Slightly shorter chapter this time - the cat's yowling to be let in so I have to go.
"Thunderbird 5 to Tracy Island. Come in please." Scott tapped his fingers impatiently on the radio, waiting for the reply.
"You're really going to go down there?" Tin-Tin spoke up, although she wasn't really surprised. From the moment John had radioed in and had more or less implied that he wanted her to leave the two of them to talk in private she'd known something was wrong. All that she'd been told since was that John was about to make a big mistake and therefore Scott was going to return to Tracy Island, and then fly out to Bermuda.
"Yep," he agreed, shooting the radio a frown. "Oh come on Alan, what are you playing at? The one time you're not monitoring the radio like it's the last life source in the entire blooming universe."
Tin-Tin laughed, wrapping her arms round her knees as she leans back against the wall, gazing out at the planet below. It never failed to amaze her just how beautiful the Earth looked from the satellite. "So, am I ever going to hear what exactly this big mistake of John's is, or shall I torture Alan until he confides in me?"
Scott gave her an alarmed look. "Torture?"
"Yes," Tin-Tin grinned. After all, no one needed to know that the torture consisted of throwing the last chocolate bar in the bin in front of the youngest Tracy. That wouldn't seem quite as dramatic when put into words, but the word Alan whined afterwards made it all too much fun, and on many occasion Tin-Tin had threatened him with it when she'd wanted to find out information.
"I don't really have time to explain." He sighed, tapping his fingers on the edge of the control panel yet again, his gaze flickering back to the red light in the radio, signalling the person on the receiving end had not yet received the call.
"Yes you do." Tin-Tin let out an exasperated sigh, leaping to her feet and leaning against the airlock door as the radio flashed green.
"Hey Dad. Okay, it's the end of my rotor on Thunderbird 5, and therefore I'm coming back down dirt-side. Just to alert you to Thunderbird 3 landing."
"Slow down, and repeat what you just said," Jeff told him firmly, glancing over his shoulder to where Brains appeared to be disappearing under the Mole, muttering something about water damaging the electronic signal of heat sensors and drilling equipment.
"I'm coming home."
Jeff sighed, meeting his eldest son's gaze squarely. "You've spoken to John then?"
"Yes. I'm not letting him do this!"
"I agree you can come home, but I'm not allowing you to go out to Bermuda."
"What?" Tin-Tin was considering getting the fire fighting equipment reading with the scorching look Scott was now giving Jeff, and therefore the screen of the radio. In Thunderbird 3's hanger, Natasha was also considering that option.
"Because I can't guarantee you won't do anything rash to stop John from going on that sub and I can't have another one of you in trouble. Now are we clear to try and find out what's happened to the rest of the hangers and the house?" Jeff tactically changed the subject, avoiding the furious glare that was fixed on him. Natasha shifted closer to the fire-fighting equipment, only to stop at a warning glance from Brains.
"Yes. The sea levels are steadily falling again back to normal and the hurricane's moving away. You're still going to have strong winds to contend with, but nothing too serious." Scott frowned as Jeff nodded thoughtfully and went to end the video call. "Dad? Can I come down then?"
Jeff looked straight at him, trying to determine the best course of action. He knew full well that his son was going to disobey his orders about not going to Bermuda and would no doubt rope Virgil into somehow picking him up, but then again he had to weigh that up against the risk of him destroying something on Thunderbird 5 by accident when trying to help or track the sub John would be on, although they already knew that would be impossible. "Yes." Jeff gave a small smile. "As if you were going to listen if I said no."
"Probably not," Scott agreed, his fingers hovering over the 'end call' button in anticipation of heading towards Thunderbird 3. "See you Tin-Tin!"
"Good luck," She called over to him as she settled down on the chair, monitoring the flashing lights that surrounded her.
"What for?" He looked genuinely confused, pausing in the door way as he tried to figure out why she was wishing him luck.
"For Bermuda." She smiled, shaking her head as the door slid shut behind him. "And for however you're going to stop John." She added quietly afterwards, leaning back in the seat and sighing. The sooner the entire nightmare was over the better. She didn't think she could cope with much more stress.
A pink light flashed on the vid-link screen and she smiled. Finally a friend who was going to have some actual information. She tapped the holograph to connect the audio-link.
"Penelope. How are you?"
Her English friend smiled, an expression of great concern drifting across her features despite her best intentions otherwise. She leaned forwards to whisper something to Parker, before returning her gaze to the vid-screen. "I'm fine, and so is Parker. But I have some information that only the few locals around here know about."
"A local?" Tin-Tin raised her eyebrows, examining some chipped nail-polish as she waited for her friend to reply.
"Alright, a fisherman. A friend of a friend of a friend of Parker's or something apparently."
There was an indignant cough in the background, and then Parker muttered something under his breath to Penelope, who laughed.
"Oh of course, I am so sorry to forget that particular incident that put you in touch with this particular fellow." She smiled, returning her attention to Tin-Tin who'd just confirmed with the AI that Thunderbird 3 was entering Earth's atmosphere. "Anyway, a fisherman, who used to dabble in the black market told me that he knows a group of people who meet in a supposedly abandoned block of flats on the North Coast. One of them is speaks fluent Russian, and she's a trained assassin, credited with the deaths of over one-hundred people. She's wanted in several different countries, but for some reason she has a particular grudge against International Rescue."
Tin-Tin frowned, trying to recall the last rescue in the area. "Why?"
Penelope shrugged. "I'm not sure," She admitted. "I just thought I should fill you in before I check it out further. Tell Jeff that I think his communications aren't working properly, because I can't reach him, but I was just calling his mobile to say that Agent 9 has been an amazing help."
"See you soon then," Tin-Tin nodded.
Penelope smiled. "Speak soon."
Having been sent to the office since the storm surge had been confirmed to have died down, and the hurricane had moved on, Alan was relieved when the flashing holograph alerted him to his older brother's imminent arrival.
"Thunderbird 3, you are cleared for landing. You'd better not scratch my 'bird Scott or you'll be sorry." Alan warned him, lounging around in the grey swivel chair as he monitored the orange rocket's descent towards the island. He knew there wouldn't be a touch of damage to his precious Thunderbird's paintwork, but the usual teasing seemed to make everything more normal.
"I'm her co-pilot, I think I know how to land her," Scott told him, causing Alan to smirk.
"Yeah, well there's a first time for everything."
"Like a first time for me actually telling Tin-Tin about the letter you wrote her that's sitting under your mattress?"
Alan stared at him in shock, colouring. "How do you even know about that?" He yelped, horror filling his voice. Scott gave him a mock evil grin, shrugging.
"I have my sources." He commented, reaching across to adjust one of the controls as the rocket slowed, preparing to land.
"Yeah, right."
"Want to risk it?" Scott asked him as the Thunderbird gradually disappeared inside her hanger, the sun blocked out as the roof slid shut to conceal the secret within.
"I hate you sometimes," Alan muttered, leaning down to tie his shoelace, and promptly losing his balance, tumbling to the floor with a crash, bringing part of the equipment down on top of him. Feeling the now familiar dizziness return, he sighed, feeling his shoulder which had taken most of his weight. Great. After five minutes, he attempted to move again when someone tugged the equipment off him, and pulled him to his feet.
"Honestly Sprout, are you ever going to learn how to move without half knocking yourself out?"
"Probably not," Alan grinned, attempting to stand up by himself. "Hi Scooter."
"Hi. Where's Dad?" Scott cast a look out of the window, his eyes widening as he spotted the wreckage covering the decking. The pool was all but destroyed, and the diving board had been taken for a surfing lesson.
"God knows. Somewhere trying to salvage parts of the house." Alan frowned, checking his watch. "He should have been back by now, surely?" He looked up as Scott moved over to the door.
"Stay here. I'm not having you putting any more weight on that ankle than necessary." Scott ruffled the youngest Tracy's hair, ducking as Alan swung out with his arm in annoyance, having been expecting the move.
"You are scary sometimes. How do you know I was going to do that?"
"Seriously Allie? I have four younger brothers - there's a clue." Scott opened the door, grinned back at Alan and disappeared out into the soaking wet remains of the house. The hurricane hadn't been kind to them, as parts of the roof were gone completely and most of the floor was soaking in cold rainwater. Mud was caking parts of the floorboards, and apparently Mother Nature had figured that the newest addition to the décor was to be about five palm leaves, which clung to the ceiling like spider monkeys.
"Dad?" He ducked down under a piece of what he guessed must have been the ceiling once. The door leading to the Infirmary and their rooms was blocked and he shoved at it, frowning as something went crashing to the floor on the other side of the door. "Oops," he muttered, stepping through the doorway, unable to discover anything that had made the sound. Wandering down the corridor, he stared at the Infirmary, amazed to find it had escaped completely undamaged other than the door where something had smashed into from the corridor.
The end of the once carpeted corridor, where Gordon and John's rooms were, hadn't been quite as lucky. They weren't there - the entire end of the corridor which had once led out to another path down to the beach was completely gone as if a tornado had swept through, taking them with it.
"Wow." Scott had to admit - he was shocked. Stumbling over a piece of wood, he stepped out into the open space where the rooms had been swept away. Kneeling down, he surveyed the area. The winds had been powerful but he hadn't been expecting this much damage. His brothers' weren't going to be happy when they saw the destruction. There was absolutely nothing left...which made Gordon's disappearance even more real.
"Right." Getting back to his feet, he double checked Alan's room and Virgil's, bypassing his own. He wasn't too bothered about what had happened to it, as long as the important things with memories were okay then he didn't mind. Electronic things could be replaced after all and Brains probably had new inventions in place anyway.
"Hello? Dad!" He yelled, feeling apprehension building as he still received no reply. For both Jeff and Brains to have seemingly gone missing then something had to have gone wrong. Frowning, he stopped, trying to think of somewhere they would have headed. "Thunderbird 2's hanger," He realised aloud, running for the normal home of the massive green aircraft. Skidding to a halt, he went crashing into something and ended up on the floor. A quick glance up revealed the damage.
"Whoa. What the hell?"
"Pretty bad, isn't it?" Jeff sighed, appearing from the other side of the hanger where he'd been talking with Brains and crossing the floor to help Scott to his feet.
"Pretty bad? Jeez, it's more like we had a bomb go off in here!" Scott stared at his surroundings, wiping mud off his jeans. "It's a good job Thunderbird 5's scanner picked on the water rising when it did, or we'd have all but nothing left. We've lost loads as it is."
"You've seen John and Gordon's rooms then?" Jeff asked him not at all surprised when his son nodded, giving up on the mud and instead kicking a piece of what he gathered had been an old hover-bike out of his way.
"Yeah. They are not going to be happy." Scott frowned, rubbing his wrist where he'd landed on a sharp piece of wood. "Where's Brains?"
"Trying to salvage Thunderbird 1's hanger. It's..." Jeff searched for the right word to describe the completely destroyed hanger, and coming up empty handed, which was enough for Scott who sighed.
"That bad?" He whispered, glancing across to the door.
"Just be glad that John took Thunderbird 1...otherwise you wouldn't have a Thunderbird left to fly," Jeff admitted. Scott instantly set off towards the direction of the ruined hanger. "Oh and Alan's wondering where you are!" He yelled over his shoulder at his father, disappearing through the doorway and stopping dead, finding himself speechless.
"Uh...h-hi Scott." Brains appeared beside him, waiting nervously for the reaction as Scott looked down over the railings at the flooded hanger. The murky waters below were lapping at the sides of the silo with an almost peaceful rhythm which seemed almost ironic as they had almost cost them their lives earlier.
"I...just wow." Scott stared round at the damage, trying to figure out the repair work that needed to be completed, and the costs. On his watch, his personal AI, named Xeon, showed the prices for most of the tech that had surrounded the silo.
"This c-can all be r-repaired," Brains offered, trying to sound as hopeful as it was possible without going completely over the top.
Scott nodded. "I really owe John," He muttered, stepping away. "Even if he did directly disobey his order, although I'm pretty glad he did. Actually, I need to call him. And Virgil."
Brains nodded, watching him go and then leant over the railings. "R-right." He announced to no-one in particular, apart from one of the assisting robots that helped carry out the major repair works from time to time. "I'm going to need..."
Virgil let out an exasperated sigh as he turned back to where his watch was vibrating. He'd left it on his pilot's seat when heading outside, having some detective work of his own to figure out - namely why John was refusing to speak to him. It was obvious his immediate older brother was hiding something, but quite what he wasn't sure. Swiping his finger across the screen of the watch, he accepted the call.
"Hi Scott," He greeted his brother, collapsing back down into the chair and patching the call through to the main radio and vid-screen, allowing the holograph projectors to kick into action.
"Hi. Look Virg, I really need a favour..." Scott began immediately, heading straight for the reason he was ringing.
"What now?" Virgil pretended to sigh, grinning as he spotted the familiar background of tropical trees behind the pilot, easily guessing that he was on the beach. "Didn't take you long to persuade Dad to let you come back down dirt-side then?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Virgil leaned back, frowning at him. He seemed to have the same distracted air about him as John had, something which was beginning to annoy Virgil. Why was it so hard for people to just be honest with each other once in a while? It made everything a hell of a lot easier.
"So, what's this favour you need?" He asked after a pause to consider his options.
"I need you to sneak Thunderbird 2 back to Tracy Island and pick up, and then fly back out to Bermuda all without anyone else knowing." Scott told him matter-of-factly.
"What?" Virgil stared at him incredulously, wondering if he had heard correctly. "Are you kidding me?"
"Nope. Seriously, I need you to do this for me." Scott shot back instantly, deadly serious.
"What's the big deal other than you wanting to smother Gordon the second he gets back?" If he gets back, Virgil added silently in his mind.
"I can't tell you that. All I can tell you is that I have to make John making a massive mistake."
"You're not joking, are you?" Virgil realised, snapping into serious mode. He couldn't help the feeling of hurt that his brother didn't seem to trust him enough to tell him the full measure of what was going on. At least he now knew there was definitely something going on with John.
"No, 'fraid not." Scott admitted, meeting his gaze and then looking down again, not quite able to look straight at him. Probably because Virgil could read him like an open book.
"That's why you're calling me from the beach?" Virgil inquired, trying hard not to laugh. Clearly their father had no idea what was going on, and Scott was planning to keep it that way. Whatever was happening, it had to be bad. Especially if Alan wasn't in on the big secret either.
"Yes. Virgil, can you do this or am I going to have to hijack Thunderbird 3 and risk death by Alan?"
"Death by Alan?" Virgil laughed, smirking at the outraged look on Scott's face as he realised his younger brother was amusing himself at his expense.
"Whatever. Listen Virg, this is serious. I have to get to Bermuda, or John's going to find himself in big trouble."
"What's going to happen to John? Tell me or I won't fly to pick you up." Virgil demanded and Scott shook his head.
"It's up to John to tell, and I'm not going to tell you I'm case there was a specific reason he hasn't told you yet. I promise everything is going to be okay though."
"Scott, I'm not a little kid any more. You don't have to protect me."
"You really think there's any chance of that?" Scott looked vaguely amused as Virgil all but growled at him.
"So you have any idea how hard it would to sneak Thunderbird 2 back to base without Dad finding out? She's not exactly quiet, even if she is the best!" Virgil asked him sarcastically, noting that his brother didn't react to the deliberate teasing about whose Thunderbird was the better. Normally they'd be pointing out the reasons that their particular craft was clearly perfect, but the fact that wasn't happening meant there was clearly something wrong.
"Please?" Scott pleaded with him.
"Did you just..." Virgil tried to lean forwards and examine his brother through the vid-screen and Scott sighed, shooting him a frustrated glare. "I never had any intention of not coming to collect you...you must have known that?"
"Maybe. Listen, thank you. Now find John and try to talk to him...I didn't leave things that well with him last time we spoke, so maybe you'll have better luck."
"I guess he might tell me what's going on, as he seems to trust me more than you." Virgil muttered, regretting it as he saw the hurt look cross his brother's features. "I didn't mean that," he added quickly.
Scott shrugged and cut the connection, leaving his younger brother sitting back in Thunderbird 2 and wondering how everything had gone so terribly wrong in a space of a week.
Ah, family drama. Don't you just love it? *sarcasm*
So...uh, review?
Kat x