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Chapter Text

The streets of Boston during the winter holidays were full of people: people off to work, people buying cheap presents in the post-Christmas sales, and people generally enjoying some time off with friends and family. In amongst the revellers walked a dull, lone figure; her faded black jeans, long grim grey coat, shoulder bag, scarf and hat were so average in appearance they rendered her all but invisible on the overcast day in the humdrum of the street. The eyes of commuters swept over her and shoppers didn’t spare her a second glance as they searched for more exciting prospects.

She walked calmly- her pace, like everything else about her, measured so as not to draw undue attention to herself. As one pushy commuter rushed past, she pushed her frameless glasses back up the bridge of her nose, and here -if anyone had been looking- someone might have noticed the first strange thing about her, for the fingertips of her gloves were made of a padded, yellowish gel and had a small blue screen set on the back of her hand. But nobody was looking, and the motion went unnoticed.

Slowly, she separated herself from the crowd and joined a throng of families and students winding their way towards the Museum of Science- an old brick building situated on a land-bridge which looked out both ways over the river. A blip on her glasses warned of security cameras in the vicinity and she tapped the small, blue square on the back of her left glove. Any cameras that now tried to focus on her would see only a blurry mess where her face and body should have been.

Inside the museum she knew that, as a publicity stunt, all staff who dealt with customers had been replaced with robots. The chrome humanoid machines floated around the entrances and exhibits, mostly offering recorded lectures or guiding customers to the nearest restrooms.

She joined the queue and paid her admission to the robot behind the counter. For a second, she was concerned that her anti-camera equipment had addled the robot, but a second later it passed back her change along with a map. She accepted it, even though from her previous excursion into the museum she knew the route by heart.

“Please take a moment to rate your experience with this robot,” the robot recited, its touchscreen showing five faces to choose from, rating from green- very happy, to red- very unhappy. She selected green and the robot’s face smiled.

Setting off at a confident pace, she walked through to the Margaret Hamilton Wing; past Andy the famous T. Rex automaton, the huge generator in the Theater of Electricity, and the exhibit on Nanotechnology. This last one was but a watered down educational version of her real target.

Down another floor and the mysterious woman in the grey coat boosted the strength of her electromagnetic disguise, so that she slipped by a robot, scanned a false ID card, and was through the door that the robot was guarding without it noticing.

Here came to the next obstacle- beneath the museum were labs that contributed to advancements of Nanotech; a technology which had been heavily monitored since the Global Conflict thirty years ago. Due to this, this part of the building was heavily enforced with eye scanners and fingerprint biometrics. This hardly fazed the mysterious woman.

She turned back to the door through which she had just came and observed the handle- here and there were greasy fingerprints where bare hands had opened the door. She pressed one of the yellowish gel pads on her fingertip over one such fingerprint and scanned it until a button on the back on her glove flashed green. As the gel formed itself to replicate the fingerprint, she pushed back the left sleeve of her jacket, revealing a dual portable computer strapped to her wrist. The holographic display linked the fingerprint to an employee, pulled up their social media and stole an image of their eye.

Her rimless glasses flashed and her eyes behind them changed from emerald to hazel. She pressed her finger on the pad and glanced through her glasses into the iris scanner. The door slid open.

A cold, brick corridor met her. Voices from a number of rooms could be heard further down and as she entered, a confused security guard walked out of the nearest room to meet her.

“Who are you? What are you doing-” he started, but she didn’t give him the chance to find out. From underneath her grey coat she pulled out a Taser and -dodging his outstretched arms- pressed the electrodes to his neck. His body shuddered and the guard dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Huffing slightly, she heaved his body into the storage cupboard opposite before turning to consider the guard’s office. While the rest of the museum operated on a separate system to the labs, in this office the cameras and computers seemed to be linked to both sides. This would serve her purpose and also give her an amount of forewarning should anyone come investigating.

She closed, locked, and stuck a chair under the handle of the door (just to be sure), and began to set up her own laptop from her shoulder bag next to the computers, linking them together with an assortment of cables. As the laptop started hunting through the files on the network system, her hopes were confirmed- she could steal the files she required for the job from here.

It so happened that the labs in this museum were joint with the closed systems of top secret labs across the country in research on Nanotechnology. She only needed one computer in the chain in order to access the information, and this museum was the weakest link.

Getting comfortable, she took off her hat, scarf, shoulder bag and jacket and draped them on the back of a swivel chair. Investigating on one side of the room she found an old metal duct shaft, just wide enough for a person if she needed to make an emergency escape. She pulled off the cover and looked up, making a mental note to check on the floor plan how far up the vent went.

The laptop beeped, calling for her attention. It had encountered resistance in the security system. Spinning back over on the chair, the information pinged over to her glasses and she inserted a USB into the main computer. It contained a virus which -when combined with a few lines of code she now programmed- bypassed and shut down the security system.

There was an unexpected momentary blip as all of the lights went out and all of the security screens turned off. In the single solitary light from her laptop screen, it took her a second to realise what had happened and a further five seconds to restore the lights from her laptop. Some stupid person cutting corners had put the security system on the same circuit as the power. Idiot.

She bit her lip as the camera feeds came back to life- people would have noticed the power had gone out for six seconds. How long before people came investigating?

Yet, as she glanced at the screens, she saw that on losing the power the automatic doors had closed and everybody was trapped inside their labs. Nobody could get out or in. Luck was on her side.

However, upstairs people panicked as the doors closed, the generators in the Theater of Electricity went wild and the robots insisted, “Please remain calm and stay inside.”

Chapter Text

John Tracy plucked a circuit board from an open panel in one of Thunderbird 5’s speakers. A mass of cables trailed out, including one which wasn’t connected to anything.

“There you are, you little troublemaker!” he muttered. With a quick bit of soldering, the cable was reconnected to its port. “EOS, has that made any difference to your audio?”

In response, a loud raspberry noise echoed through the speakers. The exact noise that John had been trying to pinpoint and repair for the last hour.

“Oh great,” John groaned. “Well, if it’s not that then what is it?”

“My audio equipment is fully functioning, John, as it has been for the past hour,” came EOS’s voice in perfect clarity.

“You mean you’ve been faking that raspberry noise every time you speak just because you wanted me to fix a cable?” John said incredulously.

“It serves you right for neglecting routine maintenance, you monster!” said EOS, her voice scandalised.

“I’ve been busy with rescues!” John fired back.

EOS made another long raspberry noise, under which John could just distinguish the words, “Captain O’Bannon.”

“EOS...” John started, but EOS cut across him.

“I’m receiving an emergency call from a museum in Boston,” the AI said, her LED ring turning yellow in concern and putting an end to their argument. The hologram of one of the museum staff appeared in the air before John.

“Hello? Please, help us!” The man cried.

“This is International Rescue. Remain calm and tell me what’s happening,” said John sternly.

The man reacted to John’s strong voice with a calming gulp before continuing. “There was a strange power cut through the Museum of Science a minute ago- all of the lights went out. But then they came back on a few seconds later and surged the system. All of the doors automatically closed and aren’t opening. Plus, the surge seems to have confused the robotic staff- they’re forcing everyone to stay inside and are stopping us from locating and fixing the problem.”

“Electrical surge and robotic staff,” John nodded. He remembered the Museum of Science from his days at Harvard. “Anything else?”

“Yes- we were right in the middle of a presentation in the Theater of Electricity; the world’s largest air insulated Van de Graaff generator in the world, don’t you know!” said the man with a touch of pride to his voice. John did know, but let him continue. “The audience all got out, but the staff who was leading the demonstration is still in there in an insulated cage, and we can’t get through to the room on the other side of the Theater where the off switch is!”

John started pulling up all the information he could find on the museum, so that he was surrounded by holograms of floor plans, coupled with information from CCTV detailing the movements of people and robots as well his own knowledge and memories of the layout from days off from University spent in the Stephen Hawking Observatory.

“What’s your name?” asked John as he cross-referenced everything that he had just been told.

“Eric.”

“Are you safe to stay on this line, Eric?” said John. He had reached live images of the Theater of Electricity and gasped. The cameras were thick with static but he could make out the Van de Graaff generator- two metal balls raised on pillars firing out huge bolts of electricity which sought out the bars of the containment cage to make a connection to the Earth. Surrounding it were many other tesla coils, all firing off sparks into the air.

“So long as we don’t try to escape, the robots don’t pay us any attention, but we’ll need to evacuate the Hamilton Wing- if that generator isn’t turned off then the lightning could cause more problems throughout the building, and that person in the cage is insulated for now but too much longer and the cage won’t be able to take it.”

“Understood; if you can ensure that people are evacuated into the observatory end of the building -as far away from the Theater as possible- and we will be with you shortly,” said John, minimizing the connection and calling up his brothers in the lounge on Tracy Island. “International Rescue; we have a situation.”

Chapter Text

Admin work for Tracy Industries was a tedious thing, but it was something that Scott had to get through. For the most part, the CEO and management ran the company, but every so often there was something which required the attention of the Board of Directors, which -as the sons of the original Founder- the five boys were all a part of. The brothers had nominated Scott as their lone representative for these dull matters and left him to it. He was going slowly square-eyed from reading the long report on the screen and was grateful when John’s hologram appeared in the middle of the sunken lounge area.

“International Rescue; we have a situation,” said John. Scott ran from where he was sat behind dad’s desk and heard the pounding of three sets of feet on the stairs as Virgil, Gordon and Alan came running in for the briefing.

“What’s the situation, John?” asked Scott, getting there first. Virgil was at his side in seconds and Gordon and Alan skidded to a halt on the polished floor.

“There’s been a surge at the Museum of Science- they have an out of control generator and robots who are forcing people to remain inside.”

“Wasn’t that the museum you once dragged us round while on spring break?” asked Virgil.

“That’s the one. The Van de Graaff generator is generating in excess of a million volts of electricity and there’s still a person trapped in the room with it,” explained John.

“Why doesn’t Van de Graaff turn it off?” asked Gordon.

“Because it’s the name of the machine, not the person who owns it,” John said, frowning at Gordon.

“Hey! We can’t all have fancy university degrees!” complained Gordon, throwing his hands in the air.

“I’ll brief you on the way; we need to move fast,” John turned to Scott.

“F.A.B. Gordon, Alan; you’re both with Virgil,” called Scott as he ran over to the lights on the wall. Virgil ran to the picture of the rocket on the opposite wall. “Thunderbirds are go!”

Scott pulled down the lights and the wall spun around. A short trip down the elevator later and Scott was in his uniform and stepping onto the loading arm that took him the distance over to the cockpit of Thunderbird 1 (in his mind came Grandma’s voice complaining about why couldn’t he have a handrail on the platform). He stepped into his seat and was transferred over to the cockpit. Starting the launch procedure, Thunderbird 1 glided down the rails as far above the swimming pool slid back. Scott flipped a couple more switches and Thunderbird 1 was blasting off.

His ‘Bird rocketed several hundred metres into the air before levelling off, catching up to Thunderbird 2 some distance below and overtaking it in an instant.

“I’m going to fly on ahead,” Scott told Virgil, opening up the throttle on Thunderbird 1 and breaking the sound barrier. “What are we dealing with, John?”

“Staff in the building are evacuating the customers away from the Hamilton Wing, but they’re still being holed in by the robots. The surge in power must have addled their programming,” John reported, the floor plan appearing in front of Scott with the marked areas in red. “The shut off to the generator is on the other side of the Theater of Electricity which, obviously, they can’t go near while it’s shooting off so many sparks.”

“You said there’s a person still in there. Are they safe?” asked Alan over the radio.

“They’re trapped in an insulated cage so the lightning can’t reach them, but they will be in real trouble if the generator turns critical.”

“Is there no other way to turn off the power?” asked Virgil.

“Maybe,” said John, and Scott could hear the hesitation in his voice. “Underneath the Hamilton Wing there is a series of labs, not open to the public, which from what I can find have been working on Nanotech.”

“For those without university degrees, that means technology which is really small!” Virgil supplemented with a smirk for Gordon and Alan’s benefit.

“There’s a secondary control and security room in these labs, but staff have reported the door has been locked from the inside. Nobody can get in. The security guard has just been found unconscious in a cupboard opposite and what’s more, this room is where the surge originated.”

“Sabotage?” Alan whispered dramatically. “The Hood?”

John frowned and shook his head. “The Hood would have declared his demands by now; he can’t stay silent for long. But my scanners show there’s nobody in the room now, so whoever it was has probably already escaped. There is a way into the security room via a small duct down from the first floor into the basement, so it may be possible to turn off the power that way, providing the saboteur doesn’t come back to cause problems.”

“Why haven’t any of the staff attempted that already?” Scott asked, as the West Coast of the USA came into view.

John hesitated for a heartbeat before answering, “Because the wing is being guarded by a giant rampaging robot T. Rex skeleton.”

Scott’s hands wobbled on the levers and Gordon and Alan burst out laughing in shock.

“Riiight,” Scott murmured. The memory returned of the spring break spent visiting John in Boston and the family being dragged to the museum. A young Alan had pulled Scott by the hand to visit Andy the robot T. Rex skeleton, and he realised the extent of the problem they were dealing with. “John, is there a way I can get past the robots into the Museum?”

“The robots are guarding all of the emergency exits, but if Thunderbird 1 drops you on the roof you’ll be able to get in via one of the ventilation shafts.” The shafts John spoke of were highlighted in green on the map. “But the building is old- I doubt the roof will be able to take the weight of the Thunderbirds landing.”

“Here’s the plan,” said Scott, taking charge. “I’ll land on the roof and make my way down to the security room via the shafts-”

“And Andy,” Alan added unhelpfully.

“Virgil- land Thunderbird 2 on the street out the front, find a way in through the observatory end and distract the robots while Gordon and Alan evacuate the museum,” Scott continued. “I’ll turn off the power to the generator and we’ll get that final person clear of the cage. Is that clear?”

A chorus of F.A.B.s came over the radio, and Scott dipped Thunderbird 1 below the cloud cover as he neared Massachusetts. The afternoon in Boston was grey and cold as Scott zeroed in on the roof of the museum.

“I’m at the museum,” Scott reported as he jumped out of the cockpit and landed on the roof. “I’m making my way to the vents now.”

“F.A.B. Scott, I have remote control over Thunderbird 1,” said John over Scott’s wrist communicator. His ‘Bird turned in the sky and hovered to a short distance away where it could land. “Thunderbird 2 is fifteen minutes behind you.”

“Always so slow,” Scott sighed in a sing song voice. He took the cover off of the ventilation shaft and peered down; the vent was a metre across with brushed metal panelling, and dropping a glow stick he saw that it must go down the two floors to the ground level. He eased himself into the shaft, his feet flat against the far wall, his back pressed against the other side and walked his way down.

Two minutes later, Scott kicked off the cover at the bottom of the vent and stuck his head out. The room in the Hamilton Wing was almost deserted, but for one feature. A few years ago, the museum had taken the skeleton of their resident dinosaur and fitted the bones to a mechanical frame so that it could move around the hall and react to customers. Now, the T. Rex turned at the noise of the vent cover hitting the floor. Its mouth opened revealing a hidden speaker, gave a tremendous roar and stomped down the hall towards him.

Scott kicked away from the vent before he became trapped in it and ducked behind a display. The robot dinosaur loomed around the corner and Scott leapt away just as the tail gave a powerful swipe, destroying the display and littering the floor with glass.

“John, any hints as to where this next vent is?” Scott yelled into his comms unit.

“On your three o’clock,” came John’s reply. Scott jumped over another sweep of the tail, ran behind a cabinet and looked where John had pointed. The next vent was at floor level on the opposite wall, with Andy between him and it.

A wild, insane idea came to him. In amongst the debris on the floor, Scott grabbed a metal pipe, stood bravely in front of the dinosaur and waved the pipe in its face. The skull swept from side to side as the cameras in its eye sockets followed the pipe through the air. Scott threw the pipe across the room and, like a dog chasing after a stick, Andy stomped after it. Until its programing decided that the fleshy human was more interesting than the pipe.

Thankfully, Scott was already across the hall and removing the second duct cover. As the T. Rex rounded on him, he lowered himself into the shaft and was walking his way down.

“Phew!” Scott breathed. Above, he heard the noise of the robot dinosaur snapping at the entrance to the duct, its recorded roar still going. Scott pressed the IR logo on his sash and felt his way down with his left hand. “I’ve made it past... um, Andy; proceeding down to the security room now.” His voice bounced around the duct.

“OK Scott. Sensors show that there’s nobody in the security room so your path is clear. Thunderbird 2 is now landing,” said John.

“F.A- argh!” Scott’s reply was lost as an electrical surge shot up the metal vent and found its way through the uninsulated parts of his uniform. His muscles juddered and his legs slipped so that he fell down the remaining three metres, landing heavily in a crumpled state.

“Scott? Scott! Are you OK?” John’s voice shouted urgently over his comms.

“Oww,” was all Scott could manage. He barely had time to register the screens in the security room before a figure loomed over him. This must have been the saboteur who had locked themselves in the room and caused the surge, but according to John they weren’t supposed to be there anymore.

His vision spinning, Scott had a glimpse of emerald eyes behind frameless glasses, then two electrodes were pressed against his neck. His whole body shuddered and the world went black.

Chapter Text

“Thunderbird 2, come in!”

“We’ve just landed; we’ll be breaking into the museum momentarily,” Virgil responded as John’s voice came in loud and urgent.

“I’ve lost contact with Scott,” said John, sounding alarmed. “He made it past the dinosaur skeleton and into the final duct, but something’s happened. I think he fell and now he’s not responding.”

“You don’t think there could still be someone in that room sabotaging the generator, do you?” Gordon murmured.

“What if that person is kidnapping Scott?” Alan cried in shock.

“But there’s nobody showing up on my scanners. If there is someone down there with him then they're blocking their signals,” John said.

Virgil bit his lip, thinking fast. Scott could well be in danger and in need of their help, but so was everybody else in the museum.

“We stick to the plan,” Virgil said firmly. When Gordon and Alan both showed signs of wanting to argue, he cut them off. “There are people trapped in that museum who need our help. We’ll evacuate them first and then we’ll fetch Scott. And if there is someone else down there, we’ll deal with them then. Our priority is rescuing these people.”

“You’ll need another way of turning off that generator,” John pointed out as Gordon and Alan fell silent.

“You said there was a turn off point at the back of the Theater?” said Virgil, pulling up the floor plan again.

“Yeah, but there’s a million volts of electricity between you and it.”

“I’ll go,” said Gordon, putting his hand up. “My rubber drysuit is the best insulated against electricity.”

Virgil nodded. “Then I’ll distract the robots while Alan makes sure everyone is evacuated.”

“And then we get Scott and kick the backside of whoever took him!” Alan added, punching the air.

“Let’s get a move on!” said Virgil, pushing a button to raise the Pod. He didn’t show it in front of the others, but he was just as worried about Scott and keen to find out what had happened to him, and they were wasting time sitting there talking about it. He made his way back into Pod 2, put on his helmet, suited up in the Power Suit, and grabbed a couple of explosives. Outside, he wired them up to the doors of the emergency exit, stood back and blew them off in a quick, painless flash.

“I was only meant to blow the doors off, and that’s exactly what I did!” he couldn’t help but quip.

Virgil stepped inside and was instantly greeted by one of the staff robots.

“Perimeter breach. Please remain calm and stay inside,” the robot recited, using its heavy humanoid body to try to push Virgil away from the door and towards the mass of people already crowded in the observatory.

“Not today,” Virgil grunted and pushed back. The eyes of the robot flashed red, no doubt identifying him as a threat. It swung at him with a heavy arm which he caught in the grab on his Power Suit and delivered a sharp right hook with the Jaws of Life. The robot’s head flew off which severed several important wires.

Without the door’s guardian, Alan and Gordon began shepherding people outside. However, the fallen robot must have sent out a summons, as two more robots loomed into the room and made a beeline for Virgil in his exo-suit.

“Looks like he had friends!” Virgil shouted.

“Do you want to move the fight away from the exit?” Alan shouted back. Virgil strode down the hall to meet the robots, deflecting a few blows and landing a few of his own.

“I didn’t think, this morning, I would be doing hand-to-hand combat with sentient robots!” Virgil yelled to nobody in particular.

“You’d better hope these robots don’t have any form of artificial intelligence, or they’ll start learning your moves,” said John over his comms.

“Please take a moment to rate your experience with this robot,” recited one robot, its screen flashing up with five faces to choose from.

“Definitely bad!” yelled Virgil, as the robot’s arm went flying off.

“Your feedback is important to us. How could we improve the service you have received today?” the robot continued, perhaps clocking Virgil’s tone.

“You could let us rescue these people!” he shouted, as he punched off the robot’s head.

“Please remain calm and stay inside,” recited another robot, moving forward to take the fallen one’s place.

“Yeah, John, these things are not learning!” Virgil said.

The crowd slimmed marginally and Virgil clocked Gordon rushing down towards the Hamilton Wing. Virgil floored one robot, then the other, then another loomed through the crowd.

“Any news from Scott yet?” Virgil huffed. Combat in the Power Suit was heavy work.

“Not yet, I’m still trying,” John replied. Virgil heard John hailing Scott in the background as he lured his attacker further away from the crowds and hoped that, wherever Scott was, he wasn’t seriously hurt.

Chapter Text

Gordon bolted the length of the Hamilton Wing, outstripping Andy the robot T.Rex before it had a chance to properly notice him and consider him as a target, through a door into a small waiting area next to the Theater and his hair stood on end.

“Wow,” Gordon murmured as he felt the charge run through his body. He prised open the door carefully and peered inside.

A magnificent sight awaited him- the surface of the Van de Graaff generator was burning white and shooting off great bolts of electricity into the air, as were the smaller tesla coils surrounding it. The generators were surrounded by floor-to-ceiling metal bars to protect the audience, and the bolts -seeking a way down into the earth- would hit these bars and make them glow white, though every so often a spark would find its way past the bars and hit one of the seats in the front row. The noise was deafening. Suspended in front of the huge generator was a human-sized insulated bird cage, in which the person who had been leading the demonstration was cowering, her eyes screwed shut and her hands pressed down over her ear defenders.

Gordon gasped. “Woah! This is worse than when Grandma tries to use the microwave!” He pressed the IR symbol on his sash, opening up a link to Thunderbird 5. “John, what am I looking for here?”

“There’s a door on the stage. You take the stairs down to the power room where you will be able to turn off the electricity to the generators manually,” said John calmly.

Gordon slipped on his helmet, stepped into the auditorium and looked for the door. It was on the other side of the metal bars that protected the audience. “Unfortunately, the door is on the wrong side of the lightning. Any helpful tips as to how not to end up looking and smelling like Grandma’s cookies?”

“Keep low to the floor. The lightning is looking for routes into the earth, and its main target will be anything upright,” John replied.

“Don’t be upright. Got it!” Gordon crawled down the steps into the auditorium as he heard John address Virgil and Alan, before attempting to hail Scott again.

“Scott, can you hear me? Please respond,” called John.

Finally, there came a reply.

“Scott can’t come to the phone right now,” said a voice as smooth as silk. “Please leave a message after the beep.”

Gordon paused halfway down the steps, his heart pounding. John stammered over the comms.

“What- who are you? Where’s Scott?” John yelled in shock.

“Scott’s fine, he’s right here with me.” The voice (a woman’s voice with a British accent) turned harsh. “He’s just a little... tied up right now.”

Gordon suppressed a groan at the obvious pun.

“If you’ve hurt him in any way-” Virgil snarled down his microphone, but the woman cut across him.

“I assure you he is perfectly safe, so long as you don’t try anything.” It occurred to Gordon that this kidnapper must be using Scott’s comms unit to be able to talk to them on this secure frequency. The thought made his stomach churn.

“What do you want?” Alan yelled desperately.

“I merely want to get on with my job,” the woman replied fairly, but none of them felt inclined to trust her. “I have no quarrel with you, International Rescue. The generator was one of those quirks of fate... an accident-”

“Yeah right!” Virgil scoffed.

“So here is my bargain-” the woman ignored him. “I’ll let you evacuate the museum, you can rescue anyone that needs to be rescued, and then when I’m finished here I’ll go free and you can collect your pilot. But if you try to stop me, or call the police or the GDF -whatever- then I will make things very complicated for Scott here.”

Gordon shuddered at the obvious threat.

“Who are you?” John repeated quietly.

There was a pause before she responded- “You can call me The Hacker.”

And with that, the link to Scott’s comms was switched off. The brothers were silent until Gordon spoke-

“Anybody whose first name is The can’t be a good guy!”

Chapter Text

Unseen by John, EOS’s LED ring had turned a full burning red.

“What do we do?” Alan asked. His tone was fearful as he paused in the action of evacuating customers while the brothers had listened to the Hacker’s threats.

“How is that possible?” said John, opening his concern to anyone who would listen. “My scanners only show Scott in that room. The Hacker is hiding her vitals from me.”

“We’ve seen the Hood use similar tricks,” Virgil reminded John over the noise around him.

“We need help dealing with this Hacker. We need reinforcements,” said John. EOS’s monitor turned to him.

“But what if she hurts Scott?” Gordon yelled over the static filling his comms. He was still paused in the centre of the auditorium, torn between rescuing the trapped employee and running to help his big brother.

“Could we call Kayo?” Alan suggested.

“Kayo is still on assignment with Colonel Casey- it might take her too long to get to you guys,” John said. EOS waited, too tense to move.

“Wait- would the Hacker know if we called for backup?” Gordon asked. They all went silent. What if it was possible that the Hacker was listening in on their frequency as they spoke?

“Nnng! Do as she says and stick to the original plan for now,” Virgil grunted, his war against the robot staff still ongoing. “Rescue the customers and staff first, then Scott. We can’t risk the Hacker hurting him before we get to them.”

Alan, Gordon and John all nodded resolutely. John muted the communications to his brothers and turned to EOS.

“Is it possible to get in touch with Kayo where she is without the Hacker intercepting our communications from here on 5?” John asked EOS, his heartbeat betraying how anxious he really was.

EOS answered quickly. “If the Hacker was able to use Scott’s comms, it’s possible for her to monitor all International Rescue communications across all our known frequencies.”

John frowned and nodded, before regarding the monitor with a queer expression and EOS realised too late that her LED ring had flashed between red and yellow when she’d spoken. As John’s rapid heartbeat had betrayed his anxiety to her, so her subconscious colours had betrayed her fear to him.

Her LEDs fell back to a single, neutral white dot. “Um...”

“I’m scared too, EOS. But we’ll get Scott back, don’t worry,” John said with a reassuring look before returning to where the hologram was flashing up an update in the Theater. EOS stayed quiet and let him think that was what she was concerned about. As John pulled up a channel to speak to Gordon, EOS remained silent.

Chapter Text

Scott gave a soft groan as he regained consciousness. His whole body had that cold numbness which he associated with receiving a shock and his head swam painfully. Somewhere above him, someone was talking; he tried to focus on the words.

“Here is my bargain- I’ll let you evacuate the museum, you can rescue anyone that needs to be rescued, and when I’m finished down here I’ll go free and you can collect your pilot.”

The words applied to Scott, but he couldn’t think why. Then it came back to him- the Museum, the duct shaft, the electric shock that had knocked him out-

“But if you try to stop me, or call the police or the GDF -whatever- then I will make things very complicated for Scott here.”

Scott forced his eyes open. He was sat on the floor facing the security screens and sitting on the chair above him was his attacker speaking into his wrist comms unit. He tried to move but found that he had been restrained to a thick pipe running from the floor to ceiling, his wrists bound behind his back and around the pipe by inflexible cable ties. Looking down, he saw his ankles were also lashed together.

“Who are you?” came John’s voice through the comms.

The woman bit her lip, as if wondering whether to answer, before she said, “You can call me The Hacker.” Then she pressed a button and his brothers’ responses were cut off.

“You won’t get away with this!” Scott yelled, kicking out with his bound feet but not even coming close to the chair she was sat on. The Hacker turned to face him properly and Scott was able to get a good look at her- Her glasses were frameless, and were flashing blue as information pinged up on them. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight, uniform ponytail with a loose strand falling around her face. She wore black trousers, a shirt the shade of yellow that Gordon would have been proud of, and gloves fitted with computers not unlike the ones that International Rescue used themselves. She was slight and petite and couldn’t be any older than Scott was.

Her thin lips pressed into a cruel smile. “Oh. You’re awake. How dull.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” Scott grunted. He tried to wriggle his wrists loose but the restraints held tight.

“I am the Hacker, and I want you to sit there quietly whilst I finish my important work,” she smirked.

“You’re after the research on Nanotech,” Scott deduced.

“My, you are clever, aren’t you?” Scott was already growing to hate her patronising tone and British accent.

“You won't get away with this, Hacker, my brothers will stop you,” said Scott, his confidence swelling at the thought that his brothers would be battling their way through the building now, but a look at the security screens disproved his claim. He could make out amidst the throngs of people Alan paused in the act of evacuating, Virgil battling the automated robots in his exo-suit, and Gordon in the Theater, nearly indistinguishable through all of the static fogging up the screen.

The Hacker tisked lightly. “I’m monitoring your frequency; I can hear them wittering on right now- Who is this Kayo they’re going on about?” She pointed a finger towards her earpiece and Scott felt his stomach knot at her knowledge of them. “They’ve decided they don’t want to risk me hurting you and will come and get you once the rescue is over, which is absolutely fine by me. But I assure you, if they do try anything before I’m finished then I have enough power from this room to bring the generator down on top of them.”

“And us,” Scott pointed out.

“Then they’d better not force my hand.”

“Please, just turn off the generator,” Scott said, changing tactic. “There’s a person stuck in the middle of that lightning storm, we need to get to them and get them out of there.”

The Hacker turned back to her laptop, and a quick inspection of the security screen showed Scott that the generator was still on, his pleas ignored. In amongst the static, he could see Gordon working his way down towards the generator and he paled.

Scott cast his mind around wildly. The Hacker had both of his wrist armaments so he had no chance of cutting himself free with his laser. He tried to touch his chin to the IR logo on his sash but discovered a small incision between the I and the R, severing the wires. He gave a small huff in irritation and the Hacker turned to him briefly.

“Your brother was being rather insistent about getting in touch with you,” she said, interpreting the direction of his gaze. “Just sit there nice and quietly while I work, and when I’m done they can come and get you.”

Scott glared mutely and resigned himself to twisting his wrists around in his restraints, hoping to perhaps work the plastic loose.

Chapter Text

“Stick to the plan; rescue the customers and staff first, then Scott. We can’t risk the Hacker hurting him before we get to them,” Virgil's voice said over his comms. Gordon nodded grimly and (pushing his worry for Scott to the back of his mind) returned his full attention back to the generator. He made it down to the floor of the Theater- most of the electricity was contained within the bars, but there was so much of it that every so often a bolt found its way through and hit a plastic chair which would twist into a melted, charred crisp.

“You need to stay low to the ground,” John reminded him. “The lightning is looking to find the route of least resistance into the ground- you can’t let it make that connection through you.”

“OK, here goes nothing,” Gordon gulped and laid down flat on the concrete, crawling along like a gecko. He gained confidence after a minute in his insulted drysuit, and when the employee trapped in the insulated cage clocked him he managed a reassuring, cheeky thumbs up.

Gordon moved swiftly from the auditorium to inside the bars, then even quicker to the door down to the main power room. He ran down the stairs and was faced with a number of switches and red critical readouts.

“What am I looking for, John?” Gordon shouted into his comms.

“You’re looking for the Master Override switch to the Theater,” John replied. A quick search and Gordon found the biggest switch, handily labelled for him.

“Got it!” He pulled the switch down, and the booming stopped as the lightning ceased. “That did the trick!”

“Great, now get that person out of the cage,” said John, the note of relief evident in his voice.

Gordon climbed up the stairs. The generator and Tesla coils were no longer burning white, yet there was still an ominous hum in the air. He called to the person in the cage- “Hi! International Rescue here to save the day!”

“Don’t touch anything!” the woman in the cage shouted back. Gordon was too late in heeding the advice as he brushed against a metal surface, was thrown several feet across the room and landed heavily on the floor, the electric shock hurting even through his drysuit.

“Ow! What gives? I thought I turned off the power,” Gordon said, shivering slightly as the cold from the shock spread through his limbs.

“Don’t touch anything! Everything metal in here is still charged,” the employee informed him.

Gordon frowned. “So how am I supposed to get you out of there?”

“Get one of the metal earth rods from the power room and use it to discharge anything metal, but remember- only hold the rubber part of the handle.”

“OK.” Gordon found the rods she was referring to and with each tap on a metal surface, the rod pinged with the electric discharge. Gordon worked his way over to her slowly until finally he had made it to the cage. “Gordon Tracy at your service!” he said with a mock bow as he opened the cage door and the employee jumped down. “Come on, let’s get you to safety.”

Chapter Text

“It has been interesting to meet you, Scott Tracy,” said the Hacker as she loaded her bag back up with her equipment and zipped up her coat, once again hiding her technology and bright shirt under her plain exterior. She knew that once she was out of this room nobody would ever suspect that she’d had a hand in this dilemma.

Scott glared up at her from his place on the floor- he had gone quiet as he watched his brothers perform the rescue and had cried out as the one in the Theater of Electricity was thrown back by a discharge, but other than that he hadn’t proved to be much of a problem.

None of this felt right. She hated leaving loose ends, and while she had been hacking for profit for years Scott Tracy was the first person to be able to put a face to her name. Without a way to make him forget her, there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it. She supposed she could use the Nanotechnology she had just stolen to reprogram his mind to forget about her, but that would take too long as she didn’t yet know how to program the Nanotech.

Oh well, she thought. Chalk it up to experience and bring a blindfold for next time. The whole experience had certainly been an education for her where International Rescue were concerned.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Scott growled in frustration. “Don’t think that we’re just gonna let you go free, Hacker,” Scott fumed. The Hacker noticed that some of his fight had drained out of him as his struggle against the restraints proved fruitless. “We won’t forget this, and one day you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Skip the lecture,” the Hacker sighed. With a quick glance towards the security screens, she saw that the coast was clear to make her escape. “For your sake, hope that our paths never cross again.”

The Hacker ignored the rest of Scott’s yells as she clambered up the duct, bored of extended goodbyes. Her progress hindered marginally by her equipment, but she made it out of the other end of the duct with no issues... until she was back in the Hamilton Wing.

Her sweep of the security cameras below had shown there to be no humans on her route out. She had forgotten about the only other thing apart from her to not show up as a lifeform-

Andy did not look pleased to see her.

Chapter Text

“Please report this robot to a member of staff within the museum using reference number 0, 0, 0... 0, 0, 0...”

The floor of the Hawking Observatory Wing was littered with robot parts so that it appeared to Alan’s video game mind that a great cyber war had taken place. Virgil was striding onwards out of the middle of all of the wreckage while Gordon had gone on radio silence as he attempted the rescue. With John’s guidance, Alan had located most of the groups of people trapped in the museum, here and there picking up stragglers, until they had systematically worked their way into the Hamilton Wing.

“There’s still the people down in the labs,” John reported. “But baring them, it looks like that should be everyone on this level.”

“Great,” Alan huffed. Running around the museum was tiring work, and as he nearly slipped on a robot arm he lamented how the whole place would need a refurbishment before it reopened and he doubted the museum would ever take robots onto their payroll again. “How’s things looking with Gordo?”

“He took a bit of a shock, but he’s fine and making his way up out of the Theater now with the employee,” said John.

“Great! But we still need to get Scott-”

The rest of Alan’s reply was cut off by an ear splitting roar. Up ahead, Andy the robotic T.Rex skeleton had found a new toy to play with and was going wild as below him a woman did her best to avoid the blows being dealt her way. Any exhibits that the dinosaur had missed when Scott had passed through were now trampled into pieces and the woman was fast running out of places to hide. As Andy went for another great sweep of its tail, she cowered with her bag over her head; she seemed to have become petrified to the spot.

“Look out!” Alan yelled, and with a leap he tackled the woman to the floor, the dinosaur’s tail missing them by inches.

“Thank you,” the woman gasped, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. As they watched, Virgil ran past them and used the jaws of life on the Power Suit to hold off Andy. Alan pulled the woman to her feet and together they ran in the opposite direction towards the exit.

“Alan, where are you going?” John asked in confusion.

“I’m just evacuating someone, I’ll be back in a sec, John,” Alan said.

“What? But Alan, it’s just you, there’s no one on the scan-”

John’s voice broke off at the same time that Alan noticed the earpiece the woman was wearing and the way she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Alan! Be careful!” John yelled, but it was too late. The Hacker elbowed Alan sharply in the stomach, winding him, and she bolted out of the exit, her grey coat flapping behind her in the wind.

Alan regained his breath, straightened up and tried to pursue her, but she was already lost into the crowd of those who had been evacuated and were now being checked over by the emergency services. Alan’s shoulders slumped weakly as he touched his sash logo.

“John, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was her...” Alan cried.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Alan. I should have realised sooner. I put you in harm’s way by mentioning it...” John’s voice trailed off and Alan felt a wave of sympathy for him- stuck up in space, worried about multiple brothers and unable to do anything about it.

“It’s neither of your fault,” said Gordon, as he joined Alan with the woman from the Theater in tow. He handed the woman over to a waiting paramedic and set a reassuring hand on Alan’s shoulder. “Come on- let’s make sure Scott’s OK.”

Alan’s chest tightened. That’s right- for all they knew, Scott was still possibly in peril. Together, they turned and ran back into the museum.

On reaching the Hamilton Wing, they saw Virgil flooring Andy with a powerful overhead flip and the T.Rex did not get up again.

“Ooh, that’s going to have a few broken bones,” Gordon quipped.

The three of them made their way down to the basement level and popped open first the security door (the lab technicians rushed past them gratefully) then the door to the guard’s room. Scott was sat and bound where the Hacker had left him- irritated, but otherwise unhurt.

“Scott!” Alan exclaimed.

“Hey, any chance you could get me out of these?” asked Scott, and Virgil moved into the room to snip away the cable ties. The two older brothers exchanged a few quiet words before Scott stood up and rubbed his wrists gratefully. Alan and Gordon pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m fine!” He muttered through gritted teeth. He pointed a thumb towards a screen. “Was that the Hacker I saw get away? The picture was blurred.”

“Scott, I’m so sorry,” Alan cried into his big brother’s chest. “I didn’t know it was her, I thought I was rescuing someone...”

“It’s fine, Allie,” said Scott, rubbing his hand through Alan’s hair. “Rescuing people is what we do, after all. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Scott and Virgil exchanged a grim look and Virgil said, “Come on, let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

Despite the comfort of getting home, the stress was far from over. John had alerted the Global Defence Force as soon as they had confirmed that Scott was safe, and as they took off from the museum they saw the grey planes swooping in. The GDF teams hunted through the computer files but were unable to ascertain which files the Hacker had copied and stolen, though the scientists had their suspicions. Their forensics team went over the room she and Scott had been in with a fine tooth comb but despite a few strands of DNA they found little that could possibly lead them to her current location. The security footage was reviewed in much the same way, but every image of her was blurred into a grey mess. The only person able to give any kind of accurate account of her was Scott.

John spared Scott the hassle of having to talk about the ordeal as he flew Thunderbird 1 back to the Island (the eldest brother shouting down Virgil who had tried to insist that Alan fly TB1 and Scott rest in TB2), but on landing he and Gordon were accosted by Grandma and a mountain of blankets to help with the electric shocks they had received. Gordon was bundled up warm and Alan had taken to building a pillow fort around him while Scott had to be forced into wearing his by Grandma as he paced back and forth in the Lounge.

Scott had given his statement to the GDF and answered all of their questions with as much detail as he could, until finally their artists could build up a composite sketch. Out of the corner of his eye, Scott saw Virgil taking notes before disappearing over to his own easel.

One by one his interrogators got all of the information they could gleam from him and their holograms disappeared until finally only Colonel Casey was left on the centre table.

“Has the GDF really never come across this Hacker before?” asked Scott.

“We’ve had reports of information being stolen or tampered with, but never before have we been able to get a look at the person responsible, or any accurate description,” Colonel Casey admitted. “It’s possible that you’re the first person to know what the Hacker looks like.”

“A small consolation if you don’t know where she’s going to strike next,” said Gordon from his fort on the sofa.

“Now that we can attribute these crimes to one person, we know where to start. Rest assured, the GDF will find the Hacker,” Colonel Casey said firmly, before adding to Scott, “And do rest. You boys did a good job today.”

“Understood,” said Scott. Colonel Casey’s hologram flickered off and Scott walked over to join Virgil. Their resident artist had made his own quick composite painting based off of Scott’s description, though it was only basic at this point- it didn’t have the cruel smile or glint behind the glasses, but the likeness was there.

“Is that your culprit?” asked Virgil, turning to face his brother. Scott nodded, his gaze fixed. “The GDF will deal with her. Don’t worry.”

But Scott shook his head and his gaze deepened. “I doubt this will be the last time we meet, and next time I’ll be ready for her.”