A decision that Sally Tracy remembered
There was a decision that Sally Tracy remembered.
It was barely five weeks after Jeff's crash (though it wasn't accurate it was easier to say that than 'explosion') and four days after the memorial service. They'd wanted a private service but Jeff had been many things in his life- father, friend, squad mate, crew mate, businessman, philanthropist, and for a short time the commander of International Rescue. Many people had been touched by his life and many people wanted to honour him.
The speeches had been made, salutes and flags exchanged and the world media greedily drank their fill of the sight of the five orphaned sons and their sole living grandparent all lined up beside the empty coffin. When it was all over they'd made their escape back home to the island- their sanctuary and refuge.
But even though the house was full, you wouldn't know it from the heavy silence that lay upon it.
She'd been puttering in the kitchen, that was the only word for it really, when she heard the holophone chime upstairs, where Scott was working on something. She wasn't able to catch any words, but when she heard the sharp-edged tones of Scott's tightly controlled fury she put down the jars she was sorting and went upstairs to see what had set off her eldest grandson like that.
Scott was standing as he glared down at the caller, his fists braced on the smooth surface of the desk, eyebrows drawn close together in a dark scowl and lips thinned. Sally paused beside the portraits to look at him again. To her eyes Scott looked so much like Jeff in this moment- more than just the physical resemblance, she could see in him the stubbornness and will that had carried Jeff through the most treacherous corners of the solar system. She could also see Lucille in him too- the same fire and steel that gave her strength now stiffening Scott's spine.
"My father's funeral wasn't even a week ago and you want us to hand over his legacy to the GDF?" He asked in a deadly quiet voice, his ire directed at the image of a dark-haired man in a GDF uniform. "You're suggesting that us, his family, who have been there every step along the way when he designed and built the Thunderbirds and International Rescue, aren't fit to continue his work?"
"It's such a burden for such young men, we feel it would be better for people specifically trained and experienced…" The man started to explain. His voice reminded her of a career politician- not one of the good ones, but one those ones who could pull double duty as a dodgy salesperson with contracts full of hooks and sneaky charges.
"We are already trained and experienced in maintaining and operating the Thunderbirds." Scott snapped back at him. "Whoever you have at the GDF would have to start from scratch- the training for the Thunderbirds alone would take a year at least, then they'd have to learn how to use the rescue equipment and the maintenance for everything. And as for age," He snorted in disdain. "The air force had no problems with putting me in a multi million dollar jet with enough firepower to put a serious hole in a city when I was 19. NASA had no problems with putting John in charge of one of their rockets or observatories when he was the same age. That was years ago and we've surpassed all of the GDF's requirements to begin and operate International Rescue." He paused to draw a breath, his eyes hardening as he glared at the insufferable man talking at him.
Sally could see the instant when the decision was made- a hardening behind his eyes and shoulders squaring, straightening up to stand tall and confident like Jeff would.
"Starting next month, International Rescue will be continuing to operate our coordination of local resources and overwatch of orbital activity. We will be resuming full operations next year, when we have the GDF's required three pilot minimum available." Scott declared, the voice of command ringing from every word. "In the meantime I am not handing over the Thunderbirds and I am not shutting down International Rescue. That is final." Scott flicked his hand and dismissed the call. He stayed standing for a moment longer, then collapsed into the chair, head in his hands
No one had dared discuss it yet- if International Rescue would or even could continue flying without Jeff at the helm. Sally smiled softly despite her grief- her son's dream would continue. She crossed the room and laid one hand on Scott's shoulder. "Good work kiddo." She told him, her voice gentle and reassuring.
"Is it the right decision?" Scott asked, not looking up at her. "I mean… it's not just my call to make."
"You know what everyone else would say: they want to continue on your father's work." She smiled at him again and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You have good instincts Scott, that's why your father wanted you to be the field commander."
"Thanks Grandma." Scott lifted his head and gave her a weak smile, then sighed tiredly and turned back to the list of emails waiting for his attention. "I'd better get back to this." He gestured at the interface to bring up the first one, but Sally reached out and hit the off button on the projector.
"That's enough of that for now." She declared firmly. "Go downstairs and get Virgil, Kyrano and Brains, I think it's time for campfire hot chocolate."
"Yes Grandma." Too emotionally exhausted to argue, Scott nodded and rose from his chair.
While he went to the lift, Sally made her way upstairs to John's room where the second eldest was ensconced with the youngest- Alan hadn't slept the night through in weeks, exhausted beyond his limits he'd finally crashed out while curled up with John. She tapped on the door and cracked it open, seeing John quickly deactivate the projector beside his bed.
"You were listening?" She asked quietly, mindful of Alan half lying on top of John, the two brothers swathed in blankets and huddled close.
"Yes." John's voice was little more than a murmur. He'd barely spoken more than two or three words at a time ever since the search officially ended two weeks ago.
"Wake Alan in a few minutes and come down to the beach, we're having campfire hot chocolate." She told him. "Afterwards, be a dear and find out who that awful man was. Make sure he never calls us again, would you?" She had zero compunctions about unleashing her second grandson on that man. If she knew her second grandson, John had been intending to take care of him with or without her direction.
She could hear the hint of amusement in John's quiet reply. "Yes, Grandma."