Note: I updated this chapter on the 26-Feb – just slight grammar edits for clarity, but no major plot changes, so there is no need to re-read it if you've already done so.

Feedback more than welcome!

Chapter 2

Back at base, Gordon strode from Thunderbird 2 without a backward glance, leaving Virgil to do the post-flight checks alone. Heading to the showers in the main Tracy villa, Gordon managed to avoid running into anyone. The hot water did not improve his mood.

Towelling his hair he went to his bedroom. He put on his jeans and an old but clean t-shirt and one of his favourite loafers. He looked around for its mate but couldn't see it. He had just started scrounging under his bed for it, when he heard a sound at the door.

Still on all fours, he looked up. Scott stood in the doorway. He was still in his blue uniform and it was clear he hadn't even so much as grabbed a coffee since his return, at least an hour before. Knowing Scott's dedication Gordon presumed he'd headed down to Thunderbird 2's hangar to help Virgil with the post-flight checks and, finding Gordon not there, was now here to give him a lecture.

This thought made Gordon frown.

'Hey,' Scott said flatly.

Scott was clearly waiting for him to say something but the last thing Gordon wanted was to 'have a talk' with Scott about the details of a crappy mission.

Scott took a step into the room, his face softening into a look of real concern which irritated Gordon even more.

'You ok?' he asked quietly.

'Yes,' Gordon snapped, not bothering to hide his hostility, and turned back to continue the search for his lost shoe.

'What happened today?' Scott asked ignoring Gordon's tone.

Gordon shrugged but then realised Scott wouldn't have seen it since he was partially wedged under his bed. He didn't care, so he said nothing.

'Come on Gordon,' said Scott in exasperation. 'Something's up. You were all over the place. You weren't on the mike enough, you weren't concentrating…'

'Hey, it was a successful mission!' Gordon snapped as he pulled the shoe from its dark hiding spot. He got up and plonked himself on his bed, jamming the recalcitrant shoe forcibly on his foot.

'Yes, it was a success,' Scott said in a tone that sounded like he was struggling to be reasonable, 'but that doesn't mean things couldn't have been better. We're just lucky things went well in those conditions. Virgil says…'

'I'm not really interested in what Virgil has to say,' Gordon hissed.

Scott opened his mouth to say something just as Alan poked his head around the door.

'Hey, guys!' Alan said, practically jumping in the room. Having been left back at base this mission, he was clueless about the tension between his older brothers.

Alan paused when neither responded to him, since picking up emotional cues from people was not his forte even at the best of times. Then he remembered he had a message.

'Dad wants to debrief now in the lounge if you're up to it. He says to get it out of the way since it's getting late.'

'Tell him we'll be right there,' Scott said authoritatively, looking at Gordon as he crossed his arms.

Alan, surprised at Scott's tone, glanced in his direction, then at Gordon expectantly. Gordon ignored him by towelling his hair more vigorously than was necessary, his jaw set.

Finally sensing something serious was up, Alan backed out of the room quietly as if he'd mistakenly wandered into a lair of sleeping lions.

When they were alone again, Scott continued.

'This is no good, Gordon…'

Gordon got up, threw the towel carelessly across the room, and sauntered past Scott out of the room, frowning the entire time.

He found Alan, who'd just sat down on a sofa at the coffee table, their usual place for the debriefs. Gordon slide into one of the two free-standing leather chairs. Alan looked about to say something but thought the better of it as Virgil entered the room and came over to sit on the sofa opposite Alan. Both Gordon and Virgil ignored each other.

Gordon shifted his posture to what he thought would make him look casual and carefree. He had to stop himself grinding his teeth as they waited.

Alan, lost for something to say, began kicking a leg of the coffee table nervously.

Scott and Jeff came in together. Their father was looking at a sheaf of paper in his hand, frowning, which wasn't an unusual look for him when he was concentrating. Jeff sat on the sofa next to Virgil so that he was within arm's length of Gordon. Scott sat in the other chair directly opposite Gordon, but didn't look at him across the coffee table.

Jeff put down his notes on the table. Everyone waited for him to speak. The silence stretched. Alan, suddenly realising his father was glowering at him, froze his foot mid-kick and tried to look as if he had not been kicking the coffee table leg, and had no intention of ever doing so again in his lifetime.

'Right,' said Jeff. 'Scott, report.'

Gordon had always considered his father's formal way of debriefing unnecessary and pedantic, but Jeff had repeated often enough that it was important to demarcate 'formal' work time from 'informal' family time. Keeps things clean and compartmentalised, Jeff said in his commanding voice, and so far no-one had dared to argue.

Scott, as team leader, began his report by outlining the arrival at the rescue scene, the assessment of the situation and conditions, the events of the rescue, the role of the local authorities, and the general wash up after the rescue. His tone was even, and he reported only the vital facts.

At the end, he paused for a beat and then added that the weather had been bad and there had been delays due to communication problems.

'Communication problems? What communication problems?' their father asked, alert as ever to even the slightest hint of a problem.

No-one volunteered an answer. Alan looked at Scott, then Virgil, then Gordon, but all three studiously ignored him. Alan slumped slightly on the sofa and started taking a great interest in the wood grain of the table.

Gordon, who was looking past Scott out through the glass doors to the darkened balcony beyond, caught the glance Scott threw his way. Jeff didn't miss the look, and snapped his head around to look at Gordon. Knowing he couldn't pretend not to see his father's gaze, Gordon turned to look at his face.

'What communication problems?' Jeff repeated.

Gordon resisted the urge to squirm. Why had Scott mentioned it when they'd already discussed it and the mission had been a success?

'It was hard,' Gordon mumbled.

'Hard?' said Jeff incredulously.

Gordon nodded.

Gordon could see, just beyond his father, Virgil staring fixedly at the wall opposite him.

Jeff narrowed his eyes slightly.

'What about the three civilians who got concussion during the retrieval?' Jeff asked.

Gordon blinked. He hadn't heard about this. He looked at the paper on the coffee table, and saw it was one of the standard print-outs from Thunderbird 5 that summarised what John could get from the authorities after each rescue mission. Gordon couldn't make out the details and he didn't dare pick it up in case this annoyed his father.

Gordon shrugged. 'Tricky currents…'

'Tricky currents!' said Jeff, his voice harsh.

Gordon nodded once.

'Are you telling me,' his father growled, 'that the best underwater craft in the world, able to withstand anything the sea can throw at it, with supposively the best pilot in the world, couldn't cope with 'tricky currents'?'

Gordon breathed out silently trying to keep a lid on his growing anger. He turned his gaze back to his father just in time to see a not uncommon expression cross Jeff's face that, if spoken out loud, would have said I'm not happy with this situation and I'm particularly not happy with you, sonny.

Gordon said nothing and kept his father's gaze. Jeff didn't flinch and waited. Gordon, suddenly feeling deflated, looked away, hating himself for giving up.

'Anything else?' said Jeff at last in a low voice, eyes still locked on Gordon.

Gordon, not sure if his father was now talking to him or asking Scott for any additional information, said, 'No, everything went fine, given the conditions.'

'Right,' said Jeff decisively. 'Obviously we need some more practice going over procedures. Scott, I want to talk to you.'

Jeff rose and strode off, Scott following him.

Gordon, surprised that his father had terminated the meeting so suddenly, but still resentful that he was the focus of negative questioning, got up and left without a backward glance at either Virgil or Alan.