Thunderbirds Are Go!

The Stories Between.

Disclaimer: A collection of my early one shots set in the TAG world. All are strictly non canon.

Rescuing the Rescuer

This story really is a depressing one to start with, but it ended in a chain of events that would inspire me to keep doing my job with pride. My name is Alfred, but everybody tends to call me Al because you know... Alfred makes me sound like a clapped out old man. My life was a bit of a wreck when this story began. Back then, I was struggling to make ends meet as an out of hours paramedic. Now just to clarify, I've had a track record of being a failure. I got married too soon which then ended up in a quick divorce, I lost my house in the settlement which wound me up with a small run-down apartment. My financial problems clung to my soul like a monkey on my back. The only thing I was good at was saving lives. It was all I had.

One night, I was taking my usual route along a stretch of road in Oxfordshire. I had just been out on a call to check in on a patient who had slipped in the bathtub. It was nothing too serious which meant that the long drive out there wasn't really worth it. That's not really the attitude to have in a job like this I know, but I was just so... stressed. Lost in my own thoughts, I caught a flash of light out of the corner of my eyes. It was only for a split second, but it was long enough to draw my attention away from the road. Pulling over, I rolled down my windows to see if my ears could pick up on anything. There was a sound in the air. A Sound that I never heard in my life before. It was a loud, sonic whooshing sound as if a fighter jet had just flown over, only it was much lower in pitch and tone. It grew louder indicating that whatever it was was about pas overhead. I looked up at the sky and my jaw dropped over. There was a strange looking aircraft up there and it was on fire! Searing flames and thick black smoke poured out of its engines. It's cockpit lights flickered. It was going to hit the countryside at any moment. Before it could disappear into the dark horizon, I caught the small shape of a person ejecting into the sky.

"That must have been the pilot." I thought as I reached over to grab my transmitter. "This Al 9341 calling base. I've just witnessed an Air crash. The pilot ejected and may need medical attention. I'm going over to investigate."

"Roger, Al9431. We'll have a bed standing by at the Hospital." The radio dispatcher acknowledged.

Using a rough bearing of where the pilot might have landed, I turned off the road, cutting through the neighboring fields. A fireball erupted in the distance. The aircraft must have struck the ground. After several minutes of driving and guess working, The remains of a tattered parachute appeared in the beam of my headlights. I got out to investigate with a flashlight. It didn't take me long to spot traces of blood on the ground. I grabbed a medical kit from my truck expecting to see a grim sight in the next field. The pilot must have managed to walk a little. He left quite a bloody trail for me to follow. There he was, slumped up against the side of a boulder, clutching a blood-soaked rib cage. Shining my light on him, I was able to get a good look at the guy. He was just... a kid. He had to be in his early Twenties at least. He was wearing a blue utility suit of some kind, holding a green harness over his shoulder. He looked at me with his a washed out look on his face. His lip was bleeding, his left eye was swollen. His face was stained with dirt and smoke.

While partially conscious, he stumbled towards me before falling. I leaped forward to catch him as he began to gargle something towards me.

"H...Help. Thunderbird...Thunderbird..."

"Easy, Easy there fella," I replied softly. "You're in a bad way at the moment. Everything's going to be alright."

The young fella continued to spit out blood as I began to bandage his rib cage. It was only a temporary solution which I hoped would reduce the loss of blood until I could get him to the Hospital. I used all of my weight to get him back to my truck. He kept slipping in and out of consciousness all the while I carried him. I really didn't want him to die on me.

Gently laying him on the back seat of my truck, I climbed in and steered towards the hospital with my sirens whaling. To my surprise, the guy began to regain consciousness just enough to talk to me.

"Who... are you?" He asked.

"I'm a paramedic with the London National Medical Team," I replied bluntly. "I was just passing by when I witnessed your crash. You're very a lucky guy."

"I... I guess so." He coughed. "What's your... name?"

For some reason, I found it hard to reply, but I needed to keep him talking. "I'm Alfred, but people call me Al. What's yours?"

"Virgil... I'm... I'm Virgil. Virgil Tracy." He replied.

"Nice to meet you. Where are you from? What do you do?"

I was not prepared for what he had to say next. Seriously, I couldn't work out if it was irony or fate or god knows what.

"I'm from International... Rescue. You know... massive machines... little pod vehicles saving the world from bad... bad guys."

"Wait a second? International Rescue, I've heard about you guys! It makes sense now when you said Thunderbird earlier in the field."

"I know. Ironic huh?" He said as he winced at his pain.

"But I don't understand? What happened? Why did you crash?"

He began to whisper as he attempted to explain his situation. I guess he couldn't get his head together. I mean talk about asking an in-depth question to a severely concussed man!

"It all happened so fast." He whispered as he began to pass out. "I just... I just..."

I didn't like this at all. "Virgil? Come on Virgil stay with me now!? We're almost at the hospital."

The welcoming lights of the town greeted us as I pulled up to emergency wing of the hospital. Three attendants along with a doctor waited outside with a gurney. They gently lifted the unconscious International Rescue pilot onto the thing and wheeled him straight to casualty. I followed but was then told that I could not go inside. Well, that was my own fault really. Casualty wasn't my department. I just wanted to help. As I sat there in the staff room, a call came over the intercom. It was my boss. I was ordered to write a complete report of the situation and what had happened. I never had to write one of these classified reports before. I certainly didn't know why I had to fill one out now.

As soon as I signed the document, he told me to wait in the on-call room. For the next few hours, I would hear nothing else about young Virgil and his condition.

It was now One in the morning and I just sat there in the now isolated on-call room. I was exhausted, I should have just called it a night but I just couldn't go home. This whole thing had triggered my mental state like an engine had been revved up to the max. I just had to know what was being kept from me? What wasn't I supposed to know? It's enough to make you rate yourself as a zero. I was a well-established one already so I don't know why this occasion felt different. I stared into my almost empty coffee cup, trying to theorize everything. I never really knew much about International Rescue, but with the work that they do and the lives that they save, you can't really help but idolize them. They certainly meant a lot to the world. I didn't even matter to my own town. I even told myself that I wouldn't even get thanks or some sort of recognition for my assistance. At that point, I didn't know where I wanted to be.

The doors opened behind me breaking my thoughts. Another man came over to greet me. Just looking at him, I could see that he was here to see the patient. He wore a matching blue utility suit only his harness was a shimmering grey colour.

"Are you Alfred?" He asked as he gestured a handshake. "The man who found my brother?"

"Brother?" I thought as I accepted the gesture. "Yeah I'm him... and you are?"

"I'm Scott Tracy from International Rescue." He said with a smile. "I'm the one who had your boss make you fill in a classified document. I'm sorry about that, but we had to make sure that the crash you witnessed remained top secret. It's a long story which I won't bother you with, but I just wanted to say thank you for saving my brother's life. We're very grateful to you."

I don't take gratitude very well. I rarely even receive it.

"How is he doing?" I asked.

"He's received a few fractured ribs and swelling to his eye but he'll make a full recovery at our base," Scott replied. "I know he would like to say thank you himself, but he's still unconscious. You're his hero."

I sighed and sat back down. "I'm no hero. I'm just a deadbeat paramedic who happened to be at the right place at the right time. I wouldn't have found him properly if I didn't use my brains. A lot of the time, I just deal with false alarms. No, it's you guys who are the real heroes. I mean, you put your lives on the line constantly to save those who need help. It takes courage to do what you do. I don't have it."

Scott sat down next to me and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Al, you couldn't be more wrong." He said. "You know, sometimes I forget that you all risk yourselves too. I mean sure, we have our machines and our technology to help but at the end of the day, we're just as human and mortal as everyone else. Today showed that even the rescuers need rescuing and when that happens, you will be right out there fighting to save our lives. Virgil made it out okay but it could have easily been a lot worse. In my book, that makes you the true hero. All it comes down to how you value your job and yourself as a person. Don't think of yourself as Al the deadbeat graveyard paramedic. Think of yourself as Al, the man who saved Virgil Tracy of Thunderbird Two,"

His speech left me with some things to think about as he waved me goodbye. Suddenly, I was able to rethink the way valued myself. Okay stop right there, I'm not going to end this story with cliches and cheesy lines. I just had a shift of perspective from International Rescue. Enough to help me get out of this rut. Before I could think about the possibilities, Scott looked back at me and said one last thing;

"Oh and one more thing, I convinced your boss of giving you a promotion. You deserve it. Take care, Al."

Did he just say a promotion? A PROMOTION!? Does he even have the authority to do that? Pfft.. who cares. I'm Al, the paramedic who saved Virgil Tracy of Thunderbird Two, It's a bit of a long title but I can make it work.

END