AN: My apologies on being so tardy with updates... it has been so hectic, I have diplomas then life got in the way and school and... yah for those of you who have stayed with me, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds, the Tracys, any of it. I only own the story line.

Previously…

"How long will he need to take this off the cuff medication?" Turner asked while Virgil administered The Hoods third dose.

"I would try about twenty to thirty days, then test him again for radiation levels. If you want you can get Prussian Blue pills by a doctor's prescription." By now Virgil didn't care that he was helping The Hood. He just wanted out as fast as possible.

"Well you can test him again when he wakes up and see if it is actually working."

"Whatever," Virgil mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"I said hopefully. I am not sure if these first treatments will work, but after this I will knock off the sedative medication so he can wake up and take it orally. He will have to take about three-five doses a day of 500mg and the IV has to be moved closer to his neck so it can start absorbing the toxins earlier on the path through his body." Turner just stood there. Arms crossed. Like he said, he didn't care.

(New Chapter)

"What has happened here?" Scott said as he and Alan reached the second mission site. They were on a small airbase just off Greenland. The base wasn't used much so it didn't have much for equipment, so when a plane's landing gear failed on approach the base had no means of helping.

"One of the planes that is trying to land here has a problem with their landing gear and we have no way of helping them. They also have been circling for an hour and are running out of fuel."

"Got it. What we'll do is I will take Thunderbird 1 attach the grapple to the wings of the plane, the pilot can kill the engine and I'll lower the plane to the ground."

"Just like what Virgil did with Fireflash, but a little different," Alan exclaimed.

"FAB I'll be right back, Alan you stay with…"

"James."

"Thank you, you stay here with James and help out."

"FAB, good luck Scott." After a quick acknowledgment over his shoulder Scott continued to run towards his Thunderbird. "So what do you guys normally do with situations like this, if someone isn't around to help?"

"Well," James began, "we usually have a team of two pilots come together so one usually releases the landing gear manually. But this pilot is flying solo, so we had to call someone with some heavy lifting equipment."

"What will you do after the plane lands?"

"We have our mechanics team diagnose the problem, fix it, check the ship's black box just to make sure nothing else is askew , then we send the plane back on its merry way."

"Wait, you check the black box, for what exactly?"

"Flight data kid. Internal and external communications, data log, flight log, all sorts of things. You are part of an elite rescue team, should you not know this?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just … would you excuse me?" With that last curious thought Alan ran so he was out of hearing range from James. "John, do you read?"

"Yes Alan I hear you, everything alright? How's the mission going?" John replied from Brains' lab.

"Yeah, yeah the first mission went fine, now we are at an airfield helping a plane land, anyway when Scott and I went through Virgil's ship… did we take his black box?"

"From what I remember no, you took the black box he retrieved from the wreck site, but not actually his."

"Got it, Scott? Did you hear that?"

"Loud and clear little brother, once we are done here we will go back to the crash site retrieve Virgil's black box and bring it back to the ranch."

*At the Island* Brains was still in the lab with Gordon while John had come up to talk to Scott and Alan about his findings on Thunderbird 2's black box.

"Alright John, what do you have for us?"

"Well I have the fact that out of all the parts we recovered from Thunderbird 2, the actual black box from Virgil's ship, was not one of them. Aside from that I have the last internal recordings, it is a little broken up but, you can still make out a large sum of it."

"Alan, do you want to hear this?" Alan stared blankly between his brothers before looking at Scott and simply nodding. "Play it John."

"Thunderbird 2 to Tracy Island, John?"

"John, Scott, Gordon, come in."

"Preparing for crash landing." For what seemed like forever all the boys heard was crashing and the sounds of Thunderbird 2 plummeting into the ground below. The sounds of Virgil as he got tossed around the cockpit.

"I have to, ah," the boys heard sounds of pain over the radio. Alan ducked his head and started breathing deeply while Scott and John exchanged glances.

"I have to get away…" All of the sudden a weird sound was heard over the transmission.

"Was that something ripping?" John asked.

"I'm more curious as to what he had to get away from," Scott crossed his arms and began pacing. "Wait! Remember when we went to look at the crash site, there was a hole in Thunderbird 2's hull. I think what we were hearing was the tearing of metal."

"That means someone was in Virgil's ship, the lights that the witness saw, someone shot Virgil down."

"I'm calling Colonel Casey, I have a hunch that the one person who is bent on destroying International Rescue is behind this." Scott said as he went over to his father's desk.

"The Hood," Alan finished.

After a short conversation with the Colonel, Scott agreed that the plan would be to search into ship of the design and description that the eyewitness gave. Virgil was on that ship, or at least was taken by the ship and if they found it, they could find him.

Except, as brilliant and as easy as that plan seemed, it wasn't. No registered ship had that description, and there was no footage of the ship anywhere, even at the time of the crash. The ship could be cloaked. It had been four days since Scott and the Colonel had devised this plan and nothing but more questions had risen to light.

"So this is his fifteenth dose of Prussian Blue, I'll test his levels then I can reevaluate. I have shown you how to administer the medication so he should be…" Virgil glanced at The Hood, "good to go in a couple of weeks if it is working." Virgil grabbed the survey meter and began scanning The Hood. "It looks like the radiation is moving through his intestines, which means it is getting ready to leave his body. It means it is working." Virgil was almost excited, but given his present company, he remembered he wasn't really happy.

"Good. Hood? How do you feel?"

"I feel great my boy, I mean as great as a man almost destroyed by his own plan can be. Thank you Virgil. Now Turner, I believed you promised to let this young man go, and I am a man of my word."

"Yes sir. Please meet me by the door so he doesn't try anything." Turner gestured to the door and suddenly Virgil felt very relieved. He would soon be going back to his family. He could help Gordon and everything would be ok again.

"Well Virgil," suddenly the mood shifted, the man with the deep British voice was getting closer, not looking very friendly. Virgil began to back up, startled when Turner took what appeared to be a cattle prod and stuck it into Virgil's side, dropping him to the floor like a brick. Virgil was too weak, too tired to fight back as Turner repetitively kicked his ribs, beat on his chest, hitting his already injured leg. Turner grabbed Virgil by the front of the shirt and began pounding on his face. Blood began to seep out of his nose and mouth. The man dropped him to the floor again and before leaving he made sure to put a knee on Virgil's chest and lean on it. Putting all his weight into one compressed spot on Virgil's chest. All of the man's weight on his broken ribs, restricting his breathing even more.

"I did say I was going to let you go, but I didn't specify in what condition. Have a pleasant time dying. Say hello to your father for me, and your mother."

Virgil closed his eyes as they began to water, not from tears but from sheer pain. He coughed up some blood and sat up tentatively, spitting it onto the floor near him. Part of it was to get rid of the blood, part of it was morale to spite the man who just brought up his parents and family in such a cynical matter. It was hard to breathe. Hard to see.

Turner took that as an invitation and knocked Virgil onto his back ruthlessly. Virgil was unconscious now, lying on the ground with four broken ribs and who knows what else. As the two men went to leave, they locked the door, leaving Virgil in complete darkness. Even if Virgil picked the lock, he was too weak to open the heavy metal door, and climb up the ladder to freedom.