listen to me and then this happens!"
"What happened this morning?" John asked quietly.
Scott brought his feelings of anger back under control. "Gordon was talking to me. We thought we were alone. He was saying things that… that I'm pretty sure he didn't mean, only he was that tired he wasn't really aware that he was saying them." He gave John a rundown of the morning's conversation.
"Gordon said that!"
"Yep. And Virgil heard him. He's taken it as proof positive that we're some kind of… I don't know… some kind of mafia wanting to use him for our nefarious schemes or something."
"That'd be funny if he wasn't serious."
"Well he is serious. When Gordon told me to 'knock some sense into him', Virgil took it literally."
"Gordon didn't mean it literally did he?"
"No, of course not. Even an exhausted Gordon stops short at physical violence."
"So Virgil ran away?"
"Yep. Up to the bluffs. It was that dark we could hardly see where we were going. I'm amazed that he managed to keep to the path and to push through all that scrub. It's almost impenetrable."
"I can see that. That scratch on your cheek has started bleeding."
Scott pressed the back of his hand against his face and looked at it. It was stained with a streak of blood. He ran the hand through his hair and felt the grit from the dust of the rock fall. "I should have got cleaned up before I left."
"You didn't have time. And you can tell our friends at the 'danger zone' that you were dragged away from a genuine emergency… which is true."
Scott continued on with his tale. "I thought he'd gone over the cliff, John. I reached the end of the track and there was no sign of him. It was so dark that there was no way that he could have seen the danger. All I could think was how was I going to tell everyone… I was going to have to say that I'd failed! That I'd let Virgil die!" His voice cracked, betraying some of the anguish that he'd experienced in that short moment.
John gave Scott a moment to recover a sense of equilibrium, guessing that this was part of the reason why he was so uptight now. "So where was he?"
"Curled up in a hollow in the cliff."
"Safe?"
"Yeah. Physically he was fine, though he's got as many scratches as I do. Emotionally he was a wreck. He was convinced that we were going to lock him away in a room somewhere like Braman."
"Like Braman?"
"I explained that Braman was a robot and he calmed down slightly, until I tried to get closer…"
"And…"
"And… he started threatening me with a big stick. He would have hit me if I'd got close enough. He was terrified that I was going to hurt him. " Scott's voice rose an octave. "I wouldn't, John! I'd never hurt any of you guys!"
"I know, Scott," John said gently. "Virgil knows too. He's just forgotten at the moment."
Scott took a deep breath "He's waving this stick around, knocking away rocks and things. I could see the whole cliff face was going to collapse, so I grabbed him and pulled him away… just in time too."
"Ah. So that explains the spike," John reflected.
"Spike?"
"We, Dad and I, were watching your movements on the computer. Dad had your heart rhythms on screen to try to get some idea of how things were going. I saw your heart rate do a big jump and then the Brat called in with this rescue."
"John!" Alan complained.
They ignored him.
Scott continued on. "It was then that he started to calm down. I think he realised that I didn't want to hurt him. I thought that I was going to be able to have a sensible conversation with him, and then…" he petered out miserably.
"And then Dad called you?" John prompted.
"Yeah." Scott lapsed into a moody silence.
"I wouldn't worry, Scott," John said, trying to reassure his brother. "This is Virgil we're talking about. He may not know who you are… or who he is, but somehow, deep down, I'm sure that bond between the pair of you still exists. It's too strong for a little thing like amnesia to break."
"I wish," Scott said quietly.
"Did you know that, when we were kids, there were times when I was jealous of the pair of you?"
"John?" Scott hadn't been expecting this.
"I know that I tended to choose my own pastimes, that I was happier with my nose in a book than getting dirty in the backyard. But there were times when I was jealous about the way you and Virg were…"
"Virgil," Scott corrected automatically.
"…Virgil were happiest playing together. You always had a friend to share things with and so did he. There were times when I felt I was missing out on a friendship like that."
"John… I didn't realise…" Scott was starting to do what he did best, care for his brothers at the expense of his own emotions.
This was what John hoped would happen. "No. Well it wasn't all the time, but why do you think I was always willing to let you two tie me to those trees, while you pranced around as if you'd captured a dangerous criminal? They're not the most comfortable backrests you know."
"I don't understand," Scott frowned, his face illuminated by the lights from Thunderbird One's control panel as the rocket plane soared through the night sky outside.
"Because it gave me a chance to do what I enjoyed, reading, and I was still able to be part of your games. I felt like, even though it was on the periphery, I was part of your team."
"I'm sorry, John. I… we didn't know."
"Don't be sorry. It was the way I was, and the way you two were... I would like to know something though…"
"Yeah?" Scott asked with curiosity.
"Whose bright idea was it to sit me on the ants nest, Butch?"
Scott barked out a laugh. "If I said Virgil would you believe me?"
"Only because he can't remember to tell me the truth."
"It looked a nice, soft, round place to sit. We were thinking of you, you know."
"Yeah, sure…" John drawled. "You didn't think of me when they started biting and, instead of untying me, you two started laughing."
"Sorry, John," Scott smiled.
"And by the time you did condescend to untie me, they'd crawled into my shorts!"
"Boy, did you move! Straight into the swimming pool. You nearly drowned Gordon."
"I wouldn't mind betting I did a lap of that pool quicker than Gordon ever did… before or since."
Scott laughed again. "And then you took your shorts off…"
"…And all these dead ants started floating up around me."
"And Alan and Tin-Tin walked into the yard!"
John reddened, a scarlet light on Thunderbird Two's console accentuating his colouration. "I was so embarrassed. Even if it was only Tin-Tin, there were still some things I wasn't keen on letting her see."
"I remember you were trying to hide against the side of the pool and get your shorts on at the same time."
"Yeah, and I could see Gordon's brain ticking over, trying to find some way of embarrassing me further."
"So could we. That's why we chased her. It was okay for us two to tease you, but you were off limits to anyone else. Especially when it was our fault."
"That always amazed me. Neither of you said anything to each other, but you both yelled 'Indian' at once and took off together after Tin-Tin. Next thing I know Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid are running after this little girl who's protesting 'I'm not Indian. I'm Malaysian!'."
Scott smiled at the memory. "It wasn't politically correct, but it achieved what we wanted, which was to give you some space to get decent."
"Yeah, but your synchronisation was perfect… I don't know how you do it."
"Well, you know what they say about great minds thinking alike…"
"Yeah, and fools seldom differ."
Scott chuckled, "and then that evening Father asked why you couldn't sit still… Remember what he said?"
"He asked if I had ants in my pants, and then wondered why you all cracked up." John looked at the chronometer. "You must be getting close."
"Coming up to the danger zone now." Scott zoomed in on a scene with his video monitor.
"How's it look?"
"No one's panicking. No one's rushing about and…"
"Yes?"
"There's a lot of video cameras on site."
"What! Are they filming you?"
"No. The cameras are pointing at the ground, and the automatic camera detector's not registering anything."
"So what are they playing at?"
"I'll swing round and check out our 'victims'." Scott lowered Thunderbird One into the canyon and cruised past the car slowly. "I've never known people in danger of imminent death to lean out of a car window and cheerfully wave at me before."
"Want me to turn back?" John asked.
"No. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt until I've actually spoken to someone."
"This is from the man who was ready to slam someone up against a wall and smash his face in."
"Yeah," Scott said wryly. "Thanks, John. Your little chat worked."
"Anytime, Scott. Just so long as it doesn't involve ants."
"Alan! Tell base I'm coming in to land, and I don't think I'll be here long," Scott ordered.
"F-A-B," the 'Brat in the Sky' replied.
"And don't forget to emphasise that you were called away from another emergency," John reminded his brother, omitting to add that Scott had inadvertently rubbed the scratch on his cheek and caused it to bleed again.
Virgil approached the boat shed with less trepidation than he had the hangar. No one could know that he was here, so he felt safe. Confidently he walked up to the door.
"Oh, no you don't," Jeff entered a combination into the computer that locked the door to the boathouse. "Sorry, Virgil. I've never not trusted you like this before."
Virgil tried the door. It wouldn't open. He frowned trying to remember how Gordon had gained access when they'd visited here last. He was sure there had been no locking mechanism involved.
He looked in a window. Nestled safely on her ramp was the family yacht. He could just see the name on her hull and remembered it was called Lucille. It had been named after his mother…
His mother?
Why had he thought that? Why not their mother? Why not the person he'd been told was his mother? Why not the mythical person in the video and photos?
Virgil rubbed his forehead in confusion. For some reason it didn't occur to him to try to break the glass of the window and instead he walked back towards the door. There was a keypad here. Experimentally he punched in a number…
"How'd you remember that?" Jeff exclaimed as he quickly re-entered the combination that slid the bolt home again. "Your memories are still there, Virgil. Why won't you believe us?"
Virgil pushed at the door in frustration. He'd thought he'd heard the lock un-snip, but just as quickly there'd been an accompanying sound that sounded as if it had slipped back into place. He tried another combination on the keypad, but didn't get the same result. He kicked at the door in frustration.
Now what?
He was trapped. Trapped on an island and held captive by this strange family. He could hide somewhere, but there looked to be rain approaching and the idea of holing up in a drafty cave didn't hold any appeal. Of course if he went back to the house he could possibly sneak in and lock himself in his room. They wouldn't know he was there and at least he'd be comfortable. It seemed to be the best idea and he started tracking back up the hill.
Once at the villa Virgil cautiously let himself back in via a side entrance. He'd nearly reached his goal when a gentle tread and swish of silk robes told him that someone was coming. He ducked into a nearby cupboard and waited as Kyrano serenely walked past. He congratulated himself on not being spotted and hunkered down to wait till he was sure that the way was clear.
"Mister Virgil is hiding in the hallway," Kyrano said conversationally as he placed a full pot of coffee and a mug on Jeff's desk.
"I know," Jeff replied. "I've been tracking him since he bolted. I feel more like an Orwellian 'Big Brother' than his father."
Kyrano nodded as if this were a perfectly normal turn of events. "Should I prepare breakfast, Mr Tracy?"
Jeff looked at the clock. "Wait an hour, then start brunch. I think everyone should be close to home by then."
Kyrano nodded his understanding and turned to leave.
"Kyrano," Jeff added. "Make it something special. I've got a feeling they are not going to be happy when they get home."
"Yes, Mr Tracy." Once again Kyrano made to make for the door.
"Hang on, Kyrano!" Jeff commanded.
Kyrano turned back.
"Virgil's on the move… Good, he's gone into his room," Jeff said as he watched the computer. "We'll give him a moment to get settled. I don't want him to know that we know where he is."
"Mr Tracy?"
"He doesn't trust us, Kyrano. He doesn't believe we're his family."
"Ah," said Kyrano.
"You don't sound surprised."
"I am not."
"No," Jeff said reflectively. "Neither was I." He stood. "I think he's on his bed. I'll go get washed and dressed, and then come back here."
"I shall see what we will have for brunch… Do you think Mister Virgil will be joining us?"
Jeff looked at his manservant and friend. "I don't know…"
Virgil sat in his room. He still felt trapped. Trapped by this group of people or trapped in the nightmare that was amnesia, he wasn't sure. But he was definitely trapped.
The funny thing was he wanted to believe that he had a father and four brothers. He wanted to believe that he was a member of an altruistic organisation. He wanted to believe that he was the pilot of an amazing flying machine.
So why couldn't he believe it?
What had Gordon said this morning? 'I'm sick of all this.' '…Break our cover.' '…Doing the supportive brother act.' 'We've all got to continue pretending to play happy families.' 'We're all living a lie.'
Living a lie?
Gordon had lied to him.
He'd trusted Gordon most of all.
Virgil felt betrayed.
He had to get out of here.
He couldn't run away alone, he'd discovered that the hard way. He had to get outside help. But how?
How could he get help when he couldn't read, couldn't write, couldn't…
Wait a minute. There was one thing that he could remember how to use… well kind of…
The videophone.
Virgil sighed and rested his head against the headboard of the bed. What use was that if he didn't have anyone to ring. If he could read, he could look up a phone number, but his literacy skills weren't good enough yet.
Then he remembered the last number re-dial button.
It was a gamble, but Virgil figured that 'International Rescue' wouldn't use a standard phone for their secretive messages. Odds would be that the 'phone would be used for ordinary, everyday 'phone calls. Calls to people who were not part of their clandestine group.
What would he say? 'Help. I'm held captive by a group of people pretending to be my family and some organisation called International Rescue? I'm stuck on an island in the middle of… the South Pacific Ocean? And, by the way, I don't know who I am because I've got amnesia?'
Virgil shook his head. No. It wouldn't work. But what other option did he have? He got off the bed and surreptitiously opened the door to the hallway.
The hall was empty.
Now, where could he find a videophone? There was one in the lounge, but that was a public area. He could be discovered.
He crept stealthily down the hall to the door to the lounge. To his surprise the room was empty. Without stopping to consider his actions, he ran quietly across the soft carpet to the desk. He stared at the 'phone. He still had no idea what he was going to say…
Well he'd just have to wing it.
He reached out a hand to the re-dial button…