A/N: My apologies for the delay, for some reason ff has not been allowing me to upload this file for the last week or so. In any case, it's time for Scott to have his say on the theme of 'Promises'. Thanks again to Quiller for checking this over for me - as always, remaining mistakes and those I've added back since she saw it are all my own, and comments are eagerly welcomed!

Scott - While lives are in danger


The crowd was quiet and tense. I watched them from Mobile Control, my eyes picking out pale faces and hands grasped tight, writhing as they twisted in unconscious motion. Even Thunderbird Two's landing caused no more than a low, worried murmur.

I think they knew.

I think they already understood that this wasn't going to be the miracle they were all hoping for. They'd probably suspected it since the building fell, long before I brought Thunderbird One overhead to sweep the unstable wreckage with infrared, radar and sonar scans. I was pretty sure the local police lieutenant knew it too. He was back on the perimeter, checking with his officers, talking quietly to others in the crowd, but his sombre eyes swept back to me from time to time, and past me to the muster point on the far side of the danger zone.

He could see as well as I could what the danger here really was.

Two settled in a cloud of dust. Virgil jogged up to Mobile Control before it cleared, his serious expression a match for my own. "No go, Scott?"

I spared my brother a shake of my head. "Carter won't budge. I can't convince him."

The words ground out of me. Virgil followed my gaze to the cluster of local rescue crews visible beyond Thunderbird Two's bulk. His brown eyes were tight with strain but as determined as my own. We'd known before we left the Island what we were getting into. It had all been there in John's face when he called down from Five and told us we had a Kolkata Situation.

Kolkata, where there'd never been a chance of survivors.

Where first satellite scans, then local rescue equipment and finally an army unit who'd turned out from their base nearby had confirmed no signs of life. Kolkata, where Brains concluded there was no chance of our even getting to the bodies without a serious risk of disaster. Where Dad decided not to launch... and a local rescue unit of seven souls went in despite all our warnings.

Where only one of them came out.

Dad had been right. We all knew that. When the bodies were finally recovered – after almost a week of delicate stabilisation work – they'd proved beyond doubt that none of the initial victims had still been alive when the rescuers set out. That didn't ease the guilt for any of us.

It had taught us a lesson. It had given us a shorthand too. Now, when the calls came in, at least we knew what the stakes were.

The local fire chief had introduced himself in a near-snarl as Nathan Carter. He wasn't a big man, but his frame was solid and well trained. He had to be in his forties, a little older than either Virgil or me, and used to being obeyed. Impatience had driven him back to his own crews while we waited for Thunderbird Two. It was still there as he jogged back to Mobile Control, frustration written on his face. Behind him, we could see his team rigging up, checking one another's gear as they prepared.

"Let me guess?" His expression was an angry sneer. "You've assessed the situation and decided to back out?"

Carter had seen the same evidence we had. I'd shown him our data as well as reviewing his own while we waited for Thunderbird Two to arrive. Even so, he'd not listened to my arguments, or accepted the evidence in front of him. He'd insisted that we couldn't be sure. That there was still hope, and we couldn't sit back and do nothing. The idea that the two missing victims, probably personal friends in a town this small, had been gone before he even called us was incomprehensible to him. He'd rejected it utterly and turned instead on those, like his police colleague, like me, who tried to make him see it.

"I am briefing my team-mate, sir." I kept my voice polite, but put a note of command in it. I'd be courteous, but there were limits. "Now if you'd just back off a little as I asked? We're going to need room when we decide on equipment."

I could see Virgil weighing up the man, making his own judgement about Carter's state of mind and then looking at the buzz of activity behind him, before turning back to me with a short nod.

"I'll unload the Domo." He paused, considering, as his eyes ran over the piled rubble and then leaned over Mobile Control to check a detail on its screen. "And the Firefly."

"F.A.B."

Virgil hurried off before the fire chief could think of anything to say, not looking back. I ignored the man's bluster myself, in turns relieved and concerned that Virgil agreed with my opinion.

If it had just been this one man holding out against reason, we could have removed him and settled the situation, but there were at least a dozen others, a unit from this town and another from one of its near-neighbours, at the muster point. Like their chief, they were fully expecting us to bug out, and readying themselves to take our place. Behind them, a subset of the crowd, one swollen with able-bodied men, pressed forward, urging them on and even willing to join them.

If we left now, as all reason and the plain facts demanded, then others would brave the wreckage in our stead. Others less well equipped, less experienced and far less protected.

Just like Kolkata.

The Pod door dropped and I could hear the roar of the Domo as its engine started. Muttering a repeated order to back off at the fire chief, I locked down Mobile Control and jogged over to the ramp, as determined as Virgil to complete the job in front of us.

We might never have said it aloud, never put words to the thought, but we each made a promise when International Rescue went into operation. It's one we renewed after Kolkata, one we're determined to keep.

We can't save every poor soul lost to tragedy and disaster, but we will never turn away when one is in danger. If it's in our power to prevent the loss of a single life, we'll do so – whatever that takes.


I was in the Domo, fighting the inevitable, when the wreckage completed its fall, crashing down into the building's third sub-basement and taking first the Firefly and then the Domo itself with it. Checking with Virgil over the radio, too tense and too busy to spare any of my attention, I didn't get to watch the fire chief's reaction. It was only later, when I reviewed the footage from Mobile Control's automatic vide-log, that I saw the blood drain from Carter's face and the ghastly pallor of realisation overtake him. In that moment, he knew that what Virgil and I had survived would have annihilated him and his men. I saw his fists clench tight by his side, a momentary tremor shaking him… and then his jaw clenched, his cheeks flushing red.

At the time, I didn't see, and I didn't care. Virgil and I had other things on our minds.

We were both filthy and exhausted when we located the two long-dead victims and brought them back to those who loved them. There were cries of grief, and even one or two of anger, as we failed to produce the miracle they'd hoped for against all reason. We handed the bodies off to the local ambulance crew at the muster point, nodding sombre acknowledgement of their thanks, and only then taking the time to look one another over and breathe deeply of the fresh air outside the rubble.

It was Virgil who noticed Carter first. His tired eyes flicked over my shoulder, his expression wary. I turned, and there the man was. His gaze was raised to the Firefly and the Domo, still parked in the open and showing the dents and scrapes that bore mute testimony to their fall. The fire chief was still pale, but his body was rigid with tension. He turned back to us and there was no apology in his expression that I could see, and no doubt. Conviction and determination had overtaken his shock. He and his men would have been killed, he knew that. And he knew, as I knew and Virgil knew, that hindsight changed nothing in this duty of ours. Convinced there was still hope, he'd have gone in whatever the risk - and even now he believed with all his heart that he'd had no other choice to make.

"Nathaniel?" The call stopped us from having to find words for the moment.

The fire chief half-turned, expression surprised. The crowd around the perimeter was starting to break up, hope gone. The gap where the ambulance left the muster still hadn't closed, and a woman stood there, patting the district lieutenant's arm in thanks as he lifted a tape to let her through.

"Beth, you shouldn't be in here." Carter muttered the words without real force behind them. It was the first hint of softening I'd seen in the man, an awkwardness that contrasted sharply with the brusque exterior we'd seen. The woman, his wife most likely, ignored him, crossing the concrete underfoot at a near-run to throw her arms around him.

"I was in town when I heard the news. I was so worried about you."

We didn't hear what he said to her in return. Virgil tapped my arm and I nodded, heading back to load the Domo, leaving the couple their privacy.

It was the police lieutenant who thanked me as I was packing up Mobile Control, his voice low but grateful.

"Not your fault what happened. You fellers did your best." His eyes tightened at the corners in recognition of the lives lost, but his attention was focussed back at the muster, and on the man now marshalling the fire-crews back to their trucks. "Thank you for trying." He hesitated. "Nathan Carter's a good man. He would have done what he could…"

The sentiment trailed off, the implications unspoken. I met the cop's eyes with my own, putting my understanding into my steady gaze.

"I never doubted it."

Like us, Carter had promised never to give up on a soul who could be saved. We'd kept our promise, so he didn't have to.

I remembered the pale face of the man's wife, and the glimpses I'd had of other worried faces, others who would hold those brave fire crews tight tonight and shake as they thought of what might have been.

The thought sustained me as I watched Thunderbird Two launch and then climbed into my cockpit, weary and ready to return home. Despite the bitterness of the rescue, I knew that today's job had been well done.

Some promises were worth keeping.


The End.