THE table in the middle of the lounge, the sofas and the carpet were soon splattered by drops of coffee that Jeff had just unintentionally spat out of his mouth. He coughed and quickly pulled himself together whilst trying not to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"Wrong time to take a swig, Jeff," observed Straker.

"I'm sorry, Mr Tracy, but it's true," said Dr Travers. "My efforts to cure Captain Taylor's cancer have hit a brick wall. He's not going to get better, I'm afraid, but we can still give him life so long as he gets the CRP-83."

"CRP-83?" Jeff asked. "Isn't that the new drug recently developed that halts cancer symptoms and stops people from getting worse?"

"That's correct," said Dr Travers. "We've learned that one dose lasts for forty-eight hours. But we're down to our last two thanks to the trouble with the supply freighters."

"What kind of trouble?" asked Jeff.

"We've had three freighters on the trot fail to make it to Mars," explained Straker. "We believe it's sabotage."

"What makes you think that?" Jeff asked.

"Because in all three cases, the Briggs Salvage Company has been in exactly the same area as where the freighters have been lost," said Straker. "They salvage the cargo somehow and bring it back. Then when we go to recover the ship we find nothing."

"And you think these Briggs brothers are behind it?" asked Jeff.

"Commander Wilbur at Cape Canaveral seems to think so," said Straker, "and I'm inclined to agree with him. The problem is we cannot prove that they've anything to do with it."

"Those freighters were carrying urgent supplies that we need on Mars, including medical equipment like the CRP-83," said Dr Travers. "We need a new supply as soon as possible. Otherwise-"

"Lee won't last the week?" said Jeff.

Dr Travers nodded glumly.

Jeff felt his heart sink like a stone. He'd felt very happy knowing that Alan was a lot better and now all that had been wiped out by this news. "I guess you'd like us to deliver the supplies to you?"

"Actually, we'd like to know whether your engineer has got a spare ion-fusion engine that we could attach to one of the freighters to make the trip?" said Straker. "It takes six weeks for one of them to make the journey on normal power."

Jeff scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm. I think we can go one better," he said. "If we bring Thunderbird 3 to Cape Canaveral and load the supplies, we could deliver them without fear of any sabotage being done."

"That would be ideal," agreed Straker, "but it doesn't solve the sabotage problem. Whoever is behind it could always target the next freighter. We need to put an end to it right now!"

Jeff pondered the problem. "Leave it with me," he said. "I'll come up with a plan and let you know in the morning. Is Lee going to be okay for now, Doctor?"

"For now, yes," said Dr Travers. "But please don't leave it too long, Mr Tracy."

"Oh, I won't," said Jeff with determination. "I'm not going to let my best friend die when he still has a chance to stay alive!"

Jeff watched anxiously as Brains looked over the schematics of the Freighter. "Well, Brains? Is it possible?"

"I d-don't see why not, Mr Tracy," Brains said. "My only concern is that these freighters aren't b-built to travel at the speeds that Thunderbird 3 can make."

"It doesn't need to," said Jeff. "At a rough estimate, how long do you think it would take for one of them to get to Mars with that engine?"

Brains used his computer to make the calculations, muttering to himself as he did. "T-Taking into account the build, strains and right speed needed, I reckon about three days," he said.

"Three days," said Jeff. "Travel time?"

"Yes," said Brains. "But we'd also n-need at least two days to get the engine moved to Cape Canaveral and then installed and tested."

"We may not have time to test it, Brains," said Jeff. "Captain Taylor's life is at stake. I'm not ready to lose him."

"I t-totally understand, Mr Tracy," said Brains. "I will d-do everything in my power to make sure that the Freighter is able to make the journey."

Jeff put a warming hand on the young engineer's shoulder. "Brains…you're the man," he said.

Brains blushed.

Colonel Straker filled Commander Wilbur in on the plan and he was all for it. "So, we're gonna have some help from International Rescue this time," he said to Lieutenant Bell. "Well I feel much better for that."

"Do you think their presence will deter the Briggs brothers?" asked Bell.

"I hope so," said Wilbur. "They've made fools out of us. It's time we turned the tables on them." He then spoke into the radio on his desk. "Jock, can you read me? Commander Wilbur here at Control."

The call was picked up at the Maintenance Building where Chief Engineer Jock Mackay and his assistant Edmundo were working. "Go ahead, Commander?"

"Jock, I need you to set up Freighter 8 for transit to Mars," said Wilbur. "We're going to have assistance from International Rescue on this one. They're bringing a special engine that only they have to help make the journey faster. Now listen carefully, Jock. I want that freighter checked, double-checked and then checked again once the modifications have been completed. I don't want anything left to chance."

"Okay, Commander," said Jock. "I'll get right on it." He then turned to Edmundo once Wilbur had signed off. "Now, Edmundo. I want you to listen carefully to what I'm going to say."

Edmundo had been hammering away at some metal. He stopped when he heard Jock say his name. "I am all the ears, as they say," he said in a thick Mexican accent.

"Good," said Jock. "Freighter 8 needs to be made ready for International Rescue's arrival. We will help them install this new engine. Then we will check everything from top to bottom. And after you've done that, I will do it right after."

"Right after I've done it?" Edmundo asked. He looked surprised and a little insulted. "Do you not trust me to get it right?"

"Of course I trust you, Edmundo," said Jock. "It's just what Commander Wilbur has asked of us."

"If you say so, Jock," said Edmundo. He said no more and went back to hammering.

Thunderbird 2 delivered Brains and the ion-fusion engine to Cape Canaveral. He along with Jock, Edmundo and a few other technicians spent the next twenty-four hours fitting the engine to the back of Freighter 8. Thunderbird 2 didn't stay around in case it was needed. Brains had all the help he needed, and after several hours of long, hard work, the job was finished.

"Magnificent," Jock said to Brains. "I wish I could see this baby work in space."

"I only w-wish it could be permanent for you, Mr Mackay," said Brains. "But this is a one-off, I'm afraid."

"I understand, Mr Hackenbacker," replied Jock. he turned to Edmundo. "Edmundo, go and carry out the first check, would you, please?"

"Of course," said Edmundo and he headed off to check the systems of the freighter.

Brains watched Edmundo enter the Freighter. "Think that's the first t-time I've heard him speak," he said.

"Och, don't mind him," said Jock. "He's new to the job. Doesn't tend to make friends."

"Hmm," said Brains thoughtfully. But he said no more.

It wasn't long before Edmundo returned to the platform outside the main door leading into the Freighter. "I have completed the checks, Jock. all systems read green."

"That's fine, Edmundo," answered Jock. "Now, I'll go and check everything." He then walked inside as Brains and Edmundo watched him.

Brains noticed that Edmundo seemed a bit worked up about something. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Edmundo asked.

"You seem…b-bothered," said Brains.

"Ah…it's this order about double and triple checking!" said Edmundo. "It's like they don't trust me or something."

"How l-long have you been working here?" Brains asked.

"A few months. Why?" Edmundo asked.

"Oh, j-just wondered," said Brains. "It's just with the sabotage and all that, we can't take any chances."

"What's this? Sabotage?!" Edmundo said, his voice raising suddenly. "Are you accusing me of sabotage?!"

"W-What? N-No, of course not," Brains stammered. "I-"

"YOU ACCUSE ME OF SABOTAGE?!" Edmundo shouted, taking a hard step towards Brains like he was about to attack him.

"HEY-HEY-HEY!" Jock had returned having been alerted by Edmundo's angry voice. "What's going on here?"

"HE ACCUSES ME OF SABOTAGE!" Edmundo said furiously.

"I was NOT!" Brains shouted back, swallowing the initial fear he'd had. "I only said with the sabotage that has been happening, we aren't taking any chances! If it came across like that to you though, then I sincerely apologise for that."

"You see, Edmundo?" said Jock. "That's what he's saying. He's not accusing you of anything."

Edmundo just started grumbling in his native language and stormed off like a child having a tantrum.

"Oh d-dear," said Brains. "I didn't mean to-"

"Och, Dinnae fash yourself, Mr Hackenbacker," said Jock. "I know you didn't mean to offend him. Why don't you help me with this double-check, hmm?"

"Y-Yes," said Brains. "That's a g-good idea, Mr Mackay."

For the next half hour, the two men searched every single piece of equipment inside the Freighter to make sure that it was all in good order.

"Master Computer…check," said Jock. "Well, that's it. A pity we won't have time to test the engine before tomorrow."

"But it's configured to work with your ship's computer," said Brains. "All d-diagnostics in the computers show that it should work fine."

"Aye, but I'd feel better if there was a ship available to escort it," said Jock.

"Ah, but there will be," said Brains with a smile. "T-Thunderbird 3 will be acting as an escort on its journey. That should deter any saboteurs who attempt to intercept it during its flight."

This brought a massive smile to Jock's face. "Och, that's wonderful to hear," he said. "Now, let us go and get a bite to eat. Have you ever tried Haggis, my dear Brains?"

"N-No, I can't say that I have," replied Brains as they headed out of the Freighter. "Is it good?"

"It's wonderful," said Jock proudly. "Best food in the world. You'll see."

The Briggs brothers lived on a small island in the Caribbean off the coast of Florida, although not anywhere near to Cape Canaveral. They lived in a wooden shack close to the small landing strip where the Vulcan was parked. Night had fallen and a full Moon shone over the sea. The two brothers were inside playing cards and drinking beer.

"Got any Fours?" Sim asked Joe.

"Nope. Hic!" Joe replied. "Go fish."

The phone on the nearby table started ringing. Sim reached over and pressed the button. "Hello? Briggs Salvage Company, how may we help?"

"Hello, Mr Briggs," said a slightly distorted voice over the phone. No hologram image appeared which meant the caller wanted to hide their identity. "This is X, speaking."

"Ah, X," said Sim. "Are we go for tomorrow?"

"Yes," said X. "Everything is set up. But there's a slight change which I need to inform you of."

"Oh? And what is that?" asked Sim.

"International Rescue have been brought in," said X. "They have added a special rocket to the back of the Freighter. It'll make the journey to Mars in three days instead of six weeks."

"Jeepers!" exclaimed Joe. "That is fast."

"Can't you do anything about that, X?" asked Sim.

"No, I have not been able to touch the rocket motor," said X. "But it has been wired to the computer so it will still be stopped the same way as the others. However, instead of the usual timer, I have set a remote detonator that only you can activate when the time is right."

"Well, X, you're a genius," said Sim.

"Yeah, we'd be dead poor without your help," added Joe.

"Thank you. Thank you, you're too kind," snickered X before suddenly turning serious again. "Oh, I almost forgot. International Rescue will also be flying an escort to the Freighter. I can do nothing about that. To take care of that problem is down to you. I must go. Until next time, gentlemen." And with that the call ended.

Joe and Sim looked at each other. This wasn't something they'd been expecting to learn.

Joe was looking worried. "The Freighter will be escorted by a Thunderbird?" he said. "Well, that sure is a problem. We can't take one of them on. We'll have to call it off?"

"Not on your life, Joe!" said Sim. "I ain't found a problem I've not solved. Get the ship ready. We need to get ahead of International Rescue and the Freighter. I, meanwhile, will try to find a way to deal with them." He began to laugh maniacally and soon Joe in his dim-witted way followed suit.

Thunderbird 3 arrived early the following morning, touching down on the tarmac between the Control Building and the pad where Freighter 8 was located.

Brains was surprised to see Jeff was aboard along with Alan. "You c-coming on the mission, too, Mr Tracy?"

"You got a problem with that, Brains?"

"What? N-N-No, M-Mr Tracy, I-"

Jeff burst out laughing. "I'm only messing with ya, Brains."

"Oh…" said Brains, turning slightly pink. "Phew."

Alan too laughed. "Had you fooled, didn't he, Brains?" He fist-bumped Brains's left arm.

Jeff met with Commander Wilbur and Jock. "Is she ready to go?" he asked, referring to the freighter.

"Yes, Mr Tracy, all is ready," said Wilbur.

"And everything's been triple-checked," added Jock. "I went over it once more before you arrived."

"Excellent," said Jeff. "He checked the time on his wrist-controller. "Well, we'd best be on our way. The sooner Captain Taylor gets the treatment he needs, the more chance he has of living longer."

"The best of luck," said Wilbur as he and Jeff shook hands.

Thunderbird 3 took off with Brains joining Jeff and Alan in the cockpit. Brains wanted to see for himself how the ion-fusion engine performed on the freighter. They waited in orbit for it to launch from Cape Canaveral and make its way up out of orbit and into space.

"How will the engine know when to activate, Brains?" Alan asked.

"It's all been pre-p-programmed into the freighter's on-board computer system, Alan," Brains replied. "I m-must say, even without it, those freighters are marvellous pieces of machinery."

"Well, you won't have to wait long, Brains," said Jeff. "Here she comes now."

Freighter 8 appeared in view, breaking free of Earth's gravity and adjusting its course so that it would be on the correct flight path to Mars. As it did so, Alan brought Thunderbird 3 alongside it to match its course and speed.

Brains had a tablet with him that showed him data from the Freighter's computer. "We're c-coming up to the ion-fusion launch, Alan," he said. "Be ready to f-fire our own when I tell you."

"F-A-B," said Alan. "Just count me down, Brains."

The two ships moved slowly forwards on a parallel course as the clock counted down to launch. It was barely a minute, but for Alan and Jeff it seemed to feel like a lot longer.

"Here we g-go," said Brains at last. "Three, two, one, GO!"

The ion-fusion engine on the Freighter fired, shooting it off into space. At the same time, Alan pushed the throttle of Thunderbird 3's engine to only 60% to allow it to keep up. As Brains had said, he didn't wish to apply too much strain on the Freighter due to it not being made of the same strong materials as Thunderbird 3.

For the next eighteen hours, it was very uneventful. Alan and Jeff tried to pass the time by playing eye-spy but soon realised all they could see outside were stars and the Freighter. Alan then resorted to playing holographic video games. He chose his favourite, Alien Storm. Jeff meanwhile decided to periodically check in with Tracy Island and Thunderbird 5. Brains seemed so engrossed in reading the data from the Freighter that he seemed to lose all track of time.

"How are things with you, John?" Jeff asked.

"I could sure do with a pizza, Dad," John joked. "Do you know anywhere that delivers?"

"Thirty minutes or it's free, right?" Jeff said. "What's occurring on Earth?"

"Nothing major," John replied. "A fire in the Black Forest but local authorities are dealing with that. There's also a typhoon off the coast of Singapore but so far nobody on land is in immediate danger. The others are having some downtime."

"They can use it," Jeff remarked. "We've been working almost non-stop for the past few months."

Alan felt himself get hit by a sudden bout of guilt. Thanks to his visions of Sophie haunting him and then taking part in the Dakar Rally, he'd been forced to stay out of most missions resulting in the others having to take the brunt of the work. Even though Kayo, Scott, Virgil and Gordon had been understanding and willing to take on the challenge, Alan still felt bad for them having to do so.

"How's the escort mission going?" asked John.

"Alan's playing games," said Jeff. "Does that answer your question?"

"That dull, huh?" remarked John.

"Hey!" objected Alan. "Alien Storm is brilliant!"

Before John could reply, they noticed his hologram react to something. "Hold on, Dad, I think I might be getting a call coming in. I'll get back to you in a bit."

"F-A-B. Do what you have to do, John," said Jeff. "We're not going anywhere."

John nodded and his hologram turned off.

Brains suddenly let out a strange noise from his seat behind Alan's.

"Are you okay back there, Brains?" Alan asked.

"I'm n-not entirely sure, Alan," Brains replied.

Jeff turned with a worried frown. "You don't look too good, Brains," he said. "What is it?"

"It's my g-gut, Mr Tracy," Brains said. "It feels off for s-some reason. I have no idea why."

"Maybe you ate something that disagreed with you?" suggested Jeff.

Brains thought hard for a moment. "Hmmm. I didn't think m-much of Jock's Haggis," he said. "Maybe it is that that's the p-problem."

"Have some water, Brains," said Jeff as he unfastened himself and got the engineer a cup of water. "See if that helps."

"T-Thanks, Mr Tracy."

John entered the control room of Thunderbird 5. He approached the computer that showed a holographic flashing button that told him a call was trying to come through. He pressed the button to receive it. "This is International Rescue. Please state your situation?"

"Emergency! Emergency! We are on fire! We are on fire! Position - Sector 26. Send help immediately! We cannot hold on much longer!"

"Okay, sit tight. We'll get help to you as quickly as possible," said John. He waited for a response. But none came. He then checked the location of where the signal was coming from. It was coming from space. "26. Well that's a stroke of luck!"

John wasted no time in getting back in touch with Thunderbird 3. "Thunderbird 3, we have a situation."

"Wait, the situation's out in space?" asked Alan.

"Yeah and you're not far away either which is good," said John.

"What is the situation, son?" asked Jeff.

"A ship reporting a fire in Sector 26," said John. "You're currently in Sector 27. I'm sending you the location."

Alan and Jeff checked the radar scope comparing their location with that of the distress call. "We can be there in a couple of minutes at our speed," said Jeff. "Okay, John, we'll go and help."

"Er, Dad…what about the freighter?" Alan asked.

"Lives come first, Alan," Jeff reminded him as he sat back down in his seat. "John, can you keep an eye on the freighter whilst we help this ship?"

"F-A-B," said John.

Alan adjusted Thunderbird 3's course and accelerated away, leaving Freighter 8 to carry on alone.

With the speed and power of Thunderbird 3, they were in Sector 26 in no time at all and closing in on the location of the distress call.

"Have you been able to make contact with the crew of the ship in distress, Thunderbird 5?" Jeff asked.

"Negative," John replied. "I did however get the exact same call again. Twice in fact. Word for word. I think they might only be transmitting."

"Well if there's a fire, they could be trapped away from the radio and have sent out a pre-recorded signal," said Jeff. "How's the freighter looking?"

John looked at the freighter. "Still on course. Nothing's changed," he said.

Alan could hear Brains groaning even harder than before. "Water not helping you, Brains?" he asked.

"N-No, Alan," Brains replied, sounding a bit sick. "If anything I am f-feeling worse."

Alan and Jeff exchanged confused and concerned looks.

Upon approaching the location of the call, Alan decreased Thunderbird 3's engines and they slowed to a forward crawl. They then began to look around for the ship in distress.

"Strange," said Jeff. "I don't see anything. John, are you sure you've sent us the right signal?"

"Positive, Dad," replied John. "The signal's still transmitting. Although now that I'm scanning, I can only see Thunderbird 3."

"But that signal's got to be coming from somewhere," said Alan.

DONK! All three men inside Thunderbird 3 jumped as something hit the cockpit window and bounced off again, disappearing above them.

"W-What was that?" asked Brains, startled.

"I don't know," replied Jeff. "I can't see where it went."

Alan had an idea. "Dad, take the controls," he said. "I'm going out to take a look." Alan took his Astroboard and headed out of Thunderbird 3. He flew round behind the giant red rocket in search of the mystery object. Using the heads-up display in his helmet, it wasn't long before he caught sight of it. A tiny black object could be seen floating a few yards ahead. He moved forwards and reached out. "Gotcha!" he said once he had a hold of it, then returned to Thunderbird 3.

"What is it?" Jeff asked once Alan had returned.

"I dunno," Alan replied. "Any ideas, Brains?"

Brains took the device and looked it over carefully. "Hmmm. It l-looks to me like a recording device or something similar," he said. He found a button and pushed it.

"Emergency! Emergency! We are on fire! We are on fire! Position - Sector 26. Send help immediately! We cannot hold on much longer!"

All four felt their blood run cold. John in particular. "That's the distress call!" he realised.

"A phoney distress call?" Alan asked. "But who'd be crazy enough to put one out here?"

Jeff thought hard for a moment. And then it hit him. "John, the Freighter?!"

John turned his attention back to Freighter 8, his attention having been distracted. Then he went even colder. "Freighter 8…stationary," he said, his voice shaking a little. "And there's another ship approaching it!"

Jeff went red with rage and banged his fist on the control desk. "GodDAMNIT, WE'VE BEEN PLAYED!" he roared. "Alan, get us back there on the double!"

Alan leapt back into his seat and fired up Thunderbird 3's engines again. The rocket almost spun around on the spot before zooming off back towards the location of Freighter 8.

The Vulcan's retros fired as it pulled in alongside the stationary Freighter 8. Sim gave a satisfied chuckle. "Too easy," he said. "I told you it'd be a sinch, Joe."

"Yeah, Sim!" agreed Joe. "Those Thunderbirds went right off after your signal."

"Of course they have," said Sim. "Those people will never ignore a call for help." He stood up from his seat. "Come on, let's get over there and get the loot."

Joe got up and was about to follow when something caught his eye. "Hey, Sim?"

"What is it?"

"Look!" said Joe, pointing out of the window. "There's another ship approaching!"

"Rubbish!" scoffed Sim. "There's no other ship showing for thousands of space-miles."

"But there is!" insisted Joe.

Sim gave an annoyed grunt and came back to look. Then he stared in disbelief at the sight of a red rocket heading in their direction. "What the?! It can't be?!" he exclaimed.

"But I thought they fell for it?" Joe said.

"They can't have found out and gotten back so quick!" said Sim angrily. "Come on, we got to work fast!"

"Are you crazy?!" Joe protested. "They'll be here before we can even get across to the freighter!"

Sim gritted his teeth as he realised his brother was right for once. "DAMN IT!" he bellowed, angrily punching the wall of the bulkhead. Then he returned to the cockpit. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

From their position aboard Thunderbird 3, Alan, Jeff and Brains watched as the main booster of the Vulcan fired up again and it began to race as fast as it could away from the freighter.

"They're getting away!" said Alan.

"Let them," said Jeff. "They weren't there long enough to do anything. And besides, I want to see what has caused the freighter to stop. Bring us alongside."

"F-A-B."

Alan brought Thunderbird 3 alongside the freighter. The three put on their helmets and made their way over. Brains had been given the access code and used it to gain access to the ship. Once inside they made their way to the power room, where they soon found the cause of the problem.

"Well, would you look at that?" said Jeff as he approached the main computer console. The front cover had been blown off and everything inside was blackened and wrecked.

"What happened?" asked Alan. "Did it blow up?"

"It c-certainly looks that way," said Brains. ""A small incendiary device is the m-most likely cause of this."

"Not enough to destroy the ship but enough to destroy the main computer and disable it," said Jeff.

"And given how quickly those Briggs boys ran off, that proves without a doubt that they're the ones behind it," said Alan.

Brains however was quick to shut down Alan's theory. "N-Not quite, I'm afraid, Alan," he said. "It's a bit more c-complicated than that."

"In what way?"

"I f-fully agree that the Briggs brothers are somehow involved in this," said Brains. "They're probably the ones who are b-behind it. But we have no evidence that it was them who p-put the device in here. They have not been at C-Cape Canaveral at all in the time that I have been there."

"Then they have an accomplice," said Jeff. "One that is working on Cape Canaveral."

"Exactly!" said Brains. "But w-who that could be, I couldn't hazard a guess."

"We can worry about that later," said Jeff. "For now we need to get this ship taken back to Earth whilst we take the supplies on to Mars."

"Of c-course," said Brains. "We'd b-better get them transferred to Thunderbird 3."

Alan suddenly broke into a grin. "Actually, Brains, there's no need for that," he said. He then led a curious Brains to the cargo bay and opened the door revealing that it was empty.

"Wait? W-What?!" exclaimed Brains. "But, h-how-"

Jeff smiled and showed Brains a live CCTV fed on his wrist projector. It showed the cargo crates safely stored inside the hold of Thunderbird 3. "We've had the supplies the entire time," he said. "Picked them up from another base before we arrived at Cape."

Brains was more than staggered by this revelation. "I'm m-much impressed, Mr Tracy,"

Just then, John radioed in. "Sorry to interrupt, Dad, but we've got another situation."

"This better be genuine, John?" said Jeff.

"It is," said John, sounding very concerned. "I've just had a call from Mars. Captain Taylor's taken a rapid turn. He didn't respond to the last injection. He might not have long left."

The satisfaction that Jeff and Alan had had for keeping the Briggs brothers away was wiped out.

"You'd b-better go," Brains said. "I'll s-stay here with the freighter whilst it's towed back to Earth. I arranged for some space-tugs to follow us in case something like this happened."

"Are you sure, Brains?" asked Jeff. "Those brothers might come back after they've seen we've gone. That's if they've stayed nearby."

"I'll t-take my chances," said Brains, although he didn't sound too confident, Jeff thought.

"Regardless, you'll need this," said Jeff as he removed his stun-gun and pushed it into Brains's hands. "If those goons are armed, you'll need to defend yourself."

Brains was reluctant to take the weapon. He hated weapons, but he also knew that Jeff wasn't wrong. "If you insist, Mr T-Tracy. Now go. Captain Taylor n-needs you."

Alan and Jeff returned to Thunderbird 3 and rocketed away, leaving Brains alone aboard the freighter. The ion-fusion was up to full power to ensure that it got to Mars as fast as possible.

As Jeff had predicted, the Briggs brothers had kept their ship out of sight, but close enough to monitor the situation. They saw Thunderbird 3 leave the freighter alone once more.

"Look at that, Joe," said Sim. "They've left it. Let's go back and get the loot."

"Er, but wouldn't they have transferred the cargo to their ship?" asked Joe.

"In fifteen minutes? Don't be daft," snorted Sim. "With the amount those freighters carry it takes ages to switch the cargo between ships. Now, take us in."

Joe was uneasy, but complied as he set the Vulcan's controls to take them back over to where the freighter was sitting.

Brains observed on his portable Radar Scanner that there was another ship closing in. He gulped as he looked down at Jeff's stun-gun. "God forgive me should I have to p-pull the trigger," he said out loud to himself.

The Vulcan pulled alongside and after donning their helmets, the Briggs brothers made their way over to the freighter. Soon they were inside having gained access via the security code that X had given them. "Same as always, Joe," said Sim. "You plant the bomb. I'll start moving the cargo."

"Roger, Sim."

Brains concealed himself behind one of the computer consoles out of sight. He tried hard to keep himself calm but found he was unable to stop himself from trembling. He feared the chattering of his teeth might alert the brothers to his presence.

Joe entered the power room and was just putting the bomb in the destroyed part of the main computer when he heard a shout coming from further back in the ship. "Huh?! Sim?! SIM!" He then ran off, without setting the timer on the bomb.

"Phew…" Brains puffed to himself.

Joe ran into the cargo bay to find an enraged Sim jumping up and down. "Sim, what is-?" He broke off when he saw what was wrong: the empty cargo bay. "W-W-Where's the loot?"

"IT'S NOT HERE!" shrieked Sim. "THEY WERE EXPECTING US! LOOK AT THIS!" He threw a piece of paper into Joe's face.

Joe took the paper and read what was on it.

"Dear whoever has come to try and claim the cargo,

Sorry to break this to you but as you can see, the cargo's not here. It's aboard Thunderbird 3 heading for Mars. Good luck trying to catch us.

Yours, International Rescue"

Joe was in a state of disbelief. "They…They tricked us?!" he spluttered.

"NO KIDDING!" bellowed the enraged Sim. "COME ON, WE'RE OUTTA HERE!" He grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him back to the airlock to return to the Vulcan.

Brains kept himself concealed in the computer room and listened as the two brothers made their exit from the freighter. He could now afford to relax. He'd checked the device that Joe had tried to plant in the room and found it wasn't active. All he needed to do now was wait until the salvage tugs arrived.

Mars was soon in sight as Thunderbird 3 made its final approach to the planet. Jeff made an urgent call down to the Colony. "Thunderbird 3 to Colony-1. Do you read me, Dr Travers?"

"Mr Tracy! I read you loud and clear. Do you have the CRP-83?"

"Yes, ten months supply of it!" said Jeff.

"Thank goodness!" said Dr Travers. "We've been rationing his last few and he's not reacted well to it. Please hurry!"

Jeff exchanged a worried look with Alan as Thunderbird 3 began to enter the Mars atmosphere.

Thunderbird 3 landed on the pad of the Colony and a transport was there to meet Jeff and Alan who after taking a single crate of the CRP-83 from the cargo hold, were taken straight to the Medical Bay where Dr Travers and her team were waiting.

"So sorry we're late, Doctor," Jeff apologised as he handed the crate to Dr Travers.

"Please don't worry," said Dr Travers. "Let's just hope this works." She took the crate of the drug and hurried inside the medical room where Captain Taylor was.

There was nothing that Jeff and Alan could do now but sit outside and wait. And hope.

"Do you think we've made it in time, Dad?" asked Alan, his voice a little shaky.

"We've got to have made it, son," said Jeff sharply. "If we haven't, I will hold those Briggs brothers personally responsible. And that's a promise!"

After what seemed like an age, the door of the room opened and Dr Travers came out. She didn't say anything to either of them. She didn't even look at them. Instead, she walked over to a nearby wall and leant against it.

"Well, Doctor?" asked Jeff. "Did it work?" There was silence. "Sandra?"

Dr Travers shuffled, and then let out a deep, deep sigh.