You don't have to pinch yourself; it's really here! The third chapter in so many days! Something must be terribly wrong! Well, hope you all are continuing to enjoy the story as it unfolds. Just a reminder, the bold faced words are ones signed. Please review as my beta reader and I love to hear what you think of the story.

Miss Elizabeth Blakeney and Katya

Reminder: I can claim no ownership of the Thunderbirds. I am only borrowing them for a while and plan to return them unharmed...hopefully...

Chapter 8: Pain and Punishment

It had been ten days since Scott had been brought to the Hood's lair, nine days since he had met Lona. On Tracy Island, the family lifelessly went about their lives. Brains locked himself in his lab and frantically worked on a new idea. Grandma and Kyrano worked out the menus and cooked for the large family. When this did not occupy them, Grandma spent the time cross-stitching a pillow for Scott if…when he came home. Spreading it out, she picked up silver thread and began outlining the body of his ship. Silent tears fell from her eyes as she wondered if he would ever see it.

Fermat, Alan, and Tin-Tin explored every inch of the Island until they would know where they were blindfolded. The two friends had found it was better to keep Alan busy so he wouldn't think about his older brother too much. He was retreating from everyone, and Fermat and Tin-Tin were going to put a stop to it, even if it killed them.

The rest of the family was busy in the lounge. Jeff, his sons minus Scott and Alan, Lady Penelope, Parker, and Kyrano were busy making plans for their biggest search and rescue mission: to find one of their own.

"Kyrano, you're sure that both of the men's accents were from your region of Malaysia?"

"Yes Mr. Tracy. I am quite sure. I spent most of my youth there." Jeff nodded.

"Then I think we should concentrate our search in that area. Now," he said spreading out a map of the area, "this is the part of Malaysia we are focusing our attention on. It is still a very large area, and there is no way we can scan it from the air. That would tip off the Hood. There is no doubt that he would kill Scott rather then give us the opportunity to rescue him. I will not take that chance. We will be splitting up into groups of twos and threes. Always watch your backs and keep on your guard. We don't need more of us to be captured, too." All nodded their understanding and agreement.

"Alright. Parker, Penny-I need both of you to pretend to be holiday tourists. Penny, I believe you told me you have contacts there?" The elegant, young heiress nodded her platinum blond head and smiled. She could easily play the stupid, rich kid, eager to see how the other half lives. But she was sharp as a tack and knew how to listen without seeming too. She was the perfect spy.

"John, you and Gordon are to set up a look out post on the highest mountain in the area," he explained, pointing to the lone mountain in region. "Get permission, claiming to be doing scientific observations up there." John had a college degree in Astronomy and had already written a well-received book on space. It would be easy for him to convince the right people to let him set up his equipment. If they dropped the name Tracy enough, they would get permission. What would seem as an innocent observatory would in actuality be an amazing tracking station. John and Gordon would listen to all radio frequencies, and with a new invention of Brains, all phone conversations, too. Jeff would never let anything that sensitive be used by anyone but his sons, whom he trusted. John and Gordon would also be coordinating the search and, hopefully, the rescue.

"Virgil, you, Kyrano, and I will be backpacking up and down the district, looking for any suspicious activity." Virgil nodded. He knew it was fruitless to try to talk his father out of going on the rescue. Jeff was determined to go, and besides, it would probably be worse for his health to remain home, worrying about everyone else. Kyrano had to go with them, as he was the only one who knew the language.

Jeff nodded one last time and let the map roll on itself. As everyone was about to leave, he pulled John aside.

"Make sure you continue to monitor communications with Thunderbird 5. If Scott should escape, he will attempt to contact us that way." John agreed and hurried off to pack. Operation "Old" Retrieval, named as such thanks to Gordon, had begun.

The Hood left Scott alone for a couple days, letting him heal and worry about what was to come. During this time, Scott saw no one but the slaves who feed him and occasionally exercised him. On the third day, a door off to the side was thrown open. Scott strained until he could see who it was.

Walking smugly in all his princely glory, the Hood moved over to the throne sitting on a slight dais. Sitting down in it, he motioned for a slave to leave. He then turned and regarded Scott.

"I hope you enjoyed meeting my slave Lona. She has been with me for quite sometime and is showing promise." Scott saw red as this evil man discussed his destruction of Lona as a human being with humor.

"She is not your slave!" Chuckling softly, the Hood turned and regarded Lona herself as she was pushed into the throne room. Scott also saw her and his heart went out to her.

She had a new costume on today, and anyone could see by the tightening of her jaw line, she was none too pleased. It consisted of a dark tannish colored, silk bikini with long silky streamers hanging from the waist and middle of the arms. Her long hair was intricately braided and draped around her head. This time her hands were free, but a metal chocker was fastened around her throat, and a chain was attached to it. The male slave handed the chain to his master and left. Lona stood as still as a statue and seemed to see nothing. She was not facing Scott, yet he saw her throw imperceptible glances in his direction. This silent, tense time went on for several minutes.

Suddenly, the Hood jerked the chain hard, sending Lona flying straight at him. She landed in a heap at his feet and was unable to rise as she tried to gasp for air.

Scott strained against the chains that held him and screamed, "Let her go! Leave her alone!" Before he could shout anything else, movement from Lona caused him to pause. Secretly, she brought her first and second fingers together, then holding them straight, she brought them down onto her thumb.

No.

The Hood slithered over to Scott until their faces were inches from each other.

"What did you say?" Scott couldn't keep the loathing inside anymore. He could see Lona slowly getting to her feet, eyes blinking furiously, trying to keep tears from spilling over. He spat hatred and saliva onto the Hood's face. Instead of exploding, as Scott had thought and hoped, he clapped his hands. Three slaves came to their master's side. One quickly handed him a towel, and he took his time wiping all of the wetness off his face. Then he gestured to the two goons standing by, one holding a long whip. Quickly dropping it, he hurried with his fellow slave to Lona and grabbed her. Scott was horrified.

"Your quarrel is with me! Don't involve the girl!" The Hood coolly examined him.

"I want you to see what will happen if you ever dare to do that again. Besides," he said as he began walking towards his throne, "this is more painful for you then if I had them whip you."

Much to Scott's surprise, Lona did not struggle. Instead, she stood still as they removed the collar, and then forced her towards the middle of the room. Scott had not noticed it before, but there was a large circle there with wrist and ankle cuffs placed in strategic places. Lona was forced to lie down on her stomach, while her hands and feet were bound. Scott didn't know if it was on purpose or by accident, but she was turned so they were looking eye to eye. Lona's eyes were wide with fright, yet she was trying desperately to remain calm.

There was a vast expanse of silence. Then the Hood raised his hand. Lona could see it reflected in Scott's emotion-filled eyes. She saw it fall, and prepared herself for what was to come. Still, she flinched terribly when the leather cut into her skin. Though no sound escaped her lips, one only had to peer into her blue eyes to read the pain, both physical and mental, she was experiencing. Scott heard repeatedly the crack of the whip, but he did not register the knowledge. His whole being was focused on the eyes that seemed to scream for the silent tongue. Lona's eyes were fastened on Scott's face. She would not give into the pain; she would not give into the pain. Scott's heart broke as he saw one, lone tear creep down her cheek. And the sounds continued.

CRACK.