Hello! From reviews I gather people are happy with the previous chapter. Lona Speaks! I remember running up to friend who had been reading this and amost hugging her when I could finally say, "She talked!" It had been the plan since...the first chapter but it took a REALLY long time in coming. But finally, not only is that done, but you lovely readers finally know about it. This story has been to me like a big present that you all are unwrapping slowly and I'm sitting, almost bouncing in my seat waiting for you guys to find stuff out. One major part is now in the open...but don't worry more is still to come. This story seems to be (crossing fingers) about 42-45 at the most chapters. I highly doubt the later number but then again, I never thought the story would have reached 32 chapters either. Please enjoy, and let me know how you like it...or if you hate it...or whatever. Thanks so much for your info.

Miss Elizabeth

Disclaimer: Don't own Thunderbirds. Only can claim Lona as a figment of my imagination.

P.S. (hopefully the last time i ever have to write this smile) words in bold print are sign language

Chapter 32: To Speak or Not to Speak

A tired and sore Scott slumped against the restraining straps in the copilot seat of THUNDERBIRD 2. Heavy lidded eyes kept focusing on the slim, silver ship cruising beside the big green giant. Virgil, after checking wind speed and flight pattern, turned to his brother; he could see how worn out his older brother was.

"I'm so glad we got you back, Scott. I don't think me or any of the others could take another disappearance like last time." Scott smiled tiredly.

"I'm glad you got me back too, Virg. I don't want to ever go through anything like that again! I just want to get home. The way Dad was, I can't help but think that a storm was brewing between him and Lona."

"Yeah, John made mention that something had gone on." Scott said nothing, but only straightened his spine and furrowed his brow.

Because of the faster speed capability of THUNDERBIRD 1, Gordon was the first to make it back to the island. After running post-flight checks and shutting down all systems, he made his way through the maze of halls and lifts until he made it to his father's office. He was just about ready to throw himself onto the sofa when a look from his father staid him. Sighing down at his torn dusty uniform, he semi-collapsed onto the floor and positioned his legs Indian style. Jeff looked down at his second youngest son with concern.

"Rough job?" The jokester's spirit revived for a moment.

"That could be one interpretation." The older man allowed a slight smile at the sarcastic answer.

"The rest on their way?"

"Yeah, THUNDERBIRD 2 was right behind me. Virg is probably being overly cautious. 'We've been too rough on you, old girl, today. Let's take it slow and easy; wouldn't want to hurt you.'" Gordon heard a snort of laughter come from behind him. Sluggishly turning his head, he caught sight of Lona seated haphazardly on the sofa, a small smile still hovering over her lips. A baseball cap was seated firmly on her head. "Was pretty good, wasn't it? Hey Lona, glad to see you all in one piece. You and Dad didn't go at each other's throat while we were gone, didja?" The two quickly stifled sheepish looks told him everything he needed to know. "You're not serious? You and Dad actually argued about something?" Before either could answer the charges levied against them, the com sounded.

"Saved by the com," Gordon heard his father mutter as he flipped the switch to answer his second born. "Reading you loud and clear, THUNDERBIRD 2."

"I'm on final approach, Base. All clear?" Jeff quickly checked the radar around the island, making sure there were no aircraft or ships in the vicinity.

"All clear, THUNDERBIRD 2. See you both when you land."

"FAB, Dad. THUNDERBIRD 2, over and out." With in a few minutes, the occupants of the room heard the low rumble as the huge green ship came in for a landing and taxied into the underground hanger. Seconds later, the lift doors for Scott and Virgil flew up and two tired men stumbled out of the tubes. Collapsing on the floor next to Gordon, the two men crossed their legs like school boys and leaned against the desk. Jeff studied his two oldest sons, who were one step away from snoring against the hard wooden desk.

"Scott, how are you doing?" Blue eyes opened for a moment and regarded their father for one brief moment, then closed as the shoulders raised in a deep sigh.

"I'm alive, and home. Anything more is asking for miracles." Jeff continued to gaze at his eldest son, until Scott opened one eye, and glared at his father.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm alright. The Hood didn't catch me this time."

"Can someone tell me what happened?" Virgil's eyes flew open and glared athis father.

"I'll tell you what happened. A family of four was needlessly put at risk because some bozo is after us. The Hood created this whole rescue so he could capture one of us. At least one person almost died because of us!" Jeff was shaking his head before his son finished.

"What the Hood does is not our fault, Virgil. I hate that he involved those innocent people too, but are we going to stop all the good we do just because of this one mad man?" The three men sitting around him, glanced at each other, and then shook their heads. Despite everything, the Tracy family was totally committed to International Rescue. The thought of one person losing their lives because they refused to leave their island retreat to give aid was too horrible to consider.

Before Jeff could continue the debriefing, Scott staggered to his feet.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I would be able to contribute to this meeting a lot more if I were cleaner." He watched as his father's gaze rested on each of the exhausted young men.

"Get on out of here. Shower and get your butts back here as soon as you can. I will admit, the ambiance of the room will be much better after you three leave." Gordon, the eternal jokester, could not allow his father to get away with such a statement.

"I don't know, I think this room could use our air freshener. There is nothing better then good, honest sweat."

"Honest maybe, but good is a bit of a stretch." Six pairs of eyes flew to the corner of the room, where Lona lounged on the couch by the window. Blinking back at them, she stood and made her way over to where Scott stood, halfway to the door and the bliss of a shower. Hesitantly, he took a step towards her.

"Did, did you just…I mean, it sounded just like you used t…but of course it can't be. I'm just really tired right now, that's all." Lona smile grew and, so it seemed to Scott, took on a mischievous air.

What did you think I said?

"I thought you joked about what Gordon said."

Oh, you mean honest maybe, "but good is a bit of a stretch?" Scott felt his eyes widen while he was struck dumb with shock. Brains had assured them that there was no physical damage to her vocal cords, but the Tracys had resigned themselves to the belief that Lona had willed herself to never speak again. They all knew how strong Lona's will was, Jeff had told her many times that what she had was the old western grit-to the point of bull-headed stubbornness at times. Scott had killed any seed of hope in him that Lona might break through the mental block she had built around herself, but now hearing her speak made him feel…nothing. He just stood there in shock.

"Scott?" He focused on the hesitant face, the shinning blue eyes regarding him with a question hidden in their depth. He saw that his silence worried her; that she was waiting for him to acknowledge her miracle. Abruptly, he grabbed her in his arms and gave her a bone-crushing hug. Happily, she returned it. They remained in that position for sometime, with the rest of the family waiting, joyfully watching the scene play out in front of them.

Finally, Scott pulled away and regarded his friend with a sharp eye.

"When did this happen? Is it all of a sudden, or have you been hiding it from me?" She shook her head.

"I…never…from you." She frowned and rested a hand on her throat. Her voice had worked fine before, then suddenly it was horse and about to give out.

"Lona, what is it? What's wrong?" Shaking her head, she tried to tell him what was wrong, but nothing came out. Agitated, Scott grasped her shoulders sharply. He gazed worriedly at her, watching her panic rising. "Dad, get Brains! Maybe he can figure out what's wrong."

After a hasty call to his phone, the paged man came running into the room. Stopping right beside the young woman, he pulled out a penlight aimed it into her mouth.

"Hummmm, ooooh yes. That could ex-explain it. Would you c-c-c-move down to the clinic? I'd like to r-r-r have you t-t-t-undergo some t-tests." Jeff rose from his seat and hobbled over to the trio.

"What do you think it is, Brains? Will she…can she still…"

"Of c-c-course, Mr. Tracy! I don't know for s-sure, but my hypothesis is that because the voice b-b-b-the muscle hasn't been used in so lo-long; it has atrophied. She will be able to t-t-t-s-s-sp-s-prelect to her heart's content all she w-w-wants." Lona turned a half questioning, half glower to Scott.

I prelect? He grinned.

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that it wil…might incriminate me." Everyone laughed, even Lona as the tension from the rescue eased with the sound of Lona's laughter.

"Well, you are making s-s-sounds now. My advice w-would be to start slow. I know you want to make u-up for lost time, but you're going to have to s-s-strec-stren-work out the muscle. I'd g-give it till the end of the week, maybe into n-next week, and you'll be j-j-jabbering like a j-j-j-parrot." The two Tracys and Lona hid smiles at the ruined simile. She nodded and took the spray that would numb her throat when it grew sore from overuse. "By the w-way, I think the Jets last won the s-s-superbowl in 2007.(the author can dream, ok!)" Scott raised his eyebrows at this change in subject, and then noticed the hat gracing the head of his friend.

"Lona, I thought you cheered for the Chiefs? You finally pick the right team?" Her look spoke volumes for her, saying: "Jets the right team? In your dreams!" He reached for the bill to pull it off her head, but she slide off the table, landing in a defensive crouch. With one hand, she made an insolent "come on" motion, and raised one eyebrow. Scott laughed, and mimicked her. They stood for several minutes, watching and gauging each other. Jeff watched, amused while Brains stared with a worridly puzzled gaze on his face; he had not been privy to the early years of these two as Jeff had. Suddenly, Scott spun and high kicked at Lona's head. Ducking, she slid to one side and attacked his open left side. Spinning, he blocked and let his right hand follow through with an attack on the back of her head. Lurching forward, she turned her fall into a controlled leap over his head, using her momentum and his shoulders to launch her over. Brains, who had been stammering out a warning about delicate equipment, stopped mid-syllable.

Jeff leaned over and whispered, "Impressive, isn't it? They've been learning different styles together since…well, I can't remember when they started. Pretty young, though. They know precisely what they are doing; neither your equipment or any of us is in any danger." They continued to watch the strange ballet taking place in front of them, as the two opponents laughed and goaded one another. Finally, Scott hooked one leg around Lona's ankle and brought her down. The baseball cap went flying, leaving the woman lying breathless with her ragged hair spilled out around her head.

Scott's gaze turned from humor to puzzlement and then suddenly his face dissolved into helpless laughter.

"It looks like you're no better a barber then I! When did you do it?"

"After your father yelled at me." The croaked out words would have been humorous if they were not so startling.

"Dad yelled at you? Over what?"

"My cowardice."

"You! A coward? Never!"

"Yes, I have been…"a brief cough broke off her sentence. I allowed the Hood too much power over me, and this, she pointed to her hair, was the first step in breaking that control.