Disclaimer: I have used the characters of Thunderbirds and related
companies in this story; I do not own them and I am making no money from
their use. I also do not own the most excellent computer game 'Arx
Fatalis' which was referred to in this story.
A/N: Hi, remember me, I took a holiday from writing to concentrate on my exams, and I am back! (Hopefully with a vengeance.) I want to thank Rain for beta-reading this, she has helped me improve my writing so much (I hope it shows) and she probably helped me get my B in English A Level. (Now if only she could get my Media Studies and Sports Studies grades up...) Rain - thanks again!
This is a complete story - I won't stop halfway through (mentioning no names, End Of The Rails) but so as I don't throw a huge chunk of writing at you I'll put one chapter up per day. I'm done now - enjoy!
Title: Circumstances
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: Mail Call
~~
'Mail!' Gordon called into the Tracy lounge. He stood leaning casually on the white rail of the balcony staring at the early morning sunrise as the wheels of the mailman's plane touched down lightly on the grey cement runway. The blond pilot, who had no idea of what extraordinary vehicle had landed and taken off many times on that runway, hopped out of the cockpit, lugging the large sack of mail over his broad shoulder.
'Dad, I think he's got something to be signed for,' Gordon said, eyeing the mailman's clipboard as he struggled up the steps to the luxurious villa with his well-used brown sack of mail bulging.
Jeff Tracy nodded, and calmly pressed the button at the side of his desk to signal 'Operation Cover-Up.' More casual paintings slid over those of his five sons in their uniforms, concealing their identities as members of International Rescue. The young postmaster was shown into the spacious living room some moments later by Kyrano, Jeff Tracy's gracious manservant and faithful friend, who bowed as he left.
'Is there a Mrs Tracy present?' The mailman said in a strong Australian accent, glancing momentarily at the name written on the clipboard.
'I'll get Grandma,' Gordon volunteered, walking towards the kitchen to tell her.
'What's to be signed for?' Jeff said as he was handed the other letters. Browsing through them, he saw a few letters regarding his business, a couple of bills, a postcard from Lady Penelope giving details of her weekend vacation in Nice, and one other letter for Gordon.
'A package,' the young man said, emptying the contents of the sack to reveal the slightly battered brown cardboard box with several stickers fixed onto it. 'Dunno what's in it,' he added, shrugging.
Grandma arrived in the room, drying her hands on the cotton apron she wore. 'Ma'am,' the mailman said, addressing her politely as he passed her the clipboard, 'could you please sign for this?' He began to dig in the pockets of his navy blue shorts for a writing implement, which he found and offered to her.
Grandma took the pen and signed her name quickly on the paper. The mailman then tipped his hat courteously, wished the household a good day, and was shown out to continue his rounds.
'Come on, Grandma,' said an eager Alan, who had followed her from the kitchen to see what the excitement was about, 'Open it!'
'I wonder what it could be,' Grandma said, cutting through the brown tape with a sharp, shiny knife. The metal of the blade glinted in the sunlight that now streamed through the sliding door, shining in Scott's eyes as he watched from the side of the room.
'Oh my goodness,' Grandma gasped as she rifled through the pieces of polystyrene to produce the object. Scott could not see it properly, though, for the glint of the shiny blade was still obscuring his vision. He squinted his eyes shut, trying to block the light from his eyes, but still it persisted.
~~
The sunlight shone through the crack in the curtains, filtering through Scott's eyelids and drawing him from his sleep. He groaned and grumbled before rolling over, twisting and turning in his sheets. It was no good, though, he was just about awake and sleep was no longer an option.
He cracked his eyes open and looked at the green glowing numbers against the black background of his digital clock. Eight already, he thought to himself. He finally summoned the energy to get out of his warm, comfortable bed and have a cool shower to kick-start his day.
Once fully awake and alert, he began to get dressed. As he put on his socks, he could have sworn he heard a plane fly close to or even directly over the island, but he thought nothing of it. It could have been Kyrano or Grandma going to the mainland to do some shopping, or something along those lines.
His suspicions were aroused when he found, on walking into the large kitchen, that not a soul was to be found. Usually, there would be one or more of his brothers fighting over the toast, but not even his father could be found enjoying his morning cup of coffee and newspaper, as was his daily ritual. Frowning, and grabbing a slice of toast as he left, he decided to search through the rest of the house.
He soon found everyone assembled in the living room, chatting away excitedly to one another. Standing in the doorway for a moment, chewing on his toast, he wondered what he had missed. Virgil noticed and came over to enlighten him of the goings-on.
'You missed out on all the excitement,' he said over the hubbub, grinning from ear to ear.
'What excitement?' Scott said, wiping a stray butter-covered crumb away from the side of his mouth as he glanced over the crowd in the room.
'A package in the mail for Grandma, that's what. It turns out she entered a competition in one of her magazines and won the newest model of sewing machine available in the world.'
Scott's eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor, revealing half- chewed toast. It couldn't be; there had to be some other explanation. He pinched himself, hoping that he was still asleep, but all he received was a sharp twinge of pain and a red mark on his arm. Even after this, he refused to believe that he had just dreamed something, and then found out that it had really happened.
Concluding that he needed an early night sometime soon, he walked over to the group and joined in congratulating his Grandmother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'I wonder why she never told anyone,' Alan said slowly, pressing his lips together as though in deep thought. It was not long after breakfast, and the two youngest Tracy brothers were sitting by the pool, soaking up the morning sun. 'I mean, I would have done. Told someone that is.'
'What are you talking about?' Gordon said with slight exasperation at disturbing his reading.
'I said, I wonder why she never told anyone,' Alan repeated.
'Why who never told anyone what?' Gordon said, his irritation and exasperation now very clear in his voice.
'Why Grandma never told anyone that she entered that competition,' Alan said, rolling his eyes at his older brother.
Gordon sighed, now fractious, and took a moment to look up from his book. 'Is that it? Is that all that's taking up your few and far-between brain cells at the moment?' Feeling that he should have got through to Alan by then, he returned to the paragraph that he had read three times since his brother began disturbing him.
Alan scowled, and then grinned wickedly. He got up from his garden chair, shed his sandals and performed a running cannonball into the nearby pool. A large wave of cool splash showered over Gordon and his book.
Angered at being drenched, Gordon watched for Alan to surface before throwing the sopping novel to the floor and jumping to his feet. 'Alan!' he exclaimed. 'What the hell did you do that for?'
The youngest Tracy attempted to smother a smile, and failed. 'I figured you needed cooling off,' he said innocently, half shrugging his shoulders.
Scott, having overheard the ruckus, walked down the steps to the poolside to investigate. 'What's going on?' he asked, glancing sideways at the livid Gordon.
The redhead abandoned his book and stormed past Scott towards the house, liable to blow up should anyone be unfortunate to run into him before he made it to his bedroom. Staring for a moment at the trail of water left by his dripping wet brother, Scott turned to the blond in the pool. 'What did you do to him?'
Alan held his hands up in defence whilst treading water, attempting his best look of pure innocence as he said, 'Nothing! He just blew up at me!'
Scott had worked out most of the details from the evidence presented to him. 'You got him wet, didn't you? Judging from that,' he gestured to the amount of water running over the paving slabs, 'you must have done a cannonball.'
'He needed to cool off,' Alan said lightly, thinking this was the best, and most truthful reason.
Scott grinned. 'Alan, when will you learn? Never soak someone, particularly someone who is not in a good mood to start off with, and then tell them that they needed to cool off.' He picked up Gordon's recently discarded book, set it in the sun to dry, and sat down in a different, dryer chair to absorb himself in a magazine.
Alan paddled to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the side. 'Do you know why Grandma never told anyone about entering the competition?'
Scott had been wondering the same thing. 'Maybe she didn't want to get our hopes up. I mean, with thousands of entries, the odds weren't exactly great. She mentioned that she had even forgot about entering, which was why she was so surprised this morning to receive a package in the mail.'
'You mean she never told anyone?' Alan said incredulously, knowing that he would have informed the entire island should he have entered a contest of any sort.
'No one,' Scott said, confirming it. As he finished speaking, the klaxon sounded around them, signalling an emergency call. 'Come on,' Scott said, throwing a towel to Alan as he hoisted himself out of the pool. 'Duty calls.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gordon sat alone in his room, re-reading the letter he had received in the mail that morning. He threw it down in anger as he got up off of his bed and rested his hands on the windowsill. He stared out at the ocean, its serenity calming him. Thoughts were running through his head so fast that everything blurred into nothingness, and emptiness.
'Hey, Gordon!' Virgil said in a chirpy voice as the door to his room began to slide open. Gordon instantly dived for the letter and shoved it hurriedly into his pocket as his brother walked in.
'Yeah?' Gordon said quickly, hoping that Virgil had not noticed anything suspicious.
'Didn't you hear? There's an emergency, and you're invited,' Virgil said, leaving the room so that he could begin the launch sequence for Thunderbird Two.
Gordon sighed as the door closed. 'Duty calls, I guess,' he thought, shrugging indifferently. He stuffed the letter back in the envelope, shut it in his desk drawer, and hurried to join the others.
~~
'What have we got?' Gordon said, joining Alan and Virgil in the cockpit of the huge green machine and taking a seat on the shiny red leather bench.
'An earthquake in Japan,' Virgil said, watching as the dot of Scott's Thunderbird became smaller and smaller in front of him. 'During the middle of their night, so its going to be dark there. There's a youth hostel with several kids trapped inside it that we have to help.'
'Any other rescues?'
'The emergency services have it all pretty under control at the moment, but we're on standby in case we're needed,' Alan said.
Gordon nodded, strapping on his seat belt. Knowing that there would probably be a gruelling task ahead of International Rescue, he decided that thirty minutes sleep would not hurt, so he leaned back and closed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hi, remember me, I took a holiday from writing to concentrate on my exams, and I am back! (Hopefully with a vengeance.) I want to thank Rain for beta-reading this, she has helped me improve my writing so much (I hope it shows) and she probably helped me get my B in English A Level. (Now if only she could get my Media Studies and Sports Studies grades up...) Rain - thanks again!
This is a complete story - I won't stop halfway through (mentioning no names, End Of The Rails) but so as I don't throw a huge chunk of writing at you I'll put one chapter up per day. I'm done now - enjoy!
Title: Circumstances
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: Mail Call
~~
'Mail!' Gordon called into the Tracy lounge. He stood leaning casually on the white rail of the balcony staring at the early morning sunrise as the wheels of the mailman's plane touched down lightly on the grey cement runway. The blond pilot, who had no idea of what extraordinary vehicle had landed and taken off many times on that runway, hopped out of the cockpit, lugging the large sack of mail over his broad shoulder.
'Dad, I think he's got something to be signed for,' Gordon said, eyeing the mailman's clipboard as he struggled up the steps to the luxurious villa with his well-used brown sack of mail bulging.
Jeff Tracy nodded, and calmly pressed the button at the side of his desk to signal 'Operation Cover-Up.' More casual paintings slid over those of his five sons in their uniforms, concealing their identities as members of International Rescue. The young postmaster was shown into the spacious living room some moments later by Kyrano, Jeff Tracy's gracious manservant and faithful friend, who bowed as he left.
'Is there a Mrs Tracy present?' The mailman said in a strong Australian accent, glancing momentarily at the name written on the clipboard.
'I'll get Grandma,' Gordon volunteered, walking towards the kitchen to tell her.
'What's to be signed for?' Jeff said as he was handed the other letters. Browsing through them, he saw a few letters regarding his business, a couple of bills, a postcard from Lady Penelope giving details of her weekend vacation in Nice, and one other letter for Gordon.
'A package,' the young man said, emptying the contents of the sack to reveal the slightly battered brown cardboard box with several stickers fixed onto it. 'Dunno what's in it,' he added, shrugging.
Grandma arrived in the room, drying her hands on the cotton apron she wore. 'Ma'am,' the mailman said, addressing her politely as he passed her the clipboard, 'could you please sign for this?' He began to dig in the pockets of his navy blue shorts for a writing implement, which he found and offered to her.
Grandma took the pen and signed her name quickly on the paper. The mailman then tipped his hat courteously, wished the household a good day, and was shown out to continue his rounds.
'Come on, Grandma,' said an eager Alan, who had followed her from the kitchen to see what the excitement was about, 'Open it!'
'I wonder what it could be,' Grandma said, cutting through the brown tape with a sharp, shiny knife. The metal of the blade glinted in the sunlight that now streamed through the sliding door, shining in Scott's eyes as he watched from the side of the room.
'Oh my goodness,' Grandma gasped as she rifled through the pieces of polystyrene to produce the object. Scott could not see it properly, though, for the glint of the shiny blade was still obscuring his vision. He squinted his eyes shut, trying to block the light from his eyes, but still it persisted.
~~
The sunlight shone through the crack in the curtains, filtering through Scott's eyelids and drawing him from his sleep. He groaned and grumbled before rolling over, twisting and turning in his sheets. It was no good, though, he was just about awake and sleep was no longer an option.
He cracked his eyes open and looked at the green glowing numbers against the black background of his digital clock. Eight already, he thought to himself. He finally summoned the energy to get out of his warm, comfortable bed and have a cool shower to kick-start his day.
Once fully awake and alert, he began to get dressed. As he put on his socks, he could have sworn he heard a plane fly close to or even directly over the island, but he thought nothing of it. It could have been Kyrano or Grandma going to the mainland to do some shopping, or something along those lines.
His suspicions were aroused when he found, on walking into the large kitchen, that not a soul was to be found. Usually, there would be one or more of his brothers fighting over the toast, but not even his father could be found enjoying his morning cup of coffee and newspaper, as was his daily ritual. Frowning, and grabbing a slice of toast as he left, he decided to search through the rest of the house.
He soon found everyone assembled in the living room, chatting away excitedly to one another. Standing in the doorway for a moment, chewing on his toast, he wondered what he had missed. Virgil noticed and came over to enlighten him of the goings-on.
'You missed out on all the excitement,' he said over the hubbub, grinning from ear to ear.
'What excitement?' Scott said, wiping a stray butter-covered crumb away from the side of his mouth as he glanced over the crowd in the room.
'A package in the mail for Grandma, that's what. It turns out she entered a competition in one of her magazines and won the newest model of sewing machine available in the world.'
Scott's eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor, revealing half- chewed toast. It couldn't be; there had to be some other explanation. He pinched himself, hoping that he was still asleep, but all he received was a sharp twinge of pain and a red mark on his arm. Even after this, he refused to believe that he had just dreamed something, and then found out that it had really happened.
Concluding that he needed an early night sometime soon, he walked over to the group and joined in congratulating his Grandmother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'I wonder why she never told anyone,' Alan said slowly, pressing his lips together as though in deep thought. It was not long after breakfast, and the two youngest Tracy brothers were sitting by the pool, soaking up the morning sun. 'I mean, I would have done. Told someone that is.'
'What are you talking about?' Gordon said with slight exasperation at disturbing his reading.
'I said, I wonder why she never told anyone,' Alan repeated.
'Why who never told anyone what?' Gordon said, his irritation and exasperation now very clear in his voice.
'Why Grandma never told anyone that she entered that competition,' Alan said, rolling his eyes at his older brother.
Gordon sighed, now fractious, and took a moment to look up from his book. 'Is that it? Is that all that's taking up your few and far-between brain cells at the moment?' Feeling that he should have got through to Alan by then, he returned to the paragraph that he had read three times since his brother began disturbing him.
Alan scowled, and then grinned wickedly. He got up from his garden chair, shed his sandals and performed a running cannonball into the nearby pool. A large wave of cool splash showered over Gordon and his book.
Angered at being drenched, Gordon watched for Alan to surface before throwing the sopping novel to the floor and jumping to his feet. 'Alan!' he exclaimed. 'What the hell did you do that for?'
The youngest Tracy attempted to smother a smile, and failed. 'I figured you needed cooling off,' he said innocently, half shrugging his shoulders.
Scott, having overheard the ruckus, walked down the steps to the poolside to investigate. 'What's going on?' he asked, glancing sideways at the livid Gordon.
The redhead abandoned his book and stormed past Scott towards the house, liable to blow up should anyone be unfortunate to run into him before he made it to his bedroom. Staring for a moment at the trail of water left by his dripping wet brother, Scott turned to the blond in the pool. 'What did you do to him?'
Alan held his hands up in defence whilst treading water, attempting his best look of pure innocence as he said, 'Nothing! He just blew up at me!'
Scott had worked out most of the details from the evidence presented to him. 'You got him wet, didn't you? Judging from that,' he gestured to the amount of water running over the paving slabs, 'you must have done a cannonball.'
'He needed to cool off,' Alan said lightly, thinking this was the best, and most truthful reason.
Scott grinned. 'Alan, when will you learn? Never soak someone, particularly someone who is not in a good mood to start off with, and then tell them that they needed to cool off.' He picked up Gordon's recently discarded book, set it in the sun to dry, and sat down in a different, dryer chair to absorb himself in a magazine.
Alan paddled to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the side. 'Do you know why Grandma never told anyone about entering the competition?'
Scott had been wondering the same thing. 'Maybe she didn't want to get our hopes up. I mean, with thousands of entries, the odds weren't exactly great. She mentioned that she had even forgot about entering, which was why she was so surprised this morning to receive a package in the mail.'
'You mean she never told anyone?' Alan said incredulously, knowing that he would have informed the entire island should he have entered a contest of any sort.
'No one,' Scott said, confirming it. As he finished speaking, the klaxon sounded around them, signalling an emergency call. 'Come on,' Scott said, throwing a towel to Alan as he hoisted himself out of the pool. 'Duty calls.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gordon sat alone in his room, re-reading the letter he had received in the mail that morning. He threw it down in anger as he got up off of his bed and rested his hands on the windowsill. He stared out at the ocean, its serenity calming him. Thoughts were running through his head so fast that everything blurred into nothingness, and emptiness.
'Hey, Gordon!' Virgil said in a chirpy voice as the door to his room began to slide open. Gordon instantly dived for the letter and shoved it hurriedly into his pocket as his brother walked in.
'Yeah?' Gordon said quickly, hoping that Virgil had not noticed anything suspicious.
'Didn't you hear? There's an emergency, and you're invited,' Virgil said, leaving the room so that he could begin the launch sequence for Thunderbird Two.
Gordon sighed as the door closed. 'Duty calls, I guess,' he thought, shrugging indifferently. He stuffed the letter back in the envelope, shut it in his desk drawer, and hurried to join the others.
~~
'What have we got?' Gordon said, joining Alan and Virgil in the cockpit of the huge green machine and taking a seat on the shiny red leather bench.
'An earthquake in Japan,' Virgil said, watching as the dot of Scott's Thunderbird became smaller and smaller in front of him. 'During the middle of their night, so its going to be dark there. There's a youth hostel with several kids trapped inside it that we have to help.'
'Any other rescues?'
'The emergency services have it all pretty under control at the moment, but we're on standby in case we're needed,' Alan said.
Gordon nodded, strapping on his seat belt. Knowing that there would probably be a gruelling task ahead of International Rescue, he decided that thirty minutes sleep would not hurt, so he leaned back and closed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~