John didn't know what to make of the call from his father, so he did what he did best; he compartmentalised it away to be looked at later. On Earth. Possibly with a stiff drink, definitely with a large bar of chocolate.

Jasmine had sent the details of tonight's testing through couple of hours ago. Annoyingly she seemed a lot less bothered about the whole thing than John himself was.

"Thunderbird Five this was my every day at one stage" she'd reminded him. "I know it's a lot for you, but I'm good. Really, I am."

Again, John had listened to her voice, to the calm certainty there. He concluded this wasn't a big deal for her in the same way that taking Thunderbird One out wasn't for Scott. They were both aware that things could go wrong, but that was what they'd prepared for and they were ready.

Jasmine should have arrived at the venue by now. He tried to imagine what it was like there but fell short. Underground fighting clubs were simply not something he'd ever experienced. Clubs of any kind were a rarity for him (though not as much as Gordon thought) so he could imagine the atmosphere a bit, but that was as far as it went.

Unfortunately, the warehouse in question didn't support any kind of camera system. In fact, most of the area was derelict and labelled as being part of the next gentrification project.

He opened a channel.

"Virgil, what's your ETA?"

"Still half an hour out John. Which I know you know as you booked the train tickets and the taxi. What's wrong brother?"

What could John say? That he had a sudden case of nerves? That tonight felt different despite it running pretty much exactly the same as any other night Jasmine was fighting? He was Thunderbird Five damnit. He delt in facts and figures, not feeling when it came to missions.

"Hey, John? I'm worried too. But she'll be alright. Most likely she'll be annoyed at being micromanaged."

John huffed out a breath.

"Yeah, you're right."

"Steady Thunderbird Five. You've got this and I'm on the ground if needed. Jasmine needs you to be the Voice of Calm for her this evening."

"I think that job title might be interchangeable" John said as he let his brother's voice ground him. Virgil was like that. He could find a way to say, if not the right thing, then the thing most likely to keep a person calm in the most dire of situations. Until he got annoyed, if that happened then watch out!

A beep caught his attention.

"Here we go Virgil, she's calling in."

"John? Feed it down here too, then I'll know what I'm walking into."

"FAB."

[Nothing much to report Thunderbird Five. This place has delusions of grandeur but otherwise it's exactly the same as every other one of these pits.]

[Is Steven there?] John asked.

[Obviously. The whole team is plus a few people that are trying very hard to not get noticed. I think the operation is bigger than the six of us from earlier. But then, that would make sense in a way. I'm opening the channel out now.]

John winced as noise filled Thunderbird Five. It sounded like Jasmine was in a stadium. Voices ricocheted around the space station cheering, jeering, shouting laughing. There was terrible club music at a nearly deafening level.

"I am sorry about this my dear" came Salvatore's voice. "Steven is so very concerned about me, you see and I do trust him so. You'll be alright though. I've seen the opponent and large he may be, but clever he is not."

"It's not a problem" she replied. To Thunderbird Five she sent;

[I really don't want to know what Steven and Salvatore's relationship actually is. What do you think the chances are of me completely avoiding that drama for the rest of the mission?]

[Low, unfortunately] John replied with a short laugh. [It's not something to worry about at the moment though.]

[Easy for you to say, you haven't got one of them draped over your shoulder like he's your long-lost uncle.]

"Show time, bella."

[Alright] John could hear her take a steadying breath. [Stepping into the arena now.]

John glanced towards Virgil and found his brother leaning forward his focus solely on the feed coming in. Not that there was much to go on.

[Shit.] The word was said emphatically.

[Jasmine, report.] John had accidentally moved into mission mode. He listened to the background noise noticing the hum as the arena force field clicked on. It didn't dimmish the braying voices though. It seemed this crowd did not recognise Oracle at all. Most of the voices were simply calling for blood.

[This guy is about the same size as Virgil] she said without emotion. A cackle erupted over the radio and suddenly the crowd cheered. [He's a showboat, I can use that.]

"Move your arse, bitch!"

"Bet you wish you'd stayed home with your dollys!"

"You'll look so pretty on the floor!"

"Kill her Fuse!"

The voices mixed together and John could feel his own heart racing as the jibes got more and more vicious.

"Hey" Jasmine suddenly called, her voice full of derision. "Are you planning to prance the evening away or are we going to do this?"

John looked towards the ceiling in disbelief. She was actually goading the man? What was she thinking?

"You're pretty tiny" the man said, his voice heavy with a broad south London accent. "I'm gonna squish you like a bug."

"No you're not" she returned conversationally.

There was a lull then. Even the crowd ringside started to quieten down.

"When you're ready big guy."

A roar split the speakers first from her opponent and then answered by the crowd. John's fingers turned white where they gripped the edge of the console. He had no idea what Virgil was doing, he just strained to listen but it was impossible to tell what was going on.

John recognised the concussive sound of flesh striking flesh though and he knew that the answering roar from the crowd meant that someone had landed a good blow. John tried filtering through the noise to try and work out who they were cheering for but it was no good.

There was another volley followed by the sounds of a discontented crowd.

[What's happening?] John asked after a few seconds of relative silence.

[Fuck!] It sounded like he'd made her jump. [Okay this guy is big and fairly dumb but mostly, really big. Sorry Thunderbird Five, I'm going to need to concentrate.]

With that the line went dead.