BENSHEBA was the largest oil refinery in the world. Over 60% of the world's fuel passed through it. It was a vast complex, located miles from anywhere in the middle of the desert located near to Dubai. As with most such places in the 21st Century, it was a mostly automated set-up but a handful of technicians and operators were still on hand just in case anything were to go wrong.
The morning had been so far uneventful as per usual as Foreman Pete Broskitt sipped his 11am cup of coffee in his office overlooking the control room. "How are the storage tanks looking?" he called down via a microphone to the technicians below.
"Tank One - 80% capacity."
"Tank Two - 92%."
"Tank Three - 57%."
"Plenty of space in that one still," Broskitt remarked to himself.
"Tank Five - 76%."
Just then the office door opened making Broskitt almost jump out of his skin. "JESUS! WHAT THE-?!" he exclaimed, upsetting his coffee. He spun to see who'd entered without knocking. A tall muscular man in a black and white suit and tie had entered followed by two more men who were shorter and thinner. All three were wearing sunglasses. Broskitt swore under his breath as he slammed the now mostly empty cup onto the table. "For Christ's sake, Hicks! Can't you call ahead or knock before turning up uninvited?"
The big muscular man was somewhat intimidating. "That's Mister Hicks, to you, Broskitt," he said. "And may I remind you that as head of security for Grafton Industries, I have full access to everywhere at any time and do not need permission to check anywhere out."
"Things are fine, thanks for asking," fumed Broskitt as he tried to wipe the spilled coffee off his shirt and trousers. "
Hicks curled the edge of his mouth. "You might want to smarten yourself up before the boss gets here," he remarked.
Broskitt stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Are you going deaf as well?" asked Hicks rudely. "Mr Grafton is on his way for an inspection. I'd love to hear what he'd have to say about your appearance."
Broskitt was furious. "I wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't barged in and-"
There was a sudden rumble and the entire control building shuddered. Alarms started blaring in the control room and technicians began to hurry about in a state of panic.
Broskitt grabbed the microphone. "Talk to me! What happened?"
"Sir! Explosion in Sector Seven! Cause unknown!"
Another rumble. This one seemed closer as the building shuddered harder.
"Fire in Sectors Eight and Nine!" came another panicked cry.
Broskitt checked the map on his control desk. His blood ran cold. "Nine?! That's almost where the main storage tanks are!"
Hicks grabbed Broskitt by the arm and pulled his face close to his own. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded.
Broskitt yanked his arm angrily out of the security man's grip. "What's going on, Mister Hicks…is we've got a situation on our hands!"
5!
4!
3!
2!
1!
"Thunderbirds Are Go!"
"GRIEF" - Part 1
FLAMES crackled. Smoke billowed out from where the fires had broken out at the Bensheba Refinery. The clear blue sky above the desert was being blackened as the smoke covered the Sun. Broskitt had ordered an immediate evacuation of all non-essential personnel and save for only for himself, a single controller and Hicks in the control room, only the refinery's Fire Department had remained in the danger zone. The Fire-Fighters did what they could to try and tackle the raging inferno but it soon became clear that it was getting too out of hand. More explosions were occurring in different parts of the refinery. The worst, which was the one being tackled by the Department, was the one that was getting dangerously close to the oil storage tanks located right in the middle of the complex.
Hicks, Broskitt and the Controller listened as reports from the Fire Chief and Squad Leaders came through over the radio. None were sounding good.
"It's no use, Mr Broskitt. The fire's too intense!" The Chief was saying. "I don't know how much longer we can hold on!"
"Do all you can, Chief!" Broskitt answered. "Pull all Squads in to help you if needed. You must stop the flames getting to the tanks."
"Yes, sir!"
TV Reporter Gertie Benson had been working in Dubai when the reports had come through about the fire at the refinery. She along with her automated hovering camera had raced to the scene. However they were stopped by security and made to keep outside the exclusion zone that had been set up around the refinery - a three mile one to be exact. They could just make out the refinery on the horizon although the smoke rising from it was quite frightening even from a distance.
"This is Gertie Benson, reporting live from outside the exclusion zone that's been placed around the Bensheba Oil Refinery. As you can see from the tall plumes of thick black smoke rising from over there, it is clear that a major catastrophe has befallen the complex. The cause of the fire is currently unknown, but it looks like a mammoth task for the fire crews who are likely working with all their strength and courage to get the fires under control."
Just then, someone amongst the evacuated workers called out and pointed up into the sky. Soon everyone else began to look up as well as a number of excitable gaps and chatter began to spread amongst them.
"Hold on, something's up," Gertie said to the camera. "Wait, what's that? There's something heading this way and WOAH!"
A streak of silver zoomed above them accompanied by a roar of a powerful engine. Despite its lightning speed, Gertie knew immediately what it was. "Oh, Goodness! Yes, it is!" she said excitedly. "It's them! It's International Rescue!"
Thunderbird 1 slowed from its high-speed flight and descended closer to the refinery. It began to perform a loop flypast allowing Scott Tracy to observe the scene of carnage below. "Thunderbird 5, this is Thunderbird 1. I'm flying over the Bensheba Refinery now. It looks very bad."
"Copy that, Thunderbird 1," answered John who was monitoring from the space-station in orbit above the Earth. "Thunderbird 2 - what's your ETA?"
"Six minutes, Thunderbird 5," the voice of Virgil came.
"Try and get here sooner, Virgil," said Scott. "The fire's almost spread to the main fuel tanks. Brains, what would happen if it did."
"C-Catastrophe, that's what would happen, Scott," said Brains, who was observing from his lab on Tracy Island. "Those t-tanks can hold up to one m-million litres of fuel between them. The fire would n-need to only set one off-"
"And the entire complex would explode," Scott finished.
"W-Worse than that," said Brains. "I g-guestimate that the shockwave could even reach Dubai. It would be d-devastating to the global fuel economy and even more so to life."
Scott sighed. "This is serious alright. John, did you say there were people still inside the complex?"
"The Fire Department is tackling the blazes," said John. "Although it looks like the smaller ones are being left to burn. All squads seem to be making for the one nearest the fuel tanks. And according to my scans, three people are still inside the main control center."
"Okay, I'll go and try and get them out of there," said Scott. "Thunderbird 2, looks like we're gonna get to see Brains's new Nitro-Glycerine Bombs."
"F-A-B," said Virgil. "I've just crossed the coast. I can see smoke on the horizon. I'll be with you very soon."
"F-A-B," said Scott as he brought Thunderbird 1 down to land close to the control building.
Scott found the door to the building wide open and found he didn't have to break down any others in order to gain entry. He entered the control room, much to the astonishment of Broskitt, the Controller and Hicks. "Hi there! International Rescue."
"International Rescue?!" exclaimed Broskitt. "Blimey! I don't know who called you, but-"
Hicks suddenly moved towards Scott and tried to grab him. "Woah! Easy, big guy!" exclaimed Scott as he managed to dodge. "Is there a problem?"
"Yes!" snapped Hicks angrily. "You're trespassing on private property! Get OUT!"
"Mr Hicks, SHUT UP FOR GOD'S SAKE!" bellowed Broskitt. "I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE HEAD OF SECURITY, BUT THIS IS MY COMPLEX! I'M IN CHARGE! AND I AM VERY GLAD THEY'RE HERE TO HELP!"
Hicks had no response other than to let out a begrudging growl as he backed away from Scott.
Scott, trying to shake off the intimidating security man, turned his attention to Broskitt. "What's the situation?" he asked.
"Situation is near critical," said the Controller. "The Fire Department is doing all they can to try and keep the flames at bay. But it's not looking good."
Scott looked at the monitor screens. "No, it's not," he agreed. He turned to Broskitt. "Tell your squads to pull back."
"What?!" exclaimed Broskitt. "What for?"
"So that they're out of harm's way when Thunderbird 2 drops its fire-extinguishing tanks," Scott said.
Broskitt and the controller exchanged looks. "Well, go on then," said Broskitt. "Tell them to pull back."
The controller did so. "Control to Fire Chief. Pull back. Repeat - pull back. International Rescue are going to try and put the fire out."
"Roger! Understood!" the Chief's voice answered.
As the Fire Crews ran to their trucks and retreated away from the raging inferno, Thunderbird 2 was arriving. From his position in the cockpit, Virgil could see the full extent of the task that lay in front of him. The lives of potentially millions lay heavily on his shoulders. "Thunderbird 1 from Thunderbird 2 - approaching Danger Zone."
"Okay, Thunderbird 2, here are your instructions," said Scott. "I'm sending you the exact location as to where to drop the first canister."
"Got it, thanks," said Virgil. "Brains, how many will I need to extinguish this?"
"H-Hopefully only one," said Brains. "Then you can use the others on the remaining m-major blazes and let the Fire Department deal with the minor ones."
Virgil took a deep breath and readied himself. "Okay…here we go!" he said. He moved a lever. The hatch underneath the Module opened and a holder with three long grey canisters filled with Nitro-Glycerine was lowered out. Thunderbird 2 then moved cautiously over the boundary and began to cross the vast complex towards where the fire was raging. With the Fire Department having been pulled back, it was now spreading rapidly again and was getting dangerously close to the large storage tanks. As soon as the computer mark told him he was in position, Virgil flicked a switch and the first canister was released. It dropped down like a bomb falling from a military aircraft and landed right in the middle of the fire. It detonated and sprayed several gallons of nitro-glycerine all over the flames. Several of the flames were extinguished within seconds, but as Virgil turned Thunderbird 2 around to check the result, he was concerned to see that the fire was still raging. "Brains, did I do something wrong?" he asked anxiously.
"N-No, Virgil," Brains replied, examining the data on his computer. "It would appear that one c-canister isn't enough to kill all the flames. You'll have to drop both the others!"
Suddenly there came two massive explosions that rocked the complex. It wasn't the tanks, but some components very close to them had gone up instead.
Inside the control room, everyone was feeling the heat and sweat was trickling down their necks. "Hey, Virgil!" Scott said anxiously into his radio. "Hurry it up! It's gonna go!"
Virgil grimaced as he brought Thunderbird 2 in for a second pass. Once in the correct position, he released both of the remaining tanks and they dropped into the inferno. Both detonated one after the other and covered a much larger area than the first had done.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Everyone waited and watched anxiously to see what the result would be.
The next minute was extremely tense, but no further explosions came. Then the smoke around the tanks began to lift, revealing that the main blaze had in fact been extinguished. The tanks were no longer in danger.
"It worked!" said Scott with relief. He turned to Broskitt and the controller. "Your Fire Department can now deal with the other blazes."
Broskitt grinned broadly. "Chief, the main blaze is out. Go take out the rest of the fires!"
"Yes, sir!" answered the Chief with determination.
Broskitt turned back to Scott. "Thank you so much," he said gratefully.
Scott smiled and nodded, doing the same to the equally happy-looking controller. But when he turned to share the happy moment with Hicks, he found himself being given an extremely icy glare which he did not like at all. However, he tried his best to ignore it.
Despite having miscalculated how many of the canisters it would take to put out the inferno, Brains was nonetheless overjoyed by the success of his latest creation. "High-five, MAX!" he said as he held out his hand. The robot moved forwards to high-five but missed as Brains moved his hand. "Ha! Too slow again!"
"Success if there, Brains?"
Brains and MAX turned to see Jeff had entered from the house. "M-Mr T-Tracy!"
"Sorry, Brains, I should have said I was coming down," said Jeff.
"N-No, it's quite alright, Mr Tracy," said Brains. "I'd say p-partial success."
"Partial?"
"Y-Yes. Those new nitro-glycerine c-capsules have been used for the first time," said Brains.
"The fire at Bensheba?" asked Jeff. "John filled me in that there was trouble."
"The g-good news is that the m-main fire that was threatening the fuel tanks was extinguished," said Brains. "The bad news though is that it t-took all three tanks to extinguish it. I had r-rather hoped that it would only require one."
"Even the best can't always get it right the first time, Brains," said Jeff, putting a comforting hand on the young engineer's shoulder. "Trial and error. Practice makes perfect."
Brains smiled. "Y-You're right of course, Mr Tracy," he said. "I'll f-figure out the problem and next time it should do what we need it to do."
Just then, John called in. "Good news. The fires are being brought under control at Bensheba," he said. "The others are a lot more manageable for the refinery's own fire crews to deal with."
"Excellent news, John," said Jeff. "I'll be sure to give Scott and Virgil a well-deserved pat on the back when they get back here."
"They're still there at the moment, Dad," said John. "Probably going to stick around for a little while just to make sure that everyone is safe."
"And hopefully they w-won't get any grief whilst they're there," said Brains.
Jeff and John looked at him with puzzled frowns.
"What do you mean by that, Brains?" asked Jeff.
"Well…" said Brains, adjusting his blue glasses. "I take it you're b-both aware of who the owner of the Bensheba Refinery is?"
"Of course," said Jeff. "It belongs to…" He broke off as the realisation hit him. "Oh…of course."
John ran a scan of the area and he saw something that gave him cause for concern. "Ah…it looks like we may have a situation…"
As soon as the remaining fires were brought under control, it was deemed safe for all the personnel who'd been evacuated to return to the complex. Virgil had landed Thunderbird 2 just outside close to where Thunderbird 1 was.
"I cannot thank you boys enough for what you've done today," said Broskitt. "This could have ended very badly."
"It might still be for you," said Hicks, who'd just returned from a team that had gone to inspect the damage to the pipes and other parts of the complex. "The boss will not like this."
"And I suppose you have the answer to what caused this, do you, Mr Hicks?" asked Broskitt.
"No, but what caused it doesn't matter," said Hicks. "It still has happened."
"Accidents do happen, Mr Hicks," said Virgil.
"Did I say you could speak?" snapped Hicks rudely.
Scott finally snapped. "Alright, pal, spit it out!" he said angrily. "You've been hostile to me ever since I first set foot in that control room. What the hell is your problem with us?"
Hicks gave him a hard look back before beginning to smirk sinisterly. "Me? I have no issue with you," he said. "The boss on the other hand…"
"What are you talking about, Hicks?" demanded Broskitt. "What could Mr Grafton have against International Rescue?"
Scott suddenly gulped and he and Virgil exchanged alarmed looks. "W-Wait, did you say Grafton?" he asked.
"As in…Warren Grafton?" added Virgil.
Before either Hicks or Broskitt could answer, the hum of a Helijet's engine could be heard. They all turned to look and saw a small black Helijet coming in over the fuel tanks.
Hicks began to chuckle. "Oh-ho-ho. You're in for it now," he cackled delightedly.
The Helijet gently descended and landed near to Thunderbird 1. Then a security man walked up to the side door and pulled it open. A beefy man in a very smart and just as expensive suit stepped out. He was wearing sunglasses but then took them off to reveal the face of a man who Scott had hoped he'd never have to see in person again. The face of Warren Grafton.
Scott felt his internal organs tense up. "Oh, sh-."