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Scott eased back on the throttle of Thunderbird One, reducing the mighty machines speed to just below Mach One. Toronto was only a few more miles ahead, he could just see the city in the distance. He could also see the thick plumes of smoke that rose from multiple points in the city, showing where there were what had to be major fires burning. He glanced down at his communications screen and put in a call to John.
"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Five," he said.
"Thunderbird Five here, go ahead Scott," John replied, as his image flashed into existence on the communications display panel.
"I'm about ten minutes from the danger zone." He glanced out the windshields again and frowned. "I can see smoke from here. Any idea what happened? What caused the blasts you picked up?"
John paused before answering, as he knew that this was a very touchy subject for his older brother, and thus something that was not normally talked about in the Tracy family. "It had to be terrorists, Scott," John said quietly. "That's the only way everything could have happened simultaneously."
"Damn..." Scott said, gritting his teeth to keep a hold of his anger. He'd been in New York on a few days leave from the air force, when the World Trade Center had been attacked. Like millions of others, he'd watched in helpless horror as the twin towers burned and ultimately collapsed. Afterwards his squadron had been sent to Afghanistan and he'd spent the rest of his enlistment there fighting both Al-Qaida and Taliban forces. Both events had left him with a very deep and profound hatred for terrorists everywhere. "They'd better not try anything while we're there." He growled.
"Calm down, Scott. Losing your temper won't help matters," John said softly, but with a hint of steel in his voice. "I've sent you the co-ordinates of a place you can land. It's a park but I've already notified the local authorities to clear the area."
Scott took a deep breath to steady himself, and get his temper back under control; while it would be personally satisfying, it wouldn't do the victims any good if he blew his top. "Thanks John. Is there any room for Virgil to land?"
"Negative. Virgil will have to put down in a parking lot near another site. It's full of cars, but we'll have to settle that later."
Despite the situation, Scott had to smile. "Gordon ought to love that. You know how much he loves destroying things. Alan too for that matter." He glanced down at the console. "I'm approaching the co-ordinates you sent. I'll check in once I have Mobile Control up and running."
"F-A-B, Scott. Be careful."
"Always am bro." Scott signed off and surveyed the ground below. He quickly spied the park John had spoke of, and effortlessly landed the turboscram powered rocket jet. Almost before the engines had shut down, he was out of his seat, had his helmet on with visor down, heading for the door.
He activated the ramp, and hurried down as it was lowering. He looked around and spying a group of fire-fighters, quickly made his way in that direction.
One of the men looked up and smiled when he saw someone dressed in the familiar silver grey uniform of International Rescue. "Are we glad to see you guys," he said.
"Glad to be here," Scott replied, as he looked around. "The rest of my team will be here shortly. Want to fill me in?"
"Sure. The field command area's been set up. If you follow us, the lieutenant will bring you up to speed."
Scott nodded. "Okay give me a minute to collect my equipment from Thunderbird One, then you can take me there."
"Okay mate."
Scott turned and hurried back to Thunderbird One. For a moment he disappeared inside and retrieved the large case that contained Mobile Control, then he left his 'bird again. This time he used a small remote unit keyed to his DNA, to lockdown the Thunderbird, so no one could steal her, or probe her secrets while he was away.
"Okay lead the way then," Scott said as he rejoined the fire-fighters.
The one he had spoken to nodded. "Right over here," he replied, then led the way out of the park into the city.
Virgil arced the giant, green bulk of Thunderbird Two around the city's center. He quickly spied the parking lot John had told them about. Gordon grinned as the ship set down on top of the parked cars.
Virgil rolled his eyes. "You'll never grow up, will you?"
"Not if I can help it!" Gordon quipped back. "Come on Alan, let's move out." Together, the three young men descended the ramp out of Thunderbird two. Virgil quickly locked the 'bird, and they went in search of Scott.
It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach Mobile Control. Scott spied them and waved. "Glad you made it. Here's where we stand." He pulled up an overview of the city. "We have multiple attacks, one here at Union Station, another here at the Roger's center. And, still more at one of the transformer stations. Whoever these bastards are, they knew what they were doing." Scott's voice was cold, and his brother's exchanged a glance with each other.
Scott didn't notice and went on. "There's a Blue Jays game today, and the stadium was half full. And being rush hour…well, you get the picture."
"So, where do you want us?" Virgil asked.
Scott frowned in thought. "Alan, you and Gordon head to the train station. It's underground, so you'll probably need the Mole." They nodded as Scott turned to Virgil. "Virg, see what you can do over at the ball park. Emergency services are on the scene, but I'll bet they could use all the help they can get."
"FAB Scott." Virgil replied.
"You sticking around here?" Gordon asked.
Scott nodded. "Yes. I'll man Mobile Control and keep Dad apprised of what's going on."
The others quickly headed in their assigned directions, leaving Scott at the console. "Mobile Control to Base."
"Base here, go ahead Scott." His father answered.
"We're on scene. I have the others each going to an accident zone." He paused and glanced around, then lowered his voice. "It's a mess Dad. Reminds me of…." His voice trailed off.
"Easy son."
"I'm OK." Scott took a deep breath to steady himself. "I'll keep you posted, Base. Mobile Control out."
Over the next four hours, Scott maintained vigil at Mobile Control, keeping an eye on his brother's progress, as well as helping out the various emergency services.
He wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Thunderbird Five to Mobile Control."
Scott sighed. "Go ahead Thunderbird Five."
"Hate to do this to you, bro, but we have another situation." John's voice sounded apologetic.
"What is it?"
"I picked up a distress call from a group of people near the transformer station. Seems that the building they were in, partially collapsed from the explosion."
"Damn…" Scott said quietly.
John heard the frustration in Scott's voice and wished there was something more he could do. For perhaps the thousandth time, he cursed being stuck up on the space station. "Scott?"
"Yeah, John. I'm on it. Can you send me the co-ordinates?"
"FAB."
A few moments later, Scott was scanning the map John had transmitted. "That's not too far from here. I'll lock up Mobile Control and take care of it myself."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, be easier this way. I'll be in touch."
"Be careful, Scott."
"FAB. Mobile Control out." Scott signed off, and quickly shut down the command center's computers. He sent a message back to the island telling his plans, and headed off in the direction of the explosion.
He moved cautiously towards the building, carefully making his way through the debris. This part of the city wasn't far from a major power substation; he could clearly see the hole in the ground where the transformers had been, before the terrorists had blown the station sky high. All that was left of the station, was a massive of broken masonry and twisted metal, sending a plume of dark, acrid smoke lazily up into the sky. Given the force of the explosion, Scott wasn't at all surprised to find out that there were people injured and hurt in neighbouring buildings.
Still, the fact that no one had yet been in this area made Scott cautious, especially as he was alone without the support of his brothers. The reason for his caution was that looters were ransacking parts of the city, taking advantage of the fact that the complete lack of electrical power and the widespread damage hampered the response times of city authorities. Scott knew that most looters would have no qualms about attacking him, International Rescue or not.
Reaching the front of the building Scott went inside, wishing quietly that their uniforms had side arms, though Dad was reluctant to allow that. Scott could understand why, but at the moment he would have been happy to have the reassuring weight of a gun in his hand. Cautiously, he made his way through the building.
"Hello," he called out. "I'm from International Rescue. Is anyone here?"
"Please, help us," a voice called back from one of the rooms up ahead. "There are people hurt in here."
"Okay I'm coming," Scott replied, picking up his pace.
It took only a few moments for him to reach the room in question. Immediately he spotted three people slumped against the far wall. Scott's experienced eye told him that the bulk of Their injuries stemmed from either blunt force due to the concussion wave from the explosion, or slicing injuries from the shattering of the windows.
Scott immediately started forward, getting his emergency kit out to tend to their wounds. Before he could do so however, a sound caught his attention and he turned to the right. As he did so, something slammed into the back of his helmet, hard. The impact stunned Scott even as it sent him falling forward onto his face, shattering his visor and made stars explode before his eyes.
Gasping through the sudden pain in his head, Scott felt himself being turned over. Through blurry eyes, he could just make out someone standing over him.
"Goodnight punk," a voice snarled and something – presumably a foot – slammed into the side of his helmet. The impact sent him spiralling down towards the deep darkness of unconsciousness. Before he completely surrendered to the darkness, he felt something that felt like a spray, being blown in his face. It made his throat and lungs burn, adding more pain to what was already throbbing through his head.
Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.