Uncivil Behavior

There was a knock on Jeff's office door.

"Come in!" he called. He was certain he knew who it was, and he was right. A troubled-looking Kyrano and Onaha entered, hand in hand. He gave them both an encouraging smile, and waved towards the sofa, indicating that they should sit. Then he came out from behind the desk and sat in one of the chairs nearby. "Lady Penelope told me that there'd been an 'incident' at Tin-Tin's school, but nothing more than that."

"It is true," Kyrano said. He sat ramrod straight on the sofa's edge, and glanced at Onaha, whose eyes were a little puffy and red. "Our Tin-Tin has been asked to leave the school."

Jeff frowned, concerned. "What? Why?"

"It seems that there was a... a fight, of sorts," Onaha said, quietly. Kyrano put his other hand on hers, and squeezed it gently. "The details are sketchy; it seems that one of the older girls said something rude to Tin-Tin, a veiled insult. Then the girl fell to the ground. No one seems to know if she tripped or was pushed."

"She accused Tin-Tin of pushing her, and..." Kyrano winced, "she slapped our daughter. Tin-Tin retaliated..."

"And that's all it took," Jeff said, nodding in understanding.

"Two of Tin-Tin's friends – Amelie and Keiko – witnessed the incident, and told the headmistress that she hadn't pushed the girl," Onaha said, her face creased in a concerned, hurt expression. "But it was the word of a peer's daughter – and her friends – against three foreigners." She glanced down. "Our daughter does not have parents who are famous, or influential. Even had she done nothing, I fear she still would have been asked to leave."

Jeff shook his head and made a disgusted noise. "I can't say I'm surprised. I thought that the school was snobbish when we visited, but Lady Penelope recommended it..."

"Her Ladyship is livid," Kyrano said, a slight smile finally breaking through. "She has made it very clear that she is cutting all ties with the school, and will encourage her fellow graduates to do the same." His smile widened a touch. "The language she used to describe the headmistress... I did not realize she knew such words."

Jeff snorted a laugh. "Lady Penelope is constantly surprising me like that." He leaned forward and made eye contact with each of them. "So, what do you want to do about this situation?"

The couple exchanged glances, then Kyrano said, "Lady Penelope has said that she is delighted to have Tin-Tin stay with her until we can find a new school for her, and has offered to help us look for one in England. But..." he paused, and sighed, "we want our girl to come home. She was doing well in her satellite classes, and truthfully, we miss her."

"I see," Jeff replied, looking thoughtful. "I understand your feelings, but – as I recall - part of the reason why you decided to have Tin-Tin go to school abroad was so she could meet other girls. Learn to get along with different sorts of people." He stroked his chin for a moment, then said, "How would you feel about sending her to school in the States? Maybe somewhere close to Wharton?"

Kyrano and Onaha glanced at each other again, then Onaha said, "We appreciate everything you've done for us, Mr. Tracy, and for paying for Tin-Tin's education. Could we discuss it between us and give you our decision later?"

Jeff nodded. "Of course. And whatever you decide, I'll be happy to step up and provide the funds." He smiled and reached out to pat Kyrano on the upper arm. "You're like family, and I can't remember how we ever did without you two."

"Thank you, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said with a solemn nod.

The two men rose, and Kyrano helped his wife to her feet. "Brains and I are going to Wharton this weekend to see Alan and Fermat compete," Jeff said. "We can plan to stop in England and pick up Tin-Tin either on the way there, or on our way back."

"That would be helpful," Onaha replied gratefully.

"I'll make the arrangements with Lady Penelope," Jeff offered, smiling. "Kyrano, Onaha, don't worry about this. We'll work it out, I promise."

Kyrano smiled a little and nodded his head quickly. "Thank you again, Mr. Tracy." He glanced at his watch. "We had better prepare lunch."

"I'll see you soon then."

The Belegants left as they came in, hand-in-hand, and Jeff returned to his desk. He picked up his stylus and tapped it against his chin, then reached over to pick up the phone. "If there's one thing I'm going to do to this school," he muttered, "is call my lawyers and get my money back."

Alan forced himself to stop trying to breathe, and suddenly found himself able to. He filled his lungs, his eyes closed. How do I get out of this? C'mon, Alan, think! You know Scott showed you how!

He could feel the alcohol and cigarette-laden breath of whoever was behind him warming his neck. He's leaning in close, too close. Close enough for this! He slammed his head back, hoping that the hands linked behind his neck wouldn't keep him from his target.

They didn't. There was a crack, and a hoarse cry. "By noth!"

The grip loosened as his captor instinctively started to reach for his wounded nose. Alan made himself a dead weight, falling to his hands and knees, sliding out of what was left of the nelson. And not a moment too soon; a swish in the air above his head heralded another punch, one that caught his original attacker in the gut if the sound was any indication. He saw the outline of Sugi's body, silhouetted by the fire behind. Getting one foot under him, he launched into a full tackle, catching Sugi around the waist. The surprise attack forced Lee back; he stumbled and fell to the ground, Alan's weight and position now forcing the breath from his lungs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alan saw movement, someone coming towards him, a figure outlined in the orange glow. He rolled off of Sugi, backing away from this new threat, and ran smack into another person. Whoever he was, he wrapped his arms around Alan, trapping one arm and lifting him from the ground.

Elbow to ribs; heels to shins. The movements were automatic, the thoughts that governed them so fleeting that Alan barely knew they existed. The elbow caught the upper arm, near the shoulder; it loosened the hold just a bit. His right heel contacted not the shin, but the knee, which seemed to be a sensitive spot, as his attacker yelped and stumbled, freeing Alan. He caught a familiar face in his peripheral vision, too fast to process and identify at the moment. The "flee" instinct had kicked in mightily, and that's exactly what he did, pushing between the bushes and heading out into the dark, surrounding woods.

"Damn!" said the fourth attacker. "He kicks like a mule. Got my bad knee."

Sugi, who had finally recovered his breath, said, "Don't worry. We'll get him." He pulled a pair of dark goggles out of his jacket pocket and slid them on to cover his eyes. "Military surplus stores are great. You never know what you'll find there." He turned to the one whose nose had been hit. "Pierce, you stay here in case he comes back. Mickey, Steve, we three will fan out and find him. He can't see in the dark, but we can."

The three young men left the Hollow, Mickey limping along with an occasional muttered curse. Pierce sat down heavily with his back to the biggest stump, out of the light, his bloodied shirt held up to his nose.

Alan ran, directionless, heart pounding, plowing through whatever gaps he could make out in the darkness under the trees. Finally, his brain reasserted its dominance over his instincts and he slowed to a walk. He rubbed his abdomen where he'd been punched; it felt sore and the ache renewed itself with every deep breath. He began to look around, and realized that he had no idea where he was. Any familiar landmarks had been swallowed up by the darkness. He looked up, hoping to see some stars to perhaps guide him out of the shapeless maze that the woods had suddenly become. Only one or two could be seen through the canopy of branches.

Gotta keep moving. I'll find a landmark soon. He ducked beneath the low hanging pine branches, entirely too aware of the noise he was making. Who else is working with Sugi? Who were the guys that grabbed me? I know the first one was Pierce, but who was the second? I know I've seen him before, but right now, I just can't place him.

He suddenly froze in mid-step, hearing a faint rustling behind him. When nothing jumped out at him, he carefully put his foot down, and began moving again, more cautiously this time. Focus, Tracy. This is no time think about the whos and whys.

He glanced at his watch, pressing the button so it would light, and holding it close to his body to hide it.. Getting close to curfew, he realized. Dom will miss me soon enough, but who's going to tell him where I've gone? Damn, wish I had my phone! I could call Fermat... That's when he realized that he didn't need his phone. It was all he could do to keep from smacking himself in the head. The watch! Why didn't I think of it before? I can call Gords, and get some idea which way to go. He can call Fermat, and let him know I'm in trouble. Just hope I can persuade him not to tell Dad.

With that he lifted the watch to his lips, pressed a button and whispered, "Gords? You there? Gordon?"

In Thunderbird Five, Gordon was watching a surfing contest broadcast live from the Pipeline at Oahu. "C'mon, Tank, c'mon," he muttered at the surfer. "That's it... that's it... ohhh!" He jumped and flung his head back, pressing his hands against his forehead, then throwing them in the air. "You doofus! I could ride that wave in my sleep!"

His diatribe against his friend was cut off when he heard a beeping from one of the consoles. "Huh? What's that?" A new window popped up on the computer screen next to him. "Incoming call... from Alan?! All right!" Pressing a few keys, he sat back and said, "Hey, what's up, bro! What's wrong with your picture? You have a power outage or something?"

"Shhh!" Alan hissed. "Keep it down!" He glanced around him. "I'm in trouble here, Gords, and I need your help."

Gordon frowned. "Trouble? What kind of trouble? Are you okay? I'd better patch you through to Dad."

"No! Don't!" Alan stumbled along in the dark, still trying to listen, walk, and talk to his brother at the same time. "Listen, Gords. I'm in the woods at Wharton, near the Hollow, and I've gotten myself turned around. I need to know how to get back to campus... and I need to know if there's anyone around me, too."

"Okay, okay," Gordon said as he pulled up a real-time satellite view of the East Coast and began to zoom in on Alan's GPS signal. He glanced over at the communication bank that would put him in contact with the island, and grimacing, switched it on, leaving the speakers to Five mute. "What's going on, Alan? What the hell are you doing out in the woods so late? You're going to miss curfew, and Dad'll hear about that, and you'll really be in trouble."

On the island, Jeff was surprised to see the comm feed from Five pop up in his computer screen. "Gordon? What's going on?"

"I know, I know! It's a long story, and I don't have time to tell it," Alan whispered. "Just help me out here. And I need you to patch me in to Fermat's watch, too. I'm gonna need his help, too."

Jeff hit the alarm button, bringing Scott, Virgil, and John on the run. A few moments later, Brains appeared, looking disheveled and carrying a pad of paper under his arm.

"What's the emergency, Dad?" Scott asked.

"I don't know; Gordon won't respond to my call," Jeff said, looking concerned.

Virgil glanced at John, who took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, shuddering. Brains held up a finger for quiet. "Shh! L-Listen." The other men glanced at him as he listened intently for a moment, then said, "It's A-Alan."

"Turn up the gain, Dad," John said, his moment of reaction over and his training coming to the forefront. "Gordon must want us to hear Alan, but not for Alan to hear us."

"And open up an IM window, so you can tell Gordon whatever you need to," Virgil suggested.

Jeff nodded, turned up the volume, and set about instant messaging Thunderbird Five.

"This have anything to do with that Sugimoto kid?" Gordon asked. The screen was zeroing in on his brother. He overlaid a photo of the area taken in the daytime, then added an infrared filter. The result showed a moving blue dot, which was Alan's position, and five red dots, two of which were stationary, and three of which moved.

"Yeah, it does," Alan replied. He tripped over a root, and his flailing hand caught a fir branch. It helped steady him, but also made a rustling noise that sounded loud in his ears. He bit off an exclamation.

"Okay, Alan," Gordon said, as he examined the screen. "You're going northeast, away from the campus. You need to turn around and go to your left. Problem is, there are two dots – I guess they're people – between you and the playing fields. They're closing in on your position. There's a third who is – make that was – moving away from you. Do you have any way of telling which direction you're heading?"

"No, none."

Brains piped up. "The w-w-watch has a compass function. It's the b-blue button on the l-left hand side of the face."

Jeff typed that in, and watched as Gordon reacted to the beep of the message window's appearance. He came fully into range of the camera, read the note, and nodded. Then he glanced up at the camera, smiled, and gave a thumbs up.

"Hey, you're using that watch, right?"

"Duh!" Alan had stopped walking, frustrated with trying to keep everything going at once. "If I were using my phone, I'd call Fermat direct."

"Okay, okay! Sheesh!" Gordon said, shaking his head. "I asked because I remembered that the watch has a compass function. It's the blue button on the left side of the watch face."

Alan peered closely at the watch face, and fumbled with the button. A lighted LCD compass face appeared in place of his brother's face, and showed him which way was north. "Sweet!" he whispered, as he turned to orient himself. "Okay. Thanks!" He pressed the button again. "Now, patch me through to Fermat, please?" he murmured as he began to move toward the southwest.

"Okay. Be careful, Alan," Gordon cautioned.

"Always, Gords," was Alan's hushed reply.

"Remind him to put on the hologram!" John said, as he sat down on the edge of his father's desk.

"There's no time for that," Jeff countermanded, as he typed a line into the message box. "He'll have to go without visual, that's all."

Gordon saw his father's recommendation a split second before he buzzed Fermat. He made a hurried adjustment, and turned off the visual.

On the outer edge of the playing field, the little group of rescuers - augmented by Xavion and a couple of his older friends – were about to enter the woods when Fermat's watch vibrated.

"Augh!" he cried, shaking his good arm.

"Shh!" both Qaeshon and Jason hissed as they looked back at him.

"W-Wait!" he said, lifting his good wrist to the broken arm. The others paused, watching him. "I think Alan's c-calling me." The fingers at the end of his cast fumbled with the buttons for a moment, then... "Th-There!"

"Fermat?" Gordon's voice came over the tiny speaker.

"Gordon?" Fermat replied, puzzled. "I th-thought it was A-Alan."

"It is. He's in trouble, and I'm patching him through. But keep it down. He's trying to stay quiet."

Fermat bit back the "F-A-B" that almost came out, and instead said, "Understood."

"Connecting you, now."

"A-Alan?"

"Fermat!" Alan's voice came through clearly even though he was whispering. "Sugi decoyed me out here. I got away from him, but he's hunting me, him and a couple of his buddies."

"W-We know about the decoy," Fermat replied, keeping his voice low. "Wh-Where are you?"

"On my way back to campus. But I'm not sure how far out I am. I'm trying to bypass the..."

"Alan? Alan?!" Fermat glanced up, wide-eyed, at his companions, who had gathered around to listen.

"Shh." Alan hissed. "I think I hear them." He stopped in his tracks, listening intently to the noises around him. There was a slight rustle behind him and to his left.

The long pause concerned both those at Wharton, and those on the island. Gordon, who was keeping an eye on the satellite view he'd set up, drew in a sharp breath. "They're closing in," he muttered to himself.

"Fermat?" Alan's whisper sounded out. "I'm moving again. They aren't far behind me."

"I'd better warn him." But as Gordon prepared to cut in on the frequency, he noticed Alan was moving again. "He's moving again, Dad," he said aloud.

Jeff's IM message came up, asking, "Which direction?"

Gordon studied the screen again, and his eyes widened. "Back toward the Hollow. They're herding him back toward the Hollow."

"He's got to tell Fermat!" Virgil cried. "Gords needs to tell Fermat!"

Jeff glanced at John, who shook his head. "He can't, Virge. How is he going to explain it to his friends?"

"Damn!" Scott said, scowling. "I wish I were there! I'd teach that Sugi..."

"Shh!" Jeff said, glowering at his sons. "I want to hear!"

There was some quiet discussion at Fermat's end. Finally, Fermat whispered, "Alan? M-Meet us at the H-Hollow."

"I'll try," Alan replied. "I'm still turned around... hey!" The last word was loud. "Lemme go, you...oof!" The sound of fist hitting flesh was audible, and Fermat paled.

"Okay, Tracy." The members of the little group exchanged horrified glances as they heard Sugi's voice. "Enough hide and seek. Back to the fire."

"I've heard enough," Xavion said, nodding decisively. "We'll start at the Hollow." He glanced over the group, and let out a deep breath. "Kay, you stay put and wait for Mr. Mag. Tell him where we've gone."

Qaeshon opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. "Okay, Zave."

The older brother smiled at the younger. "Good man. Brain? You're with me. Everyone, be quiet, and douse your lights when I tell you." He glanced around at the faces, scared yet resolute. "Let's go."

"Thunderbirds are go," Jason muttered under his breath.

Back on the island, Jeff pointed to Scott. "Prep Tracy One." Scott nodded, and strode from the room.

Jeff got up, then turned to Virgil. "Submit a flight plan, and get me ground transport. I'm heading to Wharton." Virgil nodded once, then took his father's place behind the desk. Jeff glanced at Brains. "Brains, get ready. You're coming along."

Brains tried to nod, but the collar he wore stopped him. "R-Right!" he said, putting up a finger. He followed Scott out.

"John, ask Kyrano to pack a bag for me, then organize some storage totes." Jeff was gazing at his youngest son's portrait, his arms folded.

"Are you going to bring Alan back with you?" Virgil stopped what he was doing at John's question. Both of them looked at their father expectantly.

Jeff glanced over at his older sons. "If he's in any condition to come home, yes. That's my plan."