There is small use of strong language in this chapter. Thanks to Tikatu for my proof reading.
"Alan! Come on, little one, wake up!" Scott continued to speak to his brother, while tending to his head injury.
"O-h m-y G-o-d !" Alan began to stir, much to Scott's relief.
"Al, can you hear me?" Scott sat his younger brother up against the cold metal walls of TB3.
"Just about.. What happened?" Alan said as he opened his beautiful cerulean eyes.
"I think something hit us." Scott guessed as he cast his eyes at the damaged control area.
"Find out then." Alan suggested to his older brother as he pointed to his watch.
"I'll do it. You just rest." Scott sat down on the metal floor next to his baby brother, causing him to miss the rolling of Alan's eyes due to his overprotective comment.
"Thunderbird 3 calling International Rescue, come in please." Both brothers looked at each other, hoping someone at base could answer their questions about what happened.
"How much longer?" The British scientist was getting fed up with the impatience of the Hood and his partner in crime.
"I told you, it's going to take me a while. I have to locate the spacecraft, and then move the satellite to make sure they are positioned correctly."
"Okay, just get on with it. You have four and a half hours left." The man sat back down in his chair at the back of the room, and began to relay the information to the Hood.
"How it going?" Jeff looked over his son's shoulders at the mass of computer scans locating the positions of high Earth satellites.
"Dad, this is going to take hours, hours we may not have. The people behind this could fire that weapon again." Virgil explained their dilemma.
"Let's see if we can narrow it down then." Jeff sat down in the far side of the
lounge near the portraits of his sons, desperately trying to not to look at two
portraits in particular.
"How?" Gordon, the only non-astronaut wondered.
"If this weapon is positioned on a satellite, and that's the best option for accurate firing, then it must be reasonably close to Thunderbird 5, since it seems that was their target." Virgil agreed with the comment as he selected from the scans satellites that were a capable firing distance from TB5.
"Well, if we take into account that whoever did this wasn't likely to tell Space Command where their satellite is, it must be a non-registered satellite. That only leaves 15 possibilities." Gordon explained to his father.
"Good. By the time we have checked them out, the weapons on Thunderbird Five should be operational again, and we can blow it out of the sky." Jeff was relieved at the thought.
"That's right, Mr. Tracy. John is about halfway through fixing both the weapons and the thrusters. It will take just under five hours," the beautiful, dark-featured woman reported as she entered the room.
"That long? Well, never…" Jeff paused, and a smile of hope spread across his face as a beeping sound rang around the room, coming from Scott's portrait.
"Go ahead, Thunderbird 3. Are you two okay?" His two sons, both waiting for a positive reply, quickly joined Jeff at his desk.
"Dad, we're okay, or near enough. What happened?" The whole family felt a wave of relief pass through their bodies, and Jeff could barely prevent a smile.
"Thank God for that! We were so worried! Scott, it seems a weapon has been fired at Thunderbird 3, and it looks like it caused an explosion onboard." Jeff stated their theory of the situation to his son.
"What!" A sharp cry, by a very familiar voice, was heard from next to Scott. The voice warmed Tin-Tin's heart.
"I know, Alan, but our top priority is to get you two safely out of TB3. Now, can you do a damage check?" Jeff asked.
"We'll have a go, Dad, but it's going to take awhile, it's a mess up here." Scott reported as Brains began to look worried.
"Right, I want a detailed report as soon as possible, Scott, but be careful." The commanding orders with a fatherly touch were carried through the radio waves.
"FAB, Dad. Is John okay?" Scott asked in his concerned voice.
"I am now that I know you two are alive." A much more chirpy John Tracy voice was heard in contrast to the apprehensive one before.
"FAB 1 calling International Rescue headquarters. Lady Penelope speaking. Come in please." As one live link from TB3 ended, another from England came in.
"Go ahead, Penny." Penelope could sense the happier tone in Jeff's voice.
"I am 2 hours away from the site from which Brains thinks the satellite is being controlled. Have you any news?" The young woman was just as worried about her dear friends as any of the family.
"I just heard from Scott and Alan. They're not badly hurt and are checking the ship." Jeff briefed his friend on the recent news.
"Oh! That's wonderful, Jeff! I will radio in again when we reach our destination." With that the blonde beauty signed off.
Jeff Tracy sat for a moment with his head in his hands and breathed deeply, but the smell of hot coffee pulled him up straight again.
"Thank you, Kryano." The graying man did so appreciate his wise friend.
"Your sons will be fine, Mr. Tracy. You will prevail." The smartly-dressed man bowed and returned to the kitchen.
"I hope so." Jeff prayed.
"Oh, shit! That hurt." Alan cursed as he attempted to stand.
"Hey, take it easy, and watch your mouth." Scott tried to steady himself and his brother as they moved around the ship.
Both brothers had bad head injuries and were coughing from the smoke that filled the air, not to mention shivering from the freezing temperatures.
"God, it's cold." Scott breathed as he attempted to get a console online.
"Scott, it looks like we have some power in the secondary reserves, because we clearly have gravity and secondary lighting. We're still drifting though and I don't think we have enough power to bring her under control, not even manually. " The heavy shadows cast by secondary power lights made TB3 look even more damaged and mysterious.
"Well, that's something, but the main communication systems is fried. We're going to have to use our watches. And without main power we can't move; we're totally adrift." Scott stopped as he heard Alan snigger in the background.
"What the hell could be funny, Alan?" Scott said in disbelief as he turned to face his brother.
"Scott, what you just said was the good news. We only came up here to fix John's problem, we should have left him to it."
"You know, Al, you're sure bad luck. You're always the one in trouble." Scott laughed, despite the circumstances they were in. "Even when you were little I had to come save you from everything, including Dad."
"Good, that's what you're here for, to 'baby-sit' me, remember?" Alan said as he checked for TB3's actual location.
"Scott, seriously, this isn't good. We have no power, the escape pods are only at half power, and even if we got them to full power we'd probably be blown out of the sky by that weapon. I don't see how things could get any worse." Alan and Scott's blue eyes met across the cold, dark room, and shared the same worry.
"Tin-Tin, can you give me a readout on the weapons' power level?" John said as he appeared, backing out from a panel under a display console, his hands full of tools.
"Erm, sure, John, they're still fusing and not even at half power yet. We're going to have to re-route some more power to the weapons. It's going to take another hour or so." Tin-Tin said in a slightly depressed voice.
"Not again! We've been at it for nearly three and a half hours!" John's voice was getting more annoyed, and tiredness was showing through.
"I know, John, but we're nearly there once the weapons are online. Then we can blow that bloody satellite away, and all three of you will be safe." Tin-Tin's words tried to sooth John's emotions.
"I know. Thanks, Tin-Tin." John smiled his thanks at his friend, and tried to return the relaxing words.
"He will be okay, you know." John saw the sadness hinting in her eyes.
"What?"
"Alan. We'll bring him home." Tin-Tin looked at John.
"I just know something's going to go wrong, and I love him."
John laughed.
"We noticed that; well, everyone apart from Alan did. So, let's have another go at those weapons and try and bring those space cowboys home." Both cheered up slightly at the thought.
"How much longer?" The Hood was getting impatient. He wanted International Rescue finished.
"Master, the satellite has been programmed and it has been moved into the correct position in orbit. In less than an hour the weapon will fire. It will fire 3 precision shots at the craft and I think that will be enough help from us. Thunderbird 3 should go in the direct path we want and hit our other target." An evil smirk crossed both of their faces.
"Well done, Agent 9. Now leave and come back to my hide-out." The Hood ordered.
"What about the scientist?" He quietly questioned his master.
"Leave him." The Hood felt victory coming his way as he ended the conversation.
The old scientist looked into the eyes of the evil man standing next to him and tried to turn and run, but he received a large blow to the back of the head.
Meanwhile, on the boundary of our beautiful home planet, radio station 589's satellite orbited in its usual position. The two radio DJ's, and their engineer, David, had just come off the air from their five hour show.
"God, I never knew the Earth would look so peaceful from up here." The dark-haired DJ said, looking down on the planet below. He had never been in space before this job.
"I know. I'm going to miss it when we go back to Earth next month." The younger man, who was sorting the songs out for their next show, said.
"I know. I don't think I am going to look forward to re-entry."
"Don't worry about it. Anyway, that's next month. Let's just relax for now. "
"You're right, mate. Let's put some tunes on."
Meanwhile, not too far away, also on the rim of space, the most advanced spacecraft ever built drifted around.
"We'd better radio in." Alan said as he breathed deeply and cuddled his body, causing Scott to narrow his eyes.
"You feeling all right, Alan?" Scott hesitated to call home and walked over and tried to hold his brother.
"Fine." Alan answered impassively and then turned to face his brother.
"What does that look mean?" Alan snapped as he moved away from his overprotective brother.
"That means I know you're lying, so there's no point hiding it." Scott, himself feeling the ill effects of the cold and a headache the size of Texas, had a touch of resentment in his voice.
"Okay, I'm probably feeling as crappy as you, but don't you dare treat me like a four-year-old, Scott!" Alan raged as his innocent face was replaced with an infuriated one.
"That's my job, Alan, to make sure you're okay." Scott yelled back just as much, as no one in the cold depths on space could hear them.
The eldest and youngest Tracy sons had a very close relationship despite the near 10-year age difference, but the subject of age would always cause an argument between them. Scott, like his father, gave Alan no responsibility whatsoever and was far too overprotective as far as Alan was concerned. That, plus Scott's thoughts about Alan's major recklessness and youthfulness for some jobs was a dangerous mix in an argument.
"What? No, Scott, that not you're f…" Alan stopped as a bleeping noise came from Scott's watch.
"Go ahead, Dad." Jeff sensed a touch of edge in his eldest son's voice.
"How's TB3?"
"We have looked at what we can, Dad, but we are only on secondary power. There is no way we can get the engines repaired from in here, and the risk is too great to go outside. The oxygen tanks seem not to be damaged and carbon dioxide levels are tolerable for now. We can't pilot her at all, Dad, or at least not without extreme risk." Scott relayed a negative report to all on Tracy Island.
"Our only option is to move Thunderbird 5 to you then. She and her grabs should be able to stop you from drifting. After that, I'm sending Thunderbird 2 up into orbit to help you out." Jeff, Tin-Tin, and Brains had agreed that this was the only option.
"First, we have to destroy that weapon on the satellite." Gordon added as he smiled at seeing his brothers again.
"We have just located the satellite, Scott, and it doesn't look good. She's far too close for my liking."
"John, how long until weapons are online?
"30 minutes, Dad." John said as he switched tools and went back to work.
"Okay, John.. Scott, Alan, just sit tight and wait for us, and keep this channel open."
"FAB, Dad."
"I think everything's going all right now, Dad." Virgil said in a very relieved tone.
"Anything can happen in the next half-hour." Jeff whispered as Gordon and Virgil exchanged glances.
At the same time, International Rescue's powerful enemy, the Hood, sat in his golden throne in his sumptuous temple with his eyes fixed on one point in the whole room. On his computer terminal he had programmed the countdown to the firing of the weapon.
"You have twenty minutes to live, International Rescue."
I nicked a phase from 'Stingray' in this chapter. Please Review!