Thunderbirds Blast Off! Chapter 4: The Target, a thunderbirds fanfic

Thunderbirds Blast Off

By Lee Homer

The Target

In 2065, the world's powers harnessed the power of remote control. It enabled them to monitor various flights from the safety of a control room instead of wasting manpower. They mostly employed the technology in their freighter aircraft, which would carry supplies and vital equipment to bases all over the world. The automated equipment was hailed by the top brass as the best investment they had ever made, but it wasn't fallible. Anything could go wrong, which sadly, it did.

It was another quiet afternoon passed through Tracy Island, the remote secret island headquarters of International Rescue. A fierce but friendly rivalry between the Tracy brothers occupied their downtime in the family's shooting range. Scott and Virgil enjoyed competing with one another, each flexing their shooting skills. After completing a few rounds, Scott fired at an approaching wooden target which swayed from side to side. Virgil smiled smugly when his older brother missed the last target. Scott looked at him with a devilish look and took a step back. He gestured for Virgil to take his turn. Virgil sniggered, aimed his gun at the advancing target and squeezed the trigger.

"Okay, Virgil, you've got three shots to go." He said with a smile.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, and they've got to hit the centre mark to beat you."

He continued firing until he emptied the chamber in his gun. Proud of his score, he walked over towards the target and studied it. He held it up to show his brother.

Virgil huffed but like a true sportsman, congratulated his brother. "Guess you win this time, Scott. Good shooting."

Their shooting contest was interrupted by a call from the main lounge. Their father summoned them through the intercom.

"Scott, Virgil. Could you come to the lounge please?"

Scott acknowledged the call. "FAB, we're on our way."

While the two brothers made their way out of the shooting range, Jeff and Brains had lost themselves in a game of chess when a call came through from Thunderbird Five. The eyes on John's wall painting flashed a brilliant white. Jeff abruptly left the came to take the call. John's face flashed on the hidden TV monitor.

"I've just received a disturbing report from the US Army," He began. "They report that a robot-controlled air freighter, carrying high explosives is not responding to the ground units. The operator has tried everything to regain control, but she's running wild. It's heading straight on a line for Tokyo. If it crashes, there will be a major disaster."

Jeff nodded and turned his gaze towards Brains, International Rescue's genius inventor and engineer. It was by this time, that Scott and Virgil joined them. The look of urgency in Jeff's eyes pressured Brains to come up with a solution.

"How bad is it, Brains?"

The little scientist and inventor pondered for a moment. "Well, without a manual control beam, the chances of bringing down safely are slim."

"Then what can we suggest to the ground control?" Jeff asked.

"There's only one solution," Brains replied. "The freighter should be d-destroyed,"

With a nod of approval, Jeff approached his desk microphone. He hoped he could alert the Army in time.

Cruising at a top speed of 14,000mph, high above the South Pacific the AWOL robot freighter hurtled through the brilliant blue sky on course with its target. It was composed of a shiny silver alloy that reflected the light around it. An automated missile base, situated on an unmarked island, detected the projectile on the radar. Its armament of missiles emerged from their underground silos and angled themselves skywards. The sun reflected on their armoured tips. Jeff's message came through just in time. The Army activated their automated missile defence on the island. As it sped overhead, the six missiles spewed out a cloud of vapour. Then, after a five-second countdown, they launched, thundering into the sky towards their target. The first three missiles stuck their target with pinpoint accuracy, but they failed to drop the robot renegade. Then, the second three missiles struck the target, but they too failed to stop her. Another volley of missiles came and then another until they peppered the sky with explosions.

Up in Thunderbird Five, John kept an open channel with Tracy Island. He heard the exasperated groans of the ground controllers over the radio monitor. The attack had failed, and they knew why. Within a few minutes, John relayed the update to his father.

"They tried to stop it with missiles, Father, but they failed to blast it. They report that the freighter has an automatic defence shield designed to protect it from an attack. It can't be intercepted."

Jeff looked around the room. Scott, Virgil and Brains put their heads together to think of a solution. Then, Brains snapped his fingers at a sudden revelation.

"Of course! That's standard procedure to protect the aircraft from attack!"

Virgil didn't like the reality of the situation. "Then it can't be stopped, and Tokyo is doomed!"

But Brains had an idea. "Perhaps not, V-Virgil," He replied. "I have a plan that might just work."

Thoughtfully, Brains left the lounge, keeping the family in the dark. Scott shrugged his shoulders in puzzlement.

"Why didn't he explain his idea?" He wondered. "I guess we'll have to sweat it out until he's ready."

Jeff agreed. "I'm afraid so, Scott. You know Brains never commits himself until he's sure."

Sometime later, Brains emerged from his lab, carrying a bronze, cylindrical object in his hands. He plastered a smile of achievement across his face.

"Yes, I think it will work!" He said excitedly. "This d-device should counteract the force field, but it only operates from close range."

Jeff raised his brow. "What exactly do we do, Brains?"

"Scott will carry this device in Thunderbird One and fly close to the freighter.," Brains replied as he briefed the family of his plan. "Virgil will wait for the right moment to fire the missile from Thunderbird T-Two at the robot ship. Now, because of her slower speed, Thunderbird Two must be in the area and ready. I understand the freighter will pass close to the island."

Jeff smiled. "I get it, Brains. Scott takes off when the freighter passes over. "

Scott bolted from his seat. He took the device from Brains with an eager smile. Brains adjusted his thick spectacles as Scott beckoned his brother to follow him. He carried the device to Thunderbird One with a set of installation instructions. While he installed the device, Virgil traversed the conveyor beltway down into Thunderbird Two's sprawling hangar bay. He slid down into the cockpit of Thunderbird Two, swinging down into a sitting position behind the steering wheel. His uniform appeared from a compartment in the floor as the beltway retracted from the cockpit. Flipping a big red lever, he selected Pod Two, which carried an armament of Hydromic Missiles. Once the pod clamped into place, the concealed hangar doors lowered, revealing the short runway ahead. Virgil steered Thunderbird Two out of the cliffside hanger and taxied her down towards the end of the runway. Once he made it, the launch ramp angled him into the sky. He hit the thrusters, propelling Thunderbird Two into the sky. As soon as he levelled off, he steered a course for a point in advance of the island. Then suddenly, the island's tracking station flashed to life, replacing Alan's wall portrait. Jeff rubbed his chin as the robot freighter approached overhead. He gave Scott the all-clear to launch.

"The freighter's approaching now!" He barked. "Away you go, Scott."

The swimming pool slid to one side, revealing Thunderbird One below. Scott hit the thrusters, and the fast sleek rocket plane blasted into the sky. As soon as he reached a suitable altitude, he levelled off and proceeded to pursue the robot vessel.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two. I'm switching on the device, Brains gave me," He announced over his radio. "Are you ready, Virgil?"

Standing by in Thunderbird Two, Virgil acknowledged his older brother.

"Yes, Scott," He replied. "I'm tracking your approach on my instrument panel. I'll move in four minutes. I hope my shooting is more accurate than it was in the gallery, this morning. If I miss, the freighter will wipe out Tokyo and millions of people."

Scott had faith in his brother. He continued to tail the robot ship, keeping clear of its force field.

"You can do it, Virgil. Just don't miss it. One slight error and Thunderbird One is toast."

Closing in on the target, Scott switched on the device and hoped for the best. The small cylindrical device hummed into life, vibrating the control cabin. Scott had no way of knowing it the device worked or not. He sat back in his seat with a sense of unease. It was all over to Virgil. Virgil trained his eyes on the freighter as it whizzed across his field of vision. He flipped a switch on the control console. A hatch slid open on the underside of the pod and a small missile launcher lowered. Virgil lined it up with the target, breathed heavily and thumbed the firing button.

He held his breath for a moment and said. "Missile away! I hope this works!"

The missiles streaked across the sky towards the freighter, striking her in its engines. Scott pulled away to avoid the impact, but the explosion rocked his aircraft. With its force field disabled, the robot freighter exploded into smithereens. Its remains splashed into the water below. Scott wrestled with the controls as his Thunderbird spiralled out of control. His muscles tensed as a panicked Virgil called out to him.

"Scott, are you alright! Pull her out, Scott!"

Scott threw back on the throttle, pulling himself out of the crash-dive. Thunderbird one levelled up, skimming the water with its rear tail fin, Scott felt the bones in his hands rattle as he gripped the controls and wrenched them back. Then, he watched the sky replace the ocean in his side window. He managed to regain control as the tail end of his craft skimmed the surface of the water. Eventually, the controls eased and Scott found himself back in the air. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face as his adrenaline levels eased.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two," He panted. "Everything's under control. Good shooting, Virgil. Guess you got your eye in when it counted."

Virgil rejoiced over the radio. "Yes, but I've had enough target practice for a month. Let's go home."

Virgil laughed loudly to himself in response. He felt the adrenaline leave his body, restoring it to its resting state. Matching their height and speed, the two Thunderbirds returned home.

END