And here's part three…enjoy!...but remember don't trust people just because they offer candy…money on the other hand is fine…as is Batman memorabilia…unless it involves George Clooney

Same disclaimer, I own nothing except the clothes on my back, the laptop in front of me and a reasonable portion of cheesecake in my neighbour's fridge

Breakbreakbreakbreakbreak SCENE… hehehehe, couldn't resist – no offence meant

Chapter 3

The Hood frowned. He could see a commotion in the building opposite. The business men and coffee boys had disappeared; instead there were badly hidden SQUAT team members behind each window. Now normally this would not have bothered him, but, and he hated to admit this, he was running behind schedule, and it was a little early for this escapade to go public.

Gordon had just thrown a toaster at Alan, and to say he had no regrets was an understatement. He would do it again. Repeatedly. Preferably with better aim.

When Gordon had first been told he would be spending a month with his younger brother he had been relatively enthusiastic about the idea. He had seen it as a perfect chance to plan new pranks, hunt for Johns' secret chocolate stash and most importantly to find out what was really going on with Tintin.

But ever since they had docked onto the satellite, the blonde had been nothing but a pest. He had done nothing except whinge, and then ask inane questions, then whinge some more; and now, the cherry on the cake, the jam in the doughnut, the toy in the box of cereal - he had broken the toaster.

Now to many a person this may seem like a trivial matter. But they had two food options open to them, at least until they found the chocolate stash, and these were a delicious variety of toastable delights or high energy, high protein, high fibre protein bars which tasted akin to sea water mixed with cardboard. So you can understand his frustration when the toaster, the answer to their prayers, had met its untimely demise at the hands of Alan Tracy.

Alan was cowering behind the control panel, trying to ignore the smouldering pile of toaster behind him, knowing that may soon be his fate. So it was with joyous relief when he noticed that his brother was no longer approaching him with murderous intent. Instead he was sat at the tele-coms answering an incoming transmission.

It wasn't until Gordon started grumbling and hitting the panel that Alan decided to come out of hiding and give him a hand. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Someone is trying to contact us but…" he smacked the panel again "it won't connect".

Alan looked at the readouts coming onto the screen. The signal was coming in loud and clear, but there was something odd about it. Gently pushing his brother's hands out of the way Alan began entering codes into the console until he finally got the screen he needed. Rather than multiple codes, which would have appeared had it been an unknown source, a single code appeared; MCTB5JGT.

This was unexpected.

"Why is John trying to contact us?" Alan turned to his equally bewildered looking brother.

John groaned as he was dragged up another set of stairs. The thugs not caring a thing for their guests discomfort continued to haul him up until they reached the necessary door.

The first thing John saw as he was thrown through the door and into the office was his brothers look of utter dread, and he couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

Virgils brain short circuited as he saw his brother thrown through the door at his feet, the only thought running through his head being why the hell hasn't Steph shut up yet? It wasn't until he was pulled out of his chair that his brain began functioning normally again.

He felt his bonds loosen until they were gone. Looking around he noticed the Hood approaching them, the smug self-satisfied grin back in place. "Well boys, now that everyone's ready I think it's time for a little field trip".

With that said he began to walk towards the door John had just been tossed through. Before either brother could complain, both were grabbed and had damp cloths forced over their mouths. They fought to stay awake, but as the inevitable pull of sleep grasped them, the last thing each saw was the terror in the others' eyes.

Jeff smiled as his two youngest sons faces filled up the screen. In all honesty he was surprised they hadn't murdered each other yet. If he had been asked with a gun to his head he would have had to admit he had put them together in Thunderbird 5 mainly to see whether they could survive undiluted exposure to each other.

He was slightly disappointed with the results.

"Err, Dad?" it was Gordons voice that brought Jeff out of his daydream "we've been receiving a signal for the past few hours from John. Has he contacted you?"

"From John?" Jeff said, confused as to why his second oldest would be contacting them.

"Yeah! The signal has been coming in for like four hours… but it won't let us answer it, it's like… well… I don't know" Alan said, hoping that his father may have a reason, and be able to loosen the knots that had formed in his stomach since they had discovered the source of the call.

Before Jeff had a chance to come up with a feasible answer, Scott came running through the office door bringing a familiar ringtone with him. When he saw his father at the control panel he thrust the ringing phone into his hand.

"Hello, Jeff Tracy speaking… yeah?... No I hadn't been informed… what?... What do you mean? Hostage Situation?"

By the time Jeff arrived on the scene the reporters were already stationed and the building had been evacuated. Avoiding the gaze of the reporters, he made his way to the entry of Tracy Industries and past the security guards.

The foyer was empty apart from a few reporters and a girl sobbing her heart out behind the reception desk. Approaching slowly, he recognized her as Merediths' maternity replacement, Stacy or something along those lines. "Mr Tracy?" she choked, staring at the older man.

"Hey" well, this was awkward "Stacy isn't it?"

"Steph actually…but…" a fresh wave of tears and hacking broke off her sentence.

"It's okay, it's okay. What's wrong?" Jeff said, pushing the girls bleach blonde bangs out of her face.

"It's my fault." She gave a painful sounding sniff "I told them. I told them they would be here." Jeff stared at the hysterical girl, waiting for her to finish "I am so sorry. He took them…and I don't know why and…I swear I didn't mean to." With that she fell back into uncontrollable sobs, but this time Jeff wasn't quite so keen to calm her down.

So leaving the distraught girl in the capable hands of one of the security guards, Jeff made his way to the stair case, calling Scott as he ascended to his sons last known whereabouts.

End of Chapter 3

…technically… not a cliff hanger…