"So Dad, I realised that the blueprints I was looking at for the leisure centre were dated five years ago."

"Go on John," Jeff Tracy frowned. As yet nothing his astronaut son had told him would arouse any suspicion, but John was a perfectionist, always had been. He was bound to be going somewhere and right now Jeff was in no mood to be playing guessing games.

"Looking at the design of the building and the materials used to build it, the structure has to have been built more than five years ago. More like twenty, at least. It only became a leisure centre five years ago."

"And what did it used to be?"

"Well I did some digging. It used to be a huge laboratory complex where they experimented with various chemicals. About ten years ago, the local press began speculating that there were some less than legal experiments going on there. When they started snooping the whole place suddenly shut down. I pulled up blueprints from the time the lab was operating, and it looks like there was a huge basement area, which doesn't appear on the current blueprints. Now apparently no building work occurred to fill in the basement, and the press were investigating too much for the government to risk removing the chemicals, so my guess is that they just sealed the place up, edited the blueprints and left it. If I'm right there could be some unstable chemicals down there bubbling away in the heat." John grinned at his father, looking incredibly pleased with himself despite the gravity of the situation. The smile was infectious and, despite the multitude of worries weighing on Jeff's mind, he couldn't help but grin back.

"Good work John, now we know what's causing this unusual heat intensity. If we can find out what chemicals are down there then the local fire department can send in their experts to neutralise the chemicals. At least we'll know what foams to use."

"Exactly. I've already contacted the local government and told them what's happening. They're digging up old records now. They're happy to share the information as I assured them it would not leak into the public domain. I also reminded them that if this fire spreads and people lose their lives and homes, they will want answers. It'll be like poking a very large stick at an incredibly big beehive."

"I never knew you could be so devious, John!" Jeff explained, equal parts surprised and impressed. "You've been taking lessons from Gordon."

"Gordon would say it's ingenuity, not deviousness." John replied, earning another smile from his father.

"Scott," called Jeff. "Did you get all that?"

"Sure did Dad," replied Scott over his communicator. "John's patching through the information for us now. The fire chief's getting his experts down here. We'll use the Mole to tunnel into the basement, drop off the fire fighters to neutralize the chemicals, then head up into the main structure. Looks like this could all be over by breakfast!"

"Good work Scott. How're your brothers' doing on that roof?" Thoughts of Alan brought Jeff back down to earth with a bump, and the previous grim set of his jaw returned.

"Virge just lowered them down on the rescue platform. Gordon's about to go out and fetch the civilian now."

"FAB boys, you know what to do. Keep me informed." Jeff watched as the faces of his sons disappeared to be replaced once again by their portraits. He breathed deeply and dropped into his seat. He sighed heavily, feeling some kind of relief gradually seep into his bones. He ran a hand back through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Tin-Tin's words earlier had only served to cement the realization that he'd been a fool. Why, however, he was still unsure. There had been reasons for his disapproval of Alan and Tin-Tin's relationship, and good reasons they had been.

But the violence of his reaction to their engagement, forbidding them to marry instead of talking things through, that had been something else entirely. He had never forbidden any of his son's to do anything. He had discouraged Scott from doing his homework in the morning before school, rather than the night before. He had shown his disapproval clearly when John had gotten his ear pierced. Spotting Virgil at the shopping mall with his friends and a cigarette hanging from his mouth had resulted in a stern lecture and much displaying of pictures of cancerous lungs. The discovery of an empty condom wrapper in Gordon's pocket when he was doing the laundry resulted in a equally adamant conversation on the reasons sex at the age of fifteen, or any age when not in a loving, respectful and committed relationship was not the best idea. By the time Alan had developed a passion for speed Jeff was almost beyond caring. Almost. But the words 'Son, I forbid you to…' had never before crossed his lips.

So why had the admission 'Dad, I'm in love and I'm getting married' caused such a severe response? All Jeff knew was that he would have to work it out before he spoke to Alan. He had let his son down so badly, and he had to understand why before he had any hope of making things right. Just as he had to reconcile his feelings about Alan and Tin-Tin's relationship. She had made it perfectly clear that she intended to try and reconcile with Alan, and Jeff had no doubt that, eventually, Alan would forgive her. Any negative feelings he had about the situation had to be purged.

Jeff opened his eyes to see his mother standing in the doorway holding a steaming mug. He smiled as she walked forward and placed it before him. The soothing aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the air. He ducked his eyes sheepishly as she sat before him and fixed him with the look that had plagued him since childhood. It was the same look she'd lain on his father when he said he hadn'tbeen out drinking with Joe the farmhand. It was also the look she'd fixed on him when he was seventeen and he'd said he hadn't been out drinking with Joe the farmhand. It was also the exact same look she'd pierced Scott with when he'd sworn blind that it was Virgil who had eaten all the apple pie, all the while trying to brush the pastry flakes from his sweater. And the outcome of each of those situations was that someone had had to face the music. Jeff resigned himself to his fate.

"I suppose Mother," Jeff began hesitantly, "that you know what happened."

"Scott came and spoke to me earlier," she replied resolutely.

"Funny, my money would have been on Virgil."

"Oh, he showed up not long after. Then after he'd finished he bumped into Gordon coming to see me on his way out."

"And I suppose John called you not five minutes later," smiled Jeff.

"Bingo. If there's one thing we have in common Jefferson, it's that we can read our sons' like a book." Grandma Tracy regarded he son meaningfully.

"And?"

" 'And' nothing Jeff. Whatever caused you to, shall we say, discourage Alan and Tin-Tin from getting married it probably isn't for the reasons you gave them, or the reasons you gave yourself. I'm not going to tell you that you over reacted, or that you handled this badly, because it's really not my place." She smiled softly at the stunned expression on Jeff's face. "Just because I poke my nose into the everyday happenings in your family Jeff, I really only do so when you get so caught up in things that you forget that you were the boys' age yourself once. This is something important Jeff. This is between father and son. And besides I'm not going to berate you for doing something that I think you already realise was a mistake."

Jeff regarded his mother despondently. His shoulders slumped and he wrung his hands together. He saw the understanding in her eyes as she watched him. She was always there, always knew what to say, whether it was to encourage him or reprimand him, she always knew just the right words and tone make him feel cherished and secure, even if she'd just given him a thorough hiding. It was just another reminder of how badly he must have hurt Alan. He was the only parent Alan had ever known, and when Alan had told him what was supposed to be the best news a father could receive, his reaction had been unforgivable.

Jeff tried to imagine how he would have felt if his father had reacted the way he had when he'd announced his engagement to Lucille. There had been many occasions when Jeff had felt that his father didn't understand him, and his dad certainly put in a less than stellar performance when dealing with Jeff's teenage tribulations at times. But Jeff couldn't imagine his father dismissing him so thoroughly if he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

"What should I do, Mom?" he almost whispered.

"I think you need to decide whether or not you'd have reacted like that if Scott had told you he was getting married to Tin-Tin. Or any of the other boys for that matter. You're a good father Jeff, a wonderful father and you're everything those boys could have asked for, particularly as they lost their mother so young. They're all fine young men that you should be proud of. But one thing I've noticed over the years is that no matter how well you deal with those boys, when it comes to dealing with Alan, all bets are off."

"What do you mean?" Jeff looked confused. He didn't treat any of his son's differently, did he?

"That's what you have to figure out for yourself, son."

Jeff nodded slowly, but whatever he had been about to say was cut off by the flashing eyes of Scott's portrait. Jeff activated the comm. connection to speak to Scott, but at the sight of Scott's snow white face the words stuck in his throat.

"Dad, it's Alan."

"Shit! Shit, Alan, hang on!"

Gordon Tracy winced against the pain burning around his waist. He was trying desperately not to look down, but his eyes were drawn to the sight of his brother hanging above a great black hole. Gordon was dangling precariously above the pit that had opened beneath their feet, saved by the rescue line he had mercifully not removed. He clung desperately to the victim, who was even now struggling against him in blind panic. Below them both, Alan gripped the victim's clothes savagely, battling to gain a firm grip as he swung dangerously above the black pit beneath them. Billowing smoke obscured any sight of the abyss beneath them, and only the top of Alan's golden head was visible.

What with the petrified screams from the man below him, the crackle of the inferno and the roar of Thunderbird 2's engine high above them, Gordon could barely hear what Alan was yelling at him.

"Shut up!" he yelled into the face of the man only inches below him, but either he didn't hear or didn't care, and kept on screaming. Alan's voice crackled in his ear piece.

"Gordo! The line, it's damaged!" Alan bellowed.

"What?!"

"Look up!"

Gordon lifted his gaze and felt bile rise in his throat. The safety cable had been caught between girders from where the roof had caved in. The metal fibres, already weakened from having been sitting amongst the flames while Gordon had been out on the roof, grated against the girders as they swung back and forth in time with the victims frantic struggles. Even as Gordon watched one of the fibres snapped, and his stomach lurched as they dropped a fraction lower into the hole.

"It can't hold us all Gordon! It's giving way!" Alan screamed.

"Just hang on! Virgil! Quick, pull us up! The roof's caved in!"

"FAB," Virgil's strong voice echoed across the air waves. "Hang tight!"

Gordon gripped tighter to the man below him as he heard the cable begin to grind as they rose. A sickening screech of metal on metal and a shuddering halt caused both he and Alan to look up.

"Virge stop! Bring TB2 out, the cable's caught on something!"

They heard Thunderbird 2's retros reverse as Virgil tried to adjust his position above them, but the cable held fast. Gordon swore as another fibre snapped.

"Gordon, it can't hold all three of us," Alan's voice, quieter this time, trickled into Gordon's ears. He could tell his brother had switched to a private channel by the lack of background noise and the harsh tone of Alan's breathing. "If there was less weight the cable might free up enough to move again."

"What? But how - Alan, no! You can't! You'll be killed!"

"Maybe not! It's just the roof that's given up, I can't feel any flame's directly below me. I can drop to the next floor and you can send the platform in after me."

"No Alan! It's suicide! Who knows how far the drop is, or if there's even a floor down there! It might not even work, we could still be stuck!"

"Well it might work! And if it doesn't either that cable will snap and we'll all fall, or this guy will shake me and himself loose anyway!" Alan nodded at the man above him, who appeared to have temporarily stopped struggling in favour of hyperventilating. "It's our only chance!"

"Alan, please! Don't"

"I have to try!"

Alan looked up at Gordon, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he let go.

"NO!"

Gordon stared hopelessly below him, hoping to catch any glimpse of his brother through the smoke below him. His breathing came fast and heavy, and he swallowed the sob building in his chest.

"Al?" he called hopelessly into his comm. "Alan?"

Only crackles met his ears as he closed his eyes tightly and tried desperately not to lose it. He switched channels to speak to the brother hovering above him.

"Virgil! Try again!"

Gordon breathed a sigh of relief as he felt himself rise. He heard the metal scrape, felt some resistance, and after a second that felt like and eternity felt something give under the power put on the remaining fibres of the cable by TB2. The next thing he was aware of was Virgil's puzzled voice as he rose above the smoke.

"Gordon, where's Alan?"

"Alan! Alan, come in! Please Al, answer me!"

John waited desperately for a reply from his little brother, but only silence answered his terrified pleas. He waited a few moments, adjusted the signal to allow for any interference, and began anew.

"Alan?!"

"What's happened Scott?"

"Gordon and Alan were out on the roof. It gave way, Gordon had his safety line on and managed to hang on to the victim, but Alan…" Scott stopped, unsure what to say, how much to tell his father, how to tell him what had happened.

"Well?!"

"He -" Scott hesitated before looking away. "He fell."

"Is he answering his comm?"

"No sir." Scott couldn't look his father in the eyes.

"Get Gordon back down there on the rescue platform, now! Then you get yourself in the Mole and get this fire out!"

"Yes sir!"

Scott's face disappeared. Jeff wasted no time in contacting Thunderbird 5. John's face appeared on the screen and Jeff had to steady himself on his desk as the image of his other blonde son appeared. John and Alan's features were so different, John and a long face and fine features, and almost elfin face while Alan's face was squarer like Virgil's, and hadn't yet completely lost its round, baby-like quality. Even their hair was different shades. But in that moment John reminded him so much of Alan that it took his breath away. Jeff swallowed and brought himself back to the present, trying not to imagine that beautiful blonde crown matted with blood…

"John," Jeff said as he visibly shook himself. "Can you raise Alan?"

"No Dad, I'm trying but all I'm getting is static." John's blue eyes were slightly watery as he looked imploringly at his father.

"Well keep trying son. And get the information of those chemicals to Scott, he's firing up the Mole. The least we can do for Alan is to try and get this fire out."

"FAB."

John signed off and Jeff turned to meet the stony eyes of his mother, still sitting where only moments ago they had been discussing Alan. Jeff sat down beside her and took her cold hands in his.

"Jeff," she said in a gravely voice. "Alan-"

"I know, Mother. We can't panic, we don't know what's happened. He may not have fallen far." Jeff fixed what he hoped was a reassuring smile to his face, knowing as he did so that it was shaky at best, and in no way convincing enough to fool his mother.

"But he's not answering…"

"His radio could be damaged. We have to stay calm for the other boys' sakes. They're still out there." he gripped his mother's hand firmly.

Grandma Tracy returned her own shaky smile for a beat, before her face felland she turned grave eyes on her son.

"Jeff, someone has to tell Tin-Tin."

Alan Tracy looked up urgently and instantly regretted it. The pounding in his head had settled into the all too familiar beat of Gordon's recent attempts to learn to play the drums. Pounding, rhythm less and extremely irritating. He suddenly understood why it had made Virgil, with his highly trained musical ear, so grouchy. Alan reached a gloved hand to his face and immediately regretted it when a sharp pain lanced through his head.

"Damn it!"

Looking up again he was relieved to see that Gordon and the victim had disappeared, obviously winched to safety. Releasing a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, Alan laughed mirthlessly to himself, grateful at least that he had been right and he hadn't diced with death for nothing.

Feeling around more carefully he realised that the left side of his helmet was severely dented. With an ominous feeling Alan attempted to contact John, Gordon, anyone! He heard nothing, not even the crackle of static. So his family had no way of knowing that, aside from a spectacular headache, he was unhurt.

Perfect.

Alan pushed himself to his feet, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet and twisting this way and that. Finding no apparent injuries he turned his attention to the place he had fallen. Looking around him, Alan could see very little of his surroundings. The smoke continued to billow around him, and Alan realised that, while still receiving an oxygen supply, his air seemed staler than usual. Tuning his ears, he could just hear the telltale hiss that meant some of his oxygen was leaking from his damaged helmet. He couldn't see any flames, but he could hear them. Alan darted nervous eyes back and forth before looking up hopefully. Above him he could make out a patch of light - well, a small area of dark blue rather than black, if you could call that light - but no sign of Thunderbird Two. Alan ran through a rough estimation of time in his head. Gordon should just be securing the victim on TB2, meaning that any minute now he should see the green behemoth circling above him, and the hatch doors opening to let the rescue platform down to fetch him. Any minute now. All he had to do was hang tight.

Sniffing slowly, Alan frowned. Was that burning he could smell? And was it just him, or was the ground underneath him really hot? 'Get a grip', he told himself. 'Of course you can smell burning, of course it's hot. The whole building's on fire!' Laughing at himself, he crouched down, breathing deeply to ease the pounding in his head and waiting for his big brothers to rescue him, knowing that he'd never hear the end of this.

An all too familiar creak brought his senses back to full alert. Just as Alan pushed himself to his feet, the ground once again swallowed him.

TBC