Scott's chest thundered with the fading sound of the gunshot, his eyes frozen on his little brother as the intruder fell to the floor, clutching at a potentially shattered nose or cheekbone. He didn't care which as long as the man didn't get back up.
Gordon took a step, Scott's heart stuttering with the movement and he watched the gun slide into the far wall as his brother kicked it away.
"Gordon?"
"Think you can get everyone secure?" The blonde asked as he nudged the groaning man before kneeling down to restrain his arms.
Shifting his attention to the group of cowering intruders still hiding in the recess of the lounge, Scott understood the haste needed in case one of them found their nerve. He would worry about his brother when the threat was reduced.
The tranquilizer gun rose to aim at the group and he got to work, "All of you, on your stomachs, hands behind your head." Without any further instruction, they did as they were told. Making it down the steps as he retrieved a handful of zipties, Scott nudged the foot of a smaller figure who tried to shrink away from the contact. "You…get up." The tone of his command had the person - a woman - on her feet, fear shaking through her entire form. First responder instinct had him wanting to calm her nerves, but he pushed the urge back as he handed her the restraints. "Secure everyone's hands and feet."
It took a few painstaking minutes for her to finish the task and when she did, her voice was a shaky whisper, "Wh-what are you go-going to do with us?"
Without answering, Scott held out his free hand, gesturing to the remaining zipties. Once they were in his palm, he told her to turn around. As he secured her hands, his control of his anger growing, he answered, "You're going to sit here and wait for the GDF. After that is up to them."
There must have been a wave of relief brought on by those words as she sank onto the sofa, allowing Scott to tie her ankles together. "You're not going to kill us?"
He scoffed, a new frustration blooming, "We don't kill people. We rescue them."
"But all of Professor Wilkes's officers?" Her gaze moved to the men still out cold on the upper level.
"Tranquilizers," Scott offered simply. "All of you stay put or I won't hesitate to knock everyone out. Got it?" Crystal blue locked onto the woman and she nodded. "Good."
Relinquishing is attention on to intruders, the commander zeroed in on his brother who was now shuffling to their father's desk, his right hand covering his chest in a way that made Scott's heart plummet. He was across the lounge and up the steps in seconds, strong hands taking hold of Gordon's shoulder that wasn't leaking vital fluid.
"I'm okay," the aquanaut winced as he was led to the leather chair. "Not there - Dad'll be pissed…"
"Dad can get a new one, sit down." It didn't take much to force Gordon into the seat, a groan leaving his throat as his left arm moved. Scott ignored it in lieu of the concern over the red oozing through gloved fingers. Reaching into his baldric, he found the medpack where it usually resided, knowing full well it wouldn't be enough. Tearing it open, gentle fingers began to pull away the hand covering the wound. It was only for a moment, just enough time for Scott to slip in the wad of gauze, but the flow of blood was alarming. "Just hold this here and stay still."
"Keep your eyes on the … the hall. Could be some stragglers," Gordon warned, an amber gaze surveying the room. He didn't try to get up, however, allowing Scott a moment to consider his next move.
"Gotta shut off whatever's blocking communications," blue eyes pinned the group of intruders that were still conscious, wondering if or when he would need their assistance in that task. At the present, he didn't trust them enough to nog give away their situation to the rest of the groups wandering the island. Surveying his father's desk, he found schematics of all the Thunderbirds and their gear, not unexpected from people intent on disrupting their lives.
The brunette shifted his attention to the gear at the center of the lounge, narrowing in on an open case that didn't hold anything he recognized. It wasn't glowing an ominous red or humming with malintent, but as he approached it and saw the way the woman on the sofa tried to hide her shock, Scott knew he'd found what he was looking for. The only problem was, he couldn't see a clear way of turning it off. No switch or button, only an opaque glass covering the internal workings.
It appeared he needed assistance after all.
Directing his question to the woman once more, Scott asked, "How do you turn it off?"
She stumbled to find her voice for a moment, but eventually offered an whispered, "Only Prof Wilkes can operate it."
"Where is the professor?" Please be in the room, because another venture into unknown hostilities wasn't ideal in either operatives' condition. Her eyes moved to his right and Scott turned to see the man who had shot his brother. "Him?" He pointed and she confirmed, Scott feeling a sudden sense of relief overtaking his anger towards the figure.
"I won't -" it appeared the professor was listening, inching away from Scott as he approached only to curl into himself as the pain in his face cut off his refusal.
"I wasn't giving you the option," Scott growled, taking hold of the man's elbow and pulling him up to sit. If it hadn't been for the pilot's ribs suddenly reminding him of their state, he would've thrown the professor over his shoulder. Instead, Scott was forced to unclip the man's legs, blue eyes daring him to even try to run. "Let's go," he barked as he hooked a hand into the man's arm once more and hauled him up.
Half dragging, half supporting, Scott eventually got his captive to the crate, not stopping to ask as he wrenched the man's arms up and around to press against the glass he now recognized as a hand scanner. The cries of protest did nothing more than annoy him and he held firm until the scan completed and a new holoscreen appeared, the words 'Optical Scan Ready'.
A hissed curse and he spun the professor around to face the device. Nothing happened. One look told Scott what was wrong and his voice dropped into a deep growl, "Open your eyes."
"No," defiance that exceeded stupidity.
"Open your eyes or I'll rip them out."
"You wouldn't," but there was a quiver of hesitation.
"You shot my brother. You'll be lucky if that's all I do," Scott knew his limits, knew he wouldn't kill the man, but if the only thing standing between him and getting Gordon help was this jerk, he wouldn't be hard pressed to take what he needed.
Seconds ticked by as the machine waited and Scott's grip on the man grew until a quiet chime echoed through the room. Breath held in tired lungs, the commander waited. The air rushed out of him in one as a burst of static turned into chatter from open communications.
Scott quickly dropped the professor to the floor, binding his legs once more before bounding up the steps to find Gordon pawing at the desk with his free hand, a list of calls hovering above the dark oak. The frequencies narrowed until the sounds of voices became those of GDF dispatch and Scott took over once his brother's arm sank back to his side.
"Tracy island to GDF dispatch, we are in need of immediate assistance," Scott spoke with a steadiness he clung to.
"Tracy island, please verify your clearance," a woman answered, her voice an even contrast to his rapidly beating heart.
"Sierra Tango 3497 Tango Bravo 1."
"Scott Tracy, please advise, what is your situation?"
"Multiple hostiles on site, EMP device took out communications and our Thunderbirds. We have some of the hostiles neutralized, but we suspect more are unaccounted for," and potentially on their way to find out what was going on with the EMP being shut down.
"Request for assistance has been approved," no amount of professionalism could have hidden the shock Scott detected. "Units are being deployed to our filed location for Tracy Island. Are the hostiles armed?"
"Small firearms from what we've encountered. They have a submersible, but we secured the crew. They shouldn't be…" Scott's voice trailed off as an open communication link cut through the filters Gordon had set. That was only possible for someone if they had a very specific frequency code that could contact a Thunderbird or the island directly.
Without another thought, Scott connected the call and nearly shouted as the voice came through, "This is Jeff Tracy to International Rescue."
"Dad?!" Anything else he had to say to the dispatcher was lost to the need for knowing his family was safe.
"Scott! Thank goodness you're okay! There's been an attack on the island," the warning came out in a rush.
"We know. The GDF are on their way. Where are you?"
"We're safe at the Raoul research station, but Virgil's been injured and there's a pretty bad storm over the area. We won't be able to get him to the mainland until it's passed."
He wanted to know more, but chatter over one of the nearby handheld radios caught his attention. Gritting through the anxiety building in his gut, he kept his voice low, "Once this is over, I'll take One and pick you up. Gotta go." Before either call could respond, the brunette cut the links, plunging the room into silence. The GDF would be here soon, all he had to do was get himself and Gordon to the nearest safe-room and wait. His eyes fell on the device that had caused all of this and knew it would need to come as well. Heading back down into the lounge, Scott shut the lid and pulled the case off the stand. He grunted with the unexpected weight as it pulled at his ribs.
"Virgil's hurt?" Gordon asked with a hint of a slur that only added to Scott's nerves once he returned to his brother's side. Helping Gordon out of the chair, he could see the trail of red making its way down the blue neoprene, the gauze already soaked through.
"Dad's with him. He'll be okay." Scott had to hold onto that hope even as his mind tried to spin a thousand possibilities. Virgil would be okay. "You and I are going to go wait for backup."
"Good plan," Gordon let himself be led whether it was necessary or not, the commander keeping his eyes on the entryway from the kitchen as they moved backwards past the piano. The only activity in the room were the intruders still restrained on the floor and he wasn't going to assume they'd keep quiet if one of their own rounded the corner.
That thought had Scott turning around, ignoring the potential threat in order to hurry to the billiard cues attached to the wall. The hidden access pad slid open just as the sound of boots filled the hall behind them. Fingers keyed in the code and just as the first shouts bounced around the lounge, the safe-room hissed open. Gordon was in first, aided by an elder brother bent on protecting him. The door slammed shut and locked behind them, effectively ending their part in the battle for their home.
Now, all they had to do was wait.
Scott dropped the case and swiped at the room's light controls, squinting as it brightened with newfound electricity. The relief it brought was short lived, however as he watched his brother sway into the wall. He was by his side in one quick step, catching the aquanaut before he could fall. "Easy, Gordon. I've got ya."
"Thanks," Gordon let out in between intentional breaths, a short chuckle following as he was led to the cot extending from the other wall. "Seem to be losin' my land legs."
Scott smiled despite his concerns, recognizing the jovial coping method, "Sit and I'll see if I can help you keep them." Gordon complied without fuss, leaning against the wall with eyes pinched shut. He stayed quiet as Scott moved around the small room, dragging open drawers meant for moments like this, but none of them had ever truly imagined using. When he returned, the blonde appeared to have fallen asleep, head tilted to the side and looking a lot younger than he should. The moment the commander's fingers pulled back the blood soaked bandage, amber eyes flew open, watching him intently. "Relax, Squirt. I just need to check."
"Hurts," Gordon whined, his hand trembling in the brunette's as he moved it aside.
"Hey now, where'd that badass who took out an entire room of goons go?" Scott kept his voice light as he worked even if his heart felt otherwise at the sight of the still flowing blood. Must've nicked an artery, he thought grimly, knowing how much pain he would need to put his little brother through to patch him up.
Gordon chuckled, "Think I left him out there… with my adrenaline. Just wanna lay here."
"Not just yet, but soon. I need to get your belt off and get this arm free so I can bandage it," no matter how much Scott tried to make it sound so routine, amber eyes met his, a silent plea floating between them. "I'll try to be as quick and gentle as possible."
"I know…I'll be fine," a cheeky smile brightened the aquanaut's tired features. Scott took it as an invitation to get to work, carefully helping his brother sit forward in order to get the yellow baldric off and unzip the suit. The hard part was getting Gordon's arm free, the two of them deciding to pull both arms out in one go. Scott tried to ignore the pained grunt that turned into a whimper as the fabric moved past the wound and down the blood soaked undershirt.
When the sleeve finally came off, Scott let his mind fall back to his medical training, cutting away the sleeve of a shirt Gordon would never see again, packing a thick layer of gauze over the hole someone had put into his brother. Not someone… the culprit still lay out in the lounge. Prof Wilkes was lucky to walk away with only a busted nose.
Blue eyes flicked momentarily to his brother's face, noting the concentration under the sheen of sweat on Gordon's brow. The aquanaut was trying twice as hard to stay still as Scott was trying to be efficient. "Almost done, Fish," Scott offered as he checked Gordon's back to confirm there wasn't an exit wound. Third check and still no sign of the bullet leaving his brother's shoulder, but he didn't curse. Didn't growl at the fact that bullet shrapnel was still in the blonde's body and some might not be removable. Gordon was alive and that was enough for the commander to start wrapping the wound as tight as he could to slow blood loss.
"Mmm… th't sucked," Gordon groaned once the task was over and Scott helped him lay down.
The brunette ran ungloved fingers over his face as he took a seat next to the cot, his own energy spent and ribs protesting with the fading of medication. "I know," the hand landed in the disheveled blonde hair, "just try to relax. The GDF should be here soon if they aren't already."
"Kay's gonna… kick some…" Gordon trailed off, too exhausted to complete the image of their sister taking on anyone left in their home.
"Ass?" Scott chuckled as the word brought a weak smile to his little brother's face.
"Was gonna say butt… Some of us… h've to be… civ'lized," one amber eye peeked out to assess for the desired reaction.
"Job's all yours, Squirt. I'm sure Lady Penelope appreciates it," the tease came with a purpose, allowing Gordon to distract himself on his own level.
"Y'know… I caught her laughin' once," the memory added to the grin. "Was talking to some…mmm… some hoity-toity types and… I might've insulted them… nicely."
"How do you insult someone nicely?"
"They were talkin' junk about a competitor… so I thanked 'em for the… the investment advice and that I'd be happy… to check out their competition," a chuckle turned into a wince.
"Did you?"
"Yes… mostly 'cause they were really obnoxious."
"And did you actually invest?" This was more John's cup of tea, but Scott would be hard pressed to say he wasn't interested in where their money went outside of Tracy Industries and International Rescue.
"Nah, they were both… pretty bad. Ended up…investing in a smaller company… They could do the same thing, but better." Content with his reveal, Gordon let his eyes drift shut, his breathing indicative of the pain he was trying to reduce.
Scott let the silence take hold for a moment, watching his little brother settle. Gordon looked so much younger than he was, the last few hours not matching the vulnerability of the kid he'd practically helped raise. The commander felt heat build in his ears as the memory of their argument in the infirmary resurfaced now that the crisis had calmed. What had Gordon said? Why had he needed to deceive his brother like that? The brunette swallowed back the anger to try and remember, but he already had his answer. Laying on the cot was a very capable young man who could handle nearly any situation life threw at him and Scott couldn't stop seeing a child. Gordon had always been the energetic, jokester who butted heads with his big brother. He was the kid who swam all day and slept on the beach until Scott or Virgil came to collect him. Gordon was a constant worry on the commander's mind, but somewhere over the years, that little brother had grown up. The jokes were still there, along with the hot tempered disagreements that still sent Scott's blood pressure soaring. At the same time, he could undermine an entire organization, either through investments or a fist to a nose.
"...sorry." It slipped out before Scott could stop it.
"F'r what?" A groggy response.
His jaw tightened, unsure of how to follow the abrupt apology. Clearing his throat, his hand brushing damp blonde bangs off his brother's forehead, he answered, "Nothing, just get some sleep." They could talk about it later.
"M'kay… wake me when somethin' cool happens."
A warm, dimpled smile pulled at the brunette's face, "FAB little brother."