The facility was not the sophisticated structure he had expected, but Gordon figured it didn't have to look high tech to be useful. They were studying the ocean, not creating a luxury hotel.
"Alright, I'm at the research station," his voice broke through the silence around him. "I'm gonna try docking and head inside."
"FAB, Thunderbird 4," Virgil replied from his position above.
Gordon found the hatch easily enough, along with a window that showed a small group of scientists eagerly awaiting his arrival. He gave them a cheery wave before activating the docking tube and heading inside.
He had watched a few of the rescues completed by the brothers since coming to the island and so much of this one seemed to fit the mold. Meet the scientists, reassure the scientists, get them into a safer section of the facility and go fix the problem. Except the problem was one of the main generators and it had a noticeable crack developing through one of the slow moving turbines. Because of this, the facility was running on an insufficient backup that would cause the structure to shiver with the fluctuating power.
"I'm in the generator room," Gordon spoke into the icon on his belt. "Can you guys see this?"
"FAB," Virgil answered first.
"I've got Brains following along here," Penelope added and the scientist appeared next to her, obviously distracted by whatever was coming through the feed.
"Anything hands-on I can do?" Most of the structure was foreign to him, but he understood something needed to be replaced if they wanted to at least leave the base functional.
"Not unless you've got a new rotor handy. They'll need to haul out that generator and put in a new one if they can. That'll take months at the least," the comment from Virgil didn't bode well, but the scientists would be safe.
"There m-might be a chance, though," Brains cut in. "Gordon, in order to repair that turbine, you would n-need to transfer the damage to another generator, if Lady Penelope were to w-wish it, correct?"
"On the nose, got a spare I can mess up?" He grinned, already knowing the answer.
"Not a spare, per-say, but a decommissioned o-one." The bespectacled man's smile met his own.
"Alright, then let's do this! M'lady?" Amber turned to meet her hologram.
"I wish for that generator to be fixed and the damage to go to the decommissioned one," simple as that, he gave her a wink and snapped his fingers. A creak of metal bending back into place and the crack sealed back together. Seconds later, the machine cranked, rotor spinning with the current and the facility seemed to sing out their praise.
"Good job, Gordo," Virgil's own praise shot through the comm, followed by a chuckle. "Now, how are we going to explain this to the researchers?"
"Oh, I've got this," Gordon waved him off. "Years of experience here. I can spin this, easy. People don't always want the specifics when they're happy."
"Then I guess we'll trust you to handle it," the engineer's words sparked more in the genie's core than expected. "Just let me know when you're ready for pickup."
"FAB!" And he was alone again, off to ease the fears of the facility's inhabitants. They had initially been shocked to hear that everything had been fixed and they were cleared to go back to their jobs. On further questioning, Gordon had given the smoothest smile he could muster.
"We're International rescue. Some of our tech is so advanced, it's more like magic. But really, I was just able to reposition the rotor and seal the crack. Nothing spectacular."
Most of the group had taken the explanation and thanked him with tears in their eyes. It made sense since some of the work done in the facility had taken a lifetime to collect. One man, though, was watching him with interest. He didn't offer questions or argue that what Gordon had told them was impossible. There was always one, the genie surmised and promptly avoided any further contact.
Not long after receiving a multitude of hugs, he was back in Thunderbird 4 and headed for the surface when the next emergency presented itself.
"Thunderbird 4, We're detecting a foreign object on your hull!" John this time, sounding alarmed.
The warning was too late, however, as an explosion tour through the sub's underbelly, sending shrapnel and sparks through the genie before water rushed in. Gordon's shock was more aimed at the damage done to Thunderbird 4 - his 'bird - and he growled, ready to release his anger through the ocean around him, but was stopped by his limitations. Instead, a dull thump of something attaching to the roof drew his attention back to their situation.
Within seconds, the sub came free of the sea and sunlight took the place of the water as it rushed out. Penelope filled his vision next.
"Gordon! What happened? Are you alright?" Her panic, though touching, was unnecessary.
"I'm okay," he spat, pulling a shard of metal from where it had embedded into his thigh and tossed it aside. "Thunderbird 4's been hit pretty hard."
"Just hold tight," Virgil tried to speak calmly, but it was evident he'd been shaken by the incident. What if it hadn't been Gordon who had responded? "I'm going to collect the module and pull you the rest of the way up."
Thunderbird 4 was left to float on top of the swaying waves as the raven-haired man worked to retrieve the pod. Gordon stayed put, trembling with a rage that remained trapped within his flesh. He didn't even notice the sub lifting until the light faded and he was in the artificial glow of Thunderbird 2's halogens.
And then, the seat was shifting awkwardly against the damage, one of the shards ripping free from his gut. Virgil appeared, looking distraught as he tried to assess the genie's physical health.
"You okay?" The engineer asked, moving aside as Gordon pulled himself free. Dark brown eyes grew wide as he took in what would have killed a human. "Holy sh-"
"Virgil, I'm fine," there was anger dripping from his words. "Just - do we know who did this?" Another chunk of the sub fell as Gordon pulled a sheet of yellow metal from his side.
"J-John?" Virgil halted the genie's progress by pulling something - a bar - from his head with shaking hands.
Gordon took a breath, quickly realizing how his friend must be feeling with the sight of multiple impalements. His hand found the engineer's and gave it a gentle squeeze, catching the worried brown eyes. "I'm okay, really."
John cut through any reply the man could've had, "I've contacted the GDF. It doesn't appear that anyone has left the facility and EOS is monitoring outside communications. I'm sure the colonel will want to question everyone."
That didn't sound as good as he had hoped. There were going to be some holes in this story - how had he survived the blast, for one. Virgil was already coming to the same conclusion with a quick glance to the marred innards of Thunderbird 4 and back to the shrapnel protruding from the genie.
"What do we say?" Virgil asked, as they turned to John, both still dealing with senses too heightened by anger and adrenaline.
Green eyes regarded him as he pulled another shard from his forearm. "The diagnostics from Thunderbird 4 can easily be deemed irreparable. They won't have a way to review the explosion."
"You can, though?" Virgil asked, voicing Gordon's desire to know why someone had tried to kill a member of International rescue.
The astronaut nodded, hands flying over unseen panels. "Gordon, you were in the rear of Thunderbird 4 storing gear while she was on autopilot for pickup. You'll still need to show some form of injury, but at least they won't think you survived something that would've killed - anyone else."
"Concussion act, got it," Gordon gave a thumbs up, ignoring the implication. "Just focus on getting whoever did this."
"FAB," and there was a dark promise to not only Gordon, but the family who was very aware of what couldn't have happened.
Penelope took the red-head's place, still looking concerned and he tried his best to flash her a reassuring smile as Virgil went to work getting the infirmary situated. "Hey, sorry about the suit." It felt lame, but it was all he could say in the face of her worry.
"The suit can be fixed, Gordon," but the comment had encouraged a hint of a smile. "How are you feeling?"
His lips thinned to hold back the outburst that wanted to be free, but he needed to stay calm. A breath seeped past his lips before he found the words.
"Angry, mostly." And as if the emotions couldn't stay pent up anymore, "It was my first run! Who does something like this? It could've been Virgil down there! Or Alan!"
Her hand came up to stave off the assault as it quickly grew louder, "I know, but it's very fortunate it wasn't."
"Who would've done this, Pen?" There was so much about his mistress that was still unknown, whether by habit or lack of trust, Gordon hadn't been in the need-to-know.
She sighed, resigned to the fact that she needed to tell him. "If it were simply an attack on me, the list would be endless, but - there are only a handful of people who would attack International rescue."
Scott appeared next to her, his face grim as he caught what they were discussing. "Gordon, right now there's no proof, but our family has been dealing with a man called the Hood. He's held a grudge against us and our father for years. I just - he's never tried anything like this before."
"Is there anything I can do?" Because he really wanted to do something if this man was involved.
"Just stay there. John's working on finding more info." The commander ordered, but Gordon could almost see the cogs moving.
"Alright," he wanted to argue, but this was all new to him. He would follow their rules.
Penelope offered a sympathetic smile, "Who'll figure this out, promise."
A nod and the commlink cut off.
And there was Virgil, his duties in the infirmary complete, but the paleness in his face showed some of the effect the incident was still having. Of all the brothers, Gordon had spent the most time with Virgil, learning not only about Thunderbird 4, but about the family. They were close - closer than any family he'd been acquainted with and they cared about their friends just as much. It was clear that the engineer needed some reassurance. And a distraction wouldn't hurt.
"Where ya need me," Gordon's arms lifted as though he were ready to be picked up and placed.
It had the desired effect as Virgil's shoulders squared with the need for action. They had a job to do and time was quickly running out as John reported the GDF ships would be arriving in the minute. He led the genie to a bed set into the wall, a pillow and blanket ready for his own comfort.
"What, no mint?" Gordon teased lightly, earning a weary smile from the engineer.
"I could warm up some towels," came with a pat to his back before that same hand took his shoulder and pushed him to the bed. "Just lay here and look like you've got the worst headache in the world."
"What's a headache?" The grin was not to be deterred through the ribbing.
"Where did I put that mirror?" Virgil didn't miss a beat, the stress in his shoulders visibly reducing with their banter. It was easy for the two of them and the engineer seemed to recognize its benefits early on during their training sessions. It only took on a sharper edge when the man was exhausted. Right now, he was just dealing with a whole boatload of fear.
"Har har, careful, Virg. I might volunteer you for some standup comedy." He grinned as he settled his head onto the pillow.
"Pretty sure we'd have to be a duo. Who else am I supposed to make fun of?" The blanket was draped over him before the lights were dimmed to help his "concussion".
"A genie and an engineer walk into a bar," a laugh from said engineer.
"Oh, please no," Virgil shook his head. "Whatever it is, it'll be lame."
That didn't stop him, "the host says 'table for two' and the engineer says 'you better make it three, just to be safe'."
Dark brown eyes just glared at him.
"Two antennas got married - the wedding was lousy, but the reception was outstanding." Gordon's smile grew as he caught the twitch of Virgil's lips and quickly pointed as though the man had been caught. A large hand simply gripped his hand and shoved it back under the cover, but there was no hiding the amusement.
"Do me a favor and limit your verbal comments to grunts and groans." It was enough of a sign of appreciation as they could handle right now and Virgil left with less apprehension.
A couple hours later and they were on their way back to the island. The culprit had been identified, but only through his bogus credentials. The GDF had facial recognition, as did John, and they discovered he had been a freelance mercenary. He'd managed to find some way to escape their sensors and leave potentially well before Thunderbird 4 had been hit. Gordon had one very simple way of bringing the man down, but it involved too many risks at the moment. Given a few days, they would have a more solid plan than just poofing him into the Tracys living room for a good, old fashioned beatdown. Not that anyone would have allowed that. It just seemed to make the genie feel better.
Now, he, Virgil and Brains were staring up at the damage done to the submersible.
"She'll need her entire underside r-replace," Brains lamented. "It will take a few days just to get the p-parts fabricated."
"Would you be able to get them for us faster?" Virgil queried to the blonde.
"Hm, technically you have all the materials to make the parts?" He looked between them both, receiving nods in answer. "Then yes, I can."
The men's eyes lit up with the implication and were already reaching for the comm when John's hologram beat them to it.
"Guys," his tone was clipped. "We have another situation."