They descended the stairs on feather-light feet and Amelia did as she was told. She waited at the door, framed by the darkness that painted the front door's windows. John breathed in deeply and walked to the kitchen.
Grace was still on the floor, her eyes closed and her arms hanging loosely by her sides. When John entered she didn't open her eyes. At least, not until she heard the jingle of her keys as John extracted them from her coat pocket.
"What are you going?" she snarled.
"Leaving," John said.
And he turned on his heel.
"What? You can't! You can't leave! You-"
He did not look back. He did not witness her scrambling on the floor, desperately trying to pick her exhausted body up from the floor. He did not pause as he turned the key in the lock and stepped out into the crisp October evening.
For a nanosecond, he paused, allowing a million sensations to wash over him. The iciness of the air as the wind howled. The tang of gunpowder in the air from fireworks. And, best of all, the wide sweep of stars that hung in the sky above them.
"You can't do this to me!"
Grace's scream reverberated through the clear air as John strapped himself into the driver's seat of the Vauxhall estate car, slid it into gear, and finally drove away from the house.
Amelia sat in the back seat, a seatbelt covering both herself and the baby in her arms. It was totally unsafe – but the baby stood a better chance of survival in the car than in that godforsaken house.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"The motorway," John said.
He fumbled with the controls of the car phone and punched 999 into the keypad. It rang for a few moments until an operator picked up.
"999, what service do you require?"
The woman's voice was crystal-clear through the car's speakers.
"Police, please," John said, trying to keep his tone under control as fear and elation threatened to turn his voice into a squeak. "And ambulance."
"What's the emergency?" the woman asked.
John paused for a moment, looking at Amelia through the rear-view mirror. She gave him the tiniest of nods.
"Well, you're not going to believe this, but my name is John Tracy and I've been missing for nearly a year. I've managed to break free and I have two youngsters with me – a fourteen year old and a new born. We need assistance."
He couldn't believe the officious tone that crept into his voice as he spoke. It was like he was back with International Rescue all over again. Just like riding a bike, he thought.
There was a pause as the operator took in what he had said.
"Okay, John, tell me where you are now."
"We're in transit. I'm driving away from – where the hell are we anyway?" he asked.
"Walden South," Amelia said, shifting the baby in her arms. "You need to turn left at the bottom of this road and that'll take you to the motorway."
"We're somewhere called Walden South," John repeated. "We're heading towards the M11 driving a silver Vauxhall estate car – I don't know the model."
"It's an Ederra," Amelia said.
"It's a-"
"I got that, John," the woman said. "Can you pull over and await assistance?"
"Not a chance," John said. "I'm not stopping until there's a fleet of cop cars between me and that house."
"Okay, John, stay on the line and –"
"No can do," John said. "There's another call I have to make."
"John, no –"
But John disconnected the line. He looked at Amelia again. She was staring at him, confusion glinting in the darkness.
"I think I can trust you, kid," he said, "seeing as you trusted me."
"What are you doing?" she asked.
With one eye on the dark country lanes and the other on the car phone's control panel, John punched in a code that he had never had to use before. For emergencies only, was the directive. Well, this definitely counts as an emergency.
Just as he inputted the last digit of the code that would connect him to Thunderbird Five, a set of blinding headlights flew into view from behind. A car roared up to his driver's side and John's stomach lurched.
"It's Mum!" Amelia screeched.
Grace's face, twisted with fury, was staring at them through the car windows and John just about had time to jerk the wheel as she steered the car directly towards them. The car bodies ground and he floored the accelerator just as the on-slip for the motorway came into view.
"Fuck you," John snapped.
"Umm, International Rescue?" a voice said over the radio. "Receiving you strength five. Go ahead."
By the time they hit the motorway, the speedometer needle was pushing one hundred. There were few cars on the road. Small mercies, John thought.
"International Rescue?" Amelia asked, her words coming out as a gasp.
John didn't spare her a glance as Grace pulled her car up beside them again, once more trying to force them off the road. John managed to nose the car up to one hundred and five and pulled into the lane in front of her. The other cars on the road were nothing more than little blips as he soared past.
"Alan, is that you?" John asked. "It's John. It's John. Get me through to Dad, now!"
"Umm – what – who – how?" the voice spluttered. "It's not Alan it's – Christ, it doesn't matter. John! Patching you through now!"
"John, what's going– agh!"
Amelia's question was cut off when Grace managed to nudge the back of the car with her front bumper. John felt the vehicle buck and shift but managed to keep it under control. Please don't crash, please don't crash…
"JOHN." His father's voice was two parts joy and two parts disbelief. "Son, where are you? What happened? How –"
"Look, Dad," John said, swinging the car into the nearside lane and praying hard, "I don't have time to explain. All I want you to know is that I'm alive – but to be honest, I might be about to get run off the road by a crazed lunatic!"
"Where are you, son?" Jeff asked.
"I'm on the M11 motorway in England, just where I was when I disappeared," John said. "The woman who took me his currently trying to murder me and her daughter and your granddaughter."
"My what?"
"No time to explain!" John said. "Look, I just want you to know –"
The needles in the dash were close to maxing out. One bump in the road, one miscalculation, and they were going down in a fiery ball.
"John!" This time it was Virgil's voice that came over the radio. "What in the name of blue blazes is going on? Matthew patched me in. Where the hell are you?"
"England, M11. Look, just –"
"Virgil, alter your return course," Jeff barked. "John, son, Thunderbird Two is over mainland Europe. Virgil will be with you in –"
"Four and one-half minutes," Virgil said. "Hold on, Johnny, we're coming!"
"Yeah!" It was Gordon. "We're on the way!"
"And I'll be there in two!" Now Scott.
John could not allow himself to process the feelings of pride and love that were swelling inside him. All he could do was focus on keeping the car on the road as Grace pushed up again, flicking her high-beam lights on and off with fury.
"Make it fast, guys," he said. "I'll be the car driving at ridiculous speed and hopefully not lying in a crumpled pile at the side of the road."
Grace fell back a little as they approached a bend. In the distance behind them, John could see a cavalcade of flashing blue lights. Inside the car, Amelia began to whimper as the baby started to wail.
"It'll be all right," he said. "My brothers are coming to the rescue."
~oOo~
"Holy hell," Gordon said, pacing up and down the cabin as Virgil opened up the throttle and pushed Thunderbird Two to her limit. "I can't believe it. I just… What is going on?"
"I don't know," Virgil said. "All I know is that he's in trouble but we can finally do something about it!"
Gordon stared out the window as they crossed the English coastline and Virgil started to descend.
"Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird One."
"Receiving you loud and clear, Thunderbird One," Virgil said.
"Virg, I can see the cars. John must be flooring it – easily one hundred and ten. At that kind of speed, a crash will be fatal. The other car is doing its best to run him off the road. The police are keeping their distance and won't deploy stingers for cars at that speed. We need to get him safely off the road and I can't risk trying to shoot out the other car. They're neck and neck."
"I have an idea, Scott," Virgil said. He turned to Gordon. "Rapid evac. I'll drop my speed to match his and Gordon can shoot magnetic lines onto the car roof. Once we're attached, I'll lift the car off the road."
"Is that safe?" Gordon asked.
"Safer than what's happening right now," Scott said. "Okay, Virgil, do it."
Gordon did not need to wait to be told. He was already in the bowels of Thunderbird Two before Virgil even opened his mouth.
"John, are you still with us?" Virgil asked.
"Just about," John said.
"I'm approaching your position now. Try and keep her steady – straight line and maintain speed."
"Easier said than done," John said. "But I'll try."
Virgil gulped against the joy that was rising inside him.
"Gordo, are you in position?"
"F.A.B., Virg," Gordon said. Virgil could hear the wind whipping through the comm. system. "Keep her steady."
"Get those lines down as fast as possible. One front, one back, as central as you can. Yell as soon as they're down and I'll bring us up."
"F.A.B."
~oOo~
Gordon's goggles pressed hard into his face as he steadied his grip on the magnetic grapple launcher. He took a few deep breaths, trying to bring his thundering heartbeat under control. No time to waste, he thought. Let's do this! He lined up his shot and –
"Okay, line one away!"
It connected. Score!
"And… Line two away. We have contact both times, Virgil. Take us up!"
And so, Gordon watched as the silver car soared into the air underneath them, swinging on the lines, and on the road below, a swarm of blue lights enveloped the car that had been so desperately trying to run his brother off the road.
"Are you okay down there, Johnny?" Gordon asked. Then he listened carefully. Was that…a baby crying?
"I – I think so, Gordon. Just get us down on the ground again."
"Yessir," came Virgil's voice, and with that, Thunderbird Two began to slow and turn.
~oOo~
"You're one of the Thunderbirds?" Amelia asked, her mouth agape and her eyes wide.
The car was swinging on the lines Gordon had deployed but they were holding steady. John finally released his foot from the accelerator and felt waves of relief wash over him.
"Yeah, I am," John said, reaching through the gap between the front seats to reclaim his baby.
My baby, he thought. I have a baby.
"That is…amazing," Amelia said.
At that, John let out a raucous belly laugh and put the wailing child on his chest.
"Of all the things that have happened today, that's what you find amazing," he said. She stared at him, giving the tiniest shake of the head.
Then she launched herself forward and flung her arm around his shoulders, leaning awkwardly between the seats.
"Thank you," she said.
John shifted the baby and little and turned to he could press a kiss to the teenager's forehead.
"Thank you for trusting me," he said.
She pulled back and there were fresh tears in her eyes.
"Will everything be okay now?" she asked.
John nodded, even if he didn't feel as sure as he looked.
"Yes, Amelia. Everything will be just fine."
The sensation of sitting in a car that was hanging from two lines below an enormous aircraft was nothing but strange. When the wheels hit the ground, John pushed open the door. He watched as a flood of emergency vehicles stormed towards them. Most important of all, however, was the sprinting figure in blue that streaked across the roadway from Thunderbird One.
"John! John!"
Never before had John been hugged so hard in his life and he twisted around a little to protect the baby. Amelia stepped in and took her. John flung his arms around his older brother and squeezed, drinking in the presence that he had been bereft from for so long.
"Jesus, Johnny. Jesus Christ…"
Thunderbird Two's engines powered down as they embraced and within a minute, two more sets of arms had enveloped him. He was being utterly crushed and he could not have been happier.
"You're back," Gordon said. "You're really here!"
"I'm… I'm really here," John said, though it sounded more like a question.
The four brothers gradually extricated themselves from one another as a medical crew arrived. John waved them off and pointed to Amelia and the baby.
"Them first. The little one was only born a matter of hours ago."
"The little one?" Virgil asked. "John, what…?"
John felt his knees go weak and he started to slip towards the ground. Three sets of hands were on him before he could hit the deck.
"It's… It's a very long story," he said as a feeling of complete weariness overtook him. "A very, very long story."
He looked at each of his brothers, catching each of their gazes in turn.
"Thank you," he said.
There were no other words to say.