ANISH the Engine-Room worker shifted unhappily as he stood on a quiet section of open deck near the bow of the Keewatin. Penelope and Patrick began to grill him over what he'd been doing inside the Cargo Bay.
"I was taking my break," Anish said.
"Don't you have a Mess Room for that?" asked Patrick. "People don't normally go snooping around in a ship's cargo hold."
"What were you expecting to find in that trunk you were looking over?" Penelope asked. "A dead body perhaps?"
Anish was confused. "Dead body?" he asked. "What are you talking about? What's happened to Beth?"
Patrick frowned. "Beth?" he asked. "What do you know about her?"
Anish looked agitated. "Where is she?" he demanded, sounding a little bit aggressive.
Penelope and Patrick exchanged looks. "Where's she supposed to be?" asked Penelope.
"In the trunk," answered Anish. "That was the plan."
"What plan?" asked Patrick. But then the penny dropped. "My God! You and young Lady Roystone!"
"You were the other man!" Penelope said, as she too realised.
"It was the only way," said Anish, he was starting to shake nervously. "Her parents would never understand. A person like me - they consider us the lowest of them all."
"It WAS you who shouted 'Man Overboard'!" said Penelope.
Anish nodded miserably, realising he could no longer hide the truth. "She hid in the air intake," he said. "I left clothes for her."
"A maid's uniform?" asked Penelope.
Anish nodded again. "She was to make her way to the cargo hold and hide in the trunk until we got to Tobermory. Then we'd sneak onto my brother's boat and leave. Never to return."
"Why all the secrecy?" asked Patrick.
"With respect, sir, did you not hear what I said about her parents?" asked Anish. "They consider people like me scum. They'd never allow us to be together."
Penelope sighed and rolled her eyes. "Those damn Roystones and their beliefs," she cursed. "This is the twenty-first century! Class and racial beliefs are no longer a thing!"
"They are on here," said Anish sadly. "I've never met the Roystones. Never even seen them up close. The shipyard employed me. They would probably have me thrown overboard if they saw me anywhere on the passenger decks." Tears began to form in his eyes.
This sickened Penelope and Patrick, giving them even less respect for the Roystones.
"How does Neville Morton fit into this?" asked Patrick.
Anish stared at him for a second. "Who?"
Penelope and Patrick looked at each other again. No sooner did one part of the mystery get revealed when another one would open up. It seemed the mysterious death of Morton had absolutely nothing to do with Beth's disappearance. And yet, Penelope could not help but feel that they were connected somehow.
Patrick and Penelope soon met up with Patricia and headed along the promenade deck, leaving Anish to go back to his work but giving him strict instructions to leave the finding of Beth to them, which he'd reluctantly agreed with.
"So she was seeing an Indian gentleman?" asked Patricia.
"Yes, his name's Anish," Penelope explained. "We found him trying to open the trunk that Neville was in. Seems Beth was meant to hide in it."
"Do you fully believe him?" asked Patrick.
"I'm inclined to," replied Penelope. "He looked genuinely distressed when he realised that Beth really had gone missing."
"I suppose it's one thing for a daughter to marry someone of a completely different nationality," said Patricia.
"Her parents would never allow it," said Patrick. "Which in this day and age is disgraceful. If we were on dry land I'd be giving Lionel and Deborah a piece of my mind!"
"I'm getting dangerously close to doing that myself," admitted Penelope.
"Let's try and not get to that stage yet, please," Patricia said to her daughter and husband. "Let's try and find Beth first shall we?"
"She's on this ship somewhere," agreed Patrick. "Let's find her."
Scott and Alan had returned to Earth from the Moon and were given a warm welcome by the rest of the family.
"Congratulations, boys," said Jeff. "The whole planet is grateful, even though they don't even know it."
"Ah, no big deal, Dad," said Alan. "It's not like we haven't saved the entire world before from the Sun."
"Very true, son. Very true," agreed Jeff.
Alan then yawned and stretched. "If it's okay with you all, I think I'm gonna go and sleep."
"Of course, Alan," said Jeff. "Go rest up. You've earned it."
Alan hugged his father before leaving the room.
"You too, Scott," said Jeff. "You both earned it."
"I'm not tired, Dad," Scott replied. "I am hungry though."
"Ooh, goody!" said Grandma. "I'll go and get the piece of pie I kept warm for you."
But she'd barely taken two steps towards the kitchen before John suddenly called in. "International Rescue - we have another situation."
"What is it this time, John?" asked Jeff.
"I've picked up a distress call from an Oil Rig in the Barents Sea," said John. "A fire has broken out and the whole thing is in danger of exploding."
"How many aboard?"
"Six," said John. "And there's a storm raging around the rig as well. No Support Vessels or aircraft can get anywhere near to evacuate them."
"Okay, John, tell them we're coming," said Jeff. "I'll send Thunderbird 2 out there." He turned around. "Virgil, Gordon, on your way."
"F-A-B!" Virgil and Gordon responded.
"Let's launch," added Scott as he made for the revolving wall panel.
"Wait, hang on, Scott!" said Grandma. "You've just been on a mission in space! You can't be going out on another mission this soon?"
"People are in danger, Grandma," Scott replied stubbornly. "If the weather's as bad as John says then Thunderbird 2 may need back-up."
Everyone looked at Jeff. Jeff didn't want Scott to go either but he knew this wasn't the time for a debate. "Fine. Go ahead, Scott," he said. "But let Thunderbird 2 do the major work."
Scott nodded. "I will, Dad," he said.
"See you in the sky, Scott!" Virgil called as the rocket painting tilted up to send him down the launch chute to Thunderbird 2. Scott pulled down the wall lamps and was turned to use his travel elevator to go down to Thunderbird 1 whilst Gordon went round to his own express elevator to head down to join Virgil in Thunderbird 2.
Soon all three brothers were in their uniforms. Scott climbed into Thunderbird 1 which travelled up its diagonal tunnel to the launching bay under the swimming pool. Virgil was the first to arrive in Thunderbird 2 and after closing the hatch above him, ran to his seat and selected Module 3 from the computer. The conveyor moved Modules 1 and 2 underneath before stopping with Module 3 underneath. Virgil lowered the main body down and locked the module into place before Gordon arrived seconds later, taking up position in the co-pilot's seat beside his brother. The large boulder that concealed the entrance to the hangar slid down to allow Thunderbird 2 to taxi out onto the runway as the palm trees folded it back to allow it to pass. Whilst this was happening, Thunderbird 1 had gotten into position in the launch bay and the swimming pool had moved back so that it could take-off. Thunderbird 2 reached the launch ramp and stopped. The wings folded out and the ramp was lifted into place with the blast shield rising behind the boosters.
5! 4! 3! 2! 1!
Thunderbird 1 launched first, rising out through where the pool had been and pushing away all of the sun-loungers - for the zillionth time. Thunderbird 2 then launched, climbing away from the island to follow after its much smaller sistership.
"Thunderbirds are GO!" said Scott as the two ships set course for Russia.
Night had fallen over the United Kingdom and the waters surrounding it. The Keewatin was now heading North with a large Moon shining down upon it.
The Creighton-Wards had decided they needed to have dinner as their search for Beth had so far gotten them nowhere, and soon they were going to find that they had a much larger problem to deal with when one of the stewards came over to their table saying that Lionel had requested their presence in his suite.
Patrick walked in first with Penelope behind him. They were surprised to find Owen in there as well and the two men seemed to be talking in anxious hushed voices. "Evening, gentlemen," said Patrick. "You asked for us, Lionel?"
"Y-Yes, I did," stammered Lionel, his brow was sweating again. "We've just received a very disturbing piece of news. Looks like the threat to this ship is real after all. We had a message sent saying there are bombs on board that are set to detonate at midnight."
This sent a chill down Patrick and Penelope's spines. "Can I see the message?" asked Penelope.
Lionel and Owen froze momentarily and Lionel began fumbling through his pockets. "I-I don't have it," he said. "Owen, I gave it to you!"
Owen looked confused. "I don't have-"
"Damn it, man!" snapped Lionel.
"Okay, okay!" Patrick said, quietening them all. "What exactly did it say?"
Lionel mopped his brow. "That there are two bombs on board the ship!"
"Two?" asked Penelope.
"Yes, the ship is compartmental," said Owen. "If one bomb went off we could seal the compartment and the ship would likely remain afloat. But two would mean the end for the Keewatin."
"Just like the Titanic," said Patrick.
"Which I have no intention of letting happen!" said Lionel. "I spent far too much on this ship for me to lose her!"
"We should consider evacuation," Patrick said.
"But what about Beth?" asked Lionel. "My daughter is still missing somewhere here!"
"How long would it take to get everyone off this vessel?" asked Penelope.
"Twenty minutes," said Lionel. "Thirty at the most."
Penelope glanced anxiously at the clock on the wall. "It's almost ten-thirty now," she said. "That gives us one hour to find the two bombs and see if they can be disarmed safely. You'd better put the crew on stand-by just in case we fail."
Lionel, Owen and Patrick nodded in agreement.
Thunderbirds 1 and 2 continued to make their way across the world towards the Barents Sea. Scott decided to check in with John for any updates. "Thunderbird 5, any change to the situation?"
"The fire is spreading rapidly, Thunderbird 1," answered John. "It's getting dangerously close to the fuel storage tanks. If it reaches it…"
"Ka-boom," said Scott. "Understood. What's the weather situation?"
"Pretty bad, I'm afraid," said John grimly. "Gale Force Seven winds and heavy rain. However the fires should be enough to guide you in on the rig."
"Let's just hope we're not too late," said Virgil who had been listening in from Thunderbird 2.
"How long before you get there, Thunderbird 2?" asked Scott.
"At best speed, ten minutes from now," said Virgil.
"I'm about five out," said Scott. "When I get there I'll do a recon and see if I can locate the trapped men."
"F-A-B," said Virgil.
Brains then piped in. "V-Virgil. Gordon. There's a n-new piece of equipment inside the module that is perfect for the upcoming rescue."
"Brains, do you physically know what our next mission is going to be and prepare the modules accordingly?" joked Gordon.
"I w-wish it could be that simple, Gordon. But no," Brains replied. "It's a r-rescue platform. It is double the size of the r-rescue chairs you've used up until this point, Virgil, and someone can travel inside the platform and load people on in complete safety."
"Okay, Brains, thanks," said Virgil. "I'm not even sure we'd be able to use the evac-chairs anyway in this weather."
"Far too risky," agreed Scott. "You'd have needed to take Thunderbird 2 right in and there'd be a danger of you getting blown into the rig."
John then interrupted. "Hold on, guys," he said. "I'm getting another call coming through."
"Another emergency?" asked Gordon.
"No, it's one of our own," said John. "It's Lady Penelope."
Gordon suddenly got all excited. "Ooh, ooh, ooh! Let me speak to her, John!"
John however decided to put Penelope through to them all. "Go ahead, Lady Penelope. What's up?"
Penelope's hologram appeared in the three Thunderbirds and Tracy Island. "Hello, boys," she said. "I was going to say that I hope you aren't busy but seeing as you're already in uniform I'm guessing you are?"
"We're on our way to deal with a fire at an oil rig in Russia," said Gordon.
"Oh, dear," said Penelope. "That's not what I was hoping to hear."
"What's wrong, Lady Penelope?" asked Scott. "You sound distressed."
"Maybe a little, Scott," Penelope replied. "My father and I are currently searching the Keewatin for two bombs."
"Bombs?!" the brothers, Brains, Jeff and Grandma all exclaimed at the same time.
"Yes, a threat has been made against this ship," explained Penelope. "The bombs are set to go off at midnight. We're hoping to find them before then though."
"Don't worry, Penelope, we'll come and help you," said Gordon.
Everyone stared at him.
"Er, Gordon, have you forgotten something?" asked John. "You're already on your way to the oil fire."
"But this is more important!" Gordon said.
"Er, how exactly?!" asked Scott. "There are six men in grave danger aboard the oil rig, Gordon! They need our help!"
"And there's over a-hundred or more people on the ship Penelope's on!" snapped Gordon.
Whilst everyone realised Gordon had a point, they all waited to see what Jeff had to say. His decision was a quickly-made one. "Continue to the rig, boys," he said. "You're not far from it now."
"F-A-B, Dad," said Virgil and Scott.
"What?!" protested Gordon. "But-"
"Gordon…" said John, Scott and Virgil altogether. "SHUT UP!"
Gordon fell silent and folded his arms in a huff. "Tossers," he snorted.
"I heard that, Gordon!" barked Jeff angrily. "Use that kind of language again and I'll-"
"Boys, Mr Tracy, please!" Penelope said, silencing them all. "We still have well over an hour to find the bombs and dispose of them. I was simply hoping to ask for assistance with the evacuation if we're not able to disarm them."
"Once we've rescued the men on the rig and delivered them safely to hospital we'll come to your location, Lady Penelope," said Scott. "Does that satisfy you, Gordon?"
Gordon made a huffy noise.
"I think that was a 'yes'," remarked Virgil with a smirk.
"Very good," said Penelope. "Gordon, try not to worry about me. We'll be okay. Over and out."
Having alerted the necessary crew to the danger, Penelope, Patrick, Lionel and Owen began to form a plan to locate the bombs. It began with Lionel and Owen rolling out the drawings of the Keewatin. "Right, the bombs will have been placed below the waterline," Penelope said.
"That's the entire lower deck here," said Lionel, producing the correct set of drawings. "That's the engine and boiler rooms, a couple of utility rooms and the bow and stern areas are cargo holds."
"We should split up," said Patrick.
"I'll take the engine room," said Lionel.
"I'll take the bow," added Owen.
Patrick nodded. "Good," he said. "Let's get moving."
They split up as they headed to their respective search areas with Patrick and Penelope going to check and utility areas.
From the viewing screen in the cockpit of Thunderbird 1, Scott noticed an orange glow in the distance amongst the blackness of the night. "I have a visual on the rig," he said. "Moving in for a closer look." He brought his ship in through the rain and up towards the giant rig. It was a lot larger than he was expecting and the fires were burning ferociously. "Oh, man, this is big," Scott remarked. "Now where are those guys?" He used Thunderbird 1's heat-seeking radar to search the rig for the missing crew-members. He soon caught on to six life signs. "Thunderbirds 2 and 5, this is Thunderbird 1 - I have a visual on the crew. South-side. They're trapped on an inspection platform."
"Copy that, Thunderbird 1," said John.
"F-A-B, we'll take it from here," added Virgil as Thunderbird 2 arrived on the scene.
The men hadn't even noticed the Thunderbirds arriving for they were too busy trying to stay clear of the flames above and the freezing cold water below. "NU ZHE! NU ZHE!" one shouted to his comrades before looking up as a massive explosion ripped through part of the rig.
From his position aboard Thunderbird 5, John watched in alarm as one of the drill towers buckled and began to topple over - directly towards where Thunderbird 1 was hovering. "Scott, move! That tower's coming down!"
"Got it!" Scott acknowledged as he saw the danger. He adjusted Thunderbird 1's jets and managed to get out of the way, just seconds before the tower slammed into the water.
"Thunderbird 1, any damage?" asked John.
"Negative, John. I'm good," Scott answered. "Virgil, how's it looking?"
Virgil gritted his teeth. "This approach angle is no good," he said. "I'm gonna swing around."
"Watch the wind, Thunderbird 2," warned John.
"Relax, John," said Gordon. "Virgil and Scott were watching the wind when you still had diapers."
Scott, John and Virgil didn't think that was funny, but they couldn't be bothered to have a go at him about it.
Jeff and Brains watched on the hologram on Tracy Island as the green shape of Thunderbird 2 moved in closer to the rig. "Come on, boys," Jeff said to himself.
There came another massive explosion and the fireball almost engulfed Thunderbird 2 making Gordon cry out in alarm.
"Woah, hang on!" Virgil said as he pulled Thunderbird 2 back away from the rig.
Scott was relieved to see that Thunderbird 2 was okay, then allowed himself to start chuckling at the sound of Gordon's heavy breathing. "Who needs the diapers now, Gordon?" he asked.
Gordon had nothing to say.
"Do you want to take the helm whilst I use the platform or do you want to be the first to use it?" Virgil asked.
Gordon quickly recovered himself. "I'll do it!" he said as he hastily unfastened himself and raced out of the cockpit. He was now determined to win back the respect of his brothers. Once he was gone, Virgil, Scott and John all exchanged knowing looks and grinned at each other.
Gordon entered the module and found a large yellow platform around the size of Thunderbird 4 attached to the main winch cable. "Woah," he said. "Brains, you've outdone yourself yet again!" He donned his helmet and climbed aboard the platform. "In position, Virgil," he said.
"F-A-B, Gordon," answered Virgil. "I've managed to find a safe hovering position. Opening the hatch and commence lowering."
The hatch underneath the module opened and the platform started to descend out into the open. Gordon had to hold onto the rail as he felt the strong wind trying to push him around. He was glad that his suit gave him protection from the elements. "Here we go! Rescue platform's on its way," he said.
"Gordon, how's it going?" asked Virgil.
"It's looking good, Virgil," Gordon answered. "Keep her going. I'll keep an eye out for the crew." He peered over the side to watch out for the men.
The rig crew had finally realised that International Rescue had arrived, but knew they were still in danger so long as they were still on the rig. One yelled to another who had been dangerously close to the rough seas. The man jumped across to the inspection platform and collided painfully with it. He almost fell into the sea but managed to grab a railing to save himself.
"Okay, I see them!" Gordon said to Virgil. "Hold it there!" He went to a small rotating computer monitor located in the middle of the platform and turned it towards where the men were. The infrared screen showed him the locations of the men and he used the targeting system to lock onto them. "Targets acquired," he said. "Firing rescue lines!" He pushed a button that launched six rescue grapple lines out to the men for them to latch on to their harnesses. "COME ON, GUYS, HOOK THEM UP!" Gordon shouted down to them. "WE'VE GOTTA GET YOU OUT OF HERE!" The men each gave a signal and called out in Russian to say that they were ready. "They're ready, Thunderbird 2."
"F-A-B," acknowledged Virgil. "Bringing you up now." He reversed the winch and the platform began to rise back up towards Thunderbird 2.
The men were lifted off the rig but found themselves swinging around like fish on the ends of fishing lines. "BEREGIS'!" one shouted as he bumped into another.
Brains and Jeff continued to watch. They could see from the rig's hologram that it was glowing bright orange in the areas where the fire was burning. The section closest to where the men were being lifted was the brightest of all. "They'd b-better hurry," said Brains, nervously. "The rig's about to b-blow!"
As if on cue, more of the smaller fuel storage tanks detonated creating another massive fireball and the shockwave rocked the men, the platform and Thunderbird 2. The men bumped and banged into each other.
"Sorry, guys!" Virgil apologised over the tannoy. "Hold on tight. Here we go!"
"Come on, Virgil," Jeff said anxiously.
"Hang on, guys!" Gordon called down as the platform began to reach the module.
"How are you doing, Gordo?" asked Virgil over the radio.
"Never better, bro!" replied Gordon.
As Thunderbird 2 began to move away from the rig, John spoke to Scott once more. "The workers are clear," he said. "Thunderbird 1, commence knock-out procedure."
"F-A-B, Thunderbird 5," answered Scott. He repositioned Thunderbird 1 into a position where it was facing directly at the oil rig which was suffering from yet more explosions and was almost completely ablaze now. He then opened a small hatch on the top of the ship revealing another new invention of Brains' - a hydro-glycerine-filled extinguishing missile. "Lining up on target," Scott said. "Fire." He pushed a lever and the missile was launched directly into the heart of the inferno. It exploded and the fire-killing chemical spread out rapidly across the entire structure. Within thirty seconds all the flames had been extinguished. The rig was badly damaged - but there was no longer any danger of it exploding completely or collapsing.
"Bull's eye!" said Scott.
"Outstanding, Thunderbird 1," said John. "You've done it again, Brains."
Brains blushed. "Oh, you guys," he said.
"Well done, boys," said Jeff proudly. "Now get those men to hospital. They'll need treatment."
"F-A-B!" Scott, Virgil and Gordon acknowledged as Thunderbirds 1 and 2 began to fly away from the rig.
Penelope and Patrick had reached the stern Cargo Bay of the Keewatin having checked other parts of the ship. They found it was full of crates, trunks and other boxes. More even than the bow one had contained.
"It could be in any one of these," Patrick said, tapping one of the crates.
"And there's no time to look through them all," agreed Penelope.
Lionel then entered followed closely by Owen.
"Engine and boiler rooms are clear," said Lionel.
"Nothing in the bow Cargo Bay either," added Owen. He was out of breath having been running.
"We've checked the utility rooms," said Patrick. "There's nothing. Nothing at all. Could all this just be some kind of sick joke?"
Penelope had a hard think. She then came to a decision. "Could the bombs be between the hull plates?" she asked.
"They could be anywhere!" replied Lionel.
"No, I don't think so," said Penelope. "The bomber would have needed to work away from others so that nobody would see them work."
"Morton?" Patrick said. "Could he have planted them?"
"Yes, he could have," said Penelope. "But that doesn't explain who murdered him or why."
"So, it has to be the Cargo Bays then?" said Lionel.
Penelope began to look around the walls of the Cargo Bay. "These are where we need to focus our attention," she said. "Help me look for anything that looks different."
"Such as?" asked Patrick.
"Some kind of moveable plate I reckon," said Penelope. Then she had a thought. "Wait…that's why the bomber needed the special screwdriver."
"Where is it?" asked Patrick.
"Still in the Sick Bay," said Lionel.
"I'll go and get it," said Owen and he hurried off.
Unaware of what was going on below decks, Patricia and Deborah were in one of the lounges. Patricia had just revealed to Deborah about Anish and that Beth had hidden herself away so that she could run away with him. As she feared, Deborah did not take the news well at all.
"What?!" Deborah said in disgust. "No! No, she'd never do that to me!"
"Deborah, there is nothing wrong with people from other parts of the world," Patricia said. "I've worked with several over the years and they are wonderful people."
"She better not be planning to marry him if so," Deborah said, her body shaking with anger. "I would never permit such a thing."
Patricia was starting to get angry as well. "For God's sake, Deborah, you might be stuck in the early 1900s but in case you hadn't noticed, the rest of the world is not! Racial and class systems are no longer a thing. It's about damn time you and Lionel came to accept that."
Deborah looked back at Patricia. "No," she said simply. "No, I can't." She picked up her wine and took a swig, whilst Patricia seethed in silence.
Patricia then stood up. "You know there was once upon a time that Patrick and I respected you and Lionel. But you've just crossed the line, Deborah. You think everything should revolve around you and that nothing should be done any other way. Our connections end with this voyage. No wonder Beth wanted to run away from you."
Deborah stared at Patricia in shock. "Well, that's rude!" she fumed.
"You needed to hear it!" Patricia snapped, her voice raised. "You and Lionel are nothing but a disgrace to the British Aristocracy! Like I said - our connections end tonight!" She turned and stormed out of the lounge, leaving Deborah speechless. It was then that she suddenly noticed that almost everyone in the lounge was looking at her, and not in a supportive way either. She tried sipping her drink again but her nerves were now so bad that the glass shook right out of her hand, dropping onto the floor and spilling wine on the carpet.
Penelope, Patrick and Lionel worked quickly to shift as many crates and boxes around the Cargo Bay as they searched for any sign of a removable plate in the wall. It did not take long for Penelope to notice that one part looked different from the rest. "Here!" she said. "This has to be it."
Lionel and Patrick shifted one more crate out of the way so that Penelope could get to the plate. As she examined it closely, she saw that the screws in the plate looked exactly the same as the head of the screwdriver.
Owen returned with it seconds later. "I have the screwdriver, Lady Penelope," he said.
"Thank you," Penelope replied as she took it from him and began to unscrew the screws from the plate. There were three on each side so it wasn't a very fast job but Penelope worked as hard as she could whilst the three men watched on anxiously. Pulling the plate off, Penelope peered inside. "Bingo!" she said as the bomb was revealed. It looked like a rather simple device with a timer, a detonator, a timer and some wires. The timer on the clock said 01:06:33. "Anyone have the time?" she asked.
Owen checked his pocket-watch. "10:54," he said.
"Good," Penelope replied. "It is indeed set for midnight - just as the message said."
"What can we do about it?" asked Lionel anxiously.
"If I may suggest, Lionel, that we call up a bomb expert to walk us through it?" Patrick said. "Have one volunteer here to disarm this one and have someone at the other once we find it so both can be disarmed at the same time?"
"That would take too long, Father," Penelope said. "Besides, I've already taken care of it."
Patrick, Lionel and Owen looked inside the gap where the plate had been. Whilst they'd been talking, Penelope had pulled all of the wires out of the device and the timer was now off. The bomb was useless now.
"Wait, you didn't do-" Patrick began.
"One down, one to go," Penelope said and began to run for the doorway. "Come on!"
Penelope led the way as they hurried through the lower decks of the ship as they made their way from the aft Cargo Bay to the forward one. Even though they still had an hour before the second bomb was due to go off, they would not be able to relax until they knew it had been disarmed.
As soon as they reached the forward Cargo Bay they began to search on opposite sides with Penelope and Patrick checking the Port-side and Owen and Lionel checking the Starboard.
"OVER HERE!" Owen said, finding it in literary seconds.
"Gracious, that was quick!" remarked Patrick as he and Penelope came over to join them.
"Pure luck, your Lordship," Owen said.
They moved the crates out of the way and Penelope moved in to once again use the screwdriver to undo the screws to remove the plate. As she pulled it clear, the second bomb was revealed. But immediately there was something that caught Penelope's eye and made her freeze. The bomb was identical in every way to the one they'd found in the stern, but there was one difference. The numbers on the timer were not what she expected to see. "Twelve seconds?!" she said. Then she realised what this meant. She spun back round and grabbed Lionel and her father to pull them away. "MOVE!"
BOOM!