VIRGIL felt the sweat trickle from his brow as he watched his instruments nervously. The long trestle bridge that he had Thunderbird 2 hovering over was growing weaker by the second as its supports began to buckle one by one. The cables he was using to try and keep it in place were only going to hold it for so long as the weight of the five-car train sitting on top of the bridge wasn't helping.
"Scott…I don't want to pressure you but, HURRY UP!"
"Calm yourself, Virgil!" Scott answered from Thunderbird 1. "If I pull too hard the bridge will go for sure!"
Whilst Thunderbird 2 was holding the bridge in place, Thunderbird 1 was using its tow cable to gently pull the stricken train forwards towards the edge of the Grand Canyon. But with the train stuck out three spans from the end, it was taking a while to get there and every second made the bridge weaker. Inch by inch, Scott pulled the train closer to the end and solid ground, but then as they crossed onto the final span, the support tower underneath buckled and began to break. It twisted and the entire bridge lurched causing it to drop and the train to dip down causing the passengers to scream in terror.
"Oh, no!" Scott cried. "The trestle! IT'S GONNA GO!"
5!
4!
3!
2!
1!
"Thunderbirds Are Go!"
"LOST FLIGHT"
"SCOTT, FULL POWER!" shouted Virgil.
"BUT THE BRIDGE MIGHT-"
"NOT MIGHT, IT'S GOING! GET THEM OFF!"
Scott gritted his teeth and pushed Thunderbird 1 to full power. The rocket surged forwards pulling the heavy train up the now tilted bridge. Within seconds it reached the ground but the angle caused it to derail. All five carriages jumped off the mag-lev track and crashed hard on the solid ground. However they all stayed upright and didn't roll far from the track. At the same time, Virgil released the cables he was using to hold up the bridge. With a screeching of metal, the towers broke one by one and the five-span trestle bridge collapsed into the canyon below, smashing into several more pieces as it hit the floor.
The doors of the carriages opened as the stewards began to assist the frightened but grateful passengers out of the train. Everyone was shaken up but luckily there were no casualties as the Emergency Services raced to the scene to take care of them.
After making sure everyone was accounted for and safe, the International Rescue craft took off from the scene and began to make their way back towards Tracy Island.
"Hey, Virg, I'm running a little low on gas," Scott said. "I'm gonna head straight back."
"No problem, Thunderbird 1," replied Virgil. "You go ahead. Maybe this time you'll be in and out of the shower by the time I get back."
Scott frowned. "You've got an en-suite, Virgil! We all have!"
Virgil laughed. "I never said I wanted to use it," he teased. "With all that gel you use I'm surprised you haven't slipped up in there yet."
"Ha…ha…" retorted Scott. "See you back home."
Virgil grinned as he watched Thunderbird 1 shoot away and disappear from view. "Oh, Scotty," he said to himself. "He just can't take a joke." He glanced down at his radar screen and watched as the small dot that showed him where Thunderbird 1 eventually reached the end of the scope and disappeared. Now there was nothing around him for miles in the air.
The clear scope remained that way as he crossed the United States and then crossed the coastline to start flying over the Pacific Ocean. Up until this point the weather had been bright, sunny and clear, but his attention was soon drawn to a fierce cloud bank forming over the ocean.
"Hmmm, don't like the look of that," Virgil said to himself. Then he thought. "Actually, I don't recall it being bad out here today. Better check with John." He flicked a switch. "Thunderbird 2 to Thunderbird 5. Do you read me?"
John's hologram appeared from the projector in the control console. "Go ahead, Thunderbird 2. Good job with the train rescue."
"Thanks, but that's not why I'm calling," Virgil said. "Can you check the weather reports for the area that I'm in? I don't remember there being any storms of thick clouds being forecast for today."
"Certainly," said John. "Stand-by." There were a few moments of silence as he checked the reports. "No storms but definitely some thick clouds building up in that area," he said. "You might want to fly above or even around it."
"F-A-B," said Virgil. "I know Thunderbird 2 can handle it, but I prefer to be able to see where I am going. Thanks, John."
"F-A-B," smiled John and the hologram turned off.
Virgil checked the radar screen again. The skies were still clear and Thunderbird 2 was the only aircraft around. He settled back and smiled as he adjusted the steering controls to gain some altitude so he could fly over the clouds. It was as he was doing this that a small flash of light caught his eye. He blinked and turned his head a little to the right. One of the darker clouds was flashing like a light bulb was on the fritz. He'd seen this kind of thing before in a cloud. It was the kind where lightning was produced from. He frowned and brought his ship back to level flying before slowing down to observe. The flashing continued for a few seconds before stopping and returning to normal like nothing had happened. Virgil watched and waited. Sometimes there'd be periods of quiet before it occurred again. However, nothing happened.
"Thunderbird 5, I thought you said there were no storms in the area?" Virgil said after contacting the space-station again.
"I did, Virgil," John replied. "Is something the matter?"
Virgil looked back out at the clouds. "Hmmm. Maybe I was just imagining things," he said. "I saw one of the clouds flashing like there was a lightning storm. But now it's all gone quiet."
John was about to reply when a small beep made Virgil's eyes dart to the radar screen. He blinked in confusion as there was now a small contact registering within the clouds - in around the same area that he'd seen the flickering light from.
"What is it, Virgil?" asked John.
"John, can you run a scan of the area and see what else is flying around here?"
John did so, which only added to the confusion. "Nothing, Thunderbird 2. You're the only aircraft in the area. There's nothing else."
Virgil frowned and looked back at his screen. "Well according to my radar there's something in the clouds," he said. He thought for a moment, then made a decision. "I'm going to take a look," he said and turned Thunderbird 2 towards the cloudbank.
"Be careful, Virgil," warned John. "I'm not picking anything up. It could be a glitch with your radar."
"Maybe it is," Virgil replied. "But I just want to be sure."
Thunderbird 2 entered the clouds and Virgil slowed his craft down. The visibility became greatly reduced once inside and he was having to use the signal on the radar screen as a reference to point himself in the right direction.
For the next few minutes, nothing seemed to come of Virgil's search through the clouds, but then as he passed through a thick one, things opened out a little and the visibility improved a little. He looked over to the right as he saw from the scope that's where the contact was showing. He then caught sight of what it was and blinked in astonishment. There was an aircraft flying about eight-hundred yards away off the starboard side of Thunderbird 2. It was small, about the same size as Thunderbird 2 and was easily an airliner. But it wasn't an airliner that he would have expected to see. It was painted mostly white with a red strip along its fuselage. It didn't match any airline that he was familiar with. The plane itself looked kind of ancient as well, and that theory was quickly proven when he saw that it had four propeller-powered engines instead of jets.
"Jeepers!" Virgil remarked. "Thunderbird 5, I've found the contact."
"What do you see?" John asked.
"You're not gonna believe this," Virgil said. "But it's a DC-4."
John stared at his older brother. "A Douglas DC-4?" he asked.
Virgil nodded. "Yep. That be the one," he said.
"But that's impossible," John protested. "There aren't surviving examples flying anywhere in the world - commercial or preserved."
"I know, John," said Virgil. "It's crazy, but I can see it. And it's showing up on my radar screen."
"Well…" said John, who was struggling to come up with whatever he wanted to say next. "It isn't showing up on mine. What state is it in?"
Virgil tried to get a closer look of the mysterious airliner but was careful not to get too close in case he accidentally caused a mid-air collision. Thunderbird 2 was a very robust aircraft and would likely survive such an incident, but the DC-4 wouldn't stand a chance and would be obliterated, killing whoever was aboard instantly and that was not something he was prepared to be responsible for. Given the cloud conditions they were flying through, a collision was very possible. "It looks to be in good condition," he said. "Although I can only guess that they're lost given how it keeps changing course erratically."
"Maybe their instruments aren't working," said John. "Perhaps it is a DC-4 that's been restored to flying order and we haven't heard about it."
"I'm sure we would have done," said Virgil. "That would be big news. I'm going to try and make contact with them and see what the situation is."
"Good luck," said John. "I'll keep monitoring and see if I can find it on my scope. Could be the clouds causing problems for me and you've only detected it due to range."
"Maybe," said Virgil. "I'll let you know what comes up." He then adjusted some controls and then took a look out at the DC-4. He paused whilst he composed himself and then began to speak into the radio, hoping that he was not about to make a fool of himself. "Unidentified aircraft off my starboard side, this is International Rescue. Please acknowledge me?" He waited for a response to come from the airliner, but none came. "I repeat - unidentified aircraft off my starboard side. Are you receiving me?"
A few more moments of silence followed before a crackle was heard over the radio. "H-Hello?" said a slightly timid-sounding voice over the radio. "W-Who is this?"
"This is International Rescue," Virgil said. "I have come across your aircraft but am having trouble with identification. Can you identify yourself for me, please?"
"Errrrrrrrrrrrr," said the voice over the radio. "This is Pan American Airways Flight 914 out of LaGuardia Airport en-route to Miami. We entered a fierce storm about an hour ago and now we seem to have lost our bearings. Who did you say you were?"
"This is International Rescue, Thunderbird 2," Virgil said. "If you're in trouble, I'm here to assist you."
"Oh, thank lord," said the pilot. "We sure could use some help. Our instruments are going haywire and we have no idea where we are."
That's an understatement, Virgil thought. "Give me a second. I need to inform my supervisor of the situation," he told the pilot. "Keep flying straight and level. I'll get back to you in a moment."
"Roger," said the pilot. "Please don't leave us."
"Don't worry, I won't," Virgil promised. He then put the communications link on hold whilst he spoke to John. "Did you hear all that, John?" he asked in a hushed tone.
"Heard and am trying to believe it," John answered.
"I didn't think Pan American Airways were operating anymore?" Virgil asked.
"They aren't," said John. "Which means there's something very wrong about this situation."
"Not to mention they're thousands of miles away from where they should be," added Virgil. "New York to Miami is on the other side of the States!"
"I've checked the schematics and technical data of the DC-4," said John. "There is absolutely no way that one of those could get from either Miami or New York on one tank of fuel. Either it's running on fumes or-" He broke off abruptly.
"Or what?" asked Virgil.
"In all honesty, I haven't a clue, Virgil," John said. "I am totally stumped by this one."
Virgil bit his lip. "They seem distressed," he remarked. "I'm going to try and get them to safety - after I help them escape this cloudbank." He turned his attention back to the DC-4. "914 from Thunderbird 2. Do you read?"
"Loud and clear, Thunderbird 2," answered the pilot. "So what's the plan? How far are we from Miami?"
Virgil hesitated. This was going to be a tricky question to answer, and he wasn't sure if the truth was going to be the right thing to say. However, he also knew that lying could make things worse in the long run. He decided with a heavy heart to tell the pilot the horrible truth. "You're nowhere near Miami," he said. "We're over the Pacific Ocean - just off the coast of California."
There was a moment of confused silence before the pilot spoke again. "California? What the hell are you talking about? We can't cross the entire goddamn United States in an hour? We also don't have the fuel capacity for that kind of journey!"
"I don't have all the answers, 914," Virgil said. "I don't know how you could have gotten here either. I can only suggest that we get you to turn back and land at the closest airport. Then we can figure out what has happened."
"Listen, pal," said the pilot, now sounding aggressive. "I am telling you for a fact, there is NO way that we can be over the Pacific! And who even is International Rescue? I've never heard of you. Nor has my co-pilot! I don't know what kind of prank you're playing here, Mister, but-"
"I'm not playing!" Virgil snapped. "If you want proof of my existence, look to your left. I'm coming to fly alongside you." He increased Thunderbird 2's speed and brought his craft forwards until it was flying straight and level with the DC-4. He then waited to hear the response from the pilot. But what he heard was not what he was expecting.
"HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!"
"IS THAT ALIENS?!"
"WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?!"
"OH, MY GOD! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"
Virgil quickly suspected that the majority of the terrified voices he was hearing were probably the passengers. It was like the cockpit door was open or something. Clearly they were somewhat spooked by his sudden appearance. "G-Guys, guys, GUYS!" Virgil tried to make himself heard. "I'M HERE TO HELP YOU!"
But his words fell on deaf ears as he then heard the voice of who he presumed was the co-pilot shout at the pilot. "GET US OUT OF HERE!"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING!" the pilot was heard to shout back.
Virgil then noticed the airliner make a sharp turn to the right and began to bank away from Thunderbird 2 before starting to climb up towards a thick cloud above.
"GUYS, WAIT! STOP!" Virgil shouted. "COME BACK! I'M NOT A-"
Virgil never got to finish whatever it was he was going to say for at that very moment, the DC-4 entered the cloudbank which immediately began to flash with a bright white light and emit bolts of lightning, just like he'd seen earlier before the aircraft had appeared on his screen. This time however he could see the bolts of lightning, but those were quickly wiped from his thoughts when he heard the sounds of terrified screams coming over the radio.
"AHHHHH! NO! HELP US SOMEONE!"
"OH, GOD! WE'RE GOING AGAIN!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Without a moment of hesitation, Virgil banked Thunderbird 2 up towards the flashing cloud and pushed the thrusters to full power. "HANG ON! I'M COMING! I'M COMING!"
Thunderbird 2 rocketed into the cloud. For a few seconds he found himself engulfed in the flashing white light, and then it was gone.
Thunderbird 2 burst out of the cloudbank and up into a clear blue sky and Virgil, who was already having to shield his eyes from the flashing light, was almost blinded by the searing light from the Sun. he slowed Thunderbird 2 right down and turned it around to begin searching for the airliner. But the airliner was nowhere to be seen - and nor was the great mass of cloud anywhere to be seen either. All he could see around him were clear skies and the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean.
Confused, Virgil looked back at his radar scope. Nothing. There were no contacts anywhere for miles - just like it had been before.
"Virgil? Virgil!"
Virgil snapped back to reality and saw John's concerned-looking hologram looking back at him. "J-John?"
"Virgil, are you okay?" John asked. "What happened? Where's the DC-4?"
Virgil didn't answer. He had no answer. He looked back at the radar screen but it still showed nothing nearby. "Thunderbird 2 returning to base," he said instead and cut the transmission before setting his ship on a course to Tracy Island.
John was also left bewildered. It wasn't like Virgil to cut a transmission like that, nor had he ever seen his brother look so troubled by anything. There's something not right here, John thought to himself as he began to pull up a Search Engine. What was it he saw? I'm gonna get to the bottom of this.
Tracy Island soon came into view. Without a word, Virgil landed his ship on the runway and taxied into the hangar. Normally he would make sure everything was properly stowed away after use, but this time he set the automatic controls and left the ship at the earliest opportunity. He changed from his uniform back into regular clothes and made his way up to the villa. He wanted to go straight to bed and tried to sneak through the house without being noticed. However, as he got halfway up the stairs, he stopped at the realisation there was someone standing at the top. As soon as the legs came into view, he recognised the unmistakable purple tracksuit that belonged to Grandma.
"Where are you going, young man?" Grandma asked.
"Uhhhh…bed?" Virgil replied lamely.
Grandma walked down to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Not until we get to the bottom of what you've been through," she said and turned him around to head back down the stairs.
They walked into the lounge to find a freshly-showered Scott along with Jeff and John's hologram.
"Son," Jeff said, getting up and taking his second-eldest son in his arms. "Are you okay?"
Virgil wasn't afraid to hide his true feelings from his brothers if he ever wanted, but Jeff and Grandma he could not. So with tears in his eyes, he said "No. No, I'm not. And before anyone asks, I can't explain what I saw out there. That aircraft was real. I could see it. It was on my radar. I was talking to the pilot. And then it went into a cloud and…was gone. The screams." He buried his head in his hands. "Oh, God, the screams!"
"Shhh, it's okay, Virgil," said Jeff. "There was nothing you could have done for them. They were out of time."
"Literally," Scott remarked but he got a stern look from Grandma.
Virgil looked even more confused. "What do you mean, out of time?" he asked.
Jeff turned to John's hologram. "Go ahead, John. tell Virgil what you found out."
"After you lost the plane, I started to do some research," John explained. "Turns out there really was a Flight 914 that took off from New York to Miami on 2nd July 1955 and it disappeared shortly after take-off."
Virgil felt a horrible shiver run through his veins. "You…You mean…You mean I saw…a Ghost Plane?"
"Not exactly," said John. "You managed to gain radio contact with it and were able to talk to those onboard. And you're not the first to have done so. There were reports that on the 2nd September 1992 it turned up at Simon Bolivar Airport in Venezuela. Air Traffic Control were in contact with the plane and were in the proceeds of guiding it into land when it's reported that once the plane came into view, the crew got alarmed when they saw all the modern aircraft around and then turned away into a cloudbank and weren't seen again."
"Just like when they saw Thunderbird 2," said Virgil. "From the moment I came into view, they started screaming and then they turned away into the clouds. And that's where they disappeared."
"Whatever was in those clouds must have been some kind of time-portal," said John. "I know we can't prove that in any way but I can only guess that the plane and its people have been on a journey through time or somehow."
"John, that's just crazy," said Scott. "Time-slips and such are just theories….aren't they?"
"Do you have a better explanation for how this aircraft came to be within visual sight of Thunderbird 2 then, Scott?" asked Jeff.
Scott fell silent as he knew he did not. Instead he hung his head remorsefully.
Virgil turned away and walked out without a word.
"Vir-" began Jeff but Grandma stopped him.
"Let him go," Grandma said. "He needs time to process all of this."
Jeff hung his head and let out a sad sigh whilst Scott and John exchanged sorrow looks.
Virgil wasn't seen for several hours. Eventually Scott managed to locate him sitting down on the beach. He was looking out across the ocean. Scott didn't need to ask what was on his mind. He could probably guess. "Hey, Virg?"
Virgil jumped out of his trance. "Oh! Scott, hey. I didn't hear you coming. Sorry."
"Don't apologise, it's fine," replied Scott. "I know this is probably a stupid question but - how are you feeling?"
Virgil exhaled. "I'll be okay, Scott," he answered. "It might take a few days to get my head back in its proper state but I'll get there." He fell silent and looked back out across the water as the waves broke against the shore.
"Thinking about the people on that plane?" Scott asked, although he felt that Virgil was going to shout at him for it.
"Yeah…" Virgil replied. "I'm just wondering what god-awful anomaly could have happened to have caused them so much terror. How did they get to where they were? And…where could they be now?"
Scott came and sat next to his brother. "I don't have the answers to that, Virgil," he said. "I doubt we'll ever know. But wherever they've ended up - I hope they're at peace."
Virgil didn't say anything. But with a nod of his head, he could not have agreed more.
THE END
