Mobile Maverick
Authors Notes: This was originally written for the 2010 TIWF Clue challenge. When I first looked at the rules I initially thought that the maximum amount of words we could have was 1000. Only after looking closer did I see "Minimum 1000 words - Maximum 10, 000. Once seeing this I set about taking apart the start (originally written for 1000 words) and throw in all sorts of new words and paragraphs. This is the first story where I actually taken time describing the scenes, rather than going straight into seeing the action. I hope you enjoy reading it.
The dry landscape was one that represented how uninhabitable it was for the ordinary joe to live in. However, due to desolate population of the Nevada Desert, it was a perfect place for secret weapon testing conducted by the U.S. Army.
In a small, concrete hut, Colonel Jalbert sat proudly stroking his beard while watching his co-partner, Professor Wachsman, fiddle around with the various instruments that surrounded him on the control desk.
"Are you nearly ready?" The Colonel's hand slowly became slightly impatient, and he was now fiddling around with his thumbs. The baking sun was gradually getting to him, until finally he thought his brain was going to explode.
"It's done" said Wachsman as he finished flicking the last of the switches. The consol lit up and they knew it was time to test it out. Outside their latest tank stood motionless waiting for it's commands. There was no crew aboard only computers, hardware and hundreds of wires that coiled around the interior of the hot metal tank. "Beginning test run, now!" With a quick flick of the on button, the tank boomed to life, and in a matter of seconds began speeding off to it's target, while clicking the rocks beneath it's feet.
"How's it doing Wachsman?" Probed Jalbert as he looked on in astonishment as his creation came to life.
"It's automatically heading for its target. Magnificent isn't it sir? A completely automatic tank. We just tell it what to do and it does it." The tank rolled up towards some disused trucks that stood still on the cracked surface. With a mighty bang and a puff of smoke, the tank fired, engulfing the trucks in a fireball.
"Success," Shouted Wachsman with pride in his voice. "The tank was dead on target. Colonel, this will be a moment to remember in history."
Suddenly a red light on the control panel flashed making a loud beeping noise. Wachsman's head turned sharply and a look of panic over whelmed his face. "The control system jammed!"
The tank made a sharp turn and aimed it's nozzle straight at the bunker that sat completely defenceless and weak. It fired again, and the concrete walls of the bunker collapsed right on top of the Colonel and the Professor. Dust and rock crumbled making a heavy thunderous noise. They only had enough time to shield their heads as the first of the rumble hit them. Once the dust had cleared, it had come apparent, that they were waist deep in debris and were unable to get out. Besides that, they were perfectly fine despite of a few bruises. The Professor's vision came back quickly, and with the ceiling and half the wall gone, he was able to watch helplessly as the tank turned and made it's own way out into the distance, until finally it became a dust cloud in the expanse.
"Colonel! Colonel! Are you ok?" questioned Wachsman. Jalbert still dazed and in shock by the explosion, replied with a slur in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm…I'm ok. Where's the tank going?"
"If I didn't know better, I'd think it's looking for a new target to destroy!"
"But they're nothing around here besides us and several geckos."
"The only thing nearest is a small populated village 500 miles away. Knowing how fast that tank can go, I'd estimate it would take three hours for it to get there." The Colonel's face had changed from being a tired look, to a very serious one. If any citizens were to get hurt or killed because of that tank, he would be in serious trouble.
"We've got to get out of this wreckage and turn off the tank," hasted the Colonel! He began to try to squeeze out of the slabs of concrete that surrounded him.
"That wouldn't do us any good" assured Wachsman, and very quickly the Colonel discovered that they were stuck, and it was pointless trying to squeeze out. "The control system malfunctioned, it would take weeks to fix it." They both fell silent for a moment and watched the remaining dust trickle down from the ceiling. "Of course!" shouted Wachmen. "Quick, pass me the radio". He point over to a box, which had a leather strap on it. After wiping the muck off it, Jalbert passed it to Wachmen. He pulled out a microphone and began speaking into it. "Calling International Rescue! Calling International Rescue!"
Soon enough, Wachmen's distress signal had reached through the cold outer reaches of space, where John Tracy sat reading a book in Thunderbird 5. The moment the familiar words of "calling International Rescue" where heard, John leaped to his feet and in a matter of seconds had reached his microphone.
"This is International Rescue responding to your signal. What seems to be the problem?"
The tranquil setting of Tracy Island was one of great pleasure to the inhabitants of the secluded location. Not to mention that it could only last for a few hours, or a few days. There was no telling when a call would come in. But since the Tracy island family had now got used to this side of life, they would spend every moment they had free wisely.
Jeff Tracy was sitting by his desk sipping his usual cup of hot coffee, which he had every morning to get his body to wake up. With the nearest mainland newspaper on his desk, he skimmed his eyes over the imprinted ink that lay inanimate on the newspaper. Before he had time to concentrate on any of the articles that he thought he might be interested in, he heard the footsteps of someone walking into the room.
Since Jeff was one of the very few early birds on the island, he immediately ruled out all of his sons. Before raising his head, he took a good guess at who it was. He raised it, and the satisfaction of guessing right, had filled his face with joy. There, standing near the entrance of the room, was Brains holding several large A3 papers rolled up under his arms.
"Why good morning Brains," Jeff gusted. ", What are you doing up?" Jeff knew Brains was an early bird on occasions, but today wasn't the day he had expected him to be awake.
"I…I could ask exactly the same to you, Mr Tracy". Brains walked over to the sofa, which was well know for leading down to Thunderbird Three's silo. He rested his rolled up plans beside him and sighed slightly. "I've been going over the plans of some of the pod vehicles that will be needing its usual check up. My…my main concern is the Monobrake. I think the…rubber caterpillar track on the left side is starting to decay. It's not a problem yet, but left for a few months and then it could easily snap if moving."
Jeff chuckled enthusiastically. He picked up his coffee and took a quick sip before putting it back down and looked at Brains straight in the eye. "You never miss a thing do you Brains?"
" Oh no sir! If I am in charge of the engineering of International Rescue machines, then they have to be pristine and well kept. We…don't want a disaster to happen during a rescue!" Jeff chuckled silently as he took Brains' statement in to consideration cheerily, and seriously. Even though Brains was kind of a workaholic, everything he did was for a valid reason. What would happen if a machine broke down on a rescue? It would be a very serious problem. As Jeff was about to reply he was interrupted by an oh so familiar sound that both he and Brains recognised instantly. After a quick glance over to John's portrait, he new the eye flashing meant something was wrong somewhere in the world. Jeff wasted no time by flicking a switch and with a gentle hum the ashtray on his desk rose up horizontally and clicked into position. The portrait suddenly flashed into a live video of John who had a serious face on.
"Hi Father, hi Brains" he addressed them. "It looks like we've a tough assignment to deal with father!" Before John could finish, Jeff put his hand out as a sign for John to stop talking. He then leaned to one side and pressed down hard on a button. "Scott, Virgil! Can you come into the lounge please? It looks like we've got a rescue on our hands, get down to the lounge as soon as possible." On the receiving end both Scott and Virgil replied back giving their father the notice that they we're coming. After releasing the button on his desk, he turned back to John, nodding at him to continue.
"Well father, a remote army testing ground out in the Nevada Desert was working on some remote control automatic tank. However due to a major malfunction, it went rogue and has buried the two guys in rubble!"
At the thought of another military mistake rescue, Jeff replied with a sigh. "And I suppose they want us to rescue them?"
"No. The worst part is the tank is now heading for the only village 500 miles in distance from the trapped men. The professor who contacted me believes that the tank is stuck on the instruction to find and destroy any target. He fears that the village is the next target, and the civilians living there are the in great risk of being killed."
"Why don't they just send in their army buddies to help?" Jeff didn't want to send his boys out on a military matter unless it was vitally necessary.
"It was only the two guys working on the testing ground father. There are no other military personnel for miles around!"
Jeff turned to Brains who had been listening to the entire conversation, and was now clicking in his mind the best course of action. "What do you think Brains?"
"Certainly if civilian lives are in danger then we must save them. However, the Thunderbird crafts were deigned only for the purpose of rescue, not to take on military vehicles!"
"We don't have to destroy it!" John said, "the professor said that it is possible to switch off the tank by sending a jamming signal." By this time both Scott and Virgil had now entered the room and had over heard the last bit of the conversation.
"If all we need to do is send a jamming signal, why don't we use the Neutralizer?" Virgil suggested. However Brains shook his head.
"That would be no good Virgil. The Neutralizer was only designed to block signals created by weaker devices, such as bombs. It would have no effect on a military tank. The best thing we could, is…is the Transmitter Truck, it's powerful capability surely could disable the tank. That is however, if we knew the instruction frequency that would immobilize it." Brains turn to the live video portrait, "John. Can you contact this Professor and ask him for the immobilizing frequency?"
John's expression changed to a slight disappointment. "Sorry Brains," he said. "The professor said that in order to conserve the energy of his communicator, he won't be able to reply to anymore unless they're in near the vicinity to pick it up. He says the long distant call to us has severely drained his power."
"Well I don't think stopping a rogue military tank is really our business," started Jeff. "But those villagers are in danger and we are the only ones who can save them! Scott. Get down to Thunderbird 1, get ready to take off immediately."
"Yes sir!" Scott gestured quickly over to the wall where two cone like objects hung from the wall. Putting his back against it and placing his hand on the cones, he began swerving around. Soon he had disappeared.
Jeff turned to his other son in the room. "Virgil! Start making you way down to Thunderbird 2 and take Pod 6." Virgil nodded at his father and made his way to the magnificent yellow painting of the rocket. He placed his back against it and was soon gone. "You better go too Brains. You're technical mind will be needed on this rescue, so start heading down to Thunderbird 2
"Yes sir, Mr Tracy."
"Thunderbirds Are Go!"
Within a flash both of the Thunderbird crafts had now blasted off and where heading toward the Nevada desert.
"This is Scott Tracy calling Thunderbird 5, can you give me the load down John?" The voice of his brother, sounded over the speaker.
"Besides what you already know, this tank was specially designed to out run and out wit any other military obstacle and over come most terrains."
"This could be quite a tricky assignment" said Scott as he rattled his fingers against the controls of Thunderbird 1. In Thunderbird 2, Virgil was soon becoming concerned about how they were going to defeat this unstoppable tank.
"Brains, if this tank his highly technologically advanced, then are you sure we can beat it?"
"I'm sure of it Virgil." Brains looked up from the diagrams that lay on his lap, "The tank may have armour we can't penetrate, but the technology inside it will still be very primitive compared to ours." Brains' statement was enough to reassure the Virgil's concern. "I just hope we can get there in time!"
Besides the aggravation of waiting for International Rescue to arrive, and with nothing to do, both Wachmen and Jalbert had to take the full brunt of the suns gaze, which hit them straight in their faces. Wachmen wasn't too bad off; he dizzily rolled his head to keep a varied amount sun light over his face. He felt the accumulation of sweat build on his forehead and some times they would drip off his face and dry up quickly on the yellow stone that had encased him.
Jalbert however did not fare well. Although he hadn't been great against the heat with a cool roof over his head, now he slowly drifted in and out of conscience as the Nevada heat and sun attacked him slavishly. He couldn't work out how much more he could take it any longer.
Over 200 miles away the mobile tanks travelled fast across the bleak Nevada desert floor, kicking up dust everywhere. It was clocking incredible speeds and as time went by it was getting closer and closer to the village
One Hour Later
Thunderbird 1 roared over the village, and Scott looked through his portside window to examine what the situation was.
"Well the village isn't destroyed guys, so the tank must still be on its way."
Over the radio, Brains replied. "It can't be to far away now Scott, can you see it in the distance?" Scott piloted Thunderbird 1 and swung it facing the out skirts of the village. He saw nothing, meaning they had more time to prepare.
"Brains there's no sign of it, I guess luck is on our side today. I'm going to contact Professor Wachmen. This is Thunderbird 1 to Professor Wachmen do you read me over?"
Back at the wrecked base, Wachmen slowly opened his eyes, as he heard the echoey voice of someone. "hELlO, PROfeSsor wachMen DO yoU rEaD mE oVeR". At first he had assumed that he was daydreaming, but slowly as his mind began to click into place, he realised that the voice he was hearing was one to listen to. "plEAsE cOME iN PROfeSsor". Slowly he picked up his transmitter and spoke into it. After been in the hot sun for over an hour and with no water, he voice was weak.
"This…This…is…Professor Wachmen responding."
"Are you ok Professor?"
"Just…about. However the Colonel…the Colonel isn't faring to well." Wachmen's eyes began to feel heavy and very quickly he wanted to go back to sleep. "I'm so tired."
"Don't do that Wachmen. Listen I'm going to put you onto our technical engineer, I want you to tell him the transmission frequency on how to stop the tank."
"Hello. This is…Brains to Professor Wachmen. Can you tell me the exact frequency? We'll need enough time to find a suitable place to put our Transmitter Truck in, so time is of the…essence!"
"Yes…the…frequency…is 2639.33176."
"Thank you Professor, we'll start setting up…" suddenly a panic interruption came from Wachmen.
"Wait!" Wachmen breathed heavily into his microphone creating a loud vibration against the speaker of Thunderbird 1 and 2. "The tank has a sensor that ranges up to 1000 Miles. That's how it detected the town. If you're Transmitter Truck is too big and too slow, it will become a target for the tank…". The radio of Wachmen's went dead and he collapsed onto the rubble.
On board both the Thunderbird crafts, they had all gone silent. This mission had become far more dangerous than first anticipated. Brains spoke softly, "despite how dangerous this mission has become, I think we should still go ahead with it."
"I agree with Brains, Scott." Virgil said positively.
"I'm game. But we better set up quickly, there a small dust cloud heading towards the village, and I'm pretty sure it's the tank!" Scott's heart had started pumping faster the moment he saw the tank out of his portside window.
"Right, I'm going to land Thunderbird two on the ledge two degree's from my current position." Thunderbird 2 manoeuvred down towards the cliff top and then soon came into position over the exact spot. With the humming of the mighty green craft being the only sound, Virgil knew it was time to take it down. With one click of a button the retros fired and huge gushes of smoke billowed out allowing Thunderbird 2 to gently land on the yellow surface. Just as Virgil was about to flick the switch to reveal Pod 6, he stopped cold realising a slight dilemma.
"Brains, if we leave Thunderbird 2 unmanned here, doesn't that mean it too could become a target for the tank!" The thought of this had shocked Brains. He sat thinking for a moment, until finally he was ready to reply.
"You're right Virgil If Thunderbird two was left stationary here, then it would definitely become a perfect target."
"Then there's only one option. We'd never be able to find a place to cover Thunderbird 2 without the Transmitter Truck having to travel a far enough distance. It looks like I'm going to have to circle the area whilst you take the Transmitter Truck out alone!"
Brains went cold with fear. He'd never actually done anything like this on a rescue before, being all-alone without any one beside him to help. However knowing the circumstances too well, he knew it was the only option. He licked his lips and spoke, "Ok Virgil, I'm ready. I'll head down to pod six!" Without hesitation Brains got up, and headed out of the cockpit and down the corridor with his feet clunking on the metal floor. To Virgil, he didn't like the idea of it at, and hearing the Brain's foot steps getting quieter was unbearable. After a few seconds of his foot steps becoming void of sound, Brains voice rang out over the radio. "Ok Virgil, I'm in the pod. You can lower it away now." Virgil reached out with one hand, and yanked back a leaver. With a few clicks and clonks from the middle of Thunderbird Two, it began to rise with the metal legs extending in height. The mighty painted six slowly was revealed and Thunderbird 2 clanged into place. With rooters turning the pod door thumped unhurriedly to the ground stirring up dust. A fierce roar echoed from the pod and with a slight amount of juddering the Transmitter Truck rolled out down the ramp and jumped out across the hot Nevada Desert. With Brains controlling it, drove the blue Truck down the ramp to the edge of the cliff. He punched a few codes in the control unit and with a slight hum the satellite dish point directly at the tank.
In a sudden change, the tank moved it's nozzle and pointed it at the Transmitter Truck, whilst it continued heading for the village.
"Scott, the tanks aimed for me! Can you distract it for me whilst I set the signal up here?" Brains was beginning to panic, and it was very clear in his voice.
"Ok, but are you sure the tank won't hit me?" Scott queried.
"Negative Scott. The tank should have tremendous difficulty trying to target Thunderbird 1." Scott put Thunderbird into a dive and the noise of the rushing air overpowered the caterpillar tracks of the tank. The nozzle of the tank suddenly swung into action and tried to follow Thunderbird 1 as it swooped above. It poorly managed to keep in time with it. Firing once, the tanks missed the tall craft by miles, before reeling it's nozzle back at the Transmitter Truck.
On board, Brains was now panicking, but had managed to aim and track the tank, plus had typed in the frequency to disarm it. "Transmitting Signal….now". He slammed down his hand on the button and instantly the mighty blue machine began to hum loudly while Brains felt the vibrations. Gradually down below, the tank rolled slowly to a stop with it's nozzle aim directly at the Transmitter Truck. Brains took a deep breath and lay back in his chair.
Scott's voice rang out over the radio, "Good job Brains. Right, let's dig the Professor and the Colonel out of that rubble."
Several minutes later, both Thunderbird 1 and 2 had landed beside the wrecked research base and both Scott and Virgil had heaved Wachmen and Jalbert out of their imprisonment. By now the U.S. Army had come with a Helijet to collect their injured men. Both in stretchers, Wachmen was the first to be lifted into the red and yellow hovering machine. The Colonel, barely awake apologised to his superiors who stood outside. "Sir, I'm sorry, it just…"
"Colonel Jalbert, no need to apologise, you just rest up." The superior nodded to the medic, who took Jalbert straight onto the craft.
"What do you want to do sir?" Asked the superiors deputy.
"Let's abandon the project." He began to step onto the Helijet before stopping with one foot on board and one foot on the ground. "Or sell it to another military force that can handle it".
Once they were both aboard, the door was slammed shut and the Helijet took off.
Now on their way home, the International Rescue boys we're on the line to their father back at base.
"How bad were the two Scott?"
"Not too bad father, " Scott replied. "They were both severely dehydrated though, and have received second degree burns."
"I guess they'll be in good hands now, if they're with the military."
"I guess so, but the real hero of the day was Brains. He single handedly stopped the tank in the Transmitter Truck."
"Indeed. Well done Brains, well done."