52

Thank you to Cantanatova for getting me through my stumbling writers block with a little rescue inspiration, thank you to all of you that are following this story too, its lovely to have you on board and I hope you continue to like the story!

It was New Year's Day. The boys were lounging around the pool keeping a watchful eye on Gordon who had been slowly pushing up his pool time. Although still weak out of the water he had gained a lot of his strength back and was able to swim despite the limited use of his legs. He was progressing well and had got to the point where he could stand again with supporting bars but only for very short periods, he still couldn't put one foot in front of the other. In the water he could move his legs a fraction and his feeling had come back in his right leg to just below the knee. The doctors and the physios were encouraged by these signs, he remained determined to walk again even if it was with limitations.

Scott was in the pool just in case his brother got into difficulty. He tried hard to concentrate on swimming but found he was distracted keeping an eye on Gordon so it was mostly a half-hearted affair. Virgil was reading sprawled across the sun lounger whilst Alan and John were chatting about their space mission which they were going into quarantine for tomorrow. The radio was on in the background playing a mix of modern and alternative music. The older Tracy's were indoors sheltering from the rising noon sun, Tin-Tin had returned to uni just after boxing day wanting to be back for the New Years celebrations.

The news report came on the radio. "Breaking news, A high atmosphere weather station known as Nimbus has got into difficulty over the Yukon after getting caught in blizzard conditions which caused mass engine failure. It has since been caught up in a strong wind current and is rising dangerously high in altitude with two meteorologists stranded onboard. Rescue attempts have been made including USAF air force trying to intercept; but so far, they have been unsuccessful due to the increasing level in altitude and their aircrafts not being suitable for aerial rescues, they are currently sitting at 30km and rising. The pilots cannot be roused. There is some concern that they could be heading out of the stratosphere where they will simply not be able to be rescued as there's not a craft on earth that could handle that altitude."

"Say; that sounds pretty dire." Alan cocked his head as he strained to listen to the radio. Scott and Gordon had swum over and were leaning on the edge of the pool to listen in.

"We will aim to bring you more on this breaking news story shortly. In other world news…"

"By the sounds of it there's not much hope for a rescue." Virgil settled his book on his lap marking its place.

"Not if USAF can't even intercept them, I take it that means there really is no craft that could cope with the altitude they are currently at." John looked to Scott who looked lost in thought, frowning in concentration. He seemed to be making up his mind before quickly hoisting himself out of the pool.

"There is one craft that might pull it off." Scott said as Virgil chucked him a towel. He tousled his hair furiously "and we're standing above her. Virg help Gordon out, then all of you clear the deck!" Scott started to sprint to the house.

"Where are you going?!" Yelled Alan after him.

"To see a man about a plane." He yelled back over his shoulder.

"You don't think…." Alan started.

"He wants to launch Velocity One?" finished John.

"Yeah I do, someone better get me out of this pool." Gordon cut in, looking at Virgil who quickly lifted him onto the edge and with John's help got him into his chair.

They headed into the lounge as a heated debate was taking place.

"Come on Dad, I know we're not ready to officially launch yet but she's been out for several test runs and been fine, if I don't leave now; I'm not even sure I'll be able to catch them. Let me try and bring them down, you know I have the piloting ability and the craft is more than capable. " Scott looked determined.

"I understand you want to help but if people see these craft flying before we're ready their going to have questions, questions we can't yet answer and could lead to unwanted attention. The satellites not even manned yet; we wouldn't be able to get the intel needed to guide you through the rescue."

John had picked up his laptop on the way through and had it balanced on his arm as he stood around his father's desk with his brothers. He pressed play and they could hear the military conducting the rescue operation. "Its no good sir, their at 45km now and rising we just can't catch them, this blizzard is getting worse. It's too dangerous to attempt we're going to have to stand down, over."

Jeff looked shocked. John looked tentative fearing a reprimand from his father this time, in place of his elder brother. "I've been coding the programming for the satellites data feeds; this is my test program but to be honest it functions pretty well."

"See we're good to go." Scott injected. He'd come to trust John's hacking ability. "Chances are the only people who will see One are the meteorologists. I just have to get them to the ground. I can drop them at a safe location they can be collected and I'll be out of there before anyone sees."

Jeff looked at the stubborn determination that he also suspected was mirrored in his own expressions. Scott stood proud with his chin tilted slightly upwards with a defiant look that Jeff was all too familiar with. There was a reason he had sent Scott to the military academy at such an early age. Jeff sighed, it would be a good maiden pre-launch test he supposed. They had yet to be able to practice in a real-life situation and Scott already had the piloting skills and experience to pull it off, if it was one of the others he would have said no, they still had more training to complete.

"Alright, off you go son, maintain constant radio contact."

"Yes sir!" Scott had finished pulling on his shirt as they spoke, he shoved his shoes on and ran over to the lamps clicking the switch that would spin him round into the hangar.

"John, bring that computer here so we can monitor the radio chatter together. Brains huddle round - we'll need you for some calculations and to charter the stations increasing position." Brains extracted himself from the corner where he had been hovering and headed over to the desk. The rest of the boys took a seat in the lounge. Virgil brought up the world news on the TV with subtitles so they could keep an eye on the latest developments. Gordon took himself to his room to get changed, Alan went with him to help.

Scott strapped himself into the seat and conducted his checks at speed before firing up the systems that would take him down to the launch bay. He felt her begin to taxi out. It still felt strange to be heading out vertically, One inched down the steep slope out of the hangar before rocking to a gentle stop on the launch pad. There was a firm click as the clamps of the base locked. "Velocity one to base. Ready to launch with your permission."

"Your clear to go. Commence launch in 5….4…..3…2…..1"

"Velocity one is go!" declared Scott as he rocketed out of the silo.

Gordon and Alan watched from his room. "Christ! that things fast!" All Gordon could see was a tiny spec as his brother hit supersonic.

"I'll say, he's a lucky devil getting to fly that!" Let's head back to the lounge and see how they're getting on.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXOXXOXO

"Approaching danger zone now." Scott radioed in.

"Ok Scott you need to climb to 55km at coordinates 63.62751° N, -135.50845° E." John called through.

"F.A.B"

"Scott; seriously are we going to use that as understood and received?" John asked.

"Yeah; we want secret right? No one outside the family is going to know what it means. Weather is pretty bad; I'm getting blown around like crazy and visibility is poor. Altitude is beyond thin; I can feel the strain on the engines already." The snow flurried around the aircraft.

"Do you have eyes on yet?" His father's commanding tone took over.

Scott checked his scanners and external cameras for signs. He strained against the controls, grunting at the effort of keeping her on course as she fought against him. What was that? – a flash of sliver in the white? "Got it! Eyes on. Rotors intact but not functioning yet they must still have some flight capabilities or they would have ascended higher by now. Currently at 60km and increasing."

"B-b-e Careful S-scott, 20km more and y-ou'll be on the upper limit of the mesosphere, velocity one has not been tested for thermosphere flight, we have no i-idea if she's capable. Her engines may very well cut out."

"Thanks Brains, duly noted. I'm going to attempt to get secure a line on it and then I can tow it out of here. John can you make radio contact with the pilots?"

"Hang on."

"No Scott, communications still down, USAF were able to make contact initially but one pilot was already confirmed to be unconscious they think the other one may be out due to altitude sickness."

"Alright, standby, attempting to attach a line."

Scott lined up the shot, it kept moving off target as he was being buffered by intense gale force winds. He squinted as he lined up his shot, his thumb hovering over the button. He waited for a violent tail wind to pass before depressing the button. It hit the metal of the station on first attempt. Scott tried to turn one around but he turned sharp into the wind, which caused the engines to falter. "No, no, no! Come on! You were doing so well!" He wrestled with the controls whilst trying to reboot the engines, at least they weren't rising anymore, One was heavier than the weather station which looked like an oversized drone. The Blizzard whipped up in a crescendo around him, the alarms were going off in the cockpit and he could barely hear anything apart from the howling outside.

"What's happening?" Scott could just make out his father's demand for information over the noise.

"JUST LOST THE ENGINES, GIVE ME A MINUTE!" Scott rebooted as they plummeted downwards, the balloons of the weather station were thankfully adding a bit of drag. "Come on!" he muttered under his breath in frustration, he' done this a couple of times in flight to escape dog fights he was confident he could get her to fire again. He pulled up horizontal from the vertical drop he was in - then Boom! The jets finally spluttered into life before firing on all cylinders. He shot off at speed, the turbulence was a welcome relief as it was a clear signal that he had entered the Tropopause layer which was the lower tier of the atmosphere below the ozone layer. He levelled out; the storm was still bad but manageable in comparison to the conditions he'd just experienced above. "Velocity one to base. Engines rebooted and stabilised. I have the station and will drop them at the coordinates given earlier at ground level. Please call for rescue teams to be on standby. I have no idea of the condition of the pilots I've still not been able to make contact."

"Excellent! Well done Scott. Return to base as soon as you can." His father instructed. To the outside world his dad sounded calm and very much in charge of the situation but Scott could make out the clear relief in the undertone of his voice. Velocity one was battered around as Scott tried to bring in the weather station. It was going to blow off again if he didn't get rid of those buoyancy aids, luckily, he had enough room on the tether to spin around and shoot them down. The station plummeted but the line caught her, Scott just hoped the pilots were still secure; that would have been pretty rough for them but he didn't have a lot of options left. He gently lowered it to the floor and detached the cable. He really wanted to check they were ok but he knew he would be risking the secrecy his father was so desperate to maintain if he did, USAF couldn't be that far away and the emergency services would be here imminently. He had completed his part of the mission; it was time to hand over. As if on cue John called in. "I've spoken to the emergency crews, E.T.A in five."

"Ok thanks John, I'm clearing the area now."

"See you soon."

"F.A.B"

Scott kept reviewing the mission over on the flight home as he often did when flying operationally, it helped to calm his mind after the mission and to prepare him for debrief. Overall, he was satisfied with how it had gone, he had taken a risk climbing up to that level of altitude and had pushed the craft to her limits but it had been worthwhile. He'd got them down and now they had a much clearer idea of just how high One could fly, it turned out that she had stronger capabilities then anything else on the market at present (including military). The first rescue and getting to fly One was quite the thrill; he had loved every minute of it and felt that he had accomplished a lot more than he had done in months. The craft was a thing of beauty and a absolute dream to handle. He and her were going to get on just fine, he patted the controls affectionately. He felt confident now that he was doing the right thing in leaving the air force.

"Velocity One to base. Requesting permission to land."

"Permission granted, welcome home son."

Scott switched to vertical controls, reversing one back down to the island. The pool finished docking just as he descended level with the villa. Plumes of grey smoke rose up as he descended back in to the launch bay. She settled into place before he disengaged the engines. As she started to climb back up to her resting place Scott wound down and completed his interior post flight checks. By the time he had docked, he was out of his chair and getting ready to head outside. He would complete the exterior checks too. Satisfied; he emerged 15 minutes later and headed into the lounge. He was tired but pleased – if also a little apprehensive about hearing if the meteorologists were ok. He was worried they may have suffered altitude poisoning and injuries from the rough flight.

He spun through the wall to cheers and applause. He smiled and took in the sight of his whole family celebrating apart from his father who was still sat looking at the reports on his desk and the TV but he did look up and smile briefly. "How are they? Did they make it?" Scott asked his family once the excitement and the pats on the back had died down.

"There're fine, the media reported that they have a degree of altitude sickness and one of them has a couple of fractures but they are stable. It seems they had emergency oxygen masks on board and were able to use them in time." Alan reported.

Scott breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "You were seen though." Jeff looked at his eldest frowning.

"What! I was clear of there well before the emergency services and military arrived!" He slumped down onto a chair; his grandmother passed him a whisky. His face perked up at the sight and she gave him a wry smile with her back to his father.

"You weren't sighted in the Yukon, you were sighted over the Pacific Ocean." Jeff grumbled; he didn't look pleased.

"Oh Dad! come on! stop overreacting." Gordon looked exasperated. "Scott you were spotted by a couple of people on a cruise in the Pacific Ocean, that's all. They couldn't even describe what they were seeing you were flying so high, no photos or clear description. One guy thought you might be a UFO."

"Well I guess he could be right; she is technically an unidentified flying object; we don't even have a proper name for her yet." Scott nursed the empty tumbler in his hand. Gordon rolled his eyes dramatically.

"A lot of people on social media are speculating it's a new military craft of some kind." Virgil read aloud.

"Someone else thought you were flying a Thunderbird." Alan added. Scott snorted; Jeff chuckled spite of the situation.

"They've obviously never seen a Thunderbird before then. She looks nothing like one." Scott knew veterans that had flown Thunderbirds as did his father, they were a pretty distinctive plane – or so he had thought anyway. Scott relaxed; Gordon was right these sightings were just hearsay. People would speculate for a couple of days then it would fade into oblivion.

"Well Scott, thankfully it seems the sightings were inconclusive and you did manage to save that poor man and women from their fates so all in all, a job well done. Brains has gone down to gather the altitude and flight data as he has a few ideas for some modifications to improve her performance at high altitude now he has some figures to work towards."

Scott wasn't paying attention he was muttering to himself. "Son, did you hear me?"

"Ugh? Erm, yeah sorry I was just thinking we haven't named these crafts of ours yet."

They had all be bandying ideas around all over the festive period everything from velocity to firebirds, tornados but nothing stuck.

"Had another idea?" Alan asked.

"Well I just thought it would be quite amusing to name them Thunderbirds after their first public sighting, we don't want people to know what they really are so we could just name them after an old aircraft model, it would be pretty ironic."

"Thunderbird two" Virgil voiced aloud. "I quite like it actually! it has a nice ring. We could paint the name on the sides in white, name the whole fleet the same so people know they are all part of the same outfit."

"Thunderbird 4's would have to be in black, nice and bold against the yellow."

"You just like to be different." Alan joked amused.

"Too right I do, it would be boring otherwise." He was dressed in a garish leopard print top which kind of illustrated his point. Gordon didn't do blending in. No one raised the fact he may not even be able to pilot the sub. Four would always be Gordons whatever happened, even if he never got to complete rescues. He had been heavily involved in her design after all.

"Well boys, its sounds like you've finally made your minds up. What do you think mother?" He turned to face her in one of the armchairs where she was knitting.

"I think they sound wonderful; thunderbirds is a nice strong name."

"Kyrano?"

"I think they sound splendid indeed, Mr Tracy."

"Well that settles it then. Thunderbirds it is." Jeff smiled. It was all coming together nicely now.