They could hear Scarlet long before they could see him- alternating between howling with pain or exploring the wider limits of his vocabulary to express his extreme displeasure with the events of the day. To be fair to him it had been going pretty well right up to the point the manufacturing plant they were in was encouraged to surrender to entropy, so the irritation was understandable.
Ochre, Scarlet and Blue had been investigating a probable Mysteron threat to a manufacturing plant halfway between Pittsburgh and Baltimore tasked with making temporary housing for disaster relief for the World Government. Nothing had really seemed to be out of place until Scarlet had suddenly staggered, a hand to his brow, and gasped 'Mysterons!'. Blue had looked up, seen a flare of green light at the top of a support column and yanked the fire alarm seconds before the floor started rippling under their feet. They'd been separated and swept along by the stampede of panicking people and it was only when they got outside that Ochre and Blue, who'd been felled by a chunk of flying debris to the lower leg, realised that Scarlet had been left behind.
With Scarlet lost somewhere inside the rubble, Blue injured outside the rubble and equipped with only his bare hands and a Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle, Ochre had been very glad when International Rescue had turned up just as the dust started settling.
"Scarlet! We're almost there!" Ochre called out, hot on the heels of the IR pilot Virgil as they squirmed through the collapsed building, following the signal of the little emergency beacon that Scarlet had managed to set off.
"Good!" The captain hollered back from his artificial cavern before going into a fresh cry of pain and extended bout of swearing.
"Just let me secure this," Virgil held the Spectrum captain back as he shoved an extending support beam into place to shore up a broken concrete slab above them. "You've got a first aid kit?" He asked. Ochre nodded and hefted the satchel he carried. "I'll do what I can to clear a path," Virgil continued, wedging the support into place with a kick, "call out if you need a stretcher or cutting gear."
With the slab secured, Virgil stepped back and let the captain go ahead into the chamber, as he'd asked earlier.
After ducking under a chunk of I-beam and sliding down into the cramped space, Ochre swore softly when he saw his friend's condition so starkly illuminated by his flashlight- sprawled on the rubble with both legs pinned by debris, Scarlet was also impaled by three steel rebar rods that had punched through his back and out through the left side of his lower abdomen. "Oh that's bad." Ochre grimaced as he knelt beside him and started to slice away the bloodied armour and clothing to get at the wound. "Scarlet, can you move?"
"I'm stuck, it's trying to heal around the rebar!" Scarlet managed to get out in a hoarse whisper, a fresh wave of pain making him cry out and beat ineffectively at the rubble with his fists. "Rick, it hurts!"
Something broke a bit in Ochre at the pleading cry from someone who always seemed so strong, seeing the raw emotion and tears of pain cutting grooves in the thick concrete dust caking Paul's face and hair. Blood was bubbling around the rebar and every time he took a breath it ripped open the wounds his body was diligently trying to heal. "Small wonder Blue always tries to be the one to find him afterwards,'' the thought stole through Richard's mind, "to spare the rest of us this."
"I've got fifteen milligrams of morphine in the bag, how much do you want?" Ochre asked briskly, rummaging in his satchel for supplies as he planned how to get Scarlet out while keeping his secret. A Cloudbase medical helijet would be here soon, he hoped.
"All of it." Was the gasped response.
Ochre blinked and paused, his train of thought screeching to a halt. "But that would be…." He tried to protest.
"Please Rick…" Paul grabbed Richard's arm and looked at him with desperation in his eyes. "Getting me out is going to be even worse."
"S.I.G." Ocher grimaced, shoved his personal feelings aside to deal with later and pulled out the morphine ampoules and IV kit. "Let's make you more comfortable."
Scarlet drew in a quivering breath and shuddered as the first syringe was emptied into his veins by the light of the torch that Ochre had clamped between his cheek and shoulder, relaxed as the second followed it and went completely limp as the third syringe-full of morphine was flushed through with a fourth syringe of saline, blue eyes sliding shut. For a split second Rick thought he'd killed Paul with an overdose, then held his bloodstained hand over Scarlet's mouth and nose and felt the barest stirring of air. "No, he's still breathing."
Scooping up his used equipment and stuffing it back into the satchel, Ochre went back to the entrance of the cave where Virgil was busy with another support as the collapsed building above them creaked and groaned eerily. "You said you had cutting gear?" He asked. "We're going to need that and a stretcher, it's bad. I can get started on the cutting, you get more people to help carry him out."
"F.A.B." Virgil acknowledged and pulled a small object from his pocket. "This is a laser cutter." He explained, pointing to the various components of the pen-shaped device. "On button, beam intensity, beam aperture. You'll be okay getting him out?" He asked as he handed it over, giving the other man a curious, searching look.
"Yes, we're trained for this." Ochre lied smoothly. He had a fair idea of what to do so it wasn't completely untrue- in addition to their training at Koala Base he'd watched firefighters and paramedics do extrications at car accidents plenty of times- he just had to get rid of Virgil for a bit.
"Okay, I'll be back as soon as I can." Virgil promised and started to clamber out of the rubble.
Ochre headed back to the chamber and set to work, pulling at the remains of Scarlet's tunic with one hand just enough to get under him and cut off the rebar as close to Scarlet's back as he could. The block of concrete on his legs was easy- two quick slices with the cutter sheared through the bits of rebar keeping it tangled with the rest of the debris and he could dump the block off to the side easily enough. The damage to Scarlet's legs wasn't nearly as bad as he feared. The left one was broken just below the knee, but the right was intact. A couple of bandages and a foam and aluminium splint from the satchel would deal to the leg, but the abdominal wound was much more complicated. "Should I pull these out…?" Rick wondered out loud as a half-remembered first aid lesson floated back to him- embedded objects had to stay put- but for Scarlet to heal they had to come out.
Erring on the side of 'less complications later, he's already healing' Ochre tugged the bits of steel out. He couldn't help the wince at the sucking sounds the steel made as it came out, then he washed the wounds as best he could and taped a thick dressing over the injury to hide it. Next he rolled Scarlet onto his side and did the same to cover the entry wound, figuring Scarlet would continue healing up and the last thing they needed was witnesses to retrometabolisim's weirdness.
He finished tying the splint into place just as Virgil, preceded by a bright yellow hard plastic stretcher, entered the chamber with two firefighters. "I found some help, Urban Search and Rescue and emergency services have just arrived." Virgil said as he glanced over Ochre's handiwork. "What sort of injuries?" He asked as he and the firefighters manoeuvred the stretcher into position.
"Broken lower left leg, abdo and back wounds and lots of pain relief. Nothing spinal or head, everything else is fine, but that rubble above us doesn't look stable, we need to get going." Ochre handed the laser cutter back to Virgil as he reported, hoping to get them moving before Virgil or the firefighters could think to have a look at the injuries for themselves.
Working together, they manhandled the limp captain onto the stretcher and wrapped him in a thick blanket that the firefighters had brought with them before strapping him into place. Scarlet stirred and groaned at that, but thankfully he passed out again. Getting him out was hard- the machinery below had held up most of the debris, but there were gaps and crevices that could have swallowed any of them whole if they'd misstepped.
As they clambered through the rubble, Ochre couldn't help the nagging feeling that something was off about all this. As far as he was concerned the Mysterons were very fond of the word 'obliterated'- when they destroyed something it usually involved an explosion and turning that something into smoke, ashes and lots of little bits. The Spectrum Maximum Security building was one example that came to mind.
But today the building collapse had felt… slow… for lack of a better word, and the rubble was big- car and truck sized chunks that created a honeycomb of voids. "Like it was supposed to trap people…" Unbidden, the observation floated to the forefront of his mind. Ochre frowned as he mulled it over, but his train of thought was interrupted when one of the firefighters shouted 'We're almost out!'
They emerged into the deepening twilight with their burden. Floodlights had been set up, bathing the area in a harsh white light that made the shadows stand out like they'd been cut from black paper. Rescuers were pulling back from the ruins of the factory now that the last victim was out and the looming bulks of Thunderbirds One and Two at the far end of the carpark were reassuring sentinels silhouetted against the fading pink sunset. The evacuated factory staff had already been sent home just in case the building had any more surprises for them, so surprisingly few people were milling about.
To Ochre's deep relief there was a Spectrum medical helijet parked off to the side with an Angel at the controls- Harmony, he thought, judging by her height and build. Fawn was there too, all but sitting on Blue to keep him in the back of the heli' by the looks of things. The Boston officer had been left with a nasty open fracture in his leg, otherwise he would have been assisting in the search efforts.
The rescue team diverted to the heli' at Ochre's instruction and with ease born of practice they transferred Scarlet to the heli's second stretcher so gently he barely twitched. "Thank you, all of you." Ochre said, honestly grateful as he ushered them away from the heli' as Fawn set to work. "Is there anything else we can do to assist? There's a Spectrum team enroute to secure the scene and start the investigation once it's been cleared by your teams."
"Can they bring some good coffee?" One of the firefighters asked cheekily. "The chief always gets the cheap stuff for the disaster unit."
"I'll see what I can do." Ochre promised.
The two firefighters grinned at him and went on ahead with their reclaimed stretcher to the command centre that had been set up, but Virgil hung back. "I've been to a lot of building collapses." He remarked with what initially appeared to be nonchalance, looking over the disaster zone with a practised eye. "You and your teammates did good work getting everyone out, aside from your colleague there was only one other person trapped and they were almost at the door when it happened."
"Like I said, we train for this." Ochre replied lightly, keeping up a relaxed facade as his brain raced ahead, wondering what the other man was getting at.
"And like I said, I've been to a lot of building collapses." Virgil replied, turning to face Ochre fully and his expression becoming a frown. "The report we got said there was a gas line explosion and this factory is sitting on the biggest underground gas pipeline on the East Coast. Gas leaks are like fuel-air bombs- if it was a minor leak the building should have blown its guts out and sent debris in a half-mile radius at least." Virgil said, waving a hand at the crumpled remains of the factory. "If this pipeline had a major leak there'd be nothing but a smoking crater and the shockwave would have flattened everything for two or three miles. Instead the building is pancaked: the main structural members collapsing in just like a controlled demolition. The only reason it's not fully collapsed is the manufacturing plant machinery holding it up. And the timing is all strange. We got the call about an hour before we arrived, but when we touched down it looked like the building had only just collapsed. What gives here, Captain Ochre?"
"I can't discuss that and you can't ask me." Ochre replied firmly.
"Why not?" A new voice broke in.
Ochre turned to see the other pilot, Scott, approaching him. "We're under orders." Ochre informed him. "We can't discuss ongoing investigations."
The IR field commander frowned at that, but he nodded. Late of the US Air Force, from what Ochre could remember of Spectrum's very limited file on International Rescue, he understood orders. "Our head of intelligence just contacted me, she's on her way here with some information your commander needs to know." Scott explained, eyeing Ochre with a certain suspicion. "She doesn't trust the local Spectrum office to take it seriously so she thought this was the perfect opportunity to pass it on."
As Virgil turned away to talk to Scott, Ochre caught sight of the International Rescue insignia on his dusty sash and suddenly remembered the wording of the Mysteron threat...and Spectrum didn't know anything about a gas line explosion or International Rescue being called. Green had only told him a medical heli' and regular emergency services were enroute. "Virgil, the gas leak, how did you get the report?" Ochre interrupted, urgency colouring his voice.
"A radioed distress call to our monitoring station." Virgil replied, somewhat confused as he looked back to Ochre. "Why?"
"Did the caller give their name?"
"Yes, he said his name was Conrad." Scott butted in, his brow marked by a deep frown. "Why?"
"We need to go, this is a trap!" Ochre ordered. "The threat we got said 'the hand which helps the world shall be cut off at the wrist.' We thought it meant this manufacturing plant for the World Government's 'Hand Up' housing program but I can't think of a better way to cripple International Rescue," Ochre said, pointing to their helping hand insignia and counting the five items out on his fingers, "than by taking out two pilots, two vehicles and the head of intelligence. This was bait to bring you here! Take off now, I'll tell Fire and USAR!"
"But…" Scott tried to protest, but Ochre ran roughshod over him.
"You don't have authority to order an evac, I do. Move!" Ochre snapped, pointing in the direction of their aircraft. "I'll get them out, go! I'm the expendable one here, you're not. Go, that's an order!"
The two IR operatives exchanged glances and reluctantly ran to their craft. Ochre hollered to Harmony to take off and ran to the command post to order them to evacuate as well.
Gunshots rang out just as he approached the collection of vehicles and he stopped short, using the bulk of one of the support vehicles for cover as his hand dipped for his pistol. Six people lay dead on the ground in front of the fire service command truck and he glimpsed at least two more bodies inside the truck, including the two firefighters who had helped him earlier. A barrel-chested, craggy faced man in a fire chief uniform looked over at Ochre with dead eyes as he dropped his spent pistol. "A shame, Earthman." He intoned. "I was about to advise a third person had been detected deep in the factory. But killing you will also serve the purposes of the Mysterons." Smoke started pouring from his collar and Ochre sprinted away, hoping against hope he would be fast enough.
He could hear the whine of the helijet spooling up to take off. This was promptly drowned out by the roar of two sets of engines, then Thunderbird One swooped in above him, a rope ladder hanging from her underbelly. Ochre jumped and latched onto it, clinging for dear life as the craft swept low over the rumpled landscape. Behind them the detonation was a powerful CRRRACCCK and orange light lit up the area in a short lived artificial day as the vehicles in the command centre blew up.
All three craft aimed their noses at a large, empty carpark beside another factory some miles away. Scott's deft piloting allowed Ochre to simply step down from the ladder before One pivoted and slipped sideways to land at a safe distance. His RadioCap lost somewhere along the way, Ochre had to settle for waving at Harmony's approaching heli' to signal he was okay before picking a spot and sitting on the ground before either his rubbery legs or the looming adrenaline crash took the decision to sit away from him. That had been close.
Hydraulics whined somewhere off to his left and Scott emerged from his Thunderbird. Ochre wasn't sure if he was angry, frightened or both as he marched towards him. "Captain Ochre, explain." Scott ordered, full military body language on show with his mouth set in a line, arms crossed, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. The almost involuntary glance up at Thunderbird Two's cockpit told Ochre the real reason for Scott's agitation- he wasn't so much worried for himself, but for his colleague.
As he formed his reply, Ochre realised Scott's open concern and protectiveness actually reminded him a lot of the Scarlet he'd gotten to know at Koala Base, before the Mysterons got to him and the shutters had come down. Paul still cared just as much but he didn't display it so openly now- the smiles had faded, his temper had gotten shorter and he'd retreated into himself. It had taken a long time for the shutters to start to come back up, to the point there was a minor celebration amongst the captains when he'd started teasing and cracking jokes again.
"The Mysterons got the fire chief, he shot everyone else just as I got there." Ochre replied evenly from his spot on the ground, using the same tactics he used on Scarlet when the British officer got his nose out of joint about something- anger met by a void defeated itself, so he didn't rise to the bait. "He was going to lure one or both of you back into the rubble with a false report of someone else in there and then trigger a bomb on his person." He continued. "My guess, he was probably aiming to be in the factory with you so he could set off the gas line with the device and blow up your Thunderbirds at the same time. We weren't supposed to be there but we would have been useful collateral damage." He wasn't going to admit the man was the device until he had White's express permission. "He must have realised his cover was blown and decided to kill everyone there and detonate anyway in the hopes of doing as much damage as possible."
"Why International Rescue?" Came the next question in a classic voice of command, the shoulders squaring back in the blue uniform, but there was a brittleness behind the brass. "We're strictly neutral, no affiliations with any government or military organisation."
"Oh yeah, that's right," Ochre belatedly remembered the other part of the file, "Scott and at least two of International Rescue are suspected to be brothers ." Ochre couldn't decide if it was brave or stupid. He and the others had a hard enough time doing their jobs as a group of colleagues and friends, he couldn't imagine the dangers that IR faced and that some of them were brothers boggled him. "They don't care. The Mysterons don't want to just kill people, they want to hurt people and make people suffer. The more they can hurt, the better." Was his blunt reply to Scott.
In the background he could see that the heli' had landed not too far from the Thunderbirds and Fawn was hurrying towards him with a medical bag in hand.
"Look, I'm about to get dragged off by our doc for a once over," Ochre extended the verbal olive branch, "get your head of intelligence to meet us here and once I get away from the doc I'll get on the line to our commander and see what I can tell you. I'm not being difficult on purpose- there's standing orders. I've got to talk to him first."
"Understood." Scott nodded slowly and walked towards Thunderbird Two to give Fawn and Ochre some privacy and to presumably speak to his colleague and their head of intelligence, his brow once again knitted in thought.
0o0o0
Almost an hour later the conference was held in the back of the helijet that Melody had flown down with Grey, a portable videophone and a clean uniform for Ochre. Harmony had taken off as soon as Melody was enroute, taking Fawn, Scarlet and Blue back to Cloudbase to recover.
Ochre had been surprised but kept his mouth shut when a pink Rolls Royce had shown up- the promised head of intelligence being none other than Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. He shouldn't have been surprised though, he shared a base with Rhapsody- also a Lady and also a secret agent. The most unlikely people could always be counted on to do something unexpected.
Once the link to Cloudbase was secure and the introductions had been made, Colonel White opened the meeting by addressing what he knew would be the first question. "International Rescue should be safe now Lady Penelope, gentlemen." He told them. "By their own code of warfare once an attack has been defeated the Mysterons move on to a different target. I still urge caution however, while I believe this threat is over they may have other plans waiting in the wings and their attempt is not yet complete. The Mysterons have also been known to deliberately aim to cause collateral damage that your people could be caught up in."
"That is useful to know, Colonel White, but I am sure you can guess what my next question must be." Lady Penelope responded, seated in one of the jump seats in the back of the helijet and comporting herself with every ounce of her station. "From our own sources we are already aware that the Mysterons are not a terrorist group as Spectrum has allowed most of the world to believe, but are instead an alien intelligence bent on destruction. International Rescue needs to know how to protect itself. That someone such as a chief in the fire service could be coerced or suborned by the Mysterons is of great concern to us." The two IR pilots behind her weren't quite looming but they were very close to it. This had been aimed squarely at their family and closest friends and neither of them looked ready to back down until they had a satisfactory answer.
"A certain mutual acquaintance has vouched for you with the World President." Colonel White advised her. "I cannot reveal all the details, but I have been authorised to give you the relevant information. This can only be communicated amongst your highest level staff and is not for general dissemination."
At that comment Ochre caught Grey's eye and mouthed "Who?" Grey shook his head and mouthed "Later" in reply. Ochre nodded, but frowned slightly at the information that Lady Penelope possessed. He was very sure that the Colonel would be sending out hunting parties for whoever had let slip to IR about the true nature of the Mysterons as soon as the call was over. Neutral rescue organisation or not, they shouldn't have known about that.
"Through means currently unknown to us, the Mysterons have the ability to first destroy or kill and then create an exact likeness of an object, vehicle or person, occasionally with alterations made to their physical form for the purpose of their mission- such as the fire chief. From Ochre's initial report he was reconstructed to be a living bomb, we've seen this before." White explained to Lady Penelope and the two IR operatives. "A replicant is under the direct control of the Mysterons and will carry out their instructions no matter what. We have discovered that human replicants are impervious to x-ray and vulnerable to extremely high voltage electricity." He paused, clearly weighing up how to phrase the next statement. "For his own safety, I will reveal that we have a former replicant amongst our operatives. All I will say is that your pilots have met him today and I can assure you his trustworthiness has been proved beyond a shadow of a doubt."
"I can assure you this information will be kept closely guarded." Lady Penelope promised. "And now I have certain information for you, Colonel White." She opened her handbag and plucked out a photograph, holding it where it would be picked up by the camera. "I understand one of these gentlemen is a person of interest to Spectrum."
The photo was a shot of two men standing in a park beside a small fountain. The taller man, dark haired and pale under the sunlight, had a briefcase by his feet and was talking with a man with heavy eyebrows, an olive complexion and a hat pulled low over his head.
"The gentleman with the hat is a criminal we know as The Hood." Lady Penelope explained. "I believe the gentleman with the briefcase is known to you as Captain Black."
"He is indeed." Colonel White replied, eyes narrowed in consideration. "May I ask the provenance of this image?"
"I have an extensive network." Penelope began. "We have been following a lead on The Hood for a number of weeks when he had a meeting in Central Park yesterday morning with Captain Black. This information alone would have been worrying, but when taken together with the threat made against International Rescue by the Mysterons, I am deeply concerned."
"As am I." White nodded slowly. "Is there any indication of what might have been in the briefcase?" He asked.
"My agent believes it was payment. The two conferred for quite some time, The Hood gave a thick document wallet to Captain Black and received the briefcase in return. My agent attempted to listen in, but the sound of the fountain masked their conversation." Penelope handed the photo to Ochre and folded her hands in her lap, as unruffled as if she had been discussing the weather.
Colonel White glanced away for a moment, hands steepled before his face and frowning as he considered the information. "The Hood meets with Black, presumably gives him information, and the next day there is a threat against International Rescue, coupled with a faked distress call." He mused out loud. "You would consider the information in the distress call to be sufficient to require International Rescue's involvement?" He directed the question to Scott, standing just behind Lady Penelope.
"Well, yes." Scott replied after a moment's startled pause. "It's not anything we haven't attended before. Virgil?" He looked at Virgil for input.
"Scott's right." Virgil nodded his agreement. "We've been to at least three similar call outs, it seemed completely genuine to us."
"Then it seems that the threat against your organisation may not be finished yet." White scowled. "I know I cannot ask you to not attend calls for aid, but I urge extreme caution and advise having Spectrum agents accompany your operatives for the foreseeable future." He advised.
None of the Spectrum staff present missed the momentary flicker of 'Uh oh' on the two IR pilots' faces. "We'd have to clear anything like that with our commander." Was Scott's diplomatic reply. "Secrecy is critical for our organisation. Under normal circumstances it would be a flat out no, but these aren't normal circumstances."
"It is a sensible suggestion, considering this is an unknown threat. Perhaps a recess is in order?" Penelope glanced between Scott and Colonel White. "I will brief International Rescue's commander and see about having the two of you discuss the matter directly."
"Thank you, Lady Penelope, gentlemen." Colonel White nodded first to her, then the pilots, and ended the call.
Penelope rose from her seat and turned to Scott. "Perhaps we should have this conversation in Thunderbird One?" She suggested.
"Agreed." Scott offered his arm to assist her out of the helijet and walked her across to the privacy of his Thunderbird to contact their home base, while Virgil lingered in the helijet.
"This Captain Black fellow, what's the deal?" Virgil asked, looking between the captains and Melody. "I know he used to be Spectrum and he was on the Mars expedition, our comms officer was keeping close tabs on that one."
Ochre glanced at the other two, got their nods and decided to be as honest as he could, they needed to earn some credibility with IR if they were going to have a chance at protecting them. "He was the one who made the call to your monitoring station. He used to be one of ours, Cloudbase 2IC in fact." Ochre sat down, took his 'cap off and ran a hand through his hair. "We're not sure what happened to him on Mars." He admitted as he replaced his 'cap. "Their ship returned to Earth and the next thing we know he vanishes. A while later we found out he's now the Mysterons' principal agent, doing their bidding."
"He was a good man, oversaw all our training." Melody chimed in. "Even had a hand in selecting and recruiting most of us."
"The replicant your commander mentioned, he was talking about that Scarlet fellow, right?" Virgil asked shrewdly, watching all three of them carefully. "It explains why you insisted on going in after him."
"Yeah." Ochre nodded, preemptively changing the conversation to focus on Scarlet-the-person before it could be about Scarlet-the-replicant. "I think you'd like him if you met him under better conditions. Scott reminds me of him."
"Really?" Virgil looked sceptical, head tilted and one eyebrow raised.
"Protective streak as long as your arm, stubborn streak as long as your leg and a temper, especially if you mess with his people." Ochre grinned tiredly. "Sounds familiar?"
"Ha! Yes actually." Virgil chuckled. "We'd better not leave them alone in the same room, they'll either kill each other or they'll become best friends and start swapping notes."
"Please avoid that." Grey put his two cents in from his post, leaning against the interior wall of the helijet with arms crossed over his chest. "The last thing we need is a more protective Scarlet."
"Is he going to be okay?" Virgil asked next, eyeing the captains in particular. "He looked pretty badly hurt from what I saw, but none of you seem worried about him."
"We have very good medical facilities back on base." Ochre consoled himself that it wasn't quite a lie, discussing retrometabolism outside of those who needed to know was extremely forbidden. "Doctor Fawn and his team know what they're doing."
"Okay, so how are you doing?" Virgil turned those surprisingly perceptive eyes to scrutinise Ochre next. "You've had quite a day- a mission gone sideways, a rescue, two of your friends down, a heck of a close call and it doesn't sound like your day's done just yet."
"I'm used to it. Nature of the job." Ochre replied calmly with a half shrug. "What about you?" He turned the question back on Virgil in the semi-interrogation they were conducting on each other. "I'm guessing you don't normally get people trying to attack you or blow you up."
"We've all been shot down or shot at before, it's less unusual than we'd like." Virgil also shrugged nonchalantly. "It's pretty normal for our missions to go sideways at some point though. Almost getting blown up every now and again is par for the course for us."
"Maybe, but I'm betting it's usually not intentionally." Grey jumped in. "That Hood character, what's his deal?"
"He wants our Thunderbirds and he'll do whatever it takes to get his hands on them." Was the simple reply. "None of us want to find out what he'll do with our technology. He's got leads into all sorts of illegal mining, industrial espionage and sabotage, black market trading, waste dumping, weaponry, you name it. If you want a reason for our secrecy, he's at the top of our list."
"You think Magenta might have some intel about him?" Grey directed that at Ochre.
"Worth asking. Five bucks says the Colonel's already talking to him." Ochre wagered.
"Mm." Grey nodded, arms crossed and drumming the fingers of his right hand against his arm as he mulled over the situation.
In the meantime, Melody had peered out the open door of the helijet to stare at the Thunderbirds with undisguised interest, then ducked back in to look at Virgil. "Say, you thirsty? I've got some water here." She asked, rummaging in the back for the supplies kept there.
"That'd be great, actually." Virgil accepted the bottle of water she passed him and took a seat. "Thanks."
Ochre suppressed the flicker of jealousy at the attention Magnolia was giving Virgil as the two started talking, reminding himself that one, they weren't officially going out, just mutually interested, and two, the Angels had been trained to do exactly this. People tended to talk more easily and freely with the beautiful Angels than with the captains and the five women were skilled in small talk and genial conversations to draw out more than what people intended to give away. Besides, the guy was International Rescue, getting a chance to talk to one of them wasn't something that anyone would pass up.
He leaned out the side door of the heli' to get a look at the two Thunderbirds while Melody chatted with Virgil. He'd seen photos of models that some enterprising types had kitbashed together from eyewitness reports, but to see the two main vehicles in person was something else. Ochre half-smiled to himself, Adam would have loved to have had a chance to get this close to Thunderbird One without the distraction of a broken leg. If he were here the former test pilot would be itching to get a good look at the rocket-plane and grill Scott on how his aircraft handled.
Speaking of whom, Scott appeared from the belly of his Thunderbird, escorting Lady Penelope. He brought her to her car, spoke with her for a moment before her driver took over escort duties, and walked over to the helijet as the Rolls Royce smoothly pulled away. As he got closer, Ochre noted his carefully neutral expression. "That's the face of someone who's either passing on news that he doesn't agree with, just got chewed out or both." Rick mused to himself as he ducked back into the heli' and warned the rest "Scott's on his way back."
"So what's the news, Scott?" Virgil asked as Scott hauled himself up and into the helijet.
"Our commander refuses to allow Spectrum staff anywhere near our vehicles or our base." Scott reported crisply, maintaining a strictly professional tone. "He doesn't believe that Spectrum can be trusted to 'not go poking around' because you're an intelligence organisation."
"But you explained the threat and the danger the Mysterons pose to you?" Ochre frowned, perplexed. Surely that was enough?
"I did, and Lady Penelope did too." Scott frowned for a moment, then regained his professional neutrality. "Our commander's made his decision and come up with a plan. Our communications officer has already gotten in touch with your Lieutenant Green and relayed it to Colonel White: we're going into lock down and leaving as much as we can to local authorities. If we get something that really needs us, he'll alert Lieutenant Green, we'll meet your people at the danger zone and go from there. Lady P is putting her people on high alert so we can get a heads up if there's something in the works."
"Sounds pretty cumbersome to me." Grey opinioned. "I get you can't just shut up shop, people still need you, but…"
"Like I said, it's not my call to make but the decision is final." Scott cut him off, then sighed with no small amount of frustration. "Sorry, I'm just the messenger. We had to tell him about your guy, the former replicant, and he wasn't happy about the chances of him being near us. He doesn't trust Spectrum and he really doesn't trust your officer." He looked at Virgil. "We have to get back to base, he's called an urgent meeting- all hands, including Rescue Five, Lady P was at least able to get him to agree to that."
"F.A.B." Virgil nodded and got to his feet. "Thanks for the water." He said as he went to the door, taking the bottle with him. Ochre had half-hoped he'd leave it behind so they could test for DNA and confirm his identity, but evidently he was wise to that.
The three Spectrum staff leaned out the heli' side door to watch as the IR pilots boarded their ships and took off, Thunderbird Two waggling her wings in farewell before vanishing into the night with a flare of her engines.
"So...flip a coin for who gets to call the Old Man?" Ochre asked Grey as they stowed the videophone and Melody started the pre-checks. He pulled a coin from his vest pocket. "Call it?"
"Nope." Grey shook his head. "Knowing you, that's probably one of your trick coins and with Scarlet and Blue down you're lead agent for the mission. Besides, I'm co-piloting, so that leaves you free to concentrate on the call." Brad was not a little bit smug as he took his place beside Melody.
Ochre grumbled, pocketed the coin and strapped in for take off. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation with the colonel.