Monday 3 October; 2300 hours.

Dear Diary

I am worried.

No, more than that. I have to say I am scared. I can tell you, diary, because I know you won't tell anyone else. I can't have my happy-go-lucky reputation ruined, now can I?

I can tell jokes and play pranks, and still get laughs just the same as always, but recently the laughs end too quickly. The lightness never quite reaches my brothers' eyes, and I am wondering if they are all feeling the same way as me? The strain is there. Scott acts relentlessly cheerful and up-beat; but it is all a sham. Underneath he is worried and stressed. He and Virgil have had words on more than one occasion recently. Scott's state of mind is leading him to try a bit too hard to be the hero; to be another dad; both in the sense of being our father figure, and in the sense of being a hero. Virgil is convinced he'll get himself killed soon if he doesn't let up.

Virgil would know.

Virgil is as laid back and cheerful as he has always been, but he is checking up on us all the time. Are we safe? Are we eating properly? Are we sleeping? Are we following IR safety regulations? Are we sure we are fit and well? No headache or pain anywhere? It's his way of coping with the increased stress levels around here lately. Virgil is the big-hearted brother who always has a hearing ear and a comforting word for anyone with a problem, and he has always had shoulders broad enough for all of us; Scott included. That's a lot for one man to take when he is having enough trouble keeping himself comforted, right?

John has always been content to stay up on five most of the time and check in with us regularly. In fact, he has been a holographic presence in our lives for much of every day. Recently though, he has started to come down to the island every night so that he can spend time with us in person, sleep in his own bed and eating breakfast with us in the morning before returning to the station for the day-only shift. I don't think he has slept up on five for almost three weeks now.

Don't get me wrong, it is great to have him as a presence we can see properly. See and touch and smell and hug; but it means he is also feeling the strain, even up on five. He needs the physical presence of his family. Almost as if he is afraid that he might lose us if he is not here with us.

I can appreciate that. I can't stand being alone. How John survived in that tin-can of his before Eos came along, I cannot imagine. He seems normal on the surface, but for John to literally halve the time he spends on his Thunderbird; no, he is stressed out too.

Then there is Alan.

Alan the cheerful chipmunk is, on the surface, exactly the same as ever. In fact, between us it is Alan and I that generally manage to keep our older brothers from becoming too bogged down with the events in the wider world; especially those events that unfailingly involve International Rescue.

Alan has always been the cheerful chatterbox, asking endless questions, unfailingly upbeat and positive. He had not changed outwardly, and I thought, foolishly, that perhaps he was too sheltered to have been affected by the prevailing gloom of the rest of us.

That is, until I found him in his room this morning, weeping as if his heart was broken. When I asked him what was up, he didn't seem to know.

Of course, I comforted him as best I could, and just engaged him in conversation in the hope that whatever his problem was would emerge in due course. It did, sort of. Alan too has been affected by the actions of the Hood, the Mechanic and those two new lunatic assistants of the Hood, the Chaos Crew. Alan, however, is blessed, (or do I mean cursed?) with a very vivid imagination. He was speculating to me on the many what-if scenarios that could occur with the Hood paired up with that dangerous pair. Especially since the Hood learned the location of Tracy Island, according to Alan, the sky is the limit. And International Rescue has global freedom based on the fact that we are a rescue-only organization that possess no offensive weapons.

We have our shields, but they only hide us from scanners and radar. We would be wide open to any kind of invasion or missile attack. The poor kid has been having nightmares about it ever since the Chaos Crew first came to our attention.

I suspect that concern for what the Hood might have in store for us in the future is at the back of a lot of the stress and worry that has been felt around here lately.

Of course, diary, I left the best until last. Kayo is angry. Not with us. She behaves normal with us, but she is angry at the Hood. She is beyond angry because he keeps slipping out of her grasp no matter what she does. She now has that GDF character working with her, but he seems to be taking his lead from her, rather than the other way around. Still the Hood and his minions keep making their attacks, each time bolder and bolder, more and more audacious; as if proving a point. That they can take the GDF any time and daring us to do our best.

The face-offs between Scott and Kayo on her risk-taking have been getting louder of late. He seems to have finally resigned himself to her self-appointed role within International Rescue, although believe me, he still doesn't like it.

All in all, the atmosphere on Tracy Island has been strained. Something will have to snap sooner or later. It feels almost like a storm is building. When will it break?

I don't think I have a joke or a prank that will make us all feel better. If something or someone doesn't give soon, I don't want to think about what will happen.

Gordon

Friday 7 October; 1600 hours.

Dear Diary

It happened Wednesday morning. The storm that was brewing? It erupted right here at home. You know diary, we have never really been the sort of family to fight very much. We have had the odd disagreement over the years, but never anything serious. We are all too fond of one another to be willing to do or say anything to hurt one another's feelings. Until Wednesday.

It started over something small, as these things apparently tend to do. Virgil saw Scott rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and told him he was tired and ought to get a bit more rest. Scott told Virgil he was deluded, and thus the fire was started. One by one the rest of us were drawn in. John, Alan and I standing by refusing to take sides but once the argument was in full flow, we were accused of not caring and not being serious about our roles within the organization or the family if we were not willing to either remind Scott that he is not Superman and that he should go to bed for more rest, or on the other hand to remind Virgil who actually calls the shots around here.

It was in our own attempt to defend ourselves against two stressed out brothers, whilst at the same time trying not to give in to our own stress that things started to go rapidly downhill.

Within twenty minutes, the two-way disagreement between Scott and Virgil had snowballed into a five-way free-for-all that came closer than any of us like to admit to physical fighting.

Sally Ruth Tracy is one brave old lady!

She must have been heartbroken when she came into the kitchen to find all of us at each other's throats the way she did, and it was grandma who actually stopped the fight before it became physical by stepping between Scott and John and between Virgil and myself.

I think I would have preferred it if she had come in looking angry and shouting and snarling at us, but she did not. She stepped between us all and folded her arms and merely looked very disappointed.

"What would your father say if he were here and had witnessed this ugly scene?" she asked us all in a sad voice.

None of us could believe what grandma did then. She called Eos and asked her to transmit a message to Colonel Casey of the GDF, giving her the news that due to personal circumstances, International Rescue would be standing down for seventy-two hours. When Scott opened his mouth to protest, she silenced him with a glare that I am still trying to copy! She sent each of us to our own rooms and told us she would bring each of us our breakfast in our rooms, but that we were grounded to our rooms until dinnertime at seven that evening. She expressed the hope that we would each use the time to work out what had gone wrong between us all. Then we were very firmly dismissed.

Believe me diary, grandma may be an old woman, but she is no feeble old crone, if you will excuse the phrase. She is one scary lady when she is riled.

We all spent the day in our own rooms.

Even Scott.

When we came down to dinner that evening, we were all rather embarrassed to find Lady Penelope and Parker were dining with us. It turned out that the Colonel had contacted Lady Penelope after receiving Eos' message to ask her to make sure that everything was alright with us all. Penny arrived here on Tracy island just before midday and found that the oh so brave and courageous Tracy boys, heroes of International Rescue were all undergoing punishment by their grandmother for fighting.

It was over dinner, and in front of Penny and Parker that grandma proceeded to give us the third degree, and ask us what, if anything, we had learned from our `time-out' session?

We got the point all right. Grandma had seen from the start that we were all over-worked and seriously in need of a break. Fear over what might happen in the future with the Hood, the Mechanic and that crazy Chaos Crew, coupled with the fact that we were all still very young, with Scott as the eldest still only twenty-six, without the depth of knowledge and experience to be able to keep going through such difficulties whilst still keeping things in perspective.

We were starkly reminded once again of what we had truly lost when dad disappeared. Not just his physical presence, but his personality; his determination to succeed whatever the cost, his wide-ranging depth of experience, his reassuring manner, his absolute faith in all of us that had kept us grounded and kept us focused in the beginning. Without dad at the helm, we were doing well, but starting to lose sight of the bigger picture. We were starting to lose our way.

We talked about ways to combat the problem. Make time for personal holidays, to step back. It was universally decided that Scott's biggest problem is that he is shouldering too much responsibility, what with being the head of the family, the chief of International Rescue and running Tracy Enterprises as well was far too much for one man.

Grandma will become the new official head of International Rescue. Scott will remain as the Team Leader and field commander. Grandma will be the one to hold debriefings, and thus will have the right of veto. The one, aside from Virgil and Brains our two medics, who has the right to ground one of us for being too weak or exhausted.

The other suggestion was made by Lady Penelope, was that perhaps John would be the better man to take over the running of Tracy Enterprises. He has a head for the kind of details that is necessary in a role like that, something Scott lacks. He is also the cleverest one of us by a long way, and from Thunderbird Five, nothing gets past him.

Surprisingly, John looked almost excited at the prospect, and Scott looked relieved. After all, anything Johnny needs to know or any advice he can still ask Scott. As far as official meetings go, as one of the named directors of the company, Lady Penelope has volunteered to step into that role whenever a physical presence is required. She certainly does know how to get things done.

And so here we are.

John is now running Tracy Enterprises, to Scott's enormous relief. Grandma is loving her new role for International Rescue and has claimed dad's desk for her own.

It suits her.

So, we are due back on duty tomorrow morning. We have had three days' rest and I for one feel so much better for it.

In my entry on Monday, I see that I stated that I was scared. Scared of the future, and what it may bring. I am still…apprehensive about it, but not scared anymore.

I would love to see the Chaos Crew face up to grandma Tracy!

Bravo Grandma! May she live forever!

Gordon