Hey, guys. Sorry to be so late, and if you reviewed, I promise to check and reply. Being a very busy time, Chez Moi...

42

Thunderbird 7, approaching Mars-

About half an hour away from the red planet, Lee began to decelerate; gimballing those four massive engines and rotating the ship so that now, it faced backward. Slowing down from quarter-light took a great deal of energy, and burned up just over half of their fuel. They'd be taking the slow way home, Lee figured.

Beside Captain Taylor, Gordon drummed his gloved fingers and tried to plan, instead of just worry. He hated going in blind. Stared at that growing, sullen red world, with its frosty white ice caps and greyish dark storms. Watched, as the planet seemed to slide down off the main viewscreen, to be replaced by the Sun, and a distant, pale Earth-dot. They'd be coming in backward for awhile, until Captain Taylor managed to bleed off enough of their speed to make landing Thunderbird 7 even possible.

"In case ya haven't noticed, we're headed in," Lee announced over ship's comm. "Strap in and hang on, people. Don't know what we're headed inta, here. I'm broadcastin' our approach on all frequencies, but I ain't heard nuthin' back, yet."

Nor would they, as a savage virus and power outage had brought down the colony's long range comm network. Landing on Mars was very different from Earth. With a much thinner atmosphere, you couldn't glide, for crap. You had to blast your retrorockets all the way in, coming down pretty much like a powered, fast-falling rock.

On the bright side, Lee was an expert, having been here, oh… a few times before. Whistled tunelessly as he brought Thunderbird 7 in around the planet's terminator, and then locked onto FRC-1, the landing beacon.

"Don't know why they ain't answerin', Godfrey," he remarked, as Mars went from disk, to curved horizon, to rushing red landscape. "But, if what we got here's some kinda computer virus, I ain't anxious ta catch it. Been through enough o' that sh*t, already."

Amen to that. Gordon's brothers were back home in cryo-sleep, waiting for Brains' miracle cure, which would surely come soon. Different kind of virus, but still, you just couldn't be too careful.

Craning for a better look outside, Gordon spotted the colony dig, surrounded by greenhouse domes, a solar farm and a badly damaged hangar complex. Plus…

"I see something, Sir. Looks like we've got a small crowd waiting by the landing pad." Hard to count them from up here, but Gordon estimated about twenty; looking up and waving their arms. Maybe, after all, this job would turn out to be just an easy pickup?

As they dropped to the surface in that big, roaring Bird, Taylor said,

"Yeah. I see 'em. Don't know the full situation, yet, so I aim ta go in packin' and ready. This ain't over till everyone's safely accounted for, Son. We'll put them new kids in charge o' loadin' the refugees up, whilst, me, you and Tina goes lookin' f'r Pete an' them."

"Yessir," Gordon responded, reaching for his helmet. His weapon was back in the hold, hidden away in a storage locker. "I'll follow your lead."

Captain Taylor glanced over, as he brought Thunderbird 7 in for a pinpoint-accurate landing; nailing the beacon dead-on, and sending huge billows of carmine dust in every direction.

"Better 'n that, Godfrey, think f'r y'rself. Think like a Tracy."

Like his dad. Like his brothers. Knowing that he might be the only one left, Gordon squared his broad shoulders and nodded. He could do this. He had to.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mars, on the cold and zombie-dry surface-

Getting into the colony was surprisingly easy, if you had plenty of explosives, and didn't mind making a mess. The airlock hatch system was no match at all for Havok. Not when she'd ceased trying to hide.

A brief comm surge brought her the entertaining sounds of a landslide, followed by several screams, and then silence. The girl smiled as she strolled to the edge of the colony's lift shaft. Looked like her work was half done for her… although the Hood would want proof of Jeff Tracy's death. Pictures wouldn't do, either. Too easy to alter. Shame, that.

Shrugging, Havok stepped off the shaft's edge, using her cable-shot bracelets to rappel to the bottom. The shaft was cylindrical, and about two-hundred-fifty feet deep, with greenish battery lights placed at intervals, and a long steel ladder bolted to one side. Quickest way down to her (probably) dead marks, and to Fuse. She'd got about a third of the way down when one of her sensors pinged, indicating that her biodome bomb had gone off. Score.

Havok chuckled to herself as she fired alternate cables, and worked her way downward like Spiderman. Only thing left to do now was cut off a trophy, rescue Fuse, and then head for home and their payout. General Steele had offered seventy-five thousand credits for Tracy. Havok was willing to bet that the Hood would double that price, if she brought him McCord, as well. After all, a girl had to eat, and feed her big, stupid ox of a brother, too.

Picked up some comm-chatter from an approaching ship… one of the Thunderbirds… but wasn't much worried. Nothing she couldn't have handled while having a bloody manicure. Fancy her shock and delight when, as she hit bottom and slid her way out through the service exit, Havok spied seven weary and injured targets, just ripe for the plucking. Lying around the colony's dark, silent café they were; all unawares.

"Hell-oo," she purred, stepping forward and turning visible once again. More fun, that way.

The man on watch, a tall, blond fellow in dark-green military space armour, pivoted to face her. Calling up her second favourite virus, Havok lunged at him. Surprised, he raised an arm to block her advance, at the same time calling out to the others.

"Commander! Colonel! We're being attacked!"

Her fingertips brushed his forearm, transferring the computer virus to his space suit's control system. Just like that, it powered down, cutting comm and life support like she'd pulled a d*mn plug. The sentry staggered backward, then; about two minutes from death by asphyxiation. Havok laughed nastily, whirling to face the next lot to rush up at her. None of the men were armed, which made taking them down almost a joke. Any touch at all would transfer her malware, turning them into tinned, flailing dead men.

Tracy and McCord were next out of the darkened café, slowed by their injuries. Havok performed an athletic roundhouse kick, striking at the base commander's broken leg. She laughed at the awful sound that he made, then swung into another lunge and power kick, this time aimed at the colonel's midsection. Her booted foot collided with a shard of metal protruding from his spacesuit. Scraped up her boot sole, but sent Tracy crashing to the ground beside his commander, grunting and vomiting blood. Easy-peasey.

There was another one inside the café, already slumped over, unconscious. Havok stepped on his helmet, cracking the visor. His face swelled up as the air rushed out; skin frosting over, blood hissing through a million tiny cracks in his bulging face and neck. Then,

"Oy!" she heard.

Havok spun around to face the sound.

"Oy, yerself," she snapped, shifting into a casual, wall-leaning stance. "'Bout time you showed up. Figure I've only gone and earned nine-tenths of that reward, all by me own self."

Her tall, bulky brother strode his way over, boots crunching hard on the rock-littered floor. Seemed to be having trouble moving. Something wrong with his purple spacesuit, possibly. Unlike Havok, Fuse had dark skin and bleached, corn-rowed hair. Big as a house, he was very strong, and tended to think with his muscles.

"No, you don't," he snarled, scowling at his sister. "Fifty-fifty, same as always! I done me share!"

"You sat on yer fat arse, snoring," Havok needled him, smiling that thin, wicked smile. "Anyhow, as the oldest…"

"Rot!" Fuse snapped. "Oi'm older, an' everyone knows it!"

"Show me yer papers!" countered Havok.

"Show me yours!" he shot back, leaning aggressively forward and scowling. Havok just laughed at him. Like most men, he was terribly easy to control.

"Yeah, well nobody's gettin' nothin', if we don't prove that we offed the bastard," she reminded her brother. "That means it's souvenir time. Take him apart, and find somethin' as couldn't come from nobody else. Otherwise, bet me, the Hood 'll try and welsh on us."

Fuse backed down.

"Thought we was workin' for Steele," he grumped, reaching for Colonel Tracy.

"Change in management," Havok told him, kicking the base commander, again. He'd been trying to rise, like he had any hope of stopping them.

Fuse took hold of the colonel's left arm and yanked the half-conscious man to his feet, making ready to rip his helmet off. Then, a low, rapidly growing vibration hit them; first causing sand and small pebbles to rattle and dance, then shaking the entire colony.

"What the h*ll?!" Fuse growled, whirling to face the source of that sudden earthquake-like rumble.

"Fuse, what're you…?"

"It in't me!" her brother objected, backing away. Then, two things happened at once. A big, blunt metal drill-bit chewed its way through the cavern wall, glittering with some kind of flaring red energy. Rogue mining equipment, it sprayed rocks and lubricant all over the hub, then started to pull back once more. Faint sparkles of red shot to the downed men's environment suits, bringing them back online.

Across the way, three people came hurtling into the hub, shouting aloud. International Rescue, two of them, some old space captain, the other. Havok laughed, and started forward.

Fuse had dropped Colonel Tracy in his shock at the drill's sudden, roaring appearance. Now, he balled up his right fist, ready to slam the floor with a power punch. Only, his sister screamed,

"Fuse, no! Are you daft?! You'll bring the roof down on our heads! Think, you moron!"

Lunging, she took hold of the base commander and jerked him back onto his feet. Slapped a voice-activated bomb on his chest, hissing,

"Drop your guns, or your friend takes off in a million pieces at once!"

They might have obeyed her, too, only Pete grunted, "Like h*ll…!" And then, he retracted his own faceplate. Air, blood and spittle rushed out. Ten seconds.

Across the hub, Lee Taylor and Gordon Tracy fired their weapons, striking Fuse and Havok, both. Neither went down, though the force rocked them backward, some. Nine seconds.

Rigby was back on his feet again, with a spacesuit that sparkled in all-over red. Joined by Kayo, he tackled Fuse. Eight seconds.

Gordon dropped his weapon and ran to McCord, who'd gone still and swollen. Being a medic first, he had to help. Seven seconds.

He got the faceplate back in place, and tore off that bomb, hurling it as far away as Tracy muscle could send the d*mn thing. Six seconds.

Got his own air supply connected to Pete's, filling the commander's suit with half of his atmosphere. Five.

Meanwhile, Lee Taylor threw himself at Havok, wrestling the cursing, shrieking girl to the stone floor. Didn't pull his punches, either.

Gordon was already bloodied, having seen the mess up top, and given what aid he could. Hauling Pete up off the floor and across his shoulders, Gordon shouted,

"Kayo, find Dad! I've gotta get Commander McCord to the ship!"

The mining drill's path was clear, now, leaving a broad, open road to the surface. Gordon took off running, trying to race the deadly effects of explosive decompression, and save McCord's life.

Rigby and Kayo might have been in trouble, because Fuse had stopped thinking. He was lashing out at everything in sight, sending shock waves throughout the colony; cracking the ceiling and walls. Then Captain Rigby got him into a crushing choke-hold, while Kayo found and ripped out his suit's power-pack.

"By all means, keep fighting!" she urged. "Please use up your air and die here, jackass!"

"Unless I… urf… break his d*mn neck, first!" added Rigby, making eye contact with the colonel's beautiful daughter.

Havok was already done; beaten unconscious by the butt of Lee's rifle to her purple helmet. He didn't kill her, though. Just dropped her flat, and then lunged across to Jeff, who had already gone into shock. Looking up from his best friend's bio-monitor, Taylor barked,

"Secure them two, and leave 'em. We ain't equipped ta deal with prisoners, and these folk need help." To the colonel he muttered, "Hang in there, Jeffery. This ain't nuthin'. Why, I mind back ta when we was over on Olympos, and Pete stepped inta that crevasse…" and so on. Just noise. Just the sound someone makes, trying to chase off the darkness.

Working together, Kayo and the young Marine captain got Havok and Fuse locked down to a support strut. Maybe the thick, curving post would hold the two mercenaries. Maybe it wouldn't. They had bigger concerns, and lives to save. Got Rollins and La Benita back on their feet, all the while looking at each other, then looking away; shoulders sometimes bumping, as they helped carry Jeff, Jennings and poor Walker, up to the waiting ship.

Thinking, "Why now? Why this way?" Kayo got the job done. And, if there were tears streaking her face, it was no one's business but her own.