A note to my readers—I've reworked chapters 3-7, so please reread them to keep the continuity

Chapter 7

Jeff Tracy broke the vid-phone connection with a sigh. Scott was coming home, but he was crippled in body and psyche. He only hoped that Scott was as resilient as he'd always been in the past. He heard a noise and looked up to see Gordon standing at the desk with a thoughtful look.

"Hello, Gordon," Jeff said. "What can I do for you?"

"I..ah..heard the tail end of your conversation with Virgil," Gordon said. "How is Scott doing?"

"Not as well as we'd hoped," Jeff replied. "Your brother has some healing to do."

"I think maybe I can help," said Gordon. "I've been through something like that, you know."

Light dawned and Jeff nodded. Gordon had been terribly injured in a hydrofoil accident a few years ago. "You had to learn to walk all over again," Jeff said, leaning back in his chair. He gestured to a desk chair and his son sat down.

Gordon said, "And it torpedoed my career with WASP. For a while there we thought I'd be paralyzed and I'd never swim again, never captain a sub. I know how Scott feels and I can guess the doubts and fears he's facing. It's even worse for him because he's always been the one in charge, supporting the rest of us." Gordon dug into his pocket and handed his father a folded piece of paper. "I called my orthopedist and got his referral for the best hand-surgeon he knows. He's at the Mayo Clinic and is willing to see Scott."

Jeff unfolded the paper and saw the number for Dr. Marian Shultz, specialist in reconstruction of the hand. "Thanks, Gordon, this is an incredible help. I think you will be, too."

"When Scott needs physical therapy, I can help with that too," said Gordon, grinning. "I'm looking forward to the opportunity to boss my older brother."

With relief, Jeff relaxed in the lounge and turned the television on. He was not overjoyed to see the Terri Kawamura report and would have changed channels except he caught a familiar name.

"And in the Scott Tracy kidnapping I have an exclusive interview with Ted Slater's defense attorney, Howard Baring." The camera panned over to a 40'ish man in an expensively tailored silk suit.

"It's a pleasure to be here, Terri," said Baring. "Especially since the truth of this case has yet to hit the press. My client is, in fact, a dupe, a tool used by Scott Tracy to extort money from his tight-fisted father!"

Kawamura smiled and leaned forward on her chair. "Really? Then you mean that the Tracy son masterminded all of it? What about the supposed injuries he had to his hand?"

Baring waved a hand. "Oh, that! Tracy was living in the cabin to make it look good and was willing to lose a finger to prove to his father that the kidnappers were serious. Trouble was, Slater missed with the axe and damaged Tracy's hand, which royally pissed Tracy off. He decided he was done with the plan, broke out of the cabin and has been Daddy's fair-haired boy ever since." Baring shot a look of sympathy to the camera. "And now my client and his two friends are being hung out to dry by the man who planned the whole thing."

Disgusted and feeling vaguely nauseated, Jeff Tracy shut the television off and stared into space with an expression of tightly controlled rage.

Five Hours Later

A very weary Virgil wheeled a grumpy Scott into the family jet. It had taken hours to get Scott discharged from the hospital. He could swear that every doctor, nurse, physicians' assistant, therapist and janitor had demanded that Scott go back to his room and be a compliant patient. Virgil smiled fiercely. Little did they know about the Tracy stubbornness, and with Scott backing him, the professionals had no chance of winning the argument with either of them.

"So, Scott, are you sure you don't want to sleep this trip?" Virgil asked his brother in vain. Given Scott's recent worries and how incredibly drawn he was looking, Virgil had been tempted to sedate him involuntarily.

"Nope. I'm staying awake, I feel fine, I keep telling you," said Scott defiantly.

"Uh huh," said Virgil doubtfully. "Okay, but you stay on the gurney and you're strapped in for safety in case we hit turbulence. We're following standard injured-passenger rules. No co-pilot's seat this trip."

Scott said nothing but just glared as Virgil checked the safety straps that held Scott in and his gurney down.

Hours later he was relieved when he finally saw the lights of home. "Tracy One, on final approach, am I clear to land?" he radioed his father.

"Virgil, welcome home!" his father replied. "I take it Scott's with you?"

Virgil looked over his shoulder to the pallet on which Scott slept, despite all his arguments. "Yeah, he's slept most of the flight. I think he's out until tomorrow morning. I have care instructions from his doctor and his meds."

Jeff smiled. "It's good to have you both home. Gordon will help you get Scott to the Sick Room. I'll see you both in the lounge when you're done."

Virgil found his little brother Gordon waiting at the landing strip. The two of them jockeyed Scott's float pallet into the house and moved him into his bed. By the time they'd finished tucking Scott in, Alan, Brains, Tintin and eventually Jeff had wandered in.

"He looks awfully pale," said Tintin in a worried voice. "Are you sure he's okay to leave the hospital?"

"His vitals are fine," said Virgil. "I have no doubt that some of Kyrano and Grandma's good food will perk him up. Is she back, by the way?"

Tintin smiled. "Oh yes, she's busy unpacking in her room."

"Yeah, she said Paris is lovely this time of year," Alan added. "But if Dad keeps her out of the loop on anything like this again, she's going to disown him."

"I didn't want to worry her," said Jeff, coming into the room. "And I figured that she was safest where she was." He leaned over the bed and peered at the sleeping Scott. "He does look pale. It's a good thing we brought him home." He eyed his other sons sharply. "Let's all adjourn to the lounge to discuss this further."

The lounge gathering consisted of the three Tracy sons remaining at home, John by communicator, Tintin, Kyrano, Brains and Grandma in addition to Jeff Tracy at his desk. "Okay, as you already know, Scott came home this evening. He's still quite ill and will need all our support to maximize his recovery."

"Dad, you make Scott sound like a new marketing project or something," said Alan.

Jeff smiled at his youngest and least tactful son. "Alan, I'm sorry, but I think of things in a project management kind of way. It's the way I'm trained. And, in any case, I think that each of us can help him in our own way." He took out Gordon's piece of paper and smoothed it on the desk top.

"I've spoken with Scott's new hand surgeon and made arrangements for his scans and records to be shipped to her. He has an appointment in two weeks. Gordon and Virgil," he looked at these sons. "You will escort Scott to the appointment both as emotional support and as potential therapists for Scott post-surgery. I've arranged for you to get any necessary training through Dr. Schultz."

"Brains," Jeff indicated the scientist. "I'd like you to research potential alterations to Thunderbird One to accommodate a pilot with a bad hand. I anticipate this accommodation to be only temporary, but I don't want Scott to feel that he's out of action any longer than necessary."

"Virgil, has Scott seen any newscasts today?" Jeff asked.

"Why, no, Dad," replied a puzzled Virgil. "I've been with him since he woke up this morning and it took us half a day to get him discharged from the hospital. He slept during the entire flight."

"Good," said Jeff. "Tintin, I want you to make sure that the television in Scott's room is permanently on the fritz. I don't want him to see any news from the mainland, be it newspaper or broadcast. I leave it up to you to keep him distracted so he doesn't realize he's missing anything."

Tintin looked as puzzled as Virgil, but nodded acquiescence. "Certainly, Mr. Tracy. I'll do my best. But what is this all about?"

Jeff Tracy sighed and ran his gaze over his entire family, for he considered everyone on Tracy Island his relations. "I caught Terri Kawamura's latest interview, with Slater's attorney. Their defense strategy will be to blame Scott for the whole kidnapping. According to Mr. Bering, Scott hatched the plot and changed his mind when Slater missed with the axe."

Jeff listened to the loud exclamations and let them all blow off steam, then interrupted. "Thatis why I don't want Scott aware that he's been defamed like this. Given all he's already suffered at Slater's hands, I can't see adding to his distress. I'd like us to take our own steps to clear Scott's name."

"John," said Jeff Tracy. "I'd like a thorough background check on Scott's three kidnappers. I don't want their prosecutor to lack any information about prior criminal activity. I want to squelch those rumors so thoroughly that there is no doubt about who really planned this kidnapping. I don't want Scott to ever know that his good name was ever impugned."

Jeff leaned back in his chair, a genial expression on his face. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to each of you for your role in bringing Scott home. He needs our support now, more than ever. I know that I can count on you to help him."

"What can I do, Father," asked Alan plaintively.

"Just don't booby-trap his room," muttered Virgil and was elbowed by Gordon.

Well, Scott," Virgil grinned as he pulled the last IV line. "It looks like you can finish your antibiotics and get pain meds in pill form now. No more IV's"

Scott stretched his arms for the first time in a week and slid over to the side of the bed. Even though he was still a bit unsteady on his feet, the residual weakness was fading rapidly.

"You going to work out on the treadmill today?" Gordon asked as he helped his brother up off the bed.

"Yeah, I want to build my strength back up " said Scott firmly. "I'd like to start some weight training, too."

Virgil and Gordon exchanged glances; Virgil shrugged. "The doctor said that gentle exercise was okay, so I don't see any problem with that, but realize that you aren't supposed to use your hand. I guess you'd be fine with any machine that interacts with your forearms or legs."

"Fine, I'll do that then. I may have a gimpy hand, but that doesn't mean I can't use the rest of my body," Scott said. "So, are you mother hens going to join me or what?"

Scott walked the treadmill, then ran at a brisk pace. He knew that at any given time Virgil or Gordon were watching him, waiting to rush in if Scott so much as stumbled. Heck with that! He was going to get his life back, one way or another. Damn t. in his room was out of order was out too. Tintin said it was some kind of wiring problem and she'd ask Brains about it. He picked up the remote and clicked the power button experimentally. To his unconcealed joy, the screen lit up, to a Terri Kawamura interview.

Before a horrified Gordon could shut the television off, Scott had heard enough. He gently set the remote down to keep from throwing it and turned to face Virgil on his own now-stationary treadmill.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" he demanded.

Virgil looked nervously at Gordon, unable to meet Scott's eyes. "Um…Dad asked us not to…"

"And that's why my room tv set is out?" Scott asked. "How long has this been going on?"

"A couple days at most," answered Gordon. Scott frowned, remembering his interview with Agent Davis. "Damn it!" he said, throwing his towel and stalking from the room. "Dad!"

Jeff Tracy was in his office with his usual pile of paperwork. He looked up as his oldest son stormed in with an expression reminiscent of his father at his angriest.

"Scott! What's the matter?"

"Terri Kawamura, for one," said Scott, puffing with the exertion, threw himself into a desk chair. "I think we have trouble."

"Terri Kawamura's nothing," Jeff waved a hand. "I can always sic the lawyers on her if need be. And nobody believes half of what the tabloid press thinks…"

Scott rubbed his eyes with his good hand. "That's not what I'm worried about, Dad. I just don't want to spend any time in jail."

"What?" Jeff demanded.

"Agent Davis came to the hospital and we had what he called an 'interview'," Scott said bitterly. "He spent a lot of time on where I live, what my source of income is, what my employment is. The implication was that I and my brothers have given up our adult lives and careers to live with our wealthy, controlling father to live on his money." Scott scrubbed at his eyes. "None of us even have girl friends, with the possible exception of Alan. That would give me the alleged motive to try and extort money from you, wouldn't it?"

"Scott," said Jeff. "You and I both know that's not true! You live here, at International Rescue's base so that you can be available for rescues. You have a career, it's just not something that can be generally known!"

"And that's the problem, Dad," said Scott. "How do you disprove something like this? I don't appear on anyone's payroll and while we can fix that going forward, it doesn't help now. The secrecy necessary to keep International Rescue alive has its cost. No, Dad," he said, waving aside his father's objections. "We all agreed that it was worth it and we're committed to IR. But it makes it impossible for me to defend myself."

"But there's no proof that you've done anything wrong," insisted his father. "My God, all they have to do is take a look at your hospital pictures. Nobody could voluntarily go through what you did." Jeff paused, thinking. "But you're right. We need to know what Agent Davis has in mind for you." He pressed a button and said. "Base to Thunderbird Five."

John's portrait lit up. "Thunderbird Five. Hey, Scott! How are you feeling, bro?"

Scott smiled, "Physically much better but I think we'll need some of your …ahem…research skills."

John's eyebrow lifted. "Oh? What do you need?"

"John," Jeff said. "We need a quick background check on Agent Davis, who supervised the investigation into Scott's kidnapping. What kind of man is he? Is he honest? Is it possible that he's being used by an enemy of this family or of International Rescue? Also please get copies of all police and investigative reports on Scott's kidnapping."

"Will do, Father," said John. "Does this have anything to do with all the tabloid coverage this has been getting?"

Jeff replied. "Yes, I'm afraid so. We're trying to keep your brother from being arrested or worse."

John paled. "I'll get right on it and get back to you."

Scott leaned forward and met his father's eyes. "There's just one thing I need to be sure about, Dad. You don't believe I actually planned any of this, do you?"

Jeff smiled. "No, son, I don't believe it and neither do your brothers. You can rest assured of that."

"There's going to be a trial, isn't there? Of Slater and his bunch?" Scott asked stolidly. "And I'm the chief witness. I can't hide from this."

"I imagine so, son." Jeff nodded. "There are some things I can't protect you from and this is one of them. When your honor is impugned, sometimes all you can do is look them straight in the eye and tell the truth, whether or not they're willing to believe it." He got up and wrapped his arm around his son's shoulders. "The most important people in your life already know the truth. We have faith in you."