Next day update! Woooooh! I think this is the first time this has happened in the history of this story, so booyah!

I hope you enjoy, the usual disclaimer, I don't own it and personally I blame the locals. Not my locals, locals in general.

But here it is!

All Expenses Paid

Chapter 9

Virgil watched his father pace the small cell. He was surprised that the man could move so easily considering the beating his ribs had received earlier. The man was silent as he paced and hadn't looked at his son huddled under John's jacket once.

He had always been intrigued by the workings of his fathers' mind. The man was like a machine. Not in the sense he worked quickly, if anything the man could be incredibly slow, but he was methodical. He would choose an idea and weigh up every pro and every con. He would analyse every possible outcome, every potential downfall. But by the end his plan would be infallible.

Naturally this was only the case when the man had the time to go through each stage of testing the plan. Sometimes he was hot headed and ran straight ahead without any thought to the consequence, but sometimes that's what being a Tracy meant. Action before equations. And right now, Virgil couldn't think of a better time for action.

He kept watching his father pacing until he was struck by an idea; an idea which might just work.

Gordon was, for lack of a better word, panicking. His brother was unconscious on the floor and Brains had just disconnected the communication claiming to have had a brain wave. He knelt down next to his brother who was sprawled on the floor. Why hadn't he paid attention in first aid training?

Gordon clumsily moved Alan into the recovery position, unsure of what to do next. He wasn't the medic, that was Virgils' job. But Virgil's not here. He winced at that thought, Virgil wasn't there and that was what had put them in this predicament in the first place.

A soft moan from Alan snatched Gordon's attention. The blonde cautiously opened his eyes, the blue iris's only small slithers against the large pupils, giving the teenager a cartoonish look. "Gor..?" he muttered, closing his eyes against the bright lights trying to attack them.

"Hey kid," Gordon smiled "Why you scaring the crap outta me as well? Hey?"

Alan gave a weak chuckle, opening his eyes again, this time leaving them open to take in his surroundings, "Er, April Fool?"

"Yeah nice try, it's October squirt" Gordon laughed as he pulled his brother off the metal floor "Jeez Alan, as if we don't have enough to worry about without you collapsing on me."

At this Alan stopped smiling, allowing himself to drop into one of the metal chairs. "Seriously, Dad would scalp me if anything happened to you up here Squirt," Gordon joked, whilst shining a small pen light into his brothers' eyes. Alan hit the light out of Gordons' hand.

"Yeah, right." Alan scoffed "If we see him again that is."

Gordon stared at his brother who was now staring at his shoes as though they had offended him. "Alan, what the hell?" he whispered, still not sure he had heard his brother correctly.

Alan looked back at his shocked brother, slightly confused "You're the one who said I was stupid for believing he would fix all this." Gordon continued to stare "You were right Gordon, he's not perfect. Never was." Alan made to walk out the room but was roughly grabbed by Gordon and thrown back in the chair.

"Sit down and shut up!" he yelled, Alan pulled himself into a more comfortable position watching his furious brother "I shouldn't have said that Alan. And I am sorry for losing it. But don't you dare give up! Don't you dare," Gordon was half angry half pleading now "We don't know what is happening down there, but we have our guys, our family down there fixing it."

"But what if they don't?" Alan asked, his voice small.

"Don't think about that, and I mean come on! We've bounced back from worse!" Gordon placed his hand on his brothers' shoulder, angling him to look in his eyes "Jeff Tracy is down there Alan. Jeff freakin' Tracy, who started International Rescue and saves the world." Alan looked like he wanted to protest this but before he could Gordon started again "You're right he's not perfect. I mean we should know, we've put up with him since birth. But he is the closest thing to a hero we have right now."

Alan turned away from his brother, letting the words sink in and soon found himself forced into a rough hug. Finally letting the frown fall from his face, he returned the hug.

Brains' was shocked he hadn't thought of it earlier, it was so simple. Returning to his workstation he went back on to the communication software. He was not surprised that no one was online other than himself and Thunderbird 5, but that didn't mean he couldn't find the others.

If he were honest with himself, it was not really his idea; he was merely re-inventing Johns' idea with the tracking device, except he was doing it in reverse.

So remotely using the satellite relay station he sent up a signal, bounced it off Thunderbird 5 and let it search for the unique signatures of the International Rescue communicators. He watched with avid interest as the results slowly trickled in.

The first to become apparent was Scotts', which appeared to be the other side of the city, rather than at the Tracy Industry building as Brains' had expected. The other signals came in at the same time, one weak and the other as strong as Scotts'. The first was the one John had engineered and the other was Jeffs'.

The signals were on top of each other; at least they found them Brains thought.

Jeff was speechless. His son's plan was interesting, but it also sounded a lot like something from a movie he had been conned into watching by his sons once. "Come on Dad, what else can we do?" Virgil pleaded.

As Jeff agreed, he couldn't help but hear Lucille's voice in his ear, scolding him for giving into his sons' every whim.

Shaun was sat in front of the Hood. He was surprised at how well the man was taking the blonde guys disappearance. But maybe it was like he said; he only needed one and one was what he had, and now he had the head guy things couldn't be going better. So then why did he feel like he was about to have the carpet pulled from beneath his feet?

He watched the Hood meditate. The man seemed to do it a lot recently. Shaun had worked for him for almost three years, and had only seen him do it on the rare occasion. But recently, every time there was a spare moment, he was meditating.

But he knew better than to question his boss's habits. He remembered what had happened to Mullion. He looked back at the Hood's relaxed features. Still, doesn't add up, he thought, looking towards the CCTV monitors to see the two Tracy men huddled together on the ground. The uneasy feeling came back into his gut. He could see the older one was laying on the ground. He didn't dwell on this though, as it was then that the Hood awoke from his trance. Turning and smiling at Shaun "Go get them."

Virgil held his breath as the thug entered the cell. He knew this plan was a long shot, but it was better than nothing. He watched the large man's gaze scope across the room and finally land upon his father who was currently laying prone on the floor, once again clutching his ribs.

"What's wrong with him?" the man asked, giving Jeff a slight kick. Jeff recoiled with a moan of pain followed up by a series of steadily worsening coughs.

"I don't know," Virgil choked out, looking at his father with wide fearful eyes. The thug gave Virgil a cursory glance before approaching the man writhing on the floor. He knelt down above Jeff and pushed him onto his back from where he had been on his side. This caused Jeff to emit another round of wet coughs.

The man was so focussed on Jeff's apparent immediate need for medical attention he didn't hear Virgil slowly coming towards him from behind, clutching the broken table leg John had used earlier.

Jeff opened his eyes just in time to see his son bring the table leg down upon the thugs head. He didn't however roll away in time for the man not to collapse onto him, making him give a genuine groan of agony. His ribs may not have been broken but they were certainly bruised and having two hundred pounds of henchman falling on him was not doing them any favours.

The weight was readily removed though, and Jeff soon saw his sons' smiling face appear above the thug who rolled unceremoniously onto the cold concrete floor. He held a hand out for his father and pulled him onto his feet. Sharing a quick victorious smile Jeff started searching the unconscious form on the floor, whilst Virgil kept an eye out at the door.

Scott had lost count of the cups of awful hospital coffee he had got through in the past few hours. In all fairness he should have realised it wouldn't be great coffee as the machine was dented and looked as though it had been through the wars. Still he drank cup after cup, not wanting to miss anything.

He looked around the waiting room; there had been two families in there when he had first arrived but both had gone now and another had taken their place. One of the first families had tried talking with him, consoling him, but he hadn't listened. It didn't mean anything. The only thing Scott wanted to hear was that John was okay, and that hadn't happened yet. So he went on ignoring the world, and the insistent beeping of his wrist communicator.

End of Chapter 9

So things are….different….YAY!

Awesome points are on offer once more for anyone who can figure out how that coffee machine got dented in the first place.

RussianKat