Thank you so much for the response to the last chapter - for the sympathy over poor Jake, as well as the feedback on the story. It's been a chaotic week, with things breaking, falling down and generally not going according to plan, but at least I've got a chapter to post. Whirlgirl, thank you so much. There might be an answer or two in this chapter - or maybe just a few more questions...
Chapter Four
Far away on Tracy Island, Grandma wiped a tear from her eye as the newly joined husband and wife shared their first kiss. She'd never been convinced that Penelope was doing the right thing in marrying Simon, but even so, a wedding was a wedding and these things always made her emotional. Such a shame things hadn't worked out with Scott, she thought. He'd have cut a far more imposing figure at the altar than Lord Warrington-Farr had.
For a moment she let herself imagine what it would have been like to watch her own grandson marry into the English aristocracy, to greet princes, lords and ladies with smug pride... Not that she was lacking in any pride right now, that was for sure. Virgil had played magnificently and she'd wished for a moment that she'd accepted Penny's invitation so that she could have witnessed his performance in person rather than at second-hand via the hidden cameras. She'd wanted to be at home, though, keen to support Alan at a time that was bound to bring back memories of Tin-Tin and all the things the girl had hoped for but was fated never to experience. It had been something of a surprise when her youngest grandson had insisted on heading up to Thunderbird Five and she'd done her best to talk him out of it, but to no avail. She'd already put in several calls to him that day, just waiting for him to crack, but he'd continued to insist that he was fine, informing her as he set up the transmission from the Abbey that he wasn't even going to watch it, instead planning to occupy himself in some routine maintenance. She didn't have to worry about him, he'd said.
She did worry, of course, but there was nothing she could do, and so she'd settled down to watch the wedding. She'd hoped John and Gordon might keep her company, out of curiosity if nothing else, but the pair, along with Brains, had set off for Australia a couple of hours earlier on a rescue mission which, it seemed, was going to take some time. So she'd watched alone, sipping the sherry Kyrano had brought her - a gift from Penny on her last, fateful visit - and enjoying every moment. The clothes, those hats...
When Virgil got up to play again, she smiled. It had come as no surprise to hear from Jeff that her grandson had picked up a few admirers. He was such a handsome boy. How could any girl resist? So talented, too. She might have listened to all these pieces numerous times over the past few weeks as he'd practised, but to hear the familiar notes resonating around Westminster Abbey of all places... She'd enjoyed telling her friends back in Kansas all about it, thankful that for once she was able to boast about one of her grandsons' achievements instead of having to keep everything a secret. Membership of International Rescue could be as much of a burden as it was an honour at times.
When Virgil crumpled to the floor she blinked in confusion for a moment, unable to take in what she was seeing. Then, at the realisation that something terrible was happening, not just to Virgil , but to Jeff - to everyone - she called for Kyrano, pulling herself to her feet as swiftly as she could and stumbling towards the desk where she stabbed at the controls for the vid-link with shaking hands. She was thinking clearly enough not to distract John, Gordon and Brains from their rescue, but there were others who needed to know without delay.
"Alan? Scott? Boys, talk to me."
"Grandma? What's wrong?"
"Are you okay?"
Alan and Scott's portraits flickered into life and she found herself looking into the puzzled faces of her two grandsons.
"The wedding... Virgil... I don't know what's happening. You have to see."
"What? Did he hit a wrong note?" Alan's irritation at the prospect of watching any part of the ceremony was clear, but Scott at least had registered that something was really wrong. As he rubbed an oily hand across his forehead, just adding to the smears that were already there, he ordered his younger brother to patch the transmission through.
"What's going on?" he asked, his bewilderment clear as he took in the scene. "Grandma?"
"I don't know. Everyone just collapsed."
"Some kind of attack?" Alan asked, his voice tight with worry now that he understood the situation. "Carbon monoxide or something?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Scott snapped. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He also couldn't believe that no one else had realised there was a problem. "Where the hell are the security guys? They can't all have been affected, not the ones outside, anyway."
But nothing happened for several seconds. Then all three watchers heaved a collective sigh of relief.
"Parker's waking up." Alan slumped back in his seat, still terrified for his brothers and friends, but confident now that even if they didn't soon join Parker in the land of the living, at least they'd be taken care of.
They continued to watch as Parker stood up and moved along the pew, completely ignoring the slumped figure of Jeff Tracy. In his frustration, Alan muttered something which under any other circumstances would have earned him a dressing-down from Grandma, but the old lady stayed quiet. In fact, she was thinking the same thing, though it was couched in far more ladylike terms. In fairness to Parker, everyone knew that his main concern was always going to be Penny. Expecting him to go straight to her, they were surprised but, it had to be said, relieved, when instead he headed in Virgil's direction. But still he didn't stop, stepping carefully over the prone Tracy - and one of the girls from the string quartet who'd managed to land on top of him when she'd fallen - and moving towards a small door at the side of the altar, disappearing from view.
"What's he up to?" Alan asked.
"Guess he's gone to call security," Scott said. "Keep it together, guys, help will be there any minute."
But all that happened was that music began to resonate through the Abbey's PA system - a recording of the previous afternoon's rehearsal, to be exact, not that any of the listeners registered that fact.
"Oh, thank goodness, someone's there," Grandma said as several figures rushed into the Abbey.
"Yeah, but who?" Scott voiced all their thoughts as they got a proper look at the newcomers, all of whom wore workmen's clothing, gloves - and masks which completely hid their faces.
"I'll call the authorities," Alan said.
"No, wait!" The reappearance of Parker, the man apparently perfectly calm and composed, had Scott completely baffled. What was going on? The chauffeur didn't seem at all concerned that everyone else was unconscious - though why wasn't he, come to think of it? - simply watching impassively as the other men made their way over to a couple of the slumped figures, dragged them upright, slung them over their shoulders and moved back towards the door.
"What's going on?" Grandma asked, her voice shaking as she watched the Archbishop of Canterbury and the third-in-line to the British throne disappear. "Are they there to help? Why take them away? I don't understand."
"Me neither," Alan said. "Why is Parker just standing there? You'd think he'd be looking after Penny."
"It doesn't make any sense." They'd never heard Scott sound more confused. "Al, try to raise him."
"What do you think I've been doing? He's not responding. Hey, he's not wearing his communicator, that's why. It's outside in FAB One."
"I'm not sure they're there to help..." Grandma gripped her walking stick tightly. Jeff and Virgil hadn't stirred, and now another man had been taken away.
Then the men went over to the newlyweds. Penny and Simon were picked up and carried off just as the others had been, Parker finally moving, apparently in order to help carry Penny, only to be pushed away and instructed to get outside and start up the van. Without a word, he did as he was told.
"Scott?" It was inevitable that in any matter involving Lady Penelope, Alan would look to Scott for guidance.
It rarely happened, but right now, the oldest brother and Field Commander was at a total loss as to the best course of action. "I don't know," he admitted. Why hadn't any of the security details outside come in? he once again wondered. Then he realised the significance of the music. Anyone stationed outside would hear it and assume that everything was going according to plan. No one was coming, which meant they were the only people who knew there was a problem. But what were they to do about it?
"I could call it in," Alan said hesitantly. "But, you know, things might not be what they seem. It could be something to do with MI5. Penny might have planned this as part of some mission..."
"On her wedding day? Hardly. She's getting out of that game, anyway, remember?"
"She knew Virgil was filming the wedding," Grandma said. "She'd have warned us if this was planned. Call the police, Alan."
"Scott, what do you think?" Alan's hand hovered over the button which would link him to the authorities in London. "Maybe we should trust Parker. I mean, he's on our side - isn't he?"
It was certainly a dilemma.
"Just hold fire a minute," Scott instructed. "You're right. Parker wouldn't be part of anything bad, and he certainly wouldn't do anything that might hurt Penny. We have to trust him."
The masked men returned. The three watching Tracys silently willed them to stay away from the two helpless members of their family, but their prayers went unanswered and to their horror, it became clear that Jeff Tracy was to be the final target of the unknown men.
"Scott..." Both Alan and Grandma called out to him, but Scott had no comfort for them. What could he do, a thousand miles away? He might be in possession of the one craft in the world that could actually cover that distance in minutes, but right now One was broken and useless.
They didn't have a particularly good view of Jeff given the angle of the camera, so it came a shock when one of the men spoke, his voice muffled by the mask he wore.
"Hang on a minute. He doesn't look too good."
"Bad reaction to the gas," the second man said, joining him for a look. He straightened up and surveyed the rest of the guests. "There's a few of them in the same state by the look of it. What do you want to do? If he's one of the few that really responds badly to it then we're going to have a big problem on our hands."
"Police!" Scott snapped at Alan. Forget trusting Parker - they needed to act fast. If anything happened to his father...
"He was on the list," the first man said. "The Archbishop of Canterbury, Prince Louis, the MI5 guy and the happy couple. The Boss wanted Tracy because of his reputation - famous astronaut, big hero, you know the kind of thing. It's not just about the cash. But I suppose someone else would do. There are plenty of others here who'll bring in a good ransom."
"Suppose so. Which one?"
"Any of that lot." The first man indicated an area of seating a few rows away. "But hurry up - that gas is going to start wearing off in about ninety seconds."
Grandma let out a sigh of relief as the men moved away from her son. Jeff was going nowhere, but even so it wasn't good news, not if this gas had made him sick. But where were the police? They must have heard from Alan by now. Why on earth was it taking so long for help to arrive?
"Al, can you hack into the security cameras outside?" Scott asked as they watched the final victim being carried away, the Abbey eerily still and silent as the music came to an end.
"They're dead," Alan said. "I've got no way of tracking these guys once they're on their way. John would have been able to pick up something from the traffic cameras, but it's going to take me too long to work my way in. Sorry, Scott. If the police don't pick them up they're going to get away."
"Virgil!" Scott was yelling into his watch, desperately trying to rouse his brother. "You need to wake up!"
Virgil moaned and mumbled something unintelligible.
"Don't say anything, just get to Dad!" Scott ordered.
Virgil raised himself up to a sitting position with some difficulty, since Flora decided to choose that moment to open her eyes, snuggling up to him with a satisfied smile as she realised her luck in landing where she had. But Virgil, usually a perfect gentleman, was having none of it, unceremoniously shoving her away and ignoring her indignant protests as he got unsteadily to his feet. As the Abbey doors burst open and the security forces poured in, he managed a couple of stumbling steps in the general direction of his father before his legs gave out and he dropped heavily to the floor again.
"Okay," Scott murmured. "Stay where you are. Call me when you can."
He broke the connection, then could only watch as the authorities finally took control.