Dirty, sweaty and exhausted, Scott was supremely grateful to strip off his work clothes and step under the hard pounding water of a very hot shower. He stood there for a long time, head down, letting the heat seep into his tired muscles. It had been worth all the grueling hours of hard physical labor, though…thanks to his stubborn refusal to quit, Thunderbird One's refit was complete and she was airworthy again, thirty-six hours ahead of Brains' most optimistic schedule.
He just hoped she wouldn't be needed tonight.
He was almost too tired to eat, but when he at last emerged from the shower, the tantalizing smell of steak wafting from the kitchen proved too much for him. He pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and headed out in search of the source.
He heard Virgil at his father's desk, talking on the comlink, and took a detour to see what was going on. "Wait a minute, John," Virgil was saying as he entered the living room. "Liz is coming here? For how long?"
"At least a week," John said from the vidscreen on the wall. "Maybe longer. Depends on how long Alan needs her. They moved him to the ship tonight – they're going to spend the night in Sydney harbor and sail for home in the morning."
"John?" Scott said. "What's this about Alan?"
"Oh, hi, Scott," John greeted him. "Dad's decided to discharge Alan early and bring him home. Apparently Elizabeth would only agree to it if he had a doctor's care on a continual basis for at least the first week."
Scott was instantly suspicious. "Why so soon? Did something happen?
"Someone tried to take a photograph of him in his room," Virgil supplied. "We don't know why – it might just have been a curious patient, but after what happened to you…"
Scott nodded. "Damn right." He thought about it for a moment, and grinned. "Come to think of it, it'll be nice to have a little extra female company around the house."
"But what about the security problems?" Virgil burst out with such vehemence that both Scott and John turned to look at him in surprise. "What if we have to launch Thunderbirds?"
"Well," Scott said mildly, "I guess we'll handle it somehow. We've managed before, and it's not for very long."
"Well, I think it's a very bad idea," Virgil stood up, scowling. "I think Dad must be out of his mind."
"What's wrong, Virg?" Scott asked. "I thought you liked Elizabeth."
"I do!" Virgil stomped toward the doorway. "That's not the point."
Scott exchanged a glance of amused bewilderment with John. "What's gotten into him?"
John shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he needs a vacation."
"Bro, we all need a vacation," Scott said ruefully, easing tired shoulders.
John laughed. Scott signed off the transmission and went in search of steak.
The rescue siren went off at six a.m.
Scott, out of bed as usual, was down by the pool having a peaceful early morning cup of coffee when the silence was shattered by the familiar summons. He took off at a run for the long curving flight of steps that led to the villa.
Virgil and Gordon were already there. As ranking officer in his father's absence, Scott slid in behind the desk. "What's happening, John?"
"An insurance company skyscraper in New Jersey has been severely damaged by a car bomb, Scott," John told him. "Several floors have collapsed and the underground parking is completely cut off. Rescue workers were making progress when high levels of gas began to register on their instruments. Seems like several gas lines under the building have been ruptured. Conventional rescue can't proceed because of the threat of a gas explosion, and there are at least sixteen people trapped down there, four of them in one of the elevators.
"Okay, John…how many levels down are the trapped people?"
"Most of them seem to be on the fourth level. But the elevator is all the way at the bottom, ten floors down."
Scott's mouth twisted. "Love the easy ones. John, find Dad and tell him our status is go. Virgil, Gordon, Pod 3. We're going to need the Mole – and probably the Firefly."
He swung around and headed for the wall. "Okay, people…let's move!"
It was cold in New Jersey in January. Scott could see snow thick on the ground as Thunderbird One screamed out of the sky on final approach, nose up, spewing fire and smoke from her landing jet. He spotted the fire chief and several of his men racing to meet him as he descended the ladder. He pulled on heavy coat and gloves as he waited, glancing up at the steel gray clouds that were darkening now in the setting sun.
God, it was freezing. That's what you get for living on a tropical island, Tracy, he thought. You're getting soft.
Mobile control was set up in minutes at a safe distance from what remained of the forty-story insurance company building. The building had occupied its own business park, the land for several hundred yards around consisting of grounds and parking lots. At least that meant no nearby buildings were in danger if the gas went off.
"Thunderbird Two from Mobile Control. What is your ETA?"
"Fifty seven minutes, Scott."
"That's not so good. Can you cut that down?"
"Maybe… What's the situation?"
"The building's lost a couple more floors. If one more support column gives way the whole structure's going to come down. The fire department is keeping everything covered in foam – we can't afford a fire."
"What kind of shape is the parking garage in?" Virgil asked. "Is the roof holding up?"
Scott looked up, nodding his thanks as the fire chief handed over a roll of blueprints. "So far so good, but we're seeing structural cracks. I don't know what's going to happen if we lose the rest of the building."
"Not to mention if something sparks all that gas," Virgil said.
"You had to say that, didn't you?" Scott unrolled the blueprints. "I'm going to have a way in figured out before you arrive. Just get here as fast as you can."
"F.A.B."
Scott turned to the fire chief and together they pored over the building plans. "The elevator with the four trapped people is here, on level ten," the chief said, pointing out a block of four elevators in the center of the garage structure. "The remaining people are on the fourth level, approximately here." He indicated an area about halfway in from the left side of the structure.
"Why so many in the same place?" Scott asked. "Did they all leave together?"
"Not exactly," the fire chief grimaced. "It's two minivans full of kids from soccer practice. Eight and nine year olds."
Jesus. Scott stared at him. "How many adults?"
"Two. Four more in the elevator."
Scott hit the comlink. "Virgil, you've got to move your ass. We've got ten little kids under that building."
He gazed across at the ruined structure, feeling utterly and completely helpless.
Scott's nerves were at screaming point by the time Thunderbird Two's huge bulk appeared on the skyline. He had been over every detail of the situation at least ten times and made three exhaustively detailed circuits of the building, looking for some way to do something – but he couldn't even find a hole big enough to put his remote camera down there. The approaching roar of his brother's engines made him swing around in relief, searching the sky for the running lights. He ran back across the parking lot to Mobile Control. "Mobile Control to Thunderbird Two. Don't put her down too close, Virg – your jets could set off the gas."
"F.A.B., Scott," Virgil came back. "Coming in to land just west of your location."
The firemen and other onlookers stared open mouthed as Thunderbird Two swooped out of the night sky. Scott always forgot what an impressive sight she must be to someone who had never seen her before – two hundred fifty feet of solid green muscle, sixty feet high, landing jets belching thick columns of fire as she settled to earth with the astonishing grace of his brother's piloting skills. As soon as her wheels touched the ground she reared up high again on her struts, exposing the pod with the big white number three painted on the front. The pod door swung down, forming a ramp, and Scott heard the powerful engines of the Mole cough into life.
The fire chief stood beside Scott, eyes riveted to the Mole as she lumbered down the ramp and headed toward them. "What the hell is that?"
"We call her the Mole," Scott smiled. "She's going to help us get those people out."
The Mole halted beside Scott, the rear cabin door sliding open in invitation. "That's my ride," Scott said, unable to resist a quick grin. "I'll keep you informed on what's going on under there."
The fire chief nodded dumbly, still staring up at the huge boring machine. Desperately glad to be in action, Scott vaulted up the steps and in through the door, which slid shut behind him. The Mole lurched forward, heading for the pile of rubble on the outskirts of the ruined building.
"Where do they get these things?" the fire chief said, to nobody in particular.
On board the Mole, Scott came forward to where Virgil and Gordon sat at the drive and navigation controls, respectively. Underground the Mole was blind, depending completely on her sensitive instruments to guide her to her destination. "We're going to need the dicetylene jets when we bore," Scott told them. "We can't afford a single spark down there. Got the masks?"
"On board," Gordon acknowledged.
The Mole came to a halt. "Strap in," Virgil ordered. "We're going in."
Scott and Gordon took their seats and fastened their belts. Virgil hit the switch and the rear of the Mole's cabin began to rise up into the air, pointing her bit straight down at the rubble. "Dicetylene jets on. Boring…now."
The Mole's massive bit began to whirl in an ever-increasing spiral. She crawled forward on her tracks, sliding down until her spinning nose touched the rubble. They braced themselves as she took her first bite of concrete. There was hardly a shudder inside the cabin.
"Like a knife through butter," Virgil smiled with satisfaction.
"Right two degrees," Gordon said, eyes on the instruments.
"F.A.B."
As the Mole tunneled through the concrete into the parking lot, Scott watched the ultrasonic scanner over Gordon's shoulder, mentally overlaying the building plans on to the screen. "Should be nearly there," he said, after a couple of minutes.
"Entering Level Four now," Gordon nodded.
"How's the dicetylene holding up?"
"Fine," Virgil said. "Not a spark in sight."
"We're through!" Gordon announced. "Shut her down, Virgil."
The Mole's engines died away to silence. "What's the gas level?" Scott asked.
"Put it this way," Gordon said, glancing at the readings, "We'd better hurry."
"Let's do it." Scott broke open the equipment locker and handed both his brothers a gas mask. He pulled on his own and shoved more into bags. "Everybody take one. Let's go get those kids."
The fourth level of the structure was mostly intact, with some subsidence toward the western side of the building. They quickly located the two parked minivans. "Are they in there?" Gordon asked.
Scott peered in the side windows of one vehicle. "Yep – they're all passed out from the gas." He tried the doors, but they were locked. He hefted the fire ax. "Stand clear – I'm going to break the glass."
He swung the heavy ax into the window portion of the sliding door. The safety glass crazed but didn't break. Scott put his back into it, swinging again. This time the glass gave way at the bottom of the window. Scott tore at the pieces with his gloved hand and slipped his arm in, fishing for the door catch.
The door slid back and Gordon and Virgil were inside, scooping up small bodies and applying gas masks. "They're alive!" Virgil said, his voice edged with relief.
Scott was already swinging the fire ax at the window of the second vehicle.
When all the masks had been strapped in place, they transferred the unconscious children and adults to the Mole. Scott was rummaging around in the equipment locker as Gordon lifted the last one aboard. He straightened up, shoving gear and more masks into a bag. "Get them out of here," he said. "I'm going after the ones in the elevator."
Virgil twisted round in the drivers seat, frowning. "No, Scott – wait for us. We can bore straight down to the tenth level."
"I know, Virg, but if the gas has gotten to those trapped people, they could be dead before you reach them. I've got to try to get masks to them as quickly as possible."
"I'll go with you," Gordon said, standing up.
"Sorry, Gordo – the Mole's a two man operation," Scott said. "Get back down here as quick as you can. I'll see you on level ten."
He jumped down from the Mole to the concrete floor of the parking garage. Virgil swore in frustration as the cabin door slid shut. "I hate when he does that."
The Mole's engines roared into life and she began to reverse up into her bore hole. Scott swung around, eyes searching for the central elevator structure where four more people were trapped – six floors further down. Spotting its location, he began to sprint across the concrete toward it.
Halfway there, the sky fell in.
On board the Mole, Virgil and Gordon were almost hurled from their seats, the tunneling machine bucking wildly. Fighting to keep her on course, Virgil hit the comlink. "International Rescue to fire chief," he said urgently. "What just happened?"
"We lost the rest of the building," the fire chief's voice strained voice came back. "The roof of the parking structure just completely caved in."
Scott… Virgil felt sick. He glanced at Gordon and saw his fears mirrored in his brother's eyes. "We've got to get these kids to the surface," he said, voice leaden.
Gordon nodded. "I know."
Virgil threw the Mole into overdrive.