"Global Defense Force, this is International Rescue, requesting assistance. International Rescue to Global Defense Force, Thunderbird 1 has suffered mechanical difficulties and is stranded." Scott rattled off the coordinates of his current position, peering out the front window of the cockpit at the unwelcoming glacier outside. "I've been cut off from the rest of International Rescue and I require immediate assistance."
Scott repeated the message a few more times, hoping. No answer was forthcoming.
After waiting for almost half an hour, repeating the hail periodically, he climbed out of his seat and began to rummage through his supplies for the winter weather emergency gear. Brains had designed all of their suits to be insulated against the cold, but Scott snagged a few chemical warming packs for his hands and feet anyway, not sure how long he might be spending outside. Then he put on his helmet, braced himself, and left the warm safety of his ship for the barren, icy expanse of the Antarctic glacier. He stomped around to one of the access panels on the belly of Thunderbird 1 and retracted it to give himself access to its electronics.
"My, my, what's this? Surely the mighty International Rescue hasn't suffered something so mundane as a breakdown."
Scott tensed automatically at the voice that shouldn't have been so familiar, even warped as it was by a loudspeaker. Then he turned to squint up at the ship looming overhead. It was smaller than the one that was currently in pieces on the ocean floor around Tracy Island, but it had clearly still been designed to look impressive and intimidating.
"Your precious GDF isn't coming, I'm afraid," the Hood said. Scott could just make out his smug face through the windscreen of the ship's bridge as the ship drew closer. "I cracked that channel you were broadcasting on weeks ago. No one heard your pathetic cry for help except me."
"And let me guess," Scott shouted. "Your help comes with a Thunderbird-sized price tag?"
The Hood cackled; an ugly, nasal sound that mingled with the howl of wind over the barren expanse of ice.
"My help doesn't come at all, you fool," he said. "But because we're such old acquaintances, I'll let you have a quick death, rather than leaving you to freeze when I take your ship."
Scott heard the hum of plasma cannons charging, and he watched two unnecessarily large gun turrets swinging towards him. He grit his teeth, his heart rate spiking. Was this what John had felt, in that split second of warning before the explosion?
There was a faint whistling sound that almost got lost in the roar of engines and wind, and then the Hood's ship shuddered. The engine noise cut out with an unhealthy sputter, and the cannons drooped from their aim at Scott. The ship began to plummet towards the ice, landing seconds later with a booming thud that sent shockwaves rippling through the glacier.
Scott just looked at the fallen behemoth for a moment, before turning back to Thunderbird 1.
"You cut that a little close," he remarked.
"I had to wait until he was close enough to the ground to survive the crash." The reply came from above Scott, where Virgil was clambering out of an access hatch atop Thunderbird 1.
Virgil slid down the side of the silver rocket and dropped to the ice beside Scott. The two of them set off at a run for the fallen ship.
It had been Scott's idea to lure in the Hood with a false distress signal. The man had been after their technology since the beginning of International Rescue, so it stood to reason that he would jump at the apparent chance to snatch a disabled Thunderbird. Virgil had been behind the EMP cannon that took out the ship though. He'd apparently drawn inspiration from a situation he'd dealt with the year before, a terrorist attack in London. Once the two of them had their plan in place, it just became a matter of picking the location and setting the trap.
Now, Scott and Virgil climbed up the front of the Hood's disabled ship, making use of the magnet technology that Brains had taken to installing in their suits. As they neared the outside of the bridge, they could hear the faint sound of cursing as the Hood evidently struggled to get out of his safety restraints. Once they reached the windscreen, now spiderwebbed with cracks from impact, Scott hung back a little while Virgil made short work of the rest of the glass. Then they both climbed into the cramped bridge.
The Hood had finally managed to get free of his seat, and he was heading for some kind of panel set in the wall. The sight of him, this man who had stolen so much from the Tracys, sent a wave of rage crashing through Scott. He'd thought to do this calmly, methodically, but that didn't feel like an option just then.
He charged across the cramped space and threw himself at the Hood, tackling him to the ground. They tussled, but Scott was the younger and stronger of the two, with military training to boot, and it wasn't long before he had the Hood pinned to the floor. He swung a fist into the man's hateful face, his blood boiling.
"Where is he, you slimy bastard?" he cried.
Virgil caught his hand before he could swing again, but didn't try to pull him away. Despite being thoroughly trapped, the Hood still tried to give them both disdainful looks.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said.
"Stelair Aeronautics," Virgil said. "Is owned by so many shell corporations, you probably thought we wouldn't be able to trace it, didn't you? But you didn't count on our resources. We found your fingerprints eventually."
The resources in question had really just been Eos, devoting her impressive computing power to finding whoever was behind Stelair. And while she still hadn't been able to find anything conclusive, some of the shell corporations had also been used in schemes involving the Hood. It was a tenuous connection, not enough to take to the GDF, but Scott and Virgil hadn't needed anything else.
The Hood frowned, looking back and forth between them.
"So?" he asked belligerently. "I'm a wealthy man; I have ties to many industries."
"So a Stelair satellite mounted an attack on International Rescue, possibly capturing one of our own, and you're behind it."
"And we want to know what you did with our brother," Scott added.
The Hood stared at them for a long moment. His eyes widened slightly and an ugly look crossed his face, but then he forced a cruel smile.
"I'm afraid I still have no idea what you're talking about," he said. "If one of you was taken, I assure you, I had nothing to do with it."
"You lying-" Virgil squeezed Scott's shoulder to cut off the angry tirade.
"Just tell us, Hood," he said, suppressed tension in his voice. "Is he still alive?"
The Hood sat up a little, propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes bore into theirs.
"Get this through your thick skulls," he said slowly. "The last time I successfully eliminated one of you miserable lot, it was your father. If something's happened to another one of you, it's not my doing." He studied them. "You said it was a satellite. Does that mean it was that insufferable child who bought it?"
Virgil's fingers tightened on Scott's shoulder, and Scott shot an uncertain glance up at him. The Hood thought it was Alan who had been involved? His relish at the thought seemed genuine. But wouldn't that mean…
"Oh, so perhaps not the brat," the Hood said, noticing their hesitation. "The other astronaut, then? That self-righteous little prick who watches and judges the rest of us from his space station?" He saw in their faces that he'd guessed right this time. "My, my, that is troublesome. By my understanding, that one was rather critical to your whole operation."
Scott said nothing, his stomach clenching. He didn't trust the Hood as far as he could throw Thunderbird 1, but his instincts were telling him that the man was being sincere. But he had to keep trying, because if the Hood wasn't responsible, then they had nothing.
"Do you want a ransom?" he asked, hearing the desperation that leaked into his tone. "Is that it? Or did you take him to cripple us?"
The Hood scowled.
"Are you hearing impaired?" he asked. "I. Did. Not. Take. Your. Brother. Don't you think I'd be using him as a bargaining chip right now if I had?" His expression turned thoughtful. "I don't suppose this satellite would be the same one that suffered an unfortunate accident last week?"
Scott couldn't suppress his wince, and a predatory light sparked in the Hood's eyes.
"That was quite a nasty explosion, if the news reports are to be believed. Are you certain that your brother has been taken, and not simply blown to smithereens?"
"Shut up," Virgil snapped before Scott could say something harsher.
Scott looked up at him again. He could see his own uneasiness mirrored in his brother's face.
"Oh dear," the Hood said with a cruel smile. "It appears as though your little astronaut is dead. My condolences. I'll have some flowers shipped to that ridiculous island of yours."
"I don't think so," Scott snarled. "Even if you didn't have anything to do with what happened to John, you're still a criminal and a fugitive. We'll call the GDF to come pick you up, and you'll be going right back to that prison cell."
"Because it held me so well the first time?" the Hood asked tauntingly as Virgil stepped away to put in the call. "Well, as entertaining as it would be to prove to you and the GDF again that you're incapable of holding me, I simply don't have the time. So I'm afraid I'll have to cut this lovely little chat short."
In a sudden display of strength and agility that really shouldn't have been so surprising, given whom he was related to, the Hood twisted himself free of Scott's hold and slammed his hand down onto a button in the panel behind him. Scott had been so focused on the interrogation that he hadn't noticed the faint hum of the ship's systems coming back online, recovered from the hastily-assembled EMP. He hauled the Hood away from the panel, but it was too late.
A compartment in the ceiling slid open, and a dense grey swarm billowed out, splitting into two streams that darted towards Scott and Virgil. Scott let go of the Hood and raised his hands protectively just as his cloud reached him.
It turned out to be a seething mass of tiny mechanical bee-like creatures, no doubt a product of the Hood's partnership with the Mechanic. Some of them clicked harmlessly against his helmet, but the rest swarmed over his suit, driving their stingers into the thick material and leaving sharp metal barbs behind. Scott waved his arms, trying to fend them off, but it was useless. Within moments, dozens of stings were peppering his body, each one seeming to carry with it a small but painful electrical charge. He suspected it wouldn't be long before he was overwhelmed and paralyzed.
Scott heard a cry of surprise, and he looked to see Virgil toppling backwards through the opening left by the shattered glass of the windscreen. Scott dove after his brother, managing to grab him by the utility belt, but Virgil's weight and momentum proved to be too much, and they both went tumbling from the ship.
They landed hard on the ice, and every cc of air promptly evacuated Scott's lungs. He wheezed, spots of light and dark warring in his vision. His whole body ached and stung, but he was pretty sure the bees were leaving them alone now. He blinked, wondering if this might be a good time for a nap. It certainly seemed like it, all the sudden.
"Scott, get up, get up, get up!"
Virgil was tugging at him insistently, so Scott reluctantly scrambled to his feet to see what was so urgent. It didn't take him long to figure it out. The Hood had armed his plasma cannons again, but he wasn't pointing them at the two brothers.
A high-pitched whine was followed by an echoing boom, and then the ice was cracking twenty meters in front of Scott and Virgil. This wouldn't have been a particularly significant issue, if not for the fact that twenty meters behind them was the edge of the glacier.
Scott exchanged a wordless look with Virgil, and then the two of them began to sprint towards the rapidly widening crack. But then the Hood fired another blast, and Scott was knocked off his feet by the concussive force. He tried to stand, but then the ice began to tilt beneath him, shearing away from the larger mass.
He yelled, throwing himself at Virgil, trying to get them to solid ground. But they'd always been too far away to make it, and Scott wasn't wearing his jetpack. The best he could do was cling tightly to his brother as they began to slide down the surface of the falling ice. He fumbled for his grappling hook with one hand and launched it just as he and Virgil went flying over the edge and into free-fall towards the dark, roiling sea below.
The hook anchored itself in the ice, and the brothers were jerked sharply as the line took their weight. But then the ice splintered, and the hook burst free in an explosion of glittering white shards. The surface of the water was coming up quickly now, and Scott understood physics too well to think they had a chance of surviving impact.
Oh. Oh no. No no no no no they couldn't do this to Alan and Gordon.
Virgil was shouting something, but Scott couldn't hear him over the sound of the wind and his own pulse pounding in his ears. Scott clutched him close and tried to orient them as they fell, so that he was below his brother. Maybe if he struck the surface first, Virgil would have a better chance-
They slammed into something hard, and sparks exploded in Scott's vision as the breath was punched out of him for the second time in as many minutes. They rolled once, limbs tangling together, knees digging into kidneys, elbows striking jaws, before fetching up against something. But they were still moving somehow, the wind screaming around them, although it didn't feel like falling anymore. And…Scott blinked and looked sideways to see Virgil grimacing beside him. Yep, and they definitely weren't dead.
By the time he'd collected himself enough to lift his head, they were no longer moving. He loosened his grip on Virgil and sat up, removing his helmet, which was now webbed with cracks. The movement brought him face to face with Kayo, who was glaring at him through the glass over Thunderbird Shadow's cockpit.
"Uh oh," he heard Virgil say beside him.
Kayo popped the cockpit open.
"Are you two all right?" she asked.
"Thanks to you," Scott told her. He glanced over at Virgil, blinking as he got a good look at him. "Uh…"
"I'm fine too," Virgil dismissed, despite the fact that unlike Scott, he hadn't been wearing a helmet during the attack of the killer robo-bees, and it…showed.
"Good," Kayo said shortly. "So there should be nothing stopping you from telling me why I just had to save your lives from the Hood?"
The reminder of their nemesis had Scott craning his neck to search the skies. The Hood's ship was already a shrinking dot disappearing into the horizon.
"He's gone," Kayo informed them, her voice almost as chilly as the air around them. "It was between chasing him and saving you two from falling to your deaths."
"How did you find us in the first place?" Scott asked.
It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Kayo's eyes flashed dangerously.
"You mean after I realized you'd lied to me about going to visit Lady Penelope?" she demanded. "Brains picked up your distress call on some of his old equipment. I wondered why you weren't calling us, but I figured there must've been some kind of explanation for it. Maybe your equipment was damaged, and you could only get signals to receivers outside of our system, or maybe Eos was acting up like she did when she was first created. You see, it hadn't crossed my mind by then that you didn't want us to hear you. So I went to find Virgil so he could take Thunderbird 2 to come help you."
Scott shrank under the weight of Kayo's hard gaze.
It had been by mutual agreement that he and Virgil had decided to keep their mission to themselves, at least until they had more to go on. Scott had been surprised by how readily Virgil acquiesced, but then he'd remembered how devastated his brother had been by having his hopes crushed multiple times already. Virgil's protective instincts ran deep, and he'd wanted to spare the rest of their family from the same kind of suffering in case history repeated itself. Besides, if John really had been taken by unknown hostile forces, then trying to find him might prove to be a dangerous endeavor.
Somehow, Scott didn't think Kayo would appreciate their reasoning.
"I think we can all guess about how well that went," she was saying. "So I came out here myself to check on you, and I called the GDF on the way. They said they'd never gotten a signal from you, because the channel you were broadcasting over has been obsolete and out of service for over a year. So I suppose I shouldn't even have been surprised when I arrived to see the Hood's ship flying over the perfectly intact Thunderbird 1."
At the reminder of Thunderbird 1, Scott quickly glanced over to check on his ship. It had been far enough away from the edge to survive the crumbling ice, and apparently the Hood had decided to run rather than trying to steal it with his niece on the scene.
"You two are unbelievably lucky that I spotted you before you fell, or I never would've caught you in time," Kayo went on, the anger in her voice more a thin cover for her residual fear than true ire. "And that you were falling together, or I only would've been able to save one of you. Can you imagine that, me having to decide which one of you to save? Which one of you I'd have to take back home to tell your family that they'd lost another member? And for what? Revenge? Do you really think-?"
"Not revenge." Vigil's voice, though quiet, stopped Kayo mid-tirade. She frowned at him.
"What do you mean, 'not revenge?'"
Virgil met Scott's eyes, seeking agreement but not permission. He'd already decided to tell her the truth. And looking at the young woman who had become a sister to him, Scott knew that it was the right call. He nodded.
"Scott and I have been working under the assumption that the satellite accident wasn't an accident, and that someone used it as a trap for John. A trap meant to take him alive, not to kill him."
Whatever Kayo had been expecting, it wasn't that. She stared at them both, momentarily speechless.
"You think John is still alive?"
"It was a possibility we had to check into," Scott said. "But we don't have much evidence to go on, other than the fact that we haven't been able to find his body, and the explosion may have been sabotage by a company that doesn't exist. So we had to work off of whatever leads we could find."
"And that lead you to the Hood," said Kayo.
Scott nodded, and Kayo's scowl returned.
"Alan told me you two had taken it upon yourselves to be the family custodians," she said. "I suppose I just foolishly thought you wouldn't go out on your own on dangerous missions without even telling the person responsible for keeping you safe."
"Kayo-" Virgil tried.
"Don't start with me, Virgil Tracy," she said warningly, extending a finger towards him. "I might expect this kind of thing from Scott, but from you? I thought you understood the importance of being open with your family."
Scott wasn't sure he knew or liked what that was supposed to mean.
"We were trying to keep the rest of you safe-"
"That's my job!" Kayo cried, tossing her hands in the air. "Literally! Especially when it's my uncle you're going tearing after, with no plan and less backup. Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"
"Of course not Kayo, but-"
"No buts, Scott! Either you trust me or-"
"You're right," Virgil cut in. "Okay, Kayo? You're right, we should've told you. It wasn't that we didn't trust you, it was that we didn't want…we didn't want you getting hurt again."
Hurt like this, for example. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the brutal disappointment was setting in. Kayo seemed to sense their upset, and her anger diminished. She looked back and forth between them.
"What did the Hood say?" she asked, softly now, as if she knew the answer wasn't going to be good news.
"That he had nothing to do with what happened to John," Scott said.
"And you believe him?"
"I'm not saying that he wouldn't have done something like this, I just don't think he did this time. He wouldn't have been able to resist gloating about it."
"So what does that mean for John? Do you…" Kayo hesitated. "Boys, do you really think there's a chance? Or are you just letting yourselves believe that?"
Scott exchanged a look with Virgil. His brother's eyes were shadowed, his expression grim. They'd both seen the Hood as their most promising lead. But there were so many signs that something was off. That couldn't be meaningless, could it?
"Well, you'd better figure it out, because Alan and Gordon are on their way," Kayo told them when neither said anything.
"Wait, what?" Scott exclaimed, turning back to her in a hurry. "I thought you came alone!"
"Did I mention that we intercepted your distress call?" Kayo demanded, some of her previous irritation returning. "When we couldn't find Virgil, we assumed he was out in the jungle somewhere taking time to himself, so Alan and Gordon took Thunderbird 2 out in his place. We thought you were in trouble, Scott, we weren't gonna wait! Not after-"
She cut herself off and looked away. Most of her anger had faded, but that was almost worse. Scott's gut turned to lead at the thought of his little brothers scared out of their minds that something had happened to him like it had to John, that they wouldn't be fast enough to save him either.
"I got here first because Thunderbird Shadow is faster than Thunderbird 2, but we left at the same time. They'll be here any minute, and you'll owe them an explanation."
"We'll give it to them," Virgil said at once.
He shot Scott a meaningful look, but Scott didn't need to be convinced. Kayo was right; they owed their brothers the truth. Scott just hoped it wouldn't be what finally destroyed them.
Alan's heart was in his throat for the entire flight to Antarctica. He couldn't get the sound of Scott's distress call out of his head, and concern for his big brother had his insides in a cold vice.
"What was he even doing out here in the first place?" he asked Gordon, whose knuckles were white on Thunderbird 2's controls. It wasn't the first time he'd raised the question. "It's not like we're running rescues."
"You know everything I do," Gordon replied tightly, not looking away from the vast shelf of ice looming on the horizon.
"But why wouldn't he at least tell us he was going out? And where-?"
"I don't know, Alan!" Gordon snapped. "And I don't know why you think I would. I seem to be the last to know anything, lately."
Alan turned away, folding his arms over his stomach. Gordon's usual good humor had been a wavering shadow of its former self recently, but the threat to Scott seemed to have extinguished it entirely. Alan could relate, but that didn't mean he appreciated getting yelled at.
God, what kind of teenager had to deal with this kind of thing? How many other sixteen-year-old boys had to drop everything and race to goddamn Antarctica because they were afraid of losing another brother? How many had to fit schoolwork between dangerous missions to deep space or other planets or the depths of the earth because strangers would literally die if they didn't? How many had personally stared down multiple bombs, one of which had been deliberately set for them?
It had all seemed so exciting, once. Alan had pitied those other kids, the ones who spent all day cooped up in classrooms and would never get to fly spaceships or know what it was like to save another person's life. But that had been before.
"Boys, it's me."
Alan looked at once to the projection that had appeared over Thunderbird 2's console. There was something odd about Kayo's face, but she didn't look scared or worried, and something inside him relaxed. She wouldn't look like that if something had happened to Scott.
"Did you find him?" Gordon asked her.
"Yeah, and he's fine. Virgil's with him."
"Virgil?"
"Virgil." Annoyance flickered across Kayo's features. "I'll let them explain when you get here."
"Won't be much longer," Gordon said. "We can see you guys now."
Alan sat up straighter and peered out the windshield. Sure enough, Thunderbird 1 was visible, standing out sharply against the gleaming backdrop of the glacier. If he squinted, he could make out the three figures standing beside it and Thunderbird Shadow. Just beyond them, the shelf of ice dropped off sharply, a few chunks still occasionally breaking off to plunge into the frothing sea below.
"Just pick me up," Virgil said. "We should have this conversation somewhere a little more stable."
So Gordon landed them carefully, and then tried to cede the pilot's seat to a shivering Virgil once he was back on board.
"Actually, I'm gonna need you to keep flying for a while," Virgil told him. "My suit's been compromised, and I need to change."
Alan looked more closely at him, but it wasn't his brother's suit that caught his attention.
"What happened to your face?" he demanded in horror.
Virgil grimaced and raised a hand to his cheek. His skin had been punctured by what looked like two dozen tiny metal barbs, producing an effect that made it look like he was literally sweating blood. More blood was dripping from his hair and down his neck, staining his collar.
"A very creative security system," he said. "Nothing a pair of tweezers won't fix."
He retreated toward the back of the cockpit, where the shower and tiny medical area were housed. Alan stared after him for a beat, and then hurried to unbuckle himself and follow.
"You don't think you're digging all of those out yourself, do you?" he asked, snatching the medical kit from its spot before Virgil could try to grab it.
Virgil opened his mouth, and then closed it again with a sigh.
"Just give me a minute," he said. "There are more of these things stuck in my uniform, and if I sit down, this day is only gonna get worse."
So Alan stood by while his brother changed into a fresh suit, wincing as some of the barbs embedded in his old one tugged free of his skin. And then he sat, tilting his face up to provide access with the tweezers. One by one, Alan began to carefully remove each tiny metal shard, before swabbing the wounds with antiseptic and a cream that would promote skin repair.
Despite being the son of a doctor, he'd never much cared for medicine. It wasn't nearly as interesting as rockets and outer space. Still, for the first time since they'd lost John, he felt useful, like he was actually helping his family. It may have been a small thing, but it was something.
"You're lucky none of these things ended up in your eyes," he told Virgil as he moved on to the barbs in his brother's scalp. "I'm not sure you could pull off an eyepatch."
"Yeah, if anyone in this family gets to look like a pirate, it's me," Gordon called from the pilot seat, his spirits evidently improved somewhat by finding the others safe. "You okay back there?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Virgil called back, but he seemed distracted.
Even once Alan had removed all of the barbs and Virgil had finally reclaimed control of his Thunderbird, he seemed reluctant to look at either of his brothers as he checked his various gauges and instruments. It was an uncomfortable flight back to Tracy Island, and Alan wasn't entirely sure why. He shot a glance back at Gordon, but his brother just shrugged, evidently as nonplussed as he was. When they were all gathered in the main room with Grandma and Brains though, things became pretty clear.
"You're telling me you think John might still be alive, and you didn't say anything?" Gordon demanded once Scott had gotten most of the way through the explanation. He leapt to his feet, but had nowhere to go. With a face built for a mischievous smile, the hurt and anger that consumed his expression now looked wrong and out of place.
The argument that followed was loud and intense, but Alan barely heard any of it.
Could John really still be alive? Alan had been the first to suggest it, even in the moments after the explosion, but since then, every scrap of evidence had been to the contrary. His dreams had been haunted, not by visions of the explosion and its aftermath, but by the illusion that he'd gotten there in time, that he'd saved his brother, only to wake up and find that his greatest failure still weighed on him. It had become more painful to remain in denial.
But now…Could it be possible?
"Did you know about this?" Gordon was asking Brains. The engineer looked profoundly uncomfortable.
"Well…yes," he admitted. "I w-was the one who found the inconsistencies with the debris. But I d-d-didn't know that Scott and Virgil would be going after the Hood without b-backup."
Because that was what they'd done, wasn't it? Not only had they kept their suspicions to themselves, they'd also put themselves at risk to follow up on a dangerous lead that their brothers could have helped with. It had been bad enough that they'd taken Alan's ship without asking to look for John's body, but he'd been able to look past that. But now they'd shut him out of the opportunity to actually save John, could've gotten themselves killed because of it, and that…that was unacceptable.
It had started slowly, but now Alan's hurt and frustration were boiling to the surface, fueled by a lifetime of being sidelined and overprotected. He surged to his feet as well.
"I'm sick of you guys treating me like I'm weaker than you!" he shouted. "Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm stupid, or useless! We all lost John, and I have just as much right as any of you to try to get him back!"
"Nobody thinks you're stupid, Alan," Virgil said, in that infuriatingly calm voice of his.
"Then ACT LIKE IT!" Alan yelled, tears of anger and frustration starting to well in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them back furiously, hating them for undermining his point.
"All right, sweetheart." Grandma Tracy had been quiet up until that point, but now she rose and circled to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. She looked out at the rest of her grandsons, focusing on Scott and Virgil. "I understand you two thought you were doing the right thing, and I can't say it wasn't something your father would've done. But we are a family, and we need to act like one, now more than ever. We need to trust each other, or we'll never get through this. All right?"
She met each of their gazes individually. Alan was still angry, and Gordon didn't look too thrilled either, but he could appreciate what Grandma had said. They all nodded.
"Now, let's not lose sight of what's most important here." She squeezed Alan's shoulders, and smiled at the rest of them. "Let's get our starman back."