FOR five whole days, things became a nightmare for the Tracy family. Whenever they received a distress call, they would launch to attend only to find that the Thunderbolts would beat them to the disaster zone every time. With every return landing on Tracy Island, the brothers became more and more frustrated, and soon they learned they weren't the only ones. Colonel Jennings revealed they had been trying to locate and communicate with the Thunderbolts but without success.

"Whoever these people are, they are working purely independently and without co-operation with global forces," the Colonel told Jeff. "Not to mention they're taking the work that you boys do so very well."

"It's a real bummer alright, Colonel Jennings," agreed Jeff. "But is there anything anyone can do?"

"Unless they screw up, not really," said Colonel Jennings. "They've not broken any laws, so we can't touch them. I'm sorry."

"You've nothing to apologise for, Colonel," said Jeff. "Let's hope they do slip up, but not in a way that puts hundreds of innocent lives in danger."

"Couldn't agree with you more, Mr Tracy," said Colonel Jennings. "I'll be in touch." She signed off.

Jeff looked over at his four exasperated sons who were sitting grumpily around the lounge table whilst John's hologram observed from its portrait. "I'm sorry, boys," he said. "Don't think I feel the same way as you do. Worse possibly, but we can't do anything about it."

Gordon banged an angry fist on the table. "This is just like when the GDF brought out those stupid R. !" he fumed.

"I wouldn't quite say it like that," said Alan. "They weren't created to take our jobs."

"No, but they did!" said Gordon. "And then the Chaos Crew managed to hack them and make them attack us."

Virgil grimaced as he remembered the minor damage that Thunderbird 2 had sustained from one of the R. 's lasers.

"These Thunderbolts are different," said John. "Clearly someone is trying to either make us look bad or put us out of business."

"And at the rate they're going, that's what's going to happen!" growled Scott.

"How do they do it?" Virgil asked. "That's what I wanna know."

"How do they do what?" asked Gordon.

"How do they always manage to get to the danger zone first?" said Virgil. "Every time it's been almost the exact same. We get a call, we launch the ships, and then they beat us to it right at the last second."

"There have been a few reports of them getting to locations before we've even launched," said John.

"Yeah, but those are a minority," said Virgil. "And it's all kinds of rescues, too. Land, sea, air, space. They beat us every time."

"Dumb luck, that's what it is," said Gordon bitterly.

"Or staged," said Alan.

Everyone fell silent before turning to look at the youngest Tracy.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Scott.

"Well…think about it," said Alan. "As Virgil said, they beat us to the situation at the last second every time. It's like they wait until we're almost there and then cut in to save the day."

"And like John said, they're doing it to make us look bad so they can get all the work," said Gordon.

"Yeah, but…" Alan continued. "There's only five of them. And the world is a huge place. We've had situations in Istanbul, Mumbai and California and they always still get there."

"What are you getting at, Alan?" asked Jeff. "That doesn't explain what you mean by staged?"

"Come on, Dad, it's obvious," said Alan. "They're the ones causing the accidents and then holding out of the way for us to come and then show us up."

"That's quite an accusation, Alan," remarked Grandma who'd just entered and caught the tail end of what was being said.

"Actually, I'd be inclined to agree," said Gordon.

"You would, wouldn't you, Gordo," remarked Virgil.

"Of course!" said Gordon loudly. "It's the only rational explanation."

"I'd also agree if not for the fact we'd need evidence to prove it," said Scott. "And unless we can…" He trailed off as Alan and Gordon were forced into silence in defeat.

Jeff sighed heavily. "Go to bed, boys. It's late," he said. "Stressing yourselves out over this won't solve anything."

Virgil and Scott were quick to agree and got up to leave the lounge. Alan and Gordon on the other hand were not.

"Dad, you can't deny that Alan's idea is plausible?" Gordon said.

"I'm not dismissing it, Gordon," Jeff replied. "But Scott's right. We can't prove that the Thunderbolts are behind it."

Gordon sighed in defeat and got up to leave too.

"Go on, Alan," said Grandma. "That goes for you as well."

"Awh, Grandma, I'm not tired," Alan protested. He grabbed his portable game console. "Can't I just sit here in silence and play games?"

"You can play games in your room if you want to," said Grandma. "But you also must rest. Now, off you go."

Reluctantly, Alan left after Gordon leaving Grandma and Jeff alone with John's hologram.

"I guess I'd better try and get some sleep as well?" John asked.

Jeff nodded. "You might find it easier up there, son."

John wished he could. "I doubt it will be," he said glumly. "Goodnight, Dad. Night, Grandma."

Jeff got up and went out onto the balcony to look out across the ocean that glistened in the Moonlight. Normally it was a cool and comforting sight, but he wasn't feeling it right now.

"The boys are taking it badly, aren't they?" said Grandma.

"Oh, yes, Mother," said Jeff. "They certainly are."

Brains then appeared. "T-Trying to take your mind off things?" he asked.

"Certainly trying to, Brains," replied Jeff. "What's new with The Mechanic?"

"N-No change whatsoever, Mr Tracy," said Brains. "He's b-been completely motionless this whole time. I'd have thought after almost a w-week we'd have seen some sign of improvement."

Jeff leant on the railing and sighed. "I take it you're staying with him?"

"Y-Yes," said Brains.

"Oh, Brains, you'll never get a good night's sleep if you sleep in your lab," said Grandma. "Let MAX and Braman monitor The Mechanic. They can inform you straight away if there are any developments."

"I appreciate your k-kindness as always, Mrs Tracy," said Brains. "But I would r-rather stay with him. If he does wake up. I w-want to be there for him."

"If that's what you want, Brains, go for it," said Jeff.

Brains nodded. He bid them goodnight and then left to return to his lab.

Grandma too headed off for bed, leaving Jeff alone on the balcony to think things over. He lost track of how long he was out there for but his thoughts were finally interrupted by the sound of an approaching aircraft. It was Thunderbird Shadow, returning to base after a patrol. Unlike the others, Kayo was still able to perform her duties as Head of Security and she was still working with the GDF to try and get any leads on The Cabal. And it was as Thunderbird Shadow zipped over the house to land on its cliff-platform that Jeff had a sudden thought. Hmmmm, he thought, scratching his chin. I wonder…

Flight 698 was heading from Singapore to Los Angeles. Amongst the passengers was a man who divided opinions wherever he went: Warren Grafton. Despite having not been seen a lot since his humiliation on TV, he still had his global businesses to run. Normally he'd travel between continents on a private plane, but he'd not been able to get a new high-tech one for long distance flight following the loss of his previous one in the ice-storm which Scott had refused to recover. However, until he was able to get a new one from somewhere, he had to travel commercially - which he hated despite the luxury of First Class.

"Anything I can get you, Mr Grafton?" asked one of the stewardesses.

"No…thank you," replied Grafton, not taking his eyes off his holographic newspaper.

Today there were five other people travelling in First Class. One of them was Bernard Bottomsly and being the person that he was, had his eyes on the lone female who was travelling. "Is this your first time flying?" he asked.

The woman didn't answer because she was reading a book.

"Don't you worry, Bernard Bottomsly will look after you," he continued. "If you get scared, you can-"

"I'm not holding your hand, thank you," the woman said.

Bottomsly was taken aback by this, but shrugged it off. "I, er, see. So…what's your name?"

Grafton, irritated by Bottomsly's chat-up attempts, cut in. "Will you shut up already?" he snapped. "Can't you see she's not interested?"

Bottomsly began grumbling to himself and went off in a sulk.

The woman turned her seat towards Grafton. "Thank you," she said.

"Don't mention it," Grafton grunted. He'd tried to get back to his newspaper only for him to catch the eyes of the woman and he found himself being unable to look away. A young brunette woman with hazel eyes was looking back at him. He felt a strange feeling come over him, like he was falling in love or something.

"You're Warren Grafton, aren't you?" the woman said.

"Y-Yes…I am," Grafton replied, a little surprised. Due to his reputation, people hardly ever came near him.

"I'm a big supporter of your work, Mr Grafton," the woman continued. "Your advances in medical and technological research are unprecedented. You deserve more credit than what you get."

Grafton put his tablet down, feeling flattered by the compliment. "Why, thank you, Miss…erm?"

"Wanda. Call me Wanda." She held out her hand.

"Charmed, I'm sure," said Grafton. He took her hand and kissed it. "So…tell me, Wanda. Where are you heading?"

"To LA and then transfer on another flight to New York tomorrow," said Wanda.

"You don't say!" Grafton replied. "I am heading there tomorrow too. Tomorrow's a big night for me."

"Is it?" said Wanda with interest. "Tell me more."

"I'm going to the New Jersey EXPO Site," said Grafton. "I will be unveiling something very special for the whole world to see."

Wanda's eyes lit up excitedly. "No way! When is it? I must come along and see!"

"8:30pm tomorrow night, New York time," said Grafton.

"I'll be there," said Wanda.

Grafton smiled, but before he could say another word there came a sharp BANG which rocked the airliner and caused everyone aboard to cry out in alarm.

Alarms began wailing in the cockpit. The pilots began checking what was going on.

"Engine Number Two is out!" said the co-pilot. "Engine Three is failing!"

"Shut it down!" ordered the Captain. "We can maintain course and height at the cost of a little speed so long as the other engines hold out."

But they didn't. Engine Four soon cut out as well leaving only Engine One running. Most of the passengers began to panic as the airliner began to gradually lose altitude and began to drop down towards the Pacific far below.

"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" the pilot said urgently into the radio. "This is Flight 698 heading for Los Angeles. We are down three engines and slowly losing height. We need assistance! Does anyone copy? Over!"

The cry for help was immediately picked up by Thunderbird 5 and John relayed it to Tracy Island. "The airliner can stay in the air on just one engine but not for too long," he was saying.

"Can they reach an airport and make an emergency landing?" asked Jeff.

"They're about three-hundred miles off the Californian Coast," said John. "But I wouldn't risk an emergency landing on one engine."

"Then we need to either get aboard to fix it or be on stand-by to assist with the emergency landing," said Jeff. "Scott - on your way." But Scott didn't move. "Scott…did you hear me?" Jeff barked. "I said, on your way!"

"I heard you, Dad," said Scott. "But is there any point? The Thunderbolts will beat us to it again."

Jeff glared at his eldest son. "Scott - they can't deal with every emergency! For all we know they might be busy with other situations. If we can help these people, then we will! Now, launch Thunderbird 1! That's an order!"

Scott gritted his teeth. "Yes…Dad…" he said before reluctantly heading over to the revolving wall panel. He grabbed the lamps and swivelled round before heading down the express elevator and having his uniform attached to his body. He then went out on the extendable walkway before climbing into Thunderbird 1 which was then taken up the diagonal tunnel to the launching bay. As it arrived, the swimming pool was just opening ready for it to take-off.

5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

Thunderbird 1's engines roared as it was pushed up off the pad and through the gap where the pool had been and then soared up and away from Tracy Island. "Thunderbird 1 is go…" said Scott with no enthusiasm in his voice whatsoever.

Virgil joined Jeff as they watched Thunderbird 1 disappear. "Dad…no disrespect or anything, but…is it not a waste of time and fuel sending Thunderbird 1 out on another potentially wasted mission?"

"It's our job, Virgil," said Jeff sternly. "The Thunderbolts will slip-up. I just know it. And we'll be there when they do."

Flight 698 was struggling to maintain altitude with its one remaining engine. Equally the pilots were having just as much trouble trying to keep it on course. The rudder and ailerons weren't functioning properly either. Inside the main cabins the passengers were getting very anxious. All had strapped themselves in under instruction.

"It's no good!" the co-pilot said to the Captain. "We're not gonna make it!"

The Captain looked grimly out at the ocean which was getting closer by the second. He knew what was to happen next was inevitable. "International Rescue said they'd be here…" he said quietly to himself. Then he grabbed the microphone to talk to everyone and to utter the words he hoped not to say. "This is the Captain…brace for impact!"

This caused a series of terrified cries amongst the passengers.

"Brace for impact?!" spluttered Grafton. "ISN'T SOMEONE GONNA DO SOMETHING?!"

The pilots gripped the joysticks tightly and waited for the end.

It was at this very moment that Thunderbird 1 arrived on the scene. Scott looked down at the airliner. It was getting dangerously close to the surface of the water. He looked around. "Odd," he remarked. "Where are the Thunderbolts?"

John then came over the radio. "Scott, why are you sitting there?!" he snapped. "That plane's gonna hit the water in less than a minute!"

"But…the Thunderbolts…?" Scott began.

"AREN'T HERE!" John bellowed, taking Scott completely by surprise. "YOU ARE ON THE SCENE! SAVE THOSE PEOPLE!"

Scott, still in shock at John's outburst, quickly pulled himself together. "F-A-B!" he said and dived down after the airliner. He flew overhead and prepared to fire the grapple cable. "Flight 698, this is International Rescue. Hang on. I'm gonna pull you up."

"About time you got here!" said the co-pilot rudely.

"Sam, cut that out!" barked the Captain. "Good to see you, International Rescue."

Scott got a lock and fired the grapple onto the top of the airliner's cockpit. Then he applied power to Thunderbird 1's VTOL thrusters and it began to pull it out of its descent. But he was only able to slow the descent more than it had been and found he didn't quite have the power to pull it up again. "Okay, this is tougher than I thought," he said. "Thunderbird 5, when's Thunderbird 2 getting here? I could really use some back-up."

"Thunderbird 2 isn't coming, Scott," said John. "Brains is repairing one of the thrusters. You're it."

"I'm IT?!" Scott exclaimed. He looked around in alarm. The weight of Flight 698 was getting too much for Thunderbird 1's engines. "My motors are getting overloaded!"

Inside the airliner, the passengers were getting more scared by the second. Despite them having almost levelled out, they were still getting dangerously close to the surface of the Pacific. Looking out of the windows, the ocean looked to be only a few metres below them. Several people, mostly children and a few women began to cry in fear as mothers held their children close. Married couples held each other. Bernard Bottomsly, who had come back to his seat close to Wanda, offered his hand to comfort her, but Wanda turned her chair away, denying him it.

Grafton seemed more agitated than everyone else. "SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!" he bellowed. "I AM TOO IMPORTANT TO DIE!"

Scott struggled against Thunderbird 1's controls. "Come on…come on…come ON!" he roared, trying to get whatever power he could out of the engines. But it was no good. And John then delivered the news that he had been expecting. "Thunderbird 1…you've got company."

Scott looked up and saw three familiar identical objects heading towards him. He sighed and groaned as Thunderbolts 1, 2 and 4 appeared.

"Get out of the way, International Rescue," said the voice from Thunderbolt 1. "We'll take it from here. Thunderbolt 2, Thunderbolt 4. Get underneath and lift!"

Thunderbolts 2 and 4 moved in to carry out the instructions. Thunderbolt 2 went underneath the front of the aircraft whilst Thunderbolt 4 went under the tail section. Both clamped their hands around the fuselage and used the combined power of their thrusters. To start pushing the airliner up.

Scott, admitting defeat, released his grapple and moved out of the way to let the Thunderbolts continue the rescue.

Realising they were now starting to rise again, the fear and panic slowly began to leave the passengers and when they saw Thunderbolt 1 out of the windows, they began to cheer and shout with excitement.

"Don't worry, everyone," said Thunderbolt 1. "We've got you."

Grafton grinned with delight when he saw Thunderbolt 1, and was even more delighted when he saw Thunderbird 1 retreating and reeling its cable back in. He began to laugh loudly. "Oh, YES! YES! YES! TAKE THAT, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR RESCUE PEOPLE! THUNDERBOLTS ARE THE REAL DEAL! HA-HA!"

"Pathetic, you say?" asked Wanda.

"Of course," said Grafton. "You agree?"

"Totally," she replied with an approving smile and nod.

This made Grafton fill with even more glee than before.

Scott was cursing under his breath as he watched the Thunderbolts fly away with the airliner. He then watched as Thunderbolt 1 came to hover in front of him. "Why do you people bother?" it asked.

"Because you might not always be there in time?" Scott replied. "That airliner would have crashed into the water if I hadn't come along. You were nowhere in sight."

"We would have made it," said Thunderbolt 1. "We always will. Now…go."

Scott swore again under his breath and turned Thunderbird 1 to fly back towards Tracy Island. Once again, the Thunderbolts had taken the saving from International Rescue. "One day you'll mess up," he said to himself with gritted teeth. "Not today…but one day…you will!"

Thunderbolt 1 watched as Thunderbird 1 disappeared into the distance before turning to follow the other two carrying the damaged airliner.

The Thunderbolts carried Flight 698 all the way to Los Angeles International Airport where the emergency services were waiting. Despite the damage, the crew were able to lower the undercarriage allowing Thunderbolts 2 and 4 to bring it down to land safely on the tarmac. The evacuation was swift with the inflatable slides being released to allow everyone to get off.

Grafton led the grateful passengers in thanking the Thunderbolts for saving their lives. "What would we have done without you?" he said to Thunderbolt 1. "At least you're reliable unlike International Rescue."

"Just doing our jobs," responded Thunderbolt 1. It turned to the others "Thunderbolts, return to base."

The three mech-suits lifted off from the tarmac and headed off back into the sky a chorus of whoops, claps and cheers from the passengers and crew.

Grafton then stood on a box and addressed them all. "We are all here because of their bravery. I would therefore like to extend an invitation for you all to come and meet them properly in person. Tomorrow, at the New York EXPO."

"Where you're going to unveil your special project, Mr Grafton?" asked Wanda.

Grafton grinned broadly. "Indeed, Wanda, my darling," he said. "And believe me - you'll all be amazed at what I have to show to the world."

Wanda blushed as Grafton stroked her cheek.

"HEY! STOP RIGHT THERE!"

All eyes turned towards the airliner. The Airport Police were running with guns drawn. A mysterious figure in a completely black outfit was just spotted disappearing behind a Fire Truck. The Police tried to pursue but soon lost the suspect.

"What's going on?" the Captain asked the Chief of Police.

The Chief's response was grim. "Looks like you had a stowaway on board, Captain," he said. "One of my boys found several electrical wires cut inside the plane. Someone tried to make you crash."

The Captain's blood ran cold.

Scott returned to Tracy Island in a steaming rage. "Why do we bother?" he asked out loud as he entered the lounge where everyone else was located. "I had this mission! And yet they still took it from us!"

"You still got there before they did," Virgil pointed out.

Scott then rounded on Brains. "Brains, I get the ships need maintenance and all, but couldn't you have left Thunderbird 2's repairs until later?"

"G-Given the vibrations that Virgil reported to me, n-no, Scott," replied Brains simply. "And besides, it needed to remain here as p-part of the plan."

Scott was confused. "Plan? What plan?"

"Take a look around, bro," said Alan. "Who's not here with us?"

Scott looked around the lounge. Jeff was at his desk. Grandma stood near him. Alan, Virgil and Gordon were all on different sofas and Brains had been standing by the hologram table. "Kayo?" he realised.

"Exactly, son," said Jeff. He nodded towards the hologram video image being shown from the projector in the table. "Take a look."

Scott came round for a look. He blinked in surprise. It was showing the back ends of Thunderbolts 1, 2 and 4 heading along above the surface of the ocean near the coast. "W-What is this?" he asked.

"A good old game of stealth-stalking," remarked Gordon.

Scott then realised that the footage was live and coming from the camera on the nose of Thunderbird Shadow. "Wait, she's managed to find and shadow the Thunderbolts?"

"Indeed she has, Scott," said Brains. "I've g-given her Mini-MAX in the hopes he might be able to access areas that perhaps she cannot."

Scott suddenly felt a little more at ease. "At last," he said. "Oh…and sorry for getting snappy with you, Brains."

Brains understood and wasn't upset. "D-Don't worry about it, Scott," he said kindly. "You were in a state of f-frustration. I totally understand."

That made Scott feel even better.

Thunderbolts 1, 2 and 4 made their way along the coastline of California towards where their secret headquarters was located. As they approached a cliff, part of it began to open to allow them to enter one after the other before closing up again. None of their sensors had detected that an object had been following them. The cloaked object attached itself to the side of the cliff a few metres along from where the secret door was located.

The cockpit canopy slid back and a cloaked Kayo clambered out. She clambered along to where the opening of an air duct was located. She checked inside for any security measures. To her surprise, there were none. No security measures? Kayo thought to herself. Sloppy. You wouldn't catch us making such an error. She decided not to risk going in. The duct was narrow and she did not want to risk getting stuck let alone fall into a concealed trap. She therefore activated Mini-MAX. "Okay, Mini. Do your thing," she said.

Mini-MAX gave a little warble and headed inside the duct to begin examining the concealed underground complex whilst Kayo observed from the safety of the outside. "Thunderbird Shadow to base. Mini-MAX is in." Kayo was using a secure channel so that nobody could pick it up. She used her wrist controller to give Mini-MAX instructions whilst the live feed from Mini-MAX's camera eye was relayed to Kayo's helmet display as well as the table on Tracy Island and up to Thunderbird 5 so John could view it as well.

"K-Kayo," Brains said. "The initial scans that Mini is sending us is s-showing a large chamber about thirty metres along the next right air duct. Could you send him down there to t-take a look?"

"Already on it, Brains," said Kayo. even though the channel was secure, Kayo and Brains were still talking in hushed tones. They had no need to but it was just a natural instinct.

Mini-MAX soon headed down the duct and reached a grate. It wasn't wide enough for him to get through the gaps were wide enough to see through.

Everyone in the lounge leant forward at what they could see. There were the Thunderbolt mechs. But it wasn't just the five of them either. There were at least three sets of five with more in the background being made.

"It's like a factory production line!" said Gordon.

"Making multiple versions to send out into locations around the world so whenever there's trouble, they can always be close by…" said Virgil, letting his voice trail off.

"Well that's it then, we're finished!" said Scott, slumping back into his seat in despair.

Jeff let out a sigh. "I have to be honest, boys. What these guys are doing is quite ingenious. This will speed up response times. I hate to say it but…I'm impressed with their ingenuity."

The brothers all wanted to protest this, but try as they might, none of them could think of an argument. They didn't say it, but they felt inclined to agree.

It was at that moment that John noticed something. "Hang on, guys, I'm detecting two life-signs in the chamber."

"I see them too, John," said Kayo. "Hopefully Mini can get us a look at them. I'll activate his camera and microphones so he can record what's being said as well."

Within seconds they began to hear voices. Ones that they recognised all too well. "Are you satisfied with my work?"

"Your engineering is always up to scratch, Noel. You know that. The Thunderbolts have proven to be better than we could have hoped for."

At the same time, Mini-MAX's camera caught sight of the people the voices belonged to and two equally familiar people appeared on the hologram screen which made everyone tense up immediately.

"The Hood!" exclaimed Virgil.

"Techno!" gasped Alan.

"The Cabal!" rumbled Scott.

A few moments of silence followed before Jeff spoke again. "I would officially like to retract my previous statement."

"Of course it had to be someone with a grudge against us!" fumed Gordon. "It all makes perfect sense!"

"Actually, G-Gordon, it doesn't," said Brains. "Those Thunderbolts are incredibly advanced p-pieces of technology. It would cost a lot of m-money and resources to build all of those suits."

"And they only recently escaped from prison," said Grandma. "Meaning they must have a partner of some kind."

"Whoever it is, they must be very rich," said Kayo.

Whilst all this had been said, John had decided to take a moment to research the location that Kayo's signal was coming from, and what he saw sent chills down his spine. "You aren't wrong, Kayo," he said.

"What do you mean, John?" asked Kayo.

"I've just located where you are, Kayo," said John. He sent an image of a large house located on top of the cliffs just along from where Kayo was located. "Malibu Point. And take a wild guess who lives in that house?"

Silence fell again whilst everyone tried to think who the house belonged to. But then John brought up a piece of live security footage from a camera he'd managed to get EOS to hack. It showed a car pulling up outside the house. The door was opened and yet another familiar and detested figure emerged from it resulting in multiple loud gasps of shock. "GRAFTON?!"