Greetings - I am back! Sooooooo sorry for not updating sooner, real-life decided to surround me for a while. But now I am back! And thanks for your wonderful reviews by the way! *waves at reviewers*
Well, I won't keep you any longer! Everyone comfortable? I am *grabs fluffy pillow*. Enjoy!
Drifting to conciousness was a painful business, he decided. It was much nicer in the warm darkness that wasunconsciousness. Something bright was shining directly into his eyes, and he winced, pulling back. The darkness threatened to overwhelm him again.
Actually - what had happened?
He'd been in '1 on a rescue, obviously. And then...oh.
He tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain explode in his chest.
"Sit down, please, sonny." The voice was kind, but Scott decided there was something about the person that he didn't like. Where were his brothers anyway...oh shit, now he remembered! Virgil had been shot as well - and was Alan okay? And what about John and Gordon?
There was an angry shout from the other side of the room, and then something flashed.
Scott blinked, to discover that made everything more painful. Oh, geez, he was certain he'd feel better if '2 had squashed him! At least...oh he couldn't be bothered to think about that. It hadn't happened, so there.
Now, he decided, he understood, why his brothers adamantly refused to go to hospital, preferring to wait for what was sometimes hours before they returned to base in Thunderbird 2.
Scott decided he preferred '2's sickbay.
Wow, he thought to himself, I really am ill. I mean, I never agree to go in '2's sickbay. Drifting closer towards the inviting darkness, he listened absent-mindedly to the doctors' conversation.
"Really?"
"Yeah, god only knows what they're doing. Apparently, there was one round here earlier."
"I wasn't aware of any rescues in the area?"
"No, neither was I! But, if you look out that window, you'll see that there's some red, blue and silver rocket in the sky."
'1 is not just some rocket, Scott thought angrily. Wait - what? Why are '1 and '2 still in the area?
"Jesus - you're right as well. Looks as if they're after the red rocket."
"Thought they were all part of the same organisation?"
"God knows. Maybe it's practise?"
"What for?"
"I dunno. I doubt they'd do it over a inhabited area though, in case something went wrong."
They're chasing '3? What the hell? Scott fought against the darkness, but it overwhelmed him.
What the hell is going on?
"Thunderbird 1 from Thunderbird 2, how are you reading me?"
"Strength Five."
"Good." John allowed himself to finally believe that he really had fixed the radio problem. "Have you got a visual on '3 yet?"
"No. Wait...yes, Fermat has."
"Okay, chase it."
"What?" Gordon stared at him. "What good is that going to do? They're not going to land, and you're mad if you think for a moment we can shoot it down!"
"I know," John sighed, and sat back in his seat. "But what else can I do? '1 has got the best chance of keeping '3 in sight - they must be about the same speed?"
"Ask Alan," Tin-Tin suggested. "He'd know everything about '3 and he's in '1, so you may as well."
John nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Okay, Alan - what's '3's top speed?"
"You know you had the radio on the whole time so that I could hear that entire conversation?"
"Whatever. What's the-"
"Speed? Well if I ask for clearance to fly side by side with '3, would that answer your question?"
"Yes. You have clearance as well, by the way."
"F.A.B."
"Johnny?"
"Huh?"
Gordon grinned. "You were miles away! Shall I put '2 to maximum speed?"
"F.A.B."
The green Thunderbird sped up.
"Um...John, I have a storm warning." Tin-Tin told him.
"That shouldn't affect us," Gordon frowned. "'2's been through a lot worse."
"Then why is it showing up on the weather radar?" John questioned him. Gordon shrugged, and looked away, clearly embarrassed. "How bad is it?"
"You might want to fly above the clouds, but that's only because you'll be using more engine power and there are quite a few tall buildings in the area." Tin-Tin reported. She frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Or, on second thoughts, you could divert from your current flight plan."
"No, we'll go above the clouds. It'll get us there quicker anyway." He pointed '2's nose towards the skies above and the Thunderbird emerged out into the clear air. Bright sunlight flooded the cabin, blinding them for a moment.
"Geez, that's bright!" He muttered.
Gordon blinked, shielding his eyes from the sun. The radio came to life, with a crackle of static.
"Thunderbird 2 from Thunderbird 1, we're under attack!"
"What?" Gordon gasped, leaping for the radio. "Who from?"
"From little green aliens in a UFO," Alan replied sarcastically. "From '3, you idiot!"
"They're firing on you?"
"Yes." Alan sounded distracted. "Huh?"
"We have to dive!" Fermat yelled.
"F.A.B."
"Attention - missiles. Impact imminent."
John jumped out of his seat as the warning blared through the cabin. How many sirens had he heard today? Must be about 5, by now...
"I have a visual!" Tin-Tin shouted. Gordon leant over her, trying to see the missile.
"We have to shoot it out the sky!" He told John.
John stared at him in disbelief. "Are you crazy? That'll never work."
"Try doing fancy manoeuvres in this big green bug! It's impossible!"
John glared at him. "Oh really?" He kicked Gordon back down into his seat and swung '2 onto her side, skimming past the missile.
"There's another one!" Tin-Tin warned.
"F.A.B." Gaining altitude, he couldn't help grinning slightly. When was the last time he'd flown like this? He knew, when Virgil and Scott were alone in their Thunderbirds, they did crazy acrobatics in the air, and Alan had done some pretty strange manoeuvres in '3. Even Gordon had done some mad things in '4. But it was impossible to do anything in '5. Unless he wanted to kill himself. Which he didn't.
"That's not a missile! And it's not heading for us!" Gordon yelled, realising what the object was a fraction of a second too late. The object was a cylinder but it was some sort of bomb.
One moment, John was in the chair, trying to gain altitude, far quicker than was actually possible and then the next moment, he was flying through the air, and then he smashed into the wall.
There was a blinding flash of light, and he blinked. Oh shit - he couldn't see. Fighting against the fear, he reached out, trying to grab something, anything, to stop himself sliding straight into the control panel.
His fingers closed round something, and he gathered it was probably a door handle or something. Oh well - at least he could stand upright.
"Spoke too soon," he muttered, as he collapsed onto the ground again. He closed his eyes once more and then opened them again. Oh good - he could see! Pausing, just in time to stop a childish squeak of excitement escaping him at being able to see again, he spotted the ground. Which was coming very close. He scrambled for the chair, realising he wasn't going to reach it in time. Hi vision blurred, and he tried to blink again, to clear it.
Gathering his strength, he leapt for the controls, at the same time as Tin-Tin. Another explosion rocked the Thunderbird, and they were thrown to the ceiling as Thunderbird 2 rolled upside down, still in a steep dive.
"Prepare for impact!" He yelled at Tin-Tin, just as someone/something launched them-self at the controls, yanking at them, and pulling the green Thunderbird out of her dive, aiming for the skies, and flying on her side, dodging smaller explosions and then aiming straight for a clear patch of sky, visible between pitch black clouds, swirling round.
"Tornado!"
Gordon, John realised, (why hadn't he figured that out earlier?) shrugged and continued flying, at the last minute, flipping '2 into a position that almost made her stall, and then putting on top speed, practically frying the engines.
"Sunlight! I love sunlight!" He grinned as they emerged into clear skies and Gordon straightened out the Thunderbird's flight path.
"Wow," The aquanaut murmured, and then rested his head on his arms. "Just wow. That's not something I want to attempt everyday."
John, finally managing to rid himself of the dizzy feeling, clambered into the seat next to him, and offering Tin-Tin his hand. She flashed him a grateful; glance as she slid into the third seat.
"Well..." John exclaimed. "Awesome flying, bro."
Gordon grinned. "I know right? But I think I'll leave it to Scooter, Virge and the Sprout next time." He high-fived John, and frowned at the radar. He laughed. "Alan's got the right idea."
"Huh?" John, leaned forwards and peered at the radar. There was no sign of '1 on there. "Has he crashed?" He gasped, in horror.
Gordon gave him a concerned glance. "How many times have you hit your head today?" He pretended to check John was okay, putting on a mock concerned expression. John knocked his hand away, secretly glad to have the old Gordon back. It was good to have the Thunderbird 4 pilot making jokes again.
"No, I settled for being thrown through the air instead," he joked. "No, I'm guessing he's turned off the GPS?"
Gordon nodded, adjusting '2's course slightly. "On course to I.R. Thunderbird 1."
"F.A.B. Thunderbird 2."
Gordon grinned. "Well...they're okay."
"And we're good."
"So I guess...Thunderbirds are go again!"
Unable to help himself, Gordon spun '2 upside down again and then back up the right way again. John let out a loud whoop and Tin-Tin shook her head in mock esaperation.
"It's meant to be Gordon who's the five-year-old, not you, John!"
"Ah, well,you know, being thrown the air for about the...third time today, has that maddening effect on people!"
"You've been infected with the Gordon-Disease," Fermat laughed through the radio. "And so have I!"
"What do you mean?" A cautious question came from Alan. Fermat gave an evil chuckle. A moment later, an outraged cry came from Alan.
"Fermat!"
"What?"
"I'm...I'm..."
"You're what?"
"I'm pink!" Alan gave an outraged cry.
"I know, I was the one who threw paint over you!"
"John!" A yell of happiness came from Tin-Tin. She held up her watch, pointing to Penelope who was speaking.
"Ah, John, dear, I thought you would like to know that Scott and Virgil are going to be okay. They're unconscious, but the doctors say that they will make a full recovery."
Gordon whooped, and spun '2 upside down again.
"Stop doing that - you're going to stall!" Tin-Tin snapped, but she was grinning.
"Thunderbirds are go!" Gordon announced. "Ready Alan?"
"F.A.B."
"What?" John, Tin-Tin and Fermat asked at the same time. Gordon winked at them, and down in '1, Alan grinned evilly at Fermat.
Gordon put '2 at top-speed. Loosing altitude so that wisps of cloud rose up around '2, he leaned towards the radio.
"Bug in position."
"Virge won't be happy to hear you calling '2 that," John chuckled.
"Who cares, space-case?" Gordon gave a care-free shrug.
"What did you call me?" John growled.
"Space-case," Gordon replied cheerfully, unaware he'd just signed his death-sentence. John leaned forwards to annoy his brother when '1 came spiralling into view. Alan did loop-the-loop before flying side-by-side with '2.
"Hi!" Alan yelled through the radio. Unfortunately, the radio was on speaker, and Alan's yell was magnified.
"Oops, sorry," Gordon grinned wickedly. "I must have forgotten to turn that down!"
"Yeah, right," John ruffled Gordon's hair. "You'd planned that, fish."
Gordon shrugged and saluted Alan. At the same time, the two thunderbirds gained altitude before diving and the leveling out, whilst '1 spiralled round '2 twice before flying beside them again.
"Hang on," John announced. "What about '3?"
"If you can somehow get into the systems, then I can fly it from base."
"But what about the-oh." Gordon started laughing as John trailed off.
"I think I know my own access codes, Johnny."
"Yeah, you know everyone else' as well!" Gordon announced. "What? He does. I helped him."
"God help us, the terrible two know all the access codes," John shook his head in mock despair. "We're doomed."
"Approaching Tracy Island." Tin-Tin announced. She glanced at Gordon who was slowing down and getting ready for landing. "Um...not meaning to sound stupid, but shouldn't we check...to see if anyone's there?"
"Everyone would have gone after Dad," Alan replied.
"Yeah...I guess..." Tin-Tin still looked uneasy.
"Drop me off," John told Gordon.
"What?" Gordon stared at him.
"Just in case. And if you're right, and everyone's left, then why would I be in any danger?"
Gordon frowned, and shifted in his chair. "But..."
John was heading for the pod. "I'll be fine!" He yelled over his shoulder.
As John stepped into the sunlight, he frowned. It was strange seeing Tracy Island deserted, as it was usually so noisy. He strolled through the rooms, checking the hangers, and stopped, seeing the empty Pod 4. Where was '4? He'd ask Dad later.
"Tracy Island is free of any intruders. I'm taking control, so wait for a moment, and I'll have '2's hanger open and ready for you." He paused. "Same goes for '1."
"F.A.B."
He put his hand on the finger-print recognition system, trying to remember when he'd last done this. Must have during training, he decided. "Okay, '1, you are clear for landing. Standby, Thunderbird 2."
He reached out for the correct button, when he remembered something. "Gordon, what's Virgil's access codes?"
"Why do you need them?"
"To be able to open '2's hanger."
"Thought you could do that anyway?"
"If I was Dad, or Brains, or even Scott then yes, but we can't."
"Why can they?"
"Well, Brains can, because he designed it, Dad because he's in charge and Scott because he's field commander. Duh."
"Okay. Um...well I might have been exaggerating when I said I knew all of the access codes."
"I know it," John glanced up as Alan and Fermat jogged into the room. Fermat motioned towards the access codes. "I know it," he repeated. As John moved over to let him type it in, Alan stared at his friend in amazement.
"How do you know that? Virge changed them all!"
"Dad," Fermat replied without looking up.
"Ah."
"Okay, that's done."
"Thanks, Fermat," John opened the hanger doors. "Okay, Thunderbird 2, you are clear for landing."
"Starting final approach,"
John tapped his foot impatiently until Alan smacked his knee with a rolled up newspaper that lay on the table.
"What?"
"It's annoying," Alan muttered.
"Good job, you're not stuck up on '5 with me then," John grinned. "I do it all the time. You'd go crazy."
"Thunderbird '2 down."
"F.A.B."
"Right, ready to take control of '3 again, Alan?"
Alan clenched his fists.
"I want to throw them off my Thunderbird and never let them get their filthy hands near her again."
"Oh, what pleasant thoughts," Gordon announced. "And when we have women present. Tut, tut, Alan!"
Tin-Tin and Alan glared at him and he shrugged, heading outside.
"Where're you going?" John called after him.
"Checking if the pool's okay!" The reply came back accompanied with a splash.
John shook his head. "Only Gordo would do that."
"Right - let's get '3 back."
See - I promised I would be kind! And I was *smiles*. Sorry about the bit about Alan and Gordon showing off in Thunderbirds 2 and 1. I was in a flying mood - I've persuaded my Grandma that my dream job of being a pilot, is actually a good job! I think she took it okay *fingers crossed* but I don't know...
So yeah. Sorry once again, for not updating sooner. But, hopefully, this week is going to be great (stuff going at High-School) so I'll be in a very good mood and update earlier. Or I might be in a bad mood and update anyway, leaving you on an evil cliffie! Nah - I'm not that mean...:)
Review?
Kat x.