Sorry for the delay, chaps. Real life and responsibility has a tendency to creep up unannounced sometimes! Many thanks for those who have reviewed and apologies to those who are clinging to the edges of their seats ... I'm going to make you hold on just a little longer!

Honesty, it seemed, really was the best policy.

A tired, bruised and (though he would never admit it) scared Scott had not known quite what to do. And so he had simply closed his eyes, shaken his head and told Flight Sergeant Wellington exactly that.

Virgil and Gordon had waited with baited breath; stunned at their elder brother and this out of character despondency and at a loss as to what might happen next.

Scott had then wearily expanded on his reply; telling the RAF pilot that they really had no clue where to go, what to do or who to trust. In the current climate, he was not even sure if he could place any faith in the four Harriers that hovered expectantly in formation around Thunderbird 2.

After a few minutes of deliberation among the small squadron and apparently a call back to their base for help, Flight Sergeant Wellington offered a suggestion.

And so now here they were.

Virgil shut down the engines and let out a heavy sigh. He turned to Gordon and, despite the mirrored concern in his brother's eyes, Virgil had to smile. He had never manoeuvred the immense craft into such a tight spot and he was, quite rightly, rather pleased with himself.

Gordon matched the smile and reached across to pat Virgil's shoulder. "Yeah, you're good."

Virgil shrugged off the compliment as modestly as his smug grin would allow.

Gordon laughed and stood from his chair. "I'm gonna go check on our passengers." He stretched slowly as he got to his feet and let out a groan of fatigue.

Virgil nodded in agreement and watched Gordon head from the flight deck. He then turned to see Scott staring blankly out through the front window. "You okay …?" Virgil ventured quietly.

Scott watched the hanger doors closing just metres in front of the nose of their enormous craft and took a deep breath. He then looked to Virgil and managed a thin smile. "I will be … when we're all safely back on the island."

Virgil nodded, "I hear ya, man."

Scott frowned and was lost in his thoughts for a moment. A comm. hail then broke the silence around them and he watched in interest as Virgil answered the call.

"Squadron Leader Hanover would like to meet you in the hanger to discuss your options." Flight Sergeant Wellington began, "Perhaps just one of you, to minimise exposure and protect your identities."

Scott smiled thinly, there seemed little point even worrying about keeping their organisation secret any longer. He looked up at Virgil and could see his younger brother's unspoken request clearly in his worried expression.

Scott leaned forward and opened the comm. channel. "Sure. I'll come down." He closed the connection and stood from his chair, noting Virgil's small smile of appreciation. "Get hold of Alan." Scott suggested quietly, "See if you can get an update on Dad."

Virgil nodded in agreement and immediately set to his task.

Scott took a deep breath and wandered through to the cargo bay. He stepped inside and beheld the unusual sight of a London ambulance quite literally squashed between the Thunderizer and the Firefly, the warning lights still spinning bright blue strobes of light around the bay. He stared at the pinned vehicle and shook his head in wonder; the slightest deviation to either the left or the right and the collision could well have been a lot messier. Alex had done well. As it was, the front of the cab was crushed in on both sides, the main bulk of the ambulance too solid in design to squeeze through the gap.

Scott stepped a little closer to the opposite end of the narrow corridor between the Thunderizer and the Firefly and frowned in confusion; he did not recall the front windscreen shattering and yet the toughened, smashed glass lay in its rubber frame on the floor in front of the disfigured cab. Scott then remembered Alex and knew what had happened; unable to exit from the crushed doors, she must have kicked the damaged glass out and climbed out the front of the cab.

Heading round the Firefly, Scott approached the oddly untouched rear of the ambulance and heard the voices within. He headed up to the open rear doors and peered inside. Alex was perched on the edge of the stretcher, cradling John in her arms and nestling her face in his hair. Scott's eyes moved from Alex's tearstained face to the pale form of his brother. John seemed worryingly quiet and Scott's heart leapt into his throat. He then saw the frown of discomfort that pulled at John's face and watched his grip tighten on Alex's arm.

"This is gonna need stitches." Gordon offered quietly.

Scott tore his gaze from John and suddenly registered that Gordon was kneeling on the floor of the ambulance beside Alex, gently cleaning a deep gash in her left calf. Scott thought back to the windscreen and shuddered.

"Scott?"

Scott looked up and saw Alex watching him expectantly.

"What's going on?"

Scott saw John glance at him momentarily and then sink back into Alex's embrace with a shudder. He stepped up closer to the ambulance and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I guess we're gonna hide out here for a while." Scott shrugged.

"And where exactly is 'here'?" Alex frowned.

Scott paused for a moment, trying to read her angry expression and realising in empathy that pain and fear was causing her shortness. He nodded in understanding, without a comm. device she would of course have had no clue what was happening. "I'm sorry." The words seemed hollow in the echo of the cargo bay and he decided he ought to repeat them at some later, safer point. "RAF Northolt."

Alex's frown grew and then she suddenly smiled. "I guess we really got someone's attention."

"What d'you mean?" Scott queried, noting that Gordon was looking between them both in interest.

"Northolt is the Royal Squadron." Alex replied, "They don't let just any old folk land here."

"Cool!" Gordon enthused.

Scott smiled and turned to head towards the cargo bay doors and his access down into the hanger, hoping that they were at long last getting the break they so desperately needed. He glanced back as he reached the edge of the hangar and smiled in delight as he saw just how tight a squeeze it had been to fit the giant green craft into the barely big enough space. Virgil had indeed done well.

Separating the three of them was a wise tactical move, Penny had to grant the impostor that much at least. She made no attempt to struggle as she was led through to the dining room and secured firmly to one of the antique French mahogany high back chairs.

The woman stood before her, waving off the man that had tied Penny's arms tightly behind her.

Penny looked up in interest, frowning as she tried to work out whom this strange likeness of her might be. Brains' reaction had intrigued her even further but they had been separated before he had chance to reveal what he knew. Now Penny found herself searching for any genetic similarity to Fermat in the woman's apparently surgically altered face.

"I've deciphered the codes and have gained access to your wonderful toys." The woman began calmly, "I especially love your fabulous car." She giggled slightly and then cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "But to really be you, I'm going to need a lot more than gadgetry."

Penny listened in silence.

"Now, I have a list of your contacts but I'm sure a clever girl like you has got all sorts of secret passwords and club handshakes." The woman continued. "And you're going to tell me all of them."

Penny nodded slowly, considering her words. "Or …?"

The woman laughed, "Oh, don't be so silly! I've got Jeff and Professor Hackenbacker back there!" She pointed out beyond the room and her smile faded. "Do I really have to spell it out …?"

Penny watched her for a moment. "What is it? What is the link between you and the Professor?"

"He was my way in." The woman replied, "Nothing more."

Penny studied the woman's face and was sure she could see her blushing slightly. "But … I don't understand … if you like him, why do this to him?" She saw the slight hesitation and the anger that flashed in the woman's eyes and the answer was suddenly so obvious. Penny nodded slowly, "A woman scorned, eh?"

The slap was hard and Penny gasped in shock as the world spun around her briefly. Her cheek was stinging painfully as she sat back upright and glared defiantly up at her captor.

"It doesn't matter what my reasons are," The woman argued a little shrilly, "The fact is that you are my prisoner and I will cause harm to your friends unless you tell me what I want to know. Honestly! How hard is that?"

"I don't believe you." Penny countered softly.

"What!"

Penny took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't believe that you will harm them."

"I …" The woman stepped back from her, unsure how to respond.

"I think you are a small part of this whole operation and you may even be a captive yourself, forced into helping the people behind this plot in exchange for a lesser sentence." Penny watched for a reaction and thought she saw what she was hoping for. "I think you are smarter than they give you credit for and you have found a way to escape their hold on you. This now has nothing to do with the original plan. This is you working for your own ends."

"I … um …" The woman backed up further and the back of her legs caught the edge of a spare chair at the side of the room. She sat down heavily and let out a slight sob.

"I am right, am I not?" Penny prompted.

The woman hung her head and nodded slightly.

Penny smiled in delight and then her concern wiped the pleasure from her flushed face. "We can help each other now … find a way out of this together."

The woman looked up slowly. "How?"

Penny shrugged, "Well, what is the plan? What are your orders?"

"Oh, I am not falling for that one!" The woman stood back up suddenly, drawing a small pistol from the pocket of her jacket and aiming it directly at Penny. "I tell you the plans and then you back out of your end of the bargain, leaving me royally screwed!"

"No!" Penny shook her head emphatically, "You have my word, I will - "

"Your word?" The woman advanced on Penny once again, "What good is the word of a prisoner trying desperately to escape!"

"I …" Penny stared in fear at the barrel of the fast approaching pistol and decided perhaps she ought to now be quiet.

The woman stopped a metre or so short of Penny and suddenly sighed in dismay. She put the pistol back in her pocket and raised her hands in a gesture of calm. "Listen … this was never how it was supposed to be … " She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "It was all supposed to be so different … Thunderbird 1 would see the facility, come back to investigate and be implicated in an explosion. The various agencies would become involved and International Rescue would be forced to suspend operations pending investigation and subsequent exposure and collapse." She sighed heavily, "None of the rest of it was supposed to happen … I really don't know what went wrong."

Penny watched with baited breath, the pieces of the whole messy puzzle of the past week beginning to somehow fit into place.

"It was so well thought out and meticulously planned … I don't understand where the plan failed."

Penny took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I think perhaps there were a few players who were not playing the parts they were given."

The woman nodded slightly. "Perhaps …"

"I mean …" Penny frowned in thought, "How can you be sure of anyone capable of the things that have been done? How can you trust people who lie and deceive for their own gain?"

"You mean you."

Penny smiled thinly, "Indeed. Even me." She sighed and shook her head slowly. "But you have to ask yourself whether you would want to be caught up in a scheme with the sole purpose of destroying an organisation who's only intention is to help people, to save lives."

And now it seemed the woman was cringing with embarrassment or even guilt.

"What?" Penny frowned in concern. "What is it?"

The woman shrugged slightly, suddenly uncomfortable under Penny's gaze. "Some people can be most … persuasive …"

"Money?"

"Sometimes."

Penny thought back over what the woman had said and how she had reacted to Brains. "Recognition?"

"Perhaps."

Penny nodded in understanding.

"I am very clever, you know." The woman expanded suddenly, "And scientific discovery is a very hard avenue to pursue – especially for a woman. No matter what the propaganda might tell you."

Science, Penny thought to herself, that explains the Brains link at last.

"There are only two basic routes a genius can take, you know. You use your talent for the good of mankind – a rather exclusive club – or you use it to exploit people." She laughed quietly, "Guess which one is easier …"

Penny watched her for a moment, suddenly able to understand her and wanting to know more about her. If she was as smart as Brains and could be convinced to help them out, she could potentially be a valuable ally. "What if I was to give you a third option?"

The woman watched her expectantly. "Go on."

"What if - "

And then it all happened. So fast that Penny barely had time to register what was occurring, let alone warn anyone. Parker suddenly appeared at the door to the dining room, having apparently escaped his captors. The woman saw him and spun to face him and it seemed this was the whole idea, for Jeff then ran headlong into the dining room from the concealed entrance on the other side. The woman panicked, drew her pistol and fired.

Parker flew backwards with the force of the bullet impact and landed in a heap on the hall floor. Jeff leapt at the woman and rugby tackled her to the ground, reaching for her weapon and gasping in shock as it fired again. They struggled together on the antique silk rug that crumpled and slid over the polished oak floorboards. Finally Jeff caught her in a solid grip and she sank against the floor in submission.

Jeff looked up and saw with relief that Parker was slowly pulled himself up, groaning in discomfort and annoyance. He couldn't help but smile as he watched the greying man glaring at him in angrily and Parker then reached up under his jacket to pull free the ornate silver tray that had saved his life.

Parker studied the dented tray and the bullet squashed against it and groaned loudly, tossing the tray aside in disgust. "Just in case, eh?" Parker growled.

Jeff chuckled, more in delight that the beloved old guy was okay than amusement at the situation. "Well, it worked, didn't it?"

"Hmph!" Parker replied.

Jeff struggled to his knees and sat astride his prisoner. "Give us a hand, then."

"Alright, alright!" Parker groaned and reached up to grab the door handle to pull himself up onto his feet. He continued his grumbling as he stood and brushed his suit down and then began forwards but he then paused and gasped in shock.

Jeff froze. He didn't dare look in the direction of Parker's devastated stare but suddenly he knew what it was that the butler had seen.

"M'Lady!" Parker choked dryly and leapt forward to hurry across the room.

tbc ...