Walk on the Wild Side
By Sapphire
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Chapter 7: Riding the White Horse (Or In This Case, Green)
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The launch preparations went on in a whirl of activity. Scott and Virgil felt a little superfluous, as they had no actual plan what was going on. Sure, they had an idea – there were only so many items one could take care of within the preparation for a mission, but as they didn't know where everything was and where it had to go, they quickly decided to move out of the way and let the others do their job.
No more than a minute after they had left the lounge, a deep rumble that was as much felt as heard indicated the launch of Thunderbird 1. Scott wished he could see her, but just then, Brains took them to the passenger seats for Thunderbird 2 and told them to buckle in.
Two minutes later, the green behemoth started to move. Up ahead, they could see the launch bay doors opening and they rolled out. The palm trees lining the runway for the 'official' air planes of Tracy Island seemed to be impossibly close to the huge transporter, when they suddenly flipped aside like some toy trees and made way for them. When they reached the end of the runway, the world under them tilted away and the nose of Thunderbird 2 was pointing towards the dark sky.
The transporter plane started to quiver and to shake and somewhere behind them the engine growled to life. The noise rose in pitch and suddenly, with a stomach lurching shove, Thunderbird 2 pushed off up into the air.
It was not the fast and furious launch of a fighter jet, but for all that it was more impressive than any launch Scott had ever been in. Power resonated through the frame of Thunderbird 2 as she climbed steadily towards the sky. A rocket launch was probably closer to it in feel. He had to ask John. And if it was, then Scott suddenly understood why John was so addicted to it.
It took a few minutes for the transporter to reach its cruising altitude. As ahead of them the sun began to rise, Brains took off his seat belt and indicated them to follow.
He led them to a small room of the side that contained two bunk beds and several lockers.
"You better ch-ch-ch-change into uniform," he said, opening one of the lockers and handing out two blue uniforms.
Brains himself already had changed, though for the life of him, Scott couldn't remember when the scientist had found the time to do so.
As Scott and Virgil both didn't want to take part on a rescue mission wearing nothing but their boxer shorts and a dressing gown, they both quickly changed. Placing the silly little hat on his head -- that one definitely needed to change if they really managed to create some sort of International Rescue in their universe -- he looked over to Virgil, grinning.
His younger brother, though, looked serious. He had pulled out the gun he had found in the holster that was part of his yellow sash, and now fingered it with an unhappy expression on his face.
After a moment's hesitation, Scott reached over and took it out of Virgil's hand.
"I'm sure we're not going to need those," he said softly.
Virgil allowed for Scott to gently return the gun to its holster. He took a deep breath, then looked up.
"I know," he said softly. "It's just ... it brought back some bad memories." He smiled weakly then adjusted his sash a little. "So, what do you think?" he asked, making a slow turn.
"Fetching I have to say," Scott said, and then repeated Virgil's move. "And I?"
Virgil returned Scott's wide grin. "You're looking mighty spiffy, old chap."
And both dissolved into laughter.
It felt good to hear Virgil laugh.
There was a knock on the door and immediately they grew sober again. Brain entered, holding out two of those wristwatch communicators they had seen before.
"For you," he said, "with those you can co-co-communicate with every one of us."
They put on the communicators, and followed Brains again, as he now headed for the belly of Thunderbird 2.
"You n-n-n-need to know about the equipment, we're probably go-go-go-going to use during the re-re-re-rescue."
They passed through a double door and climbed down a small ladder into the inside of the pod that Thunderbird 2 had taken on before taking off from Tracy Island.
They paid close attention to what Brains was explaining to them. The equipment the scientist showed them was ingeniously designed, easy to operate and looked very sturdy. They had no problems to follow him.
A small tinkle made itself felt in Scott's stomach. They really were on an International Rescue rescue mission. They didn't know what the next couple of hours would bring, but they would do their best to help two people whom they didn't know anything about, only that without the help of International Rescue, they might die.
It felt good. It felt right.
They were in the air for a little over half an hour when their communicators / wristwatches came to life.
"Thunderbird 1 here, I'm approaching the danger zone," Alan's voice could be heard thinly from the small speakers.
"This is not looking good," he continued. "The turbine the two guys are trapped in is leaning against a second tower and the blades of that one are still moving. There's no place I can land close-by, the ground is simply too unstable. I'm heading for the next ridge, but I'm afraid, we'll have to do this from the air."
The two brothers and Brains headed back to the cockpit. Outside of the windows all they could see were a cloud-strewed sky.
Brains pushed a button and a screen appeared in a sidewall.
Scott had to concur with Alan: This didn't look good.
Along a long ridge about 30 modern windmills were placed in a neat double row. Close to the centre, a large hole had opened in the ground and swallowed two or three of the turbines. One turbine had tilted to the side, balancing precariously at the edge of the crater. One of its long blades was spiked into the ground, while the tower itself was leaning against the tower of another turbine. The two remaining blades looked to be only inches away from the blades of the standing turbine, which moved in steady circles in total disregard to the weight leaning against its base.
Scott was frankly amazed that the whole tableau hadn't collapsed by now.
He felt Thunderbird 2 tilting a little and they all scrambled to their seats to buckle up again. The transporter plane quickly lost height, dropping through the cloud cover. Ahead they could see the coast of California.
"Thunderbird 1, here's Thunderbird 2," Gordon spoke into his microphone, sounding more serious than Scott had ever heard him. "Our ETA is in seven minutes. Do you think we can land on the same ridge you're on?"
"That's an affirmative, Thunderbird 2. The ground is stable and there's enough room for you. I think the best approach is to drop the pod of Thunderbird 2 and use her winch to lower somebody down to the two trapped guys.
"Thunderbird 5, do you still have contact with the people trapped?"
"Yes, Thunderbird 1," came John's voice from the speaker. "I've spoken to one of them only a minute ago. The guy who got injured is in a bad way. He's trapped under some heavy machinery and has lost a lot of blood. His buddy is plenty worried about him. You'll need some lifting or cutting equipment to get him out of there."
"All right," said Alan. "We never get any heavy lifting equipment to them. In this case I'd say we use Thunderbird 2's winch to lower Brains and me down to the booth with the laser cutters. We cut the guy out and lift them both up. This will be some tricky flying, Gordon. The speed of those blades on that standing turbine is pretty damn fast and we cannot get too close to them."
Scott was impressed by the calm professionalism Alan displayed. The plan he had come up with might actually work, though he thought there was still some way to improve it.
"Do you have something to stop that other turbine with?" Scott interjected. "It will make the whole thing much easier. John, can't the command centre of that power plant switch them off remotely?"
"That's a negative. They've already tried, but the connections to maybe half of those wind generators have been cut. They have no control over them at the moment. They've sent somebody out, but it will take at least forty-five minutes for him to arrive."
"We could tr-tr-try and shut it off inside," Brain interjected. "Somebody would need to get up that tower and use the brakes on the bl-bl-blades. Though there's the risk that his might destroy the fragile balance there is."
"I think the risk is bigger if we leave them on," Virgil now said. He gestured at the screen. "Those towers are over two hundred and fifty feet tall, one of those blades is a good one hundred feet long. With one full rotation every three seconds the tip of each blade is moving with over a hundred miles per hour. To be out of the way of those blades, we need a line at least one hundred twenty feet long. And holding that line steady with those blades rushing by constantly…"
He didn't need to finish.
"If we go up that other tower, wouldn't it make more sense to cut through its wall?" Gordon now asked. "This way we'd have a more direct access."
But Brains shook his head. "No. If we'd c-c-cut a hole in that tower wall, the integrity of that t-t-turbine would be severely compromised. It will not stand the stress."
"And if we go through the gondola on top of the tower?" Gordon persisted.
"It will t-t-take too long to g-g-get our equipment up there," Brains said.
"All right," Scott said, before anybody else could interject. "I think the best thing is for Brains and maybe Virgil to try to shut that working turbine off. Gordon needs to fly Thunderbird 2, so that leaves me and Alan to rappel down to those men and get them out of there."
For a moment everybody was quite. Scott could sense how the others tried to find a hole in his plan, and part of him almost wished they did. They were the experts, had dozens of rescues under their belts and even though Scott knew that the plan was good, it still contained quite a bit of risk for them.
He wasn't afraid, not really, at least not for himself. He knew that he could do what he needed to do. He felt very awake; every fibre of his body more alive than it had been in a long time.
"Scott's right," Gordon finally said. "I can see no other way."
Scott almost heard the sigh from Alan and John through the airwaves, as they accepted Gordon's decision. They had been told that they were in command, and knowing his brothers, they had looked forward to it. But, as Scott had also known, they accepted that his plan was the best way to act.
They now had a plan; all they needed to do was to execute it.
TBC
AN: You didn't think that Scott (from any world you choose) would just sit back and watch his brother, right?
Tomorrow they will climb giants ...