International Rescue, the top secret organisation dedicated to saving lives wherever they may be in distress, was set up by multimillionaire and ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy and his five sons. Based on a small island in the South Pacific, the courageous Tracy family are always ready to swing into action at a moment’s notice, launching the fabulous Thunderbird rescue craft on …

September 30th, a day that would go down as one of the most challenging International Rescue ever faced. It was almost midday when John Tracy received the first emergency call. A diver had been exploring a deep reef network and had become trapped in an air-pocket with a damaged scuba tank. John was in the midst of relaying the information …

Thunderbird Four broke the surface a little way from the floating green Pod and was quickly winched back into position inside. Gordon, still in his scuba gear, made his way to the edge of the river and climbed out onto the jetty. Scott, Orchard and McGill raced across the rickety wooden boards towards him as he showed them the precious …

High above the Earth, Thunderbird Five hung like a silver spinning top in geosynchronous orbit thousands of kilometres above Tracy Island’s highest peak. Inside the control room, Jeff Tracy’s youngest son Alan raced to the receiver array as the distress call indicator pulsated with a reddish glow. The speakers crackled into life and a tense voice spoke, “Calling International Rescue! …

Preparations to ring in the new year were well on the way on Tracy Island. Alan, Gordon and Tin-Tin had just returned from helping Grandma and Kyrano in the kitchen when there came the familiar bleeping of an emergency call. Jeff Tracy pressed the concealed button on his desk and spoke into the hidden microphone, “Go ahead, John.” The large …

Continued from Previous Report As the Great Abyss began to roll sideways in front of him, Gordon gritted his teeth and slammed the throttle control forward. With a whoosh of bubbles, Thunderbird Four surged towards the stricken submarine with its magnetic rams deployed. There was a terrific clang as the powerful magnets connected with the side of the vessel and …

The large translucent hemisphere on the main control bank flashed red and the auto-recorder began to spool as the distress signal played over the speakers in Thunderbird Five’s control room. John Tracy, the young fair-haired International Rescue space monitor, strolled across the anti-gravity floor plating and listened to the transmission attentively. His brow furrowed in dismay at what he heard. …

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS REPORT The hideous creature was climbing nearer. Every second brought it closer to the thin branch John was crouched on. If he hesitated a moment longer, he’d be in range of those viscous claws. He took a deep breath, wrapped a couple of thick vines around his forearm, and jumped. For a moment he was falling through …

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS REPORT John remained perfectly still. What was it that had made his senses react so violently? He strained his ears, listening. There was the buzz and hum of small insects and the distant lap of the waves on the beach, muted by the almost impenetrable trees surrounding him. Not a sound then. But what? Some scent or …

In less than forty minutes from the moment the fire alarm first blared aboard the Arcadia, International Rescue were on the scene. Operating from the air in Thunderbird 1, Scott Tracy directed the rescue operation. Below and to starboard he saw the mighty hull of the ultraliner floating on the waves below, its propulsion system inoperative. Huge plumes of thick black …