AN: Getting inside someone's head is a fanfic writer's bread and butter, and this was a moment from the 2004 movie that made me want to know what was running through the mind of our resident engineer…
Probabilities
Brains runs the odds...and they're not good.
It was safe to say, thought Dr. Hiram Hackenbacker, as he stood watching the chaos reigning all around him, that his life thus far had been governed by some fairly impressive odds. He'd have to use a computer to calculate some of the greater ones, but he could make an educated guess at most of them.
For example: The chances of a poor kid from a tiny, dying town in middle America winning a scholarship to Cal Tech were slim, but he'd done it. Sort of like Jeff Tracy himself, the engineer mused; the Tracys hailed from a Kansas town not far from where he'd grown up. Both of them had worked long hours and expended much sweat, blood, and tears to get where they were. Both had refused to settle into the norm and had become the outliers. Despite the current situation, a small smile dawned on Hiram's face; he'd never thought about it like that before.
And what had been the chances of a young programmer from a no-name company and an up-and-coming industrialist crossing paths, resulting in said industrialist giving said programmer a position in his newly minted company? The odds were astronomical, but here he was, in his tenth year serving the Tracy family.
What were, he wondered, the odds of that programmer-turned-engineer falling in love with one of the smartest astrophysicists in the world-and, moreover, what had been the odds of her falling in love right back? The doctors hadn't given Moffie good odds at getting pregnant, but the moment Hiram held Fermat in his arms, all he could think was how wonderful that it was to prove them wrong.
His heart squeezed as it always did when he thought of his late wife. Moffie had been his anchor, the calm eye of his storm. Perhaps because he himself had lost his soulmate, Jeff had been sympathetic when the diagnosis came, making no complaint about giving up his engineer for weeks at a time while Moffie was undergoing chemo and surgery. That time, the odds had beaten them soundly, and Moffie had slipped away on a tide of morphine with Hiram and Fermat by her side.
When Hiram came back to the island, Jeff had drawn him out time and again, talking even when he knew Hiram wouldn't answer, having Onaha set meals before him that she knew would go largely untasted, dragging him from the lab and involving him in family activities when the engineer would have pulled his work over his head and never surfaced again. Jeff had made a place for Fermat alongside his own sons, and though Fermat wasn't cast from the Tracy mold of rugged good looks and athleticism, they had embraced him as a brother, never making him feel out of place.
Even precious Tin Tin had made Fermat feel welcome, fussing over him and making sure that the boys included him in their rowdy games. Maybe that was because she, too, was a product of winning odds, sired by a man who survived long enough for Jeff Tracy to pull him from the collapsed mine that so easily could have been his tomb.
Today though-today was a day when all the odds were stacked against everyone. It was like something out of a nightmare, something that even he, with his tendency towards fail-safeing the fail-safes, had never dreamed up in any scenario. With Jeff and the boys trapped on a crippled Thunderbird Five, slowly dying from suffocation, and Alan, Tin Tin and Fermat playing a deadly game of cat-and-mouse with the Hood's thugs in the hangar, the odds were looming like an evil shadow that laughed in Hiram's face. You're going to lose, they shrilled. Everyone you love! Everything you care about! It's all going to hell and you can't stop it!
There was a sudden burst of noise and activity on the screen before him, and with a surge of pride, he realized that the kids had found their way to the hangar. Even though he knew the cavernous space was as familiar to them as a playground, he still found himself pacing toward the view as if he could step through it and help them. As the woman-Transom, the Hood had called her-frantically tried to fumble her way around the control board, Tin Tin and Fermat cranked the Firefly into action and caught the thugs in a slippery deluge of fire retardant. A high-pitched hum signaled Alan's work at the controls of the Thunderizer, and Hiram felt a yell of triumph wanting to burst from his throat as the laser, designed to cut away walls of collapsed buildings, roared into life and bit a neat rectangle out of Thunderbird One's silo doors.
One by one, the children scurried through the hole, and Hiram clenched his fists in the folds of his lab coat. He dared not call out to his son, knowing that he'd either be trussed and gagged-or shot through the head-in seconds flat, and he'd officially be of no use to anyone. He stayed where he was, silently pushing his thoughts toward Fermat with all his might, willing the boy to run! Run!
The Hood turned toward him, and Hiram backed away, making sure to keep his eyes averted as the man advanced. "Jeff and his boys...they're going to die, you know," the man said softly. "Every...single...one of them." He turned to survey the portraits on the wall, his gaze lingering on each one in turn. "Such a shame to lose four perfect examples of bravery and manhood. The young one, though-I think I'll take him with me, as my heir." The Hood laughed deep in his chest, warming to his topic. "Yes, that's what I'll do. A little judicious application of my powers, a little brainwashing and propaganda, and he'll do anything I ask."
Hiram felt his heart drop to his knees. "No! Y-you c-can't!"
"Oh, but I can, Doctor," purred the mastermind. "So that just leaves my niece...and your son." He pursed his lips in thought. "They might be of some use to me. Besides, I think young Master Alan has taken a shine to our fair tropical flower. If he-or your son, for that matter-won't listen to reason, I can always threaten her if I need to bring them to heel."
Behind them, Transom snorted and giggled.
Ignoring her, the Hood stepped up close enough to breathe in Hiram's ear. "Tanusha's got the gift," he murmured. "Did you know that? I'll train her to use those powers to their full potential. With Alan's skill, Fermat's intelligence, and the Thunderbirds-well, I'll have my own little family empire."
The thought of the kids being twisted to the Hood's purposes made Hiram feel queasy. With some detached part of his mind, he wondered if he could incite himself to vomit on the Hood's shoes, just for spite.
"Oh well," said the Hood, turning to move toward Scott's load chute. "Dead or brainwashed: I'll decide on the way." He stood against the portrait and gave Hiram a chipper smile. "Cheerio, Doctor." The portrait turned, depositing the Hood into the tunnel that led to Thunderbird One, and Hiram could only stand and watch him go.
For five agonizing minutes, there was no sound except that coming from the monitor, where the cameras in the hangar showed the thugs finally swimming clear of the fire retardant and rising to scrape off the worst of the sludge. The instant they could gain purchase on the floor, the thugs pounded toward the silo, and then the rough voice of Mullion burst over the comm.
"Transom!" he shouted. "Fire up the engines of Thunderbird One-and set to broil!"
With his heart in his throat, Hiram watched the woman slam her hands on the remote firing controls, and the entire house rumbled as 'One poured the full force of her engines into the concrete fire bucket.
It could only mean that the children had contrived a way to escape down the exhaust chute, which ended in four massive ports cut into the cliffs on the west side of the island. Numb, Hiram traced the underground map in his mind's eye, trying to grasp for something, anything he could do. Pounds of thrust versus time and distance, the drag caused by skin and fabric against concrete, the slope of the chute versus the mass of three teenagers...It was no use; the calculations wouldn't come fast enough. Think! he screamed at his uncooperative mind. Why was it failing him now, when he needed it the most?
The 'Birds were part of the Tracy family, he thought; surely they wouldn't hurt one of their own? Many was the time that Jeff and the boys had sworn that their miraculous machines behaved like they had souls hidden in their metal bodies. As a man of science, Hiram knew that was impossible-but as a father, he hoped with all of his heart that 'One knew her own, and was keeping her flames from reaching greedily for the children.
After what seemed like an eternity, the engines quieted. As the rumble died away, the Hood strolled back into the control room, smiling like a cat who had just feasted on three particularly delicious canaries. He glanced at Transom, who, to Hiram's amazement, actually looked shaken at the thought of having the blood of children on her hands.
"No sign of them," she informed her boss in a hollow voice. She shot a look over at Hiram, but then quickly turned away.
"Yeah!" Mullion was almost prancing with glee. "That's because the little brats went up like firecrackers-pop, pop, pop!"
The odds, which had been teetering on the brink of collapse, crashed over Hiram in an agonizing wave and swept him into darkness.
