Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Characters: Gordon. Rating: K+. Warnings: None

Drabble challenge from its-lovelyhappycollection: "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you just yet." with Gordon.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you just yet," was one of those sentences that automatically inspired the emotion they were telling you not to feel. In this case, it meant that if they weren't planning a quick slit of the throat or bullet through the skull, then they were planning something that was no doubt going to hurt a lot more. It also frequently meant they were confident that there was no rush.

"I wasn't worried at all," he quipped, because these men might have knives and guns but they were also amateurs. "You going to tell me what you are going to do?"

Being tied up with his own grapple pack was rather annoying, to put it mildly. The frantic pings from his comm that they - stupidly - weren't letting him pick up were giving him a headache, too. There was at least one smother-brother on the other end of those. Probably three by now.

Gordon suspected a submarine pod was going to be deployed soon - if it hadn't been already - and then he was going to have to explain to whichever big brother was in it that, yes, he'd been jumped by the guys he was supposed to be saving.

Then he'd be dragged back into training with Kayo, and no doubt Scott would join in, and there would be lectures about letting his guard down.

Oh who was he kidding. That was going to happen the moment they debriefed and he was forced to fess up.

"You're going to teach us how to handle that submarine of yours," the probably-leader of the group told him. He brandished the knife in a way that was probably supposed to be intimidating but really just showed how terrible a grip he had on it.

"Do you know anything about submarines?" Gordon asked them doubtfully. More to the point, did they know anything about IR tech, because the moment they boarded Thunderbird Four, John could lock her down nice and tight and take them straight to the GDF.

"Of course!"

Yeah right. Gordon rolled his eyes. "So you know how to make sure your ballast is balanced, right, because Thunderbird Four doesn't do that automatically for you."

She did, if you turned the training wheels on. Gordon had only insisted on those because none of his brothers had a hope of controlling her on full manual, though. They were never turned on when he was in the cockpit.

"That's easy," the man scoffed.

Liar.

"So why are we here, in a rapidly flooding cave, talking about it, instead of actually being in the submarine that came to escort you gentlemen out of here?" he asked.

"Because you aren't coming with us." Ah, there was the yet part regarding not killing him. They were planning on leaving him to drown. Charming.

"Well that's not very friendly of you," he commented. "But fine, you want to know how to pilot her?"

As if he'd tell them. But he was more than happy for them to board and leave him behind. At least then he could answer his panicked brothers, get the would-be-subnappers bundled up in GDF custody, and wait for pickup.

He had plenty of oxygen in the tank.

This one jumped tracks about halfway through, so I'm still not entirely sure what's actually going on here, but it was fun to write, regardless!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari