Chapter Seven: Voices in the Dark

"Wait a minute."

"What?"

"What is it?"

"I thought I heard something …"

"We've got more important things to do with our time than entertain your delusions. Unless you want to die in here?"

"Of course not, I just – "

"What did you hear?"

"I thought I heard voices."

" … In your head …"

"Voices? Someone could be coming to rescue us!"

"I thought that was his job."

"It could be one of the other members of my team –"

"A rescue! We're going to be rescued!"

"Hold on, I don't know if –"

"We're saved! Thank God!"

"Now look what you've done!"

"Me? If you would just stop hacking at the wall for a moment then I'd be able to tell if I really did hear something!"

A fractured silence fell, hung in the air between them for a few moments and then was shattered once more.

"There's nothing there. I knew you were imagining it."

"I didn't imagine anything! I heard –"

"Maybe we should try shouting for help."

" – You heard nothing. Now can I get back to my digging?"

"Look, I really think we should – "

"Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear us? We're trapped in a mine! Hello?"

"Oh for God's sake Cain, no one's going to come!"

"If you'd both just be quiet for a moment –"

"Hello? Calling International Rescue! Mayday, mayday!"

"Mayday? Where are we, stuck aboard a diving plane?"

"Mayday!"

"If you'd put half as much effort into breaking down this wall as you do talking then we'd be free by now!"

"Both of you, shut UP!"

The angry words fell away, the pickaxes paused and the resulting silence was so absolute that it was deafening. The two miners stared at their companion: Cain in shock and Alwyn in rapidly growing anger. Gordon Tracy stared back at them, almost as surprised as they were that he had lost his temper. Of all his family, he was the slowest to anger and his endless supplies of good humour were legendary. It took a lot to make Gordon loose his composure, even in such high-risk, dangerous situations as the Thunderbirds were often placed in. After all, professionalism was something of an art form to the denizens of Tracy Island.

What might have happened next – Cain losing it completely, Alwyn strangling Gordon or the beginning of their own private World War III – was put on hold when the unmistakably sound of a new voice reached all three of their ears.

" – careful!"

It was just one word – and a rather garbled one at that – but Gordon would have recognised the voice anywhere. Wrenching his obsolete helmet off, he took as deep a breath as he could manage and yelled, "Virgil!"

"Virgil?" Gordon heard Alwyn muttered but he ignored the miner, intent on the miracle that was the sound of his older brother's voice.

There was such a long pause that Gordon began to wonder if him hearing Virgil's voice was more wishful thinking than actual fact. Then, gloriously, a second voice joined the first.

"Gordon?"

It was Alan – and Gordon knew he hadn't imagined it this time. Alan, his baby brother, was somewhere on the other side of the implacable rock wall and more importantly, he was alive.

"Gordon? Gordon is that you? Can you hear me?"

Gordon laughed aloud as Virgil and Alan's voices melted together into the most wonderful cacophony of noise that he had ever heard.

Behind him, Alwyn took a step forward, brandishing his pickaxe threateningly. "What the hell is going on?"

Gordon grinned at him, his good humour completely restored and the confused expression on the grumpy miner's face cheering him further. "It seems, my dear Alywn, that Cain's predication has come true. Meet the other members of International Rescue!"

When Alan Tracy heard Gordon's voice through the wall, his first thought was that he had gone completely insane. It must be a combination of the pain in his head and way too much exposure to the cloying darkness of the mine, Alan decided; he was starting to hallucinate.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to entertain his delusions for a moment or two. With Virgil ducking back inside the Firefly and Scott resting quietly on the ground beside the machine, there was little else to occupy Alan's time.

"Gordon?"

Unfortunately, Virgil heard him. His older brother stuck his head back out of the ruined machine and even in the gloom of the torchlight Alan could see the frown on his face. "Gordon?" Virgil echoed in confusion, at the same as Alan called again, "Gordon, is that you? Can you hear me?"

Alan's head throbbed in time to his shouted words and he suddenly felt very light-headed. He carefully braced himself against the blackened hull of the Firefly and attempted to moderate his breathing. Virgil looked at him in alarm but before he could ask any awkward questions, Gordon's voice came souring back through the wall.

"It seems, my dear Alywn, that Cain's predication has come true. Meet the other members of International Rescue!"

The words made little sense to Alan's fogged mind but knowing that Gordon was alive was enough. By virtue of their ages and statuses as the babies of the Tracy family, he and Gordon had always been close. Personality-wise they were as different as chalk and cheese but off all his brothers, Gordon understood most what it was like growing up underneath the shadow of numerous impressive siblings and a father who was revered as a national hero. Losing Gordon would have been almost like losing a part of himself and Alan couldn't put into words how relieved he was to find that somehow, Gordon had managed to survive the mine collapse … and apparently picked up some companions along the way.

"Gordon, whereabouts are you?" Virgil called, looking around the area of the mine that was visible beyond the Firefly.

"I'm behind a big chunk of rock," came the humorous reply. "Take your pick."

"Very funny. Keep talking, I'm trying to pinpoint your location."

That shouldn't be a problem for Gordon, Alan thought, taking another controlled breath as his vision righted itself and the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach began to fade. When he was feeling confident enough, he pushed away from the Firefly and moved to join Virgil, who was running his hands carefully over the sharp rock face.

"Who's with you?" Alan asked curiously.

"Cain and Alwyn – two of the miners we came down here to rescue."

Alan didn't need to ask where the other miners were; he could read it in what Gordon wasn't saying. A pang of guilt struck him. It was never easy to lose those that they had come to rescue and Alan couldn't help feeling partly responsible, even though he knew none of them could have predicted that the mine would collapse.

"Are you really International Rescue?"

Despite the severity of the situation, Alan grinned. "Either that or we're really unlucky sight-seers."

"Quiet," Virgil ordered tersely, pressing his face as close to the rock wall as he could manage. "Gordon, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear." Gordon's voice came back strongly. "Ready to start hacking down this wall on your command, Boss."

"Just give us a moment to step back … okay, go ahead."

The dim sounds of metal striking stone reached their ears and the wall that blocked Gordon and the miners' exits began to tremble ominously. Alan glanced hesitantly up at the metal supports that the local firemen had left behind and hoped they would be able to cope under the pressure. The last thing they needed was yet another part of the mine to collapse.

As Gordon and the miners worked to free themselves, Alan and Virgil returned to where Scott was lying.

As Alan bent down to lift Scott up again, Virgil put out a hand. "Wait."

Alan looked up at his brother. "What's up?"

Virgil glanced back over his shoulder at the blackened wreck of the Firefly and beyond that, the hulking monolith that was the Mole. "The machines," he explained. "We can't just leave them down here."

Alan stared at the Mole. Virgil was right. While International Rescue would always value the lives on its members above that of its machines, if there was any chance of saving the pod vehicles then they needed to do so. There was no telling when the next call would come in that would need to Mole's drill or the Firefly's fire-extinguishing capabilities.

Alan sat back on his heels. "Okay. Then you guys get out of here and I'll follow you out, towing the Firefly with the Mole."

Virgil shook his head before bending forward to check that the straps securing Scott to the backboard were fastened correctly. Alan frowned at him. "Why not?"

"Because you haven't been looking well and I'm worried –"

"Virg, I'm fine." Alan stressed the word, wondering at his brother's concern. Sure, his head was hurting and he felt a bit nauseous, but then he had whacked his head pretty hard on the ground, so it was only to be expected. "I can do this."

"Alan –"

"No, listen. Out of the two of us, who's got the most oxygen left? Me. And whose suit is in a better condition? Me." Virgil made as if to interrupt but Alan spoke over him. "And who can be of more help to Scott? You. Virg, it makes sense for me to be the one to take the Mole and you know it."

Before Virgil could reply, the offending wall that Gordon and his mining companions had been attacking gave way in a terrific rumble of rock. The whole mine shook; loose fragments of stone rained down on Virgil and Alan from the ceiling and they looked at one another in alarm. Alan wondered if his earlier thoughts about a second mine-collapse had been rather more prophetic than he had wanted.

In the next instant the rumblings subsided and Alan blew out an explosive sigh of relief. From the slender gap between the wickedly sharp front of the Mole and the shattered rear of the Firefly emerged a trio of dark figures, the front one of which quickly coalesced into the familiar dust-covered figure of Gordon Tracy.

A plethora of emotions swept through Alan as he and Virgil rose to greet the newcomers. "What happened?" he asked as Gordon gave him a one-armed hug and then pulled back quickly with a grimace.

"I was unlucky. Got my shoulder caught when the mine collapsed." Gordon grinned, his white teeth showing up brightly in the gloom of the mine. He coughed before continuing, the dying air of the mine closing his throat and making it difficult to talk. "Not like you two slackers. Honestly, not a scratch on you!"

Alan thought about the bump on his head but didn't say anything.

Virgil took over the thread of the conversation, introducing himself and Alan to Alwyn and Cain, and breaking the news about Scott as gently as he could to Gordon.

"He's going to be okay," Virgil assured his younger brother when Gordon's pale face turned even whiter under the layer of dirt, "but we've got to get him out of here now."

While Virgil explained the situation, Alan ducked back inside the Mole and retrieved the two smaller oxygen canisters that had had thrown in before entering the mine. Unlike the one they had given to Scott, these would only last for ten or so minutes – twenty at best. It meant they would have to move quickly.

"Here." He thrust them at Virgil and turned to head back in the direction of the Mole.

His brother reached out and caught his shoulder. "Alan, wait."

Alan looked back at Virgil with irritation. "I can do this, Virg."

Virgil looked resigned. "I know you can. Just –" He hesitated. "Just be careful, okay? We don't want any more surprises."

Although his brother's concern was unwarranted, Alan fixed an agreeable expression on his face. "FAB," he agreed. "See you on the other side."

They still haven't come back out … why haven't they come back out? What's happening? What if … what if something's gone wrong? Oh, why hasn't hecome back out?

The jumbled thoughts spun repetitively through Tin-Tin Kyrano's mind as she chewed restlessly on a fingernail that had already given all the nail it had to give. Though she was standing behind Mobile Control, her eyes were trained unerringly on the entrance of the mine and her heart was quite literally in her mouth.

It didn't matter that Alan had contacted her to report that he'd located both Virgil and Scott. While she was certainly relieved that Virgil was okay, and Scott's injuries weren't life threatening, the fact was they were still somewhere inside the mine.

The mine that could collapse at any moment.

Tin-Tin wasn't the only one that was feeling the pressure of the constant waiting. An unnatural hush had fallen over the area outside of the mine. The previously lively crowd of spectators and news anchors were tense and subdued, their eyes fixed on the mine. The few miners that had been rescued earlier in the day had already been dispatched to the local hospital and the remaining paramedics were grouped about the entrance of the mine, awaiting the injured members of the party still inside. Of everyone in the area, they and the firemen looked the least unsettled by the hellish waiting game but that was probably to be expected. After all, even out here in the middle of the Welsh wilderness they must have had situations like this mine-collapse before.

In the face of their cool professionalism, Tin-Tin felt herself beginning to calm down. She forcibly removed her finger from her mouth before she could do any more damage. You're a fully-trained member of International Rescue, she told herself sternly as her muscles began to relax. Stop acting like a frightened child! They'll be fine … Alanwill be fine …

Alan.

Everything always seemed to come back to Alan. Even when she didn't want it to – even when nothing aggravated her more – Tin-Tin still found herself thinking about Alan Tracy. And cursing his name. And, in this current situation, worrying herself half to death about him.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She and Alan … they'd been friends for so long. Sure, their first meeting hadn't been exactly brilliant – he'd pulled her hair and she'd pushed him into the pull – but over the intervening years they'd become closer than she could ever have imagined. Tin-Tin knew there were things that Alan told her that he wouldn't tell any other person – not even members of his family – and the same was true of her. Even Fermat, the third member of their little group, had noted the changes between them all, particularly in the last couple of years. Had he been anyone else, Fermat probably would have reacted with jealously, but luckily for Alan and Tin-Tin he'd taken everything in his stride.

Randomly, Tin-Tin wondered what Fermat would think if he knew she and Alan had kissed. Just thinking about that unexpected development made her cheeks flame. It was the cause of all her current problems and yet she just couldn't get it out of her mind. The feeling of Alan's soft lips pressing nervously against hers, the sudden quickening of her pulse and most of all, the feeling of complete 'rightness' that refused to leave her. Even now, when she should have been completely focused on what was undeniably a complicated mission, Tin-Tin's attention was wandering back towards the kiss and the problem of Alan Tracy.

Feeling frustrated with her own inability to focus, Tin-Tin was about to cast about for something else to occupy her time when a flurry of activity around the mine's entrance snared her attention. Squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun, a rush of relief suffused her as one of the dark blurs began to coalesce into a familiar figure.

Though she wanted nothing more than to greet those emerging from the mine, Tin-Tin knew she had been neglecting her duty long enough. Turning to Mobile Control, she patched a hurried connection through to Thunderbird 5.

"Thunderbird 5 from Mobile Control. Please respond."

Before she had even finished speaking, the worried face of John Tracy appeared on her screen. He was hiding his anxiety well but Tin-Tin could see his concern in the tight lines around his eyes and the way his skin almost matched the bleached colour of his hair. "Thunderbird 5 all receiving. What's going on down there?" his voice was level and only someone who knew him as well as Tin-Tin would notice the underlying note of tension.

"Virgil's just emerged from the mine," Tin-Tin reported, a smile breaking over her face. "There are two – wait, no three with him. I think one of them is Gordon … yes, yes I can see him now. Virgil, Gordon and two strangers – they must be the miners." She narrowed her eyes. "They're carrying something …"

"It must be Scott. Didn't Alan say he was on a stretcher?"

Tin-Tin nodded, her eyes scanning the group intently, searching for one particular face. It was difficult to make anything more out; the waiting paramedics had swooped down upon the weary group as soon as they had stepped into the sunlight and as Tin-Tin watched, the stretcher bearing Scott was lifted into the back of one of the ambulances.

She described the scene distractedly to John, her eyes still straining for any sign of the only person still unaccounted for. Where was he?

John was still talking. "I'll contact base and let them know what's happening. Find out what hospital they're going to, will you?"

"FAB."

"Tin-Tin?" a second voice demanded her attention and the young woman looked up see that a weary, dust-covered Virgil was standing before her, having crossed the rough grass from the mine's entrance.

"Virgil!" Even though she had known he was okay, seeing him in front of her, safe and whole, still brought a bright smile to her face. "Are you okay?"

Virgil shrugged fluidly. "Nothing a nice long soak in the bath won't fix."

"How are Scott and Gordon?"

Virgil leaned over the console so that he could see John's face. "They're going to be okay. Paramedics are taking them to Morriston Hospital – it's a couple of miles southwest of here. I'm going to follow them in TB 2."

"FAB. I'll let base know." John paused before he cut the connection and looked seriously at his brother. "I'm glad you're all okay, Virgil."

Virgil grinned. "You and me both. Talk about charmed lives."

John smiled as his image disappeared from Mobile Control's screen.

Virgil turned to Tin-Tin. "Can you get this all packed away in Thunderbird 1? We're about ready to move out."

"Yeah, sure …" Tin-Tin bit her lip as Virgil turned to go. "Virgil!" she called suddenly.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "What?"

Tin-Tin swallowed. "… Where's Alan?"

Alan Tracy was regretting his decision to be the one to crawl back through the mine in the Mole, dragging the broken hull of the Firefly behind him.

For one thing, the additional weight of the Firefly was making the journey incredibly slow-going and having to navigate between the metal supports the firemen had erected to support his escape route made his job even more difficult. Then there was the fact that it was so hot and stuffy inside the Mole that Alan was beginning to feel rather light-headed.

He ran one hand over his forehead in a vain attempt to sooth away the growing ache that seemed to radiate out from the back of his skull to encompass his whole head. What he wouldn't do for an aspirin right now, but unfortunately he couldn't spare the time from driving the Mole to search the vehicle for any kind of first aid kit.

The darkness beyond the Mole's lights was very disorientating. Alan had no way of judging how long he had been struggling to get out of the mine; the minutes were beginning to blur together. His eyelids were starting to droop and it became harder and harder to force them open each time.

A vague feeling of unease stirred in the pit of Alan's stomach. The heat must really be getting to me, he thought hazily, fixing his eyes on the beams of light that were his only guide through the darkness of the mine.Funny, I don't remember it being this hot when I was coming in. Maybe it's that damn fire again, playing with me …

His mind started drifting as the sea of black swam before his eyes. He found himself wondering what all of his family were doing at that very moment; whether Virgil, Gordon and Scott had reached the exterior of the mine yet; how much longer it would take his Dad to reach them and how John was coping, trapped up in Thunderbird 5 with no one but Tin-Tin to give him sporadic reports …

Tin-Tin.

Ah, Tin-Tin. The one person that Alan had been studiously trying to avoid thinking about, and the one person who simply refused to get out of his head. Thoughts of the pretty Malayan girl seemed to stalk him; even now, when he should have been concentrating on the task at hand, he found himself constantly returning to Tin-Tin Kyrano.

She was just … she was just so … so Tin-Tin. With her shiny dark hair, and her smooth golden skin and those eyes … those dark eyes that seemed to see right down into the heart of your soul. Those unfathomable eyes that ensnared you and refused to relinquish their grip. Those deep liquid pools that absorbed you, consumed you … those eyes … those beautiful eyes …

Alan's head lolled forward and his hand slipped off the controls. For one fateful second, the Mole was careening unchecked towards the bare rock wall of the mine but before the deadly collision could occur, Alan came back to himself with a jolt and yanked furiously at the controls. The Mole shuddered to a halt a couple of inches before the rock-face, with an ear-wrenching grinding of mechanics.

His hands shaking, Alan cut the power to the engine and took several deep, controlled breaths. That had been too close. For the first time he could understand what people meant when they talked about 'staring death in the face' – and it wasn't an experience he would ever care to repeat. Staring out into the darkness that had nearly consumed him, Alan cursed his foolish and almost fatal lack of attention. If his brothers ever found out about this then he'd never hear the end of it and as for his dad … well, to his dad it would be just one more example of Alan's irresponsibility.

Determined that he wasn't going to suffer such a frightening loss of concentration again, Alan grabbed the first thing he could find in the back of the Mole and shoved it resolutely beneath his thighs. The sharp edges of the flashlight pressed uncomfortably against his skin but it was a small price to pay for avoiding another collision with the wall and being buried beneath hundreds of feet of rock.

Gingerly restarting the Mole's engines, Alan eased the vehicle away from the side of the tunnel and continued his lonely journey back towards the light.