As always, Thunderbird One arrived first on the scene. Virgil listened in as his brother defended their right to attend the emergency. John had looped in all their comms, including the Island so they all knew exactly what was happening.
Scott was polite, but firm.
"Colonel, we have the equipment and there are a thousand lives at stake. Can we at least put aside the political situation and save these people." Barrett, the brand new commander of World Rescue was apparently the one in charge.
"Tracy, we have the situation in hand. You are barred from interfering."
"Colonel, Thunderbird Two is inbound. She has the equipment to support the platform. At least let her assist!"
"We don't need your assistance. Go home to your fancy little island."
There was silence from Scott as Two approached and shifted to a hover beside her sister. Gordon was muttering under his breath. They were fortunate comms were set to only one way.
Virgil eyed the platform, raking it with Two's sensors.
A flick of a switch. "Thunderbird One, be advised that the structural support of the runway is failing." Several red exclamation icons flashed up on Virgil's display. "It's not going to last much longer."
"Acknowledged, Thunderbird Two." The frustration in his brother's voice bent airwaves.
Another GDF flyer swooped in from the other side the platform. Virgil's eyes bugged out as he realised that this flyer, too, was going to attempt to land on the remains of the runway. Hadn't they learnt from the first one?
He knew how much one of those craft weighed. He knew how fragile the structure was. His hand slammed down on comms. "GDF Flight Zero-Seven-Tango, abort landing! ABORT!"
Wheels touched down.
"NO!"
The runway crumpled. The flyer tipped as the structure failed, its engines in the wrong position for an effective lift.
Virgil didn't hesitate. He fired Two's rear thrusters and swooped in over the falling plane. Grapples were fired to the sound of yelling over comms and Two's VTOL howled as she took the weight of the flyer.
-o-o-o-
"I'm not going to be able to hold her long. Zero-Seven-Tango, right your VTOL and engage lift."
The pilot didn't respond, but the flyer's thrusters rotated into position and fired.
Virgil edged Two out of the huge craft's new flight path as he disengaged grapple support. The GDF craft hovered up between the platform and Thunderbird Two.
Not a word was said.
It paused as if to stare at the Thunderbird before rising above it and taking up a position out of the immediate danger zone.
It sat there watching.
Virgil frowned at his instruments, but he didn't have time to worry about whatever the hell they were doing. The collapse of the last portion of the runway had destabilised the platform further. Its angle was skewed even more towards the 'fall out of the sky' ultimatum it was threatening.
Scott was yelling at someone.
Virgil tuned out the argument about their rights to save people and set about saving those people instead.
"Deploying airjacks."
Two's belly hatch opened and six of the hover devices flew out. Essentially emergency hoverjets, the airjacks were designed to attach to aircraft, or in this case, air platform and replace failing VTOL or other jets to keep a vehicle in the sky long enough for an evac.
If there was ever a situation in need of them, this was it.
Virgil directed each jack to a structurally safe point to lift. Unfortunately, they were only a temporary solution and there was a time limit, but hopefully it would be enough.
The whole platform groaned as the jacks took the overbalanced weight and held the craft in place. It was still listing, but it wasn't going to tilt any further for some time.
"Colonel Barrett, quite frankly I don't care for your opinion. Twice now your actions have endangered lives further. International Rescue has the tools and the experience to save these people. For the love of god, get over yourself."
Barrett's response was colourful, but at least it was distracted enough for Thunderbird Two to assist without interference.
Virgil eyed his display. "Thunderbird Five, how goes the escape pod situation?"
"Promising. Eos is rewriting code to work around damaged networks. We will need someone on site to connect crucial systems."
"FAB. We need to save the pilots of the two crashed planes first. Gordon and I will handle that. Let us know when you need that extra helping hand." A pause. "And call the GDF and ask them to send in a few of their people carriers, just in case." Why they weren't already here was a mystery in itself.
"FAB."
Scott wasn't swearing, but his frustration was melting Virgil's comms.
Time was a major factor here.
"Gordon, you've got the crippled flyer. I'll grab the pilot from the first plane."
His brother slipped out of his seat as Virgil shifted Two into position above the two disabled craft.
Virgil donned his exosuit. There was no doubt he was going to need it. The first plane was a crumpled mess.
Gordon lowered himself through Two's front hatch while Virgil exited the same way as the jacks had earlier. Both had folded basket stretchers dangling beside them.
Virgil forced himself to focus despite the vitriol flying across comms. Barrett had apparently been supplanted by Wainwright herself. The woman's screech of a voice grated on his nerves.
If only the world could hear the crap they were having to put up with just to do the right thing.
He was almost to the wreck when he caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye. He frowned as a holocam zipped into a hover beside him.
What the hell?
And then he realised that of the thousand people they were attempting to save, no doubt there would be a large party of press.
Here to document the launch of 'World Rescue'.
Now looking for the next best thing - any and all dirt on International Rescue.
Virgil glared at the camera a moment before turning back to doing what he was here to do.
He ignored the annoyance and didn't even really notice when it was joined by friends.
The plane that had caused this mess had slammed into the runway at an angle. It was one hell of a screwed-up landing and Virgil had never seen the like. The cockpit had been almost completely sheared off, its safety capsule wrapping around the safety rail. It was this simple crumpling of metal that had saved the pilot when the plane's fuel source had exploded, taking out the platform's hoverjet below.
It was also the reason why the capsule hadn't fallen with all the extra damage the GDF had managed to do. It was hooked to the railing and hanging there like a mangled pendulum.
Virgil interfaced with Two's systems and lowered a magnetic grapple to secure the craft before boarding.
"Virg, I've got the two pilots from the flyer. One is uninjured, but the other has a bleeder. Securing in the medbay."
"FAB, Gordon." Virgil pried open the remains of the safety capsule with the combination of a claw and his laser. Unconscious and bloodied, the pilot was still strapped into her seat. A quick scan revealed a broken arm, head injury and multiple contusions. Remarkably little damage considering the mess made of her plane.
A holocam buzzed into his peripheral vision again. What?
A frustrated claw swiped the camera out of the air. A kick jammed it in a corner, lens to the fuselage.
Virgil busied himself manoeuvring the pilot into a basket stretcher.
"Pilot secured. Returning to Thunderbird Two."
He emerged from the damaged capsule into a flock of holocams.
What the hell?!
"Thunderbird Five, can we kill the publicity please."
"FAB."
The flock suddenly backed off to a more reasonable distance, but they didn't go away. As Virgil drew himself and his rescuee up into the belly of Two, the swarm followed at a respectable distance.
"John, why are they still following me?"
"The world wants the truth, Virgil. Let's give it to them."
"So they can warp it again?"
"We'll see."
At that tone, Virgil immediately grew suspicious. "What are you planning, Johnny?"
His brother's voice was all innocence. "I'm just doing what needs to be done." And the predictable grump. "And don't call me Johnny."
Virgil grunted across comms as he was swallowed by his 'bird.
-o-o-o-
Scott gave up his verbal battle at some point, choosing to ignore Wainwright and her blathering. No doubt there would be hell to pay later, but there were more important things to attend to.
Thunderbird One joined her sister hovering above the platform.
Virgil and Gordon secured their rescuees in Two's medbay, Virgil helping Gordon cap the bleeder and stabilise the GDF captain he'd saved.
Returning to the cockpit revealed little had changed. The airjacks were still supporting the platform. It was secure for the moment.
"Where are those people carriers?" The sky was empty of the needed rescue relief.
It was Scott who answered. "Wainwright killed the order."
"What?! You're kidding me?! There's a thousand people down there. We don't have capacity to evac that many!"
"I know that, Virgil."
Of course, his brother did.
"Thunderbird Five, any word on those escape capsules?"
"Eos reports she is almost done, but we will need one of you on the platform to reconfigure the safety overrides and do some rewiring."
Virgil didn't hesitate. "FAB. Send me details."
Virgil's wrist beeped almost immediately and a touch of his fingertips brought up the location of the connectors he would have to jimmy.
"Thunderbird Two, we have a problem." Scott's voice could only be described as exasperated.
Virgil stared at his sensor read outs. People were running out onto the remains of the landing strip, waving their arms and shouting up at the hovering Thunderbirds.
"Shit. The structure isn't safe. We need those people back in their capsules.
Scott didn't quite sigh. "I'm on it. Gordon, you're with me."
"FAB." His aquanaut brother bounced out of his seat and slammed his helmet back on.
Virgil slipped Two into position and his brother rappelled the distance down to the platform. "Watch your step down there, Gordon."
"I've got it, Virg. Stop sprouting grey hairs."
Virgil grunted a reply before moving Two into position above the massive stadium at the end of the landing strip. The platform was one of a handful. Virgil had the privilege of watching an airshow from one of these a couple of years ago. While Scott oggled the planes and rattled off specs, Virgil had been more interested in the structure itself and its simple yet complex design.
Each member of the audience was assigned to a pod. These pods were stacked up on each other not unlike cabins in a cruise liner. The difference was that the pods could, in an emergency, separate from each other, acting as escape capsules. Each pod had its own hoverjets and the stadium would simply disassemble.
In this case, that would require the people to actually be in their pods in the first place. As Virgil lowered himself down to the control panel at the top of the structure, the crowd below on the tarmac increased as Scott and Gordon strode to meet with it.
"Thunderbird Five, give me loudspeaker on comms." Scott's voice was firm.
"FAB."
Out of the corner of his eye as Virgil unlatched the control hatch, he could see Scott holding up his hands as a swarm of holocams hovered above him.
"This is International Rescue. Please stay calm and return to your designated pods. This area is unsafe."
"I'm with the World Security Council." Virgil blinked at the strange voice. John had linked in his brothers' receivers? "That is Thunderbird Two, is it not? Why haven't we been taken aboard."
"Sir, we do not have capacity to rescue everyone using the Thunderbirds. We are in process of engaging the platform's emergency protocols. Please return to your pod so you can be evacuated safely."
Virgil pulled up the schematic John had sent him and located the circuitry that had to be rewired.
"Didn't you hear me? I'm with the World Security Council."
Virgil could almost hear his brother's mental sigh. There was always one.
"Sir, please return to your pod."
"I demand you let us board."
"Jeremiah, will you please shut your mouth?"
Blink. That sounded like...
"Hugh Creighton-Ward. My apologies, Commander. Some members of the Council have become anxious." That anxiety spluttered loudly in the background.
"Understandable. However, for everyone's safety we need you all to return to your capsules. We will be evacuating you soon."
Penelope's father raised his voice to the point Virgil could almost hear it without the comms. "Everyone, can I have your attention please. International Rescue will be evacuating us as soon as possible. Please return to your pods and await instructions."
The uproar at that was able to be heard without comms. A glance down at the tarmac and Virgil saw most of the crowd moving back towards the pods, but there was a core bunch still hovering around Gordon and Scott. Several claiming their right to be evacuated via Thunderbird immediately.
"If you do not return to your pods, you may miss an opportunity to be evacuated, sir!" Scott's 'sir' was firm and aggravated.
The protest continued, Hugh's strident voice arguing in favour of obeying IR's requests. Jeremiah didn't like that very much and continued to argue. Virgil swore under his breath as he jimmied the last of the wires. Eos acknowledged over comms when the connections slid into place. She tested the circuits and Virgil switched over full control to Thunderbird Five.
"How can we trust you after New York?" It was a woman's voice and Virgil froze.
"Ma'am, I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter." Scott's tone was professional but bore a touch of sadness that clenched Virgil's heart.
But further thought was suddenly distracted. "Sir, you can't go over there! It's not safe!" Gordon's voice was sharp over the general grumble.
Virgil stood up and far below he saw the aquanaut chasing a man running towards the broken edge of the runway. What the hell was he doing?
"I need a Thunderbird!"
Alarmed, Virgil grabbed his connection with Two and started the retrieval process, the cable pulling against his harness and drawing him up towards her forward hatch.
Gordon yelled. "No, sir! Don't!"
The man suddenly disappeared, the fragile section of tarmac crumpling beneath his feet and throwing him into a free fall towards the vast ocean so far below.
And with zero hesitation, Gordon jumped after him.
-o-o-o-