Aah, another new episode - another new story. And just one more eppie to go until the mid season break. From its trailer, I get the feeling it's going to end on a bit of a cliffie too!

Before the plot bunnies get too excited about that, though, here's the result of their latest nibblings from Under Pressure. Now, so far, Ned has been rescued by two of the boys, and thought each time they were both a bit young for the job. So, let's see what he thinks of Virgil!

Oh, and just to say that, depending on how this final episode goes on Saturday, this story might well be needing a sequel. You'll see what I mean when you reach its ending.

Enjoy!

What Lies Beneath

Ned Tedford wasn't a man who was easily impressed. If truth be told, he wasn't exactly happy now. All right, so he was safely out of the deep sea rig that had almost become his tomb, but - well, bobbing like a cork in the middle of the ocean wasn't much fun either. Especially since he had no idea on how much longer he'd have to wait to be picked up. To him, at least, he'd merely swapped one need to be rescued for another.

Still, to say anything to complain would only sound churlish. He and his precious Gladys were safe. That was all that mattered.

Besides, those boys from International Rescue still had their hands full, trying to get those toxic waste canisters off that rig before they imploded. And, on a more personal level, there was always the chance that Little Miss Attitude would be up there with them too, all ready to give him another lecture in manners and gratitude.

He had to admit, too, that... yes, he was grateful. Certainly more so than the first time he'd had to call on the planet's unlikeliest saviours. Yet again, they'd heard his call for help, and answered it with no thought for their own safety. So yes, as hard as it was to impress him sometimes, he'd gladly make this an exception.

"I tell you, Gladys, I'll never be happier to get us back on dry land. But credit where it's due. These kids from International Rescue aren't such a bad lot."

With just his beloved geranium for company, he wasn't expecting a reply. So when a deep voice provided one instead, it did give him just a bit of a jump.

"Well, Ned, we aim to please."

Recovering himself, Ned joined his most trusted companion in an approving nod. Yes, he'd placed that voice now, he was the pilot for that Thunderbird Two... the one the other lad had kept calling on to help him. Now he sounded like someone you could trust your life to, and - by heck! He looked it too!

Staring at the hologram in front of him, he found himself nodding again, to everything else that the voice it was attached to was saying. Whoever this lad was... well, he wasn't about to argue with him. Even if he hadn't seen this Thunderbird Two that had carried him and his Gladys to safety, he'd felt its power. Strength that was physically matched by its pilot. All right, so he was still a bit on the young side, but... crikey, he was as big on his own as those two other littl'uns put together!

"Just a few more minutes, Ned, while we secure these canisters, then I'll be getting you and Gladys back to good old terra firma... so just hold on, and I'll be back for you as soon as I can, okay?"

A confident smile made it impossible for Ned not to return it. Aye, now this was a lad he could relate to!

"Righto, son. Aye, we've... um, no problems with that, have we, Gladys?"

Whether intentionally or not, he'd made this bear of a lad laugh. For so many reasons, it was a reassuring sight. Before he could enjoy it further, though, another hologram popped up beside his new friend's. For just a moment, Ned could see a fleeting resemblance between them. The same high cheekbones. The same colouring to their eyes, and the friendly warmth within them. But sun blond hair against deepest black? No, there was no way these two could be related.

'More like Goldiboy and his very own bear.'

Smiling at a thought that he'd keep very much to himself, Ned then listened with growing interest to what that Goldiboy was saying.

"All secure here, Virgil... and Colonel Casey's team's on their way to pick up this cargo..."

Virgil? A strapping lad like that was called... Virgil? Well, again, Ned Ted Tedford wasn't about to comment on that. As he'd been so dryly reminded, his best friend was a flippin' geranium! Instead, he found himself increasingly intrigued by their ongoing discussion.

"...and I'd imagine they'll be real interested in what this Hydrexler outfit's been up to..."

"...yeah, I'll say... so, you okay to take care of that, while I get back to Ned?"

"...sure thing, and... hey, what d'ya think, Virg? You reckon Rocket Boy's gonna believe it when we tell him who we just rescued?"

"...for the second time around...? And assuming he's still in one piece from that training session? No, I doubt it..."

"...yeah, you're right... I mean, what are the odds we'd have to rescue the same person again so soon after the first time...?"

'Do what?!'

Him? They were talking about him? Well, good manners and eavesdropping or not, Ned couldn't keep out of this any longer.

"Again? You mean you lot still remember me?"

Not just grins this time, but laughter too. And from what young Virgil said next, Ned didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted.

"Yeah, Ned, we sure do. You... uh, made quite an impression."

Reminded of that less than stellar moment, Ned wasn't sure how to react to it. Calling on International Rescue had been bad enough the first time, but to need them again to get him out of this latest disaster? No, that was just downright embarrassing. So, a bit of humbled contrition, maybe? Yes, that should do it.

"Yes, I'm... um, sorry about that. I just wasn't, you know, expecting two kids that age to come out all that way to rescue me."

'Kids' was right. Little Miss Attitude had been barely out of her teens, while Rocket Boy looked as though he was barely out of his nappies. Even now, it was hard to keep that tone of doubt out of his voice. To his relief, though, another smart but still ridiculously young boy broke into a grin that was too infectious to go unreturned.

"Hey, no problem... from deepest space to the depths of the ocean, if someone yells for help, we're still gonna get to them."

Ned couldn't disagree with that either. And with that little bit of awkwardness resolved, he could feel a grudging respect for these boys grow stronger against the prejudice of his own judgement. Before he could say anything, though, Gordon's image reached to respond to another unheard call.

"Okay, Virg, we're good to go... and I've got a ride home with Colonel Casey, so I'll see you back at the ranch."

"FAB, Gordon... okay, Ned, I'll be with you in a few minutes... I'll be re-attaching the cable, too, so you and Gladys might want to hold on to something..."

Still trying to picture what size of horse they'd need at this 'ranch' - 'pit ponies for the littl'uns, and a bloody great carthorse for young Virgil' - Ned took that advice without hesitation. As the cable made its reconnection, he held Gladys that little bit closer. Practised more of that deep breathing that young Gordon had suggested as he felt the container being lifted up again, swinging gently through the air. Gratefully listened to the deep, calm voice that assured him he was safe. Almost home.

"Okay, Ned, you're looking just fine down there... coming in to land now... hold tight, we'll be down in a jiffy..."

A bit more of a see-saw while Virgil made his final turns. Then he blinked in surprise at how gently that touch down came. Stared in admiring amazement as the biggest boltcutters he'd ever seen cut through the shell of his compartment like it was paper. Accepted the hand that guided him, and Gladys, through those last few steps to safety.

The ground beneath his feet had never felt so good. The sky above him had never looked so blue. And as often happens when relief overwhelms every other emotion, Ned Tedford's mouth engaged before his brain had the chance to stop him.

"Oh, nice job, son! A lot better than that young Rocket Boy's!"

Still focussed on securing his equipment, he'd assumed that frown on Virgil's face was one of concentration. A quiet voice soon told him otherwise.

"That 'Rocket Boy' just happens to be my brother. My other brother."

Uh-oh.

His... brother? As in... both of them? Rocket Boy, and... suddenly, uh-oh just didn't seem to cover it.

With just a flimsy geranium to protect him, Ned swallowed - hard. Braced himself for further reprisals that, to his relief, never came. Instead, he watched in puzzled surprise as this powerhouse of a lad started to laugh again. And from Virgil Tracy, it sounded like the friendliest kind of thunder.

"Yeah, we've really gotta thank you for that... if Squirt, Shortstop and Astro Nut don't get him going, then being called that just never fails..."

Reminded of more serious matters, Virgil then held out a hand that, to Ned's still uneasy eyes, was the size of a small shovel. Quite a grip to it, too, that made him relax again, and manage a sheepish grin in return. If there was one thing he respected, it was a good, proper handshake.

"Well, Ned, I need to get back to our base, in case there's another call," Virgil said at last, nodding towards the distant blur of an approaching helicopter. "But don't worry, I've... uh, put in a call to a good friend of mine... she'll make sure you get home from here... and hopefully she'll get you and Gladys a nice new job too... a lot safer than this one... okay?"

"That sounds good to me, son," Ned grinned, still feeling he had more reason than just good manners to add a carefully considered afterthought. "And no offence to you, or any of your brothers, but... well, here's hoping I don't have to call on any of you again."

If he'd known Virgil Tracy a bit better, he'd have seen how that calm, easy smile just hadn't quite reached his eyes. As it was, Ned made good on one last handshake, then stepped back to watch him stride back to what had to be the biggest flying pick up truck he'd ever seen. Maybe not the prettiest, mind, but the means of his salvation that he would still regard with the respect it deserved.

And that, he quietly vowed, went just as much to Virgil, and young Gordon, too, and... well, however many more of them there were. And, of course, to that little lad called Alan who, in his eyes, would always be his Rocket Boy.

Settling into his seat, Virgil could just about see Ned as a tiny speck on a deserted runway. And while he instinctively returned the miner's cheerful wave, he just wished he could do so more happily. Because something that Gordon had mentioned earlier just wouldn't stop bugging him.

'...it was like that runaway train that Scott and Brains had to stop in Japan... one minute, everything was fine, the next it was moving again... like it had a mind of its own...'

Any hopes that Virgil might have had for a 'quiet chat' with his eldest brother ended as soon as he and Gordon entered the den. Alan's salvo of questions hit them before either could sit down, let alone ask him about his equally eventful day.

"...you had to go rescue that miner I took off that asteroid?! The guy who called me Rocket Boy? Hey, did he still have that plant with him? What was its name, Gladly, or something like that... yeah, Kayo really cut him down to size when he tried to... oww!"

"See, Alan? That's why I told you to stay off that ankle... and to keep this ice pack on it," Scott reminded him, in the tone that suggested herding a thousand cats would be a damn sight easier than keeping one little brother under control.

Still, at least he had Smother Brother Two back now, rushing past him to slap that ice pack back into place without even asking what it was for. Yep, if anyone could make an injured brother behave, it would always be Virgil. And if the worst came to the worst... well, he could always ask Virgil to sit on him.

"Yeah, that's a pretty nasty sprain you've got there," Virgil said at last, now well and truly in nursemaid mode as he studied the palette of bruises on his brother's ankle. And Scott wasn't at all surprised to see the frown on his face when he finally looked up again, and asked his next, inevitable question.

"So, things get a little rough in that training session?"

To his surprise, Scott didn't seem nearly so bothered by their brother's injury as he was. A broadening grin on one face, and a sheepish wince on another, soon explained why.

"Oh, no... no, the training session was fine," Scott said at last, throwing his youngest brother a glance of teasing exasperation. "No, it was running out of the gym to get to the pool that did it... wasn't it?!"

Left with no choice now but to come clean, Alan heaved a melodramatic sigh of suffering, and resigned himself to more lack of brotherly sympathy.

"Yeah, I... uh, tripped on a mannequin stand, and... hey, those things are sneaky, okay? Their stands jut out too far, and - and you just don't see them!"

"Yeah, blame a poor, defenceless dummy for you tripping over your own feet," Scott grinned, giving his hair a playful ruffle that told him just how awful that excuse had been. But then, he found his own defences left in ruins too, by a pout that took his baby brother well and truly back to babyhood.

At such times, what was a long suffering big brother to do? Well, food was usually a good start. And since the world's worst patient had really suffered enough already - yes, he knew just the thing.

"Okay, now you sit tight, and I'll go get some of those cookies that Penny sent us..."

"Yeah, I'll... uh, help you with that," Virgil offered, rising to his feet again, and giving his youngest brother his best, 'behave-or-else' glare. "And another ten minutes at least with that ice pack, okay? So, sit... and stay..."

Thoroughly enjoying the entertainment, Gordon couldn't resist making the most of it - especially since his brother had no means to get back at him.

"See, Alan? That's why we call you Astro Pup!"

Dodging the cushion that flew inevitably towards him, he was all ready to hurl it back again - another warning glare silently telling him that wasn't such a good idea. And when he saw the genuine discomfort on his brother's face, all thought of teasing him further disappeared. Instead, he settled himself at Alan's other side - the model of brotherly sympathy. And, for Alan, a nice and comfy pillow for him to lie against, and mop up all his suffering.

Watching all this from the top of the stairs, Scott felt a puzzled frown deepen into his forehead. Too subtle to be noticed by his younger brothers, Virgil's eyes, his face - in fact, his whole damn body radiated a simmering tension. And it didn't take a genius to work out that his offer to help with those cookies held a far more serious reason beneath it. So, as soon as they were out of sight, and earshot, he placed his hand on Virgil's shoulder. Asked a simple, quiet question.

"Okay, Virg, what's wrong?"

Glancing around them, just to make sure there wasn't an eavesdropping brother around, Virgil then sighed - setting a tray with several mugs and plates while he thought out what had been bugging him for the last six hours.

"I'm really hoping I'm wrong about this, Scott, but... well, you remember that train in Japan? The one where we first found out about John's coding program?"

"Yeah, how can I forget that? Especially what happened aft-"

Halfway through that reply, Scott's voice died in his throat. Memories of watching his brother, dying so horrifically in front of his eyes, set a chill in his stomach that spread through every part of his body. And even when he managed to find his voice again, it barely rose above a horrified whisper.

"Oh, my God, you're... Virg, please tell me you're not saying EOS is still acting against us?"

To his indescribable relief, Virgil was already rushing in to dispel the alarm that was threatening to turn into all out dread.

"No, Scott, I don't think it's EOS we need to worry about. She's more than proved herself to us enough now, especially when John needed help with rescuing Fischler and his crew. But you remember what he told us after she did try to kill him? How there'd be any number of people out there who'd use such programming for their own ends?"

Now it was Scott's turn to anticipate what his brother was saying - every part of the contempt he held for its conclusion ground out in four, deadly quiet words.

"You mean The Hood?"

"Yeah, exactly... if he has the means to disguise himself, like he did with Captain Hansen, and take control over every communication system in the world, you can be pretty sure he can hack just as easily into any computer program he wants."

Pausing to let all that sink in, Virgil hated himself for the extra burden of worry it had placed on Scott's shoulders. God, like he didn't have enough of that already! But there was still enough understanding in his brother's eyes to tell him to continue, because... well, there was just too much at stake now to do otherwise.

"Now, with that train, we know it was EOS, just trying to... well, as John said, just wanting to play as part of her evolution. But for that deep sea rig to do exactly the same thing... to stop like that, then start moving again, of its own accord... Scott, I don't mind telling you, I've got a real bad feeling about this..."

"Yeah, you're right... that's too much of a coincidence," Scott agreed just as quietly, his expression now mirroring the grimness of his brother's. "And it would be just The Hood's style to set us up like that... sabotaging Fireflash, then that train, and now this extractor... causing accidents that he knows only we can deal with..."

'Setting the same kind of trap he must have used against dad.'

Even if he hadn't voiced those thoughts aloud, he could tell from his brother's eyes that Virgil, as always, had read his mind - and reached the same conclusion.

"He's toying with us, Scott..."

Squaring his shoulders, Scott reacted to that comment with all the vehemence, and determination, and perfectly channelled fury that his brother needed to hear.

"Well, in that case, we need to raise our game to beat whatever it is he's playing at. Because with everything he's done to us already, I'll be damned if he does anything more to hurt us."

All well and good to say, of course - but not quite so simple to put into practice. Scott knew it, just as much as his brother. Keeping themselves safe, not to mention the rest of their family, against the Hood's inexplicable hatred for them would challenge every last measure of their skills, and tenacity, and courage. So while they listened to the sound of carefree laughter coming from the floor above them, both of them sat quietly together - and tried to figure out a way to defeat the deadliest threat they'd ever had to face.