"I'm sorry," Norman said. "We did our best." The intruder had escaped the airport and had managed to outrun the police. Scott had to act fast. He had enough to be dealing with organising this rescue operation and had no time to worry about this intruder.

"Ok, leave this to me," Scott said. He reached out to his mobile control unit and pressed a button that lit up, bizarrely displaying a teapot. "Mobile control calling International Rescue, England."

"International Rescue, Lady Penelope speaking," a soft and classy voice replied. Though it was hard to believe, they were communicating through the secret transmitter hidden with Lady Penelope's teapot!

"Require your assistance," Scott briefly explained, "There was an intruder in Thunderbird 1 and we have no idea what information he's gotten away with. The man was last seen heading in your direction along M1 motorway. Will send through details of car he was he driving."

"Oh dear, how inconvenient," Lady Penelope replied. She was a secret agent of International Rescue, and a dear friend of the Tracy family. "Just as I was expecting visitors. Three coach loads, no less." She was also exceptionally wealthy and lived in a beautiful stately home in the British countryside.

"Ok, I've sent over all the information we know. It's imperative that you get this man and stop him."

"FAB," Lady Penelope said. "Parker, get the Rolls Royce. We're going for a little drive."

Scott checked his monitor. Virgil was less than two minutes away, but Fireflash's safety factor was down to just ten minutes. That would give them almost no time to carry out the rescue operation, and they would only get one shot at it. There were six hundred lives that depended on this working perfectly.

"Mobile control to Fireflash," Scott called out, his magical mobile control unit automatically patching him through to Fireflash. "Our heavy rescue equipment will be arriving momentarily. Once we're all set up, approach runway two-nine."

"Mobile control," Hanson said, with desperation in his voice. "How long will the setup take? If you can't start rescue attempt immediately—we've had it."

"Standby, Fireflash!" Scott urged. "We will have time, but we can't afford any mistakes. Now prepare for approach and when I give the signal, make a perfectly normal landing but with landing gear up. Repeat, landing gear up."

Scott looked outside the tower, hearing the engines of Thunderbird 2. Virgil had arrived. Thunderbird 2 was much larger than Scott's craft, but it needed to be as it was their primary way of transporting heavy rescue equipment. It had a large rear tailplane for lift and stability, and two enormous red booster rockets at its rear, capable of propelling the craft at immense speed despite its weight. It briefly disappeared in a cloud of smoke as it descended upon the airport, its beautiful green body only emerging once it had finished landing.

The frame of Thunderbird 2 began to rise, as four strut-like legs pushed upwards, releasing the central pod, which housed the specialised equipment. The door of the pod slowly lowered to the ground and out rolled three elevator cars, which were cars with flat, sturdy platforms raised above them, designed to take incredible weights and lift them up. It was their only chance of giving Fireflash a safe landing.

*

Virgil sat in the master elevator car, trying to control his emotions. Obviously, he was nervous for his first mission, that was only natural, but he also couldn't help being a little bit excited to finally kickstart rescue operations. Even so, he couldn't shake the fear for those poor people on stuck aboard Fireflash. Even if they didn't know the exact situation, they must have been scared for their lives.

"Are you ready Virgil?" Scott asked over radio.

Virgil checked the alignment of his car. It was perfect. He glanced at his two side mirrors, checking the position of the two radio-controlled elevator cars. They were also perfect. "Mobile control and Fireflash, this is Thunderbird 2. I'm ready."

"Ok, then. Mobile control to Fireflash, commence your final approach," Scott ordered. "Thunderbird 2, when I give the signal, start your run. Let's keep this channel as clear as possible, and whatever happens, keep a cool head."

"Roger, mobile control," Captain Hanson replied. "Starting approach now."

Virgil waited anxiously for Scott's signal. They only had one shot at this and any mistake could derail the whole operation. Scott would need to give the perfect orders, and Virgil would have to deliver the perfect response. It was all getting a little bit tense.

"Fireflash now one mile from threshold," Scott said, after what felt like an age. "Start tracking, Virgil."

"FAB, Scott," Virgil said as he smoothly rolled all the three cars into action. The master control car that he was seated in moved away beautifully on the runway, but the two radio cars seemed to start sluggishly. Virgil used the two wheels either side of his seat to speed them up, but he nervously hoped their response time was better during the rescue.

"Fireflash five hundred yards from threshold," Scott updated. "Thunderbird 2, increase your speed by ten percent."

"Ten percent. FAB." Virgil couldn't help but worry again. He should've already been going the perfect speed. Had he started tracking the glide path incorrectly? If he had, there was no time to correct it. An almighty shadow loomed over the three cars, as the epic frame of the Fireflash came over the runway.

Virgil felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead as the awesome aircraft caught up with him, the central fuselage now directly above his head. The two radio-controlled cars were perfectly positioned under the wings of Fireflash. It was time to act.

"Raising elevator platforms," Virgil said, turning a dial that extended the elevator platforms upwards so that they nearly touched Fireflash. They were going to act as impromptu landing gear, allowing the Fireflash to land safely without detonating the bomb. "Thunderbird 2 to Fireflash... cut engines."

"Cutting engines," Hanson responded immediately. The faint noise of Fireflash's engines stopped, and the great machine dropped out of the sky. The main body slammed down onto the master control car, the starboard wing crunched onto the right radio-controlled car and the port wing—

"Lift port wing, Fireflash, lift port wing!" Virgil urged. The elevator car had momentarily lost speed, and the left wing of Fireflash had been on a collision course with the ground. Thankfully, Hanson reacted quickly, raising the wing just long enough for Virgil to input more speed into the car. "Cut power!" he cried once he'd managed to align the car correctly. Fireflash was now sitting on top of the three cars, which continued to race along the runway.

"Ok, Fireflash," Virgil breathed. "Reverse thrust. I'm applying brakes down here." Smoke billowed out of Fireflash's tail fin as the engines desperately tried to slow the craft down. Virgil did everything he could to stop the momentum of the cars, his tyres screeching horrifically under the immense pressure.

"We're not gonna make it!" Hanson cried. "We're running out of runway!"

Virgil looked up and gasped. Hanson was right; they had nearly used up all the runway and were still travelling far too fast. "Hold tight, Fireflash! Applying maximum brakes!"

The radio-controlled cars continued to respond slowly so Virgil had to push the master control car to its absolute limits, forcing it to stop no matter the cost. The powerful smell of burning rubber coursed through the air as his tyres begged for mercy, praying that their torture would soon end. The force of his brakes was so strong that he began to feel Fireflash's almighty weight move on top of the cars.

"We're slipping!" Hanson yelled. "The nose cone's gonna fall!"

The end of the runway was in sight, but they had almost come to a complete stop, Virgil just needed to hold on for a little while longer. He tried to correct his position, but Fireflash continued to lose its grip on the elevator platforms. Suddenly, his tyres blew up. The car jerked up and down and Virgil lost control completely, desperately fighting the steering wheel in vain as he swerved left and right. Fireflash's nose lost its battle for grip, falling from its elevated position and scraping into the ground.

"No!" Virgil screamed as his car bashed into Fireflash's nose before careering sideways violently. He practically flew off the runway, the car tumbling and rolling onto soft grass, before eventually coming to rest, entirely upside down.

Virgil tried to blink away his grogginess as he looked out of his windscreen. The very tip of Fireflash's nose had caught fire, but a blaring of sirens from fire engines told him the blaze wouldn't get out of hand. Other than that, the aircraft had come to a complete stop, just on the edge of the runway. And most importantly of all—the bomb had not detonated.

"They made it... they made it!" Commander Norman cried out over the radio. "Jolly good show! Now let's get them out of there and get bomb disposal on the scene right away!"

"Virgil!" Scott yelled, "Are you ok, Virgil?"

Virgil managed a smile. He was upside down, half tangled in his seatbelt, drenched in sweat, battered and bruised, but the operation had been a success. "I'm ok, Scott. I'm ok."

*

"That's great, Virgil," Scott breathed a sigh of relief. He had feared the worst when he saw Virgil's car flip off the runway. As much as the rescue operation had to be his top priority, he hadn't planned on losing a brother today. "Just, great."

"How can we ever repay you?" Norman asked. He hadn't stopped beaming since Fireflash had come to a stop. By now, nearly all passengers had been taken to safety and the fire was well under control.

"Oh, there won't be any payment necessary," Scott smiled. "But there is one thing you can do. Our operation must remain top secret. As you've seen today, our equipment and technology is well ahead of its time and while we only ever intend to use it for good, in the wrong hands it could destroy mankind. So, I must ask that you do not track us or attempt to discover more about our operation. At all costs, secrecy must be maintained."

"It's the least we could do," Norman nodded. "Speaking of secrecy, what about that character who broke into your aircraft?"

Scott smiled. "Oh, don't worry. He'll be taken care of."

*

Lady Penelope was sat on the back seat of her luxurious Rolls Royce, affectionately named FAB 1, while her personal butler and chauffeur, Parker, drove them rapidly along the motorway, closing in on their target. The Rolls was comfortable and classy, providing the smoothest ride imaginable and being the perfect vehicle to emerge from at a celebrity gathering, or red-carpet event. The vivid pink colour of the exterior was just a touch of personality that Penelope simply couldn't help resisting.

It suited her perfectly. It was bold, daring, perhaps even slightly outrageous, and it certainly attracted some attention. It exuberated class and sophistication. And yet despite its glamourous appearance, FAB 1 was not just for show and held many secrets under its bonnet, some of which would be needed today to catch the intruder of the Thunderbird.

"We're closing in on 'im, m'lady," Parker said. He had done a tremendous job speeding down the motorway, and the suspiciously out of place airport security car was now in sight. It had some minor damage to its exterior, which had no doubt allowed them to catch up with such ease. Penelope checked the number plate; it matched the one Scott had given her.

"Good, Parker," Penelope said. "Wait until we get a clear stretch of road. We wouldn't want to cause a scene now, would we?"

"Certainly not, m'lady," Parker smiled. He had served her for as long as she could remember, and they understood each other perfectly. In many ways, they couldn't be more different, and yet somehow, the two worked perfectly together. Parker's words were vaguely coherent cockney, while Penelope spoke only the truest of Queen's English. Parker's past was not entirely clean, while Penelope's record was utterly spotless. Parker had had to make his own way in the world and as such, had skills Penelope could only dream of, while Penelope's status got her opportunities Parker could only dream of. Together, they were unstoppable.

Lady Penelope glanced out of the back windscreen. Finally, they had some space behind them. She gestured towards her driver. "Go ahead, Parker."

"With pleasure, m'lady," Parker said with a grin. He pressed a secret button on the underside of the dashboard. The front grill of the Rolls retracted, and the barrel of a gun pointed out. It fired, sending several sharp spikes at the car in front. Both of its rear tyres popped, and the car veered off the road, crashing through the trees that lined the motorway.

"Oh dear," Lady Penelope mused. "It seems he was using those tyres after all."

Parker pulled over at the next convenient stopping point and the pair exited FAB 1 and began retracing their steps along the road. It had felt like no time at all in the car, but it must've been at least twenty minutes of walking before they reached the smoking wreckage. The back tyres were flat as a pancake, and the front of the car was completely crumpled, with a large tree now wedged firmly in it.

"'E appears to 'ave scarpered, m'lady," Parker said, pointing out the open door and some faint footprints leading away from the road.

"How tiresome," Penelope sighed. "Although he doesn't appear to have gotten far."

They followed the trail for no more than a hundred steps before coming across what seemed to be a collapsed man. However, closer inspection revealed it to be nothing of the sort. It was an airport security outfit, abandoned, with a worn mask lying a few feet further on. Clearly, the intruder had made a snap decision and made a run for it.

"Now, this is troublesome," Penelope said. "The trail seems to go cold."

"Not h'exactly, m'lady," Parker chimed in.

"Really, Parker?" Penelope asked. "Am I about to learn another dastardly secret from your misspent youth?"

"No secret about it, m'lady," Parker said, protesting his innocence. "But it's the h'oldest trick the book. You ditch what you stole, to get h'away with your life."

"I see," Penelope said, beaming at Parker's disturbing life lessons. "So, you're suggesting that if we look closer, we might find... well now, what's this?" Penelope had been turning out the pockets of the uniform when she found a small device with two tiny pointed antennae.

"That's 'is scanner!" Parker cried.

"It seems you were quite right, Parker," Penelope said. "Our intruder has given up his precious cargo in exchange for an escape opportunity while we were distracted. This is no longer a simple chase, but an investigation of upmost importance."

She pulled out her compact, but had no intention of powdering her nose. For a start, her face was quite beautiful enough as it was, accentuated by her crystal blue eyes and gorgeous blonde hair that cascaded down to her shoulders. It seemed rather silly to take such a pretty sight and cover it up with something so highly unnatural. Although mainly because this compact had been given to her when she joined International Rescue, and it was her way of communicating with Tracy Island.

"International Rescue, Lady Penelope speaking," she spoke clearly. The mirror within the compact flickered, her own reflection disappearing, and replaced by a greying man whose wrinkles showed the happy smiles he had had during his eventful life.

"Penny, what a pleasant surprise," the man replied. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm afraid we have some rather unpleasant business, Jeff," Penelope explained. "Scott ran into some trouble with an intruder and he rather seems to have given us the slip."

"That's grim news, Penny," Jeff said, his smile gone in an instant.

"As fortune would have it, we have managed to recover the device used to scan Thunderbird 1. Given the heat of the chase, I highly doubt he was able to make a copy."

"Well, that's a relief," Jeff breathed. "Send it our way and Brains can analyse it to make sure."

"Very well, Jeff," Penelope nodded. "I shall also send the clothes and mask worn by our intruder. We may be able to get some forensic data, and perhaps a lead in the investigation."

"Good thinking, Penny. With you on the case, this character won't evade us for long."

Penelope smiled at the faith Jeff had in her. "How did the rescue go?"

Jeff couldn't help a wide grin from spreading across his face. "Scott and Virgil were fantastic. Not a single casualty. It was the perfect rescue."

"Oh, how wonderful!"

"And now the whole world knows about International Rescue... I think we're in business!"