Author's Final Note – A long time coming. I hope you like it. Thanks again to Sam W for casting an expert eye over the final draft and her patience during the grammar and the punctuation lessons. …mcj

"THE FIRE"

Epilogue

The deafening rumble from below the roundhouse…

Seagulls taking to the air in fright…

The lack of other rescue activity indicated the significance…

Thunderbird Three was ready for lift-off…

Destination: Thunderbird Five.

It hadn't come as any big surprise. Thunderbird Five was the ideal place for Alan to think long and hard about what could have happened to him if Virgil hadn't saved his butt. They'd all be thinking long and hard after what they'd just been through in the laboratory.

As expected, Father hadn't taken any prisoners.

Scott Tracy stood alone on the balcony of the Tracy Villa and waited unhappily for the launching. He could still picture the look on Alan's face when Father ordered the early rotation.

Six weeks, not four…and he'd better get his head together while he was up there. Bravery was one thing. Putting Virgil in a position where he had to risk his life was another. He didn't think and he could have lost his own life because of it.

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you, son?"

Scott swallowed hard and remembered the rest of it. Father sure knew how to make the best use of that particular line.

As expected, the second de-briefing had been ordered the moment they'd finished breakfast. They were all to report to the laboratory immediately, Father had said, before he left the table. Tin-Tin was given a brusque instruction to contact John and patch him through on channel five.

"Now, please Tin-Tin," he'd instructed bluntly when she threw a nervous glance in Alan's direction.

This was the Jeff Tracy who had no time for pleasantries.

This was going to be "serious shit" all right.

"Maybe he thinks it's non-confrontational."

"No, he doesn't want Grandma to hear."

"More like there are heaps of places to hide the bodies."

Scott had frowned at his brothers in disapproval as they all descended in the elevator. This was no time to try to figure out Father's logic for ordering them to the laboratory, he'd said. They'd be better off thinking about the way they were going to conduct themselves when they got there.

Father was waiting for them when they arrived. His features were solemn and his voice was stern.

"Close the door, boys."

John's image appeared soon after, courtesy of channel five.

It had all started exactly the way Scott had said it would. Father told them point blank he was no longer interested in their opinions or any arguments. After a night of tossing, turning and imaginary hostage signals, he was only prepared to deal with the facts.

"Yes, sir," they'd all replied.

Father didn't pull any punches. Alan and John were slam-dunked in the first five minutes for failing to ensure they had adequate rest. There were no excuses for the condition they were in and if they thought he was going to ask if there was some sort of explanation for it, they were very heavily mistaken. He already knew why they'd had insufficient sleep and an International Rescue debriefing was not the place to discuss any of it. There was a rule in place around here; an important rule.

"What is it?" he'd demanded, looking first at Alan and then at John.

"Anyone involved in any rescue must be fit for duty and alert, sir," they'd both mumbled in shamefaced unison.

"Indeed. You boys seem to have forgotten that."

Father shared his silent glare of disapproval with all of them.

Then he'd paced up and down the length of the laboratory, stopping periodically to inspect one of Brains' many experiments. It didn't take long for his philosophical monologue to unnerve everyone.

"Ah yes…"

"Brains..."

"…brilliant man..."

"…creative…"

"…innovative…"

"Constantly seeking to improve the performance of the equipment…"

He'd stopped to uncover some twisted metal parts that Brains was currently storing in the laboratory. He'd looked at them for a while, glanced deliberately in Virgil's direction, and then resumed his pacing.

"Now…"

"...where was he?"

"Ah yes…"

"…Thunderbird Two."

"Twenty six minutes early."

"Certainly an impressive performance..."

He stopped in front of the huge steel bench, leaned forward and fisted his hands together.

"…for a craft that already flies to danger zones at maximum speed."

The expected question was fired at Virgil. At what point had he been informed it was in order to trial any new enhancements in Thunderbird Two?

"Sir I…"

True to his word, Scott had stepped in.

"Dad, it was my fault. I ordered Virgil to do it."

Father's frown immediately became every bit as intimidating as his tone. His eyes moved from Virgil to Scott to Virgil and then back again.

"You ordered him, Scott?"

"Yes I did, sir."

"You ordered your brotherto double his speed with something Brains clearly told you not to trial?

"Yes, I did."

"Knowing full well there might be consequences?"

"Yes."

"I see."

"Well, there's no point me lying to you, Dad."

Scott should have known that his admission was never going to save either of them. Father's voice lowered by at least an octave. He'd heard enough. They would now listen to him.

He thought that he had made himself perfectly clear on this subject. No new innovation was to be trialled without his express permission. Brains knew it. They knew it. And not only that, they knew exactly why he'd made that decision. There were risks to consider; precautions to take. Did they need to be reminded about the close call they'd had trialling the recent "foolproof" improvements to the Mole? That useless pile of crap in the corner was all that was damn well left of it.

His fist slammed down on the bench.

If Thunderbird Two arrived at the danger zone twenty six minutes early, he considered both of them to be equally at fault.

"That order should never have been given in the first place, Scott…"

"Dad, that's why I said it was my…"

Father had no intention of being interrupted.

"…and, Virgil, let me tell you right now, the order should not have been obeyed!"

He paused for effect and effect he got. Neither of them moved or said anything.

"Alan and Gordon were aboard that craft," he rumbled dangerously, without taking his eyes off either of them. "If something had gone wrong up there Virgil, what the hell would you have done?"

"I don't know, Dad."

"No you don't know. Scott, what about you?"

"I don't know either, sir."

"Exactly the point."

More exposure to the Jeff Tracy glare had followed.

"Now…"

Scott felt his chest sink into his stomach at that point. He knew what was coming next.

Father had requested an accurate and clear summary of the effectiveness of the exchanges with Thunderbird Five.

"The whole thing could have been handled much better, sir," he'd replied, without making eye contact with John.

"So, why do you say that?"

The inquisition had begun.

"We were pushed for time, sir."

"Despite Thunderbird Two's early arrival?"

"Yes, sir. The fire was pretty much out of control when Virgil landed."

"And?"

"And I needed more information about the building structure before I was prepared to risk the Firefly."

"So you asked John to get you the information that you required, is that right?"

"Yes I did, sir. Several times."

"And?"

"And the two of us argued about it and wasted valuable time, sir."

"So did you think to explain to John why you needed the information?"

"Dad, I didn't have time."

"You found the time to argue though."

"I guess so, sir."

"There's no guessing about that, son."

The inquisition moved to where John waited silently on channel five.

"And what do you have to say for yourself, John?"

John looked like he was about to be sick.

"I know I shouldn't have argued with him, Dad."

The eyes of authority bore through him.

"That's right John. You are there to save lives, not argue. I placed Scott in command."

"I know you did, sir."

"I'm pleased that you know. You certainly didn't seem to know when I tried to debrief with you, yesterday."

A third sweeping glare.

More silence.

And then Father dealt with the rest of it.

He started with Gordon who, so far, had somehow managed to escape everything but the glares. In fact, Father began almost pleasantly. He commended him for saving nine out of the ten people involved. Saving lives was indeed worthwhile. It was the reason International Rescue had been formed in the first place. He never lost sight of that fact.

However…

The blast came straight out of nowhere.

…Gordon had also completely overstepped the mark by taking risks that clearly endangered his own life. When it came to his life, there was no room for negotiation. Acting like a cat with nine lives was no way to live a long life in the rescue business. He'd already used up at least half of them. If he expected to be used on the land rescues more often, he'd be well served to think a little harder before he acted.

"That building could have come down on you, Gordon…straight down. No more nine lives. No more second chances."

The fist came down on the bench for a second time.

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you, son?"

A curt nod was Gordon's only reply.

Then it was Virgil's turn. Once again Father had started out calmly; enquiring after the burns to his hand and if Grandma had made her point yet about them not being given proper attention.

Virgil felt his way carefully.

"No sir, but I expect she'll find the appropriate moment."

The stern voice returned.

"I can guarantee you that and I don't blame her.'

The reprimand was coming. Everyone looked straight ahead.

"Virgil, I appreciate the fact that you only risked your life yesterday in order to save your brothers'. I'm sure that all of you boys would have done the exact same thing."

The punch line followed before Virgil had time to agree with him.

But his other behaviour in the danger zone had certainly left a lot to be desired.

"I rely on you to keep a level head on your shoulders, Virgil," Father berated him, without apology. "Putting pressure on Scott and disputing his decisions is not the way I expect you to conduct yourself in a danger zone. You rattled him at a time when he needed to make a critical decision; a decision that ten people's lives relied on, not to mention your own life and the lives of two of your brothers. It could have been catastrophic for everyone. Do you understand me?"

"Father I…"

The fist pounded.

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you to son?"

"Yes sir. Of course I do."

"Good; because I'll expect nothing less from you from now on."

Alan's prediction about what would happen to him ended up being accurate right down to Father's very last word. By the time the old man had finished with him, everything everyone else had done had completely fallen off the radar.

"Look at me, Alan."

It wasn't a request; it was a command.

Alan's eyes had slowly lifted to Father's.

How many times had he told him? He wasn't on the racing circuit, now. A danger zone simply wasn't the place for impulsive or reckless behaviour. This was International Rescue and he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. Responsibility did not take the form of running half-cocked into burning buildings. Neither did it give him the right to question his Field Commander's methods, make assumptions or throw accusations left, right and centre when he wasn't in possession of all the facts.

"You have no right to accuse anyone of anything, Alan. Your brother saved that child. And your brother had to save you. I suggest you take the time to appreciate that fact and try expressing some sort of gratitude."

Alan remained silent. It was obvious there was more to come.

"And if you haven't made the effort already; I expect you to apologise to Miss Kyrano for your uncivilised behaviour. Is that clear?"

A nod and the curling of Alan's lip wasn't enough to satisfy Father.

"I said, is that clear, Alan?" he repeated.

Alan dropped his eyes again.

"Yes sir...very clear."

The sentence came down. John was to return to base immediately. Alan was to be ready to leave for Thunderbird Five within the hour. Virgil was to go straight upstairs to sick bay and receive the well overdue "treatment" from their grandmother.

"Scott…"

"I'll be ready to leave in an hour too, sir."

"No you won't. You have some serious thinking to do. Gordon, you are to go in Scott's place."

And then Father turned and walked out of the laboratory.

Scott returned to life as it was and watched Thunderbird Three roar into the sky.

Now he knew how Gordon felt.

And he didn't care that much for the feeling.

He guessed the kids would be OK without him. Johnny would soon be home again. They'd be shooting the breeze and waiting for action. It would be like this whole thing had never happened.

He smirked and glanced behind him in the direction of the lounge room.

If only Grandma would stop lecturing Virgil about not attending to his hand.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

He was no longer the International Rescue Commander they'd faced in the laboratory. Dad was back to being just plain old Dad. Two cups of coffee, a roast beef on rye…and an hour to kill before the rotation.

"I find I do my best thinking when I'm out on the balcony Father," Scott heard himself reply a little sharply.

Jeff Tracy nodded as he set down the tray.

"I know what you mean. Fresh air always has a tendency to put things in perspective."

He sat down and began to drink his coffee.

"And is it helping?" he enquired casually, after a while.

Scott turned his back on the ocean view and shrugged at him.

"To be honest I'm not sure this time, Father."

Jeff Tracy nodded his head again.

"Command never gets any easier, Scott."

"No it doesn't. But that's what I do."

Jeff invited him to sit with him and enjoy the sunshine for a while. He indicated the second cup of coffee and offered him half the sandwich. Roast beef on rye. No mustard. Not exactly his first choice but with their grandmother still in full flight and no sign of Kyrano, it was all he could manage to rustle up in the kitchen.

Scott waited for a while before he spoke.

"It's not all over for me yet, is it Dad?" he asked his father quietly.

"That depends on whether you want it to be, I suppose," Jeff replied.

Scott put down his cup.

"It's OK, Dad. You can give it to me straight. I know I let you down, yesterday."

"So is that what you think?"

"Isn't that what you think?"

"Scott…"

The words of fatherly advice began.

Yesterday had nothing to do with letting him or International Rescue down. Making tough calls under pressure was always difficult. So was maintaining the respect and trust of his brothers when they got into such a tight and dangerous situation. He didn't need to say anything further about that.

Father was sure he'd learnt a valuable lesson. Scott would continue to learn and so would his brothers. They were a good team and he led them well.

"But there is one thing you still haven't learned about leading your brothers, son."

Scott looked at him.

"What's that, sir?"

Jeff reached out and squeezed his shoulder. It wasn't an easy lesson to learn, especially for someone like him.

Did he remember the night his mother died? The night he had promised to help him take care of Alan and to always look out for his brothers?

Scott tried not to allow his features to cloud.

"Yes, sir. I do."

Jeff squeezed his shoulder again and then continued on.

Scott had been only nine years old...the eldest of five in a darkened room, trying so hard to console his father. And his father had taken so much comfort in the promises his nine-year old had made to him that night. He'd watched his eldest son grow up constantly fulfilling all of those promises. Even in college and the Air Force, he'd been there to help out with his brothers. At thirty one years of age he was still trying to do it.

But it was time he gave himself a break.

His brothers weren't those frightened little boys left to grow up without their mother anymore. They were the men of International Rescue now. So he didn't have to be that nine year old anymore, either.

"There are no more promises you need to keep to me, son," Jeff assured him. Accept that your brothers are responsible for themselves. You've done everything you said you'd do for me since the night I lost your mother."

He smiled affectionately.

"You just remember that when you go out there next time."

THE END