Here's another random one-shot…I did a bit of research on this, but I'm about as far from being an expert in this area as possible; any errors on the technical information are entirely my fault.
I do not own the Thunderbirds, and I am making no profit from this story.
Scott and Virgil stood on the balcony outside the lounge, chatting idly as they enjoyed the balmy ocean breeze for a few minutes.
The wind carried voices up to them, and they glanced down to see Gordon and Alan standing by the pool. As they comprehended what their two youngest brothers were doing, though, Scott suddenly gripped Virgil's arm with fingers of steel.
"Virgil, are they – is he really – ?" Scott gasped.
"Yes!" Virgil snapped back, horror spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold below.
Alan, a pencil tucked behind his ear, had just set aside a clipboard and a stopwatch and knelt down to tie a rope around Gordon's ankles. When he finished, Gordon put his arms behind his back, and Alan started to work on tying his older brother's wrists together too.
Scott and Virgil didn't watch any more, instead concentrating on getting from the balcony to the poolside as fast as humanly possible.
Moments later, as they burst through the door that led to the pool, they saw Alan pick up the clipboard and stopwatch and nod to Gordon – who neatly hopped into the deep end and disappeared under the surface of the water.
"Alan!" Scott's voice was practically a screech as he and Virgil skidded to a halt next to their youngest brother and stared, aghast, at Gordon's sinking figure, distorted by the ripples in the water.
Alan looked up at them, startled, and leapt in front of Scott to keep him from diving into the pool. "Hey, stop that," he said. "Gordon's just working on his drownproofing. He's perfectly safe."
Gordon bobbed briefly to the surface before disappearing again.
Scott watched him nervously. "Drownproofing?" he repeated, wincing as his voice squeaked a little.
"Yeah, Navy SEAL style," Alan told them, rolling his eyes. "He wanted to see if he could do it the way the SEALs do." He was putting a tally mark on his paper every time Gordon surfaced.
Virgil was slowly starting to relax. "And what exactly does SEAL-style drownproofing entail?" he asked.
"He has to bob up and down twenty times, float for five minutes, swim to the shallow end without touching bottom, and then swim back to the deep end. Then he has to do a front somersault and a backwards somersault – and then retrieve his mask from the bottom of the pool." Alan kept his eyes on Gordon the entire time he talked, his fingers automatically adding tallies to the paper.
"All with his hands tied behind his back?" Virgil said, shaking his head. "That's intense!"
The next time Gordon's head broke the surface, Alan called out, "One more, and then you can float!"
Gordon nodded and sank out of sight again. When he surfaced the next time, he floated in the classic drownproofing pose that his brothers had heard him talking about before – he let his body relax, with just the top of his head showing. With a lungful of air, he had buoyancy and would float there with no effort; he just needed to raise his mouth above the surface a few times a minute to exhale and take in a fresh breath.
Alan kept an eagle eye on the stopwatch, and gave Gordon a countdown when his time was nearly up.
At the end of the floating time, Gordon dove down a bit to get some momentum, then began a dolphin kick toward the shallow end of the pool.
Gordon rounded the corner and headed back for the deep end. He made the undulating dolphin kick look easy, but his brothers all knew they would struggle to keep up the rhythm for the entire length of the pool.
All the way at the deep end, Gordon paused and took a deeper breath before diving down to perform his front and back somersaults, which he did with the natural grace that he always displayed in the water. Then he swam quickly toward the surface, bursting out and just as quickly diving back under, heading straight for the bottom of the deepest part of the pool, where they could just see the dark outline of the mask.
Scott held his breath as they watched Gordon's lithe figure ripple downward. There was a pause as Gordon tried to get a grip on the mask with his teeth before the buoyancy of the air in his lungs pulled him away. A moment later, he flipped around and kicked strongly off the bottom.
Gordon's head broke the surface right in front of them. Air whistled around the mask clenched in his teeth, and he looked worn out, but he had a triumphant gleam in his amber eyes.
Alan hit the stopwatch and dropped to his knees, grabbing the mask from Gordon's mouth and casting it aside. He reached down to pull Gordon over the edge.
Scott and Virgil were quick to help, and soon Gordon was sitting on the edge of the pool, Scott tugging at the knots in the rope around his wrists.
"How'd I do, Alan?" Gordon asked, his voice weary and a little raw.
"Best time yet," Alan told him cheerily, glancing at the stopwatch and making more notes on the clipboard.
Scott finally pulled the rope free. "Wait, you've done this before?"
"Yep. This was the third round for today," Gordon said. "I'm bushed!" He glanced down at his watch. "A little break, though, and I'll be ready for the next round."
Scott frowned. "That sounds like overtraining. If you're too tired, you'll make dangerous mistakes. I want you to wait until tomorrow before doing this any more."
"I didn't mean I'd do another round," Gordon laughed. "It's your turn next!"
Scott and Virgil groaned in unison.
"Really, Gordon?" Virgil whined.
"I'm sure our wise Field Commander would agree that it's a good training exercise," Gordon continued, eyes sparkling.
Scott grimaced. As much as he hated to admit it, Gordon was probably right.
"I'll go first," Alan volunteered. "After three times of watching Gordon, I think I've got the technique down pat."
"All right, fine," Scott finally agreed, letting out a long sigh. "Guys, let's go change and meet back here in ten minutes."
As the others disappeared into the house, Gordon addressed a nearby TV screen. "Hey, Johnny, you still there?"
John's face appeared on the screen. He was grinning. "Yeah, I saw the whole thing – and I plan to keep on watching. Thanks for letting me know about this. Scott and Virgil's faces were priceless."
"Did you record it?"
"Absolutely," John replied. The video was going to be prime blackmail material – particularly the recording of the pitch Scott's voice had hit when he'd first seen Gordon jumping into the pool, bound hand and foot.
The screen went blank again as Scott, Virgil and Alan returned, but John was still lurking in the background.
Only one pang of dismay marred John's enjoyment of the show: it occurred to him that the next time he was planet-side, Gordon would probably make him perform the same test. Hmm…maybe he'd offer to stay up on Five another month…