Fifty Three - BF
From his seat in the pilot's chair of Thunderbird Two, Gordon looked across at Thunderbird One. That Scott had managed to safely fly her this far was amazing. That there was now no way to land her was unthinkable.
For some reason, a catch phrase of a decades old TV show sprang to mind.
"Beam me up Scotty."
He hadn't realised that he'd actually vocalised it and was surprised when Virgil answered. "Yeah. It would simplify things wouldn't it."
"Except that you'd be left here unable to land Thunderbird Two."
"That would be a problem."
***
Mrs Tracy was staring up at the rocket plane that held two of her grandsons. "He's flown so far. We can't stop now." She turned back to Jeff. "Surely it won't be that hard for him to land it himself... would it?" she finished uncertainly.
"I don't know mother. Scott is... was... is a good pilot, but to land with no instrumentation..."
"The early aviation pioneers didn't have instrumentation." She persisted stubbornly.
"No." Jeff agreed. "But they could see where they were in relation to the ground." He looked over at the giant green bulk that was Thunderbird Two. "I wish they'd tell us what's..."
"We're still waiting for ideas." Scott's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"M-Mr Tracy." Brains said differentially. "I-I think Mrs Tracy may have the best solution at this time. There is no one else here able to u-undertake an air-to-air transfer."
Jeff mulled it over for a moment. "Brains. Get everyone into the shelters." He said quietly before raising the microphone. He now spoke with more assurance, "Scott!"
"Yes Father."
"You've come this far. Do you think you could land her?"
"Land her? I don't know. Flying is one thing, but landing..."
"I'll talk you down. It'll be easier from the ground. You'll be okay." Jeff reassured him.
"It's a good idea. You'll be fine, Scott." Virgil added.
Scott rubbed his sweating hands on his trousers. "Do you guys think we can carry this off?"
"I'm sure we can." His father sounded so reassuring.
"Thunderbird Two to base. I'm handing control over to you Father." Virgil said.
"Thanks Virgil. I want Thunderbird Two to stand clear..."
"But..."
"No buts Virgil. If anything should go wrong you and Gordon have got to be able to effect a rescue. I've already sent everyone else to safety. I want you out of the way and maintaining radio silence. Let him concentrate on what he's doing."
"F-A-B" Virgil intoned with obvious reluctance.
Scott, following his father's instructions brought Thunderbird One in low over the runway. Then he changed to hover mode.
"Let me know when you're ready son."
For the first time since he'd settled into the pilot's seat Scott began to have serious doubts about his ability to complete this manoeuvre successfully. "I-I don't think I can."
"You can. You've got to Scott."
"B-But what if I do something wrong. I've got no references to follow!"
"Nothing will go wrong. Bring her in."
"I-I can't." Scott's determination was leaving him.
Jeff was still trying to talk Scott down. "You know what to do Scott. Lower her down ten feet and stop."
"How will I know when it's ten feet?"
"I'll tell you."
"This is Thunderbird One, we're talking about, not a paper plane. If I miscalculate it's not only curtains for Alan and me, there's you and half the island as well." The stress was clear in Scott's voice.
"Don't think of that Scott. Think of what you're doing."
"I am!" Scott yelled. "And I can't do it!" to Jeff's horror he heard something that sounded like a sob.
"He's losing it." Gordon said.
"Do you blame him?" Virgil asked.
Scott shut his eyes although it made no difference to the scene that he saw. His palms were sweaty, his uniform felt clammy, he was hyperventilating, his heart was racing. He hadn't felt like this since... since...
...Since he had been trapped in that ventilation shaft, newly blinded, with the water creeping mercilessly towards them. Then, as now, he had a loved brother with him. Then, as now, that brother had been unconscious. Then, as now, he hadn't known how badly that brother was injured...
A welcome voice cut through his reverie. Virgil had disobeyed his father's order to maintain radio silence. "Scott" he said quietly. "It's me. Virgil."
"V-Virgil. I-I'm sorry. I can't do this."
"Yes you can. You often said you could land Thunderbird One with your eyes shut. Now's your chance to show us."
"I'm out of practise."
"Scott you'll be fine. You've just flown her half way around the world. You're only metres away from safety. You've got to do this - for Alan." Virgil's voice was calm and composed. To Scott's ears it sounded as though he truly believed that his brother could land Thunderbird One safely.
A new thought crept into Scott's mind. He took a breath to bring his emotions back under control. Last time he'd felt like this he'd been trapped and totally helpless. This time he COULD do something, and moreover, he would.
He wiped his hands one more time. "Right! Let's do this!" There was a trace of the old steel in his voice.
Jeff started talking. Trying to keep Scott focused, to keep him reassured. "Okay Scott. You're 50 feet up. Bring her down. A bit more. You're doing great. You can do this. We all have faith in you. You're at 30 feet. You're doing great son. Keep it up. You can do this..."
Scott was starting to feel overwhelmed again. What with listening out for Thunderbird One's motors, the control panels warning bells, Alan's VSM and his father's continual reassurances, he was starting to lose control again.
It was as if Virgil realised his situation, because once again Scott heard that calm voice. "Father. Just give him the details. Let him concentrate on the sounds of Thunderbird One. He'll know when to operate the VTOL jets instinctively. But he'll need to be able to hear the change in the sounds Thunderbird One is making... Scott. We can hear the VSM here on Thunderbird Two. We'll keep an ear on Alan, you concentrate on landing."
"F-A-B, Virg. And thanks."
"Not a problem. We'll see you soon."
From his seat in the pilot's chair of Thunderbird Two, Gordon looked across at Thunderbird One. That Scott had managed to safely fly her this far was amazing. That there was now no way to land her was unthinkable.
For some reason, a catch phrase of a decades old TV show sprang to mind.
"Beam me up Scotty."
He hadn't realised that he'd actually vocalised it and was surprised when Virgil answered. "Yeah. It would simplify things wouldn't it."
"Except that you'd be left here unable to land Thunderbird Two."
"That would be a problem."
***
Mrs Tracy was staring up at the rocket plane that held two of her grandsons. "He's flown so far. We can't stop now." She turned back to Jeff. "Surely it won't be that hard for him to land it himself... would it?" she finished uncertainly.
"I don't know mother. Scott is... was... is a good pilot, but to land with no instrumentation..."
"The early aviation pioneers didn't have instrumentation." She persisted stubbornly.
"No." Jeff agreed. "But they could see where they were in relation to the ground." He looked over at the giant green bulk that was Thunderbird Two. "I wish they'd tell us what's..."
"We're still waiting for ideas." Scott's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"M-Mr Tracy." Brains said differentially. "I-I think Mrs Tracy may have the best solution at this time. There is no one else here able to u-undertake an air-to-air transfer."
Jeff mulled it over for a moment. "Brains. Get everyone into the shelters." He said quietly before raising the microphone. He now spoke with more assurance, "Scott!"
"Yes Father."
"You've come this far. Do you think you could land her?"
"Land her? I don't know. Flying is one thing, but landing..."
"I'll talk you down. It'll be easier from the ground. You'll be okay." Jeff reassured him.
"It's a good idea. You'll be fine, Scott." Virgil added.
Scott rubbed his sweating hands on his trousers. "Do you guys think we can carry this off?"
"I'm sure we can." His father sounded so reassuring.
"Thunderbird Two to base. I'm handing control over to you Father." Virgil said.
"Thanks Virgil. I want Thunderbird Two to stand clear..."
"But..."
"No buts Virgil. If anything should go wrong you and Gordon have got to be able to effect a rescue. I've already sent everyone else to safety. I want you out of the way and maintaining radio silence. Let him concentrate on what he's doing."
"F-A-B" Virgil intoned with obvious reluctance.
Scott, following his father's instructions brought Thunderbird One in low over the runway. Then he changed to hover mode.
"Let me know when you're ready son."
For the first time since he'd settled into the pilot's seat Scott began to have serious doubts about his ability to complete this manoeuvre successfully. "I-I don't think I can."
"You can. You've got to Scott."
"B-But what if I do something wrong. I've got no references to follow!"
"Nothing will go wrong. Bring her in."
"I-I can't." Scott's determination was leaving him.
Jeff was still trying to talk Scott down. "You know what to do Scott. Lower her down ten feet and stop."
"How will I know when it's ten feet?"
"I'll tell you."
"This is Thunderbird One, we're talking about, not a paper plane. If I miscalculate it's not only curtains for Alan and me, there's you and half the island as well." The stress was clear in Scott's voice.
"Don't think of that Scott. Think of what you're doing."
"I am!" Scott yelled. "And I can't do it!" to Jeff's horror he heard something that sounded like a sob.
"He's losing it." Gordon said.
"Do you blame him?" Virgil asked.
Scott shut his eyes although it made no difference to the scene that he saw. His palms were sweaty, his uniform felt clammy, he was hyperventilating, his heart was racing. He hadn't felt like this since... since...
...Since he had been trapped in that ventilation shaft, newly blinded, with the water creeping mercilessly towards them. Then, as now, he had a loved brother with him. Then, as now, that brother had been unconscious. Then, as now, he hadn't known how badly that brother was injured...
A welcome voice cut through his reverie. Virgil had disobeyed his father's order to maintain radio silence. "Scott" he said quietly. "It's me. Virgil."
"V-Virgil. I-I'm sorry. I can't do this."
"Yes you can. You often said you could land Thunderbird One with your eyes shut. Now's your chance to show us."
"I'm out of practise."
"Scott you'll be fine. You've just flown her half way around the world. You're only metres away from safety. You've got to do this - for Alan." Virgil's voice was calm and composed. To Scott's ears it sounded as though he truly believed that his brother could land Thunderbird One safely.
A new thought crept into Scott's mind. He took a breath to bring his emotions back under control. Last time he'd felt like this he'd been trapped and totally helpless. This time he COULD do something, and moreover, he would.
He wiped his hands one more time. "Right! Let's do this!" There was a trace of the old steel in his voice.
Jeff started talking. Trying to keep Scott focused, to keep him reassured. "Okay Scott. You're 50 feet up. Bring her down. A bit more. You're doing great. You can do this. We all have faith in you. You're at 30 feet. You're doing great son. Keep it up. You can do this..."
Scott was starting to feel overwhelmed again. What with listening out for Thunderbird One's motors, the control panels warning bells, Alan's VSM and his father's continual reassurances, he was starting to lose control again.
It was as if Virgil realised his situation, because once again Scott heard that calm voice. "Father. Just give him the details. Let him concentrate on the sounds of Thunderbird One. He'll know when to operate the VTOL jets instinctively. But he'll need to be able to hear the change in the sounds Thunderbird One is making... Scott. We can hear the VSM here on Thunderbird Two. We'll keep an ear on Alan, you concentrate on landing."
"F-A-B, Virg. And thanks."
"Not a problem. We'll see you soon."