The impact with the surface of the water had knocked the wind out of him but he had managed to stay conscious. He could hear his brothers frantically searching for him but could not catch his breath, let alone respond.
The water was unbelievably cold. It seeped into his collar and seemed to almost burn his neck, wicking down inside his flight suit. He should have worn something a little more appropriate for a sea rescue but speed and agility had been the order of the day. Now he regretted that decision whole-heartedly.
"I see him! Virg, I see him!" Gordon cried frantically over the comm. and leaned carefully over the open cargo bay doors in the underbelly of Thunderbird 2. "John? John, can you hear me?"
John managed a weak mumble in reply.
"Can you get back on the platform?"
It was so cold that moving sent pain tearing through his limbs. Add to that the disorientation from his fall and John found himself slowly floundering in the water, unable to co-ordinate himself.
"Oh shit!" Alan suddenly shouted from his high vantage point in orbit somewhere above them. "Virg, you got multiple signals heading your way. They must have seen the explosion."
"Or they're coming to make sure it worked." Virgil suggested, "John? Now would be a good time, dude!"
"I'll go get him." Gordon stated firmly.
John had somehow managed to edge closer to the platform that rested on the surface of the sea and reached out for the railings. His vision was blurring, his head swimming with the effects of the plummet and the cold. He frowned in confusion as he then saw something heading towards him. And fast.
Gordon clenched his teeth as he slid down the cable towards the platform. His thick gloves burned against his hands and he closed his eyes as he gripped the metal cable between his feet and tried to slow his descent. He landed in the platform with a thud and took a second to steady himself before then scrambling over to the gap in the railings and leaning out to grab his brother.
"Gord?" Virgil called worriedly.
"I've got him!" Gordon replied hurriedly, groaning with the effort it took to heave John up onto the platform. "Let's move!" He closed the gate and crouched down behind John.
Gordon gripped the railings with one hand and held his brother tightly against him with his free arm, the wind tearing past them as the platform was dragged through the air behind the swiftly retreating green bulk of Thunderbird 2.
They made their escape as fast as they could, the platform slowly rising back up as the craft shot across the mainland, steering a wide course well away from the dangers of the Russia/Kazakhstan border.
oooo
"Is he okay?" Virgil called out as he hurried into the cargo hold. Now safely over the Pacific, he had engaged the autopilot and hurried back to ensure his brothers were secure.
Gordon waited for the cargo bay doors to lock firmly beneath him before he finally dared move. He then slid out from behind John and smiled as he saw the black box that his brother was somehow still desperately clinging to.
"Cold." John managed through clenched teeth.
"No shit!" Gordon laughed, relieved that his brother seemed unharmed. He pulled the helmet from John's head and frowned as he checked for any signs of head trauma.
Virgil opened the gate and clambered onto the platform to help Gordon lift John to his feet. John swayed weakly but managed to stumble between them and they hurried through to the relative warmth of the flight deck. He sank heavily into one of the wide chairs and moaned as his slowly warming body began to shudder.
Gordon carefully pulled the prized black box from John's tight grip and frowned in concern at the blood on his brother's suit.
"N-not … m-mine …" John shivered and managed a small smile.
Gordon nodded and reached up to undo John's suit. "We need to get these wet clothes off." He explained softly and turned to see Virgil hurrying off to fetch some blankets from the cargo hold.
"S-self … d-des-destruct."
"Figures." Gordon sighed. He stood and moved round John, gently but hastily pulling the flight suit and soaked undershirt from his trembling body. His eyes rested for a moment on the spider-web of recent scarring across John's back and he frowned in concern.
Gordon looked up as Virgil returned and met the same worry in his gentle face. They both remembered all too well the last time they had come to their older brother's aid amid the burning wreckage of a damaged Thunderbird 5 and they had hoped never to repeat the experience.
Virgil wrapped two thick blankets around John's shoulders and offered Gordon a smile of reassurance; this was nowhere near as bad as before.
"There." Gordon pulled the blankets close around John and wrapped his arms around his shaking form.
John leaned into him and murmured gently. "Th-th-thank you."
"No problem." Gordon smiled, "Say. That's a pretty good impression of Brains you got there."
"P-piss … off-ff!" John laughed.
Virgil chuckled in amusement and relief and sat himself back at the helm. "Thunderbird 2 to base."
"Go ahead."
Virgil flinched at their father's stern tone and glanced back at his brothers. "Um … we had some trouble but - "
"I know. Alan filled me in. Everyone okay?"
"We're fine." Virgil replied, turning back to watch John nodding shakily.
"Hurry back." Jeff urged.
"F.A.B." Virgil agreed and closed the connection. He looked down at the small black box that had been placed on the seat beside him and he frowned in concern. "What do we do with this?"
John tugged his blankets closer round his shaking shoulders and closed his eyes. "I sh-should b-be able to l-link it with th-the comm."
"Guys?"
Virgil spun back to the console before him and opened a channel. "Go ahead, Alan."
"Just thought I'd better give you a heads up. Dad's pretty pissed."
"Yeah," Gordon laughed softly, "We heard."
"But thanks for the warning, Sprout." Virgil smiled.
"Sure," Alan responded, "Oh. And I didn't tell him about the data-box-thingy."
Virgil and Gordon both turned to watch John in interest. He huddled further into his blankets and shook his head.
"Thanks, Alan." Virgil offered warily.
"No problem. 5 out."
"Why are we hiding this?" Virgil asked quickly and frowned in concern at his older brother.
John stood shakily and moved across to sit beside Virgil, picking up the box and examining it carefully. "It's US g-government property. He'll be angry th-that we took such a risk to st-steal it." He frowned as he turned the box over in his hands. "But th-there might be s-something important on here."
Virgil watched John clenching his jaw to try and stop his teeth from chattering and then looked down at his brother's trembling hands. "I hope so."
"Mmm." John agreed distractedly. "Just wish I kn-knew how to open it. Scott will, I guess."
"He's in enough trouble," Virgil reminded him softly, "And there's no time -we're only 12 minutes out from the island."
John looked up to frown at the bright sky over the pacific and suddenly just the sight of the cloudless blue made him feel a little warmer.
"Maybe Brains can take a look." Virgil shrugged.
John turned back to his brother and his frown returned as he considered the feasibility of this idea. Brains would no doubt be as curious as him in where any gadgetry was concerned but there was also the fact that he was often their father's confidante to consider. He looked down at the box and let out a broken, shivery sigh.
It then suddenly occurred to him that Gordon had been strangely quiet for a few minutes. John tore his eyes from the prize in his hands and turned to look back at his brother. "You okay?"
Gordon made no reply. He was carefully pulling one of his gloves from his hand and was leaning his face close to peer under the cuff.
"Gord?" John urged softly and stood to move towards the rear of the flight deck to stand beside him. "You okay?"
"Erm …" Gordon began quietly, flexing the fingers of his half-gloved hand carefully. "I think … um…"
"What?" John let go of his precious blankets, letting the sides swing open. He crouched down next to Gordon and followed his gaze down to his hand.
The thick green and white material was damp from where he had held onto a seemingly half-drowned brother and blackened with dirt. John's stomach then turned as he saw the blood that was also merged with the mess. He leaned closer and realised that the palm and fingers were actually torn slightly. He then remembered Gordon's rapid slide down the cable to the rescue platform and he understood what had happened.
Gordon slid the cuff further down his palm and caught his first glimpse of the damaged skin beneath. He sucked air in between his teeth and let go of the material in shock and revulsion, his flushed face paling rapidly.
"Oh dude …" John reached out timidly, taking hold of Gordon's wrist and angling his hand towards him.
"Ow!" Gordon protested involuntarily, snatching his hand back towards his chest and closing his eyes.
"What?" Virgil urged worriedly, "What's happened?"
John stood slowly and wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders, letting out a gentle groan of sympathy. He could well understand that after the adrenaline and excitement of his rescue had now begun to fade, the pain of Gordon's burned hands was only now sinking in. "I'm so sorry." John offered quietly, "God, I'm so sorry."
"S'okay," Gordon husked quietly, "I just hope that fucking box was worth it."
John closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of his brother's head, hoping that Gordon's angry words were in response to pain and not directed at him. He could feel his brother leaning into him and hugged him tighter, his own discomfort suddenly of little importance.
tbc ...