Jeff and Lou tell all

The darkness Lou was in began to lift. She moaned slightly, her head throbbing, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. Somewhere nearby something rustled, then she heard a familiar tenor voice, one that confused her.

"L-Lou?"

She tried to open her eyes, but only one obeyed her mental command. The other felt swollen, and could open no more than a slit. She closed it again and squinted with the other as Brains's bespectacled face moved into her line of vision.

"B-Brains? How... how did I get to... the island?" she murmured, her voice rattling and raspy in her ear..

He smiled. "You're n-not on the, uh, island. You're in the h-hospital. In Asheville."

She blinked her one good eye as she tried to absorb the information. "Oh, okay." A pause. "Where did you...?"

"Where d-did I come from? I-I was in, uh, Atlanta. For a conference. S-Scott told me to c-come," he explained patiently. "How d-do you feel?"

She moved a bit, and involuntarily hissed as a sharp pain lanced through her shoulder. "Sore. Hung over." She closed her eyes and grimaced. "Headache. Face hurts."

"I'll t-tell the d-doctor you're awake."

Lou just listened as a doctor came in and Brains explained that she was awake. Someone knocked on the open door, and words were exchanged between the doctor, Brains, and whoever had knocked. Then the phone rang, and she winced at the sound. She heard Brains answer the phone. "H-Hello?"

A pause, then, "Ah, M-Mr. Tracy. She's c-come around." At those words, Lou's one clear eye flew open. Jeff! She lost the rest of the conversation, but the doctor, who had finally shooed away the third man, called a nurse and moved over to talk to Brains. She heard the engineer say, "I, uh, have to go. They're k-kicking me out."

Lou turned her head toward him as he hung up the phone. "Brains?" He glanced over at her, and she asked, "Is Jeff okay?"

Brains nodded. "H-He's okay. He's on his, uh, way here."

The nurse came in, and Brains went out. Lou sighed and laid back, allowing the doctor and nurse to examine her.

The elevator deposited Jeff on Lou's hospital floor, and he strode briskly down the corridor toward her room. His headlong hustle abruptly came to a halt as he heard Brains call out, "M-Mr. Tracy!" Turning, he saw his chief engineer waving and beckoning to him from what looked like a waiting area. Frowning, he pointed to the closed door of the room where he last knew Lou was ensconced. "Let me just see Lou..."

Brains interrupted. "N-No, Mr. Tracy. The detectives from the sh-sheriff's office are, uh, in there, questioning her." He beckoned once again and, this time, Jeff turned around, joining him. Brains continued his narrative. "I tried to return to her, uh, room when the d-doctor was done, but was asked if I were, uh, legal counsel. When I said, 'N-No,' I was politely asked to leave."

"Hmph," Jeff snorted. He glanced at his watch. "Wonder why they asked if you were legal counsel? She's the victim here, not the perpetrator." Another glance at his watch, then he suddenly realized what he was doing, and sat down heavily in a chair. He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. "I am beat. And hungry. Have you had lunch yet?"

"N-No, sir," Brains admitted. "I haven't."

"Wonder what the food's like here?" Jeff asked, almost absently. He got up and looked down the corridor to the still-closed door. "I don't want to go far..."

"Uh, why don't I go down to the c-cafeteria and get something to go. I c-can bring it up here and we c-can eat while we talk. I, uh, still d-don't have your story yet."

Jeff smiled, the first one in hours. "Good plan, Brains. Do it. I'll wait here, unless the detectives finish with her. Then I'll be in her room."

"Right, M-Mr. Tracy," Brains replied smartly. "B-Be back soon." With that, Brains left, asking directions to the cafeteria of the nurses and heading for the elevators. As the doors opened to admit him, three people got off, carrying a large paper bag. As he stepped into the car, he sniffed the air appreciatively. Mmmm. Garlic. Someone's had something delicious in here.

Jeff leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped loosely between his knees, his eyes closing of their own accord. I am so tired. How long are those detectives going to be? He sat bolt upright as a trio of familiar voices went by in the hospital corridor. Jumping up, he strode to the open waiting room door and peered out, then called, "Signora! Signora Giordano!"

The three people turned at his call, and smiles broke out. "Mr. Tracy!" Fred called. He backtracked to the waiting area, followed more slowly by Gisella and Francesca.

"It's good to see you again, 'Just Jeff'. I suppose our Lucinda must have told you our family name," Francesca said, winking at him. "I thought you might still be here. We heard about the trouble on the televid." She frowned at the bandage on his cheek. "Is that how you got hurt?"

Jeff touched the bandage, gave her a rueful smile and withdrew into the waiting room. The Giordanos followed. Fred put a paper bag carefully down on a table, then sat next to Gisella, who had claimed seats at a right angle from Jeff. The small group waited until Francesca had made herself comfortable before turning their attention to the object of her query.

"In answer to your question, yes, this is a souvenir from last night's... incident," Jeff said wearily. "Believe me, this is nothing compared to Lou... Lucinda's injuries." He gave them a short, edited version of what happened to him and what happened after the police arrived. "I haven't been able to see her since I arrived back here," he told them. "The detectives are still in there questioning her."

"Ah! Quello é terribile!" Francesca said. "I'm glad that you weren't hurt much, but I feel very sad for Lucinda." She indicated the bag, the contents of which were making Jeff's mouth water. "We brought her a meal from our kitchens to cheer her and help her recuperate."

"I'm sure that if anything will do that, food from your restaurant will," Jeff replied, taking a deep sniff.

"What were they looking for?" Gisella asked. "Surely Lucinda couldn't have anything so valuable to be tortured so."

Jeff shook his head. "I don't exactly know what they were looking for," he prevaricated. "She mentioned an emerald necklace and a few other valuables."

"Hmm. Still, that's minor. She should have given them what they wanted and they might not have hurt her," Gisella retorted.

"Maybe it had something to do with her old job," Fred offered. "Maybe it was someone out for revenge."

Francesca reached over to swat her grandson. "You with your imagination. I'm sure that any enemies that our Lucinda has are safely behind bars."

Jeff was going to make a comment, when movement in the hall caught his eye. Two men, wearing suit coats, walked by. One was speaking into a microrecorder, and the other was closing up a PDA. He waited until they had made it onto the elevator, then he poked his head out to see the door to Lou's room was ajar. "Folks, I think that the detectives are gone. Shall we?" He offered a gallant hand to Francesca, who smiled and thanked him. Fred retrieved the bag and, carrying it carefully, followed the older adults down the hallway. Jeff knocked on the door and, hearing a weary, "Come in," swung it open to admit his companions.

"Wow!" Fred whispered, giving a low whistle, while Gisella and his grandmother both drew in sharp breaths. Francesca cried, "Lucinda! What have you been doing to yourself?"

Jeff moved aside as the Giordanos crowded around. Lou essayed a smile, painful though it was, and said, "Just being lazy here, Nonna."

"Lazy? Of course not!" Francesca returned. To Jeff's eye, she looked like she was itching to touch Lou, to put a hand to the bruised face and lend comfort that way. But instead she took Lou's good hand and gently squeezed it. "Are you sure it wasn't 'Just Jeff' here who did this?" she asked jokingly, giving Lou a wink.

"I'm sure, Nonna," Lou replied. "If it had been, he'd be in the hospital bed and not me."

"Did the detectives grill you, Miz Myles?" Fred asked. "Mr. Tracy told us some of what happened."

"Yes, they did, Fred," Lou said wearily. "And I am so glad that's over for now."

"We can't stay long," Gisella said, as much an explanation to Lou and Jeff as a warning to Francesca. "We'll be needed back at the restaurant for dinner prep. But we brought you this, some chicken marsala," here Fred opened the bag and brought forth take-out plates that filled the room with a delicious aroma, "and we came to see what else we could do to help."

"Vincenzo himself made that for you, Lucinda, so you'd better eat every bite!" Francesca warned, wagging a finger at her.

"Vincenzo himself? I'm honored," Lou responded with another small smile. "I'm sure Jeff will see to it that I eat it, and if I can't, he'll help me. Won't you, Jeff?"

Put on the spot, Jeff grinned, replying, "Chicken marsala, you say? Oh, I'll help. Most definitely."

Even Lou let out a soft chuckle at that comment. Gisella came to the forefront. "Is there anything else we can help you with, Lucinda?"

Lou sighed. "There may be. Once I'm out of here. I'll call and let you know."

"Good enough." Gisella glanced at her two companions. "Well, I think we've stayed long enough. Let's let Lucinda eat in peace and get some rest." The other two agreed, and after a round of goodbyes, the Giordanos filed out, passing Brains, who had just come to the room with two plates of food and two drinks from the cafeteria. Jeff took the plates from him, and told him to close the door. As he went to do so, a dietician's aide came to the door with a tray. She looked around and saw the take-out boxes and smelled the aroma of the Italian food. She smiled and said, "I don't think you'll be needing this, but I'm going to leave it anyway. I'll be back in a half hour to collect the dishes."

Brains lifted the lid on the plate. "L-Looks good, but not as good as that I-Italian concoction smells."

"Bring the cutlery over here, please, Brains," Jeff asked. "Lou can use it. That and the drink." He turned to her and noticed that the wide band had been replaced by a sling on her right arm. "Will you be able to cut this up? Or do you need some help?"

"Some help, I guess."

Jeff regarded Lou for a moment. She looked tired, and pale, and the bruising stood out sharply against her wan complexion. Only one eye was open and he could tell she was trying to keep the other, the black and swollen one, closed. He took the metal cutlery that Brains had brought over and began to slice up the tender chicken. "So, how are you feeling?"

Lou took in a deep breath and let it out through her nose. "Like something Midnight dragged in. The shoulder is throbbing, my head aches, my whole face hurts, and my stomach is either hungry or nauseous, I can't tell which. The doctor doesn't want to give me any pain relievers until he's absolutely sure the drug is out of my system. They haven't been able to pinpoint what it was and he doesn't want any nasty surprises like a bad drug interaction."

"I had overheard that bit of news earlier. It's why they decided to admit you for observation," Jeff said, continuing to cut up the food into bite-sized pieces. He looked at the chicken and paused. "Tell me something. You said that the Giordanos were fifth-generation Italian-Americans."

"Yes. So?"

"So, why does Signora Giordano speak so much Italian? It's not like she's from 'the old country'."

Lou smiled again and gave a soft snort. "I asked her that once. She said that they still have relations over in Italy, mostly her husband Vincenzo's family, who are getting on in years. When they pay a visit, they have to speak Italian, so it's good for them to be familiar with it. Besides, Vincenzo thinks it makes the restaurant sound more authentic, and that it's almost expected by the customers. Sounds kind of funny to have an Italian restaurant where the owners and staff say, 'Y'all'."

Jeff chuckled and glanced down at his handiwork. "There, I think that does it. Now for my own lunch." He handed her the fork and moved the bed tray into a more convenient position. He uncovered the grilled chicken sandwich from the cafeteria and started adding on the side items, like lettuce and tomato. Brains was already munching away on the thick cheeseburger he had purchased for himself. They ate in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated only by the sounds of chewing and the occasional rustle of a paper napkin.

At last, Lou pushed away her meal. "I can't eat any more," she murmured. Brains got up, washed his hands, and approached, offering to box up the remainder of her meal and find a cryofridge to store it. She thanked him gratefully, and sat back against the raised head of the bed. The dietician's aide came and went, taking the nearly full tray with her. Brains returned from his foray to the nurses' station, where they directed him to a small kitchenette that could be used by families of patients, and where he stored the rest of the chicken marsala. When he reentered the room, he found Jeff washing his hands. The two men pulled chairs up close to Lou's bed.

"Do you think it's safe to talk in here?" Jeff asked Lou, causing Brains to glance sharply at him.

Lou nodded carefully. "I think so. Everyone that I've seen come in or out has had proper identification and has stayed no longer than necessary."

"And either Brains or I have been here when you've been sleeping," Jeff added. He took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I'd better begin." He turned to his chief engineer. "Brains, first of all, you should know that Lou knows about International Rescue and our involvement in it. In fact, that's what this attack was all about."

Brains blinked several times behind his thick glasses as he tried to absorb the information. Finally, he squeaked out one word, "How?"

"Someone unknown set Interpol to collecting information on us. Lou ended up with the results of that collection, and she showed it to me the other day," Jeff replied.

"W-why would, uh, Interpol want to investigate IR?" Brains asked.

"Possible blackmail by the World Government," Lou said. "To get IR to work for them instead of being a free entity." She shrugged slightly and hissed as her shoulder pain flared. "At least those are the rumors I've heard."

"O-Okay," Brains told them. "Suppose you tell me what, uh, happened? F-From all I've observed it, uh, obviously wasn't a t-typical 'home invasion'."

"No, Brains, it wasn't. Early this morning, a gang came looking for the information." He then proceeded to tell Brains and Lou what had happened to him during the attack. When he had finished with the account, he added, "There were two things I didn't tell the police when they took my statement. One was that I knew what the bastards were after. The other was that these people knew damn well who I was and called me by name."

"I'm not surprised," Lou said softly. "They were... professionals. That's the kind of information that they would have found out before they made any move." She shook her head slowly. "I wish to God you weren't involved, Jeff."

"W-What happened to you, Lou?" Brains asked.

Lou drew in a deep breath, and began to tell them her tale. "There were three of them. They hauled me out of bed in the middle of the night, just like they did Jeff. One I could have taken, possibly two, but three? I'm no Emma Peel." The two men exchanged confused glances, but Lou went on, unheeding. "I did manage to mark a couple of them, but they overpowered me and shot me up with a drug. I passed out and when I came to, I was tied up and blindfolded. Not that it would have made any difference; they all wore black clothes, plain ski masks, and gloves. I knew I had some kind of so-called 'truth' drug in me; I was high as a kite and started singing. They didn't much like that, so they slapped me. They asked me where the file was. I denied having it. They didn't like my answer, and slapped me around some more. They asked again. I denied having it a second time, then started laughing, and someone punched me. Then they asked me a third time, and I told them I had destroyed it. They didn't like that answer, either." She shuddered and swallowed. "One of them groped me..."

"What?" Jeff cried angrily. "Damn the bastards! When I get my hands on them..."

"M-Mr. Tracy, calm down!" Brains exclaimed. "Let Lou finish."

Jeff subsided, but a smoldering, dangerous look came into his eyes and Brains thought, These people are dead when he catches up to them. I hope that we can talk him out of doing something drastic. "Go on, Lou," is what he said, in his gentle tenor.

Lou chewed a bit on her lower lip, putting at risk the split that had been closed with surgical glue. Then she spoke again. "Like I said, one of them started... groping and I shouted 'No!'. I told him I'd smashed it. He stopped and pushed on my shoulder instead, and I screamed. But I guess they thought I needed some more incentive to tell them what they wanted to know. That's when they brought out Jeff, put the gun to his head, and took off my blindfold. I didn't want them to hurt him, so I made it look like they had broken me and I gave them... a disk." She smiled slightly. "I made it as unpleasant as possible for them to retrieve it. I hid it in a litter box." She became serious again and sighed. "Then the police finally showed up and the bastards took off out the back door."

"I'm surprised that the cops showed up when they did," Jeff remarked. "I figured that if the gang was watching you, they would have taken out your alarm system."

"They probably thought they did," Lou said. "But my friend built the system on what she calls the 'Musketeers' principle': 'One for all and all for one'."

"That explains why there were three units..." Jeff's voice trailed off at Lou's small, satisfied smile. "Wait. There were four Musketeers, weren't there? That means four units." Lou nodded slightly and Jeff continued. "Where was the fourth one?"

"In my inner sanctum, where it couldn't be reached," Lou said. She frowned, then winced as the bruises on her face smarted with the change of expression. "Though it took a whole lot longer than I expected for the police to arrive. I'll have to talk to Dee about the calibration. The system is supposed to put out a call within three minutes."

"Hmm. I can see that there's a problem..." Jeff's voice trailed off when Brains cleared his throat. "Right. We'll discuss that at another time."

"W-What was on this, uh, disk you gave them?" Brains asked. Jeff held his breath; this was the one question he hadn't asked and most wanted the answer to.

"What they were looking for... but not what they were looking for, either," Lou said wearily.

Jeff let out the breath and asked, "What do you mean?"

She looked down. "When I got that disk and opened the files on it, I knew I was sitting on a powder keg, but I couldn't decide just what to do with it. After my unscheduled visit to your island, I knew who I was dealing with as far as IR was concerned, and I had to do something. I realized that the people who had killed Tom and his wife were going to come after me at some point or other. So... I made a dummy disk. I altered the identikit pictures and the other sketches. I pulled fingerprints from my old case files, prints from people who I knew were dead, and substituted them for what Tom had found. I rewrote the interviews and testimonies, changing dates and times and names and places. I corrupted what little video I put on there." She paused and looked up at Jeff and Brains. "And to every single file I attached a termite."

Brains sat up suddenly. "A t-termite? Where did you g-get one of those?"

"I paid a hacker, a man I once arrested, to build me one, one I could program myself," she replied. "The parameters I programmed will ensure that every file containing the words 'International Rescue', 'Thunderbirds', 'IR', or any variation or combination thereof will be corrupted or deleted from the system into which the files are copied, or even opened." She smiled slightly. "He thought I was going to drop it into Interpol's system and was very amenable. But he doesn't really know why I wanted it."

Jeff looked confused. "Excuse me, but what is a termite?"

Brains grinned. "It's the latest cr-creature in a hacker's, uh, arsenal. It doesn't attack a computer's, uh, operating s-system, but its d-data files. You don't know it's, uh, there until you open your s-stored data or archived f-files. Like it's namesake in the, uh, insect w-world, it chews the data down into a fine mess of bytes and p-pixels. Some can even write themselves onto b-backup media." He glanced over at Lou, who nodded slightly.

"So, they didn't get what they wanted, but a whole lot more than they bargained for," Jeff said, a grim smile on his face. "I've put the information from the original disk in a safe place, and I saw you smash it with my own eyes." His grin faded. "So why do I get the feeling that the danger's not over yet?"

Lou sighed. "Because it isn't. Like I said, these people are professionals. They'll be chasing their tails for a week, two at the outside." She gazed lopsidedly at Jeff, leaning the side of her head on the mattress. "All I've managed to do is buy you some time, Jeff. Time to put into place the personnel security protocols I recommended and for your genius here to work on better security and camouflage for your equipment. You've got to put a priority on it because if you don't, they'll just start over. They won't use Interpol either. And serendipity won't save you again."

"If we could only find out who they were and where they are," Jeff exclaimed. He got up to pace around a bit, then turned to Lou again. "You said they won't use Interpol. Why not?"

She looked down again. "Like you, there were a couple of things I didn't tell the police. One was what the bastards were after. There was just no way I could explain it. But the other..." She sighed heavily and said very quietly, "I-I recognized one of their voices."

Jeff stopped his pacing. "You did?" He moved over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Who was it?" When she remained silent, he took her hand. "Please, Lou. Tell me."

Lou took in a deep shuddering breath and let it out shakily. "The man who groped me. One of my former partners. His name is James Clayton Franks. He was dismissed from Interpol for repeated and flagrant violations of their sexual harassment policies. There were a couple of criminal actions against him... some civil complaints. I have more pertinent details on him in my files. They'd more likely use him to make sure there's no repeat of what happened with Tom. He's clever, charming, and without scruples."

Jeff frowned. "Was... was he the one with the weird voice? The one you couldn't tell was male or female?"

Lou nodded. "It made him good at calling perps to set up stings. They couldn't tell if he was a man or a woman."

"He was the one that groped...?"

"Yes. Let's not talk about that anymore."

"He was the one who slammed me into the wall," Jeff said, glowering, his voice curt and angry. "He's got a lot to answer for." He got up and paced again. "Can I get into the secret room? I'd like to get that information out to my agents in the Bahamas."

Lou shook her head. "No. The catch is fingerprint activated. I have to be there."

Brains, who had been listening intently, sat up suddenly. "M-Maybe not. There might be a w-way around it. Does it use four-color camera or just scan?"

"It just scans," Lou said, puzzled.

"Ah, good." He stood, and held out his hand. "M-Mr. Tracy? My keys, p-please? And my satellite phone?"

"Oh, sure," Jeff fished around in his pockets and found the keys to the rental car, tossing them to the scientist. "The phone is under the passenger seat." Brains caught the keys mid-air and gave the two a jaunty salute as he left the room.

"I don't know of any way around the system," Lou said. She took the bed controls in her hand and lowered the head of the bed. "I think I'm going to nap now. Maybe then the headache will go away."

Jeff returned to the bed and smiled at her. "You do that. I'll wake you if there are any developments." He tweaked the covers up over her sling, but squelched the desire to brush back her hair from her forehead. He waited until her eyes closed, then walked quietly over to the window, peering out between two slats of the window blinds. It was mid-afternoon now, and the sun was moving behind the building, casting short shadows on the lawn in front of the hospital. It's a beautiful day. I hope Brains can get us into the secret room. We need that information on her old partner now, not tomorrow. He glanced back at the woman in the bed. I can't believe I doubted her intentions. She's done so much to protect us. I wonder how much she had to pay that hacker? The least I can do is reimburse her for it.

He turned from the window and sat down in the chair again. I wonder what she'll do now. When those bastards find out that they've been had, I'm sure that they'll be after her again. Maybe I can get her to come out to the island. She'd be safer there than anywhere else.

Moving the other chair so that he could put up his feet, Jeff stretched out and tried to get comfortable. He pulled out his PDA and went through his appointments, making a mental note to reschedule his meetings in Tallahassee and Atlanta as soon as he was able to. I am so tired! he thought as he yawned. His eyes drooped closed, and without even realizing it, he fell asleep.

Brains was on the road, following the GPS directions to an electronics store. He put in a call on his satellite phone, using his hands free headset.

"D-Deirdre? It's H-Hiram Hackenbacker. I've g-got a little, uh, problem you might be a-able to help me with."