IN THE ALLEY NEAR THE HOTEL – Bloody Bert kept a watch. President de Jersey had arrived on time, and neither leader had left the building before the two black cars – licenced as MIB and MIB2 – containing other agents arrived. Everything was going according to plan.

Bert felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. "Nosey Parker?"

"Bloody Bert!" Parker greeted. "Haven't seen you in years."

"No," Bert agreed. "We haven't."

"How about we have a good old catch-up?" Parker asked.

Bert looked behind him. Everything had gone to plan, and he had some time to kill. Why not?

"Sure," Bert agreed, walking back with Parker towards the limo.

"So," Parker asked, "what's been keeping you? Have you become a chauffer?"

"Oh, no," Bert replied. "I'm on a mission."

"Oh, I see," Parker said. "What are you up to now?"

"None of your business!" Bert snapped. He never had liked Nosey Parker.

But then, WHAM! Bert was sprawled on the hood of his car from a well-placed punch. Parker pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at his head. And it had a silencer. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Parker said. "What are you up to?"

Bert straightened himself up, although Bert kept the gun pointed at his head. "Why do you want to know?"

"Doesn't matter," Parker replied. "Speak up. I don't want to have to shoot you, for old times' sake."

"Well, you may have to," Bert replied with a smug smile on his face. "I ain't telling."

Parker had noticed a slight movement of Bert's hand behind his back. Bert quickly drew out a gun and aimed, but Parker shot first. Bert was dead before he hit the ground. "Sorry, mate," Parker whispered.

IN FRONT OF THE HOTEL – Parker returned to FAB1 and hopped inside. "Well," Penelope asked, "how did it go?"

"He wouldn't talk," Parker said with regret in his voice. "And he tried to shoot me. I had no choice but to kill him."

"I'm sorry," Penelope muttered.

Just then, two sets of men in dark suits emerged from the hotel. One escorted Mr ben Gurion, the other Mr de Jersey. Each group hopped into one of the cars, and then drove off.

"Well," said Lady Penelope, "I think it's time we give chase." As Parker began to drive after them – from a safe distance, of course – Penelope opened her hand mirror and called Tracy Island.

"Hello, Lady Penelope," Jeff greeted as the hologram of her projected from her portrait in the lounge. A similar but smaller hologram of Jeff projected from her handmirror. "What's happening?"

"Rather distressing new, I'm afraid," Penny reported calmly. "Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin ben Gurion and American President Donald de Jersey have been kidnapped in what appears to be a World Government operation."

"Oh, shit," Jeff muttered. "Where have they taken them?"

"We're following them right now," Lady P replied.

"Be careful," Jeff's son Gordon warned her.

"I'm always careful," she replied, then hung up.

The two MIB vehicles drove out of town onto a freeway, which thankfully didn't have much traffic. "It's high time, Parker," Penny said.

"Right away, m'lady," Parker said, lifting the cover of one of the switches near the steering wheel – courtesy of IR's Israeli engineer, Brains - and flipping it. Wings emerged from the chassis, the tyres rotated inward and began shooting flames, and the pink car became airborne. "FAB1 is off."

The driver of MIB2 looked in his rear view mirror. Good, he thought. Nobody's following us. Then he began to speed up, as did the driver of the other car.

At a highway rest stop, a man was having a beer. He had a second, unopened can on the table with him. He paused and stared. A sasquatch had just walked out of the bush. It walked up to the table he was sitting at. It sat down, picked up the unopened beer can, and sniffed it. Then it opened it and took a swig. It quickly spat it out, through the can away and walked off. Just then, FAB1 flew by. The man looked at his beer can, and threw it away.

"There's the turn off," the man in the passenger seat of MIB pointed out.

"I see it," the driver replied. He and the driver for MIB2 turned onto it.

IN THUNDERBIRD 5, John Tracy, Jeff's 23-year-old second son, was tracking everything. "They're heading into Windsor military base," he reported to Penny and Jeff. "It was founded two years ago and named after the Royal Family. It's very secretive, and almost nothing is known about it."

"Parker," Penny said, "I think it's time for hide and seek."

"Right away, m'lady," was the reply as Parker pressed a button – and FAB1 turned completely invisible – both to human eyes and to radar and even infrared. Another courtesy of Brains. The one-of-a-kind flying car secretly followed the two cars through the base, to a large warehouse. On the other side was what appeared to be a rocket. The cars stopped, the men in black got out, and escorted their cargo at gun point into the warehouse. FAB1 quietly landed on the top, and a robotic arm came out form underneath and silently attached a listening to device – also invisible – to the roof of the building.

Meanwhile, they failed to notice another car enter the base. It was the same limosine that had transported Donald de Jersey to the hotel. It parked in front of what appeared to be a small hospital building. The doors opened and a doctor in a white coat emerged as the driver and another man got out, opened the back passenger doors, and carried out a stretcher with a body on it – covered in a white sheet. Once it was inside, the chauffer and his companion left and drove off. The doctor, meanwhile, after shutting the doors, removed the white sheet from the body, grimacing at the bloody head wound. He scanned it.

"Good," he said, looking at the scans. He picked up his scalpel and got to work.