Set in the early days of International Rescue the boys are still finding their feet with their roles in IR. They are about to learn that family can mean a lot more than blood, who you need most might be who you least expect and that some rescues don't end in once you leave the danger zone.
Warning for mature themes and swearing – thought nothing explicit.
Parts of this have been posted on A03 as a series of works. I have rewritten and edited it for continuity (but I could seriously use a beta) and wish to present it here as it was originally envisaged.
It will update Friday and Tuesday.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Thunderbirds related. I did create the OFC.
Not Your Average International Rescue
It was late. Virgil Tracy checked the time and saw that it was pushing toward 3am. He sighed and ran a hand down his face before looking over at his brother. Despite the hour, Scott had his head buried in his comm, the light of it reflecting off of the limousine window. The day had been long and dull with both brothers required, by their father, to attend a Tracy Industries board meeting in the London office. Virgil understood why Scott had been required to go. As eldest son of the owner and CEO it was a given that one day the empire would fall to him. What Virgil didn't understand was why he had to go. Market values, expansion phases and trade variables meant little to him, though he had done his due diligence before the meeting – if only so he didn't look like a complete idiot. Scott, naturally, had been all over the minutia of the meeting and had managed, despite only a few previous forays to the London office, to command the room and effectively steer the meeting towards the goals outlined by their father. It still baffled Virgil why he'd had to go though. Fortunately, the evening had made up for the day as the brothers had been able to go to dinner together then ambled from one bar – pub he reminded himself – to another. Neither man was drunk but both pleasantly buzzed and, so Virgil had thought, more than ready to call it a night.
"Scott, put that down."
"hm?" Scott didn't even glance up.
"It's 3am, we we're stuck in that board room all day and we've made the most of the evening. How are you even reading that without going cross eyed?"
"Brains thinks he can get One to hit Mach 19 with the new intake design." Scott still hadn't looked up from the comm unit but at least now Virgil understood what had his attention so fully.
It was still strange to think that International Rescue had only launched six months ago. Stranger to think that only a few years ago Virgil was still at school and Scott in USAF and their Thunderbird machines little more than sketches and a conversation between dad and his new found friend Hiram Hackenbacker aka Brains.
"Seriously?" Virgil said leaning over to get a better look. "Is circumnavigating the globe in an hour and a half too slow for you now?"
Scott finally looked away from the design brief, the edges of his mouth pulling up in a slight smile.
"Gotta make up for Two somehow" he said, watching his brother out of the corner of his eye.
The limo pulled to a sedate stop for a red light and Virgil made a show of humphing and looking away from Scott and out the window. Thunderbird Two would never be as fast as Thunderbird One, but then she wasn't meant to be. Two was the one who did all the heavy listing, or, as Virgil liked to tell Scott, all the actual work. He was just building up to the familiar needling when he saw a woman get hustled into an alley by a man who had come up behind her and taken a strong grip on her elbow. As he watched 3 other men followed into the small space, one looking around in what Virgil supposed he thought was a surreptitious manner.
"Scott, come on!" Virgil was out of the door before Scott realised what had happened but six months of International Rescue, years in USAF and a lifetime of knowing his brother made him follow.
It turned out not to be an alleyway at all, but rather one of London's many, tiny side roads. Not that it made much difference. At this time of night, the doors were all locked and most windows unlit. As they crept down the road Scott silently took the lead, his eyes assessing. Virgil was happy to let him do it. International Rescue worked because all 5 brothers knew not only their own strengths but their brother's strengths as well. Scott could assess a situation and come up with a workable plan in moments. Virgil took longer and with four men ganging up on one woman it was likely that each second would count.
"Keys, purse, comms, jewellery, now" one of the thugs could be clearly heard from around the bend just ahead. His voice glowered and promised competence and utter assurance that he would get what he wanted. Virgil saw Scott's shoulders tense and they increased their pace.
"That's gonna be a problem" came the woman's voice. Her accent clearly British but lacking the crisp, clear cut sound of Lady Penelope.
"You'll give us what we want or we'll take it" the man threatened. Coming to the corner Scott eased his head around then darted back.
"They don't seem to have firearms" he said, "but one is still holding her."
"Maybe we'll take our fun from you another way."
As one the brothers shared a look. Virgil's blood ran cold and from the look on his face Scott's did too. Clearly the threat had galvanised the woman as sounds of a scuffle could now be heard. As one they barrelled round the corner, Scott rugby tacked the man leering in front of the woman and Virgil ran through one of the two that he mentally nicknamed 'menacing.' Somehow Scott had managed to take out a second of the four men and whilst the last fled Virgil was able to pull the woman away from the leering man who was making a fight of things with Scott. As he got his first good look at her he realised something was wrong. She was short, at least half a foot shorter than him and wiry but her skin was sallow and her hair limp. The wrist under his hand was too thin but also rock hard. He gently flexed his fingers and felt the skin flex too far.
"Are you alright?"
She looked at him in utter bewilderment before turning back to see Scott subdue the leering man who he now had pinned to the ground.
"It's alright" Virgil said to her. "We'll call the police; he won't be able to do this again."
Her eyes snapped back to him and, just for a second, he got the impression she thought he was an utter moron. But, if it was there at all, it was there and gone in a second, replaced by the confusion Virgil had seen before on victims who had unexpectedly been through a whole lot in a very short time. He didn't want to move her as the man still cursing on the floor had done but he managed to gently guide her down the slim road and back to the main through way. She still hadn't said a word and, as the streetlighting hit her, Virgil's worry only grew. The jeans she wore were old, faded from over use and stained in a way that looked as though there had been many failed attempts to clean them. She wore a blue three-quarter sleeved t-shirt but as Virgil gently put a hand on her back to guide her toward the limo, he could feel the fabric was thin, too thin for someone to be wearing at this time of night in England.
She put the brakes once when she realised she was being steered towards a car.
"Easy," he said. "I'm an EMT, I just want to check you're alright and get you a drink." He hid a grimace at the white lie. All five brothers were trained EMT's but they put their training into practice for International Rescue rather than usual emergence services.
He reached in and took a bottle of water, breaking the seal and handing it to her. To his surprise she threw her head back and drained nearly the entire bottle. As she did her shirt rode up and he saw a massed band of dark blue across her mid-section.
Without thinking he stepped forward and placed both hand on her shoulders.
"Did they hurt you?" He scanned her with his eyes but, now the shirt was back in place there was nothing amiss other than what he'd seen earlier – which his mind now helpfully supplied as likely being caused by malnutrition.
"I'm alright" she said looking him in the eye. She seemed to be trying to look through him and again Virgil was struck by the notion that she was trying to looking into his very soul. Again, as soon as he thought it, the look was gone. "Thank you" she said. "I don't know what would have happened if you both hadn't come along." She turned towards the side road, effectively and gently removing herself for Virgil's grip. "What about your friend?"
Blue lights swirled into view as a police car arrived. The woman gave it a fear filled glance. "I don't want to talk to them" she said. "Thank you again" she gripped his hand suddenly in both of hers and then with a final squeeze she was off across the junction and down into yet another of London's maze of side roads.
"Hey wait!" Virgil understood, he really did. Something was going on with this woman, something that made her more scared of the police than the attempted mugging – Virgil didn't want to think of it as anything else. But he'd seen those bruises and just how much she'd needed the water. Without looking he jogged across the junction after her, the time of night the only reason he didn't get caught by a passing car. As he reached the side road though he knew it was futile. It branched off at four other points and down here there were a few underground pubs still open. She could have gone anywhere. He heard feet coming up next to him.
"She took off?" Scott sounded non plussed.
"Yeah" Virgil spared him a glance. He looked distinctly rumpled and had a streak of dirt down one cheek but was otherwise fine. "You got off alright."
"They really didn't know what they were doing. Congrats on taking out three of them though and then getting the girl out. I didn't know you had it in you."
"I didn't" Virgil said, surprised.
"Well, you obviously did, little brother. I guess you've been paying attention to Kyrano after all."
"No, I mean, I only got one, then I got her out."
"Huh" Scott rubbed his chin. Something else had happened in that little road but both brothers were aware they didn't have all the pieces.
"Not your average call for International Rescue, was it?" Scott said sardonically leading Virgil back to the waiting police. Soon, they would compare notes and try to work out what happened. But first they had interviews to give to make sure that those men had the best chance of being punished for what they had tried to do.
Shit she thought. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Those four had made a rather obvious attempt at following her since she left the venue. Not that she could blame them, she'd poured everything she had into the drunk-lost-lonely-girl act. She'd even had to slow up as she approached Farrier Street to make sure she was caught. They saw one woman out on her own at 3am. An easy target. She saw 4 men she could easily, well, maybe not easily but certainly effectively, incapacitate and 4 glorious wallets full of money she could use to get food for the first time in 2 days and potentially even a bed for the night.
Then they had to come steaming in. She'd already taken down 2 and the others were just getting the idea that maybe things weren't going the way they'd planned. Initially, she'd though it was Christmas. Both of them were in suits tailored to thousands of pounds. They would surely have something on them worth more than the four idiots combined. But the taller brown haired one was extremely competent. He moved like he knew how to handle himself and she was proven right moments later. The black haired one had done what she'd expected. He'd gone straight to her, tried to pull her away from the fighting. But then he's asked her if she was alright and damn it if that hadn't thrown her. No one cares if she's alright, she's not even a real person for God's sake. But he meant it and all of the well-crafted replies she kept in store for occasions when Samaritans did try to help her died on her lips. She saw in that moment, unfettered honesty, genuine concern and utter confidence that his friend was fine and he was needed here, with her.
She wasn't about to get into his car though. The water was an unexpected bonus but when the police turned up, she realised she'd stayed too long. One scan would reveal what she was and then it'd be execution by one means or another. Thing's like her weren't allowed to exist. She taken his hand with the intention of lifting the high end comm unit on his wrist but once again his eyes stopped her. She couldn't do it to him. So, she'd run and hidden and he'd come after her and shortly after that his friend - no the brown haired one had said 'little brother' and if that wasn't a contradiction then nothing was – had come to. She'd stayed put and was rewarded with one final thing.
"Not your average call for International Rescue, was it?"
Well, if that wasn't damn interesting.