He knew what he had to do. He'd done it so many times before International Rescue that it had been second nature to him. When had he stopped? Why had he stopped?

Scott sighed and looked at the screen. He could answer both of those questions. He stopped because his father had been doing it.

At first, he had done it after each mission. Carefully analysing every aspect of it. Looking for places where things had gone wrong – and right. Looking for improvements.

But after a while, with his father not seemingly inclined to discuss his analysis or to take it into account, Scott had drifted away from the ingrained habit. He had, he realised, reverted to the role of child, letting his father make the decisions.

That was what Colonel Casey had been getting at. All of them had stopped being their adult selves.

In the field, during a rescue, their professionalism was there – to a point. It had been shown today, when Gordon had broken their security protocols. Even if he did know the WASP team, they should never have been allowed onto Thunderbird Four.

He made a note that the security protocols needed to be tightened and enforced. And then another about the information sharing and communications. And another. And soon he was back in the swing of a mission analysis.

And at the end of it Scott Tracy was even more troubled than when he started. Now he could see the problem, could see what he had overlooked. And he could clearly see what Colonel Casey had been hinting at.

Now he needed to investigate himself. To make sure that the germ of an idea that was in his mind would work. To test the theory before blindly implementing it. And to check with the one person who it all hinged on.

"Alan?"" No answer. Scott got up and wandered towards the stairs. "Oi! Al! Where are you?"

Alan's head popped over the railing from downstairs. "Here. What do you want?"

"I need to use Thunderbird Three."

"Why?"

"I need to go up and talk to John."

"And you want me to take you up?"

"No – I want you to stay here and I will go up. If something happens, you need to be available to pilot Thunderbird One."

Alan grinned and fist pumped. "Yes – action at last!"

"What? There's not been a callout."

"There could be. And I get to be in the middle of it. Go. Have fun. And don't forget to take a goodie bag for John. I'm off!"

"Hang on – where are you going?"

"Check out One. Gotta make sure she's ready to go."

"Fail big time," Gordon said, looking up from his chess game with Brains. "Don't worry. Virgil and I will keep him under control."

"You know what, Gordon, that doesn't fill me with confidence."

"You wound me, Scott. Honestly. Checkmate." He looked up again at his older brother. "Alan doesn't get a lot of action on his own, Scott. And he's young enough to be excited about it. Give him some slack."

"And you're so elderly."

"Nope. But I've been in his situation. And spent four months in hospital as a result of not taking enough care. Don't worry – Virgil and I will make sure nothing happens to Alan. Besides – it's not as if you're going to be gone for months on end."

"No – likely up and back within 24 hours or a little longer."

"And you're in the perfect place to know what's going on – and can come back in a hurry if you need."

"Yeah. I suppose you're right. Keep in touch, Gordon. Let me know if anything comes up."

"Not a problem. Have fun." He looked at Brains who was analysing their game. "Again?"

He never would get used to flying Thunderbird Three. Still, it was important that all of their ships had more than one pilot available, which meant he was backup for Three if neither Alan nor John was available.

Still…. It didn't have the sleek manoeuvrability of his own ship. At least in his mind.

As Scott waited for the airlock to cycle through, he made sure that he had everything he needed – and the extras that they tended to send up to John whenever somebody was heading up to Thunderbird Five. Green light… and the door didn't open. He pressed the release button, and frowned when it showed that the locking mechanism on Three had disengaged, but that the mechanism on Five had not.

"Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five. We seem to have an airlock malfunction. Can you confirm that Thunderbird Five airlock is clear?"

"It's clear. You just need to pay the entry price."

"What entry price?"

"The one contained in the bag at your feet."

"Are you kidding? The bag, by the way, is on my side of the door. You want it – you open up."

There was a pause and Scott couldn't help but grin. "Dammit. That didn't work like it was supposed to."

"Your attempts at blackmail never do, John. You just don't seem to have it in you. Now will you let me in, and you can have the bloody bag." Even before he finished speaking the doors wooshed open and John stepped forward and snatched up the small bag, opening it and cataloguing the contents. "It's all there. I haven't eaten any of it."

"I know that, but last time I came back up, Kayo managed to get to it and swapped it all for her idea of snacks. I had one packet of chips on the top that disguised the rest of it. She didn't even leave me one beer!"

Scott pushed his brother to one side and stepped through. "Serves you right for leaving it where she could get at it. I believe that she thinks that you need additional workouts. And that you eat too much junk food."

John looked surprised and looked down at himself. "Really?"

"Apparently. Then again, she thinks that we all eat too much junk food. And that we need additional workouts."

"The woman is a slave driver. Are you trying to escape?"

"Nope. I need to talk to you."

John looked at his oldest brother. "You know, there's these things we have. Communication systems. You'd be surprised at how effective they are. You don't have to nick Three to talk to me."

"Idiot. No – I wanted to talk and to see what you've tweaked up here. It's no secret that the last mission was a cockup."

"I disagree." John led the way through the airlock. "Let me put this away first. Ops room or sitting area?"

"Ops I think. If that's were all your systems tweaks live."

"It is. Get ready to fly then."

"This is amazing! Does Brains know what you've done?"

"Yeah. I ran it by him first, and then we tested it. It works a treat." John waved his hand through a portion of the image and the icons expanded. "Looks like Penny is on the move," he said and with a finger swipe flagged it to monitor. "I know where you all are at any given moment. When you're in uniform that is. Or even if you've got a communicator on you. It's not as good as in uniform, or in a Thunderbird, but it's accurate enough. Before, I needed you to check in, now, it's all automated."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Since before Father disappeared. I have a lot of empty time up here, Scott. And not even I can stargaze all the time. I've been spending a lot of time trying to come up with ways to help you out more."

"So that's why you wanted the floor removed and the grav turned off in here."

"Yup. With freefall and no floor, I can use the entire space. Which can come in handy. It means I can layer a lot of information around."

"Father said no to it." Scott's voice was offhand.

"Yeah. But I decided that I knew best what I needed up here, and spoke to Brains. To be honest – Father didn't know." Something in John's voice caught Scott's ear.

"But… other than Brains…. Colonel Casey knew?" It was a hunch based on his conversation with the Colonel.

"She did. She thinks it's a good idea. In fact, she's utilised me more than International Rescue have. And yes, before you asked, I've billed them."

"But..." Scott looked around again. "Fuck, John! The times that Virgil and I have wished to be able to get information like this during a rescue. And to think it was all here, but we didn't know."

There was a beeping and John went to check. "You didn't ask," he said as he flipped a switch. "International Rescue. No, no we don't get cats down from trees. Even if it is a cat that has won awards in international cat shows." He shook his head at his laughing brother. "Yes, before you ask, I do get a lot of those sorts of calls."

"Y'know – I'm tempted to say send Alan just for fun," Scott chortled and John's grin went wider.

"Oh hell yeah! But you know, Father was right about one thing. If we respond to things like that, people start to undervalue us. Although watching Alan deal with a treed cat and a neurotic owner would be funny as."

"But not enough to send One out. You're right. What else have you been hiding up here?"

"Apart from the scantily clad sexy female aliens? You've seen all of it. But, I do have some ideas of how I can help more."

"I'd be interested to hear. And see if our ideas can gel."

"Then come on – I'm hungry. We can talk over food."

"So basically, that's it," Scott finished and looked around at the group of people physically and virtually present. "It took me actually going up to Five and seeing just what she was capable of to realise what the best way forward would be. Are we all agreed? I'm still standing as Commander and Field Command, but John will coordinate all of our missions. Everything goes through him and during a mission, everybody is on open comms. We can't afford the cost if we don't share information."

"It sounds good, Scott," Virgil put in. "Can I also suggest that Brains at least also be on hand during any missions. He can give us information that John can't."

"Absolutely. We need to work even more as a team than we ever have. Don't keep silent. If you've got an idea, speak up. Don't go off on your own." Scott paused. "I think that's it. Oh – except for one more thing. Security. We've gotten lax. Kayo – that's your primary job. Making sure we stay secure."

"I can do that, Scott. Hear that, Gordon? No more doing guided tours of Four for your fishy friends." Kayo looked around at the brothers. "And let's not forget your other training."

"No… we can't get slack," Gordon said consideringly. "And we have. We got so used to Father looking after everything, that we stopped thinking properly. I think you've got a good plan, Scott. I agree."

"You know you have my agreement, Scott," came John's nodding answer. "It will work well."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "Alan? What about you?"

"Oh I agree. I'd just like to be able to do more – you know. Get into the action some more."

"Alan, don't despair. I've been talking to Scott and Colonel Casey. I have an idea."

Alan looked startled. "I don't know whether to be pleased or terrified."

"Terrified is always good," Gordon said with a cheeky grin.