JEFF was concerned when John called in from Thunderbird 5. "Did they say how long they have left?"
"Colonel Casey told them the delay could be up to thirty minutes," John said. "Scott landed about ten miles from the base and was told to wait for the countdown to restart."
"And where does that leave the men on the space-station?" asked Jeff.
"I'm not sure," John replied. "The sealant is holding. I cannot see any more leaks. But the amount of oxygen they did have will be much lower than it should be."
"They can only have a f-few hours at most," agreed Brains.
Jeff gritted his teeth. "Whatever's wrong with that rocket better be sorted as soon as," he said grimly.
Colonel Casey checked her watch again. "How much longer?" she asked Dr Chen.
"We're doing all we can!" Dr Chen replied sharply. "With the greatest of respect, Colonel. The more you ask us, the longer it will take us."
Colonel Casey simply grunted in annoyance and walked away again.
Hawthorne was back at his station. This time he decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut and to continue monitoring the rocket's systems.
Thunderbird 1 sat in the large open field as they waited for news from Colonel Casey. Alan kept shifting around uncomfortably which soon began to get on Scott's nerves. "Alan, sit still, for Pete's sake!"
"Sorry, Scott," answered Alan. "It's just…well…erm…"
"What?"
Alan went slightly red in the face. "Awh, man. This is embarrassing," he muttered before confessing. "I need to go."
Scott slowly turned his head around the backrest of his chair to give his brother a very hard stare. "Are you kidding me?!" he said crossly. "You couldn't have gone BEFORE WE LEFT?!"
"Hey, there wasn't time!" Alan snapped back. "You practically dragged me to Thunderbird 1!"
Scott opened his mouth to respond but fell silent. He knew Alan was right. "Yeah. I did," he said. He flicked a switch that opened the access hatch door. "Go quickly," he said. "Colonel Casey may call us in at any time."
"F-A-B," said Alan before scurrying out of the craft.
Scott lay back in his chair and exhaled. "Who knew making a taxi run could be so stressful?" he said to himself.
Just then the radio started to beep. "Thunderbird 1 here."
Colonel Casey's hologram appeared. "The countdown's restarted. Come on in."
"F-A-B!" said Scott. He waited for the hologram to disappear before calling out. "ALAN! WE'RE ON!"
"ONE SEC!" Alan called back from outside. Scott rolled his eyes and waited until Alan had hurried back in after doing what he had to do. "Okay, ready."
"About time," Scott remarked as he pulled back the control levers.
Thunderbird 1's engines fired up and it lifted off vertically before heading forwards towards the OCT Base.
Dr Chen was looking out of the window of the control room alongside Colonel Casey. The night sky was starting to turn lighter as dawn was coming. "There's an hour to go, Colonel," said Dr Chen. "Where the hell is your astronaut?"
Before Colonel Casey could reply, Hawthorne interrupted. "Dr Chen! One of the perimeter guard stations has reported an unidentified rocket ship approaching the base."
"From where?" asked Dr Chen.
"The South-West," replied Hawthorne. "And it's not registering on the radar."
"Prepare the anti-air missiles," ordered Dr Chen. "And try and contact that-"
"Let it in," Colonel Casey said.
Dr Chen and Hawthorne stared at her. "What?!" they said together.
"I said, let it in!" ordered Colonel Casey. "It's bringing in the astronaut."
An awkward silence fell for a few seconds. Hawthorne looked on nervously as the two women stared hard into each others eyes.
Eventually, Dr Chen relented. "Deactivate anti-air defences," she said.
"Good," said Colonel Casey. "I'm going over to meet them. And remember - I want nobody anywhere within a-hundred yards of the gantry until after blast-off."
The security personnel in the watchtower that had initially sighted the approaching craft were startled even more when it passed and they saw the markings on it.
Hawthorne had joined Dr Chen at the window. They too were equally stunned as the sleek silver ship began to become more visible.
"Is that a Thunderbird?" asked Dr Chen.
Hawthorne adjusted his glasses. "I believe it is!" he exclaimed.
Everyone who could see watched in awe from a distance as Thunderbird 1 came in and landed on a pad about halfway between the control building and the gantry where the OCT-3 was located. Scott gently guided his ship over the pad before lowering the legs and touching down.
"So International Rescue is going to perform this flight?" Hawthorne said. "Why didn't the GDF tell us that to begin with?
"I don't know, Hawthorne," replied Dr Chen. "I damn well wish they had though. It would have made things a hell of a lot easier."
Looking over towards Thunderbird 1, they saw two figures in blue step out as a GDF car approached them.
"Shall we try and see who they are, ma'am?" asked Hawthorne.
"No," replied Dr Chen. "But whoever it is. I wish them luck."
The GDF car had picked up Scott and Alan and took them over to the base of the launch pad.
"Here you are, Alan," said Colonel Casey. "The OCT Supply Rocket launching pad. I presume you've had a crash-course on how to operate it?"
"Not exactly, Colonel," replied Alan. "However, Brains has made an adjustment to my helmet that should help me to operate it without any problems."
Colonel Casey checked her watch. "Less than forty-five minutes until blast-off," she said. "You'd better get aboard."
Alan looked up at the giant white rocket. For some reason it seemed a lot larger than Thunderbird 3. He did his best to remain as calm as he could. He took a deep breath then turned to Scott. "Well, I guess this is it."
Scott placed his left hand on Alan's right shoulder. "You got this, little brother," he said. "Just think it's Thunderbird 3 and you'll be fine."
Alan wished he shared Scott's confidence, but did his best not to show how really worried he was. "Thanks, Scott," he said. He then stepped out of the car and made his way into the lift.
The lift took Alan up several feet off the ground to almost the top of the rocket. When it stopped, the doors opened and he stepped out to walk along the gantry and into the rocket. Once inside, the door sealed automatically behind him. He climbed into the seat and strapped himself in. He looked around at all the unfamiliar controls. Only now did the full realisation of what he was doing come crashing down upon him like a ton of bricks. There were no windows to see out of. Nothing looked familiar. He almost began to feel like he had to have a panic attack. But then he remembered. Brains had given him an upgrade to help him. He took a few breaths to calm his nerves and then touched the side of the helmet to activate the new gizmo that Brains had put in. straight away the heads-up display in the helmet began to scan the controls and label each one so that he knew what each one would do and when he would need to do it. He had over half an hour to figure it out, and it came as a good reminder for him to remember that it was only in space that he needed to operate any controls. The take-off and re-entry were pre-programmed into the rocket's computer to do the most dangerous parts for him.
Grandma entered the lounge to find Jeff, Gordon, Kayo, Brains and Virgil all sitting in silence. Whilst nobody said it, they all knew what the other was thinking. "Any word from Alan or Scott?" Grandma asked as she put a tray of coffee down on the table.
"Latest report was that Alan was aboard the OCT-3 and is getting ready for launch," said Virgil.
Brains was very uneasy and pacing back and forth. Out of them all, he was the most worried of all.
"Brains, will you just sit down?" asked Kayo, annoyed.
"I c-can't," replied Brains nervously. "I c-cannot rest until I know that Alan is s-safely b-back on Earth."
"Has his stutter gotten worse?" Gordon whispered to Virgil.
Virgil nodded, but didn't respond. He knew Brains's stutter was always worse when he was nervous.
Jeff was once again by the window looking out. Grandma joined him. "Alan will be fine, Jefferson," she said. "I have faith in the kid. And so should you."
Jeff narrowed his eyes. "I'm not doubting Alan's capability, Mother. Nor do I doubt Brains' upgrade will fail him. But I'd feel a lot better if I could just see what was going on over there."
John had been listening in and decided to speak up. "I can help you with that," he said. "I can access one of Thunderbird 1's external cameras. You'll be able to see the rocket when it launches." He made some adjustments on his holographic controls. "And done!"
Everyone watched as a projection from the table brought up the camera feed from Thunderbird 1 that was pointing towards the OCT-3 rocket sitting on the launch pad.
"Woah!" remarked Gordon. "That's…big!"
"It's close to Thunderbird 3's size," said John.
"L-Larger even," finished Brains. "It exceeds T-Thunderbird 3's length by about t-three feet."
"It's not much I know," said John. "But I hope it helps, Dad?"
Jeff sat back at his desk and looked at the live feed of the rocket. "It will, John," he said. "Thank you."
"How long until launch?" asked Kayo.
"About t-ten minutes by m-my reckoning," answered Brains.
"Where's Scott I wonder?" said Gordon.
"I suspect he's in the control room with Colonel Casey and the OCT team," said Virgil.
"Rather him than me," Gordon remarked. "I bet things are pretty tense in that room right about now."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Scott and Colonel Casey stayed to one side of the main control desk whilst Dr Chen stood just behind where Hawthorne was sitting. As Gordon predicted, the atmosphere felt throughout wasn't a good one.
"Check all primary circuits."
"We just did, ma'am."
"Don't argue, Hawthorne. Do it!" snapped Dr Chen.
"It's getting pretty tense," Scott whispered to Colonel Casey.
"It was always going to be," replied Colonel Casey. "This is the last chance, Scott. The men on that space-station have less than two hours of oxygen left."
Scott gulped. He knew from astronaut training what being in a spacecraft with very little air could feel like and fully sympathized with what they were probably feeling.
Inside the OCT Station, the situation was dire. Neither Zimmerman nor Files were able to continue with their work. The lack of oxygen had made them both very tired. Zimmerman sat at the desk, rubbing his hand over his head as it was aching. Files was leaning on the controls themselves in an attempt to try and stay on his feet. "Try to…hang on…" he said weakly.
"Rocket gyros?"
"A-Okay."
"On-board computer?"
"Positive."
"Ignition systems?"
"Minus one-sixty."
"How long to go?" Scott asked Colonel Casey.
"Just over three minutes," she replied.
The next few minutes seemed to drag for everyone. None more so than Alan, sitting in the cockpit of the OCT-3. He hadn't said a word or called anyone like he'd been instructed to. He just kept his eyes on the lights and all of the instruments, hoping that everyone would remain as it should be.
"Blast-off, minus one-twenty," said Hawthorne. "Fuelling is complete. Closing vents."
Another minute passed with complete silence. But soon, the time had eventually come.
"Launch window open," said Hawthorne. "All Tracker-Stations report positive. Computer reports Space-Station is positive for rendezvous."
"Set ignition systems," said Dr Chen. "Switch to audio countdown."
"Yes, Doctor," replied Hawthorne. "Here we go."
"Twenty," said the robotic computer voice. "Fifteen."
"This is it," said Scott quietly.
"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero."
A sharp POW sounded out as the OCT-3's chemical rockets ignited.
"Release all umbilicals," said Dr Chen.
The umbilicals were released and the gantry retracted as the OCT-3 began to rise upwards. It cleared the gantry and began to climb higher and higher into the sky, its powerful thrusters accelerating it faster and faster towards the upper atmosphere.
On Tracy Island, everyone watched in awed silence as the rocket lifted off the launch pad.
"Good luck, son," whispered Jeff.
Alan felt the rocket shaking as he sat inside. It was a feeling he'd experienced many times before, and yet it felt so wrong because he was in a rocket that wasn't his own.
Scott, Colonel Casey, Hawthorne and Dr Chen watched the radar screen as the rocket made its way up.
"It's good!" said Scott.
"She's gonna make it!" added Colonel Casey.
Hawthorne and Dr Chen were too busy watching the screen to say anything.
The rocket had now climbed high enough to have successfully made it further than the ill-fated OCT-2 had done and was ready for the next stage to commence. As the fuel in the main section depleted, it was jettisoned to allow the booster of the second stage to activate. The main booster fell away where it would eventually drop into the sea away from any danger.
"Second stage positive," said Dr Chen, feeling a little relieved.
"So far so good," Colonel Casey said to Scott.
The rocket continued its accent, and soon it was time for the capsule to start the journey into space. It detached from the second stage and left the Earth's atmosphere before entering the interception orbit that would take it to the OCT Space-Station.
Now it was time for Alan to communicate with the OCT Base. "Cabin temperature - five-zero," he said into the radio. "Pressure - three-eight-six. All primary circuits are positive."
What Alan didn't know, and nobody else had been aware of this either, was that Brains's modification had tampered with the voice distorter that was also a part of Alan's helmet. It had made his voice sound a lot higher than it actually was.
"It sounds like a child!" observed Hawthorne.
Scott scowled but was cut off by Dr Chen before he could even open his mouth.
"Get on with the job, Hawthorne!" barked Dr Chen.
Hawthorne pulled himself together. "This is OCT Base," he said. "Reading you loud and clear."
"Changing attitude one-eight-zero in order to dock," said Alan. He moved the correct lever as instructed by the device in his helmet. Thrusters turned the supply capsule around by one-eighty degrees. Now it was flying in reverse towards the location of the OCT Station.
"Radar fix is good," said Hawthorne over the radio. "Will relay data directly from Tracker-Station. Check roll and pitch. You should have visual contact with Space-Station in four minutes."
"F-A, roger base!" Alan quickly corrected himself. He'd decided it was best to use the talk that the OCT people used rather than what International Rescue did.
The next four minutes passed in silence as Alan kept his eyes open for the Space-Station. Then as he looked at the monitor screen, he noticed two satellites in the distance. He recognised them both instantly. There was no mistaking the gravity ring of Thunderbird 5, and having been right outside the OCT Space-Station, he knew what it looked like as well.
"I have visual contact with Space-Station," Alan said. "Switching to manual control for rendezvous."
With the module completely under his own control now, Alan carefully guided it with guidance from the heads-up display in his helmet towards the OCT Station which got larger in the viewing screen as it got closer.
From his position on Thunderbird 5, John observed as the supply capsule came closer to the OCT Station. "I can see Alan's craft," John reported to Tracy Island.
"How does he look, John?" asked Jeff.
"He's doing fine," John replied. He looked at the hologram screen in front of him. "He's on course for the rendezvous. Should make contact in about ninety seconds."
"What about the men in the station?" asked Kayo.
"I haven't been able to reach them," John said. "Let's hope Alan has better luck raising them."
At that exact moment, Alan was attempting to make contact with the men in the Space-Station. "This is Supply Module 3 calling OCT Station. Hey guys, it's me again. You know, the International Rescue guy who couldn't get in? Well I'm going to help you this time."
"Keep it to the point, Alan," John groaned to himself. Only he was able to listen in on what Alan was saying.
"Open your rendezvous adaptor and switch on docking lights."
They waited for a response to come from the men in the station. But all they got was an uneasy silence.
"Module to OCT. Come in, please?" Alan said. "Come in, OCT Do you read me?" Still there was nothing. "Module to Base. I can't raise anyone aboard the station."
"What's happened?" asked Scott.
"I don't know," replied Dr Chen. "The men must have passed out due to the lack of oxygen." She turned to Hawthorne. "Call it off. Abort!"
"Base to Module. Abort rendezvous," Hawthorne said into the radio. "Repeat - abort rendezvous!"
But Alan had already made up his mind. "Sorry, Base. I'm continuing with the mission."
Scott then broke the rule they'd all agreed to. He tapped on his sash. "Alan, are you crazy? Without docking lights, you're going in practically blind! Abort the mission!"
"NO!" Alan yelled, stunning everyone into silence. "I DIDN'T COME ALL THIS WAY TO FAIL, SCOTT!" He then lowered his voice. "I made those men a promise. And I'm gonna keep it! Out!"
Scott and Colonel Casey exchanged worried glances with each other and then with Hawthorne and Dr Chen.
"What are the chances of him making it?" asked Colonel Casey.
"Without docking lights, next to none," replied Dr Chen grimly. "One tiny error of judgment and that capsule will be ripped to pieces!"
Scott looked anxiously back at the radar screen. "I hope you know what you're doing, little brother," he said quietly to himself.
Slowly but steadily, Alan brought the Supply Capsule closer to the Space-Station. He could see the docking bay with the inner airlock door that he'd tried to access through on his previous attempt and failed. All he needed to do was line the capsule up and gently back it in where hopefully the docking clamps would automatically lock into place. "Easy does it," Alan said to himself. "Don't screw this up, Al. Easy." Alan thought he'd got it right. But he was off by a few degrees. There was a clunk as the side of the capsule bumped into the edge of the docking area. "Damn!" said Alan furiously. "Let's try that again." He moved the capsule forwards a couple of feet before moving it over to the left by another few feet and then began to reverse again. This time it went in and docked with a clonk. "Contact!" he said triumphantly.
"I don't believe it!" exclaimed Dr Chen. "He's done it!"
"What about the men?" asked Colonel Casey.
Alan left the capsule now that the airlock was completed and entered the Space-Station after the display in his helmet enabled him to enter the key-code. He entered the control room and soon discovered why nobody had answered his calls. Zimmerman was slumped against the control desk whilst Files was lying on the floor. He bent down to check on Files. He saw from the nearby air ventilator that the white pieces of fabric that would flap when fresh air was blown in were now going to indicate that the docking had resupplied the station with fresh oxygen.
Files began to stir. He opened his eyes. "What the?!" he exclaimed when he saw Alan. "You?! How did you get in here? Am I dreaming?"
"No, buddy, you're not," smiled Alan. "I said I'd help you guys, didn't I?"
Files sat up and scratched his head in confusion. "Yes. Yes, you did," he said. "But you can't get in here without-"
"The Supply Capsule?" said Alan. "Yeah, I know. That's why I flew it here." He helped Files to his feet and guided him to a window where they could see the module docked at the side of the station.
"But there's only a select few who know how to fly it!" Files exclaimed. "There's no way you could have learnt how to fly it in a day! It's impossible!"
Alan grinned. "I'm part of International Rescue, remember?" he said. "We do the impossible all the time."
A groan from across the room told them that Zimmerman was starting to come around. He too was as surprised as Files was to see Alan, but after being told the story, both men were very grateful for what he'd done for them.
"This is OCT Station to OCT Base and International Rescue," said Alan into his sash. "The Station crew are safe. Repeat - the Station crew are safe."
The relief felt by everyone was great. But they couldn't celebrate yet. Only half of the mission had been completed.
With the astronauts safe and no longer in danger, it was time for Alan to return to Earth. Sealing the airlock, he disengaged the capsule from the Space-Station and gently moved away. But it was only now that Alan suddenly realised that the danger of the mission was far from over. In fact, it had gotten worse. "Supply Module to Base. Mission successful. The supplies have been delivered. But have damaged the homing aerial during docking manoeuvre. Repeat - have damaged homing aerial. Switching to stand-by procedure."
Scott spun round. "Wait, does that mean-?
"Yes, Mr Tracy," answered Dr Chen. "Your brother is going to have to bring that capsule back down to Earth manually."
"He's what?!" exclaimed Jeff.
"I'm afraid so, Dad," answered John. "He must have bent the aerial when he was docking with the station. Now he can't be brought back down automatically."
Jeff turned to Brains. "Can the device you put in his helmet help him, Brains?"
"It's helped him g-get this far, Mr Tracy," answered Brains. "He therefore s-should be able to bring it back down to Earth."
"Should?" said Kayo which made Brains gulp.
"You don't sound so sure, Brains," remarked Gordon.
Brains was normally one the calmest and most level-headed people on the whole island. So it came as a shock to them all when he suddenly exploded. "OF COURSE I'M NOT SURE, GORDON! THIS HAS NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE! I SIMPLY USED AN IDEA! THERE WAS ALWAYS A CHANCE THAT IT WASN'T GOING TO WORK!"
A stunned silence filled the room. Gordon had gone white and even Grandma and Jeff found themselves at a loss for words.
Jeff eventually broke the awkward silence. "Brains?"
"WHAT?!" Brain snapped. But then he suddenly realised who he'd yelled at and went very pale. "Oh, m-m-my! M-M-M-Mr T-T-T-Tracy…I am s-s-so sorry!" He then released what he'd done and sank to his knees. "Oh, g-gosh. I'm so s-sorry everyone."
Jeff came over and grabbed him by the shoulder. "It's okay, Brains. You're entitled to a rant every now and then like we all are. You feel better for it?"
Brains looked up. "Actually, yes I do," he said.
Jeff smiled before throwing a scowl at Gordon who remained sheepishly quiet.
Scott, Colonel Casey, Hawthorne and Dr Chen all watched the radar screen with apprehension as it showed the position and progress of the capsule.
Alan adjusted the controls and the capsule began to tilt downwards towards the Earth in order to begin the re-entry. "Retro minus-two-nine," Alan said to himself. "Heat shield in position. Here goes nothing."
As the capsule hit the atmosphere, a familiar orange glow began to appear around it as the heat built up. Normally Alan could see it due to the windows of Thunderbird 3, but on the screen it completely blocked out everything else and made visibility impossible. The capsule began to shudder and shake and Alan had to grip on the controls to make sure all was well.
It was hard for Alan to monitor the instruments due to the shaking but in the control room, things were a lot more obvious. "He's one-point-five degrees off!" said Dr Chen. "He needs to correct it or he'll burn up!"
Scott could feel his heart racing. "Alter trajectory, Alan. Come on!" he hissed with gritted teeth.
The icon moved further across the screen but still the capsule remained on its course.
"He's leaving it too late!" said Dr Chen.
Scott reached his for sash but was stopped by Colonel Casey. "No, Scott! Don't distract him! He could make it worse!"
Scott felt like he wanted to throw up as he looked back at the radar screen. "Alan…" he whispered in a hoarse voice.
Luckily for everyone though, the heads-up display in Alan's helmet told him of the problem and he was able to adjust the controls in order for the capsule to correct its course.
"He's corrected the angle," said Dr Chen with relief. "He's doing fine."
"He's gonna make it!" added Scott, relief now flowing through his veins.
It was another couple of minutes before the capsule was safely through the dangerous part and Alan was able to deploy the parachute so it could glide gently down towards the Atlantic Ocean.
Choosing to remain as incognito as possible, Scott flew out in Thunderbird 1 to collect Alan from the capsule as soon as it had landed and then left the OCT Recovery Helicopters to collect the now empty capsule and take it back to the base whilst Thunderbird 1 flew back to Tracy Island where a big well done party was put on for Alan.
Colonel Casey contacted them to forward congratulations and thanks to Alan. "I have a message from Dr Chen for you, Alan. whilst she wishes she could have met you in person, she wanted to thank you for all that you did. Said you flew that rocket almost better than any of the OCT astronauts have done."
Alan blushed. "Aww, shucks," he said. "Tell the Doctor she's welcome if you're still there?"
"I'm already heading back to GDF HQ, but I'll make sure she gets the message," said Colonel Casey. "As for the Space-Station, it'll soon be ready to start scanning the Earth. With any luck, The Cabal's movements will no longer be secretive. This is the first stage in a big operation I have in mind to bring them down - once and for all."
"Let's hope so," said Jeff. "Thank you, Martha."
Colonel Casey gave a nod and a smile before signing off.
Jeff then turned to his youngest son. "Well done, Alan," he said. "That was a mighty big task you had to do. But you pulled it off - and in fine style."
"I'll say," said Scott. "Performing a rescue without a Thunderbird? I never thought that would happen."
"I said this to Virgil a long time ago," Grandma added. "It's not the gear that rescues people - it's the Tracy! I think today has proven that beyond any doubt?"
Everyone agreed.
"Ah, I couldn't have done it without Brains' upgrade to my helmet," Alan replied. "He's the one who should get the thanks."
Brains now blushed. "Just d-doing my job, Alan," he said. "I don't expect thanks from anyone."
"Well you should, Brains," said Virgil. "None of our set-up would happen if it wasn't for you."
Brains blushed even more, unable to come up with a response.
Alan looked back at Jeff. "I said I wouldn't let you down, Dad," he said. "I guess I didn't?"
Jeff broke into a massive grin. "No, son," he said, pulling him into a hug. "No, you did not. I've never been more proud of you."