There had been a mission, years back when Gordon had just started, they were supposed to be limiting risks. By the book. Virgil had been adamant that he would stick to those rules until his little brother had gained enough experience to know how to see the other angles of a rescue. Not everything would be straight forward. Try as he might, however, some situations just didn't want to cooperate.
The mission had been to help a capsized vessel stuck in a storm. Virgil's idea had been to send down the chairs and have the people climb in to be lifted to safety. It would've been quick, easy, safe, but as they approached the scene, he had realized how much more difficult to plan would be.
The victims were nowhere to be found. When Gordon opened up comms, they discovered the group was still stuck inside the doomed ship. The aquanaut would need to head down and see to the rescue on his own. Virgil had been hesitant to approve the risky operation, but as he listened to the technical breakdown of everything Gordon would need, there was a steadiness in his brother's voice. It felt so much like one of Dad's plans, confident, nothing like what Virgil expected from his carefree brother. That was the moment he realized how much Gordon had grown into his own rescue capabilities. He knew he could trust the fish to do his job.
It had gone as smoothly as they could have hoped, the victims making it to the surface and the chair lift with Gordon's help. It wasn't until the final extraction that things went sideways. The last person was climbing into the lift when a wave crashed into the boat, sending it and Gordon into the swirling ocean. For a heart stopping moment, Virgil thought the worst. Even as the lift activated and drew the victims into the safety of Thunderbird 2, the dreaded idea that he'd lost a brother sent a chill through his veins, making it difficult to breathe.
And then, Gordon's voice had chimed through the comms, bright and full of excitement. He was okay. Better than okay. He'd survived a mishap, remained calm, used his skills until his big brother could fish him out of the ocean. Everyone would be going home.
As the dark and stormy world around him came back into focus,Virgil wished this situation was as simple. The ache in his stomach throbbed with the slow movement of the lift system. The others had chosen to follow by foot, leaving the injured man on his own. Given any other situation, he knew the view from the zipline would be close to perfect, a sight of a lifetime for some, but he couldn't enjoy this ride. Not with his world falling apart around him.
When the trip ended, Virgil sat in the wind and rain waiting for the others, hand pressed into the soaked bandages. He dreaded what lay underneath, medical training giving him a handful of complications that could leave him in the hospital for weeks, if he survived them at all. Bringing fingertips to his forehead, he couldn't feel any radiating heat, no fever, which was good. Time would tell on that front.
His mind wandered to the rest of his family, hoping his father had been right and Grandma would've avoided the island. He couldn't imagine what would happen if Tracy 1 had lost power, or if she actually landed only to be faced with a violent, unknown enemy. He shook the thoughts away, focusing on the other members he couldn't reach. John and Alan so far away. Mars needed them for a while, meaning there was no chance they'd be back in time to realize something was wrong. Kayo, Penelope and Parker were on assignment, limited communications a standard procedure.
The situation was hopelessly against them.
"Virgil?"
The raven-haired man blinked as a face appeared with the voice, his father looking concerned as he took hold of his son's shoulder.
"Dad," he wanted to say he was okay, but his throat felt dry and useless.
"I've got ya, son," a smile and Jeff lifted an arm over his shoulders, carefully pulling Virgil free of the lift. Brains appeared on his other side, both men taking much of his weight. Sam led the way as lightning streaked across the camp. A storm on top of a storm. Virgil groaned at the comparison and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Something would let up sooner or later. He just hoped it was in their favor. For everyone's sake.
The trip to the medical compound was a short one that resulted in a very shocked medic when Sam burst through the door spouting off everything that had happened. There were a great deal of gaps, but he knew enough to report a timeframe of injury. Dad filled in the rest after relinquishing Virgil to one of the medical beds.
It felt good to lay down, though he could still feel the sway of waves and he didn't dare try to move. As gloved hands moved his own off of the wound, Virgil peeked one eye open, content in the staff's abilities to keep him alive. As they left and returned with a scanner and medkits, he tried to listen to the reassuring voices. The sounds of the equipment were more than enough to lull him into a doze, lids sliding shut with lingering memories that told him he should really pay attention to the conversations on the other side of the room.
A spike of fire sent his eyes wide, a hand on Virgil's shoulder keeping him still as the medic spoke, "Easy, we're numbing the area for you. Shouldn't feel anything in a few moments."
Dark brown eyes shifted to see another figure holding a syringe and flashing him an apologetic smile as they continued to work. Virgil groaned out a curse despite the warning. True to her word, however, the next injection had lost most of its sting, a dull burn taking its place. Swallowing hard against the nausea that had surfaced, his voice came out a croaked whisper, "How bad is it?"
She frowned and he could see her debating if she should tell him, but as their eyes locked, she offered what she could, "You've lost a lot of blood and I suspect you'll be fighting off an infection, but the metal didn't make it to your organs. So that's a plus. We're going to clean what we can, pack it, and hope this storm clears up so we can get you to hospital."
As much as he didn't like the idea, Virgil knew it was their only option and he allowed himself to relax into the bedding once more. The pain was going further away by the second and as a warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, his father's voice taking over for the medic's, he gradually succumbed to the sleep his body demanded.
OoOoOoO
Gordon's fingers curled into his palm, the pressure of the tips helping to steady the building knot in his gut as he sat at the helm of the enemy sub. His head pounded with the thoughts warring for attention, demanding he figure out their next move while also dealing with what he and Scott would do once they made it back to the island. What could they do?
The headache was also a reminder of how much trouble he'd had with just one of their assailants. These people had the numbers that afforded them the upperhand in combat. If the two of them were going to have any chance, the plan would need to be dependent on stealth. They could manage that since it was their home. They knew the ins and outs, the hiding places, and where to find all the supplies they would need. He could appreciate that and start there. That is, once they made it onto the island.
"We're an hour out," Scott indicated from behind him, the knowledge only available to them once the commander had "borrowed" one of their captive's watches. They both had one on their wrist in place of their usual gear in order to coordinate movements if they needed to split up.
"I'll stop beside Mateo," Gordon's hand unclenched, fiddling with one of the controls as he spoke. "Hopefully, they won't be suspicious of the radio silence until well after we're inside. I don't think either of us could pull off Mr Grumpy McStrangles voice." He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow.
Scott did his best not to show he'd noticed, but the strain in his voice was always present when he was worried. "Sounds good. We'll be able to access the stairs and avoid the main house. I'm assuming they'll have set up their main operations in the lounge."
"I dare any of them to get into Grandma's leftovers," and he felt a burst of satisfaction at the idea. It would serve these goons right. "First stop, if it's not blocked, is the infirmary." At Scott's questioning look, he continued. "Those ribs aren't gonna do you any favors. We need to set them, anesthetic ointment, anything that'll give us an edge."
A nod, no argument, meant that the commander was feeling his injuries more than he was leading on. "Sedatives," Scott offered and Gordon immediately understood who they were meant for. They had multiple uses in their line of work, mostly for surgeries that wouldn't involve a hospital, but also hostile animals that stood between them and a rescue.
"As good a plan as any," a lopsided smirk and his grip loosened with the tension. Turning back to the sub's readouts, Gordon double checked their progress. Even with the advantages of knowing their home inside and out, there was still plenty that could go wrong. He would be ready to deal with whatever was thrown at them.
They had made good time, the peaks of Tracy Island appearing on the screens as Gordon brought the submarine up to the surface. He and Scott had moved back to Thunderbird 4 after a quick check on their captives and a stop for diving gear.
"Tank's secure," Gordon instructed after attaching the gear to his brother's suit. A quick test of the rebreather satisfied any concerns he had and the blonde took a seat next to Scott. His own mouthpiece hung around his neck, set for a dive into familiar waters.
"Ready?" Blue eyes regarded him for a moment, asking the question that could very well be answered with a no. They could abort and head for the closest port in New Zealand. Calling for help would give these people more time, more opportunity to harm their family. The thought of Dad and Virgil trapped or captured steadied Gordon's mind.
Glancing up at his 'bird, swaying on magnetic grapples, Gordon swore he would get her back, as soon as they took back their home. "Yeah, let's go."
They slid into the shadowy depths together, taking another moment to ensure the gear was working before they descended. Gordon had set the sub to a slow crawl into the caldera, the autopilot instructed to cut the engine once it was at the center. The intruders would be oblivious for a few minutes. At best, they wouldn't give the sub a second thought, too busy taking whatever they wanted from the island.
Scott was a strong swimmer, though he excelled on land, but Gordon could tell the pilot's injuries were hindering his usual form. The aquanaut didn't push him to go any faster than was necessary, but as they neared Mateo, he took the lead. Scott would be pissed, the risk falling solely on the younger brother as he made it to the wall of stone and surfaced. Amber eyes scanned the seemingly organic structure for movement. He wasn't naive enough to assume these people didn't know about it, given how easily they'd taken over.
Visibility was limited from his position, but there was the slight sound of boots, the image of a figure kicking absently at the loose stones and dirt settling in his mind. One set of boots - he could manage that.
Turning, Gordon found the next wave, hoisting himself out of the water as it crashed against the small island. Without missing a beat, he began climbing up the rocks he'd jumped off for fun no more than a week ago. Gone was the thrill, replaced by an urgency to neutralize the enemy.
Luck was on his side this time as Gordon found his target facing away from him. A plume of gray-white smoke appeared from around the man's face, making it clear how distracted he would be. Pouncing on the opportunity, Gordon ran, metal wrench in hand. Make it quick so they won't feel it until they woke up.
Only, luck had a way of flipping sides, something falling from the man's hand and causing him to bend down just as the weapon fell. It skidded off his back, eliciting a startled cry and Gordon knew he only had a second to shift.
Shocked blue eyes met amber as Gordon let the momentum of his miss give him the room necessary to send the wrench back at the invader's head. It partially succeeded, connecting with a cheekbone as an arm came up in defense. So much for quick and painless. Another swing at the dazed man and he fell.
Gordon crouched next to the figure, already working to drag him to a more secluded area and out of sight of the villa. By the time Scott joined him, the commander's expression one of silent disapproval, Gordon had the man's arms and legs secure. He knew his brother didn't like being sidelined and would have blamed himself if Gordon's plan had backfired, but there was no time to argue. They had to take advantage where they could, so before Scott could voice his concern, what looked like a radio was held out for him.
The tech was enough to appease the commander as Scott activated it, the sound of unfamiliar voices coming through. They listened to the commands for a moment, noting the lack of urgency. No one knew they were there… yet.
Turning off the communicator, Scott motioned for Gordon to follow. Hiding behind one of the outcrops, they peered over the edge, scanning their home for movement. "They've lowered the storm shielding," Scott offered with a mix of relief and frustration. The people inside wouldn't be able to spot them and the sub would go unnoticed unless the man they just took out had reported it.
"So much for knowing what they've got in there," Gordon hissed. "Any luck, they'll be spread too thin."
"Let's hope," the commander's hand landed on his shoulder, a wave of reassurance spreading through Gordon. Big brothers tended to hold that power, even in the bleakest of situations. It gave him a moment to breathe, to shove the attack on the unsuspecting intruder down into the box marked 'necessity'. He could dig it out later and process it in a safer space.
Standing, Gordon followed Scott to the emergency access hatch and as quietly as they could, they pulled it open. Below them lay a dark unknown wrapped in so much familiarity it hurt. It hurt to hesitate as they entered their home and the blonde let his anger bubble up a bit more, centering him on one clear goal.
Time to take back the island.