Hi, guys. :) Getting a quick one out, before I head off to join the merry throng of Christmas shoppers. My favorite season of the year. Kind of different, this time around, because of Mum's passing, but she's still here with me, in heart and love and fond memory. Edited.

32

Somewhere-

The time had come for a change in plan. Direct questioning had produced very little in the way of useful information, for the prisoned subject was stubborn. Recalcitrant. There were ways around this, of course, but not with the time and technology at hand. Instead, a message had been sent and permitted to propagate, meaning that "rescuers" would soon break in, searching for their captured ally. Some were alarmed by this prospect, and chose to retreat. But, managed correctly, the arrival of unwitting, would-be heroes simply created more sources. Let them come, this "kao" and "ribby". They, too, would be fathomed and used.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pacifica City, in groaning darkness and cold-

In the entire history of sudden, welcome appearances (Bertie from that cunning, pierced golden box, on Unity Day… Scott, through her unlocked balcony doors that first, wild night…Virgil, when she'd just about worked herself free of those d*mned railway tracks) this one came near to topping her list. Penny had chosen to climb up that maintenance service ladder, because survival instinct recommended height-above-situation, always. She'd got ten yards or so, pausing occasionally for breath, and to rest her cramped muscles… when someone spoke up, saying,

"Mornin', Milady. H-If y'll take me 'and, H-I'll 'elp you through the 'atch, 'ere. Mind yer step."

There in the chill, damp blackness, surrounded by flexing and creaking metal, thousands of miles below water, she'd encountered a friend.

"Parker!" exclaimed the weary young noblewoman, feeling about for his hand. "You've come at a most opportune time. Is our John present, as well?"

Parker's work-roughened hand closed around Her Ladyship's, drawing her up off that access ladder, and through a doubtless "safe-cracked" hatch. Beyond lay a smallish room, with echoes that indicated a second, nearby opening. She heard some rustling noises… possibly the driver, shaking his head.

"No, Milady. 'Ee weren't down in th' ballroom, f'r all of me searchin'. Found… well, there were some as couldn' be 'elped anymore, Lor' bless 'em… but no Mister John. I expect 'ees found h-another way out, Milady."

(As for his own, very near brush with disaster: if a lifetime of cat-burglary didn't prepare a bloke for getting through doorways in all sorts of circumstances, then what was the point of becoming an article-liberation specialist?)

Penny inhaled sharply, absorbing this crushing news. She was, of course, perfectly capable of managing a rescue unaided… but another friend, especially one with John's devilish luck… would have been most welcome.

"I see. Well, as you say, Parker, he has no doubt taken an alternate route, and shall be joining us, presently. For the nonce, there's work to be done. His Majesty awaits us, below… and International Rescue are most certainly on-site, repairing and righting the city."

Another rustling noise followed. Most likely a nod, this time.

"Best we get to 'em, then, quick h-as possible. H- Are y'r guests in condition to climb, Milady?"

Still battling disappointment, Penelope sniffled. Then, squaring slim, half-frozen shoulders, she said,

"They are British, most of them, Parker. They shall rise to meet the occasion. As for the Yanks… hybrid vigor, and all that. The Duchess may require a bit of aid, however, and there's dear Bertie yet to be found. Quite the filled dance card, and not a moment to waste. Carry on, Parker."

She'd retained his big, rough hand, all this time; now turned it loose with a single, fond squeeze. Somehow, her situation had just become infinitely less painful and frightening, because there was one more voice in the darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Thunderbird 3, dodging and weaving through scary dang ship traffic-

Pip hadn't felt it, but Alan just knew. Something was wrong. Something awful had happened to Scott.

"Oh, crap," he whispered, almost smashing right into a lumbering government ore freighter. Seriously, got close enough to see the guy's eye-color.

"What?" Piper asked him, still watching her view screen like a tall, pretty hawk.

"I… it's hard to explain, but… but we gotta get out of this crowd, Pip," he urged, biting his lower lip. "I gotta call in and find out what's happening."

The worried young astronaut wasn't giving up on John or the Pendergasts… not without a bust-your-face fight… but his gut told him that Scott was in sudden horrible danger. That he needed the rest to come running, right the heck now.

Piper didn't ask any more questions, 'cause, y'know… she was cool, like that. Just started calling out altered directions, faster than ever before.

"Up about fifty feet, A-T, then west a few klicks, behind that fuel tanker; widening clear space."

Alan responded without consciously thinking; flying in direct response to her calm, rapid words; golden-haired astronaut and flower-crowned goddess, thinking and acting as one. Pip rapped out a stream of coordinates while Alan flew, making 3 dance and flit through that crowd like a ruby hummingbird.

He hadn't had sex, yet. Had heard all about it… read some stuff… used to dream a lot about Kayo… but never… you know. But, maybe it was something like this? Like being so close to someone that you were moving and thinking completely together? Total trust, on both sides?

Anyways, they got up out of the worst of that space traffic (denser than back when he'd been dragging the stupid nuclear mine, even) and Al dropped out of stealth mode. Took a sec to hug Piper, real tight, then hit the comm.

"Dad… (Shoot!) Um, Thunderbird 5 from Thunderbird 3. What's going on, down there?!"

Didn't get an answer right away, 'cause he wasn't the only one asking.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Far below and away, in the silvery prototype-

Captain Lee Taylor hadn't had much experience with deep-sea operations, but even so, conditions struck him as downright peculiar. On the way down, he'd encountered strange flashes of light, turbulent, spiraling water, and fleeing sea-life, getting worse as they plunged. Some of those critters didn't belong this high up, neither; seemed that whatever was going on down below had frighted them clear on outta their homes.

"Vic," he said, hitting the comm, "Ya might oughta strap down, back there, Son. Conditions is about ta get a mite rough, looks like."

"I… yeah… yessir. Just, something's happened to Scott. He's in real trouble."

Still nosing the prototype downward through swirling dark water, Lee caught his breath in a sharp grunt. He knew that the boys were close to each other, but never considered no psychic contact; thought maybe Spence' d gotten a quick SOS off, using a hand-rigged comm, or something. Anyhow, didn't question Vic's insight. No time. Referring to trouble, he remarked,

"Lotta that goin' around, lately. Them folks in Pacifica City needs our help, too… but I'll send a line up t' Base, an' see whut I c'n find out, f'r ya."

After a moment, the younger pilot said,

"Yessir. Thank you, Sir."

…but it sounded like them words cost him plenty to get out. Taylor got through to Island Base just as the submarine city came into view; supported by wavery floats and outlined in shimmering red; the trench a black, yawning gulf right beside it.

Off to the west and rising… moving ten, maybe twelve yards a minute… was some species of "winder" or hole. Them flashing lights seemed to be coming from in there, some kinda way. Vic was right, Lee decided. A portal had opened up near the city. Blew thoughts of ol' Spencer dang near outta his head.

"Island Base, it's me again… Got a situation down here. I'm guessin' that transport contraption's gone clear off th' rails… an' Vic says he got a message from Spence. Says he needs help."

Calm as could be, after a few long relay seconds, Beth come back with,

"Understood, Thunderbird P. I'll get Brains ta find an' trace that message. You boys do whatcha got to, an' come back safe. Need some specs on th' transport malfunction, too. Anythin' you c'n send me."

Taylor nodded, dove perilously close to Pacifica City, and began scanning pictures for relay. Weirdest thing he ever saw that wasn't in space nor on Mars. Just a big, drifting hole with a clear, starry night on t' other side, outlined in crackling energy. Question was, where'd it fetch up at? Which stars? Whose night?

Had Godfrey and Chase plunged through that winder? If so, there wasn't room for the hulking Prototype to follow them. Hole was too small, and… and sorta spinning, like a "bet me, heads or tails" coin on a bar-top. He'd 've got through with less than half a Bird if'n he'd tried… but Lord, didn't adventure pull at him.

Only the presence of young Victor and all of them trapped people kept Lee's gloved hand off the throttle. Man had to take care of business, afore he went haring off after wonders. Sent up his scanned images, then said,

"Looks like that winder's movin' away from Pacifica City, Beth. Think I'm clear t' begin hook-up, with th' divin' bell. Me and Vic's gonna ride it on down, whilst Mike an' his boys mind th' store. Lookin' forward ta supper, Pretty Lady."

"Better make it quick then, 'cause I ain't settin' down ta eat till y're safe, both o' ya."

Lee smiled, making his greyish-brown mustache bristle.

"Back 'fore ya know I'm gone, Beth." (Which didn't make no sense a-tall, but got a laugh outta the prettiest woman he'd ever known. She'd hit him like a runaway truck, even back when Jeffrey 'd introduced them; back when she was hitched up to a man too fine to think about robbing.)

Half-laughing, Beth said,

"I'm holdin' you to that, Lee Taylor. Jus' bring y'rself an' everyone else back safe. Island Base, out."

And then, it was time to get busy.