A Price To Pay

"But how, Brains?" Tin-Tin asked, spreading his hands. "How did someone get hold of the process for making Formula C30/1? I mean, I'm sure someone could possibly come up with something similar...."

"This isn't 's-something similar', Tin-Tin," Brains said, pulling off thick spectacles to wipe them absently on a handy rag. "This is the, uh, real thing." Sighing, the engineer looked at Tin-Tin with concern. "I-I think your hypothesis of, uh, last evening is the most v-viable one. Those f-fits of yours...."

"Yes. Somehow they are tied in with this mystery," Tin-Tin said, hanging his head despondently and sitting down heavily. "But I don't understand how. I would never betray the Tracys or International Rescue."

Brains laid a hand on the Malaysian's shoulder. "I know, T-Tin-Tin. You would never, uh, consciously b-betray IR. If only there was a way I-I could, uh, monitor you when you had a f-fit. I f-feel that the answer is in your, uh, subconscious."

"Well, Brains, if you come up with an idea or a gadget, I'll be happy to do whatever it takes to solve this mystery." Tin-Tin squeezed the genius's hand. "I guess we'd better get back to work and figure out how these... things ended up holing Thunderbird Five."

"I s-suspect they were fired from somewhere on the, uh, moon, or from a s-satellite in the moon's shadow," Brains theorized. "Shot at such, uh, velocity that the p-projectile passed through the station easily."

"This had to have been planned for some time," Tin-Tin responded, frowning. "Time would have been needed to build the launcher and put it in place. Sounds like the work of a group of people, not just one man."

"You're thinking of the m-man of, uh, many faces?" Brains asked.

Tin-Tin nodded. "I just can't see how this could be the work of one person."

"You may have a p-point," Brains admitted. Moving to the black box, the engineer proceeded to download the recordings into the island's main database. "Let's get b-back to work, Tin-Tin, so we will, uh, have a complete report to give M-Mr. Tracy."

Jeff sat behind his desk, tapping a pencil on the desk top as he waited for Lady Penelope. He heard the door to the study open, and looked up to see Penelope descending the couple of steps into the lounge. She looked like a beauty pageant contestant, stepping down daintily, her pink bikini covering only the bare essentials and her tunic covering barely anything at all. He drew in a deep breath at the sight of her, then the memory of the pictures he had just viewed came swimming to the front of his mind and suddenly, he let the breath out quietly.

She smiled at him, that winning smile that had made his heart beat a little bit faster... once upon a time. He rose politely as she approached.

"Please sit down, Penny." Jeff's tone was non-committal as he gestured to a chair near his desk. She gracefully sat down and crossed her shapely legs at the knee. He came out from behind his workspace and leaned against the front.

"What's this all about, Jeff?" Penelope asked solicitously. "You sounded so... cold... when you called me up here."

Jeff said nothing, just held out a packet. Penelope took it with a small smile, and opened it. Her face twisted into an angry mask as she pulled out the contents and she muttered, "Those lying little bitches! They told me...." She stopped suddenly and looked up as she realized that the father of the "lying little bitches" was gazing down at her, an eyebrow raised, his face unreadable.

She closed the packet decisively and handed it back to him, her cheeks aflame. "So, the girls told you," she said sharply.

"No. They did not. I happened to overhear part of the conversation. As a matter of fact, I left a blanket nearby on the beach so that I could observe how you and the girls got along when I wasn't present," Jeff told her.

"Well," Penelope said, a small, relieved smile on her lips. "Then you saw how they treated me."

"And I saw how you answered them," Jeff shot back, the anger in his voice undisguised. "Then, after you left, I came forward and told the girls how disappointed I was in them. I told Mae I wanted all the copies of the pictures, hers as well as her photographer friend's. She brought these to me not long ago." Jeff looked down at the well polished toes of his shoes. "I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Mae even told me not to look at the pictures because, as she put it, I 'wouldn't like you any more'." He raised his eyes to meet hers squarely. "But my curiosity got the better of me. I had to see what had gotten you so angry that you threw the pictures into the fire."

Jeff sighed. "Mae was right. I shouldn't have looked at the pictures. Now I can never look at you again without seeing you... with him."

Penelope rose to her feet, pushing back the alarm she felt. She pressed herself to Jeff, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other alongside his face.

"Jeff. François means nothing to me. He was just a pleasant diversion. You... you are the man I really love. You can't fault me for what I did. It's not like you had spoken or had laid a claim on me. I was waiting for you, Jeff. But... a girl does get bored just waiting." She smiled at him, then closed her eyes and moved her lips toward his.

Jeff took her by the wrists and extricated himself from her grasp, throwing her off balance. She took a step back, puzzled, as Jeff put the desk between them.

"It's not just that, Penelope. I've always wondered why you wanted me, why you passed up men so much more handsome and younger for me. And having seen the pictures, I decided to look a little deeper into your possible reasons for pursuing me." He turned his computer screen around to face her. "This is what I found."

Penelope sniffed, and crossed her arms over her chest. "So? What does that mean? Why should a few paltry dollars come between us?"

"Penelope, Creighton-Ward Manor is mortgaged to the hilt. You have to have sightseeing buses come through just to keep it running. You've sold all your jewels and replaced them with paste replicas. Parker hasn't been paid for a month now, and Lil left when she got a better offer. Penelope, you're nearly broke and you've been dancing on the edge of bankruptcy for quite some time." Jeff looked at her and said softly, "Almost as long as I've known you. And definitely as long as you've pursued me." He straightened up. "My mother would have called you a gold-digger. And she would have been right."

There was a long silence. Penelope stood there, arms crossed, a haughty look on her face and in her stance. Jeff locked eyes with her, not backing down, his face expressionless, until finally she glanced to one side and would not meet his gaze again.

She sniffed. "So. What does this mean? Am I to be bounced not only out of your life but out of International Rescue as well?"

"No. I think I agree with my daughters there. You are a valuable agent and one that I cannot afford to lose. So you will remain as our London agent, if you so desire. And, I will pay you a generous stipend as well. Something to help you... keep up appearances."

"And Valentina? What of her? You do realize that she and I are good friends."

"I know. And I won't stand in the way of that friendship. Just let us know when you are coming to visit and you will be welcome." He picked up his pencil and tapped it against his chin. "Though, knowing how long it took for me to acquire these photographs, and knowing my girls as I do, I would venture to say that Mae showed them to her sisters. Including Val. You may not find your reception there as warm as before."

"I will take my chances." Penelope eyed the packets on Jeff's desk. "What will happen to the photographs? Will you let them be published?"

"No," Jeff said mildly. "You may dispose of them as you wish. Oh, and you'd better take this as well." He held out the data disk to her. She stepped forward smoothly and plucked it from his fingers, then dropped it to the floor and stomped on it with her heeled sandal. The shiny plastic disk shattered beneath the force of her blow. She left the pieces there and turned to leave.

"You and I would have made a wonderful couple, Jeff," she said, as she reached the steps to the study and turned to face him. Then she sneered, "It's strange. I would never have taken you for such a prude. After all, you and your precious Lucille must have carried on quite a bit to have produced five girls. Too bad you lost the knack when you lost your wife." She waved in the general direction of the desk. "Burn them." Then she turned again and stalked out.

Jeff sat back in his chair, blowing out a large breath and shaking his head. He tapped his chin again, and then reached over to toggle a switch on his household intercom.

"Kyrano? Do you know where Parker might be right now?"

Kyrano thought for a moment, putting aside his gardening magazine. "I believe he is in the game room, Mr. Tracy. I took two bottles of beer to him some moments ago."

"Thank you, Kyrano."

"You are welcome, Mr. Tracy."

Jeff thought for a moment more, then flipped the switch for the game room.

"Parker, this is Jeff Tracy. Are you down there?"

Parker finished his swallow of beer and put up his cue. "Yes, Mr. Tracy, Oi'm 'ere."

"Would you please come up to the lounge? I have a... business proposal to discuss with you."

In a old stone temple deep in the jungles of Malaysia, a lone figure stood before a statue. The statue of a young man in the prime of his life. A handsome young man with almond eyes and a ready smile. Flames danced around the image, making eerie shadows on the stone wall that curved behind the sculpture.

The figure contemplated the stone replica of the young man, then shook its head. Not yet. Not yet. But soon, my nephew, soon I will call upon you again to aid me in my acquisition of everything Jefferson Tracy holds dear. Starting with the destruction of International Rescue!