As I never seem to be really quite finished, here's a bit more by way of tying a few loose ends. And, thank you, Bow Echo, Whirl Girl and Tikatu, for your patience with my often meandering stories. =)

Epilogue

On a cold, windy island, with the petrels and seals just making their hesitant comebacks-

No one ever found the Hood, or whatever remained of him, though bad weather and maritime incidents would be blamed on his malign influence for some time to come. The Mechanic and his young 'hostages' disappeared for awhile, too, having got clean away.

All sorts of theories sprang up about the violent, midair confrontation of these two evil powers (some of them backed by GDF satellite footage). But, nothing conclusive was ever proven. To be safe, the World Council charged Kane with kidnapping and first-degree murder, then issued a(nother) warrant for the cyborg's arrest; this time, adding a massive reward. A mistake, as it turned out, resulting in dozens of foolish, dead bounty hunters.

Sentinel had been blasted apart, and then some. Nearly atomized, actually. Although force-shielded, the explosion caused some harm to the beach environment, and really pissed off Colonel Casey. Having loaded a still-woozy Jeff into her shuttle, she set him up with a med-bot. Then, instead of hounding their father, the tall, angry woman strode back out of the air ship and rounded on Scott and John Tracy. Stopping them near Thunderbird 2, the colonel gave vent to her rage and frustration.

"That weapon was evidence!" she snapped, leaning forward aggressively, and stabbing at Scott's chest with an accusing finger. "It was government property! You had no right… zero… to destroy it! Nobody pays you two to make policy decisions after the fact, dammit!"

Scott Tracy had been gazing stonily straight ahead, his gem-blue eyes focused on nothing at all. Alan looked like that, sometimes, when getting the 'pay attention to schoolwork' sermon from Grandma. Now, though, Scott dropped his thousand-mile stare and came back to the present. Batting aside Casey's chest-jabbing finger, he growled,

"With all due respect, Colonel, you weren't here. You didn't have that thing crawling right up your arse. You didn't get to see what it could do, up close! We…"

"Completely failed to inform the proper authorities, or to seek back-up," she cut him off, growing more agitated by the second. Whirling on John, this time, she snarled,

"Fifty-two ships, planes and submarines down! Thousands killed or unaccounted for, because you couldn't issue a Goddam warning, Lieutenant!"

That one hit home, but John had no real defense. How could he tell her why he hadn't informed the GDF brass, without getting his sister in trouble? Maybe arrested, even. Would have said something, accepted the blame, except that Scott shouldered him roughly aside, red-faced and furious.

"Colonel, back off! You have no idea what the h*ll happened here, Lady, and you're not in charge of my team! Sentinel's gone. I stand by that decision. No warnings were issued, because we were in the middle of a Goddam firefight between two criminals WorldGov can't seem to hang onto, and we never got the chance! Sometime, when somebody's ready to actually listen, I might explain, but not here, not now, and definitely never to you!"

By this time, Virgil had come over, with Lee, Penny and Grandma. Surveying all those tense, hostile faces, Colonel Casey stood down. Sort of. To Scott... to all of them, she said,

"I'll be in touch with the oversight committee. We may have to put a comptroller in place, given your careless disregard for public safety, destructiveness and insubordination, Mister Tracy."

Once again, her narrowed brown eyes flickered to John, and then over at Lady Penelope, as though warning them both that they were on much shorter leashes, and very dangerous ground. Behind her, a GDF tech was poking around taking pictures of wreckage and environmental damage.

"Now, hang on just a second!" said Virgil, beginning to heat up. "We don't need your…"

Only Grandma's calming hand, her whispered reprimand, kept the big pilot from saying something monumentally unfortunate. No one could quash Lee, though.

Captain Taylor was officially semi-retired, and pretty much out of the World Council's reach. Feeling the need for some fortification, he'd switched out his gum for a long-hoarded cigarette. That the knife-sharp wind blew some of that smoke in the Colonel's face gave him intense satisfaction. Now, the older man pulled his hard-breathing nephews back from the brink. Shrugged his way between Casey and Scott with a slight smile on his seamed, handsome face.

"Well, now," he drawled, after dropping his cigarette butt, and grinding it out. "don't look ta me like we're accomplishin' much here, but hellfire n' threats. Sarge, seems ta me that a look at some o' that satellite footage 'ld give th' GDF a clearer idea 'bout what-all went down… since you was late f'r th' party, an' all."

Then, glancing fondly at Scott and his brothers,

"Spencer, Vic… them desk-jockeys has ta make a livin', same as everyone else. Little lady's said her piece, an' you've had yours. Whyn't we let th' bean-counters sort it all out, over t' London?" (Mostly, Lee didn't want to get into another fight and spend more time behind bars. For that matter, neither did John, whose prison barcode had yet to quite fade.)

As the cyborgs and Kyranos were long gone by this point, Colonel Casey had no one else to blame for the mess that she and Jeff were going to be facing, back at HQ. Didn't like being laughed at, either. So, nostrils quivering, standing precisely erect, the woman hissed,

"International Rescue is grounded, and all Thunderbird vessels impounded, until further notice. You lot can find your own way back. That is all."