DECEPTIONS

By Spense

Disclaimer: I don't own, made no money, etc.

Movie-verse (but can be read either way)

Chapter One

Scott Tracy walked across the cold, snowy street, head down, moving quickly. Of all of the insane things he and his family have had to deal with, this one really took the prize. It was by far the worst in a long time, and frankly, made the least sense.

He lived an unbelievably wonderful life. Second in command of International Rescue. That was enough right there. He also lived a life of wealth and privilege as the son of Jefferson Tracy, billionaire ex-astronaut. He and his family were truly some of fortune's favored few. Things like this weren't suppose to happen to people like them. One would think his father's wealth could protect them from the sort of disaster forced upon them now, but no, it actually seemed to make them more of a target.

Scott pulled open the door of the typical state building. Drab, slightly run down, always short of funds. He felt out of place here in his expensive long wool coat and cashmere muffler. Both the long black coat and his dark Italian wool slacks were dotted with snow. He made his way to the desk, tapping his black leather gloved fingers against it absently as he requested directions to his destination.

The Christmas carols and bright festive lights were a jarring note to him, given what was going on. Christmas should have been a time of joy and laughter, as it usually was in the Tracy family. Hiding presents, and nosey brothers trying to find them. Lots of good food, and good company. But not this year. Scott's heart ached for all of them, but especially for his father. This situation was just tearing him apart.

Jefferson Tracy had been beside himself when he'd dispatched Scott on this errand. He was tied up with the cadre of high powered attorneys he had working on the problem. Scott was just grateful that Lady Penelope was there with his father. He wasn't sure he would have been able to leave him otherwise.

Scott reached the designated floor, all the while thinking of his father's haunted face. The accusation was absolutely ludicrous, but it still had just about destroyed his father when he had received the news. His father was a good man. He was a fair man as well. The charges leveled were patently impossible to anybody who knew Jefferson Tracy, but it would be tough to defend against them. An overzealous accuser, and they, particularly his father, were suddenly on trial, guilty until proven innocent.

The woman at the desk looked at him suspiciously as he gave his name. He thought for a moment that she was going to deny him access – she looked as though she wanted to. She eyed him again, taking in the richness of his clothing, the expensive leather gloves and shoes, and his unseasonable tan.

He wanted to shout at her not to believe appearances, that things were seldom as they first appeared. Reluctantly she got up to escort him the rest of the way. The calls from the attorneys had paved the way, and she had no choice, but she made it clear that she wasn't happy about it. Not one bit.

Scott bit his lip, thinking about his desperate father, aghast brothers, and the rest of the others at the island – all devastated. It had difficult for Scott to leave for this errand right now. He desperately wanted to come, no question there. He was alarmed to think about what he might find, but they all needed to know. He urgently needed to see where things stood, but he was just as worried about his father. Talk about a choice made in the farthest dark nether reaches. But this errand was just as important to his father right now. Jeff had insisted that Scott go, he'd felt it was far more critical than any support he himself needed at the moment. Thank heavens Penny had been there, so Scott hadn't had to make a choice. He had just been able to come, knowing Lady P had everything under control for the moment.

They stopped at a non-descript door – just like all the others along the hallway. Scott thanked the woman politely, flashing a hint of his devastating Tracy smile. She didn't thaw one bit. She knew what she believed. Turning on her heel, she left him at the door. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he put his hand on the door knob. This was going to be painful, no doubt about it.

Scott quietly entered the small, dingy room. Over by the window, dejection in every line of his body, he could see his youngest brother, Alan. He was watching the snow, forehead leaning against the cold glass. Scott's heart went out to him. At the sound of the door closing shut, Alan came to life. His head whipped around, and there was a frozen instant where he took in his older brother. Then he was moving fast.

He slammed into Scott so hard that his older sibling lost his breath for a moment. Heedless of Scott's damp wool coat, still dotted with snow flakes, Alan clung tight, burying his face into his brother's shoulder.

"Well, that's quite a greeting," Scott commented lightly, his arms going around his little brother and squeezing him tight. The strength of his embrace belied the lightness of his words.

Alan's voice was muffled. "They said I had a visitor, but they didn't say who," he finished breathlessly, not moving an inch from Scott.

Scott closed his eyes for a moment. He'd been afraid of this. His father had been petrified about what Scott would find in the first place, and about the desolation he would leave after breaking the news. "Are you okay kiddo?" He asked softly to the top of Alan's head.

Alan nodded into his shoulder, holding desperately onto his big brother.

"Alan," he said gently, "I really need to know."

Alan gave a convulsive shudder and began to disengage himself. Scott made sure he kept an arm draped loosely over the boy's shoulder as he guided them to the chairs.

'Yeah," Alan said gloomily, "I'm just fine."

Yeah right, Scott thought. They were all just peachy right now. Scott reached out and tipped Alan's chin slightly so that the light reflected on his bruised and swollen cheekbone, eye and nose. He whistled softly through his teeth. "That is a beaut." Besides his eye, Alan's nose was still swollen and slightly crooked as well. "How bad does it hurt?"

Alan sighed, leaning in closer to Scott, loath to let him get too far away. "Tons," he sighed heavily. "Who knew Gordon could hit so hard."

Scott would have laughed had the situation not been so serious. Alan had been helping during a rescue over the Thanksgiving break as part of his training. His father had him on Thunderbird Two, observing, and helping direct 'traffic' when the survivors were loaded into the Thunderbird. A man had been going ballistic, seriously endangering the others as the platform was coming back into the pod. Gordon had moved to hit him and knock him out. Unfortunately, the man had ducked and Gordon had caught Alan a good one.

"And the ribs?" Alan had hit the side of the rescue platform pretty hard, bruising his side as well.

Alan shrugged. "They feel like bruised ribs. What else can I say." Before Scott could reply, Alan asked the question his brother had dreaded. "Is Dad here? Did they want to talk to him before he came in? Does this mean I get to go home now?"

Scott paused a moment before speaking, then broke the news bluntly. "No. They have a restraining order against Dad. He can't see you, speak to you, or come within 100 yards of you."

Alan looked up in shock. Scott was concerned at the paleness of his brother's face. " . . . what?"

Scott puffed his cheeks, and exhaled heavily. "I know. Ludicrous. But think about it from their point of view."

"But . . ." Alan tried to make sense of it.

Scott spelled it out for him. "Alan, the state has brought charges of child abuse against Dad. They haven't gotten an explanation for your black eye that they are comfortable with. And think about when you started the term this year. Broken collar bone, remember?" Scott could see Alan reading between the lines. Good thing the kid was quick.

They had no good explanation because they couldn't release the fact that they were International Rescue. Besides, Scott wasn't sure that would even help. How many people were going to look kindly at having a 15-year-old-kid anywhere near a Thunderbird anyway? Good grief, what a mess.

Scott could see Alan processing all of this without him having to say a word. Now was the time to get him to understand what he needed to do. "Alan, listen to me carefully. I need you to stay cool through all of this. No running away, no fights, no backtalk, nothing. Remember that anything you say or do will reflect directly on Dad. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do. You have to do NOTHING."

For Alan to do nothing was like telling the wind not to blow. But Scott needed him to understand the seriousness of the situation. "Dad is doing everything he can. He has Schaeffer Bradley and the rest of his attorneys working around the clock. But Alan, you have to know that the state wants to take you away from us. We have to be extremely careful right now. Please don't do anything to jeopardize our case. Please!"

Alan seemed to shrink into himself at Scott's words. His eyes were huge and horrified. "Scott . . . how can he . . ."

Scott knew what his little brother was trying to say. 'How were they going to get out of this one without telling about International Rescue.' But in Scott's opinion, SAYING anything about IR would just make the situation worse. "I don't know, Alan, but we're working on it. Just be very careful about what you say and do. I know it will be hard."

Alan hesitated, horror-stricken, then asked softly, "But I can talk to Dad on the wristcomm sometimes, right?"

Scott hated to destroy his little brother's hope. He slowly shook his head, detesting himself more every moment.

"But I'll only use it in an emergency," Alan argued desperately. "I promise!"

Scott seriously doubted that Alan could keep that promise. And even if he could, he KNEW his father couldn't. Jeff himself knew it, and had asked Scott to retrieve Alan's wristcomm, even while knowing how Alan would feel. The stakes were just too high to allow even one small misstep.

"I'm sorry, Al," Scott whispered, and gently reached out and unfastened the 'watch' from Alan's wrist. "What do you think would happen if someone found you talking into your watch? How would you explain that?" Scott tried to lighten the mood as he dropped the wristcomm into his coat pocket. "We don't need to have you committed for mental problems on top of everything else, do we?"

His attempt didn't work. Alan just ignored it as he stared at his older brother in absolute disbelief. "Scott, no . . .," he whispered anxiously, feeling like his last link from home was taken away from him.

Before Scott could say anything to ease his brother's mind, the door opened and the woman who had escorted Scott to the room looked in. Eyes cold, she looked at Scott and stated, "Time's up Mr. Tracy. You have to leave now."

Alan was just frozen, hardly comprehending what he'd just heard. He looked at Scott as his brother got up. Scott leaned down to hug him again. "Remember what I said, sprout. I love you, and Dad loves you, and so do the rest of your brothers. We're working on it. Just remember that, and hang tough. Okay?"

He smiled at Alan with a reassurance he didn't feel, then turned to follow the woman out the door.

Scott thought later that the hardest thing he ever did was to walk out of that room, leaving his little brother behind.