Disclaimer: Any and all mistakes are mine. The ownership of the Thunderbirds though? See full Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
Refresher: Gordon and Scott have switched bodies. Only Kyrano knows, as he was the one who did the 'swapping' under Jeff's orders, although no one else knows, including Jeff. Gordon and Scott don't know why they woke up in each other's bodies, or how it happened, but they are currently hiding it from their family members. Previously: They had just finished breakfast when the rescue alarm had gone off, calling them all to the Control Room.
Remember: When single 'apostrophes' are used around Gordon and Scott's names it is to remind you that other characters are actually talking to who they believe is occupying the body (to try and help avoid confusion).
The Treatment – Chapter 3
"Scott, it's a collapsed mine in Australia," Jeff said as the two men entered. "I want you to start off now in Thunderbird One. We'll give you more details on the way."
"FAB," Scott said as he automatically turned towards the door. He did a double-take as he suddenly realised that his father had not been talking to him, but to Scott's body, which was looking rather taken aback right now, Gordon having just realised what he was going to have to do, as 'Scott'.
But being the military man he was, Gordon turned towards Scott's picture on the wall.
"Wait!" Scott grabbed Gordon by the arm. He looked at his father as he shoved 'Scott' out the door.
Alan walked in and saw them. "Scott? Where are you guys going, Gordon? We need to help Virgil with finishing the prep work he was doing to Pod 5 for Thunderbird 2 before he takes off."
"We'll just be a minute," 'Gordon' said as he led 'Scott' away, leaving Alan to watch their retreat suspiciously.
Scott quickly shoved Gordon into the next room to avoid anyone hearing them.
"What do you think you are doing, Gor-don?" Gordon hissed angrily at his brother, trying to shake himself loose. "Are you trying to blow our cover? You're supposed to be me right now, yet I have never man-handled you around like that before! You still think you can push me around, even now?"
Scott gripped Gordon's arms even tighter. "What do you think you're doing? You can't do this – I fly Thunderbird One!"
"Get off my back Scott; I know how to do this. As you well know, we've all had to learn how to fly each other's Thunderbird, in case the need arises. And this time it does. And even while it's true I haven't done Mobile Control before, I've seen how you handle it – it'll be a piece of cake. I know what to do."
"It's a lot trickier than it looks, Gords – you don't hear everything that happens over the 'waves.'"
Gordon looked at Scott beseechingly. "Seriously? You're gonna stand there and tell me that your 'area of expertise' sees action? All you do is stand around and give orders!"
"Scott! Where are you?" Jeff called out sharply from the control room.
Ignoring the voices, 'Gordon' continued speaking in hushed tones. "It's not just that, bro. I have to keep the local governments and emergency services happy. I have to keep the family of the victims under control, as well as any locals with a hero complex; I have to watch out for all of my brothers; I have to keep an eye on any dangers that may arise… there's a lot I have to consider."
Gordon shook himself free. "So you're saying that I can't do it?"
"No, but you're a man of action who can't stand back and watch; you're not used to doing that."
"And yet you are?" Gordon scoffed. "Man, if anything, I am the one who's used to doing that. Do you not remember that I was stuck in a bed for 8 months? How do you think that felt, being forced to lay back and watch all of you go about your lives… so if anything, Scott, I'll be able to do this job better than you."
With that, Gordon stepped back into the control room, stalked over past the others and grabbed the wall's lampshades, opening Scott's chute that led to Thunderbird One. He turned to see 'Gordon' watching him with an odd look of despair on his face.
"FAB," 'Scott' spoke abruptly to everyone as he left.
Scott looked sadly at the now empty chute with quiet regret.
"FAB, bro," he muttered softly.
Scott stood by the door, thinking silently while he watched Alan and Jeff, awaiting further instructions. Scott hoped that Gordon would be okay; he really hoped that Gordon could pass off as Scott while his emotions would inevitably be running high during the rescue. But also, what Scott really hoped for, was that Gordon wouldn't scratch his bird beyond recognition.
Alan and his father were at Jeff's desk, discussing what was to happen. "Virgil's already down in the hangar, Alan; after you boys have finished re-stocking with him, I want you to go with Virgil."
Alan sparked up at the realisation that he was going. Nevertheless, he couldn't help glancing at Gordon to see what his reaction would be to Jeff's decision. Surprisingly though, his brother seemed to hold no interest at all in heading out on the rescue. Instead he stood over by the exit, glancing impatiently at the clock on the wall, obviously thinking of other things.
"What about Gordy?" Alan asked.
"It's nothing, Alan," Jeff spoke sincerely, and looked over towards his redheaded son. "Considering what happened yesterday, I just want to be certain that your brother's back is properly checked over before he goes out again."
Coming out of his reverie, 'Gordon' nodded. "I'm okay, sprout. Just follow orders and you'll be fine."
Alan's brow crinkled just the slightest at his words, but was quickly wiped clear at his father's next order.
"Thunderbirds are go, boys!"
"FAB," they replied.
"Gordon, get in here!" Alan called Scott over loudly. "Come on, we have to go! Virgil's already down there waiting for us."
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Scott said begrudgingly.
On the way down to the hangar, Alan kept up steady stream of questions. "So what did you have to speak to Scott about before that was so urgent? Is everything okay? You've been acting kinda weird today…"
"It's nothing, Al. I guess I'm just having an off day," Scott said.
"If you say so," Alan replied as they reached T2's hanger. "Where do you want us?" he called to Virgil.
"I want you to grab the grappling hooks and stick them into the Mole; then check that all of our safety equipment is there. Gordon, even though they should have emergency services on-site, I need you to go in and check that the infirmary is fully stocked. Father said there are twelve people trapped, so we can't take any chances on what injuries they may have."
"FAB" both men said as they went about their jobs.
Five minutes later, Alan and Virgil were in the air, having left Gordon behind back at base. Virgil was keeping his eyes on the clear skies whilst awaiting the mission details from Scott and his father.
"This is Scott, changing to horizontal flight now, Father. Where am I headed?" Gordon said, trying to remember the protocol of flying T1 while attempting to think like Scott. It wasn't as easy as he'd originally thought, though he wasn't going to admit it.
"There are twelve men trapped in a mine in New South Wales. Nine of them are fine for the local authorities to reach, as they managed to reach the lift; so they are able to be pulled up and out of the chute manually. However, there are three who didn't manage to make it to the lift shaft; John reports they are trapped next to a tram about 50 feet from the lift. According to John, officials were attempting to drill into the cave wall in order to complete a feasibility analysis, to evaluate the viability of the minerals and the financial risks in extending the mine. Unfortunately, they did not think it applicable to empty the mine of workers first as they did not expect a collapse. So the plan is to ensure the miners in the lift are out and assess whether it is possible to use the mole to dig a tunnel to reach the three missing miners. If it's not feasible, we'll have to think of something else, depending upon the stability of the mine."
"How do we know that the mine debris didn't just collapse the tram?" 'Scott' asked.
"Apparently one wall is one big solid rock, spanning about 100 feet, which, according to the local authorities, is next to impossible to collapse. The miners even had to dig alongside it when they first built the shaft. The theory is that the loose rock and beams above will be resting against that rock and the tram, ensuring that the men have a chance of being in some version of a 'triangle of life'. If you talk to John he can tell you more; I'll update Virgil on what I know so far and then you can discuss it further with him."
"Sure thing, Father. How's S-Gordon doing?" Gordon asked. He feared that Scott would currently be in a full state of rage which would be directed at Gordon, or at least him as 'Scott', at that present moment in time.
"Never mind about Gordon, he's down assisting Virgil and Alan. Focus on the task at hand, Scott."
"FAB Dad. Calling John now."
Ten minutes later after speaking with John, Gordon radioed Virgil.
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two, can you hear me Virg?" Gordon spoke in Scott's dulcet tones.
"Thunderbird Two receiving; what is your ETA, Scott?" Virgil enquired.
Gordon looked at the instruments in front of him and tried to decipher their readings quickly.
"Ah, I am bearing on route… 156, travelling at a speed of… 10 thousand miles an hour," 'Scott' spoke falteringly over the radio.
"That's slower than your usual speed, Scott, are you having problems with the flight?" Virgil asked.
"No, Virgil, I'm just… feeling a bit queasy, is all. I might've eaten something bad at breakfast." Truth was Gordon was unused to the huge gravitational forces that were applicable when flying Thunderbird One, and was quite afraid of losing his breakfast. Nevertheless, he now attempted to bump the speed up another 2000 miles per hour.
"Increasing speed to 12 thousand miles per hour, Virg. You're right; my stomach is much less important than those miners' lives," Gordon amended.
There was a slight pause before Virgil asked again. "So what is your estimated arrival time, Scott?"
"Oh right… sorry. ETA should be in about another… ten minutes? Fifteen?" Gordon was unsure, as he was unused to travelling at these high speeds. However, Vigil was waiting for a sure answer. "12 minutes."
"FAB Scott. We're 32 minutes out, so you'll have 20 minutes to determine the most appropriate way to proceed and advise us on the situation."
"FAB Virgil."
Back on the island, Scott was pacing the control room, appearing almost manic in his purpose, while Jeff sat at his desk.
"Why don't you go do your exercises in the pool, Gordon? Relieve some of that tension that you seem to be having," Jeff smiled at his red-headed son.
"No, I'm fine, Dad," 'Gordon' grumbled impatiently. "How's Thunderbird One doing?" He sincerely wished that it were any other brother who was flying his 'bird right now... did it have to be the never-take-anything-serious Gordon? He dreaded what might happen soon.
"Scott's fine, he'll be arriving at the scene in a few minutes. What are you and he so riled up about, Gordon? I've never seen you so worried about Scott on a rescue before. Actually, you've both been acting rather peculiar today – has something happened?" Jeff clasped his hands together in front of him.
Scott froze, and turned to face his father. He lost the tension in his body and sat down heavily, slumped over on the couch; wincing at his back pain as he did, as he'd forgotten to be careful. He didn't want to lie to his father, but now was not the time to be getting into any deep conversations. Gordon would receive payback for leaving him behind like this.
"No, we'll be fine, Dad," he said aloud. I hope… he added silently.
Gordon arrived on site in just under nine minutes. So much for his mathematical skills.
Please mom, whatever happens; don't let me stuff this one up, Gordon prayed.
It was still before dawn in Australia, and doing an overpass to assess the scene first from the air, Gordon could see lots of lights lighting the area and people running around like ants everywhere he looked, while machinery stood by idly, unused; and there was a large area of land where the mine clearly was. From the air though, there seemed to be no clear organisational attempt going on. It looked like chaos.
Managing to land with only a rough jolt, Gordon was glad to be back on solid ground and felt his? body's muscles lose its tension slightly. His stomach was still really queasy however, so he took a deep breath to ease his nerves before standing… and promptly lost his breakfast on the floor of Thunderbird One, near the door's entrance.
Bugger, the flight must've been more rough than I thought, Gordon thought. However, he had no time to clean up the mess now. He opened up the door and clambered out, wondering what in the hell he was doing.
Grabbing the attention of the closest person, who advised Gordon that local rescue personnel were 500m off in a nearby shelter, Gordon took off in that direction, remembering at the last moment to grab the setup gear for mobile control.
Upon entering, word had already gotten around that International Rescue had arrived. The person in charge, Anna Temple, walked straight up to Gordon and introduced herself to him, shaking his hand firmly and asking what needed to be done.
"Hi, I'm Gor-Scott," Gordon stammered, before gradually finding his confidence. The number of people watching him, awaiting and relying on his professional judgement was slightly overwhelming. Gordon shrugged off the attention as best he could, which wasn't very difficult as he'd once managed to handle all the attention at the Olympics once before. "What's been done about the nine men in the lift?"
"Hi Scott; Anna Temple. We've so far managed to extract seven men from the tunnel. We're currently lifting the eighth one out now; he's maybe 100 metres from the surface." Anna was assertive and spoke briskly but clearly of the details. "We should have them all out within the next half hour. What else do you need to know?"
Gordon walked over to the closest table and started pulling out his equipment. "First of all, I need you to get men to clear a stretch of land, ready for Thunderbird Two to arrive. About 300 square feet to ensure everyone is out of harm's way. The land needs to be firm and stable, as we don't want to collapse any more of your mining tunnels. Their ETA is about 15 minutes."
Anna nodded, and indicated to the man closest to her. "Johnson, get Nicky Albright and 'Spud' Schofield to help you co-ordinate men to assist you in clearing a space. Probably the West side on the ridge is safest."
"Yes, ma'am," Johnson nodded and disappeared.
"I also need a map of your site, as I need to get the specifications of tunnel layouts. We are looking at using a piece of our equipment to drill a tunnel down to your men. Do you know if they are all together?" Gordon enquired.
Anna shook her head. "We spoke with several of the men trapped in the elevator and they each reckon that the men are in the same space. However we can't be sure, as the elevator door closed on them before the majority of the collapse happened."
A map was shoved onto the table in front of Gordon and he spread it out flat, looking at the detailed layout of the mine. "How far away was the drill you used to test the mineral deposits, from the collapsed area?"
Anna leaned over the blueprints. "The collapse is about here in Shaft Six" she pointed to an area on the map, "and the drilling was happening a half kilometre away, in Shaft Four, here."
Gordon converted the lengths and noted that, although the distance should have been sufficient, the layout of the tunnels spanned three sides of a square, indicating that an eventual collapse would have been imminent in its future. "Why did you not realise that you have three shafts here, which leaves all of this rock and soil open to a possible collapse?"
Anna looked over at her site conveyor, who shrugged and said, "They're on different levels, mate. They shouldn't have mattered."
Gordon was disgusted. "Well, obviously it did." Observing the map in more detail, he quickly pencilled in some measurements and pointed to a space that was a possible consideration for a clean, diagonal run by the Mole. "If we tunnel down from over here on a forty-five degree angle, we could reach those men within about 2 hours, as long as there are no further collapses. Have you conducted tests to check the mine's stability?"
"We're still in the process of doing that; they should have their results within the next ten minutes."
"Perfect," Gordon stood up straight. "Well, I'm going to radio my teammates and advise them of the situation."
"No worries. Let us know what else you need us to do." Anna shook his hand and turned to address her colleagues.
Well, now we're getting somewhere, Gordon thought as he radioed in his findings to Thunderbird's Two, Five and Base Control.
Half an hour later saw Thunderbird Two landed, with Virgil and Alan safely enclosed within the Mole and about to start drilling. The nine men had been lifted out of the mine's chute, and the mine's stability safety report had been received, with the go ahead for Gordon's plan.
"Mole to Mobile Control, we're about to start drilling, Scott," Alan's voice came through the radio.
"FAB, Alan. You make sure Virgil drives her safely." Gordon sacrificed his usual joke and instead spoke Scott's usual safety warning.
"FAB, Scott."
Two hours later, dawn had finally arrived, yet Gordon already felt exhausted from dealing with the stress of having to sit and watch as his brothers drilled down under so-many tonnes of rock, and with the locals who kept coming to ask questions and give advice. Still keeping in constant contact with Virgil and Alan while also having to repeatedly update his father and John on the boys' slow efforts – at least it felt to Gordon like they were taking their sweet time - was yet another necessary requirement he had to do, which was frustrating when he had nothing new to report. His stomach rumbled hungrily as well, since he had been unable to keep his breakfast down earlier.
At least Gordon didn't have to deal with scared family members or the media. The mine-site was off-limits to the public, although Gordon had at least ensured that phone calls had been made to the trapped men's families to advise them of the situation. They all were now awaiting news from outside of the compound.
Alan's voice came over the 'waves. "Mole calling Mobile Control, do you receive me?"
"I hear you Alan, what's the sitch – ah, the situation?" Gordon asked, nearly tripping on his usual slang of the word.
"Pretty good, we've made good time. As we said before, we hit harder rock 20 minutes ago and had to decrease our speed, however we are now about 15-16 feet away from the miners. We are receiving thermal heat readings for all three, although no one seems to be moving. Slowing pace now to 18 rotations per minute; we'll advise when we have them."
"FAB, Alan. Let me know when you are about to extract."
Anna, came up behind Gordon, having heard Alan's report. "What's that distance in metres? Five?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Our boys shouldn't take long to retrieve your men and then it's a matter of returning."
Anna looked up at Gordon in admiration. "You boys are so amazing. It would have taken us weeks to reach them."
Gordon blushed at the praise, yet managed to sound professional as he returned, "It's our business, ma'am. That's why the people call us."
Anna nodded, and turned back to Gordon's monitoring set-up. "Do you know if they are still alive?"
"The fact that there are thermal readings is a good thing, however it is a slight worry about the strength of the reading, and of the fact that they aren't moving – we can only wait and see."
Anna wrung her hands together. "God, the impact that this incident could do on our stock shares if they're dead – it could ruin us."
Gordon looked at her beseechingly in anger. "Are you serious?! I would've thought that their lives would be more important above all else, ma'am. After all, we consider it so - it's why we put our own lives at risk whenever we try and save someone."
"No! I didn't mean it to sound like that," Anna despaired. "It's just, I have a lot of workers and their families to consider – this mine employs nearly half of the men in this town, as well as others that fly in each fortnight from different states. Often about 10-15% of staff who get scared whenever something like this happens will quit – then we have to employ others, train them, ensure they have the right mindset to work… it's just a lot to think about, is all…"
Gordon nodded. "I understand. Occasionally we'll get a scare during a rescue and we'll worry about what it'll do to the rest of the team – being so close to each other, it would be devastating if we lost someone. Even now, I'm worried about my two buddies down there – there's always something that could go wrong."
Suddenly, Alan's voice piped up again over the radio, just as a commotion broke out amongst the workers outside. "Stop! What do you think you are doing? You can't go over there!" The shouting was loud as Johnson came rushing in.
"Miss Temple! Mr Scott! There's several people attempting to go over to the mine-site – I think its Joe and Stephen, Aaron's brothers!"
"Who's Aaron?" asked Gordon as he rushed outside, ignoring Alan's call-in.
"He's of one of the men still down there," panted Johnson.
"What are they doing here on-site?" Gordon fumed.
"They work here – they're not rostered on right now, but technically they could have easily entered the compound as they have the right clearances."
"Did no one tell them what was happening?" Gordon sprinted over towards where the men were last seen.
"They've gone! They've gone down!" Nicky Albright ran over towards them.
"Gone down where?"
"The shaft your IR buddies dug out!"
"Darn it!" Gordon swore. He keyed his watch, which was now vibrating anyway. "Mobile Control to the Mole, can you copy? You have to cease working now! Turn off your machine! We've had two men follow you down, brothers of one of the men. Do you copy?"
Virgil's face appeared. "Scott! What's going on? Alan tried to call you not two minutes ago! We've arrived at our destination and are about to open the hatch to get the men out. If there are men in the tunnel, you have to get them out before the fumes from the Mole overwhelm them completely."
"I know!" Gordon fretted. "Just do what you can, but sit tight while I deal with this! I'll inform you when I know more!"
Gordon stood silent for a moment, thinking "what would Scott do?", before nodding to himself affirmably and indicated to Johnson and Nicky, who were standing nearby. "You two - follow me! Are you both qualified to do search and rescue?" Gordon turned to race back towards Thunderbird Two, but heard their affirmatives as they sprinted alongside him. "Good. I am going to be sending you both down with a more efficient breathing apparatus to fetch your men out. Being that the slope is on a 45 degree angle, it shouldn't be too hard to walk down, grab them and get out again, however as the gravel is loose and could start a small rockslide, we'll have you both tied to safety lines as an extra precaution. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
Gordon reached the immense, green bird and rushed in, leaving the two men at the door. Less than a minute later, he rushed out again on a hover bike, with rope and equipment slung over his shoulders.
"Get on!" he called out. Once the two men had scrambled on the back, he gunned the engine and raced over to the entrance. Passing the equipment to the two men, he instructed how to use them correctly.
"I'd go down myself boys, but this is a job for you. Consider yourselves honorary IR agents right now, as I can't do this without you." Gordon passed one of them a walkie-talkie. "When you find them, let me know with this. They can't have gotten too far in – the tunnel would be about half a mile long, but they could have lost consciousness after a few hundred feet. The fumes can be dangerous if you breathe them in too long, so be sure that you don't take your masks off! Any questions?"
"No, sir!"
Gordon had to hand it to them for their complete professionalism – they hooked themselves up to their safety lines and checked each other's connections, before starting off on their own rescue.
Gordon, meanwhile, updated John and his father on the situation. Anna then arrived at a brisk pace, saying, "I've got ambulance services on their way in – I had previously instructed them to stay back until we got the last of the men out."
"Thank you very much, Miss Temple, that's good thinking," Gordon said, wiping at his sweaty brow.
"Please, call me Anna," Anna said.
"Then thank you, Anna," Gordon said. He turned to face the entrance to the tunnel, hoping that the two local men were able to get their jobs done safely and efficiently.
Gordon's wrist buzzed and he lifted it up to his face. "Hi Virg, how's it going?"
"All is going well, Alan's managed to collect two of the men – one is unconscious, and the second is hurt pretty bad, but the third one is alright – he's just gone to get him out now. It'll be a tight fit in here on the trip back, but that can't be helped. How's it going at your end?"
"It's going alright. I've sent down two of the local workers to fetch their men out; we've got emergency services here awaiting their arrival. After that, you should be free to crank up the Mole again and retract yourselves out of there." Gordon felt a bit light-headed after the adrenaline rush, and he must've looked it too, as Virgil again asked if he was okay.
"I'm fine bro – you just worry about what's happening at your end. You should be free and clear to exit within ten minutes."
"FAB, Mobile Control. You stay fresh up there," Virgil breezed. Gordon knew at his light tone though that he'd be getting further questioned at a later time.
Another hour and a half later saw that daylight of the morning was well underway in Australia. The two brothers of the trapped miner had long ago been sent safely to hospital with nothing more than inhalation difficulties. The Mole had arrived back with the three men, where one man had a broken arm and another with a concussion and leg injury. They had quickly been taken away by more waiting ambulances. Everything was starting to quieten down and be packed up.
It took Gordon two tries to correctly wrap up Mobile Control – it was one of those annoying fold-downs where it could only be done the one way – and Virgil and Alan were already packed up and nearly ready to go.
"Hey Al! Mind taking this back to the ship? I just need to let Anna know that we're off," Gordon called out, waving the bag containing Mobile Control.
Alan came jogging over and took the bag from 'Scott'. "No problems, Scotty. We'll see you back at base."
"Yep - sure thing," Gordon said.
Shaking hands with Anna, Gordon also shook hands with Johnson and Nicky Albright for their great work during the rescue.
"It took a load off my shoulders, so thanks very much guys," Gordon said honestly.
"No worries mate – just let us know if there's a sign-up sheet for International Rescue – maybe you can vouch for us," Nicky kidded.
"Ha ha, sure thing," Gordon turned to head back to Thunderbird One, looking forward to arriving home - although dreading the trip's G forces - when he received a strange call from Alan.
"Hey Al, what's up? You guys take off well?"
Alan awkwardly paused before answering, clearly giving 'Scott' a quick once-over. "Yep – everything's fine bro. I just wanted to say 'enjoy the drive home', though you might want to tidy up a bit first. You kind of left Thunderbird One in an unusually messy state for you."
"If you say so, Al..." Gordon signed off, puzzled at Alan's cryptic message. That is, until he reached Thunderbird One and found that an awful smell awaited him. He'd forgotten all about the flight sickness he'd experienced all those hours earlier when he first landed.
"Bugger!" Gordon said aloud, before setting about cleaning up the mess. The horrible pungent smell would not be making his drive home a welcome one.
Scott was going to kill him.
Hey everyone! Terribly sorry that I take forever between updates, but I severely struggled with writer's block for this chapter, as I have no clue about mining whatsoever (which is why I kept this chapter so long, to make up for disappearing for a while!) I must say that I had quite a lot of help and inspiration from different writers on FF, as I am unfamiliar with the full workings of the Mole and the Thunderbirds. If I have accidentally taken liberties with anybody's personal take on the workings of the machines, then I apologise profusely, and please let me know as it was unintentional. Hopefully you will consider it as a compliment to your great writing skills!
Anyway, since I am now over this horrible hurdle of a chapter, it should be much easier for me to update more often! (I wrote other sections of this story as I was so stuck on this chapter, so now all I have to do is fill in the gaps!) although as I am a slow writer, and currently moving house and have several uni assignments due, please note that it may take a few weeks. However, I WILL be finishing this story, as I feel that the characters (and you) all deserve it.
So until next time, your words inspire me to write faster, so please consider this clue for the next chapter: Can anybody spot what Gordon might have done wrong during this rescue?