Scott's head throbbed in time with his abdomen, unable to stop himself from falling into Gordon's supportive hold as they slid into the infirmary. His ribs jostled just enough to send a strangled groan from his throat, trying as best he could not to cry out.

"I've got ya, Scott," Gordon tried to sooth. "On the bed, I'll get you some meds and you'll be good to go."

The commander did as instructed, very much aware of the worry in his little brother's voice. Scott could only blame himself for putting it there. The trip down the access ladder had been smooth, the room clear of any hostile. It wasn't until they entered the lift room that their advantage had been lost.

Two uniformed men spotted the iR operatives the moment the door opened and Scott was the first to barrel into the closest. His chest immediately voiced its displeasure as they hit the ground, but he grit through it, the pain urging him to act. A fist fell across the man's face with an audible snap, dark eyes blinking away sparks with the impact.

Adrenaline had given his target the motivation to strike back, however, and an arm shot out blindly, catching Scott in the gut hard enough to steal his breath as pain seared through his ribs. It was a mistake that sent him flying backwards, the man springing off the ground, falling hard on the pilot and landing another blow across his face.

Stars flashed over his vision as it threatened to go out completely, the sound of Gordon calling his name lost to the rush in his ears. The weight on his chest disappeared a moment later and he learned of his little brother's actions to stop the assault after his mind had cleared. Scott hadn't been able to help secure the unconscious man, too busy trying to steady his breathing as each intake sent daggers through his abdomen.

The rest of the trip to the infirmary had been a blur, Gordon leaving him in empty rooms and a closet to do whatever needed to be done. There hadn't been any signs of a struggle or people left out in the open, much to the commander's relief. Now that they were in the infirmary, Scott could get a better look at his fish brother as he worked to gather supplies. His too quiet brother. So rarely did they have the chance to prove themselves in hostile situations and Gordon was handling it with a sort of cold professionalism. More so since their encounter with the crew on the enemy sub. That's what they were - enemies. No room for sympathy or leniency and it sucked the sunshine right out of the aquanaut.

Returning with a packet of pills, bottled water and supplies to wrap Scott's ribs, Gordon flashed him a wary smile, "These should help when I start wrapping your chest."

Clouded blue eyes offered appreciation as he took the pills and water, swallowing them even with the nausea that had settled into his gut. "Thanks, Gordon."

A chuckle and the snap of rubber gloves as the aquanaut shifted his attention to the anesthetic ointment, "Easiest and worst thing I've had to do today. I just wish the medscanner was working."

"I'll be okay… as soon as the meds… kick in," breathing still hurt more than Scott wanted to admit, but he offered a dimpled grin, hoping to alleviate some of his brother's worry. "Learn anything about these people?" The question was for both their benefit, keeping Scott's mind off the searing pain as Gordon applied the ointment as gently as possible.

"Not much," the blonde answered with an apologetic hiss as his ministrations resulted in a grunt from the pilot. He continued a moment later, "They appear to be paired in groups of two. Blunt force weaponry, but I did see one guy holding what looked like a handgun. My guess is they have a limited amount of those."

It made sense, but projectiles were a whole new level of danger for himself and his family. They'd need to be even more cautious. "How 'bout on the radio?" At this, Gordon produced the radio, flicking it on for them to hear.

[-plete. Unit three is dismantling sim units for Thunderbird 5 now.] The voice was feminine and steely, reminding him too much of Kayo and Scott wished she could be here to assist. Their training would only take them so far.

[Very good. We're on schedule.] A man's voice and the ton alone indicated he was in charge.

[The sub has returned, but we're unable to hail them. Shall I send a unit out?]

[Yes.]

And there went the little luck they had left. The moment these people set foot on the submarine they would know someone was on the island.

[Unit 2 - take one of the boats and rendezvous with the submarine.]

A beat of silence stretched over the radio as they waited for someone to respond. Maybe they didn't confirm commands? Simply give an order and assume it gets done.

[Unit 2?]

"Dammit," Gordon cursed, "do I answer?"

[Unit 2, do you copy?]

Scott's mouth felt dry, his addled brain trying to come up with a solution. If no one answered, suspicions would send the intruders on a hunt for the unit and potentially lose them the element of surprise.

Another second and Scott watched as amber sharpened with resignation and Gordon drew in a steadying breath. Lifting the radio to his face, he hit the transmitter and answered in voice so like Virgil's it hurt, "10-4, on our way now."

The comm came down and neither of them could breathe, waiting for the bottom to fall out. It never did as the voice moved on to other orders that involved dismantling their home. Gordon set the radio on the bed, finally letting out the tension in his chest and went back to treating his patient.

Scott, though relieved the strategy had worked, couldn't help but stare as he found his voice, "What was that?"

"Uh…simple response. Didn't want to elaborate any more than that," Gordon offered with a shrug. "Glad it worked."

"I meant the voice."

"Oh, that's my super serious voice," he grinned. "Surprisingly, some people don't respond to my spunky attitude very well. A little shift and they take me seriously."

"You sound like Virgil," it was an easier observation to discuss than the thought that Gordon needed a separate persona for certain rescues.

"So I've been told many times by John," and the grin widened.

Scott found himself smiling along with the knowledge that their observant brother wouldn't be too pleased at hearing Virgil's voice from Gordon's comm signal. "Haven't used the voice on me have you?" He meant it to be a joke, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake.

Gordon's ears grew a bright shade of red at being caught off guard. Any other situation and the blonde would have been able to brush the comment off with a laugh. Here, he was under stress to keep them both alive while patching up his big brother. There was no use in lying and if he tried, Scott would press. Either here or after they had their island back, the truth would need to come out.

A resigned sigh and Gordon answered, "Only a couple of times."

"A couple? As a prank?" Gordon's gaze fell, hands fidgeting with the bandage wrap at the questions. "On missions?"

The fidgeting stopped and the blonde's shoulders slumped as he looked anywhere but at Scott and grew animated, arms gesturing to locations that weren't relevant anymore, "It was only a couple times. Nothing major."

A spark of anger sent a frown across his face, igniting a need to be upright and with the medication numbing his injuries, it was a nearly painless task. Scott caught his little brother's gaze the moment he pushed himself off the medical bed, blonde brows knitting with concern as hands steady the pilot. "What times?"

"Scott, you need to -"

"What times?" He let his tone speak for him and the importance of knowing this information.

Gordon stared at him for a moment, silently debating what he should say, most brothers knowing that no answer was a worse option in terms of grounding and added training. Lips thinning with resolve, the aquanaut answered, "You were insistent on coming out to a rescue we had a handle on. Virgil was busy stabilizing the compound and you wouldn't listen to me… So I used the one brother you trust the most."

Scott knew the mission, knew how close Gordon and Virgil had come to having said compound fall on top of them. Thunderbird 1 had been dispatched to another rescue and he was nearly done when the call had come through the comms he'd been monitoring. The authorities were almost to his location and could have handled the rest, but at "Virgil's" insistence, Scott had stayed.

His frown deepened as the medication made it easier to speak, "And you wonder why I don't trust your judgement." And maybe it slowed his thought processes too much to realize what had just come out of his mouth.

The look of deep hurt flickered over his little brother's face before his expression hardened and he grew serious, "I need to wrap your ribs."

Regret was warring with his own feelings at being deceived and the best he could offer was a half hearted "Gordon."

"Not the time," his words were tense, taking on that of a rescue operative. "Hold still."

Scott did as instructed, arms lifting to allow his brother to secure the bandages around his torso. The silence that filled the room felt thick, but unavoidable as they both worked to get on with their current mission. Staying in one place was dangerous, even if it was the medical room.

Gordon was thorough, testing the pressure of the bandage to ensure Scott could move with little resistance. By the time they were finished, the commander felt ready to take on anyone outside the infirmary doors. The blonde left him to get his uniform back on, returning a minute later with a case of tranquilizer darts and the guns designed to hold them. He also had a handful of syringes holding a yellowish green liquid. Scott knew exactly what they were for with how close they'd had to get to some of the intruders. Projectiles would need to be saved for longer distances and multiple targets.

Pocketing the gear, Scott took a step towards the door only to run into an outstretched hand. Glancing over, he caught the aquanaut's steely gaze. "I'll take the lead. You cover me."

"I should be on point. You're a better shot," which was only somewhat true. Scott wasn't thrilled with the idea of Gordon heading into a situation blindly.

"Scott," his tone left no room for argument, taking on a hint of their heavy-lifting brother's without intending to. He hoped. "You're injured. Another blow like the one you just took and I'll be without backup. I'll take close combat. You shoot whoever I can't get to, got it?"

A fire burned behind the set of amber, effectively silencing Scott's rebuttal. His lips thinned, his hold on the dart gun tightening as he nodded, "FAB."

For a second, Gordon didn't move, waiting for big brother to tell him he was wrong and needed to follow his plan. Scott saw the sudden shift from defense to uncertainty and finally to command. It was only a moment, enough to let Scott's mind cycle back to their earlier argument before he was forced to shove the thoughts aside and follow his brother. His little brother who still thought it was hilarious to put dye in their shampoo. Who pitched a fit when he had to clean his room.

This was a different Gordon, one that Scott wasn't used to and so much of him wanted to fix that. Take the gun away and hide him in one of the safe rooms until everything was over. His brother would hate him for it, though, much like Scott hated the fact that he couldn't be the stronger sibling right now. Gordon was right, whether he liked it or not. Injuries got in the way of efficiency and could become hazardous if not taken into account. Glancing at his brother who likely had his own fair share of bumps and bruises, the commander made a promise. No matter what, he would do his job and keep them both safe, regardless of how the aquanaut might feel about it.

The door slid open on silent tracks, slow and steady before Gordon stepped out. The blonde disappeared for only as long as it took Scott to walk through the opening, nerves demanding he keep eyes on his brother. The hall was empty, save for the aquanaut, but he could hear the distinct sound of footsteps.

Moving with intent to ambush, Scott followed Gordon, gun at the ready for whatever came around the next corner.

A shout from behind and that singular plan carened sideways.

Scott spun, aiming for the larger of two men who appeared behind them and watched as they both fell. For a moment, the brunette couldn't figure out how he'd fired two shots with one gun until he heard the scuff of boots on linoleum. Turning back, Gordon was gone, a curse leaving Scott's throat at the first sign he might break his promise from less than a minute ago. Adrenaline powered his legs forward, sending him around the corner he suspected Gordon had gone around and he was forced to dodge a figure as they landed at his feet.

Not Gordon, an obvious conclusion based on the dark greys of the uniform, and Scott focused on the others in the hall. There had only been two, one already down, but the other was a tree, built thick and tall. He could have broken the aquanaut in half if it weren't for the fact Gordon was attached to his back and jamming a syringe into his neck. Strong hands reached for the blonde, catching tufts of hair in an attempt to rid himself of the assailant. Even with the sedative injected into his bloodstream, the man had enough strength to jerk Gordon free, tossing him to the floor before falling on top of him.

"Gordon!" The brunette hissed, concern for his brother and being overheard at odds as he ran forward. Muscles strained as he pulled the figure off, finding it easier as his brother assisted with a grunt of effort. Gordon was up a moment later, brushing a hand through his hair and ignoring the few strands that fell to the floor. "You okay?"

"I'm good," but the slight wheeze said otherwise. "Just catching… my breath. Let's go."

Without hesitation, Gordon reached down to grab the unconscious man's legs, dragging him back to the infirmary. The commander was tempted to leave the four intruders and continue on, but just one person could derail their entire plan if they happened upon the men. Taking hold of the other figure's legs, Scott followed his brother, silently hoping this would be the only group they ran into on their way to the lounge.