Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the reviews that have been coming in. Katya and I have enjoyed hearing your reactions to the story. Here is the next chapter.We will trynot to leave you hanging for so long next time. Please continue to let us know what you thinkof our story,and whether there is anything that should be changed or not.Hope you enjoy!

Miss Elizabeth Blakeney and Katya

Warning: this chapter does contain some emotional anguish

Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds are still not mine.Just Lona.

Chapter 11: Thoughts and Throes

Virgil hacked at another part of the undergrowth that was all around them and then paused to wipe his brow. Kyrano was studying the area around them and comparing it to the map. He was afraid that the many years he had spent away from here would cause him to lead the Tracy men astray. Jeff was radioing John at Central Base. They had been traveling for three days, and according to the map, they should be nearing the district next to their target zone. Virgil hoped they would be able to move quicker. Every moment Scott was a prisoner of the Hood was a thousand times too much. Virgil was worried. In what shape would they find Scott?

Jeff signed off and looked off in the distance, not that there was anything to see. Distance in this forest was about three to five feet. He just could not bear to look at Kyrano who was working his hardest to help the Tracys or Virgil who's normally tan face was turning an unhealthy grey color and his bright eyes were dull with constant worry. Jeff knew his eyes must look much the same. It had been three days since they had began their search and close to twenty days total that Scott had been missing. The saddest thing for Jeff was that he had come to depend on his eldest's cool headedness and strength to help him through the difficult times that came with their job. With Scott gone, the natural worry was compounded with the fact that he had no where to turn to for support. He knew that if he asked, Virgil would try to help him, but Jeff could not bring himself to do that. He knew Virgil had enough to think about.

"Alright, Dad. Keep in touch." John signed off and let his head fall into his hands. Three days, three days and they had no word about Scott. John wouldn't have mentioned it to any of his family members, but he had almost lost all hope. The Hood was a mastermind. He wouldn't have an easy to find lair. His base of operations would be cleverly hidden; after all, he had not been found by most of the earth's governments, how could International Rescue think they had a chance? A slight crunch behind him alerted him to the fact that someone was present behind him. Before he could turn around, arms encircled his shoulders. Gordon.

Gordon gave his older brother another squeeze. John was the quietest of the Tracy brothers and hid the most. All of the brothers hid their emotions, but each of them had another to go to when it all became too much. Scott went to Virgil and Virgil went to Scott. Gordon and Alan did the same. However, with John in the space station more then at home, he didn't really have an emotional outlet. Except Scott. Gordon knew, as all the family knew, that the oldest and middle sons had many conversations that had lasted until the wee hours of the morning. Gordon knew that those talks were often the only thing that kept John sane. If that was taken away… Gordon hugged his brother again. They wouldn't fail. They couldn't.

Lady Penelope sighed. It had taken three days, but finally Injin Talmel's family had been safely transferred to England. Sir Edmund, an old family friend who knew of the Lady's secret agent status, had helped and was taking the Talmels under his personal protection. He did not know, however, that Penny was an agent not for England but rather for International Rescue. He would have done it regardless, but Penny had always been hesitant about telling him. It was better if the fewest possible people knew she was connected with International Rescue.

Talmel was sitting in the suite of rooms that were presently serving as her base. Penelope hung up the phone and turned to the man.

"Your family is now safely in the custody of Sir Edmund. He is completely trustworthy; your family could not be safer." The man bowed to his benefactress.

"Thank you my lady. I cannot express my deep and lasting gratitude to you for what you have done. And now I will tell you what I have found out." Lady Penelope leaned forward. This was it. This was what IR had been looking for. She knew it. She just knew it.

However, she was never to know the precious information Talmel carried. A small smack and the sound of breaking glass were followed by a grunt from Talmel. Parker moved quickly, pushed his beloved employer to the floor, and shielded her with his own body. The gunfire went on for some time, then it ceased. Parker carefully rolled off the young debutant, then helped her rise. While the police pounded down the halls, Penny could only walk slowly over and kneel before the dead man. One tear escaped the harden edges of her eyes. Then her gaze grew as cold as steel. The Hood would pay. If it was the last thing she did, he would pay.

Scott began to notice his slow climb to consciousness when the pain started to become more pronounced. As his wakefulness continued, he changed the word pain to agony. Every part of his body felt either like it was on fire or that a knife had been twisted in it a couple of times. What had happened to him to cause him this much pain? As his mind began to assert itself, pictures flashed through his mind. The Hood. Lona attacking…attacking him?! Lona using martial arts techniques against him. Where had she learned that? She had to have a black belt in at least one martial arts probably more, to beat him like that. After all, he was a black belt in three separate martial arts teachings, though he had to admit that several weeks of hanging by his arms on that wall had impaired his abilities more then he wanted to believe.

His thoughts flashed forward to the nightmare after the party. The whip. Lona's pain racked face begging him to understand. Then he remembered. Pain. Lots of pain; both in his mind and from his body. And the Hood's words.

"I will break you. You will be mine. Sooner or later, you will be. But first, you will have to watch Lona break. Then I will have you." Scott winced as his mind replayed the images the Hood had planted in it with those words: Tracy Island, obscured by vast black clouds of smoke; Alan and his Father lying dead in Thunderbird 2's silo; THUNDERBIRD 1 being used to bomb a hospital; and Lona, crawling towards him, right hand pressed against a gaping wound at her side.

Although he knew the Hood had shown him the images to shock and fluster him, Scott could not help but give in to the feelings of helplessness and fear. They had seemed so real, as if he were watching them being played out with his own eyes. This was an enemy he did not know how to fight.

Scott shifted to what he hoped would be a more comfortable position, instead the agony escalated beyond his ability to bear it. Scott let out a scream that echoed through the chamber. As he lay panting, trying to manage his anguish, a noise made him turn his head, despite the pain it caused. There was Lona lying near him, silent tears coursing down the face drawn in pain. She was moving slightly, shaking at times, then biting her lips in a futile attempt to hold back a scream, a scream that wouldn't be heard anyway. He called out her name softly, but there was no answer. After repeating himself several times, he slowly and carefully pulled himself over to the pitiful sight. Gently pushing her hair out of face, he whispered her name again, but still there was no answer.

Scott realized then that she was asleep; how she could sleep while all the pain she must be feeling coursing through her body, Scott would never know. He quickly felt her forehead. She was burning up, but she was also shivering. Long hours of training kicked in, training to save lives; slowly, painfully he moved closer to her. Carefully positioning her so that her open and bleeding back would rest comfortable against his semi clean shirt, he wrapped his arms around her. She needed to be kept warm.

And her clothes are ill suited for that purpose, he thought, looking at her torn and bloodied slave outfit that showed more skin than it covered.

Light. Bright, unfeeling light. Lona's eyes closed quickly against the blinding glare. And there was the pain. The pain flared up, and she twisted slightly. It was then she noticed that arms were wrapped protectively around her. Fearfully, she slitted her eyes open enough to see who held her down. The off white cloth with blue piping told her who it was. She was safe; Scott wouldn't harm her. Careful not to wake Scott, as he must have been in agony as well, she shifted to a less painful position.

Her mind began to pick up it's scattered pieces, though she wished it would not. She did not wish to remember. Thoughts, feelings, and images all began to flow around her while she tried to comprehend everything, anything. Lona's memories were rewinding faster then she could take. The party, the terrible attack on Scott, the beating; all were spinning faster and faster in her mind until it couldn't take anymore. Her body convulsed as her stomach gave up all it held. The convulsion caused a fresh wave of nauseating agony to wash over her, bring with it another stomach-wrenching heave. This cycle continued for sometime. Faintly, Lona could feel strong hands holding her, comforting her. At last, the attacks slackened, then stopped. Lona was left panting and worn out.

Scott was very worried. Lona was in a great deal of pain and was very weak. The Hood never gave them a lot to eat, and now she had lost what little she had. Gently he picked her up and held her in his arms. Though she was probably as old as he was, she was so small and thin and fit comfortably in his arms. She stirred slightly, then her tired head fell against his shoulder; she was asleep.

That was how the Hood's chief slave found them two hours later: Scott leaning against the wall, holding protectively the small, emaciated form. It had been many years since Tin-Wong had been free, and he had seen many terrible things in those years. Few things touched his wounded and hardened heart. Yet, he could not stop a single tear from escaping from his eye. The young, silent girl was dying, dying slowly inside. Soon his master would break her and when he did, the young man would soon follow. One of the first lessons a slave learned was that the Hood, given enough time, will always win. There is no escape. There is no escape.