Hey everyone! Here is the awaited next chapter! Katya and I have loved the reviews you guys have sent. We're so excited at how well the story has been recieved and we hope it continues to be. Please keep reviewing, as it helps Katya and I to pull ourselves away from our mounting homework to write and edit. Thanks you guys! Hope to post another soon! Enjoy!

Elizabeth and Katya

Chapter 12: Freedom and Fears

Lona and Scott were dragged unceremoniously into the Hood's presence. Lona hung limply from the hands that gripped her forearms. Her head lolled wearily side to side. However, Scott was alert, though he pretended to be as helpless as Lona. Normally this would have fooled the Hood about the time Lona sang the national anthem, but today it seemed to Scott that the Hood was preoccupied and had brought them out merely as a formality. Indeed, after a few insults that fell well short of their mark, he merely had Lona and Scott chained up to the wall. Scott was not so ho-hum about it though; their injuries made it agony to have their arms hung at odd angles. The Hood, barely glancing at them, had hurried conferences with different slaves, then rose from his throne. He quickly ordered Lona returned to her cell, while Scott was to remain in the audience chamber. Before leaving the chamber, the Hood cast one last malicious look at Scott.

"Enjoy this time Mr. Tracy. These could very well be your last few hours."

Scott expected the Hood to return and finish him but hours past, and there was no sign of his captor. Slaves entered the room and extinguished the candles. Night had fallen, and still the evil man had not arrived. Scott was concerned, not for the Hood, which was laughable, but rather for Lona and himself. The Hood had not left his lair since Scott had been brought here. What had caused him to leave? Would this bode well or ill for them? Scott did not know, but if everything stayed normal, Lona would be brought to see him tomorrow. With that thought, he gave in to the weariness that seemed to permeate his body. He would not worry about it anymore, at least not until tomorrow.

The next morning brought, with the rising of the sun, Lona to the throne room. The Hood was still mysteriously absent. Lona was thoughtful.

He has never done this before. Oh, he goes off any number of times, often for days at a time. It's just…well, he has never let anyone off that easy like yesterday. Something is up; I can feel it. The slaves who brought me spoke in awe; it sounded to me that they thought something had caused their master to be uneasy. She paused, frowning at the rough, stone floor. Scott waited for several minutes, thinking she had more to say. He looked at her outfit. For some reason, it was more…conservative then normal. It was made of silk of the softest sea green he had ever seen. This one had an actual skirt that, though it was revealing, covered far more than normal. Today, she even had a see-through cape that had armholes. Scott had to admit, she carried it off with beauty and class. Finally, when the silence had been unbroken for some time, he ventured to voice the thought that had been foremost in his thoughts.

"Do you think now would be a good time to esc…" Lona flew across the room and clamped her hand firmly over his mouth. Breathing heavily, as she had not recovered from the Hood's tortures by any means, her face betrayed the fear she felt. Shaking her head, she shot quick, searching glances around the room. Then she turned her worried eyes, which seemed to Scott to be made of ever changing liquid. Seeing he was not about to speak, she removed her hand.

Don't speak that word. These walls have ears. Catching Scott's eyes, she held them. You are right, though. If we are going to escape, then we had best do it now. Scott mouthed his next question.

"Do you have a plan?" Lona nodded, then paused.

I know what to do once we leave this place. I'm just not sure how to get out of here. She glanced around the room with an expression of utter defeat on her sweet, weary lined face. Then a change came over her. If Scott had not been watching her carefully, he would have almost missed it. Her shoulders straightened, and her face appeared as if a sixty-year-old woman had shed fifty years. Her almost child-like delight caused Scott, unknowingly, to crack a small grin.

"What?" She shook her head. Running over to the side of the room, she stood studying the handrail that separated the dais from the rest of the room. Grasping a section of it in her hands, she gave them a hard, jarring yank. Nothing happened. Lona cursed internally. She was weak. A year ago she could have done this. No, she would not think like that. She had to get Scott out of here. This strange disappearance of the Hood worried her more then she would admit. She had overheard one of the guards telling a slave that the "Tracys" were in the area, presumably searching for their missing brother and comrade in arms. The Hood would sooner kill Scott than give the Tracys even a slim chance of rescuing him. It was all up to her. And she would get him out, even if it killed her.

Focusing every last bit of strength, she grabbed the pole again and gave it a hard wrench. With the sound of straining metal, the pole ripped from its anchoring. Scott stood chained to the wall, his mouth hanging open in utter astonishment. He was not entirely sure he could have accomplished that feat now, and he had only been here for around three weeks. Lona hid great strength in her small, unassuming stature.

She quickly walked over to him and slid the slim pole between Scott's wrist and the manacle. With one hand, she signed what she was planning to do.

I have to set you free, and we don't need the chains to get in our way. So, it has to be the cuff. I'll try hard not to break your wrist. Scott gave her a weak smile and a nod. He was ready. Lona started to position the pole exactly, then paused.

Undo the scarf in my hair. I think it might cushion the blow. Scott did so and tried to help Lona wrap it around his wrist. They were ready. Lona gave him a quick glance, then positioned the pole. She gave it a quick jerk towards her, and the cuff came apart. They quickly repeated this on the other cuff, and soon Scott was free. However, they were still locked in the throne room. Lona's brow furrowed as she tried to come up with a solution. Scott was staring hard at the floor thinking, while rubbing the feeling back into his numb hands and wrists. Suddenly, Lona grabbed him by his right arm and dragged him back over to the wall. She quickly grabbed his arm and wrapped the broken manacles around his wrists. When he started to ask what she was doing, she placed a finger on his lips. Finishing, she quickly outlined her plan.

I'll hide behind the door, while you call the guard inside the room. Tell him I fainted over there, she pointed to the floor beside the dais, well hidden from the door's viewpoint.

When he rushes in, I will slip up behind him and knock him out. Ok Scott nodded. He watched Lona run lightly across the room and lean against the wall where the door would hide her from sight. Her hand went up and made an O with her fingers followed by her thumb slipped between her upright first and second fingers, a K. Making the same signs with his right hand, he took a deep breath then began shouting.

"Help! Somebody help! Help me! Help!" The lock snapped open, and the door thudded against the wall. Scott winced. He hoped that had not hurt Lona as much as it sounded like it did. The guard rushed in and began frantically scanning the room. Scott continued his shouting.

"Oh, help! Please! She just collapsed! I don't know what happened! Oh, is she ok? What can I do?" He started taking rapid, shallow breaths, giving the appearance that he was hyperventilating. The guard strode over to him and slapped him hard on the face.

"Where is she?" he screamed in Scott's face.

"Over there, behind the dais. Please help her!" The guard glanced over, then began to walk over there, rifle held ready. Scott let himself glance over to the doorway. Lona was half way to the guard, her soft slippers not giving off a sound as she moved lithely over to the guard. She moved right up behind him, then attacked. Within a second, the guard found a powerful arm squeezing against his throat while a small, but strong hand was clamped over his mouth. Lona continued to cut off his air until he slumped over, unconscious. She looked over at Scott, who had run over and knelt next to her. Quickly she signed, letting the limp body slump to the floor.

Get my scarf. We need to tie him up. Scott ran over, grabbed it, and then hurried back. Lona showed him where and how they were going to bind the guard, and they began. Soon, his arms and legs were tied up with a length wrapped around his neck. If he struggled too much, he would chock himself. Scott tore off part of his already ripped sleeve to use as a gag. He felt bad, he did not like tying the man up where there was a potential for him to kill himself struggling. My family has dedicated their lives to saving people, not killing them for heaven's sakes. When he told Lona this, she nodded and began signing.

I know. I hate it, too. But I don't want him getting free too soon and raising an alarm. Besides, he has to be smart enough to stop struggling when he realizes he is chocking himself. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she grinned at him, and Scott allowed himself a brief chuckle. They weren't safe, not by a long shot, but he could feel freedom, and that was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

For the first time since their meeting on Tracy Island, the entire group of people working on Operation "Old" Retrieval was meeting together. John and Gordon were using their multitude of equipment to allow everyone to contact each other with their watches and videophones. Penny had told her story again, and everyone was evaluating the pros and cons concerning the continuation of the rescue operation. Virgil was the first to speak up.

"Well, personally, I don't see that we have a choice. We're talking about Scott's life here. I would take a thousand greater chances if it would bring us closer to finding him." Virgil's voice had risen, but he cut it off suddenly. He looked down at the jungle floor, feeling embarrassed at how much he had let escape. The others traded expressive looks among themselves. Everyone knew that Scott's disappearance was hardest on Virgil; they were the closest of the brothers. He had just never put his feelings into words, at least not in front of the entire group at once. Jeff cleared his voice, trying to take the attention off his second oldest son.

"Why don't we take ten and think about this decision more. It is…a hard decision. We should take more time with this." Everyone signed off for a bit and waited. Jeff went over and knelt beside his son.

"We will find him, Virgil. We will find him….Now, would you rather not be part of the briefing, or do you want to be there?" Virgil took a couple deep breaths, trying to force his emotions down to a manageable level. Then he raised his head.

"Oh, I'll be a part of it. I'll be there." The two of them were jarred apart when their watches started beeping. Jeff immediately asked what was wrong. Gordon answered.

"I don't know. John is monitoring the different radios and …you know, so he may have picked up something." Everyone waited breathlessly, could this be word about…or even from Scott? Gordon watched his brother's face grow grave, then white.

Gordon leaned over and asked, "What is it?" John turned to him, eyes unfocused.

"It's Alan, the Hood is attacking Alan."

Alan was terribly worried. The outer defense systems had shown two boats coming toward Tracy Island with all speed. They would reach the island in an hour, and Alan did not know what to do. He was the only Thunderbird operative at the base at that time with only Onaha, Tin-Tin, Brains and Fermat to help him. He had called Brains in to his lab and told him to come to Jeff's office ASAP. Then he had called John.

"The shots I have of the boats show a bunch of strong armed guys and, besides who else knows Tracy Island is worth attacking. It has to be the Hood. What the hell am I supposed to do with no one to help take out these guys!" John frowned.

"First of all, you can clean up your language, young man! Second, you can get Onaha, Tin-Tin, and Fermat into the bunkers. Make sure they are armed and have provisions cuz we may not get there for a little while. Next, get Brains up here."

"A-already pr-pres-here." The young genius moved behind Alan who was seated at the desk.

"Ok. Brains get some of your gadgets and work with Alan to set up traps for our unwelcomed visitors. You two will have to keep them busy until we get there. Understand?" The two men nodded. Then Jeff's face joined John's.

"Brains, Alan, we're counting on you to hold them off until we can get there. Be careful, both of you. And Alan," Alan looked his father square in the eye, "I know you can do this. Just take care of yourself and our family, ok kiddo?" Alan nodded, and then both pictures winked out. The youngest Tracy turned to one of his family's closest friends.

"Brains, we have a lot of work to do. Let's go see what miracles you've come up with."

Twenty minutes later, everything was set up. Brains and Alan had laid different traps across the parts of the island the men were sure to come. Some had already been set up, and all they had to do was activate them; but they had added quite a few good ones. Moreover, Fermat and Tin-tin had absolutely refused to stay in the bunkers. Instead, they were going to cover one section of the island with gas capsules. As Alan surveyed their handiwork from an outlook point, he had to admit they had done well. He radioed Brains.

"We're all set. Let's lay low so they don't suspect a thing. And Brains, pray. Pray they can get Thunderbird 2 in the air soon."