Taptap ... is anybody out there reading this? Just would like to know.

Walk on the Wild Side

By Sapphire

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Chapter 4: Sight-Seeing, International Rescue Style

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After dinner, Alan and Gordon offered them the grand tour of the island and Scott happily agreed, dragging Virgil along. He didn't want Virgil to be alone right now and he hoped that the tour would distract him.

In the short time he had been here the last time and had been aware that he had in fact stepped into another dimension, there had been no time to really look around. He had seen only one of the labs at the side of a huge hangar, when Brains had discovered that his Wiebrecht Resonance Constant, or however the scientific term of the thing was, indicated that he belonged to another dimension. But the hangar had been mostly empty, Thunderbird 2, the transport plane International Rescue used to get their equipment to any place in the world, had been out on a mission at that time.

Scott also burned to take a closer look at Thunderbird 1. He had seen her only for a few seconds when she had taken off for the rescue and then another couple of moments when she had returned. He had memories of a sleek silver rocket plane that fairly emanated speed and power.

His wish was granted when the tour started in Thunderbird 1's hangar. While Alan recited the technical specs on the rocket plane, Scott was captured again by the sheer beauty of her. His fingers itched at the thought of flying her. If he noticed the knowing grin on Virgil's face, he choose to ignore it. Of course, he was well aware that there was actually no chance of ever being in the pilot seat of International Rescue's flagship while the bird was in the air. But a man could have dreams, couldn't he?

He was a little disappointed when they moved on after only a few minutes. He had hoped he would get a chance the see the cockpit.

However, when they got into the next hanger, every thought of Thunderbird 1 was momentarily driven from his mind. In a space that barely seemed large enough to contain it, a huge, red rocket filled the room floor to ceiling.

For a while he just could stand there, his mouth hanging open, while Alan looked on, a little smile on his face.

"Wow!" Virgil finally said.

Scott agreed.

"She's … big," Scott remarked, not exactly very clever.

"How the heck did you get something like that built here? This is incredible."

"It wasn't easy," Alan answered Virgil's questions, pride evident in his voice. "We have about eighty different suppliers, everyone for a different part of the rocket. Everything is shipped to various Tracy Industries sub-siderites then sent here and we assemble her on side. The toughest bits are the engines – it's not like you can buy something like that in a supermarket."

He pointed to a room adjoining the hangar. Scott could see through the open doors a rocket engine in a later stage of assembly.

"We need to replace one of the engines later this month. Thunderbird 3 got damaged on a rescue a couple of weeks back, and at the moment we have only eighty percent power on the number 2 thrusters."

Turning back to the rocket, Scott saw deep scratches and burn marks on one side of the huge space ship. He wondered how those had happened.

On some level, Scott had been aware that being part of International Rescue wasn't exactly risk free. But seeing the damage to the great space rocket, he suddenly realized that every time when his counterpart in this dimension or one of his brothers went out on a rescue, they risked life and limb to help people who didn't even know who they were. Even their incredible machines couldn't protect them all the time. If something could happen to Thunderbird 3, which had to be the most powerful piece of machinery that he'd ever seen, what else could happen?

And still, Alan and Gordon and Scott and Virgil and probably even John went out every time there was a call with a smile on their faces and no regard to what could happen to them.

"How did that happen?" he asked, though he suddenly wasn't so sure he wanted to know the answer.

Alan took a look at the ugly wounds on what he obviously regarded as 'his' Thunderbird and grimaced.

"Some people just don't know when we try to help them," he said with a shrug. "We were just lucky that the automated defence system of that lunar station was such a bad shot. They apologized later, but by then the paint job was already ruined."

Even though Alan tried to make light of the situation, it was obvious that whatever had happened, it had been a close call.

For a moment nobody said a word while they all looked at Thunderbird 3. Scott reflected that his 'little' brother here wasn't that little anymore.

"Okay, let's move on. Gordon wants to show off his baby," Alan broke the reverie.

He ushered them up to the monorail system a couple of flights up and they entered a car waiting for them. It was a sign on how impressed Scott had been by Thunderbird 3 that he barely spared a thought on the fact that they had a real monorail running through all the caves.

Gordon had skipped Thunderbird 3's hangar. They found him again in the hangar of the next machine, Thunderbird 2, waving at them from the opening of a green coloured container.

However, the two visitors barely noticed him as their eyes were drawn to the immense transport plane that pretty much dominated the room.

"A big, green, flying hippo," Virgil muttered under his breath.

Scott looked across to his younger brother. An incredulous look was on Virgil's face, combined with a small smile.

"What?"

Virgil gave a short laugh. "You, well, actually the other you, he told me at one point about International Rescue, and he said that I was flying a big, green, flying hippo. One that is pregnant."

He paused, studying the great machine closer.

"He's not totally wrong," he then added grinning at his brother.

Scott had to agree. He had no idea how something so cumbersome looking was able to get into the air, especially when loaded with one of those containers. And still, there was some sense of elegance even in the bulky lines of Thunderbird 2, some feeling of hidden power and strength. The colour however …

They went down a flight of metal stairs. Even though the transport plane wasn't as big as the space rocket in the other hangar, she was still pretty damn huge. The door to the container pod, which obviously was made to fit into the empty space in Thunderbird 2's belly, was more than fifteen feet high. Inside something yellow flashed.

"May I introduce you to Thunderbird 4," Gordon welcomed them, gesturing at the small yellow submarine.

Compared to all the other Thunderbirds, Thunderbird 4 was deceptively small. But from everything that Scott had seen today, he had the very strong feeling, that that little submarine was more than adequate for any task laid out for her.

"How deep does she go?" he asked, sensing that Gordon expected some kind of remark or question.

Instantly, the ginger-haired Tracy begun proudly to iterate the multiple features his Thunderbird possessed, while showing the two brothers the interior of the craft.

Even though Scott was impressed with the data and the ship, only half of his attention was on Gordon and what he was saying.

The other half had begun to think about the sheer logistics required to run a venture like International Rescue. It was obvious that it had taken years and years to build up the organisation, an immense amount of money and a dedication from each of the Tracys in this world that bordered on obsession. How they had been able to hide this from the rest of the world was a question that he dearly would like to have an answer to.

He decided he would need to have a talk with Jeff. There had to be more to International Rescue then what he was seeing here on the island.

TBC