Flight Deck
With an effort I forced my eyes downward so I couldn't compromise the organisation that had just saved my life.
All my good intentions went out the window when I heard another voice. "Took you long enough, Gordon."
They'd been spoken by a man largely hidden by the pilots seat. All I could make out was his brown hair. He was concentrating on keeping his craft steady and hadn't seen me.
'Gordon' cleared his throat. "Ah, I ran into a bit of a problem." He winked at me.
"What's tha..." the pilot turned and saw me, his words dying in his throat. "What are you playing at?" he calmly asked his colleague before turning back to his instruments.
"There weren't enough seats." Gordon said lamely.
"There should have been at least three spare." The pilot continued. "Were we given the wrong information?"
"No." Gordon said. "It's just that some of the passengers are rather well-endowed, shall I say, and took up two seats."
"Oh." Was the quiet answer. "And the medical bay?"
"Full of the injured and the ships medical crew have all the seats."
The pilot sighed. "What do you think Fa... base will say about this?"
"We could always not tell them." Gordon said brightly, but not too hopefully. "And anyway, um, I'm sorry I don't know your name."
"Chris. Chris Brown."
"Chris has agreed to keep this all secret. And anyway I think, um, base will be more annoyed if someone got injured because we didn't have a safety harness on them."
"I wouldn't be too happy about it either." I piped up and then wished I hadn't spoken.
"If it goes wrong I'll take the blame." Said Gordon.
"I guess we can't hang around here discussing it." The pilot said. "Get Chris belted in, and make sure your harness is firm too. We're in for a rough ride!"
Gordon directed me to a nearby chair and ensured my harness was tight. He was just adjusting his own when...
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two."
The pilot gave a quiet groan. "Thunderbird Two." He replied cautiously.
"How's it going Virgil?"
I could hear the anguish in 'Virgil's' voice. We've had a slight hiccup. We've run out of seating in the passenger hold..."
"How many are you short?" the voice of Thunderbird One asked anxiously.
"One."
"One? Where are they?"
Virgil cleared his throat. "Here, on the flight deck."
"What! But Virg..." Thunderbird One clearly became aware of their predicament. "So they're listening to us now."
"Yes."
"I'm trying not to." I told Gordon. "Maybe if you got me some earplugs."
"I know. Don't worry about it." He acknowledged.
"What about the medical bay?" Thunderbird One was asking.
"Full."
"And there's definitely no room in the hold."
"Definitely. We've covered that."
A thought came to me and I fished about in my pocket. "Look. This is the only thing I managed to salvage from the ship." I held out my camera. "It's got all my photos of the cruise on it, but if it'll make you feel better about trusting me I'll let you keep it." I gave it to Gordon.
He looked at the camera and then at Virgil, who was peering around the edge of his seat.
"You can check," I added, "I haven't taken anything of International Rescue. It's a digital."
"What's happening?" Thunderbird One asked.
"It's okay. I think we can trust Chris." Virgil told him.
"Chris? Oh your passenger."
"Gaining height now." Virgil stated.
This time I had little impression of any change in altitude, so smooth was the ascension.
The rain beating on the cabin windows made it impossible to get any external bearings on our height.
Gordon carefully placed my camera into an adjacent locker and then lowered a video screen down from the ceiling. "Let's see what's happening with your ship." He said.
The image was surreal. "We're using special cameras to see through the rain." Gordon explained. "They've also got to be able to zoom in. We're climbing at a high rate of knots."
The 'Golden Empress' was rolling like a toy in a bathtub.
"What happened to the stabilisers?" Gordon asked.
"I don't know. We weren't told anything..."
My words trailed off as I was gripped by the scene playing in front of my eyes, via the video screen. The 'Golden Empress' was going down.
I was reminded of the old 'Titanic' movies as the ship split in two. Both the bow and the stern were raised skywards before the stern was broadsided by a wave and rolled under the water.
The bow held it's ground for a moment before sliding vertically to the oceans depths.
There was a moments silence in the cabin as if we were paying our last respects.
"Sad." Gordon broke the relative quiet. "I hate to see a boat go down." I couldn't find any words to reply with and after a moment he continued. "On the plus side at least this new sea water fuel will prevent a major environmental catastrophe." He spoke as one who had an affinity with the sea. Then he looked at me. "I'm sorry. You've lost everything that was on board."
I shrugged. "Everything was new, but it was covered by insurance. The main thing was that you guys got everyone out alive. I'm grateful and I'm sure everyone else is too..."
"Well," Virgil said, "time we got out of here."
But it wasn't going to be that easy.
With an effort I forced my eyes downward so I couldn't compromise the organisation that had just saved my life.
All my good intentions went out the window when I heard another voice. "Took you long enough, Gordon."
They'd been spoken by a man largely hidden by the pilots seat. All I could make out was his brown hair. He was concentrating on keeping his craft steady and hadn't seen me.
'Gordon' cleared his throat. "Ah, I ran into a bit of a problem." He winked at me.
"What's tha..." the pilot turned and saw me, his words dying in his throat. "What are you playing at?" he calmly asked his colleague before turning back to his instruments.
"There weren't enough seats." Gordon said lamely.
"There should have been at least three spare." The pilot continued. "Were we given the wrong information?"
"No." Gordon said. "It's just that some of the passengers are rather well-endowed, shall I say, and took up two seats."
"Oh." Was the quiet answer. "And the medical bay?"
"Full of the injured and the ships medical crew have all the seats."
The pilot sighed. "What do you think Fa... base will say about this?"
"We could always not tell them." Gordon said brightly, but not too hopefully. "And anyway, um, I'm sorry I don't know your name."
"Chris. Chris Brown."
"Chris has agreed to keep this all secret. And anyway I think, um, base will be more annoyed if someone got injured because we didn't have a safety harness on them."
"I wouldn't be too happy about it either." I piped up and then wished I hadn't spoken.
"If it goes wrong I'll take the blame." Said Gordon.
"I guess we can't hang around here discussing it." The pilot said. "Get Chris belted in, and make sure your harness is firm too. We're in for a rough ride!"
Gordon directed me to a nearby chair and ensured my harness was tight. He was just adjusting his own when...
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two."
The pilot gave a quiet groan. "Thunderbird Two." He replied cautiously.
"How's it going Virgil?"
I could hear the anguish in 'Virgil's' voice. We've had a slight hiccup. We've run out of seating in the passenger hold..."
"How many are you short?" the voice of Thunderbird One asked anxiously.
"One."
"One? Where are they?"
Virgil cleared his throat. "Here, on the flight deck."
"What! But Virg..." Thunderbird One clearly became aware of their predicament. "So they're listening to us now."
"Yes."
"I'm trying not to." I told Gordon. "Maybe if you got me some earplugs."
"I know. Don't worry about it." He acknowledged.
"What about the medical bay?" Thunderbird One was asking.
"Full."
"And there's definitely no room in the hold."
"Definitely. We've covered that."
A thought came to me and I fished about in my pocket. "Look. This is the only thing I managed to salvage from the ship." I held out my camera. "It's got all my photos of the cruise on it, but if it'll make you feel better about trusting me I'll let you keep it." I gave it to Gordon.
He looked at the camera and then at Virgil, who was peering around the edge of his seat.
"You can check," I added, "I haven't taken anything of International Rescue. It's a digital."
"What's happening?" Thunderbird One asked.
"It's okay. I think we can trust Chris." Virgil told him.
"Chris? Oh your passenger."
"Gaining height now." Virgil stated.
This time I had little impression of any change in altitude, so smooth was the ascension.
The rain beating on the cabin windows made it impossible to get any external bearings on our height.
Gordon carefully placed my camera into an adjacent locker and then lowered a video screen down from the ceiling. "Let's see what's happening with your ship." He said.
The image was surreal. "We're using special cameras to see through the rain." Gordon explained. "They've also got to be able to zoom in. We're climbing at a high rate of knots."
The 'Golden Empress' was rolling like a toy in a bathtub.
"What happened to the stabilisers?" Gordon asked.
"I don't know. We weren't told anything..."
My words trailed off as I was gripped by the scene playing in front of my eyes, via the video screen. The 'Golden Empress' was going down.
I was reminded of the old 'Titanic' movies as the ship split in two. Both the bow and the stern were raised skywards before the stern was broadsided by a wave and rolled under the water.
The bow held it's ground for a moment before sliding vertically to the oceans depths.
There was a moments silence in the cabin as if we were paying our last respects.
"Sad." Gordon broke the relative quiet. "I hate to see a boat go down." I couldn't find any words to reply with and after a moment he continued. "On the plus side at least this new sea water fuel will prevent a major environmental catastrophe." He spoke as one who had an affinity with the sea. Then he looked at me. "I'm sorry. You've lost everything that was on board."
I shrugged. "Everything was new, but it was covered by insurance. The main thing was that you guys got everyone out alive. I'm grateful and I'm sure everyone else is too..."
"Well," Virgil said, "time we got out of here."
But it wasn't going to be that easy.