a/n Reworked 9th November, 2008
Chapter 7 – Defying Gravity
Tara was probably the one most eagerly awaiting the day of the trip to the Ireland Campus – more so than any of her friends, at any rate, so when the day finally arrived, Tara was the first out of bed, the first to throw on her jeans, sneakers, white singlet and grey cardigan, and most definitely the first to bring her bags down to the waiting coaches.
Then, she set about waking her friends in the Draconis 5th Form dormitory, and skipped down to breakfast.
Soon enough, the girls were loaded onto the buses, with Tara, Charlotte, Ophelia, Amber and Jenny claiming the back seat and giggling in excitement over what was to come.
Just before they left the school, however, Headmistress Thickett strode onto the coach and glared at the troublemakers at the back.
"Miss. Creighton Ward, just because I know you're going to do something inappropriate on this trip, detention when you return,"
"But—What?"
"You heard me, Miss. Creighton-Ward. You will complete a detention when you return, regardless of any good behaviour. It will be more if I receive reports of rowdy and unseemly behaviour from you by any staff member. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly, Headmistress," Tara responded poisonously. Thickett clicked her tongue.
"Another for that disgusting and disrespectful tone," the girl glowered at the headmistress' retreating back, until Jenny nudged her.
"You realise one more detention, and you'll be tied with the school's record?"
Tara swore under her breath.
"That would just be my luck, wouldn't it?"
Amber snickered.
"Probably. But you'd go down in history as "Tara Creighton-Ward: Biggest delinquent ever,"
The Asian girl let out a small cry as the blonde's hand shot out to smack her arm.
The moment they arrived, were shown to their rooms, and had unpacked, Tara stumbled out to the vast grassy fields surrounding the campus and closed her eyes, spinning around in the warm, golden sunlight.
Already she could see herself enjoying it here.
With smothered laughter, Tara heard her friends approach, and she flopped down onto the ground, a contented smile dancing over her lips.
"A Free day. Are there any sweeter words?"
"Ding, dong, the headmistress is dead?" Tara supplied, cracking open an azure eye as the four other teenagers sat around her.
"Charming," Jenny drawled, withdrawing the hand-held radio Tara had been given as "team leader" for their challenges over the next two weeks, "Wonder what the range on this thing is,"
Tara took it off her, rolling onto her stomach to examine it.
"Pretty good, by the looks of things. This transmitter's one of the more powerful ones on the market,"
"How do you know?" the blonde flashed her friend a dazzling smile.
"You know I study useless skills during my break times,"
"What, like defensive driving?" Tara laughed.
"No, that was recommended to me by Mr. North. He... seemed to think I would benefit from learning defensive and stunt driving,"
"So why electronics?"
"A family friend's a brilliant inventor. Thought it might be nice to actually understand what the hell Brains is going on about half the time," the girl handed the radio back to Jenny and rested her chin on her palms, "Why'd you want to know the range?"
Jenny gave her a dazzling grin.
"I was hoping we could call up International Rescue,"
"I'm sure they've got better things to do than listen to gushing fangirls. Besides, do you really want to make their egos grow?"
"I bet they don't have egos," Ophelia sighed dreamily, "They seem so humble,"
"That's so hot," Amber agreed.
Tara groaned.
"Nothing I say will convince you this is a bad idea, will it?"
"Nope,"
The blonde collapsed facedown on the grass.
"Fine," she murmured, "But if they get mad, I had nothing to do with it. In fact," Tara rose, "I'm going to go and climb that tree over there and sit in it until you're done,"
"'kay," Tara rolled her eyes and made for the tree.
The irony of this whole situation was that the only one whom International Rescue would not become glaringly frustrated with hailing them in a non-emergency situation had just gone and sat in a tree.
Oh well.
Such is the nature of life.
The moment she was out of earshot, Tara's watch went off.
"Hold on," she told Alan after pressing the receive button, "I'm just climbing a tree. Give me 5 minutes,"
"I... don't want to know, do I?"
Tara cracked a grin.
"Doubt it,"
Many, many miles away, a bald man sat behind a desk in a Malaysian temple, looking, for all points and purposes, like a stereotypical villain.
All he was missing was the fluffy Persian cat. Which was mainly due to his horrible cat allergy.
So, he sat at his desk, instead, leaning back, fingers steepled to his temple.
"If I could take out International Rescue's operatives..." he contemplated aloud, "I could disable the Thunderbirds... But how?" he stood, walking to a tall statue of stone.
"I must find out the leader of the operatives. I must know their weakness," His eyes began to glow a sickly yellow.
"Kyrano. Kyrano – Kyrano, my half brother! Where is the leader of the International Rescue Operatives? Where is their weakness?" his powerful voice demanded.
Thousands of miles away, that same voice echoed in the head of one Kyrano, who crumpled to a heap on the ground, moaning aloud at the pain it caused.
"Th—th—"
"ANSWER ME, KYRANO,"
"Creighton-Ward! Thorntree Academy!" he cried out.
Kyrano collapsed into a dead faint.
The man in the Malaysian temple grinned.
The weakness was at Thorntree Academy.
One Creighton-Ward.
He would find her and destroy her.
Tara and her friends were sprawled over the ground beside the lake at the back of the Ireland grounds.
They had been there for three days now and Tara had to say she was enjoying it.
The group challenges were fun, and she was all-too-easily taking on the role of leader over not only her friends, but the others thrust in her group.
It was fun.
At this point in time, however, they were in between challenges, and enjoying a few moments of free time before the next one started.
"Oh Tars!" Amber sat up abruptly, "Did I show you the earrings Dan gave me for our 6 month anniversary?" Tara lazily opened an eye.
"Nope, you didn't," she responded. Amber beamed, thrusting a hand into her pocket.
With a look of deep concentration, she searched for a few moments, before coming up with nothing but pocket fluff.
She pouted.
"I can't find them," eyes widened in horror, "What if I've lost them?"
"Relax, Ams," Charlotte soothed, "I'm sure they're just inside,"
"Come with me to get them?" the dark haired Spaniard didn't get a chance to protest as Amber grabbed her arm, hauled her up, and dragged her towards the school.
The girls easily made their way to their downstairs dormitory, and Amber threw open the door to their room.
Something inside flashed and a deafening boom resonated through the building.
Another sounded from above them, and many more from all throughout the school.
The stone floor began to shake, and a shock wave threw the girls back into the hall.
Rubble began falling from the ceiling, and Charlotte stumbled, her leg snapping easily as timber support beams tumbled down, one catching her right leg as it fell.
Amber fell backwards, and let the blackness swimming in her vision consume her.
Azure eyes snapped towards the school the moment the explosion occurred, and all the girls gathered felt the heat wave strike them from the school.
All those who weren't outside for the lunchbreak were pouring out the door, running furiously from the school which was now beginning to blaze
"Fuck!" Tara swore loudly, jumping to her feet, "Amber and Charlotte were in there!"
Jenny's arm closed over Tara's forearm before the girl could sprint in after them.
"Tara, we can't! It's too dangerous! We need help to rescue them!"
Rescue.
The word made Tara snatch the radio from her belt.
"Calling International Rescue! International Rescue! This is Tara Creighton-Ward at the Thorntree Academy Ireland Campus. Can you hear me International Rescue?"
Up on Thunderbird 5, John looked up from his magazine and leaned over to the receiver where Tara's desperate voice flowed through.
"This is International Rescue, Thorntree. What seems to be the—"
"No time! John, someone's set bombs off in the main building. We need Thunderbirds 1 and 2 and the Firefly. I've got two friends trapped inside – We need this ASAP,"
"FAB, Tara. I'll call the island. You find out just how many people are trapped inside,"
"FAB," the blonde responded, shrugging off Jenny's grasp, before she turned to her two remaining friends, handing Ophelia the radio.
"Jenny, I want you to run a roll call. Find out how many people are still inside. Ophelia, I'm giving you the radio. When Jenny finds out, tell International Rescue. They're on their way. I want you to be their liason if they need it,"
"But why don't you keep it?" Tara tied up her hair in a high ponytail.
"Because," she stripped off her cardigan and straightened the cuff on her right wrist, "I'm going inside,"
She turned back to Jenny who looked like she was about to object.
"Do me a favour? If any of them start ranting about my irresponsibility, tell them I've got my watch,"
The blonde tied a scarf around her nose and mouth, then turned, took a deep breath, and sprinted inside.
"Scott, John will brief you on the way,"
"FAB, father," Scott immediately moved to the lamps and made his entry into the Thunderbird 1 silo and his ship.
"Virgil, Tara's requested the Firefly. There also may be people trapped inside, so I think you should take Alan and Gordon with you. Alan, the moment you know something, I want you to call in. We cannot risk anything happening to Tara,"
The three remaining sons nodded curtly.
"FAB father,"
Jeff watched his sons leave, before turning back to John's portrait.
"Call Tara, John. Tell her International Rescue is on its way,"
"FAB," John turned, sliding across to the transmitter Tara was on.
"Thorntree Academy, this is International Rescue,"
"International Rescue, this is Thorntree Academy," John's brow furrowed at the unfamiliar voice.
"You're not Tara. What happened to her?"
"She's gone inside!" came the desperate reply.
"WHAT?" John fumed, "Doesn't she realise how dangerous that is? That hardheaded little—"
"She told me to tell you that she has her watch,"
John froze.
"Her... watch?"
The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose.
She had a communicator.
Tara coughed through her scarf in the thick, grey smog. She dropped to the floor, crawling as low to the ground as she could.
So far, so good. She hadn't encountered any fires yet.
Then her watch went off.
She winced.
"TARA BELLE AMELIA CREIGHTON-WARD, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
"Going in after my friends, John," she coughed again, "Little busy. Yell at me later," she hung up.
The girl reached the small staircase to the dorms and slid down it, wiping the perspiration from her brow.
More than anything, at that point, she wished she had an International Rescue fire suit.
She wiped away more beads of sweat that trickled down her brow.
In the distance, the blonde heard a scream, and began crawling in that direction. The debris was falling more heavily around her, and Tara did her best to avoid it, but the last roll out of the way ended with her wrist smashed heavily against the wall.
She grimaced.
The face of the watch was shattered.
"Sorry Alan," she murmured, before sliding along the wall to the nearest door leading to the rooms.
The girl pressed a hand against it and swore.
The door was hot.
There was a fire on the other side.
She glanced around and searched for something.
Anything.
The moment Scott arrived, he called in the island to let everyone know he was there and to inform them of the situation.
Then he lowered the ramp and walked out, silver uniform glinting in the afternoon sun.
A dark haired girl sprinted over, and introduced herself in a babble, as Jenny, and began to fill him in, but he held up a hand.
"How long ago did Miss. Creighton-Ward go in?"
"About 5 minutes," Jenny bit her lip, "I'm so scared,"
Scott turned his watch around and keyed something in.
"Thunderbird two, what's your ETA?"
"3.5 minutes. Why?"
"Things aren't looking good here. Alan, try hailing Tara on her communicator, she's been inside for coming up on 5 minutes, and no-one's heard from her since,"
"SHE DID WHAT?"
"Calm down. Call her,"
Alan took a few steadying breaths, then pressed a button on his own watch.
"Tara?"
No reply
"Tara, this is Alan. Do you read?"
Dead air.
"TARA, DAMNIT ANSWER ME,"
Nothing.
"Maybe she can't hear it over the fire?" Virgil supplied. Alan moaned, sinking lower in his seat.
"If something's happened to her..." Gordon patted his brother's back gently.
"She's Tara. She won't go down without a fight,"
"Goddamn fucking—" Tara grumbled, sliding through the back hallway to the dorms.
Tara heard the scream, again, but this time could make out words.
"Help! Someone! Help!"
It was Charlotte.
Tara no longer cared about the smoke. All she wanted was to get her friends out alive.
The huge green jet pulled into a landing, and Alan lowered the pod with Virgil and Gordon inside.
Alan, of course, was commanded to stay, seeing as the students and staff may recognise him.
Virgil opened the pod door and drove the firefly out, taking it to clear the burning rubble from before the school.
It had been almost 10 minutes now, and there was still no word from Tara.
Alan furiously paced the cockpit, not being able to stand not knowing if she was dead or alive.
Tara couldn't die. Not now. Not when they were so close again.
She couldn't.
He wouldn't let her.
Tara kicked down the last door, finding Charlotte pinned under a beam and Amber unconscious nearby.
She swore loudly.
"Tara!" Charlotte turned as much as she could, "You came!"
"International Rescue are too. Come on, I've got to get you two out," she knelt beside Amber and began gently slapping the girl's face, "C'mon, Ams. Don't do this to me now,"
Slowly, Amber began to stir.
"Tara?" she murmured groggily, "Izzat you?"
"It's me. Come on. Wake up, I'm getting you two out of here,"
She then turned to Charlotte and saw the beam.
"Fuck," Tara raked her fingers through her hair and crouched, getting a firm grip on the beam and hauling.
It didn't budge.
Adrenaline was coursing through her system, but still Tara couldn't move it.
Her eyes darted around the room, and settled on an iron post, debris from the first explosion.
She snatched it up and turned back to Charlotte, wedging the post between the beam and the floor, and used it to lever the wood off the Spaniard. Charlotte dragged herself back and let out painful gasps.
"Tara, my leg's broken,"
"I know," the blonde moaned, "I'm going to have to haul you out of here on my back," she crouched beside the broken leg and stripped off her scarf, using it to tie a fast tourniquet over the laceration to stem the bleeding. Then she hauled her friend onto her back, ordering Charlotte to use her legs to keep her there as best she could and to hold on tight.
Amber was now slightly more alert, and Tara ordered her up.
"Follow me. Nobody gets left behind,"
Fifteen minutes.
It had been fifteen-goddamn-minutes and they'd heard nothing.
Virgil and Gordon had cleared the entrance as best as they could and dealt with as many of the fires as possible, and now were just waiting with Scott by Thunderbird 1.
Scott, of course, was still fuming at Tara's heroism. Particularly after Jenny had informed him that Tara, Charlotte and Amber were the only ones inside now – everyone else had been accounted for.
"You know," Gordon sighed, "If she doesn't make it out, Lady P's going to slaughter us,"
"Oh, she'll make it out," Scott cracked his knuckles, "and then I'll slaughter her myself,"
"Tars?" Amber coughed, "Are we going to die?"
"No," Tara was firm, "Not on my watch," the blonde covered her nose and mouth with her hand, her head starting to spin.
"I don't feel well, Tars,"
"Hold on, 'Lotte. We're getting out of here, I promise you,"
The flames roared around the girls, dancing and smouldering over the debris.
Everything that was once the library was gone.
"We're almost there," Tara muttered, crawling around a spot fire, "We can hold on,"
Tara's lungs protested, her throat burning in the smoke and the heat.
Her entire body seemed to protest no more. Charlotte was getting heavier, and Tara's stomach sank.
It'd be a fight to move past the next doorway.
'Please,' she prayed silently, 'Let us get out of here. I have to live, even if it's just to see everyone again. I'm too young to die – I can't say goodbye. Not yet,'
The smoke was getting overpowering. Tara began a coughing fit.
"Tars? You OK?" Tara's only response was her spluttering.
Amber watched fearfully as Tara collapsed in front of her.
Alan had tried repeatedly to hail Tara's communicator, but he still had no response.
Now, frustrated, he decided to see if he could raise her bio readings. If she was wearing it, it should tell him if she's alive or not.
He pressed a few buttons, and his stomach sank.
"No!"
Suddenly it didn't matter if people knew who he was. He sprinted down the ramp to his brothers.
"She's dead!" three pairs of eyes snapped to their sibling.
"What?"
"The watch. It's not getting readings. She's dead," Alan choked, "Tara's dead,"
Virgil, Scott and Alan all stood, staring at the zero readings, heads bowed. But Gordon still watched the school.
"She's dead," Virgil muttered, "Ra-ra's dead,"
"Not today," Gordon shoved his brothers to get their attention, "Look!"
Sure enough, an ash covered Tara Creighton-Ward stumbled out of the school, leading a coughing Amber Lam, and carrying a wounded Charlotte Silva.
Eyes wide, the four International Rescuers tore down to the blonde.
Alan caught her as she stumbled forward.
"Tara!" Gordon took the wounded girl from her back while Virgil led the other towards the medics. Tara smiled weakly up at the silver-suited boys.
"You're alright," the girl nodded, coughing.
"Mostly," she managed to rasp out. She opened her mouth to continue, but a medic took her, offering her water and sticking her on a ventilator.
Tara took a few deep breaths, until she could breathe without coughing, and turned back to look at Alan.
"Now I'm okay," she flashed him a warm smile.
"You idiot," Alan took her into a hug, "You should've waited for us,"
"They're my friends, Alan. I couldn't risk waiting for you guys to turn up,"
"I understand that, but you're going to have to explain that to the higher ups," Tara's eyes widened in horror.
"Oh no. You didn't—"
"Yeah. Dad called your mother,"
Tara swore under her breath.
Jeff, Lady Penelope, Parker, Tin-tin and Kyrano had gathered in Jeff's study, awaiting news from the boys.
It had been 20 minutes since John had told them of his brief conversation with Tara, and 19 since Scott had last called in to confirm the blonde had run inside.
Penelope was beside herself, sobbing, whilst Parker comforted her as best he could.
Jeff sighed, running his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, hoping for some good news.
It was then Scott's eyes began glowing on his portrait. Jeff pressed the accept button on his desk, raising the speaker.
"Go ahead, Scott,"
"Father! She's alive! Tara's alive!" Penelope looked up, mascara running down her cheeks.
"Alive?"
"Yes Father!" Gordon butted in, "Alan's with her now. She rescued her friends and made it out alive! She's a heroaah! Father, it's Alice Cooper!"
Jeff raised an eyebrow at his second youngest son. Lady Penelope glared.
"Where is my daughter, Gordon Cooper Tracy?" she gave him her best icy tone. Gordon rolled his eyes.
"It was just a joke, Lady P. Lighten up. Tara's about to be taken to the Eolande Hospital,"
The blonde woman stood, wiping what makeup she could from her cheeks, and turned to Parker.
"Get the Rolls. We're going to see my daughter,"
Penelope and Parker raced through the hospital doors and into the small room where Tara was seated on a bed, hooked up to a ventilator for her smoke inhalation.
As it was, she sat on the bed, pouting.
"Tara!" Penelope swooped in, embracing her daughter and kissing her forehead.
Tara was taken aback.
"Mother...?"
"Oh Tara, I'm so proud of you for rescuing your friends, but I was so worried!"
"Mother...?"
"Calm down, Lady P. Tara was brilliant," Azure eyes flitted to the door where the four Tracy brothers stood, now dressed down in their normal clothing.
"Not many girls would run into a burning building to save their friends from almost certain death," Virgil scuffed the girls hair happily while Tara glared, poking him in the stomach. Scott laughed, and Gordon sat on the foot of her bed. Alan squeezed her hand, beaming as he set down a small gift box containing a new communicator watch on her beside.
Tara lay back on her pillows, sighing lightly.
'Maybe,' she thought, 'Maybe I've just made up for my last visit,"
Her gaze darted to Penelope, who was holding her other hand, tears welling in her bright cerulean eyes.
The Lady kissed her daughter's forehead again.
"I'm so proud of you, Tara. And I'm sorry for not telling you that enough," she squeezed her hand, "You've become your own strong person, and I'm so proud of you for that,"
Tara gave her a small smile.
Maybe she could try. Maybe she could use this as a turning point.
"Thanks, Mum," she murmured. Penelope was positively beaming.