Six
"Detonator disabled." The Mechanic's voice was a murmur as he delved deep into the electronic guts of the crudely constructed bomb built around the sleek stealth mine core. "Core exposed."
Brains was dimly aware of the conversation between The Mechanic and Marion as she issued short, clipped instructions and he carried them out. The greater part of his attention was focused on the control panel attached to MAX as he and his assistant fenced with the bomb's systems, tricking them into thinking they were receiving the 'system ok' signals from the dangerous end of the device.
He wasn't usually one for metaphors, but it occurred to Hiram that The Hood probably did not play chess. He probably would have owned a chess set at some point- ornate and intricate, sitting on a table and ready to play- but it would have functioned as a decoration only. Chess required forethought, anticipation and planning not only your moves but what your opponent would do in response and guiding those responses to ones that favoured you. Chess was a game played in the open- your opponent knew what you had to hand and every move your pieces could make.
If anything, The Hood probably played poker- a game relying on luck, bluff, manipulation and guile. You knew what you had, you could guess what the other players might hold, but if you could fake it well enough you could control the game because no one knew for sure what were the other cards in play.
That attitude seemed to show up in his planning often enough- brazen schemes that worked until they didn't, a poker face and bluff that fooled all others until someone like International Rescue threw a wild card into the mix and his carefully constructed facade came crumbling down.
It was to their advantage that the Tracys and Kyranos all played chess and poker. They could plan several steps ahead, bluff and make their plays with the cards held close to their chests or with all the pieces out in the open. They could work with luck, pick the best of only bad options, or pull the ace from the hole and make some luck of their own.
A celebratory warble from MAX drew his attention- The Mechanic was hauling the plutonium sphere out of the bomb. "G-good work! MAX, now!" Brains and The Mechanic stepped back as his assistant sent a surge of electricity into the bomb, fusing relays and frying microchips. The knot of tension in his gut that he hadn't even been aware of unravelled in seconds as Brains activated his radio. "J-john, it's done, the bomb is neutralised!"
"F.A.B."
0o0o0
Scott's writhing and cries of pain cut Kayo like so many knives, but she forced herself to ignore him and focus on the threat of her uncle advancing towards her, armed with the taser on his controller in one hand and the auto injector poised and ready to deploy in the other.
"Come now Kayo, spare yourself and Scott the pain." He urged in that silken, superior tone. "If you'd just cooperate, it would make things so much easier for everyone. The longer you don't, the more he suffers."
"Never." Was her snarl, backing up towards the cargo plane for cover, her quick mind planning options.
Static crackled in her ear, then "The bomb is disabled, EMF activating in five. Get him." Only the void of space could be colder than John's harsh voice right now, backed by the sound of rocket engines firing.
It was well known in the family that Scott had a level of pain tolerance that let him get up when most others couldn't. Gordon was the only one who could match it- pain was an old friend of Gordon's. So when the EMF generator hidden in the belly of the cargo plane surged into life with a thrum of electricity that made static crackle in their hair and the lights on The Hood's controller die, it was no surprise to Kayo when Scott shrugged off the lingering pain and rolled to his feet in a smooth movement, blue eyes narrowed, fists clenched and lip curled in a snarl. Behind him, his brothers threw off their shrouds and staggered upright, searching for their enemy and forming up behind Scott when they found him.
Confronted by five IR operatives ready and willing to do damage, Kayo had expected The Hood to look at least a little daunted.
She wasn't expecting him to laugh in derision.
"Do you really think that bomb was the only failsafe I have?" The Hood taunted, turned and ran, striking out west.
"Scott! No!" Kayo called out as Scott roared in anger and gave chase. "Come on!" She yelled to the others as she started after Scott and The Hood, sensing a trap.
The race should have been over in minutes- Scott was the runner of the family, capable of marathons. But he was exhausted, lingering tendrils of pain knocked his stride off kilter and his reserves had been depleted even before he took off from Tracy Island. His brothers and sister fared little better- the boys all stiff and numb from the pills that faked their deaths and lying still for so long and Kayo had been flying for hours by this point.
In comparison The Hood was fresh, rested and in peak physical condition as he raced for the ICBM crater in the western edge of the island- a sheer drop down to the sea- and quickly gained a long lead on them. Scott was a few metres behind and Kayo led the pack trailing behind her.
The Hood was within metres of the lip of the crater when a GDF drop shuttle screamed in low, its hull smoking from the steep-angle re-entry, and made a belly down landing in front of him, tearing sheets of sod from the ground as it cut off his escape route with it's bulk. The Hood stumbled back from the heat radiating off the shuttle, then checked his controller and smirked. "No matter, we're far enough away now and I daresay this should be a good distraction. Goodbye, Scott Tracy." The Hood sneered, aimed his controller at Scott and brought his thumb down on the side button.
Scott abruptly staggered and stopped with a strangled gasp, clutching his chest as his breathing cut short. Then his eyes rolled up and he crumpled in the withered grass like a dropped ragdoll, the ashen colour of his skin proclaiming death far louder than words could.
