Chapter Twenty – A Fractious Fraternity

…and proceeded to tell John everything, from their father's agitated state when he first returned home from his original New York City business trip, to the revelation that he was convinced that he had seen their deceased mother, through to his and Penelope's conviction that this Natasha Morgan-Evans was part of a much bigger picture, and finally, Jeff's investigation into the Miami Technology Centre and its mysterious director, Xavier Remington, the latter of which seemed to be directly to Jeff's disappearance.

"So that's why I needed you to find his location," Scott finished. John, who hadn't said a word during the tale, remained silent, his face blank.

"Well?" The question came from Virgil.

"Well?" John eventually echoed. "What am I supposed to say to that?"

"Something," Scott said.

"If I hadn't heard it from you, I would have thought that someone was playing a rather sick joke," John replied. He shook his head, slightly. "I don't understand why Dad would want to put us through that."

"Through what?"

"I always knew that he had double standards when it came to Mom," John continued, not listening to Scott. "He gets all grouchy and evasive if we ever enquire, or even want to talk about her, yet it's okay for him to drop everything and go chasing after some…some impostor or whatever she is. Now he's apparently got himself into trouble. Didn't he think about us at all?"

"You know what Dad's like when he gets hooked on something," Virgil said.

"Are you excusing him?" John asked.

"No, of course not. I'm simply saying that it's nothing intentional on his part," Virgil replied, in his calm manner.

"That doesn't make it okay, though, does it?" John pointed out. There was an awkward silence.

"I'll transfer the data link through to you, so you can keep an eye on Dad yourselves," John said, changing the subject slightly.

"Thanks," Scott replied. A moment later, Alan's portrait disappeared to reveal a map of Florida, upon which a little red dot was moving steadily southwards.

"So, when you gonna tell Gordo and Alan?"

"Well, now that we know where Dad is…" Scott began, but John cut him off.

"Oh, no. You've kept this to yourself long enough," he said.

"John…"

"No. They have a right to know. And if you don't tell them, Scott, then I will." John sounded uncharacteristically harsh, and because of that, Scott knew that he meant what he said. There would be nothing that he could do about it, either. From Thunderbird Five, John had a wealth of different communication devices at his command. Although Scott, as the eldest and most experienced, was Jeff's second-in-command as far as International Rescue was concerned, given that this issue essentially revolved around personal business, there was nothing that he could really do to order John to keep his mouth shut. Unless he was prepared to take Thunderbird Three up there and physically sit on him. However, that wasn't a practical scenario at the moment.

"He's right, Scott." Virgil's soft timbre penetrated his thoughts. Scott let out a sigh.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"Glad to hear it," John replied. "Anyway, I should get back to work, instead of taking up airtime. If I get a call from Dad - or Parker for that matter - I'll be in touch." He abruptly cut the connection, before either of his older brothers could protest.

"He's angry," Virgil commented.

"No shit, Sherlock," Scott retorted. "I'm gonna contact Lady Penelope. Let her know that Dad's on the move, at least."

"Sure," Virgil shrugged. He moved from his resting place on the edge of the desk. "If it's okay by you, I'm going to run some tunes through the piano."

"Yeah, fine. Whatever," Scott replied. Deciding that it was best not to pass any further remark, Virgil left his brother to it.

"Well… They say that truth is stranger than fiction, I guess." Gordon noisily tackled the dregs of a homemade smoothie with a straw, a slight crinkle in his brow as he thoughtfully contemplated the story told to him by Scott. His pale eyes darted across to his older brother.

"So, you gonna rescue him, or what?"

"How? He's likely been abducted by this Remington guy, somebody who obviously has connections of a sort. Imagine the reaction if a Thunderbird suddenly and mysteriously shows up on the scene for no apparent reason. A guy like that's gonna be more than a little suspicious," said Scott. "The last thing Dad will need is somebody poking around into International Rescue."

"What about Lady Penelope?"

"She'd be hours away, even in FAB1," Virgil answered.

"And I'm loathe to take her out of New York," Scott added. "Not with so much of this puzzle being centred around that area." Gordon nodded and made a final attempt at reaching the last bits of smoothie. After a minute or so, he gave up and set the beaker on the side.

"Couldn't we alert the local cops or something?"

"Same difference," Scott said.

"So, what if Dad takes a bullet?" Gordon was as open and straightforward in his thoughts as ever.

"Dad's too high risk to just bump off," Scott replied.

"Bit of a gamble there, Scott."

"Look, call it a gut feeling, Gords. Besides, who's to say that the worst is what's going to happen?"

"What'cha getting at?"

"Well, they're heading towards Miami. This Xavier Remington is a director of the Miami Technology Center, according to Dad and Penelope's findings. So, maybe they're on their way there for some reason. There may be nothing sinister to Dad's disappearance at all," Scott theorized.

"Mmm," Gordon agreed. "But, if that's the case, why can't we contact him?"

"It could be that Dad's being taken to see some top secret stuff and doesn't want the interruption, or the like," Virgil suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Gordon said. He tugged at his grubby t-shirt. "Anyway, I'm gonna have a shower. Let me know if you hear anything." He started towards the entrance to the kitchen. Scott and Virgil looked at each other.

"That's it?" Virgil asked, a little incredulously. Gordon turned back to them.

"What more do you want?" he replied, seeming surprised.

"Well…it's not just Dad here," Scott said. "There's the question of why some woman who looks exactly like Mom is running around out there. Doesn't that bother you?" The redheaded member of the Tracy clan paused and for once his face was drained of its usual jovial expression.

"I don't want to upset you any more," he eventually said.

"Spill it," Scott told him. Gordon grimaced slightly.

"It's not that I don't care, but in all honesty…it doesn't bother me," he said. "I mean, it bothers me that Dad's in trouble, and I know that he's probably got a zillion emotions churning around inside him at the moment. But a look-alike of Mom? It's intangible. I don't remember the real Mom." He looked down. "I wish I did, I really do. I think she'd have been fun. I mean, I've seen the pictures and heard stories from Grandma and things from you two and a bit from John. Dad doesn't like to say much, of course." His gaze settled on his brothers once more.

"I don't remember her, and therefore I don't miss her. Not in the same way that you and John can. You've got memories. I haven't. I can't miss somebody who I don't remember. You understand, don't you?"

"Sure."

"Not really." The conflicting responses from Virgil and Scott respectively made a corner of Gordon's mouth tug slightly upwards.

"It doesn't matter, I guess," he said. "So long as we get Dad back in one piece – or in enough pieces to put back together, at any rate." Scott stared at him.

"How can you be so blasé?" he asked.

"I'm not," Gordon replied, slightly defensively. "Just because I don't go around with a permanent scowl like some people around here, doesn't mean that I'm not worried."

"Yeah? Well, you're not the one who's got to shoulder the responsibility," Scott retorted.

"Hey, don't get mad at me for your problems that you created," Gordon shot back. Scott's blue eyes narrowed.

"So this is my fault? Is that what you're saying?"

"Not exactly. But you're the one who encouraged him to go."

"In other words, it's my fault."

"Look, if you wanna play martyr…then yeah, it's your fault," Gordon replied, after returning Scott's glare. "Now, I'm going for my shower." With that, he squared his shoulders and left Scott and Virgil alone in the kitchen.

"Thanks for the backup, Virg," Scott grumbled.

"It's not the time to be getting into petty arguments," Virgil replied.

"Petty? He practically put the blame onto me!"

"You more or less told him to," Virgil pointed out. Before Scott could retort, he put a hand on his shoulder. "Just calm down. We don't need this to escalate." Scott looked at him for a moment, and then his shoulders slumped.

"You're right. Let's have a beer."

"That's an excellent suggestion."

The sound of a door being slammed against a wall, followed by the sound of stomping footsteps was more than enough to alert Scott to the fact that a rather annoyed person was on their way up to the lounge. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see Alan appear. The face of the youngest Tracy sibling was bright red, and this, combined with his blond hair, made him look as if his head was on fire. As always when his youngest brother appeared in such a strop, Scott said a silent prayer and counted to ten.

"What's up, Al…?"

"What the hell is going on?" Alan cut Scott off before his brother could finish saying his name. In what seemed like one breath, he had spewed out his angry sentence and crossed the lounge to where Scott was sat at the desk.

"You've let Dad go on a suicide mission!"

"Alan. Calm down. That's not it at all," Scott said, standing up.

"Pretty much sounded like it, from what Gordon said," Alan fired back.

"Dad's gonna be fine," Scott tried to assure him. Alan, however, was too worked up to listen to him.

"I can't believe that you let him go off after some sick bitch who's pretending to be our Mom."

"She's not pretending to be Mom. Dad knows she's not Mom."

"So that makes it okay?"

"No, it doesn't. That's why Dad's trying to get to the bottom of things."

"It's got to be money. She's after money. There's no other reason. Now he's in trouble. What if we don't see him again?"

"We will, Alan."

"How do you know?"

"How do you know otherwise?"

"Stop throwing things back at me."

"You're overreacting, as always."

"I am not overreacting!" Alan glared at his elder brother. "I tell you what. I'm going to take Thunderbird One, go to Florida, and bring Dad home."

"Even if I were prepared to let you do that, Alan, what makes you think that Dad will want to come home just yet?" The suggestion clearly hadn't entered Alan's head, for he abruptly paused in his tirade. He stared at Scott, his teeth grinding slightly.

"You don't think that he'd try and bring her back with him, do you?" he eventually said, some of his anger dissipating.

"I don't know," Scott admitted. He'd been wondering the same thing himself.

"Because I don't want her here, if that's what he's planning," Alan told him.

"We'll deal with it when we get to that stage," Scott said. Alan opened his mouth in order to add to the debate, but before he got a word out, the eyes of John's portrait began flashing. Scott gave Alan a warning look before he answered the call.

"Go ahead, John."

"There's an eruption of Mount Vesuvius imminent," he said. "We've been requested to assist in the evacuation of the smaller surrounding villages, and then help out as needed in Naples." John still sounded rather clipped in his tone.

"Alright. Tell them that we're on our way," Scott replied. John didn't even bother to reply as he terminated the communication.

"Florida's gonna have to wait," Scott said to Alan, as he summoned Virgil.

"I know where my priorities lie," Alan replied. He stalked over to the hidden entrance to the hanger of Thunderbird One. Scott didn't miss the baleful look his younger brother threw him as he swivelled out of sight. Putting their father out of his mind, Scott forced himself to concentrate on the immediate matters at hand. Despite this, his eyes were never off the little red dot on its southward journey for more than a few minutes.

"So…yeah. That's pretty much the situation here."

"Sounds like I'm pretty much in the doghouse." Jeff looked skywards as if assistance would suddenly strike down from the heavens. "Well, I can't really blame them. And I don't blame you for having told them, Scott."

"They'll be okay," Scott said, although he sounded as if he were trying to reassure himself more than Jeff. "Once it's sunk in a bit. And once you've got some more information."

"Yes, of course," Jeff said. He paused and cocked his head slightly. "I think I can hear Thunderbird Two."

"You're right," Scott answered, after checking his charts. Jeff nodded.

"Okay. Do me a favour and contact Penny and tell her I'm alright."

"Will do, Dad. What's your next move?"

"Well, I've somehow got to retrieve my jet, and then I think I'd better get back to New York," Jeff said.

"I think that Penelope will be glad to see you," Scott replied. Jeff gave a humourless laugh.

"I'm sure she'll have a few words," he said. He glanced back up at the sky. "I can just see Two in the distance."

"I'll leave you with Virgil, then," Scott replied.

"Thanks, son. You're doing fine. Hopefully I'll be back soon."

"Hope so too, Dad." Scott's face vanished from Jeff's watch. If it hadn't been for Virgil's imminent arrival, Jeff would probably have taken advantage of his current isolation in order to vent some of the emotion that was presently bubbling under the surface. As it was, he took his frustration out on a small rock, kicking it some distance down the highway where it disappeared into the huge, looming shadow of Thunderbird Two. Despite the obvious wishes of Xavier Remington, Jeff was not going to abandon his quest just yet. There was still much work to be done.