"Now that is something I never expected to see."
Virgil gave a lopsided smile as Matthew looked down at himself, resplendent in his brand new uniform. The twins were sitting in the jump seats behind the pilot's chair of Thunderbird Two.
"Now remember boys, you're only along to observe," Virgil said.
"Or maybe bandage some boo-boos," Gordon quipped. He was sitting on the other side of the cockpit.
Elijah shrugged. Matthew smiled and gave a mock salute.
"F.A.G.," he said. "Isn't that it?"
Gordon snorted so loud he choked himself. Virgil closed his eyes and cringed. Elijah's eyes widened and he punched his brother in the ribs. Hard.
"It's F.A.B., ya eejit," he said. "What you said is something very offensive."
"What?"
"Think about it."
It took Matthew a second to comprehend. When he did, his face burned as red as his new IR sash.
"Ooooooh, sorry," he said. "My bad."
"Base from Thunderbird Two," Virgil said, glossing over the slip-up as the rest of his crew started to laugh – or at least Gordon and Matthew. "We're about to take off."
Jeff's voice rang through the comm; he sounded disgruntled.
"Why is there so much laughter in there? This isn't a game, you know."
"Yes, Father," he said, shooting Gordon a glare. The red-head did his best to bring his mirth under control. "We had a slight...technical difficulty, but it's been resolved."
"Technical difficulty?" Jeff asked, "Is this something I should be concerned about?"
"No, Father," Virgil replied. "I'll explain later."
"All right... If you say so. Good luck, boys."
"F.A.B."
Virgil manoeuvred the great craft onto the runway. The palm trees bent back and within moments they were shooting up into the darkening sky. A storm was moving in. When they lifted off, he chuckled as he heard the twin exclamations of 'whoa' from behind him.
"Impressive, isn't she?" he said.
"Not half," Matthew said.
"She's a big green behemoth," Gordon said, "but as reliable as they come. Though perhaps not as good as a certain other craft."
"That yellow submarine?" Virgil said. His mouth slid into a smirk. "Why, it's nothing more than a glorified pod vehicle."
There was a beat of silence.
"Oh, you did not," Gordon said. "You did not just say that. You'll pay for that, Tracy!"
Virgil shrugged. Matthew spoke in a stage whisper. Virgil looked over his shoulder to see him leaning over, his mouth as his brother's ear.
"Mental note. Don't insult the submarine."
"He won't," Gordon said. "He's going to be my underwater buddy. Isn't that right, Silent Bob?"
Elijah nodded.
"Yup."
Virgil adjusted his heading by point two degrees. They were en route to a sinking ocean tanker in the mid-Atlantic. If its contents spilled, the world would be looking at an environmental disaster the likes of which it hadn't experienced since the early twenty-first century.
"Don't tease the kid," Virgil said. "Not everyone feels the need to be as much of a blabber mouth as you."
"Kid?" Gordon asked. "How old are you two anyway?"
"Twenty-seven," Matthew said.
"Which one's older?"
"I am," Elijah said. "By two minutes."
"And he never lets me forget it!" Matthew said.
"That's right, little brother."
~oOo~
Virgil had to hand it to them; the Lynch brothers did exactly as they were told. They stood back, observed, didn't meddle. Looks like Dad was right about these two, he thought. They hovered at his shoulder, watching his every move as he manipulated the controls of Thunderbird Two. They had watched, amazed, when the pod dropped and Thunderbird Four emerged.
"Thunderbirds Two and One from Thunderbird Four," Gordon said. "Am making my way to the damaged section now."
"F.A.B., Thunderbird Four." Scott's authoritative tone rang out through the cockpit. "Thunderbird Two, I've been in contact with the crew. They've made their way to the emergency capsule and are preparing to deploy. At the rate the ship is taking on water, there's no way we'll be able to save it. Once Gordon secures the chemical leak, we'll have to let it go."
"Right, Scott," Virgil said. "Thunderbird Four can tow the capsule into the pod and I'll retrieve them together."
The comm clicked off and Virgil turned to glance at the brothers.
"Very slick," Matthew said.
"Isn't there any way to buoy up the ship?" Elijah asked. "It seems dangerous to leave it submerged."
"Our priority is to stop the immediate disaster and rescue the crew," Virgil said. "The ship's owners can come in and retrieve it. It's their responsibility."
Elijah nodded.
"True," he said.
It didn't take long for Gordon to patch up the hull damage. The tanker stopped taking on water, though was now listing at a steep angle.
"Piece of cake," he said. "I'm going to collect the capsule now and tow it in. Prepare for retrieval, Thunderbird Two."
"F.A.B.," Virgil said. "Another rescue successfully completed."
"I'll call it in," Scott said. "See you back at base. How did our new recruits cope?"
"Just fine, Scott. Just fine."
~oOo~
Back on Tracy Island, Jeff smiled when his first born called to inform him that the danger had been resolved. It was mid-morning. The sky was grey as a storm passed by; it had been brewing since the boys' departure. Thankfully, the island had been spared from the worst of the weather.
John appeared in the lounge, trailing a wheeled suitcase.
"It's about that time, Father," he said. "I wish I'd been able to say goodbye to the boys in person. Tell them to behave for me, will you?"
Jeff went to his son's side.
"Will do," he said. "I'll walk with you to the hangar."
John was to take Tracy Two, one of the family's small private planes, and fly to Sydney. They had planned for Virgil to co-pilot and bring the jet back, but at the last minute they had been forced to book a hangar at Sydney Airport. Tin-Tin has offered to co-pilot, but Jeff and Kyrano had not entertained the idea.
"I'm pregnant, not an invalid," she had said.
However, there was nothing she could do to overcome the combined weight of two grandfathers-to-be, so she had been forced to admit defeat.
As he stowed his gear, John looked up at the Cliff House. There were three figures waving from the balcony: Tin-Tin, Grandma and Brains. He gave them a cheerful wave back before turning to his father.
"Passport?" Jeff asked.
"Check."
"Ticket?"
"Got it on my cell."
"So you've got your cell phone then. Good. Lecture notes?"
"Dad, I have everything I need."
Jeff grunted and crossed his arms. John pushed his blond cowlick from his eyes and leaned against the plane's fuselage.
"It's cool, Dad. Everything is in hand."
"The boys are on their way back," Jeff said. "Maybe I should co-pilot for you."
"Dad," John said, standing straight again. "I'm a big boy, I stopped needing my hand held about twenty five years ago."
Jeff uncrossed his arms and pulled his son in for a brief hug.
"You never wanted your hand holding," he said. "Stay safe and call in when you arrive in Sydney."
"Will do. And I won't talk to strangers or accept any candy."
Jeff shook his head but still smiled. The two men bid each other farewell and Jeff stood back as his son performed pre-flight checks. Within minutes, Tracy Two was streaking off into the dark sky and was enveloped by clouds.
"Good luck, son," Jeff said.
The plane was long gone from sight by the time he stopped staring. As he turned to walk back to the villa, thick drops of rain began to fall.
