"This place is boring, there's nothing to do, the pub doesn't even open until later. Who even does that, only opening in the evening?" Carl asked, yanking up another handful of grass and letting it fall slowly between his fingers. Even the grass was crap, how was it possible that any place on earth could be so dull?
"People in this backwards town," his friend, Jamie, sneered, clearly as underwhelmed by the whole thing as Carl. "I can't believe this is the place that Carrie wants to get married in. When she said that her parents lived in a little village, I didn't think she meant this small."
"It's an historic village," Marcus sighed, fed up to the back teeth of having to explain it for what was now the fourth time. How his sister was marrying such a douche he'd never know. "It hasn't been changed since the 1950's and it still operates on the same schedule."
"I know, I know, shops don't open on a sunday, they shut for lunch and the pub won't open until after six when the men get out of work," Jamie parroted, his tone one of extreme pisstaking mockery. Marcus resisted the urge to punch him. He'd thought his sister had better taste than this, clearly he'd been wrong.
"I don't know how you can stand living here," Jamie continued.
"Well it's a good job that you aren't going to have to, isn't it?" Marcus shot back. Sure, the village was a bit different to what most people were used to, but that didn't mean it was wrong and should be attacked like this. Having grown up there Marcus knew that it could indeed be very boring for someone not used to it, but there was no need to be so nasty about it.
Jamie snorted, his attention focused on the drone that he was flying. So what if he'd spent some of their honeymoon budget on it, he liked it and that was all that mattered. Carrie's parents could cough up the missing funds. The drone was worth all the shit he might get from his fiancee. Only just released, it was top of the range, a meter in length, sixteen kilograms in weight and with a top speed of sixty miles per hour, it was a beautiful piece of machinery that he was currently testing to its limits. "Wouldn't live in this shit hole if you paid me."
"Well some people do and I'll thank you not to be so bloody nasty abo-"
"What's that?" Carl asked, pointing up at the sky behind them, out over the grassy dunes and the roofs of the houses, interrupting Marcus, who was fast losing patience with his job of babysitting the idiots.
Grateful for the distraction and the excuse to get off the subject of how rubbish their village apparently was, Marcus squinted into the distance where a small, dark speck was just visible. A low, droning noise could just be heard, although both it and the speck were clearly coming closer, the sound getting louder, the speck bigger.
"Looks like it's one of the 'birds from the spaceport."
Jamie grunted, screwing up his eyes in an effort to see better as the 'bird' came into view. It certainly looked like it was coming closer
The aircraft, which Marcus could now see was indeed a military craft, a helicopter if he wasn't mistaken, continued flying closer.
"Definitely going to the space port," Marcus muttered to himself before turning back to his future brother-in-law. "You had better bring that thing in," he nodded to the drone controls in his hand. "It'll be flying right overhead and you don't want to get in the way."
"No way," Jamie snorted. "Ain't no little 'chopper gonna make me bring this baby in."
"Don't be an idiot," Marcus sighed. "That is a military aircraft, heading to the spaceport about ten miles out that way," he gestured out to sea. "If you get in their way you'll be in big trouble."
"I'd like to see them try," Jamie argued, directing the drone in a wide loop the loop.
"Don't be so stupid!" Marcus called over the ever increasing noise of the helicopter's engines. "Bring it in, now."
"Bet you can't keep up with it," Carl challenged Jamie, a sly grin on his face.
"Yeah, you don't think so? Just you watch, mate." Jamie shot back.
"Don't even think about it," Marcus warned but his words fell on deaf ears. Carl moved up to stand beside Jamie, egging him on as the helicopter thundered overhead. The drone shot off in front of it, darting here and there.
"Stop it!"
Jamie ignored him.
"Will you stop, you arsehole!" Marcus made a grab for the controls, intent on shutting down the drone, hell he'd crash it if he had to, maybe that would teach Jamie a lesson. "Can't you see that it's carrying something?"
"Get the fuck off!" Jamie yanked the controls out of the way but Marcus kept hold. The result was a tug of war that neither won as they both lost their grip on the box at the same time. It smashed to the ground before either of them could catch it.
Jamie scrabbled for it but he was too late. The drone, dipping this way and that, veered into the path of the oncoming helicopter. Marcus dove after it, his fingers just skimming the controls but tripped over Jamie's outstretched leg. The drone, now under its own control and still moving at the high speed Jamie had been pushing it at, shot forward, plowing straight into the rear rotating blades of the military craft.
The helicopter shuddered with the force of the sudden impact, lurching sideways, its remaining propellers still whirling as it fought to stay airborne. The force of the still spinning blades, no longer countered by the rear blades, sent the helicopter into a fast spin, the body of the craft rotating at almost the same speed as the blades. The long, cylindrical object it had been carrying, hanging low from its belly, suspended on cables, began to swing like a pendulum, further destabilizing the helicopter.
The pilot tried to fight it, tried to correct it but he was fighting a losing battle. As Marcus, Jamie and Carl watched from the ground the cables holding the torpedo shaped object released, their burden dropping like a stone, hitting the sea below with an almighty splash. It bobbed like a cork for a few seconds before tipping up on its end and slipping below the surface of the water.
With the extra weight of its cargo no longer contributing to its lack of balance the pilot maneuvered the craft into a series of dips, diving nose first.
"It's gonna crash!" Marcus gasped, breaking free of his stunned silence.
The helicopter nosedived one last time and, to their amazement, seemed to level out, recovering from the spin. Without a backwards glance it shot off in the direction of the spaceport.
"Let's get out of here," Jamie yelled, self-preservation kicking in as he dragged himself to his feet and snatched up the drone controls, taking the evidence of their misdeed with him.
-x-
"We may have a situation," John announced to the current residents of the lounge, his holographic projection shooting out of the eyes of his portrait on the wall to hover above the coffee table.
"A maybe situation?" Scott teased, setting his tablet aside to pay attention. "Must be Wednesday."
"I just intercepted a GDF call to the World Navy," John continued as if his brother hadn't spoken, although his eye roll gave away the fact that he was less than impressed.
"World Navy? Is this one for me then?" Gordon asked eagerly. " I haven't gotten my feet wet in weeks."
"Not just yet," John answered. "It seems that a helicopter carrying the replacement nose cone of the GDF's laser cannon has had some trouble. From what I heard something hit the tail end, knocking out the blades. The pilot had no choice but to cut the engine, which also cut the power to the magnetic grabs that were holding the cannon. It should be fine as it's rated for space flight so a little dip into the ocean won't harm it. Once the engines were cut the pilot managed to correct the helicopter's spin and glide it the rest of the way to the spaceport on auto rotation."
"At least no one was hurt," Scott pointed out.
"Not that I heard, the pilot is a little shaken but he seems to be alright. The GDF has called in the Navy to retrieve the cannon, I doubt we'll be needed but we should be on standby just in case."
"Urghh, whenever you say that it means we won't be needed, you're just getting my hopes up," Gordon grumbled, crossing his arms as he slumped back against the couch cushions.
"And here I was thinking that not getting called out was a good thing," John deadpanned. "You should be glad that we're not needed."
"Nope," Gordon popped the p loudly, just to be annoying. "If I'm not suiting up can you get out of the way? I'm trying to watch a movie and your fat head is right in the middle."
"Charming," John sniffed, blinking out of existence without another word.
"One of these days you're going to annoy him so much that he'll leak your entire search history to the press," Scott warned him.
"Eh, it's a risk I'm willing to take," Gordon shrugged, swinging his feet back up onto the coffee table. "Might as well settle in, because I'm telling you we aren't going anywhere for the foreseeable future."
-x-
"Rescue Boat One to base."
"Reading you Rescue One."
"In position, preparing to lower submersible."
"Roger, Rescue One, standing by to receive transmission."
Rescue Boat One's pilot, Captain Jennison, a six year veteran, maneuvered his craft into position, honing in on the signal coming from the abandoned laser cannon that was currently languishing on the sea bed less than 400 meters from the rocky shore.
The submersible, a remote controlled mini sub that he would use to attach cables to the cannon, cables which would then be used to winch the cannon up towards the surface. Once the cannon was retrieved he would be taking it the rest of the way to the spaceport where it could be loaded into its cargo rocket and set on to its destination at the GDF's trash collection center.
Jennison sighed to himself, once again thoroughly bored with the 'mission' he had been given. Mission was too grand a word for it, grunt work would be better. This was the simplest of tasks, something that someone far less experienced than himself could have done with their eyes closed. He might as well quit and sign up as a delivery boy, because that was the job he was apparently already doing.
Not having much choice in the matter he stabbed the button that would open the outside hatch and took the controls in hand, the mechanical hands acting as an extension of his own that mimicked his movements with the submersibles.
"Sub A released," Jennison reported as the little drone puttered out of its cubby hole in the base of the boat, the needed cables attached to its underbelly. He guided the sub down through the murky water, scanning back and forth with the inbuilt camera in an attempt to locate the cannon.
"Received, keep us updated."
The sub zoomed its way down at a quick pace and it wasn't long before Jennison saw subs lights reflected back at him off the shiny hull of the cannon.
Huh, it didn't look that impressive to him, hardly worth all the fuss they were making for it. He'd never heard of a full rescue boat, usually reserved for human rescues only, to be drafted for a simple thing like this.
"Laser 27 has been located," he continued to report, trying to keep the boredom and frustration out of his voice. He wasted no time in examining the cannon to determine the safest places to attach the cables that had been playing out behind the sub as it had made its descent. The sooner he got this done the sooner he could be back at base and joining in with the poker game the boys had organised that night. He could practically taste the frosty bottle that would be waiting for him.
But to get there he had to focus, even the most basic of jobs deserved his full attention. Jennison squinted his eyes, focusing on the reedout from the screen in front of him as he concentrated on controlling the small metal arms that had extended from the sub as he tried to attach the cables to the cannon.
A blinding flash of light threw him backwards, the shifting of the boat under his feet making him lose all balance. He groped for the controls, temporarily sightless from the brightness that had engulfed him. He felt the boat move, felt it list, heard the rushing of water and just had enough time and forethought to fumble for his emergency helmet, dragging it on and sealing it into place. Dropping back down into his seat he snapped the safety bars in place and hung on for dear life as the control room filled with water and what remained of his boat was dragged under.
-x-
"Our maybe just turned into a full blown situation," John reported, his holographic image once again cutting through the movie that had been playing. "It looks like you got your wish, Gordo, you're up."
"You'd better go get Virg, Squid," Scott instructed. "You're gonna need a ride."
"And Brains," John added.
"Brains?"
John nodded. "And tell him to pack his sea sickness pills."
"On it!" Gordon didn't need asking twice, bouncing upright from his sprawled position, he was out the door in less than a minute, thumping his way down the stairs to the kitchen level and the lift that would take him down to the hangars.
"What have you got for us?" Scott asked, turning back to John to give him his full attention.
"The World Navy hit a snag in their recovery."
"You mean the boat couldn't recover it?"
"I mean they can't even recover the recovery boat."
Scott's eyes grew wide. "Maybe we should wait for the others."
"Good call, you know I hate repeating myself."
"We're here," Virgil huffed, racing into the room with Gordon and finally Brains hot on his heels.
"Now the gang's all here…" Scott started, looking pointedly at John who had been busying himself with his screens off camera.
"The GDF were transporting a replacement nose cone containing the laser mechanism of one of their security cannons," John started, knowing that Scott and Gordon were the only ones to have heard that part before.
"You mean one of those things that almost fried Alan and Kayo a couple of years ago?" Virgil asked.
John nodded. "Something happened to the helicopter that was carrying it. They don't know what it was but it almost brought the helicopter down, taking out the tail end rotors. The pilot was forced to abandon the cannon over water just off the coast of Norfolk, England in order to save the helicopter."
"That i-is unfortunate," Brains commented. "But the c-cannon should be fine. It was built to withstand the non-atmosphere of space, the de-depths of the sea wouldn't affect it."
"Right, so where do we come in?" Virgil asked.
"The World Navy sent out a rescue boat to recover the nose cone but something went wrong, somehow the laser activated. Cut clean through the rescue boat."
"Ah."
"Yeah, that'll do it," Scott groaned.
"B-but that's impossible," Brains said, butting in again. "I know that technology, I know the operating system and that is impossible, the laser needs an activation code and to be installed to the main body before it can f-fire."
"Well somehow it went wrong," Gordon pointed out rather unnecessarily.
"But it shouldn't," Brains insisted. "The main components are derived from Professor McKee's designs, they don't just b-break!"
"OK, OK, let's all just calm down," Scott ordered, taking charge. "I'm sure there's a way that we can deactivate the cannon, John can hack into it an-"
"No, it's not that sim-" John butted in at the same time as Brains.
"It ca-cannot be hacked," Brains said, cutting John off. John gave in gracefully and gestured for Brains to continue, letting him take the floor.
"There are safeguards built in place," Brains informed them. "It is a self contained unit, no programming signal goes in or out of it until it is connected to the main body of the cannon itself. It would have to be deactivated onsite from its control panel."
"I don't see how this is a job for us," Scott pointed out. "So the cannon is going off, the GDF just need to keep all boats and aircrafts out of the immediate vicinity until they can get a dive team down there to deactivate it with the code. Simple."
"Not simple," John said with a sigh. "I hadn't gotten to the fun part yet. The cannon fell into the sea off the coast of Norfolk, close to a small, historic clifftop village. The village itself has been a victim of coastal erosion for centuries, leaving the village in an already precarious position. But now it has a rather large laser pointed right at it, a laser that is capable of destroying a spaceship. Obviously rock is going to be no match for it. If that laser isn't stopped it could mean the destruction of the entire village, population of 208. The laser has activated twice, with a 15 minute gap between shots, we just don't know if that will be a regular thing yet or if its timing will be sporadic."
"Again, why can't the GDF or the World Navy send someone?"
"No time, they can't get a team of divers or a sub there for at least six hours. I sent down a probe and have been monitoring the situation. Each time the laser has fired it's distrubed the sea bed and the motion of the water has pushed it closer to shore, only a little, but enough that each time it's doing more damage to the cliff face."
"I-if my memory is correct," Brains said slowly, "anything that is destined for permanent residence in space is required by the World Space Authority to have a self-destruct as an overriding safety device."
"Great, so they could just activate the self-destruct before it does any more damage," Virgil said.
"If they do that it will take the trapped rescue boat captain with it."
Four sets of eyes turned as one in John's direction.
"What?" he asked, not liking the incredulous looks being thrown his way.
"You could have led with that!" Gordon yelled, snapping out of his shock and running for his launch shoot. "It's kind of important."
"I would have if you hadn't all piled in," John growled. "You should all know by now that I wouldn't waste our time for something that could be taken care of without our input, your constant questions just slowed things down. "
"Good point," Scott admitted, knowing that John was right. John always assessed everything carefully, he would pass on any jobs that could be taken care of by a local authority, he only called for a launch if they were truly needed. "Sorry."
Virgil had already activated his chute by the time Scott moved towards One's, Brains having already left.
"I'll brief you all further in the air," John said, his hologram flickering out of sight.
"Looks like we're all pissing him off today," Scott sighed as he grasped the stems of the wall lights that activated his chute, pulling them down firmly over his shoulders.
-x-
"I've checked and triple checked," Brains muttered to himself as he poured over the plans for the nose cone that John had sent through. "And it just doesn't make sense. There is no way that the laser has activated due to a design flaw, every part of it is technically perfect."
"Then you've got to think outside the box, Brains," Virgil told him, "because it's going to take us two hours twenty to get there and there's no telling the damage that could be done to the cliff in that time."
"So far it's activated every fifteen minutes," Gordon said, " that means that by the time we get there it will have fired a total of nine times. John said it missed the cliff the first time and only just grazed it the second, but if it keeps moving as it is, it won't be long before it starts doing some real damage."
"I'm sure Scott will tell us more when he gets there," Virgil said.
"Scott's not going there," John informed them, his hologram hovering over the control panels in front of Virgil. "A call just came in for a biplane in trouble. An old Tiger Moth, which was part of an airshow, is trapped under a bridge."
"It's what? How?"
"Apparently it was supposed to fly under the bridge but the pilot misjudged the distance and caught the port wing on one of the stabilizing struts. Now it's wedged and the pilot is stuck, I've diverted Scott to deal with it, you'll have to go on alone."
"Great," Virgil sighed.
"It can't be helped," Gordon pointed out, "besides, what could he do that we can't?"
"Get there quicker?"
"What, with four dangling under him from a grapple cable?" Gordon snorted. "He'd have to wait for us anyway, there's nothing he could do so it doesn't matter if he's there or not."
"True," Virgil had to admit.
"Don't stress," Gordon soothed, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet up on the console, something Virgil didn't look happy about. "It'll be a simple grab and go. We'll dive down, I'll pick up the Captain while Brains sorts out the laser, back up and we'll be back home in time for whatever disgusting dinner Grandma is going to try to make us eat this time."
Virgil made a face at the thought of trying to act like another blackened, over spiced monstrosity was a culinary masterpiece. "Why did Sel have to pick this week to be away?"
"And why didn't she leave food in the freezer?" Gordon added.
"Because the Hotel Chelsea, one of the most haunted hotels in the world, is currently undergoing renovations to turn it into condos and it can't cleanse itself," John answered. "As for the second point, may I remind you, once again, that it is not my wife's job to feed you all."
"Sure it is," Gordon argued cheekily, "she married into the family, that means she takes us all on."
"By that logic, may I put in a formal request to be present when you tell that rule to Penleope?" John grinned evilly. "I wouldn't want to miss her reaction when you tell her that her only job from now on is to provide nourishment for the entire island."
"You'll be waiting a long time," Gordon said. "She's far too busy with her actual job for anything other than work right now."
"Trouble in paradise?" Virgil asked gently.
"Nah, ya can't have trouble if you never see each other," Gordon shrugged, forcing a grin. "But I pity her new partner, lately she's been grumpier than Sel when we eat her chocolate raisins."
"Wanna talk abo-"
"I-I give up! I ca-can't think with all this talking!" Brains yelled from the back of the cockpit, his eyes still frantically scanning the schematics displayed in front of him. "The plans are flawless, there has to be another reason for the laser firing. I shall need to examine it carefully to deduce why and prevent it happening again."
"I'm sure you can do that, Brains," Virgil said, trying to calm the irate engineer. "If anyone can figure it out it'll be you."
"Unfortunately there won't be time for that," John butted in. "I just received word from the Space Authority, they have ordered the immediate destruction of the cannon."
"But, there's a man down there!" Gordon yelped, his feet dropping as he sat up straighter in his seat. "They can't just destroy it and leave him to die."
"They can and they will if we don't get him out in time, the way they see it it's one life against many and a historic village that is protected under a National Trust conservation order."
"So Captain Jennison has to die to save some buildings?" Gordon couldn't believe what he was hearing, surely nothing was comparable to the life of a person?
"Let's hope not," John sighed, feeling a headache brewing at the back of his eyes. "They are waiting for the final go ahead from General Marshall, and thankfully for us he's refusing to be disturbed until he's finished his golf game, but Colonel Decker is standing by to issue the order as soon as Marshall is tracked down. I'm going to speak to them, try to reason with them and get them to hold off for a bit but I'm not holding out much hope."
"Just do your best," Virgil said. "I'm pushing this baby to her limits, but we might still be too late."
"The Navy has started evacuating the village, but some residents are being stubborn," John continued. "It could go one of two ways, it might buy us some time, or it'll push them to detonate quicker. Let's just hope the stars align on our side for once."
Gordon and Virgil nodded, the alternative just didn't bear thinking about, to knowingly detonate what amounted to a bomb right on top of a person, it was too awful to contemplate. Brains ignored them to continue whatever the hell it was that he was doing.
-x-
"This day is going from bad to worse," Gordon bitched as John finished delivering his message. Unfortunately it had not been good news.
He had spoken to a Lieutenant Dawson and told him what was happening. Dawnson, apparently a big fan of International Rescue, had been sympathetic to their situation and, while he had not been able to give them any help directly, he had managed to convince his immediate higher-up at the Space Authority to hold out on giving the go-ahead to destroy the cannon until the village had been completely evacuated, buying them a little more time.
John had tried to negotiate further, requesting that they be allowed to take the cannon with them so that Brains could examine it and identify the cause of the spontaneous firing, but even though the GDF would have let them, the SA was completely different. They didn't recognise International Rescue as a proper organisation. They didn't like the way that International Rescue wasn't regulated by anyone in government, which apparently equated to them not being trustworthy. The SA would rather destroy the cannon than allow what they deemed as civilians to take it.
The GDF wasn't happy about their cannon being destroyed but the Space Authority wouldn't authorise its transportation and placement into space when it was clear that it had developed a fault that, while dangerous on earth, could be deadly in space. The Navy refused to have such a dangerous object in their water but couldn't do anything to retrieve it, all they could do was keep the area clear for the time being, which wasn't a long term solution.The stretch of coast it had crashed on was a busy one, with fishing boats, holiday makers and residents using the water daily, not to mention the staff being ferried back and forth to the spaceport every day for work. The GDF's priority, as always, was to the ordinary people around the world that it protected, in this case the villagers, the workers at the spaceport and the other water users, just as it was for the Navy.
As much as they all hated to admit it, they didn't know if Captain Jennison was even alive down there, all contact having been cut off when the boat had sunk so he had been taken out of the equation as a factor in the decision. The way they saw it, there was no other viable option, the cannon was going to be destroyed, it was just a question of when.
-x-
"I've got bad news" John said, interrupting the peace Brains had insisted on as they neared their destination.
"Great, because that's what we always like to hear just before we go into an active danger zone," Gordon deadpanned.
"What's wrong, John?" Virgil asked, ignoring Gordon's comment.
"General Marshall has been located."
"Uh oh."
"Uh oh is right, he signed the handling of the situation over to Colonel Decker, who has authorized the destruction of the cannon."
"But they can't authorise it yet, Captain Jennison is still down there," Virgil pointed out. "That's why we're here."
"The Navy has been trying to raise him on the radio but he stopped answering when the boat sank. They have now declared him as unresponsive and therefore collateral damage."
"So they're just going to blow it up whether he's dead or not?" Gordon asked, shock and a little horror evident in his tone.
"In a word, yes," John sighed, hating that he was the one that had to deliver the news. "They can't reach him and so, as they cannot confirm if he is alive or dead down there, they aren't prepared to waste any more time. They can't stop us going as we aren't under their jurisdiction, but I've been told that they aren't accepting any responsibility for us or our equipment if we chose to launch a rescue attempt for, and I quote 'a man that's already as good as dead'. They have already set the self-destruct, and they refuse to deactivate it."
"So they are basically condemning a man to death and they don't care?" Virgil confirmed.
John nodded sadly.
"How long do we have?" Gordon asked, his face grim.
"14 minutes from the next activation."
"That's not a lot of time," Virgil pointed out.
"We've done other rescues in less," Gordon argued, glaring at his brother. "Surely you're not suggesting that we don't even try?"
"Of course not! There's a man down there and we're his only chance."
"Good," Gordon snapped, unclipping his seat belt. "I'm going to get ready, come on, Brains."
Gordon knew that he shouldn't have snapped at his brother, it wasn't his fault that the Space Authority and the Navy didn't give a shit about their own people, they were just as disposable as their machinery to them. It was just the thought of it, the thought that someone could be tossed aside so easily, it went against the entire ethos of International Rescue. For ten years they had worked on the principle that every life was worth saving, they didn't pick and choose who got the honour of rescue, who lived or died, everyone, everywhere, deserved to know that if they were in danger, someone was out there, listening, ready to do their damndest to get to them in time.
Gordon, along with Brains who insisted on going even though there was little for him to do now, was settled in the little sub, ready and waiting by the time they reached the danger zone, Virgil bringing the mighty Thunderbird craft down out of the sky as lightly as a floating balloon.
"Readying for module deployment," Virgil said, his voice carrying through he comms to the two men currently seated in Thunderbird Four.
"Cannon firing in thirty seconds," John warned them.
Virgil, making sure that he was out of possible zap range, watched from above as right on schedule a white hot blast of light shot out of the sea, striking the cliff behind them. An explosion of rocks followed the impact, tumbling down the side of the cliff into the water below, which was still bubbling and steaming from the heat of the laser.
"Damn that was a big blast," he muttered.
"Yep," John agreed. "The damage it's already done to the cliff has sped up the natural erosion by at least ten years."
"No wonder they want it gone."
John hummed an affirmative, his attention elsewhere for a moment as he checked in with Scott, who was on his way back to the island.
"Do you want Scott to divert to you there?"
"Don't need him," Virgil replied. "He'd do more good on standby in case another call comes in."
"FAB."
They waited impatiently, watching the sea below them. The moment it calmed Virgil released the module, and Four slid smoothly into the water.
"You've only got thirteen minutes before the next activation," John warned them. "Make every second count, rescue first, investigate only if you have time."
"But we need to find out why this h-happened," Brains argued. "If it is indeed as I suspect, we have to know."
"I can handle the rescue," Gordon assured them. "I'll go in and get Captain Jennison while Brains checks on the giant laser pointer."
John didn't look happy but out of everyone he understood the need to trust in his brothers' knowledge of their specialist areas. Gordon was their water rescue expert and, realistically, he was usually the one that most often dealt with solo rescues. If he was confident enough that he could extract their rescuee without any help from Brains then that was good enough for him.
"Alright," John nodded. "Do what you have to do, but I want you both back in the sub by the two minute warning, no arguments." This last was directed at Brains who, for all his careful, nervous ways, had a habit of allowing himself to get so caught up in his pursuit for an answer that he would listen to no one.
"Of course," Brains assured him, looking insulted that John would even suggest that he wasn't fully on top of things . Gordon nodded too, just for formality's sake.
As they had been talking, Gordon had been concentrating on locating the wreck of the rescue boat. It was easy enough, it had come to rest not too far from the cannon itself, having sunk almost directly above it.
Brains had changed into his diving gear on the journey from the island and Gordon was already wearing his uniform so both of them were ready to go the moment they came in range of the cannon. The water was still uncomfortably warm from the laser's heat but their suits would offer more than enough protection to make it bearable, although they would be no match for the laser itself or the boiling water it would create if it went off again. They just had to trust that it would continue on its designated pattern and not change before the self destruct timer ran out.
"Eleven minutes," John informed them, coming through over the comms in their helmets.
"T-thank you," Brains said. "I'm go-going to take a look at that control panel."
"And I'm going to get the Captain," Gordon said. "Wait until we're as close as we can be and go on my signal."
"FAB," Brains intoned, already eagerly waiting at the airlock, desperate to get a look at the workings of the timer to confirm whatever theory he had come up with. Gordon shook his head, knowing that arguing with him would have been pointless, when Brains was stuck on something he was more one track minded than Scott with a food craving. He was one of the most stubborn people Gordon had ever met and he was a Tracy with four brothers. It was better to just step aside and let Brains get on with it or get bulldozed right over in his quest for knowledge and the truth.
Gordon looked down through Four's glass bottom to the wreck below. The rescue boat had been sliced clean in half, the power and precision of the laser not hampered at all by the water that surrounded it. Gordon had already deduced that the most likely place for the Captain to be was the cabin, he wouldn't have had any warning that the laser was going to fire, if he had he wouldn't have been so close. John had said that he was working right up until the moment the laser struck the boat and had reported to his Navy commander that he was going under. It had all happened so fast that, logically, he couldn't be anywhere else.
Gordon maneuvered Four as close as he could to the boat without putting the little sub in any danger should the boat or the cannon suddenly shift. He couldn't see anything of the inside of the boat, the emergency lights had long since gone out, if they had even lit in the first place. They would have been designed for a power failure, not a complete boat split and, by the looks of the boat it wouldn't have had its own backup power source for different sections.
He quickly scanned the area, on the lookout for anything dangerous that could attack or hurt him or Brains. Finding nothing of significance, this being the English coast and not the open water or anywhere more tropical, he opened the airlock.
"All clear, Brains, you can go."
Brains was gone a second later without a backwards glance, swimming determinedly along the length of the cannon to reach the control panel.
"Well someone is an eager beaver," Gordon muttered as he repositioned Four so that they would get the full benefit when he switched on her bright flood lights. The lights did their job well, showing him exactly what it was they were working with.
"John, I'm going out."
"FAB, keep me in the loop."
"Will do," Gordon's chair flipped backwards out of the cockpit and into the main body of the sub. Taking hold of one of the fold up emergency stretchers that fitted inside Four's dry tubes, Gordon followed Brains out into the sea.
Once out of the sub he grabbed the handles attached to Four's belly, pulling down on them so he could release the hatch for the compartment in which the Turbo-Vortex propulsion device, or as he called it his Aqua Scooter, was stored. The scooter floated free as water flooded the compartment. Guiding his arms into place so the scooter sat in its proper position on his back he took off for the boat. The stretcher, attached by a safety cord, floated along behind him.
Immediately he could see that the boat cabin had flooded. Full of water it therefore contained no air pressure that he needed to worry about. Boats were different to the subs that he was used to rescuing people from, they didn't have an airlock he had to negotiate or any kind of entrance he could manipulate, which meant the quickest way he could get in was to make his own door.
"Ten minutes," John's voice intoned, cutting through the silence and making Gordon jump.
"On it!"
Gordon peered through the cabin window, the inside now lit up as well as it could be by Four's lights. His eyes flicked here and there, trying to locate the Captain. Usually when someone saw his lights coming they would make their way to the windows, making themselves as visible as possible. But this time he could see nothing.
"John, can you scan the interior? I'm missing my Captain."
"Scanning now."
On a rescue a laser cutter was often your best friend, being very effective in cutting through almost any substance, as the boat had already found out. The specially designed laser that was attached to the mechanical arm of his scooter could slice through metal like butter.
"I'm detecting one lifesign to the right of the cabin, he appears to be unconscious but not in any immediate danger, although he's been underwater for two hours with equipment not designed for that long an exposure. His body temperature is lower than it should be so the risk of hyperthermia is increasing by the minute. Your priority is to get him out and warmed up as soon as possible."
"Got it," Gordon assured his brother, concentrating on guiding the beam of the laser along the edge of the metal surrounding the port side window. "How's it going, Brains?"
"S-slowly," the engineer replied, his voice vague, showing that he was barely paying attention to the chatter he was hearing over the comms.
"Brains, status report," John requested, trying to focus the other man's attention with a more formal version of a question.
"I...I'm afraid I cannot give you a satisfactory answer at this pre-precise m-moment."
"That sounds bad, Brains," Gordon huffed as he used the mechanical arms of the scooter to smash the glass away to gain access to the control room.
Shedding his scooter he eased himself and the stretcher through the window and into the cockpit. The inside was a mess, likely caused by the water flooding in, the journey down through the water and the rather rough landing the boat had had when it landed. Control panels had ripped away from their moorings, emergency fittings and household items flung from their places, loose objects floating peacefully in the water that filled the room.
"Seven minute warning," John reminded them gently. "Gordon, Captain Jennison is just to the right of your location."
"I can't see him," Gordon replied, looking this way and that with growing desperation, all too aware of the time ticking away far too fast for his liking. He needed to find him, he needed to get him out and safe before they were all blown to smithereens. He wasn't prepared to leave him behind, not like his own team had, casting him aside like he was nothing, just another name on a record beside the words "died in service".
"Just take a moment," John suggested, his familiar calm tone pulling Gordon's attention away from his thoughts and back to the present.
Gordon did as he was told, taking a deep breath of the recycled air pumped out by his rebreather. That felt better, that helped. He did it again and then closed his eyes, counting to five nice and slowly.
"Now look again,"John instructed gently but firmly.
Gordon opened his eyes and looked again, looked beyond the obvious, looked into the hidden depths there always was within the sea. The sea was like a part of him, he knew it almost as well as he knew himself, he knew its ways, he knew how it could trick your eyes and your senses, but he was wise to it. He knew how to work with it, not against it. He looked deeper and he saw through its illusions.
"There!" Bubbles, a tiny, thin stream of bubbles floating up from underneath an upturned panel.
"Well done, now hurry, you've got five and a half minutes. You can't be in the vicinity when that cannon fires, you broke the window so there's no protection in there now."
"I know, I know," Gordon muttered as he moved closer.
It took a lot of effort and a little swearing to move the control panel, something that would have been so much easier with his aqua scooter, but finally Gordon could see what he was working with. The captain was still unconscious, something that was probably a blessing given the state of his leg and the way he was wheezing.
A quick medi-scan revealed just what Gordon had feared, four cracked ribs, one collapsed lung and a fracture to the left tibia as well as the right wrist.
"How's he looking?" John asked.
"Not great, he was obviously still strapped into his seat when the boat went down," Gordon told him, looking at the twisted mass of metal that was wrapped around the middle of his body. The safety bars now the things crushing his chest. "How much time do we have?"
"Four minutes."
"I'll get him out in two," Gordon vowed. " You just keep an eye on Brains."
"Will do," John assured him. "I've been communicating with him as best I can but he's not answered in the last four minutes, although his signal is strong and he's still moving. You know what he's like when he's concentrating."
"Don't I ever," Gordon replied, busily searching through his baldric pockets. "I'm going to give our friend here a little sedative gas to keep him calm and asleep while I get him out. The last thing I want is for him to wake up and start panicking."
"Good plan."
Gordon located the small canister and quickly clamped the valve to the air tank attached to the side of the captain's helmet. That done he got to work, pulling out a smaller version of Alan's laser cutter and slicing cleanly through the metal bars.
The captain's limp body, now released from its shackles, floated free. Gordon quickly unfolded the stretcher and eased the man onto it, strapping him down as firmly as he could without risking any further aggravation to his injuries.
"Got him! Time check, bro?"
"Three and one quater minutes."
"Then, as Sel always says, I'd better get a wiggle on," Gordon quoted. Taking a firm hold of the stretcher's handles he pushed it ahead of him as he paddled towards the open window.
"Gordon, you only have two and a half minutes, you don't have time for flippant comments."
"Sure I do, don't worry about us, just make sure Brains is ready to go."
"FAB," John said, not wanting to argue.
Carefully, Gordon pushed the captain through the gap where the window had once been then slid out himself. Rising up under the aqua scooter, he slid his arms into place. Locking onto the stretcher with the scooters grabs he sped off, steering the aqua scooter back to its dock.
"Two minutes!" John yelled, trying to get their attention."Brains, you have to get back to Thunderbird Four!"
"I'm nearly d-done, John."
"Whatever it is you're doing, just leave it, there's nothing we can do now."
"Just...one...m-moment."
"Now, Brains!" Gordon ordered, shoving Jennison through the airlock into Four as gently as he could as the aqua scooter's hatch closed behind it.
With no time to do much more than secure the man's stretcher into a dry tube, Gordon threw himself through the opening and into his pilot's seat.
"John, where's Brains?"
"On his way, one minute!"
"What's going on down there?" Virgil demanded to know, cutting in for the first time. "You're supposed to have surfaced already."
"He's not going to make it," Gordon grunted, ignoring both his brothers as he smacked the sub's starter button. She responded instantly to his demands, darting forward. In her lights he saw the small form of Brains swimming frantically.
"Brains, prepare for pickup!" Gordon commanded. He had no choice, he had to go after him.
"Forty seconds!"
"Gordon!" Brains huffed, his voice strained, desperate.
The little yellow craft dove down, putting itself directly in his path and rolled sideways, its airlock opening at the touch of a button.
"Thirty seconds!"
Brains kicked with all his might, flying forward.
"Twenty! Brains move it!"
With one last desperate burst of speed Brains shot through the open hatch, his head bouncing off the far wall. The hatch slammed shut behind him with a solid, and very reassuring, sounding clunk.
"Ten seconds! Gordon, get out of there!"
Gordon didn't have time to answer. Yanking the controls he spun the little craft in a wide circle and hit the accelerator. They leapt forward like they had been shot from a gun. They needed to get as far away from the blast zone as possible. The sub was built to withstand all the pressures of the deep and theoretically she could hold her own against an explosion, but there was no telling how large it was going to be and now was not the time to test her limits.
"Five, four, three!"
Gordon headed out to open sea as fast as the engines could carry them, wanting to be as far away from the cliff face and the falling rocks as possible. Thunderbird Four was hardy but it was also the smallest of their fleet and the one that had been damaged the most often, those were not good odds and he didn't feel like pushing their luck any further.
"Two!"
Just a little further...
"One."
The sea behind them lit up like a Christmas tree as the laser's self-destruct activated in a blinding flash, the force of the explosion rolling through the water, the waves rolling at them like a truck, sending the small sub tumbling through the water in a series of barrel rolls. The water immediately began to bubble, the motion rocking the small sub as Gordon fought to regain some kind of control and keep moving further away from the blast radius.
"Everyone OK?" John asked as the light from the explosion faded as quickly as it had started, plunging the sea back into darkness. The rocking of the ocean calmed, allowing Gordon to wrestle Four back onto an even keel.
"Yeah, yeah I think so," Gordon answered, huffing out the breath he had been holding. He turned to look over his shoulder. "Brains, you good?"
"Y-yes."
"John, I'm slaving Four to your control, I need to take care of Captain Jennison."
"FAB." The controls beeped as John took over, piloting the sub out of the way of the cannon's floating debris and up towards the surface.
Brains accepted the hand that Gordon held out and got shakily to his feet.
"That was a close call," Gordon said, giving the other man a look that let him know on no uncertain terms just how unimpressed he was. "I hope whatever it was you were doing was worth it."
"I- I do believe that it was," Brains said, his voice still shaking as he tried to catch his breath from the exertions of his desperate swim.
Gordon searched the other man's face but his expression was unreadable. He knew Brains, he knew that nothing could force the man to disclose anything until he was ready to do so. He'd had a shock, as had they all, and no matter how much they were used to things getting slightly hairy in the field, it didn't make it any easier. Especially not for Brains, he was usually a stay at home type of guy, he didn't do active rescues if he could find a way to avoid them. He wouldn't be used to the adrenaline that was currently pumping through his body, he wouldn't be used to all the pictures his mind would be conjuring up showing all the ways he could have died right that moment if he had been just a second longer or if Gordon hadn't been there. None of that was easy to deal with and Gordon knew that the best way to not fall into the trap of what if's was to stay busy.
"Help me with Jennison," Gordon instructed, more for something to do than any real need, the dry tube would have protected the man from the explosion's shocks a damn sight better than they had been protected rolling around the sub like peas in a bowl.
Together they checked the man's straps and his breathing, taking his helmet off to give him some fresher air and flush out the sedative gas that would still be in his air system. Four didn't have anywhere near the amount of medical supplies that Two had, so Gordon made the decision to wait until they had been picked up to do anything to make the man more comfortable other than turning on the dry tubes heating, the risk of doing more damage in that kind of situation was always a possibility.
"Breaching surface," John told them and almost immediately the small cabin lit up as the late evening sunlight streamed in through the windows.
"Module deployed for pick up," Virgil informed them, his deep voice floating through the comms. Gordon didn't realise until the moment his big brother's comforting voice sounded out that his hands were shaking a little, the adrenaline of their narrow escape now beginning to wear off. For one brief moment back there in the deep he had honestly thought that either one or more of them were going to lose their lives. He'd had a brief flash of a thought, so brief that it didn't even fully form, but it had registered all the same, the thought that his brothers would be waiting for them to come up, to come home, and they would be waiting in vain. Normally the knowledge that one or more of his brothers was always around, always nearby on any rescue, there to support or help if needed, comforted him. I made him feel safer, protected even when he was alone in his little sub at the bottom of the sea. This time all he'd been able to think about was Virgil waiting above to take them home and having to leave without them. It didn't bear thinking about too closely and he shoved it firmly aside, locking it in a box in his mind where he kept the bad things he didn't want to give any air time to. He was safe, they were all safe, safe and whole and on their way home.
"I've got this," Gordon told John, dropping back down into his seat and taking back control of his craft for the last moments of backing it slowly up the ramp and back into the module for Two to pick up.
As soon as Four was locked into place Thunderbird Two's grapples shot out. They latched onto the module and hoisted it up into the air where, with the ease of much practice, Virgil got it situated perfectly under the hulking belly of his craft. The module slid back into place, making Two complete once again.
"Slaving to your control Thunderbird Five," Virgil informed John. "I need to help Gordon with the captain and get him situated in the medical bay.
"FAB." John took the flight controls under his care from his spot in Five, allowing Virgil to leave his seat and make his way down to the module where Gordon was waiting for him.
"Where's Brains?"
Gordon pointed wordlessly towards the back of the module where the stairs were. "He's already gone up."
"What was with him down there?"
"I have no idea, it's not like him to have a death wish, that's usually Scott's territory. Best guess is that he found something interesting and wouldn't leave it alone."
"Well I just hope that whatever it was was worth risking his life for," Virgil scowled. "Now let's get Captain Jennison ready for handover."
"Good call, the sooner we pass him on the sooner we can get home, and I for one can't wait."
-x-
"Hey, how'd the rescue go?" Selene asked as she dropped down beside Gordon on the couch, offering him her open bag of chocolate raisins when she saw his eyes stray towards the packet with a hopeful puppy expression on his face.
"Could have gone much better, could have been much worse," he replied, diving his hand down into the packet and liberating a handful. "When did you get home? I thought you were gonna be there for another few days?"
"Scott grabbed me on his way back earlier. I came to a grinding halt with the new owners, they wanted me to move on every ghost in there and I refused. It was their property first and as long as they aren't doing any harm I'm not going to shove them out the door or wipe them away as if they never existed."
"You're standing up for ghost rights now?" Gordon asked, tossing a few of the tasty morsels into his mouth.
"Someone has to," she shrugged, peering into her bag to see just how few he had left her with.
"But why does it always have to be you?"
"Because she can't help herself and loves to argue," Scott taunted, deftly avoiding the cushion she threw at his head.
"How dare! This is not just a case of me being dramatic for the sake of it, this is about respect for the dead."
"But it's the property owners right to do with it as they want," Scott argued. "They paid for it, it's their building, so it's their choice."
"No it's not. The spirits that already live there didn't choose to be sold off as some kind of ghostly package deal, they didn't get a say, they didn't get asked or listened to. So I went in and I listened to them, because someone had to. Someone has to speak for them."
"So, you're a Ghost lawyer now, are you getting paid for this?"
"You're gonna need a ghost lawyer when I kill you."
"Stop winding her up," Virgil sighed, butting in in an attempt to defuse the situation before it blew up into a full fight. "Has anyone seen Brains? Dad wanted him to explain just what that little stunt was that he pulled earlier."
"He's down in his lab, said he had something to check out first, plus I think he's waiting for John to get down," Scott yawned. "And it's not just Dad that wants an explanation."
"John's coming home?" instantly on alert for potential husband loving, Selene was, as usual, far too easily distracted, allowing Scott to sneak his hand out and steal the packet of raisins she had just put down.
"Yeah, Brains insisted," he answered, his words muffled by a mouthful of chocolate.
Her eyes narrowed at him, but he grinned, uncaring as to her wrath. She was his best friend, she was married to his brother, what was she going to do? The answer was a big, fat, nothing. He tipped his head back and shook a few more into his open mouth.
"Just be grateful I'm in a good mood today," she growled in warning. "Although if you keep on I'll have to rethink it."
"You love me really."
"No, she loves me, she tolerates the rest of you," a familiar voice said from the doorway.
"Well, look what the space elevator dragged down," Gordon drawled, tossing the last of his raisins in his mouth and licking the melted chocolate off his palm.
"That's mean, John, really mean," Scott said, his hand over his heart like it hurt.
"It's accurate," Selene huffed, tipping her head back to receive a little kiss of greeting from her husband as he crossed the lounge. He moved around the table, meaning to sit beside her but was beaten to the spot by Alan who zipped past him like a speed racer, vaulted over the back of the couch and landed next to her.
"And the meaning of that was?" John asked.
"You aren't allowed to sit next to her," Alan answered cheekily, wiggling to get comfy.
"He's what now?" Selene questioned in complete disbelief.
"Not allowed."
"Under whose orders?"
"Brains, he said he didn't want John distracted."
"I take offence to that," Selene sniffed.
"So do I, I never get distracted."
Gordon snorted out a disbelieving laugh.
"You're all easily distracted," Jeff told them, speaking up for the first time from his spot at his desk. "And distracting, why do you always pick here to start messing around?"
"Because we miss you?" Selene offered.
"Yeah, good try," Jeff chuckled, taking off his glasses and setting them aside. "Say, where is Brains anyway? I have a bone to pick with him, I'm far too old to want to start breaking in a new engineer if he's going to make nearly getting himself killed into a habit, so he has some explaining to do."
"That's exactly what I'd like to know," John said, dropping down beside Virgil since he was apparently banned from his own wife.
"Brains isn't up here yet?" Kayo asked, making a few of them jump as she appeared like always, as silent as a ninja.
"Y-yes, I am."
A chorus of hi's greeted him.
"How come he gets a nice hello and I get abused?" John asked.
"I was happy to see you," Selene pointed out. "I'm always ha-"
"Flirt la-later," Brains ordered, striding into the seating circle like a man on a mission. Which he apparently was. With a resounding clunk he dropped the box he was carrying on the table.
"What do you have there, Brains?" Jeff asked, putting aside his tablet to make his way over to join them.
"The firing mechanism of the laser cannon."
"Brains!"
"Brains that's-"
"Stolen, yes," he agreed, not paying the slightest bit of attention. Apparently Brains cared nothing about suddenly being the criminal of the family.
"That is property of the GDF, Brains," John said, wondering just why his day had decided to go so weird so quickly.
"Technically…" Brains hedged.
"So why did you take it?" Jeff asked, peering at Brains like he was sizing him up for a self cuddling coat and a nice room in a ward with twenty four hour security.
"Because they wouldn't miss it, or even know," Brains pointed out. "It would have been destroyed in the explosion anyway, besides, I had a h-hunch and I was right."
"What was your hunch, Brains?" Scott asked, leaning forwards to peer into the box.
"Well...I-I guess it was less of a hunch and more of a d-deduction," Brains admitted. "If the fault was not in the design then it had to be-"
"In the components themselves," John finished, catching on to his meaning.
Virgil moved closer as John pulled the box towards them, each taking a piece out to study it. They didn't seem impressed if their tuts, grunts of disapproval and general annoyance was anything to go by.
"Wow, that must be bad?" Scott whistled
"Brains is right, these look like they were put together by monkeys," Virgil huffed, tossing his component back in the box and fishing out another.
"Every single part is inferior, right down to the solder used to put them together," John mused, turning the part in his hand over to see the other side.
"So the cannon was put together with inferior parts?" Scott asked. "Surely someone would have noticed?"
"Maybe they just didn't bother looking properly," Selene shrugged. "Or didn't even know what they were looking at."
Everyone looked at her like she had just grown an extra head.
"What? Not everyone cares about their job you know," she crossed her arms firmly. "It's obviously a manufacturing fault and that comes down to factory workers. They aren't the designers, they aren't specialists, they just put the bits together. They work the machines, they don't look at what they're doing, it's mindless work. They don't need to understand what they are making or what it's even supposed to do, they just put the bits together as they were shown."
They continued to stare at her.
"I worked in a factory as a summer job when I was sixteen, don't judge me for it, we didn't all grow up with a billionaire dad. Some of us had to pay for our own shopping."
"We weren't judging you," Jeff assured her.
"Sure looks that way to me."
"We were marvelling as you once again displayed your unique ability to cut through the crap and see to the heart of the matter," Virgil grinned.
"You mean I simplified things."
"Often the best way to think," Gordon laughed, patting her knee.
"So we're saying that the factory was using inferior materials and the workers, untrained in engineering, knew nothing about what they were making and simply did as they were told?" Scott asked.
"That would be the most likely explanation. Most factories use automated machines but some places, like the ones here that specialise in electronics, still use workers because the job can be too fiddly for an automated system," Brains agreed.
"But what about the people that put together the cannon itself?" Alan asked. "If those parts are as bad as you say, wouldn't a literal rocket scientist have noticed?"
"Yes, they should have," Brains said. "That's why I had to investigate. It struck me as odd that the Space Authority was so determined to destroy the cannon rather than allow us to retrieve it."
"Are you saying that someone knew it could go wrong and was still going to send it to space?" Scott asked, his shock evident in his tone. In all the years that IR had been in operation they had seen a lot of rescues that were caused by human error and faulty equipment, but none of them had been done knowingly on the part of an actual government organisation.
"And then destroyed the evidence?" Kayo added.
"Now wait just a minute," Jeff ordered, holding up his hand for quiet. "We can't go around throwing accusations like that around. There could be a reasonable explanation for all of this. We'd need to do some real investigating and get all the facts before we even think about taking this further."
"Dad?"
"Yeah?" Jeff looked over at Virgil, who held out one of the pieces Brains had liberated from the cannon. Jeff gestured for it and Virgil tossed it over. Jeff caught it neatly from the air. "What am I looking at?"
"The back," John replied, his face grim.
Puzzled, Jeff turned it over, his eyes growing wide.
"What, what is it?" Alan asked.
"Kayo?" Jeff called, tossing the part to her.
A quick glance and she was on her feet and moving to one of the bucket seats that connected to Alan's launch chute and her own.
"I'm on it." A push of a concealed button later and she was gone, the chair replaced by an identical one.
"What's going on?" Scott demanded to know, his commander voice deployed at full force.
"The manufacturers," Jeff said grimly.
"What about them?"
"It's Tracy Industries."