Testing Times
A/N – This is my first attempt with the Tracy family so apologies if the characters are a little rough around the edges. I've set this before International Rescue properly starts but after the family have moved to Tracy Island to start building their dream. I can lay no claim to any of the Thunderbirds characters.
xoxoxox
Jeff Tracy sat at his desk, elbows on the hard surface with his fingers steepled together in front of him. His brow was furrowed in deep thought as he considered the best course of action. The catalyst for his concern was a letter placed on the desk in front of him. The envelope was addressed to Alan and still sealed but that didn't mean Jeff was ignorant of the contents, he had far too many old contacts who had been willing to email and congratulate him on his son's achievement before the physical letter of confirmation had arrived. Jeff took a deep breath and spoke in the general direction of his wrist which was sporting one of the communicator watches designed by his middle son, John.
"Jeff calling Alan", he paused while the younger man accepted the call, "Come to the study".
He disconnected the call quickly and waited for his youngest son to appear. It didn't take many minutes before there was a firm knock at the door. A summons to the study was generally not a pleasant experience and the young man that entered had a demeanour that was less than confident.
"Sit down Alan".
Alan sat on the opposite side of the desk and looked is father in the eye, wondering what indiscretion had warranted a summons. His conscious was for once clear but that didn't stop a feeling of guilt creeping over him.
"A letter arrived for you in the last post run".
In the age of modern electronic communications a physical letter was a rarity and the guilt Alan was feeling was replaced by curiosity. He looked at the envelope indicated by his father and swallowed. The envelope bore the stamp of the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He thought back to the application his father had suggest he make several months earlier when his elder brother, Gordon, had been recovering from a hydrofoil accident and it looked like the plans for launching International Rescue would have to be delayed. Now, with the organisation nearly ready to commence operations, the idea of heading off to university seemed laughable. Still, he mused, it would be interesting to see the response. He reached across, picked up the envelope, and opened it.
Dear Mr Tracy,
We are delighted to offer you a place on the study programme within the School of Aeronautics and Astronautics, Faculty of Engineering...
The letter continued giving details of how to accept the place and information on term dates.
Alan put it down and let out an inaudible sign of relief. For once it looked like the trip to the study would be over quickly. He smiled and his usual light attitude returned.
"Well it's nice to know they think I'm up to the course. I'll head back to my room and send a response declining their offer. I can't wait to see Virgil's face, he never thought I'd make the grade".
Jeff's next comment stilled the younger man and wiped all traces of relief off Alan's face.
"I think you should accept the place"
"But I can't. International Rescue will be ready to start in a couple more months and I can't help out if I'm at MIT."
"I'm not sure you are ready for International Rescue. Maybe after some time at college you will be so for now I think you should accept the offer."
Alan could feel the blood beginning to pound in his ears as his temper rose. He felt sick at what his father was saying. Sick at the implication that he wasn't good enough to join his father's new venture despite giving up everything in his old life and committing wholeheartedly to supporting his father's dream. He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over. Jeff Tracy winced slightly at the sound of the chair legs scuffing the polished floor but he maintained eye contact with his son as Alan released his emotions in an angry tirade.
"Is that what you think? That I'm not good enough? I have done everything you have asked of me and more. I could be out there" he flung his arm out towards the panoramic window and it's view of the vast Pacific Ocean "in the real world. I could be racing still. I've followed your orders to the letter, even staying out of the media after winning the World Championship. Instead I packed it all in to be part of your dream and now you tell me I'm not welcome!"
Jeff never dropped his gaze as Alan poured out his frustrations. He waited until Alan stopped, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Jeff Tracy was not a man who accepted disobedience from his sons and Alan had most definitely crossed a line.
After pausing a moment to ensure that Alan really had finished saying his piece Jeff dismissed his son with a single, barely audible sentence. "Go to your room and consider your behaviour."
Alan turned stiffly around and strode to the door without a further word. Jeff listened to the footsteps retreating towards the accommodation quarters indicating that his son had more sense than to disobey his final command. He picked up the letter, left behind on the desk by Alan, that had provided the prompt for the difficult conversation and read the full contents. Even in his present mood he couldn't help but feel a touch of paternal pride that his son, despite not having devoted much time to study over the previous years, had managed to achieve a placement at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world. Academically the two youngest Tracys had always been overshadowed but the three elder siblings who had excelled in their chosen fields. This letter was proof that there was more to Alan than a hot-headed adrenalin junkie.
It was this final thought that made Jeff reconsider his viewpoint. If Alan had always been overshadowed and not had the chance to demonstrate his talent, what other parts of his character had been misjudged? He settled down to some deep thinking before calling Brains through to the study. The two men remained closeted in the room in deep discussion until lunch time.
xoxoxox
Lunch was a quiet affair. Alan's place at the table was conspicuously empty. When John had offered to run and find him but been prevented from doing so by their father the remaining four Tracy siblings shared an ominous glance at each other. Living in close quarters on the island meant that rumours travelled quickly and tensions were keenly felt. It looked like the rumour that Alan had shouted at their father was true and none of the other brothers wanted to risk putting their head above the parapet. The glances were redoubled when their father announced towards end of the meal that he wanted the four brothers to join him in the study once they had finished their dessert. As the brothers filed down the corridor in a group the nervous anticipation filled the air around them like static electricity.
Scott, as eldest, was given the dubious honour of knocking on the study door. The brothers filed in to find their father already sitting behind the desk with four chairs arranged in front of him. They sat in silence and waited for whatever announcement their father wanted to make. They didn't have long to wait.
"I've called you here regarding Alan. I have had my concerns regarding his...suitability...to be part of International Rescue. Concerns that his behaviour today has done little to dispel. However, International Rescue is about more than the feelings of one individual and you, as the field operatives, would be the ones that need most confidence in his abilities."
The brothers shifted in their seats uncomfortably, unhappy with the direction the meeting was taking. Their father continued.
"I cannot deny that his skills would be an asset to the organisation. Starting operations with just five was always going to be challenging, one fewer would be even harder. However, it's his character that is giving me most concern. I have spoken in depth with Brains regarding the psychological profiling he has undertaken but I also want to hear your own opinions."
Scott looked across at his bothers and took a deep breath. As de facto leader the unpleasant role of spokesman fell to him.
"Sir, none of us can dispute that Alan is incredibly capable, especially at those tasks he enjoys…." Scott tailed off uncomfortably.
"But..." his father prompted.
"But sometimes he gets carried away. He doesn't always stop and think how his actions might affect others."
Jeff Tracy nodded. He knew that his sons were loyal to each other and it would have taken a lot for Scott to break that united front. However, they had been brought up to be honest and this was one of those situations where total honesty was required.
"I have had similar concerns myself."
"That doesn't me we don't want to work with him though" Scott carried on in a rush, "I think I speak for all of us when I say that I think International Rescue needs him. You said yourself that starting with just four would be difficult and he has skills that would make him a valuable asset. When it comes to anything on four wheels he puts the rest of us to shame. If you cut Alan out now I think you would lose him from International Rescue forever and I'd rather have him on board now, while we still have time for training, than risk losing him completely. He is our brother and we all vowed to join this together."
Jeff could see the sense in his son's words. Alan could be stubborn and impetuous. If he felt rejected he might be lost forever.
"Which is why Brains and I have been designing a training exercise. One that is focussed on Alan taking the lead rather and using initiative rather than following orders". Scott looked decidedly unhappy at the idea of being bossed around by his youngest brother until his father explained further. "There may be occasions when Alan is out of contact with the team and has to operate under his own direction. Rescues where you, Scott, are not available to give him direction. The scenario we have in mind requires only Virgil to be present, the rest of us need only be on hand in case anything goes awry. I'll call Brains in to explain further. If you are not comfortable with the scenario, Virgil, I will rethink the training exercise but I hope you will consent to take part."
Virgil felt uncomfortable. If their father was seeking his consent then there must be a potential for danger. He shared puzzled looks with his brothers who could only shrug their shoulders in return while their father called through to their resident scientist, doctor and inventor; Brains. The brothers looked even more puzzled when Brain appeared carrying a small bundle of material, a heavy lump hammer from the workshop and a small battery pack. They waited for an explanation. Jeff turned his attention predominantly to Virgil.
"Brains has been working on a new invention. One that will allow us to test Alan in a scenario outside of his comfort zone while at the same time ensuring Virgil's safety. While it could technically be any one of you taking part alongside Alan we felt that you, Virgil, would be most likely to be found in this particular set up and would also be least likely to interfere in however Alan chooses to deal with it. Some of your brothers might find it difficult to restrain themselves from giving unsolicited advice" This last comment was accompanied by a pointed look at Scott.
"So what do you have planned?" Virgil asked. "You have said you won't go ahead if I'm not comfortable but you haven't given me any indication of what you plan to do."
"You said the other day that the gears had been stripped in one of the Mole's side traction units?"
"Yes" said Virgil, still at a loss.
"I would like you and Alan to remove the unit to replace the gears but drop it so your legs are trapped".
Virgil's eyes widened. His father has spoken as those all he had been asked to do was stub his toe, not potentially lose his legs.
"But that traction unit has got to weigh about two tonnes!" he exclaimed.
"2038 kilogrammes to be precise" John chipped in helpfully. Virgil just glared.
"You seriously want me to drop two tonnes of metal onto my legs? No way. I'm not letting Alan practice his first aid on my mangled legs and I'm not going to risk damaging the Mole either." Virgil sat back and folded his arms.
"The scenario is to see how Alan copes in an extraction type situation rather than a medical emergency. There is a new side unit for the Mole available so the one with the stripped gears can go to scrap if it is unsalvageable. I'll leave it to Brain here to explain how your legs will be protected".
"T-t-thank you, Mr T-t-tracy" the young engineer stammered. "You will be wearing these Virgil."
He handed Virgil the bundle of material. Virgil unrolled it to reveal what looked suspiciously like a pair of surgical stockings. The material was slightly stretchy and had an odd waxy feel.
"I have been experimenting with n-n-non-Newtonian fluids. I h-h-had been hoping to c-c-create a light-w-w-weight cast material for broken bones but the m-m-material's activation method is impractical".
"Non-Newtonian fluids?" John queried. "You mean like cornflour gloop"
The boys thought back to their early childhood science lessons. Non-Newtonian fluids didn't behave as expected when forces were applied. In the case of cornflour mixed with water the resultant slurry looked like any other liquid. If you moved your fingers through it very slowly it felt like any other liquid but if you were more forceful and tried to move your hand quickly the slurry would solidify until the force was released.
"Indeed. The coating on the m-m-material has n-n-non-Newtonian properties. If it encounters sufficient force the whole piece of m-m-material solidifies into and strong and rigid cast. Unlike cornflour, ah, gloop, the material stays rigid even when the force is removed. The m-m-material is deactivated by ap-p-p-lication of a small electric current. I have been hoping to d-d-discover another activation method so that the m-m-material can have a m-m-medical application but so far it seems you j-j-just have to hit it." Brains sighed at the fact that his marvellous scientific breakthrough relied on such an unscientific action to work.
Their father continued the explanation. "Brains has been demonstrating his invention to me this morning. The idea is that Virgil will be wearing the sleeves under his overalls to protect his legs. When the Mole's traction unit is dropped the force of the impact will turn the sleeves into a rigid armour that will protect your legs leaving you entirely uninjured. The focus of the task for Alan will be to safely remove the Mole unit and evacuate you from from the area."
"Is it really necessary to drop the unit? Can't we just set it up slowly so we don't risk damage to the equipment"
Jeff was not surprised that Virgil had just as much concern for the equipment as for himself. "Unfortunately the material behaves in a non-Newtonian manner in more then one way. Just like with the cornflour, if the forces are too gentle or too slow the material will not harden. I'm afraid it's all or nothing".
"And what if Alan doesn't want to free me because he is worried about making my 'injury' worse?"
"There will also be a simulated fire which will add some urgency to the task. Your brothers and I will be on hand in case we are needed. Alan will not be aware of this."
Virgil nodded his understanding but still didn't look inclined to agree with the set up.
"Perhaps a d-d-demonstration of the sleeves would be beneficial?" Brain suggested.
Jeff Tracy nodded and gestured to Virgil to pass the sleeves back to him. He stood up, placed one hand inside the tube of material and passed the lump hammer to Virgil with the other.
"I wouldn't ask you to do something I wasn't prepared to do myself" Jeff said while placing his sleeved hand on the desk. "Now I want you to hit my hand as hard as you can."
Virgil looked apprehensive as he raised the hammer. He paused with his arm raised and looked his father in the eye, the doubt on his face evident for all to see. Jeff held his son's gaze and gave a small nod of assent. Virgil looked back down at the hand on the desk, made sure his aim was true, then swung the hammer down with enough force to pulverise the fragile limb in front of him.
The three brothers still seated all flinched as the hammer fell, fully expecting to hear a scream of pain. Instead the only sound was a quiet thud followed by an exclamation of surprise from Virgil as the hammer bounced up, nearly causing him to lose his grip on the handle.
Jeff Tracy raised his hand and smiled at his sons. The sleeve was now a solid shell encasing his hand and arm like a badly fitting mitten. Virgil reached out for it, dumbstruck, and examined his father's newly acquired armour. Brains stepped forwards with the battery pack and applied two terminals to the sleeve which instantly returned to its floppy material state. Jeff removed his hand from the sleeve and flexed his fingers to prove that everything was still working normally.
"Now Virgil, how about you try?" his father asked.
"Can I hit you?" Scott asked.
Virgil shook his head. "Not you. Gordon".
The youngest Tracy present started in surprise. "You want me to be the one that hits you? Seriously?"
"Yes. You can put those swimmer's arms to good use. Anyway, Scott prefers his tools to be jet propelled and laser guided. At least you aren't likely to miss with something so low-tech and I'm not convinced John knows which end of a hammer to hold."
There were twin exclamations of indignation from Scott and John as they registered the insults against them. Gordon just smirked. Virgil tried to keep his feelings light but it was with some trepidation that he pulled on a sleeve and placed his hand on the desk.
"You might want to put your wrist through the loop" he said to Gordon, indicating the leather strap threaded through the handle of the hammer. "There was a bit of a rebound when I tried and we don't want the hammer to go flying."
Gordon nodded, put his hand through the strap and raised the hammer to strike. Virgil closed his eyes. He felt the air currents move as the strong arm of his brother sped on its downward trajectory then felt...nothing.
Virgil cautiously opened his eyes. Gordon was rubbing his hand where the rebound of the hammer had indeed taken him by surprise. Virgil raised his hand up and found it was completely fixed in the position it had been on the desk. The material, though incredibly light and thin, was absolutely inflexible. He took a moment to marvel at the ingenious invention before grinning at his brothers. The crowded round him compared the second sleeve in its still floppy state to the rigid one now encasing Virgil's arm. Brains stepped forwards and freed Virgil with a quick application of the battery pack.
The atmosphere in the room, in contrast to the oppressive and moody feel of earlier, was now light and jubilant. The younger Tracys took it in turns to hit and release each other and John, contrary to Virgil's assertion, demonstrated that he did indeed know the correct way to hold a hammer. He decided it was time to get some revenge for the earlier insult.
"There is a major problem with this whole plan though" he mused.
The other's in the room turned to stare at him, curious as to was flaw had been overlooked. Jeff looked at John, a look of concern creeping into his eyes. "What is it son?"
"Well." John kept is voice level and deadly serious, "Brains' invention works so well that the wearer doesn't feel a thing".
The others nodded.
"Meaning Virgil will have to act as though two tonnes of solid machine have just fallen on him to make it seem realistic" the deadpan John continued.
It was Scott's turn to smirk as he realised where this is going.
"Meaning it's doomed to fail because we all know Virgil here couldn't act his way out of a paper bag. He doesn't have the imagination."
There was a roar of annoyance as Virgil launched himself towards John only to find himself held back by a grinning Scott.
"That's it little bro" he laughed "that's the sort of theatrics we need. How about you practice a scream now?"
"That's enough, boys" their father warned. "Everyone back to your seats".
The four junior Tracys resumed their seats and calm returned.
"So Virgil, will you do it?" Jeff asked.
Virgil nodded and quickly reminded everyone of why they had been called together in the first place. "If you think Alan needs to prove himself, and this is how you want to do it, then I'll go along with your plan. I can't deny I'm not looking forward to deceiving him but I do have confidence in Brains' invention".
Jeff Tracy let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Virgil. I hope, after the event, we can all look back on this as just another training exercise. I don't like putting you in this position but at the same time I need to be sure that I'm not putting anyone into danger by sending out a team that is not operating at full strength. This is an opportunity for Alan to demonstrate talents that I hope are hidden rather than absent".
Jeff Tracy dismissed his sons with the exception of Virgil and John. More planning was needed if the scenario was to realistic and they and Brains disappeared into Brains' workshop for the rest of the afternoon to make the arrangements.
Dinner was as quiet as lunch. Alan's chair was still ominously empty.
xoxoxox
Alan made his reappearance at breakfast the next morning. He greeted his brothers but they noticed that the accompanying smile never reached his eyes. The few words he did exchange with them dried up entirely when their father arrived at the table.
"Good morning. We have got a busy day ahead. I want to run some communications tests so I'll be needing you with me John. Gordon, Scott, I'll need you too. We will be checking the comms link from Thunderbird 4. We will be tied up for most of the morning I'm afraid."
Three of the Tracy brothers exchanged a look and a fourth gave a barely perceptible nod to confirm that the plan was being put into action without delay. Alan was oblivious to the silent exchange, his head down and avoiding eye contact while finishing his breakfast.
"Will you need me?" Virgil asked casually.
"No. I'm sure there are plenty of other jobs that need your skills."
"Great. I'd like to take a look at the Mole. She took a bit of abuse drilling a ventilation tunnel last week and needs some repairs."
"Sure. If you need help Alan can work with you. The tests we will be doing will need us to shut down the comms systems at points so don't worry if we drop out of contact."
Alan looked as though the last thing he wanted to be doing was helping out in the workshop but he mumbled his assent to the plan. He reasoned that working with Virgil would keep him out the way of their father. He also felt a pang of guilt because the damage to the Mole was his fault. Ever impatient and wanting to test how quickly the mighty drill could go he had overstrained the machine against the advice of his brother. Virgil had been understandably annoyed but not told their father the reason why one of their precious tools was out of action was because his youngest brother was pining for the race track and had gunned the engine.
Breakfast finished and the Tracys wandered off to their respective tasks, Virgil taking a detour to his rooms to slide on the protective sleeves before heading down to the workshop.
Virgil and Alan, clad in matching overalls, worked in companionable silence. Alan for once felt glad that he was partnered with the quiet engineer rather than with the more chatty Gordon. Virgil was not one to pry and Alan was relieved not to be deflecting questions about has absence the day before. He vowed to follow Virgil's instructions to the letter. Defiance against their father would not earn him a place in International Rescue, only hard work and dedication. Despite insinuating the previous day that he had sacrificed his life in the outside world to follow his father's dream the reality was that Alan had willingly entered in to the enterprise and the thought he might not be permitted to be a part of it was devastating. He had spent most of the previous day following his father's direction to 'think about his behaviour' and made a vow to himself to knuckle down prove his father wrong.
"Earth to Alan" Virgil's voice cut across his brooding
"Huh"
"You finished loosening that bolt two minutes ago. You seem a bit distracted. Are you ok?"
"Erm, yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot to think about."
"Well it's time to wake up. The unit is ready to be lifted clear and I can't do that if you are stood in the way.
Alan obligingly moved to one side while Virgil attached a set of electromagnetic clamps to the damaged section. The clamps were connected to a hoist that could be moved around the entire workshop on a set of tracks attached to the roof. The whole system allowed heavy weights to be moved into position with ease and had proved to be invaluable in the initial build and ongoing maintenance of the machines. Machines which were currently being used to assist with the building of the island base but would soon form the fleet of rescue vehicles at their disposal.
Virgil looked at his watch and assured himself that everything was running to schedule. John, rather than running communications tests, should be monitoring the workshop. Scott and Gordon would be on hand to free him if Alan failed in his task. Their father would be keeping a close watch on everything.
Virgil guided the unit until it was situated above a clear patch of floor. He sent Alan on an errand to the far end of the workshop on the pretext of getting some different tools then carefully sat on the floor with his legs straight out. Once he was sure that only those parts of him covered by the sleeves were in the impact zone did he send the signal through to those controlling proceedings remotely. He braced for impact and prepared to let out a scream.
The power to the workshop cut out plunging the cavernous space into darkness. At the same time the electromagnetic clamps released and sent the traction unit crashing to the floor. The scream that tore through the air was real.
The sleeve on his left leg behaved exactly as it had in all the experiments. The sleeve on his right seemed to have solidified then cracked across his shin leaving him acutely aware of the pressure bearing down on him. Thankfully the intact left cast seemed to be supporting most of the weight of the traction unit. Virgil took some deep breaths, lay as still as he could, and tried to block out the pain. Once the initial shock, and pain, had subsided he was able to analyse the situation and it wasn't good. The way the unit was currently balanced his unprotected shin was not bearing much of the load but if the unit was moved too much in the wrong direction it could easily crush and break the trapped limb. As the emergency lighting flickered into life Virgil hoped that Alan would release him quickly so he could assess the damage.
Alan had been jogging to the opposite end of the workshop when the drama began. He skidded to a halt as the space was plunged into darkness then spun around blindly as he heard the scream. He felt a surge of panic rise inside him and knew he had to get back to Virgil. He was still fumbling for the small torch on his tool belt when the emergency lighting flickered on. In the dim light he could make out the sight of the fallen traction unit and his brother sprawled on the floor.
Alan sprinted back up the workshop; he could hardly have reached his brother faster if he had one of his sports cars at his disposal. He skidded to the floor and crouched down by Virgil's head, unaware that his every action was being watched via a video feed.
"Virg! Are you ok?"
Virgil grimaced and tried to breathe through the pain. "Hurts", he panted "legs hurt". At least, Virgil reflected, he was in no state to give Alan directions.
"Stay where you are. I'll get help". Alan raised his arm and cried out "Alan calling Scott". No answer. He tried again "Alan calling John". Again, no answer.
Virgil closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He wasn't going anywhere. "Noone else here. You, gotta, get, me, out."
A look of comprehension crossed Alan's face. His father and the others were goodness knows where on the island and, judging from the unresponsive communicator on his wrist, couldn't currently be reached. He took some deep breaths, fighting the rising panic, and tried to think what to do.
His first thought was to get Virgil out from under the crushing machinery. Alan positioned himself behind his brother's head, raised Virgil's torso and tried to bodily drag the man out.
Another scream.
Alan dropped his brother heavily back to the floor. "I'm sorry" he gibbered, "uh, I don't want to make it worse. I need to grab a medical kit. I won't be long."
As Alan prepared to exit the workshop, right on cue, the fire alarm blared out. At the same time a series of lights started flashing in a control panel mounted on the wall. The various colours and positions of the lights indicated that a fire had broken out near the paint bay and that the automatic fire fighting system had malfunctioned. Smoke started filling the workshop.
Alan felt sick from the combined effects of adrenalin and fear. The location of the fire was far enough away that they were not in immediate danger but the twin risks of smoke inhalation and the fire reaching the highly flammable and potentially explosive paints meant that evacuation was the main priority.
Virgil lay on the floor trying to stay as still as possible. He had to admit the scenario was feeling pretty real. He focussed on the comforting knowledge that the smoke was synthetic and the lights on the fire control panel were currently only flashing because of the commands that John was sending to it. However, the intense pressure on his leg kept him acutely aware that not every element had followed the carefully laid plan. Alan had now moved out of his eyeline and Virgil hoped he would come up with a viable plan the raise the traction unit off of his trapped legs quickly. He could hear muttering and the sound of hurrying footsteps which suggested Alan was assessing the tools available. Then a roaring sound filled his ears.
Alan had been running between the various work benches and banks of equipment, barely registering the tools he had at his disposal. He knew he had to get out of the workshop quickly in case the fire spread to the paint bay but realised his stricken brother was totally reliant on him. The overwhelming thought surging through brain was that he had to free Virgil's legs. Spying a canister and hose carefully hung up on the wall he formed a plan. He ran over and pulled on the shoulder straps so the canister was on his back like a rucksack. The protective mask and gloves lay forgotten on the rack. He ignited the hose attachment and advanced on the traction unit. The oxyhidenite cutter would make short work of the traction unit and allow him to cut his brother free.
The observers, tucked out of the way and watching proceedings on a video monitor, turned to each other in horror. Oxyhidenite might make short work of the traction unit but it also had the potential to seriously injure both the men in the workshop. Without any protective equipment the intense light generated by the oxyhidenite at is cut through the metal was likely to blind Alan while the radiating heat would burn Virgil; that's if Alan didn't end up amputating Virgil's legs with the high powered torch. There was also a very real risk that the various oils and lubricants in the traction unit would be set alight leaving Virgil trapped under an obstacle that was not just heavy but also on fire.
"Abort" shouted Scott as he and Gordon sprinted into the workshop, acting on instinct and not waiting for their father to make the decision to end the exercise. The eldest brother was the first to reach the youngest and he wrestled the startled man backwards, detaching the hose from the gas cannister and extinguishing the flame. The lights came on as John reinstated power to the circuits and Gordon activated the air filtration system to clear the smoke. The lights on the fire control panel winked out. The simulation was over.
Alan was startled at the sudden turn of events. Unable to see who was behind him he struggled against the strong grip of his unknown attacker; his arms were pinned to his sides and the oxyhidenite cannister was being forced painfully into his shoulder blades as he was dragged backwards in a bear hug. The fight was crushed out of him and he submitted to his stronger assailant. Only when Alan stopped trying to break free did the strong arms release their grip, allowing Alan to turn and identify his brother.
"Virgil!" He panted. "We've got to get him out!". Alan was still confused at the sudden appearance of Scott and Gordon and it took him a moment to register that the new arrivals seemed completely unfazed by their brother's predicament.
"It's ok Alan." Scott's voice was calm and reassuring. "It was just a training exercise. Everything is fine."
Alan sagged as the level of adrenaline that had been coursing through his body plummeted.
"A...a...training exercise?"
"Yes. Virgil's fine. Aren't you Virg?" Scott directed his last question to his brother lying pinned to the floor.
The only answer he received was a pained grunt.
Gordon had rejoined the group by this point and he dropped to the floor next to Virgil. He took in his brother's screwed up features and laboured breathing. "Uh, Scott. I don't think he is alright".
Scott's attention was immediately diverted to the situation in hand. Back in his habitual role of commander he swiftly took charge of the situation. He crouched down on the other side of Virgil and made a quick assessment of the problem. Of course he had the advantage that he had prior knowledge of the scenario and had spent the previous evening thinking through possible solutions and working out how he would go about performing the rescue. The only unknown was the extent of Virgil's injuries which should never have happened.
"Virgil, can you describe the pain to me?"
"Right leg," Virgil grunted. "Crushed. Don't think it's broken, yet. If that unit shifts though…"
Scott issued a quick command into the communicator on his wrist, one that brought Brains hurrying in with a stretcher and medical kit ready to deal with whatever injuries were currently hidden from view by the large piece of machinery.
Once he knew medical support was on hand in case shifting the machinery exacerbated the injury Scott tried reattaching the electromagenetic clamps. The hoist remained stubbornly unresponsive. Whether John had not yet re-established power to that circuit, or whether it was still protesting after the sudden shut down Scott wasn't sure, he just knew that he wasn't going to be raising the traction unit by that means.
"Gordon, get a set of jacks, I want four. Alan, we need some stabilising balloons."
His two siblings headed off in opposite directions to fetch the required equipment and soon returned with the requested items. The balloons were positioned first; the long tubular casings were slid under the traction unit as close as possible to Virgil's legs then inflated to try and relieve the pressure slightly.
Once they were assured that any jolts would be minimised by the balloons the brothers set to work with the jacks. The four jacks were slid under the four corners and raised until they were just grazing the underside of the traction unit. Scott then electronically tethered three of the jacks to a single master unit which would ensure that that load was raised evenly. After checking that Gordon was in position to drag Virgil clear Scott activated the controls and the heavy traction unit inched slowly upwards.
Two minutes later Virgil was being taken off to the infirmary on a stretcher.
Now that the crisis was over Alan sat on the floor, his head in his hands. Scott and Gordon, after sharing a concerned look, left him to it and started tidying up the scene. The traction unit was lowered to the floor where it could do no further damage. Equipment was checked and returned to its rightful place, including the discarded oxyhidenite cannister.
The inevitable debrief was an uncomfortable affair.
Lunch was even quieter than than it had been the day before. All those sat around the table felt the heavy gloom brought on by the failed training exercise. The news that Virgil's leg, while badly bruised, was otherwise uninjured did nothing to lift the mood. The fact that any harm had befallen him at all was another sign of failure and one that the Tracy patriarch was feeling most keenly.
Alan's seat remained empty.
xoxoxox
Alan lay on his bed, his arms wrapped around his pillow. Unseeing eyes gazed blankly at the wall as the events of the morning replayed through his mind. The silent tears had stopped falling but his cheeks still bore their evidence in the dirty smears left behind in the grime from the workshop.
A gentle tapping sounded on his door and he ignored it. Any hopes that the unwanted visitor would go away were dashed when the knocking came again followed by the unmistakable click of the door catch opening.
Alan stayed turned to the wall, furious at the intrusion and being found in such a vulnerable position. He expected to hear either his father or Scott, come to give him another dressing down. Or perhaps his grandmother offering comforting words and even more comforting apple pie. It was therefore a surprise when his visitor revealed itself to be John.
"Uh, Alan, can I come in?"
John took the silence as assent and stepped in, closing the door behind him. He placed a bowl on the corner of a desk strewn with papers and sat down at the foot of the bed; the warm smells pervading Alan's senses suggested he had at least been right about the apple pie.
"I thought you might be hungry."
Alan grunted something that might have been a thank you. He didn't move from his curled position, ashamed to let John see his red and puffy eyes.
"I know how you are feeling."
"I very much doubt that." Alan growled back.
"Dad will give you another chance."
"No. I proved him right today. You heard him at the debrief. I'm reckless, thoughtless and a danger to everyone around me. I may as well pack my bags now."
"I know he will give you another chance because he gave me one."
"What?" The surprising revelation caused Alan to sit up and survey his brother. John stayed staring across the room, unable to meet his brother's eye as he made his confession.
"You aren't the only person Dad has had doubts about. A few months back he set me my own training scenario and...it didn't go well."
"Bet you didn't end up nearly cutting your own brother in two."
"No. But I did put Grandma in danger."
"Grandma! What happened?"
"She forgave me." John knew he was deliberately avoiding the question. Most of his brothers had been off the island on a supply run that day and few people were aware of the events that still had him burning with shame. "The point is, so did Dad. I screwed up but he still gave me the opportunity to learn from my mistakes. Trust me, my debrief was just as bad as yours, mine was just less public. After he had ripped my actions and my character to shreds I was expecting to be sent packing on the next helijet out of here."
"So what changed?"
"I was furious at being set up and miserable that I could have hurt Grandma but after I calmed down I realised he only did it because he cares. He cares about International Rescue but more importantly he cares about us. He knows that when we start operations we will be dealing with things we can't yet imagine. In order to stay safe and come home in one piece we all need to be at the top of our game and that means working on the rough edges while we still have the chance, both as individuals and as a team. I've made plenty of mistakes but I've vowed to learn from them; I don't want to be the one that lets you all down. He knows you can do this Alan. He wouldn't have asked you to join if he didn't have total faith in you. He wants you as part of International Rescue and so do the rest of us."
"Really?"
"Really! You aren't the first person who has had to face up to a few home truths and had their weaknesses exposed and I'm pretty sure you won't be the last either. What matters now is how we move on from this and that's down to you. You can either sit in here brooding and give up on it all or you can treat it as a training exercise and learn from it."
John gazed around room. The furnishing was sparse and boxes were still waiting to be unpacked. A few posters of cars had been tacked to the walls, the creases and staple holes down the centre lines suggesting they had been ripped from the stack on magazines next to the bed. A pile of clean laundry lay on a chair and a cluster of dirty glasses filled the bedside unit.
He was suddenly struck by just how young he youngest brother was. Still a teenager in a house full of adults, the neglected bedroom highlighted that Alan had been putting in just as many hours as the rest of them and working just as hard to turn the island into a functioning base. John also mused that Alan was the only brother who hadn't flown the nest to live his own life. The rest of them had gone out into the world to start successful military or academic careers of their own choosing and willingly returned to take part in their father's venture. Alan might have spent a race season living out of a trailer but he had never moved out of the family home. The idea of rejection must have hit hard. John vowed to try harder with his youngest sibling.
"You should ask Virgil to paint you something a bit more personal" he said, gesturing to the tatty posters.
"I doubt he wants to talk to me at the moment."
"Give him time. There was no harm done in the end and you know Virgil doesn't hold grudges. Anyway, he is more interested in plotting revenge on Gordon at the moment."
"What on earth has Gordon done?"
"Brains has been studying those sleeves to work out why one of them cracked. He says that the coating got over stretched which compromised its strength. Gordon has been teasing Virgil about having fat legs."
Alan snorted in mirth and the laughter seemed to go some way to dragging him out of his despondency. "Gordon really does like to live dangerously. So, are you going to tell me what you did to Grandma?"
"I'm not quite ready to confess all. I'll tell you this though. Part of me is hoping Thunderbird 5 is operational before Christmas. Grandma has threatened it will be my turn to play the fairy on top of the tree and I'm not entirely sure she is joking."