Chapter 2 is go!

"Are we there yet?"

"Do you have to say that every time you're up here?"

"Yep."

Virgil rolled his eyes and punched in the button that opened up the radio channel that linked to his older brother's aircraft. "Thunderbird 2 to Thunderbird 1. Do you read me?"

"Loud and clear Virgil."

"I've just crossed the Southern African plains and should be arriving at the danger zone shortly. How are things your end?"

"I've landed in Zakros on the Island of Crete. I've been speaking with the local police and they've updated me with the most recent weather information. The hurricane is now moving in an easterly direction with wind speeds of up to 128 miles per hour. It's pretty rough out there so no joyriding."

"She's handled worse."

"Just be careful out there, alright?"

"F.A.B." Virgil conceded.

"I've set up Mobile Control and am now awaiting radio communication with Marineville for further rescue details."

"Have you not heard from them then?" Virgil asked, figuring that to be a little odd.

"Not yet. John said something about their communications centre being down. He's talking with them now and figuring out what to do. I think he's planning to transmit a two-way radio link via Five."

"Their communications are down?" Gordon frowned. "I don't like the sound of that. There could be more going on than they're letting on."

"That really doesn't surprise me to be honest." Virgil deadpanned, turning his attention back to Scott. "Thanks Scott. Let me know when you hear from them."

"Sure thing, Virg. Over and out."

Virgil switched off the radio. The fact that the World Aquanaut Security Patrol's communications were completely down unnerved him a little. There was definitely something else going on. Trying not to get too bogged down in his thoughts, he turned to his younger brother. "You best start preparing Thunderbird 4 for the drop. It probably won't be long now."

Gordon nodded, jumping to his feet. Before leaving, he walked over to the pilot seat and held a hand on the headrest of his brother's chair, ducking a little to peer out of the large curved window making up the top half of the cockpit. Black clouds could be seen looming in the distance, the odd flash of lightning exploding in the clouds. Gordon whistled loudly. "This one's gonna be fun." he ran a hand through his auburn locks. "Think I better fill the nacelles with air, just in case I need to do an emergency ascent. I don't want to keep you waiting in THAT for any longer than I have to."

Virgil smiled at his brother's consideration. "Thanks, but I should be fine. As I said to Scott, she's handled worse. I'll just mosey around the outskirts of it and rendezvous with you when you're ready."

"Cool beans. I'm hoping this will be as simple as finding the sub, attaching a line, and towing her to safety. I won't even have to show my face."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Virgil mused, eyes flickering towards the encroaching storm. "Go on, get going. Just remember to strap yourself down. It's going to get rather bumpy up here shortly and you'll feel it more in the Pod."

"Yes dad." Gordon patted Virgil's head before turning and walking across to the cabin elevator at the back of the cockpit. Gordon strolled inside and turned on his heel as the cage door came sliding down. He cheerfully saluted his brother. "Be seeing you!"

"I hope..." Virgil muttered to himself once the elevator had dropped from the cabin. He sighed and faced the wall of thick black cloud which was steadily sweeping into view, hoping the rescue would go as easy as Gordon said it would.

Scott's fingers idly tapped against the middle column of the control module, awaiting his space bound brother to get in touch with him.

He'd practically been left in the dark since his last contact with John, and now the pilot was having to deal with other unwanted interruptions; namely, tourists. He turned back to see a large crowd trying to gather around his prized rocket, the police struggling to hold them back. Despite this, he was thankful that Captain Papadaki had been understanding of International Rescue's privacy, as well as the nature of the rescue itself. It wasn't everyday they were having to deal with the Navy.

He'd just have to deal with the excited sightseers in the meantime.

"I'm not a tourist attraction." Scott grumbled, turning back to his control panels. His controls soon lit up.

"This is Thunderbird 5 calling Thunderbird 1. You hear me, Scott?"

Scott flicked a button on the console, putting him through to the satellite. "It's about time you called me! Finally gotten back in touch with them, have you?"

"Yeah. They've been a little preoccupied with their communications blackout, but have just sent me the last coordinates recorded on the submarine's voyage data. I'll patch them through to you now."

"Thanks John." Scott recorded them down on his map, noting the position. "Not too far away from Alan's pinpoint then."

"Yeah, it's around the same area they reckon, but with this moderate swell and wind force, it's likely to have been moved by the tide."

"Great. I'll fill Gordon in when I get a chance."

"Oh, and I have the World Aquanaut Security Patrol on the line for you. I'll connect them through now."

"Thanks John." Scott waited for the radio line to clear. A few moments later, a cheerful voice joined the line.

"Hello? Is this International Rescue?"

"Yes, this is International Rescue. Hearing you strength five."

"This is Marineville Control Centre. Can I just say how much of an HONOUR it is to even be speaking to you, sir? I follow all of your rescues closely and just knew you'd guys would jump at the chance to help us!" said an energetic voice that sounded oddly like John's.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the obvious excitement in the voice of the young man on the other end of the radio, not expecting any of the WASP personnel to come across as so chipper and informal. "Uh... you're welcome?"

"Fisher, get away from that darn microphone!" a gruff voice entered the conversation, killing off the excited one. "Damn boy scout. Ahem. Commander Shore here. Sorry about my lieutenant, and the delay in contacting you. We've been having some problems."

"Yes, I've been told. My colleagues have almost arrived so we'll be commencing the rescue shortly. Can you tell me more about the missing submarine?"

"First I must have your reassurance that these details and specifications will not be repeated. The missing submarine is one of our top vessels so secrecy must be maintained."

"I understand, sir. These details will not be repeated outside our organization."

"Good. The vessel is an 85 foot long hydrojet submersible. Weighs about 320 tons. Her name is Stingray and has a crew of three - all were on board at the time of its disappearance. By my calculations, they should have about an hour's air supply left on board. This is all I can give you right now."

"Thank you, commander."

"Listen up, mister. As much as I'm unhappy about asking for outside help with our personal affairs, I know when I'm beat and need the assistance. As your colleague may have already told you, we've experienced a complete power failure here in Marineville. Despite this we managed to send out rescue aircraft to search for the sub, but that blasted hurricane was too powerful and cut the trip short. I hate to admit it, but our aircraft do not have the same capabilities that yours do. This is why I'm counting on you to save Stingray."

"Message understood, sir. My colleagues and I will keep you informed about the situation and let you know as soon as we've found her."

"Thank you. My two lieutenants will be on standby, awaiting your call. Over and out."

Scott disconnected the link. He repeated the information he'd just been told so it would remain fresh in his mind. "320 tons? Gee, I hope Thunderbird 4 will be able to cope with pulling that dead weight..."