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				EXPOSURE by Fran Lavery Chapter Twelve       Jessica felt her head throbbing. All around her, a bleak blackness was all she could sense. For a long while now, possibly an hour, she had felt this dizzy semi-conscious whirl, uncomfortable and confusing. What was going on?       She tried to get a hold on her senses. Concentrating on what she was able to hear, she slowly tried to picture where she could be. Engine noises, adjustment of controls, whistling wind … she knew it all so well, but where from?       Her consciousness was growing stronger, slowly, painfully stronger. She told herself sternly to get a grip, and concentrated again. A plane! Of course! She was on a plane! And with that recognition, everything snapped into place, and Jess was very aware of everything that had happened over the last few days. That guy, with weird powers that she was somehow good at fighting instinctively, possibly her aunt's influence. Still, instinct alone was not enough to face a clear mystic master such as her captor, and he'd eventually fought her mind into submission.       Looking about her, she saw she was alone in a corner of a B52 flight deck, her top-half poking out of a sack that had clearly been her means of transportation in the last few hours. Moving foreword ever so slightly, (and painfully. Ooh, her poor head!) she peeked round the corner of the storage locker her right side leant against and at the pilot of the plane. Yep, it was the guy, all right. She had no idea who he was, why he needed her, or what had happened within the last twenty-four hours. She felt that he was a pro, after something important and difficult to attain. What did she have contact with that was barely attainable? Nothing, that's what.       He shifted in his seat, and she thought for a heart-squeezing moment that he was going to get up. He didn't, but what if he did soon, to check on her, or on something else and see her. Would she pretend to still be asleep, or fight him, or, best plan yet, try and find a way off the plane while he was distracted. There had to be a parachute and an inspection hatch somewhere.       Slowly and carefully, she removed herself from the sack that still contained her bottom half. Just as slowly, she rose to her feet and looked from right to left, keeping half an eye on her kidnapper to be sure he couldn't see her. She saw that the cabin was shut off from the rest of the plane by a steel bulkhead with a door in the centre. Removing her house shoes, (what she had been wearing when this bozo showed up,) Jess crept towards the door.       Her perfect plan was ruined by totally imperfect timing. Just as she approached the door, she felt the plane begin to drop forewords quickly. As she was thrown backwards off her feet, she noticed the change in the whine of the motors. They were landing. She crashed into some storage lockers on the left-hand side of the cabin and was thrown painfully forewords on her knees. Hell!       She tried to run again but her pilot, obviously aware of her consciousness now, made the landing a deliberately bumpy one. As he had anticipated, she smashed into the metal lockers on the other side of the cabin, headfirst, while he had been strapped into his seat and was perfectly fine, of course. She was momentarily dazed, and his grip was vice-like on her arm a second later as he picked her up and tried to frog-march her out of the front cabin door.       "How did you wake yourself, you vile witch? How could you awaken without my instruction or even my awareness? Did I underestimate your abilities? Do not think yourself so wonderfully strong, because I will win every time. Do you hear me…?!"       Sensing that these were rhetorical questions, Jessica had to satisfy herself with delivering a swift kick to his shin instead of smart-ass replies. Even bare-footed, she was rewarded with a grunt of angry pain, and was happy to note that because she would hardly keep still as she swung on his grip, he couldn't get her in the right position long enough to hit her. Result!       Yet, he managed to open the door and push her out, which was quite painful for Jessica. The drop was a fair distance, and she hit golden sand, inhaling half of it, and was choking and wheezing when he landed heavily beside her and grabbed her sore arm again.       Just, hell!       It was common knowledge that Scott loved his room. When they originally moved to Tracy Island, Scott Virgil and John, all independent by then, found that giving up the apartments they had owned, with all the privacy, was a little difficult to get used to. Therefore, when Jeff built all his sons' bedrooms at the villa, he added an outer room connected to the bedroom section. This provided them with living quarters that were is essence, small apartments, for when they didn't feel like socialising.       Scott had a television, a couch, a beanbag and a huge squishy chair in his room, as well as a million clever storage methods that hid all the junk he couldn't find a home for but didn't have the heart to throw out. He considered it all he needed. It was in blues and yellows, like his bedroom, and he loved it.       When Jeff poked his head round Scott's door, his son was sitting on this couch, with the television on, watching cartoons with Matthew. The old-fashioned puppet western was a Tracy family favourite, though Jeff could tell that Scott really wasn't absorbing anything as he stared at the screen with Matthew. No surprises, thought Jeff. With Jesse, Penny and John kidnapped and Matthew threatened, the whole island was edgy with nerves. He caught his son's attention and Scott came to the door to speak to him.       "What's wrong, Father? You look freaked."       "I am Scott. We've got a plane landed on the island without requesting permission. That guy's had enough time to get to England, turn around and come back, I reckon, so this could be it."       "So soon?" asked Scott with surprise.       "If this is him, then yeah. A very speedy jet out there, I can tell at a glance. Make yourself and Matthew scarce. I'll bleep your wrist radio if you need to escape with him."       "Sure Dad."       Within minutes, Scott and Matthew were walking briskly out of the back of the villa and down some discreet rock stairs that took the most direct route to the caves that were to be found all over Tracy Island.       Matthew signed to Scott as they hurried down the stairs.       "Huh? Oh, yeah. It's that guy we told you about, that freak who wants to take you away from Penny and Parker." Matthew grabbed at Scott's hand at the statement, and Scott felt renewed worry. That meant that the kid was relying on him. Trusting him. Oh great! What if he screwed up?!       "Don't worry, Honey," Scott smiled confidently. "You just stick with us and do as we say, and everything will be just fine. I swear!" Due to the speed they were trudging through the rocks, Matthew hadn't the chance to sign. Instead he smiled up at Scott; a grateful, trusting smile, and Scott felt his heart melt.       Now he really couldn't fail him.       Virgil glared at The Hood as he struggled with Jess and headed towards the villa. He'd been in one of the spare bedrooms in the Round House with his gun, waiting for the villain to show since he'd returned in Thunderbirds Two alone. He'd got changed into his civilian clothes again, knowing that Jessica would be with him. Operation Cover-Up was on, except that most of the house were armed. He had to admire his dad; even in the face of such tension and panic, he considered all the outcomes.       He was having trouble keeping a positive outlook on things. His head buzzed with morbid questions as he followed their progress from the sandy runway. Was Jess as healthy as she seemed to be? Where were John and Penny? What tricks did this guy have that they might not have considered? What were they going to do?!       His thoughts were interrupted by a bleeping from his watch-radio.       "Jeff calling Virgil," came next from the tiny speaker. "Come in, Virgil."       "Go ahead, Father," he said, without looking away from The Hood and Jessica.       "Scott's on his way down to the jetty with Matthew now, Son. He's going as fast as he can, but he has to go almost all the way round the island to make perfectly sure they're not possibly seen by the guy at the front. Once he gets there, the slightest word from us and they're both in that speedboat and heading for Moratoa Island. That's a fast launch too; the fastest we have outside of the International Rescue set-up. I don't want them speeding off in that baby unless it's really necessary, as they may attract coastal attention, and that's the last thing they need."       "Sounds like a good plan, Father. What about this joker? They're heading for the villa"       "Can you get a good aim?" Jeff's voice was more hopeful than convinced.       "Nah. They're tiny from up here."       "I thought as much." Jeff was silent for a beat, before saying, "I'll keep them covered. You get down as quick as you can and see if you can find Penny and John in that plane. The one hostage is enough, I think, and I'd like a full team again."       "Sure Dad. Over and out." Virgil gave them a final glance before turning and hurrying down to the distant runway. He hoped grimly that his brother and his friend were just hostages, and not victims…       The Hood finally manhandled Jessica to the top of the stairs that led to the house. She was stronger than she looked; constantly trying to throw him off-balance and into the shrubbery or onto the patio below. She was crazy! He couldn't wait until he got rid of her.       They entered the house and found themselves in the living room of the Tracy family. Jess looked all about her, wondering where everybody was, and why he'd brought them here in the first place. Maybe she was a ransom to the Tracys, but the mad man had said something about a little boy too. She couldn't figure it. What did she and the Tracys have to do with this poor little kid he was after?       They both spun round as the sound of a gun loading cracked behind them. Jeff Tracy stood; both hands wrapped round an unusual style of handgun, eyes unblinking on The Hood. His aim was perfect and steady, and he didn't falter as The Hood pushed his own gun tighter against Jessica's head, though she made his job difficult by swinging and pulling and refusing to stay still.       "Jeff! Jeff quick! Get him!" Jessica cried, trying to rid those eyes crinkled, wise of all the concern they had for her safety should he shoot. She continued to swing and struggle to try and give him a better target to aim for. The Hood could see that any second Jeff would be able to get a good enough aim, thanks to his hostage, and wasted not a minute to thought. As quick as a reflex, he focused his eyes on Jeff's and concentrated his powers.       "Oh no!" gasped Jessica, as she saw Jeff begin to waver under the hypnotic influence. She tried to cry out to him, to try and snap him out of it but her captor's abilities were too strong. Jeff dropped his gun to the floor in a trance.       The Hood laughed briefly. They were so weak. And now the great Jeff Tracy was in his power too. On to Chapter Thirteen.