Tin Tin's Big Day Out
Author's note: A big thanks as usual to Lynn and Quiller. Lynn helped out to the extent of not only editing but writing a couple of paragraphs. Quiller made lots of really good suggestions, most of which I took notice of and a couple I didn't so if you don't like it, you only have me to blame!
As the car came to a smooth halt in front of the facade, the back passenger door was opened. Tin Tin swung as delicately as she could out of the car and stood up, pulling her dress straight.
"Good morning, Miss Kyrano. This way, please."
Tin Tin was startled by the use of her name but then these guys knew everything. She glanced at the speaker. He was sober-faced, wearing an earpiece and was now muttering into what Tin Tin presumed to be a comms device in his collar. The Secret Service were certainly serious about their jobs. Tin Tin walked into the building and was given a brief but thorough security scan before she could continue along the corridor. The Secret Service man accompanied her, saying nothing, and Tin Tin felt the tension in her rise. You could disappear in this place and no one would ever find out. Her only consolation was knowing that John, in Thunderbird 5, was tracking her every move. She fidgeted with her wrist comm. Surely, John would have the co-ordinates to her position to within a few millimetres and would be following her progress?
A man was walking quickly down the corridor towards her, looking harassed and clutching a folder. An exchange of glances between him and her escort assured the man that she was the right person. As he took in her beauty, the harassed man's face melted into a smile. He held out his hand to her.
"Miss Kyrano, welcome to the White House."
"My name's Ray and I'm one of the president's communications staff," said the man who was no longer harassed but had moved into charm mode. "We're pleased that someone from your organisation could spare us some time. The White House and this administration fully support your initiatives and would like to provide assistance and/or collaboration where possible."
"I'm very pleased to be here," replied Tin Tin.
"Did you read the protocol sheet we sent you?"
"I did," Tin Tin said, remembering the 2 pages of closely typed A4 indicating how she should behave in the White House and address the president. She wondered briefly if International Rescue could do with one of those. Rule 1 – no pictures. Rule 2 – Don't approach a Thunderbird unless expressly authorised. Rule 3 – Do not attempt to speak to Virgil before his first cup of coffee of the day. Rule 4 – The more innocent Gordon looks, the more likely he is to be up to something. Her thoughts were interrupted by Ray.
"Good. If you'll come with me, please." As they moved along corridors and up and down stairs, Ray put his tour guide hat on and reeled off a list of facts about the White House.
"The White House was originally completed in the year 1800. It has undergone many changes over the years. You probably think that where we are walking looks very old-fashioned but a lot of our visitors like it like that. It provides an example of the length of time America has been a democracy. It gives those of us who work here everyday an appreciation of the fact that our work continues a proud history for America. Of course, we have a much more modern facility below ground where the majority of people work but I enjoy walking through these areas as well."
Tin Tin muttered her appreciation as Ray continued to talk while leading her through a maze of corridors. "In 1902 the West Wing was built to give President Theodore Roosevelt a bit more space and eventually the president's office was moved here, changed to an oval shape and there you go."
"Go where?" asked Tin Tin.
"Into the Oval Office," smiled Ray and gestured to a door in front of them which had a guard outside.
Tin Tin had arrived at the Oval Office, the place in the White House where the president met with dignitaries and other persons of note. Ray opened the door for Tin Tin, waving her through, followed her, and then closed the door behind them. President Anderson strode across the room, hand extended, to greet Tin Tin.
"What a pleasure it is to meet you, Miss Kyrano."
"Pleased to meet you, Madam President."
"Do sit down. Would you like some coffee or tea?"
"No thank you, M'am."
Tin Tin sat down on the sofa indicated. She had expected the seating to be like some of the antique furniture at Lady Penelope's mansion: hard and uncomfortable and not a place to linger. In fact, the sofa was so soft and squashy that Tin Tin doubted her future ability to get out of it.
"Well, Miss Kyrano, I must say that you are a bit of a surprise to us. When we invited a member of International Rescue to the White House we had rather expected to receive one of the men who turn up at rescues so often. Do you help with rescues?"
"Sometimes. I hope you're not too disappointed but I am sure we've explained to you that anonymity is the cornerstone of our organisation and it wasn't felt appropriate that a member of one of the rescue teams should come."
The truth of the matter was that the discussion of which of the 6 men should go had resulted in only one conclusion. Alan had been considered too famous outside of International Rescue, as had Gordon who had also ruled himself out by suggesting he told his "the Presidents of the US, UK and China walk into a bar together" joke. Virgil had no patience with protocol and fancied that the White House would have plenty of it. John had stated he would be searching for a new star that day, before he even knew on which day they had been invited. Scott had deferred to his father who had deferred to Scott. The only thing they had agreed on was that Tin Tin would be an excellent ambassador for International Rescue.
At Tin Tin's reply, President Anderson gave a fixed smile. "We are quite good at keeping secrets at the White House."
"Oh, I'm sure you are Madam President. However, as we never know when a team will be needed for a rescue it was felt best, not only for anonymity but for preparedness, that I represent International Rescue here today."
"Well, I imagine your organisation would know best about that. I'm pleased you could be spared for this visit," replied the president, somewhat icily. "So tell me about your training and educational background which is important to your participation in rescues."
Tin Tin was adept at this type of discussion and could talk as though she was revealing information while not actually giving specifics. She and the president chatted for a short time. Tin Tin was flattered by the attention she was being given. President Anderson was effusive in her praise for International Rescue although Tin Tin did feel that the White House were hoping to get some political gain out of her visit.
She was just beginning to relax into being a VIP when there came a particular sound. As she heard it, Tin Tin realised that it had been almost inevitable that she would hear it when she least wanted to. It was the emergency beep on her wrist comm.
"No way!" said Virgil to Brains. The two were having a conversation in Thunderbird 2's cockpit as they headed towards a rescue. Brains had been in the lab but decided to come up to speak to Virgil face to face to make his point.
"But the best…er...equipment for this…s .s..situation is still not fully automated. Tin Tin..er…helped me develop it and I need her assistance to get it…t..t…to work properly. John is…er…contacting…W… Washington about picking her up."
"Oh, go over my head, why don't you? Who's flying this cab?" replied Virgil, with an unusual amount of stress in his voice.
"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 5."
"Go ahead, John."
"Virgil, I've cleared a landing with the White House and Tin Tin is ready to go. I'm sending you the precise co-ordinates now."
"Okay, fine," replied Virgil, ungraciously accepting the situation. "Where exactly am I landing? One of the air bases outside of Washington?
"No time, Virg. You've permission to land on the White House lawn."
"What?!"
In the Oval Office, after a short conversation with Jeff, a mortified looking Tin Tin turned from her wrist comm back to the President.
"I'm so sorry about this."
"That's absolutely fine, Miss Kyrano, I quite understand that a rescue should interrupt our little chat." An aide came up and spoke quietly to the president for a moment. She then passed on the information to Tin Tin.
"We are getting a landing zone set up so we need to get you down to an appropriate waiting area. As we are running out of time but we would like to make a presentation quickly." The president held out her hand and Ray reached into his pocket, brought out a small, flat box and placed it in the perfectly manicured fingers. The president stood up and Tin Tin followed suit.
"We would like to make this small presentation to you to thank your organisation for your services to humankind." President Anderson flipped open the box to reveal a circular gold medal with an inscription on it. She and Tin Tin shook hands as Tin Tin took the box. The president held onto her hand and the box.
"Would you just turn and smile for the White House photographer, please?" It's for the official picture archives.
Tin Tin turned, confused, and the picture was taken. "No pictures!" said Tin Tin. "We agreed."
"Don't be concerned. It won't be released to the press," replied President Anderson. "It's just for our archives."
Tin Tin reflected that the archives were going to retain a picture of her looking fretful. The situation was rapidly getting out of her control and suddenly she looked forward to Virgil's arrival. She looked down at the medal and tried to make out the inscription, which looked like it said something along the lines of "…with grateful thanks from the American people…"
"Thank you Madam President."
"It's my pleasure. We'd better move on. Your colleagues will be here shortly." The two of them started to follow yet another member of staff.
"Madam President, you have a meeting with the Peruvian ambassador in thirty-five minutes," reminded Ray.
"He may have to wait," replied the President. "I'd like the opportunity to see an International Rescue craft up close."
"You're absolutely sure that no-one's going to shoot at me?" As Virgil flew Thunderbird 2 over Washington, D.C. the tension was clear in his voice."
In Thunderbird 5, John was calm and reassuring. "Surface-to-air missiles remain grounded, all systems are dormant."
"You're sure about that?"
"Virgil, do you want me to get you the Air Force Chief of Staff for you on the secure comms to confirm?"
There was a pause.
"Can you do that?" asked Virgil tentatively.
John rolled his eyes. "For Pete's sake, you have permission to land at the White House. Tin Tin has asked the president personally."
"It's fine saying that from space. You try sounding so confident in restricted air space. Jeez, I can see snipers on the roof of the West Wing."
"And you can take them out with one well aimed swing of Thunderbird 2's wing. They're like spiders, Virgil. They're more scared of you than you are of them. Now, can you see the landing zone?"
"Er…yep, I see it."
Virgil looked at the landing area that had been marked out for him with temporary lights. John had obviously been instructing someone on the ground, as the spot looked perfect. Too perfect. The lawn was a beautiful shade of well tended green and immaculately cut. Thunderbird 2's vertical jets were going to rip it to shreds and Virgil thought that would be a shame.
"Is Tin Tin on board Thunderbird 2, yet?" Scott's voice sounded impatient as it came through the comms link.
"I'm just about to land," replied Virgil.
"Well make it snappy, Virg, I need Brains and Tin Tin at the danger zone stat."
"FAB." As Virgil gently brought his 'bird onto the White House lawn he silently bemoaned his big brother's lack of aesthetic appreciation. To Virgil, the gardens looked like a painting that he was about to spoil. If Scott were there, he would just compliment the president on a mighty fine landing spot. Virgil hoped he didn't have cause to meet the White House head gardener in the next five years.
As soon as he had Thunderbird 2 on the ground, Virgil flicked a switch to open an access door and contacted Tin Tin on her wrist comm to tell her that she could board. He winced as saw he had taken out a rather large rose bush and decided to concentrate on the monitor that would show him when Tin Tin had arrived.
The group in the doorway watched Thunderbird 2 land.
"That's a fine looking craft," said one of the White House secret security men whose military experience had been in the US Air Force. "I'd sure like to get a look around it."
"Would that be possible?" the president asked Tin Tin.
Tin Tin's immediate thought was "In your dreams" but she decided to keep this to herself. Instead she replied courteously. "On another occasion, perhaps. We are in a bit of a hurry right now."
She saw Thunderbird 2's access door open and heard Virgil's confirmation that she could board from her wrist comm, although the watch face remained blank.
"It was lovely to meet you," said President Anderson, shaking Tin Tin's hand once more. "And good luck with the rescue."
"Thank you, Madam President. I'm sorry we've had to cut it short."
"That's fine. It's been fun to see one of your aircraft landing so close to the White House."
Tin Tin hurried towards Thunderbird 2 as fast as her dress and heels would allow. She boarded the big green machine and, after a brief exchange of words with Virgil, felt Thunderbird 2 lift gently skywards.
Tin Tin made her way to the cockpit where Virgil was now alone, Brains having returned to the lab.
"Hi Virgil!" she said cheerfully. Virgil did not look back as he was concentrating on his monitors as he manoeuvred Thunderbird 2 away from the White House.
"Tin Tin, great! How did it go?"
"It was…interesting. Hey, they gave us some kind of medal thing."
"Yes, Scott, we are on our way," replied Virgil to his comms unit, ignoring Tin Tin for a moment. Then he spoke to her. "Sorry to drag you away but Brains insisted you help with the RFACMR or whatever it is."
"That's okay, and it's the RFACPL for your information."
"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 5. You are clear of restricted air space. Let her rip, Virg."
"FAB, John" Virgil finally turned round to Tin Tin, a grin on his face. "RF whatever, I'm glad you're on board. You can translate between me and Brains. He is definitely having one of his jargon days." He took in her appearance: beautifully made up, designer dress and matching shoes and handbag. His grin faded. "What do you think you're wearing? This is a rescue site we're going to, not the opera. Grab an overall or something."
Virgil immediately lost interest in her, turning back to Thunderbird 2's controls. Tin Tin gave a small, resigned sigh. Men knew nothing. If she had been going to the opera she certainly wouldn't be wearing….oh, never mind. No-one could accuse Virgil of not being practical. She may have been feted at the White House but now she was back to being a scientist, part of International Rescue and an adored and protected little sister. International Rescue or the White House? She knew where she'd rather be. She glanced out of the cockpit window but Washington was just a distant dream. Reaching into the cupboard for her uniform, her thoughts turned to the rescue ahead.
THE END