I'd like to thank LMC for her contributions to certain parts of this story and for taking the time to help.

Chapter Two

Although the brothers all preferred their own suites, John and Alan had to settle for a connecting one, due to a convention that had been booked into the posh hotel. It went to them as Scott, being the eldest, knew when to pull rank. He could already hear them arguing through the rather thin walls. Scott snorted his consternation...and at these prices too. It never failed to amaze him how quickly his brothers could go from performing with the maturity of seasoned professionals, sometimes under the direst of circumstances, to nitpicking and other petty, childish behavior. He decided to go over and nip the situation in the proverbial bud, as he had figured a certain amount of peace and quiet into his agenda for the week.

"Do you think you two could dispense with the turning of inanimate objects into projectiles thing long enough to get settled so we can get the hell out of here and start taking advantage of this about-to-be short lived vacation?"

They instinctively stopped in mid throw as the commanding voice of their big brother came booming across the room. They looked at each other and collapsed into a fit of laughter, realizing just how juvenile they were behaving at the moment.

"Relax, Scott, we're just blowing off some steam." John replied a bit petulantly.

"Yeah, Scott, Alan added, feigning an Australian accent. Just 'avin a bit 'o folly, Mate."

"Oh, really?" Scott answered, picking up on the accent. "Well then...if one must have a bit 'o folly, one must 'ave a proper gowe at et!" Hmmm, or was that Cockney ?

With that, he picked up the biggest pillow he saw and joined in the ensuing battle.

>>>>>+>>>>>+

"Yes, sir! After they landed, I had them followed to their hotel, but they haven't come back out yet."

"Well, let me know the moment their status changes. We'll only have one shot at this and Stupidity is something the Tracys have never been accused of.

"Yes, sir. I'm on it." With that, the call ended and the vigil was resumed.

>>>>>+>>>>>+

Back on the island, Brains had brought the specs of Thunderbird Two's systems online and was going through the check list. Virgil knew he should be paying close attention as he read off the steps, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting to what Scott and the others were probably up to right about now. He pictured them on Bondi Beach, ogling all the surfer babes and sipping from something tall and cool.

" ...a-a-and then we'll go through all the b-back up, s-systems. I-is that okay with you, uh, Virgil?"

"Hmm?" With an effort, Virgil forced himself back to reality. "Uh, Oh, I'm sorry, Brains. What did you say?"

"Jeez, where did you go, Virg? Gordon quipped. "You looked to be about a thousand miles away, two thousand if I know you."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Virgil. It's as plain as the nose on your face...well, maybe not that plain."

Virgil cocked an eyebrow at Gordon that said he was treading on thin ice.

"One word, Big Brother, S-y-d-n-e-y."

"Oh, that. Well, our turn will be next, provided we get this C-check completed."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. You're missing your appendage."

"My what? Gordon, I don't have time for this..."

"You're missing Scott. Just admit it."

"So, you miss Alan, too."

"Oh, the runt? I...yeah, I guess I do at that, kinda quiet without him around here driving everyone batty. Hope he hasn't worked John's last nerve. He's not used to dealing with that on a regular basis like us battle-hardened types are."

"Yeah, after this, he's really going to be appreciative of the fact that his rotation in Five is with Al."

They shared a grin and a knowing look before resolving to concentrate once more on the task at hand.

>>>>>+>>>>>+

The animated threesome strode down the front steps of their hotel and into the street in search of a distraction.

"Do you think the manager will have us thrown out?"

"What, for scattering a few feathers around the room?"

"Uh, John," the youngest Tracy replied, "it was way more than just a few feathers."

"Relax, guys. I've been thrown out of better places. Besides, if they get mad we'll pay for the repairs and leave the maid a huge tip. After all, this is not something we've gotten a reputation for doing...yet. I would just suggest avoiding the front desk whenever possible."

John's face broke into a conspiratory grin. "Would you listen to that, Alan? Our straight laced big brother here has a jaded past. Which hotel, was it, Scotty?"

Scott shook his head. "Never mind, and I'm not trying to lead by example here. It was a one-time thing. Besides, I don't even remember most of it, except the brunette I was with. Well, at least I think I remember her face."

"Doooo tell!" Alan exclaimed. "Boy, I'll bet your diary comes with its own dycetylene extinguisher and a warning label."

With a twinkle in his eye, Scott simply gave them the cat-that-ate-the-canary look and refused to elaborate any further.

"Okay, we'll just have to get you drunk enough to spill."

"Fat chance..." His demeanor suddenly changed as all of his senses went on alert. Something wasn't right. He looked past John down to the next street corner. There was obviously some sort of commotion brewing. As accustomed as they were to being at the scene of trouble, it was only natural that the three men should gravitate toward the situation to see if they might be of help.

Upon arriving at the scene, it was discovered that a woman had been mugged and all of her meager savings stolen. Scott immediately took off in search of her assailant with John close on his heels. Alan comforted the elderly woman and waited with her until the help that was sent for arrived. He also checked her for any injuries that might be a bit more serious than the bruises and cut lip that appeared on her face.

John motioned to Scott that he would check the harbor front, while Scott ran down the side streets and alleyways. He spoke into his wrist watch. "Keep in touch, John."

John was just about to argue that he didn't need reminding of that when he realized that it was just Scott's way of telling him to 'be careful.' He smiled slightly and raised his watch to his lips. "F.A.B."

As Scott rounded one particular corner, he came upon an alley through which there was no exit. Finding no purse snatching suspect, he turned around to go back out the way he had come. As he did so, four burly looking men appeared around him seemingly from nowhere.

"Going somewhere, Tracy?"

His mind was ricocheting all over the place. Who were these guys and what were they after him for? Was it International Rescue or some disgruntled employees of Tracy Corp.? Curiously, his mind started focusing on whether or not his father had mentioned anyone that he'd had more than the usual degree of difficulty getting 'separated' from the company lately. Then came the thought that...oh, God. Had they already gotten to John and Al? His stomach began knotting up as that last though sent an icy chill through his heart. But, to the men around him, he merely said, "Oh, nowhere special, why do you ask?

"Oh, we've got a really cool customer here guys. I think we should show pretty boy here how badly we want him to stay." With that, four men raised what looked like four machine pistols and pointed them all straight at his heart.

"Well, I appreciate the sentiment guys, but I really can't stay. Besides, you have me at a disadvantage. You obviously know me, but you haven't even introduced yourselves."

He thought if he could keep them talking, he might be able to figure a way out of this mess. Great, Tracy, Just great. Is that all you could come up with?

"Oh, don't worry. We're going to get to be best friends, that is, if you behave yourself."

At that moment, a siren could be heard in the distance, steadily moving closer to their position. "Shit! One of the men turned and yelled to another. "I thought you said we were home free."

Scott realized it was probably the ambulance that had been called for the mugging victim. The momentary distraction though was enough for him to find his opening. There was a stack of debris littering the left side of the alleyway. The four men were all looking to their right, in the direction the siren was coming from.

Another of the men spoke. "Morons, don't you know an ambulance when you hear one?"

Uh, oh. Scott made his move, jumping to the left and landing on a crate. He used the items of debris for stepping stones as he climbed upwards and along the side towards the open street.

It wasn't long before his would be abductors reacted to this new development. The man who appeared to be their leader shouted, "Get him!" Another 'associate' aimed and fired, catching Scott in the area between his neck and shoulder.

He cried out and his hand went to his collarbone. He felt something protruding from the area and realized that it was probably some sort of tranquilizing dart. He grabbed hold of it and pulled it out as he began to feel the effects of the drug. He knew he didn't have long before he would begin to lose consciousness. He fought the effects and continued on, groping at the obstacles in his way. He had to escape, had to help his brothers.

"Son of a bitch! Shoot him again!"

His orders were followed and just as Scott had made it to the open end of the alley, he was struck a second time, squarely at the base of his neck. He could no longer resist the powerful compound. His hands groped for support along the wall but found no purchase. Slowly, they slid down it as the eldest Tracy son collapsed, tumbling down the mountain of debris that was supposed to have been his salvation.

>>>>>+>>>>>+

John wondered if his brother was having any better luck in apprehending the mugging suspect. It wasn't their job to police the streets, but hey, if they could get the poor woman's purse back to her with all of her money, all that would be left to do would be to take the guy into custody. He would've been long gone by the time the authorities arrived anyway. Of course, they'd have to give their statements to the local police, but then they would be free to return to their respite.

So far though, his search had been fruitless and he was now wondering if he should just give it up and regroup with Scott and Al. He raised his wrist to call his elder sibling. "Scott, Scott, it's John. Anything on your end yet?" He waited but received no reply. "Hmmm." He gave it another try. "Scott, are you there? Please answer." His forehead creased in frustration and then worry. Just as he was about to call Alan, a man approached him. He turned quickly, hiding his wrist from view.

"Hi! Uh, I think I'm kinda lost. Are you from around here?"

"Well, no, but I know the city pretty well." John replied.

"Oh, good!" I was supposed to meet some friends of mine at a place called Ship Inn, I think. You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you? Am I even close?"

"Yes, you're actually very close. It's right over there," he pointed in the general direction, "at Circular Quay. The area you're in is called "The Rocks." I'd walk you over there myself but I'm kind of busy at the moment."

The corners of the man's mouth went up in a sinister grin. "That's okay, John. Thanks, you've been a big help."

John's started at the mention of his name. "How...?" The sentence went unfinished as he spied a sniper down near the shore line who already had him in his sights. He was standing on part of a pier, a couple of recreational boats passing by below him. He saw no avenue through which to escape and before he could utter another sound, he felt a sharp sting on the side of his neck. He was standing near the railing and it caught him off guard, sending him careening over the edge and down onto the deck of a boat that had positioned itself in just the right spot. He landed roughly and cried out as his arm twisted under him. He struggled to get up, to get away, but the drug was already doing its job and he was rapidly losing any motor control. "Wh-who are...?" He shook his head, valiantly struggling to remain conscious. "Wha...do...?" But he couldn't get the question out as he succumbed to the effects of the potent anesthetic. Hey lay there, motionless, as the boat continued on its way.

>>>>>+>>>>>+

Back at the scene of the mugging, Alan had been helping the EMTs by telling them he had examined the victim and giving them the details of her injuries.

"Had some experience with this sort of thing, have you?" one of the paramedics asked.

"Well...um...yes, actually." Alan stuttered. "I have dabbled in it a bit." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "The authorities have already been notified and the police are on their way."

"Right, thanks for all yer help, friend. Would you like ta ride with her to hospital?"

"I would, but I have to go find my brothers."

"Oh, we'll tell them where you are, no worries."

They began prodding him in the direction of the back of the ambulance. "Well, no. Really guys, I've got to go."

"Yes, yes you do, Alan. And the sooner, the better."

Alan was nonplussed. "Hey! Just who are you guys and how do you know my name?"

"Oh, that's because we're here to give you a very personal invitation, Alan. You've been invited to the party of the year."

At first Alan thought this might be some sort of joke initiated by his older brothers. But as he thought about it, he realized that no, this was not their style. It was more like something Gordon would have planned for him. He tried to leave but it was too late. The two hulking EMT's opened the door and shoved him into the back of the ambulance, slamming it shut behind him.

He fell onto all fours and heard a voice say, "Hello, Alan." He looked up to see the old woman sitting up in the stretcher, a gun in her hand, pointed straight at him. Her smile was sickeningly sweet. "Glad you could make it." She pulled the trigger and the last thing he heard as he hit the floor was the sound of her cackling laughter.