Chapter 9: Back in the Saddle
It was the first mission since Virgil and Scott had been allowed back into the field, and it hadn't gone well. First, there was equipment failure in the Mole. Just as Brains had finished apologizing for that, an electrical storm had sprung up, temporarily cutting off communications. Just as Jeff was about to go out of his mind with worry, they had gotten through, assuring him they were ok, and it was just a bit of lightning, so lighten up, Dad.
Now, someone had just shot Thunderbird 4. Virgil had heard the impact over the radio. That was followed by silence. He could hear Scott's voice from mobile control, growing more and more frantic. "Gordon, Gordon! Come in, Thunderbird 4!"
Virgil continued to pilot the Mole deeper, mindful of the fact that no amount of worrying about Gordon would give him the ability to help. For one thing, the Mole was very deep, and it would take at least ten minutes to back out. For another thing, even if he could get out, neither the Mole nor Thunderbird 2 was a submersible, so they couldn't go down and help. On the other hand, he could put on Scuba gear and go look…
"I-I'm here," came Gordon's voice, choking off that line of thought and flooding Virgil with relief. "I'm taking on water, but it's not too bad."
"Get back up to the surface, Gordon," Scott said, sounding as relieved as Virgil was.
"But whoever shot me is still down here," Gordon pointed out. "I hate to let him get away."
"Gordon, get back to the surface," Scott reiterated, and it wasn't a request.
Virgil gave it a few moments to make sure that conversation was finished, then hailed, "Mole to mobile control and Thunderbird 4."
"Go ahead, Virgil," Scott said.
"I've reached the bottom of the shaft," Virgil said, cutting power to the drill. "Gordon, were you able to seal the water intakes before you got shot?"
"Yeah, Virgil," Gordon affirmed. "You're good to go."
"Proceed, Virgil," Scott said unnecessarily. Virgil started the drill again and pushed through into the shaft, then pulled back a few yards and took it in again about six feet to the left. That should give him a nice tunnel with a gap on the side big enough to exit out the side door. The design of the Mole didn't make underground rescues easy, he reflected as he opened the door, only possible.
He stepped out of the Mole and was immediately hit by a burst of claustrophobia. He stopped and gripped the edge of the door, waiting for it to pass. He was about thirty feet below the surface, in a fairly stable area with hard-packed earth. He was standing in about a foot of water, where it had washed in from the flooded mine shaft into the tunnel he had made. A cave-in was possible, but unlikely. He wasn't trapped. He took a few deep breaths and started forward , peering though the hole he had just made and into the shaft. "Hello? This is International Rescue. Is everybody ok?" He flashed his light around and was relieved to see all four miners present and accounted for, wearing the breathing apparatuses lowered to them earlier and pushing their way out from under the layer of debris that had so recently made the lid of their impromptu coffin. Virgil reached in and helped them out one by one, then led them to the Mole. He breathed a mental sigh as soon as they were in and the door was closed. Even a cave-in wouldn't harm the Mole. He felt a little like he was in a tank right now. He liked that feeling. "Mole to mobile control," he said.
"Go ahead," Scott returned.
"Mission successful," Virgil replied cheerfully. "Returning to surface."
"F.A.B., Virgil. Good job."
Virgil turned to his passengers, who were removing the breathing apparatuses and trying to scrub the mud off their faces. "Towels in the back of my seat, folks. We're just going to back out now, and we'll be on the surface in no time."
"Thank God for International Rescue," one of the miners said in heartfelt tones. The others muttered agreement. Virgil grinned at them, then piloted them up out of the ground, still grinning. It felt good to be back.
He felt a little less good when the reached the surface. Thunderbird 4 had been beached, and it was actually badly damaged, not the minor injury that Gordon's comments had led him to believe. The missile had crumpled one side and torn a chunk out. From this gash water was still trickling. Gordon had clearly been understating the case when he said he was only taking on a little water. His fears were confirmed when he saw his brother, who had gone over to mobile control and was now talking to Scott. Gordon was soaked from head to toe. In addition to that, his sleeve was red with blood.
"Gordon!" Virgil exclaimed, hurrying over.
Scott was wrapping a bandage around their baby brother's arm. "It looks worse than it is," he told him. But he could see that Scott was concerned as well.
Gordon, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the concern the wound warranted. He grinned at Virgil, although his eyes were a little tight from pain. "Hey, Virgil. Brains is gonna kill me for getting Thunderbird 4 all shot up."
"Who would shoot at a Thunderbird vehicle?" Virgil demanded.
"I'm guessing the same whack job who shot at it before," Scott said. "You know, the guy who's been after us since the beginning and has apparently decided he's our arch enemy?"
"I don't get why International Rescue would have enemies," Virgil grumbled. Their job was hard enough without people taking pot shots at his brothers. "How's the arm, Gordon?"
"It's just a gash," Gordon said, displaying his newly-bandaged arm for Virgil to approve. "I've had worse."
Virgil almost asked when, then remembered the trouble his younger brothers had gotten into as children, and how often they had ended up bleeding all over the kitchen floor. "True," he conceded.
"I think we're pretty much set here," Scott said. "Virgil, want to give Gordon a hand loading Thunderbird 4?"
"I can do it," Gordon protested.
"Come on," Virgil said, tugging his brother towards the vehicles. "It doesn't look particularly capable of moving across land right now. What are you going to do, carry it? Let's winch it into the pod."
Gordon glumly agreed and they did that, after which Virgil drove in the Mole while Gordon got ready for take-off. As Virgil was lowering his ship onto the pod, he heard Scott radio their father and report the successful mission and their immanent return to base. "How did it go?" their father asked.
"We got the miners out," Scott said. "They'll be fine."
"That's good. Good job, boys," their father said.
"Thunderbird 4 took some damage, though," Scott added.
Gordon groaned theatrically. "Great. Now they're going to be all worried for the hour it takes us to get home!"
Virgil gave him a look of brotherly tolerance. "Scott's just being thorough. He probably wants Father to sic Lady Penelope on the guy who attacked you."
"How much damage?" their father demanded. "And is Gordon ok?"
"I'm fine!" Gordon exclaimed, reaching past Virgil and activating the communication button.
Virgil swatted his hand away. "Hey! I'm trying to take off here!"
"He's a little wet, and has a gash on his arm. But as you probably heard, it hasn't dampened his spirits, as it were," Scott said.
"Ok," their father said. "Gordon, what can you tell me about your attacker?"
"It was a small sub," Gordon said, leaning over Virgil again. "I didn't see any country identification, but I didn't get a good look, either. It fired one missile and then headed off to the North, going really fast."
"Alright, Gordon. I'll see if Lady Penelope can do anything about tracking the person who attacked you, and I'll see you all back here soon." With that their father severed the connection.
"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 1," Scott said.
"Reading you loud and clear," Virgil said. As if he wouldn't be, considering they had been talking just seconds ago.
"I'm going to take a few minutes to wrap things up here and make sure the miners get off safely," Scott said. "You guys go ahead and head back. I'll catch up."
"F.A.B., Scott," Virgil said, and took off.
They arrived home an hour later, and were greeted in the Thunderbird 2 bay by Alan, Tin-Tin, and Jennifer Lowry—all of whom rushed over to inspect Gordon—and Brains, who rushed over to inspect Thunderbird 4. "I can't let you boys out of my sight for one minute, can I?" Jennifer said crossly, critically inspecting Gordon's arm.
"I'm fine," he protested.
"I will hit the next Tracy who tells me that right in the lying mouth," she informed him, gently but firmly leading him in the direction of Tracy Island's brand-new medical wing. "You will probably need stitches. You are getting a tetanus shot. I suspect I should put you on antibiotics…" her voice trailed away as she led him away, followed by Alan and Tin-Tin.
"I'm glad Father changed his mind about her," Scott commented, coming to stand beside Virgil. He had apparently wandered over from where he had just arrived in Thunderbird 1. Probably wanted to make sure Gordon was really ok.
"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "It's really good to have a doctor as part of the team."
"Especially a world-class surgeon," Scott said. They started walking. "How—" Scott started, then broke off, looking chagrined. "Sorry. I promised."
Virgil smiled over at him. "I'm fine, Scott," he said, and meant it. "We did good today."
Scott smiled back at him. "Yes. Yes we did."
oOo
A/N: Aaand that's all, folks! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I really appreciated all the kind words. I'm glad people seemed to like Jennifer. I don't normally like original characters, but she sort of wrote herself into it. I kind of imagine her as a 'mother hen' sort of character, looking after all the Tracy brothers, putting them back together after missions, etc. And yes, I know this is a very short chapter, but it's really just meant as an epilogue.
