Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They are the intellectual and actual property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. Any original characters are a product of my imagination.
Last Requests
The last requests can be the hardest ones to honour
The Happening
From the low geostationary synchronised orbit Thunderbird Five was locked in, John Tracy relayed the latest rescue call to the team back on terra firma.
"A two cruise ship collision. Both are sinking rapidly, much faster than anyone had anticipated. While both vessels have enough lifeboats to cater for all the passengers on board, the crews of both ships are worried that they won't be able to get away far enough to avoid the suction when both ships sink."
"Alright, John," Jeff nodded grimly. "Let them know we're on our way and we'll be there soon."
"FAB."
Scott was the first one to respond to the emergency call that resounded around the building. "Where're we headed, what's the nature of the rescue call and what equipment do we need?"
"The details are being uploaded into the Thunderbirds so you can read them en route to the rescue site. Two cruise ships sinking after colliding with each other in Cape York, Greenland. I'm sending Virgil and Gordon with you, along with Thunderbird Four, some Platform People Movers and a few of our own life saving devices. Alan will sit this one out."
"No need for Mobile Control or Thunderbird One, then," Scott surmised, furrowing his eyebrows. There was nowhere to set his craft down, nor was there a suitable place for him to set up Mobile Control. "Guess I'm travelling in Two, then."
Gordon was deployed from within Thunderbird Four. The Pod was released into the water with a rather big splash and Gordon was free to run a body heat sensor scan to see if anyone had been stranded below the open decks.
Above in Four's sister ship, Scott waited, jittery, ready for action as Virgil continued to hover over the rescue site.
"What's taking him so long?" Scott snapped at Virgil, fingers drumming along one of the barriers on the Platform People Mover. It was a flat platform, attached to a harness system so it could be winched and released from Thunderbird Two as necessary, whilst being able to carry one hundred people to safety at a time.
"It takes time, Scott. Y'know, patience really isn't a virtue you were born with, is it?"
"It's not about virtue, Virg. It's human life down there and all the time we waste up here decreases their chance of survival."
A few more moments of silence, each stretching out into an eternity before the intercom crackled into life.
"I have a small gathering of heat signals. I've picked up about twelve of them that are strong readings." A moment of sombre silence. "There are quite a few blue spots as well."
On the heat sensors installed, the colour blue meant that the person wasn't emitting any heat. They were most likely dead.
"Get me down there, Virg. I can help the ones who are still alive."
More determined than ever to render assistance, the Platform People Mover emerged from the base of Thunderbird Two, descending into what would be the watery pits of hell.
The water was shit cold, even through all the protective layers of wetsuit Scott was wearing. It was so cold that none of the hotspots had lasted by the time he had half-swum, half waded to them. There was nothing Scott could do, except slide their eyelids shut and offer up an apology, the way he always did when he was too late before moving lower down the decks.
From behind him, he heard the echo of a door sliding shut, dead bolts slipping into place.
Panic rose up in his throat like bile.
Not good to hear dead bolts on a sinking ship. In deep shit now, Tracy.
A quick call to John – thank God the wrist watches were fireproof, waterproof and any other proof Brains could think of – since the blonde haired Tracy had the blueprints and schematics of the cruise ship Angeles.
"John? What did I just hear? Please tell me there's another way out of here!"
Teeth chattering involuntarily now. Other senses more wired to his surroundings. Adrenaline kicking in.
A keening sound in the background. A shrill shriek of "Daddy!"
Legs like lead churning him clumsily through the water, moving towards the sound, moving towards hope.
"Int-Internation-nal R-r-rescue," Scott stammered in a poor impression of Brains. "I'm com-coming! Just hang on!"
Water at the base of his ribcage now. Rising rapidly. He'd wager he'd have about half an hour before the water swamped over his head. Used a frozen stiff shoulder blade to ram open a cabin door. Two figures in the room; one most definitely alive, the other one just barely clinging to life.
Gasping breath from the one who was only just alive. "You. Please, get my son out. Keep Tobias safe."
Two ice-cold hands clasped together, an oath sealed before one hand slackened.
A solemn promise. "I will. You have my word."
A quick check of the five year old boy, who was in good shape, considering the circumstances. An open hand held out to the little tyke, a ticket to safety. The boy shied away from it.
"Daddy told me never to leave his sight. Daddy told me about stranger danger."
"Tobias," Scott said, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. A moment of trusting connection. Determination on Scott's part to reassure the boy, so he forced himself to stop his teeth from chattering against their will for the rest of the time he was with Tobias. "Your Daddy will understand why you had to leave him this time. Your Daddy will forgive you if it means you're safe."
And all at once, the little boy acquiesced, throwing his arms around Scott's neck and launching his body weight into the elder of the two. Scott caught Tobias just in time, hugging the child closer to him as a means of comfort and warming the boy up with his insufficient body heat.
"John, I really need that alternate pathway now!"
"I've found one! I'll guide you through it, but you'll have to move fast. I don't know when that waterproof compartment's going to close, and if it does, that's it."
Moving fast was a good suggestion. The water was now midway up his chest.
"Okay, Tobias, I need you to hold on tight. As tight as you possibly can."
Tobias just hugged him that much closer.
Legs slowing down, muscles seizing up as Scott struggled valiantly against the rising water, against the cold, against the fog that infiltrated his mind, against the dead weight of a boy in his arms, against all the factors that were conspiring against him. A turn at a t-junction of corridors.
"No, Scott!" John howled through the watch. Time was of the essence and stupid little errors could throw everything out of sync. "I said left, not right!"
"Okay," Scott replied, standing for a millisecond so he could let his brain catch up with his body.
"Move, Scott! Don't just stand there! Move, Goddammit, move!"
Water in line with the centre of his heart. Felt his pulse rate drop from the shock of it. Tobias' toes skimmed the water now. The boy shivered involuntarily against Scott's body. Scott forced himself to move, neurones firing through sluggish muscle tissue. Moving like the Wizard of Oz's Tin-Man after being left in a thunderstorm, joints all rusted together now.
So easy to slip into oblivion. So easy to close his eyes, lean back and relax. Not so cold now; the water was feeling quite tepid. Never a good sign. But he couldn't give in. Not now, not yet. So he pushed forward, fighting the current that threatened to drag him under.
"That's it, Scott, you're almost there," John encouraged, hoping this would keep Scott fighting.
Just five more steps for Scott to travel.
Four…
Three…
Tobias shifted slightly as Scott took another smaller step.
One wetsuit clad arm moved jerkily forward.
The sound of creaking.
Tobias nestled his wet hair against Scott's drenched locks, closed his eyes in realisation. Scott could feel light whiskers of eyelashes flutter across his cheek.
Time moved in slow motion, or time ran out.
Pressure building up from the outside in, or from the inside out. Brain processing information so slowly, so that Scott wasn't sure which one was correct.
Rivets popping, metal pinging acting as a warning, metal sheets breaking, splintering like it was as weak as rotted wood.
It was over.
He had failed.
Couldn't keep that damn last request.
"John." Scott's last words, and they both knew it. Despondent, resigned to his fate, but there were no tears on his part. The calm before the storm. "It's over. I'm sorry."
"You've nothing, absolutely nothing, to be sorry for, Scott. You did your damn best."
"Tell them…"
It didn't need to be said.
"I will, Scott. They know, but I'll tell them anyway."
Silence. Metal pinging drawing closer. The tidal wave of water rushing towards them.
There was nothing left for it.
"I hate goodbyes, so I'll catch ya later, John."
The rush of water overpowered whatever was said next. The storm before the calm.
And then there was stillness, and silence.
The calm after the storm.