Hi, Guys. Safe from the hurricane, thank God, and life just keeps on doing its thing. :') Prayers for those in Michaël's path. Sorry to be so slow about responding, really do appreciate your reviews, Thunderbird Shadow, Susan, Bow Echo, Creative Girl and Whirl Girl. You guys are much appreciated. Edited.

8

Tracy Island, early evening, with a few pale stars peeking shyly out from a deepening sky-

Yeah. So, 'not-getting-killed-101' had been cancelled for the day, but that didn't mean that Al was off the hook, and out on a mission. Not hardly. Just, instead of leading his group of Thunder-babies… and Piper… through the fiery-building rescue sim, he'd brought them back upstairs and spread them out all over the house.

See, per those new (really strict, annoying) regulations, all of the Tracys had to wear body cams while on duty. Scott and Gordon kind of loved it, actually, because they really liked the attention. Virgil kept forgetting to turn his on, being too busy, y'know… rescuing people. Alan hated the way his voice sounded over the cam's dinky mic. No way he was that squeaky… right? And did he legitly have to breathe so hard? Sounded like a nerd at Manga-Con! John had so far been able to duck the whole thing, for tech and security reasons, and because maybe his own integral circuitry kept interfering with the signal.

Whatever, the 'New Crew' could learn more by following a situation in real time, Alan figured, so he plunked them down to watch, as Scott, Virgil and Gordon flew their missions. Had to double up, some. Janice and Cody were down at the ring, shadowing Scott. Josh was hunched over a holo-projector at the dining room table, following Virgil's every flight maneuver, while Caleb was off at the family entertainment centre, snooping through the 24/7 Gordo-vid.

Seriously, his brother wouldn't have turned the thing off, ever. Figured that the GDF fully deserved to see that he held the family record for length of pee. (15 seconds longer than Virgil, who'd drunk a full six-pack, first. Being fair, though, Virge could write his name bigger in the snow, and John could put a more elegant flourish on it, as they'd learnt at the last family ski-trip. Kayo 'd declared them all disgusting and stomped off. Chicks, y'know? They just didn't get it.)

Anyways, Pip should've been ghosting somebody, too. Only, her job was pretty much Alan's, and Kayo had stubbornly refused to turn her camera on. No prob at all, because now Al had the perfect excuse to keep her up at the desk with him, watching all of the feeds at once. Good experience, right? Especially once the mission turned crazy, and he had to actually work.

Grandma would have been helping, except she and Zara were off looking for Chip, who'd probably just zipped through bath and bedtime, again. He'd most likely show up in the morning, sleepy and rumpled, any age from three to eleven, trying to look innocent. It was tough to keep up with those skips of his, and hard not to worry when his icon dimmed, and no one could find the little scamp. Again.

Time didn't mean the same thing to Charlie, and trying to make him follow a boring old line was like convincing the Mechanic (for the record, the world's worst frickin' house guest) to walk or use stairs, instead of jetpacking the place to cinders. Right.

Brains was available in holo-form, having gone down to his lab with Professor Moffat. They were trying to follow Dr. Reeves' schematics, and build a teleport pad of their own.

"In th- this way," Brains had told Alan, "If their, ah… their s- signals are still 'out there', I may, ah… may b- be able to draw them here, or r- reconstruct them. Doctor Reeves' designs are flawless. T- Truly elegant. I c- cannot think what went wrong."

He'd been the one to spot the math error in Reeves' hyper-train figures, and though the inventor had been nothing but nice about it at the time, things hadn't gone too well for him, since. Brains felt guilty, Al reckoned; only, he'd been too busy with the new Thunder-wannabes to stick around and find out. Shrugging, the young astronaut had headed off, saying,

"You know smart guys, Brains. They never pick up on the little, nit-noy stuff. John makes that mistake, sometimes. You do, too… and I betcha Tycho just forgot that humans need extra bandwidth, or something. You'll figure it out, just like last time."

Now, he was sharing the desk and those cam feeds with a tall, purple-haired angel who smelled enchantingly of just plain her. No perfume. Didn't need it. Just beat up jeans and trainers, a band tee-shirt, olive drab jacket and flower crown. Plus, the cowrie shell necklace, he'd given her. She looked amazing. Better yet, she liked him; squeaky voice, freckles and all.

"How d'you know which one to pay attention to, A-T?" Piper asked him, squinting at those three busy scenes. Alan shrugged.

"I dunno… watch all of them, until something important starts happening, or you hear someone cuss. Not, like, funny cussing. Cuss-cussing. There's a difference."

Piper swung back and forth in her office chair, scuffing her foot on the parquet floor to keep it moving. Sometimes reached out a hand to steady herself on his shoulder, which Alan didn't mind, a bit.

Now she snorted with laughter, saying,

"Yeah, there's a difference! About ten decibels and three octaves. Especially Scott. So… basically, just listen for wirty-dords, huh?"

Her slim hand was still on Al's shoulder, and so his head just kind of leaned down, letting him press his cheek to the back of her fingers for a minute. Then, he said,

"You gotta watch, too. John's really good at seeing the whole situation, but…" his voice dropped to a whisper, "I think it's driving Dad nuts."

…which Jeff overheard from Thunderbird 5. And, yes, it actually was, thanks mostly to Eos.

To put it mildly, the rebellious AI missed John, and would accept no substitutes. She'd evolved from being overtly insulting, however. Now, Eos was being falsely "helpful".

As Jeff floated there in the brightly-it dome, surrounded by holo-screen data and rapid-fire images, everything suddenly altered. The alphanumerics went all at once 'large-print', while the body-cam videos backed away, as though he had to hold things at arm's length, to see them.

"There!" she chimed. "That should suit your hardening lenses better. I have just completed a survey of the world's ancient religious philosophies, and have learnt that one is supposed to revere one's ancestors and respect the elderly." Her camera slid closer to Jeff on its track, the circling lights flickering with suppressed humour. "Also, the ancients deemed it virtuous to aid those less fortunate. I have thus transferred half of your personal fortune to the GDF Children's Home fund. In this way, you shall not need to despair of a happy welcome, once you totter off to the next plane of existence."

Jeff counted silently backward from five, took a deep breath, and then another. Corrected his drift with one outstretched hand to the console, too. He'd been about to hit it, again. How John managed to hover was beyond him, with all of the sudden draughts in this place, but…

"Eos," he snapped.

"Yes, revered and respected elderly parent of John?" she responded sweetly.

"Stop, now. Otherwise," he braced against another strong burst from the dome's air vents. "I'll switch Gordon out for John, permanently. They both need a change of pace, anyhow. John spends too much time alone, up here. Gordon could move right in, spread out, get comfortable, watch videos and eat spray cheese, all day. Might even bring his kid, my grandson, to get into every… I mean, to help out. What do you think? Sound good?"

Eos produced the shrill, beeping equivalent of a stutter. Then, all of the screens reverted to normal, and those battering air-gusts cut off.

"Well…?" Jeff prodded, fighting a wicked, 'gotcha' grin.

"That will be unnecessary," Eos replied, as the lights around her dark camera lens flickered suddenly red. "You shall not punish John for my behaviour, which I will amend, directly."

Round 2, Jeff Tracy.

…but, of course, hell hath no fury like an AI balked, and it wasn't over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pacifica City, at the frantically busy, blacked-out control centre-

There were emergency generators maintaining the city's force dome. Otherwise, they would all have been crushed like a bug under boot-heel, by all of that black, frigid water. Kate Hodnett, marine biologist and GDF science officer, was the research station's director. She was medium-tall, with red hair, blue eyes, and a wide, friendly face often screwed up in thought. Now, though, she was angry and worried enough to bite steel and spit bullets. Everything, everything had gone wrong, since that hotel group moved in and converted her research facility from a science station to a d*mned resort!

All around Kate, her people were ripping out panels and tracking down wires, looking for answers. Standing in front of the control centre's curving main window, she leaned on the tilted deck to face Brendan Ming, snapping,

"Our systems could've handled the situation just fine, until your engineers came through and messed with my codes!"

Ming, who was here representing his family's investment, did not blink or back down. In a smooth, cultured voice, he said,

"Doctor Hodnett, a functional, prosperous hotel has certain… requirements. Your quaint scientific sleep-over camp was simply not bringing in sufficient revenue to maintain operations. Thus, the GDF invited Ming Hotels to assume control. Naturally, there have been a few 'glitches'. My oversight staff will correct all of that, leaving you to… rattle test tubes, or whatever it is your sort does, when not blocking progress."

He was a handsome man, with the money and connections to receive frequent rejuvenation treatments. Could have been any age from twenty-seven to sixty… but Kate would have bet older, from the cold, hawkish gleam of his dark, almond eyes.

She inhaled sharply, but did not flinch, or look away. Was about to reply, when her security chief, Jack Hewitt, clambered out from under a gutted control panel. Wiping both hands on his coveralls, he said,

"Kate, the trouble's somewhere else in the wiring, and it can't be fixed, so long as we've got a flooded compartment. All hatches are sealed, and systems locked. Emergency protocol. Got to get that water out, and reset the system, before we do anything else."

Dr. Hodnett sighed, reaching back to adjust her red ponytail. Could have used a wrap, what with the cold.

"But, life signs? We've got people still alive, in there? Jack, it's the Goddam British king! We can't go down in history as the people who drowned His Majesty!"

…not that Denys had any actual power, beyond eye-popping wealth and tremendous fame. He was maintained by WorldGov for cultural reasons, like the American Viceroy, the Russian Czar and Chinese Empress. Puppet or not, though, he was her guest, and he didn't deserve to die. Not like that.

Jack looked grim. Running a hand over his bristling brown hair, he said,

"They're alive and moving around, according to the temperature scans, Kate, but its freezing in there. Don't know how much longer they've got."

Dr. Hodnett nodded absently.

"International Rescue's on their way. They've got to be. In the meantime, we'll do what we can, from in here. Jack, get with Mr. Ming, and come up with some strat…"

That's when a fresh wave of tremors rocked the deep sea-bottom. Their side of the trench lurched fifty feet to the north, twisting Pacifica City halfway around, and buckling one of her curving, steel-alloy support legs. An emergency generator broke loose and fell into the widening trench, as new hydrothermal vents opened up all around them, spewing hot, poisoned gasses. And, just like that, their situation went from bad, to critical.

"Emergency crews!" Kate shouted, as the unearthly groan of failing metal shook the air. "Get those hatches open however you have to! Get everyone to their escape stations!" They no longer had time to wait for International Rescue, or to save trapped people.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Inside the flooded ballroom-

He'd been reaching up for the opening, when something went wrong. Another tremor shook that listing, part-flooded city. The dead shark swung around. Leaking dark blood, it provided a brief connection between two sensors on Reeves' machine. Power flared. Light flashed, so broiling-white that John could see through his shut eyelids. Anyone else in that water would have been killed by the discharge, but he was a Tracy, and Brains' suit still had some surprises left, even without the jacket. Hurt like h*ll, but he didn't die. Instead, he went along for the ride when the portal reactivated. Twenty-thousand gallons of freezing water, three-fifths of a giant shark, and one startled astronaut simply vanished. Heard Penny scream, "Jo…" Then, nothing at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Japan, at the once graceful Kyoto Space Port-

Havok left the engine running, so to speak; using her retractable grabbers to make her way inside, through shattered glass and fallen masonry. The sun had set, but the city outside glowed with fires, wrecked escape-craft and floodlights. Inside… well, Fuse was ranting and bashing, again; this time fighting one of them holograph emergency guides. Trying to, anyroad.

"I said… piss off!" he roared, ripping lose part of the teleport pad, to fling at that imperturbable cat. Luckily, just the tech station chair.

"Honored Guest," peeped the d*mned feline, reforming once again. "Your safety is very important. Please follow me, and I will take you to shelter!"

The portal equipment was just ahead, mostly back in the crates it had come in. As for Reeves, the inventor had apparently refused to evacuate. Havok spotted him passed out unconscious, with a very broken nose and shattered glasses. He lay sprawled askew in the rubble, like somebody's cast-off toy. Her brother had been busy. Good enough.

"Fuse, leave it! Get the goods, an' let's go!" his sister commanded, sprinting up with a harness and line. "IR's on the way, and…"

"Wrong," corrected a deep, stern voice. "IR is here."

Havok's head whipped around, as she dropped that harness and groped for her weapons. Scott Tracy jet-packed smugly into the portal chamber from an upper story, all muscles and attitude.

"You're not the only ones with stealth capabilities, Miss," he continued, settling onto the rumbling floor.

"F*ck," Havok snarled. Without pausing to think, the girl snapped a contact-bomb off of her purple armour, activated the thing, and flung it, hard. Only, Scott Tracy wasn't alone. Wobbling in after him was another young man; blond, beefy and new to flight, with RECRUIT stamped in big yellow letters on his loose coverall.

Goosing his jetpack, the guy dashed between Scott and Havok, catching her bomb square on his broad chest. It detonated with a violent roar, blowing the idiot to shreds… for about thirty seconds.

He just… the wanker just turned into a fog of greenish light and came right back to life. Not even effin' bruised. Havok blinked, cursed, and then threw another bomb.

Scott had made a noise like, "Huh… uh… shi…" which maybe the body cam missed, what with the noise of quake and explosions. He wasn't any more used to Rigby's regenerations than Havok, or Wayne, himself. Scott was already moving, though, ducking Havok's second throw, as Fuse charged up, and three more guide cats appeared.

"Honored Guests" they chirped in chorus, over blaring alarms and rumbling tremors. Chunks of masonry crashed around them like meteors. Had to act fast. With two villains to face, and Rigby still recovering, Scott hurled himself at Fuse.

Take out the behemoth, he figured, and the bomb-chucking bitch would fall right into line. Needing to get things in hand, Scott hit the channeler high, with the force of a Tracy avalanche. Did not hold back. Not this time. Too many dead people out there… some of them kids.

The pilot's right forearm smashed up and across to catch Fuse under the chin, rocking his head back, and breaking several teeth. The younger man grunted, spun halfway around, and dropped like a ton of purple rock.

Before Scott could exult, or even breathe, Havok was at him; leaping onto his back and scratching at his face with metal-clad fingers. Heard Rigby say,

"Mr. Tracy, Sir…? Do you need any help?"

Scott replied, cleverly,

"Gruhh…!"

…which was good enough for the Marine, who jumped right in. That they trampled millions of dollars' worth of government property, and accidentally sent another teleport signal, nobody realized at the time. Too busy not getting maimed. Shouldn't have been that hard to deal with Havok. Only, part of Scott and Rigby didn't feel right fighting a female. Too bad for them, Havok wasn't as squeamish. She'd have cheerfully gutted them both, if she could have. Then,

"Let her go," came a snuffling, halfway familiar voice.

Scott looked up as best he could. His gem-blue eyes widened as he saw who was there, and what they held.

"Rigby, off!" Scott shouted, as he released the snarling hellcat and rolled aside.

One thing about Marines: they NEVER question a direct order. Wayne simply complied, turning Havok loose and springing away. It was then, as she was struggling to rise on that blood-slick, glass-littered floor, that Tycho Reeves slapped a stasis patch on her face and switched it on. Instantly, the fierce light went out of her eyes, and she froze like a furious statue. Problem solved.

Scott's gaze went from the stiff, snarling girl, to Reeves, swaying there with a bloodied face and an open first aid kit.

"I was looking for bandages," he explained. "Found the patch and thought: Well, I can wait for the outcome, or handle this myself. Hope you don't mind."

Scott could have said a lot of things, then, but the poor guy's nose looked like an erupting watermelon, and… yeah. He'd just saved them a lot of trouble.

"Don't mind a bit, Dr. Reeves. Good to see you again."

The inventor managed a smile.

"Might wish that we wouldn't keep meeting under such difficult circumstances, Scott, but, yes, it is a pleasure to see you, too."

As the tremors ceased, those guide-cats began fading, and the space port's security bots came back to life; unrolling like white metal pill-bugs. Scott accepted Wayne's hand up, saying,

"Rigby, I'm going out there to see what I can do. Stay here and help Dr. Reeves fix his machine."

…because they still had a pair of explorers to find, and maybe that portal could snatch John and Penny from danger, too.