I do not own the Thunderbirds. I do not own the Thunderbirds. I do not own the Thunderbirds. I do not own the Thunderbirds. I do not own the Thunderbirds. I do not own the Thunderbirds.

Chapter 6 - Time To?

One of the other masked men came over to Kyle. "OK, we got everyone on your list. Just waiting on your private party here, we're ready when you are."

Kyle gave a wicked grin. "Excellent. Time for a show of good faith, wouldn't you say, boys? Release half of the hostages, mainly Wharton staff. Cops are far less likely to start shooting if rich, powerful citizens are in here, versus a bunch of school teachers." At the puzzled looks from the Tracy party, Wescott stared at them smugly. Pointing to a small hearing-aid like device in his right ear, he explained. "I have it tuned into emergency services. Seems that the powers that be have been alerted and are even now gathering en masse; nothing like going out in a blaze of glory, hmmm?"

"Now, I want all of you to place your hands behind your head, and follow me. We are heading into that little room to the side of the stage. Just an intimate gathering of friends, hmmm, Tracy?" Alan glared at the other boy.

"Just let them go, Kyle. It's me you have a problem with. Leave them out of it." Alan pleaded with his former classmate.

Wescott glared back at the youngest Tracy son. "Nope. I want to talk with father and son. Maybe," he leered "even with the pretty little island girl you brought."

Furious, Alan turned towards Kyle, ready to protect his fiancée from all threats. Unfortunately, Wescott was also ready for him. Lifting his gun, he quickly smashed it down across Alan's forehead. With a pained grunt, Alan collapsed on the ground, a trickle of blood running from a cut on his head. "Stupid, Golden Boy, real stupid; time that your Teflon coating comes off."

Raising the weapon, Wescott pointed it directly at Alan's head. "Time to die, hero. Time to die."

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"Time to die, hero. Time to die." John had managed to tap into the communications circuits of his father's wrist communicator. These horrifying words were the first that they had been able to broadcast for the rescue personnel gathered outside. John couldn't say how, but somehow he knew: the gunman was about to kill his youngest brother and there wasn't anything John could do to stop it. Looking up at the approaching Captain James and Emily, John saw his horror mirrored in their eyes.

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"No!"

Kyle turned at the sound of the unusually loud voice. While he had heard the voice for years, he had never heard it raised or angry. Before he could react, Fermat had flung his entire body at Wescott.

Alan was Fermat's best friend. He had been with Alan for his entire conscious existence. And no jackass with a misguided grudge was going to take that away from him. Not if Fermat could help it. But the boy never saw the second gun that swung at his head in the same breath that his father screamed "No!" Somewhere in the back of his mind – just before all thoughts fled in the approaching darkness – Fermat couldn't help but appreciate how much his father sounded like he had but a moment before.

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Gordon clenched his jaw. Alan was his one and only little brother. Fermat was no blood kin but he loved that kid as if he were family. And Tin-Tin would soon legally be his sister, just as she always had been in the hearts of the Tracy men. No punk ass little bastard like Kyle Wescott was going to take any of them from him. He was tired of losing people he loved. He had lost his mother, and then he had lost Lisa. Adjusting his rifle, Gordon aimed at the threats to his family's future happiness.

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Clutching Fermat protectively to him, Alan was furious. "Really brave, Wescott - getting your goon to hit him from behind, especially considering that he outweighs Fermat by at least a hundred pounds; why don't you try picking on someone your own size? Or," he motioned "at least respect that his courage, intelligence and integrity outweigh you 3 to 1." As Kyle returned Alan's angry look, the eighteen-year-old snarked, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I just step on your poor itty-bitty little ego? You can't handle the fact that he is a better person than you, can you? But then that wouldn't take much, would it?"

Kyle raised his gun again and pointed it directly at Alan's head. Alan raised his head, letting his eyes slip over to his father and fiancée. With a glance he tried to convey all the love he felt for both of them.

Tin-Tin felt her eyes fill with tears. She had loved Alan almost half of her life and had wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Clutching her hand, she felt the ring Alan had placed on her finger six months ago – his grandmother's engagement ring. Looking at the gun that was threatening to dash all her dreams of the future – for she could not picture a future that did not include Alan Tracy – Tin-Tin thought of the powers encased in her mind, powers that she had tried to deny all her life, powers that she had associated with evil after their terrifying encounter with her uncle The Hood. Grasping the crystal charm that her father had given her as a child, Tin-Tin focused all of her will on the gun in Wescott's hand.

Wescott felt the power course through his veins. The Tracys had humiliated and then murdered his brother. Alan Tracy had constantly embarrassed Kyle here at Wharton's. Payback was a bitch, and it was time for Alan to pay, for all the Tracys to pay. And killing Alan Tracy was the perfect way to hurt all of the Tracys. A rush, better than any drug that could ever be found, overtook him. He raised the weapon slightly higher and aimed it directly at Alan's head. With a sense of deep satisfaction he began to pull the trigger on his gun...

a/n - I have been assured by my ever wonderous beta Sam1, that I need to go into hiding at this point before you kill me... well, if you kill me I can not continue to write. so, the choice is yours... (just in case, I am glad I have a laptop as it is easier to duck for cover and type then if using a desktop...)