They couldn't just do nothing, so the Tracy brothers went about their lives. Twelve months their father had been missing, and they all felt it as much as they had the day it happened.
But they were finding some things easier – Scott had stopped asking himself "what would Father do" each time he had to make a decision regarding either International Rescue or in concert with his brothers for Tracy Industries.
He was understandably proud of some of their decisions. Several new projects had been initiated that, whilst smaller than they normally handled, had given extremely valuable results and had not only made a lot of money for Tracy Industries, but had also assisted emergency services organisations to more efficiently do their work.
He knew that his Father would have been very proud of that.
He was also deeply satisfied that their revised structure for International Rescue was working as well as it did. His brothers and he had slipped into their roles so easily because they were all playing to their strengths.
Scott flipped through the mission reports, making a note of things that went wrong, or that needed tightening, gratified that these had become less and less in the last six months.
Yeah – another thing Dad would have been proud of. International Rescue was going from strength to strength. Their reputation was stronger than it ever had been, and they were being asked – and paid! – to consult in a number of safety matters in large international projects.
He called up another document and sat back. It was his own personal project. International Rescue developing rescue training courses. Unfortunately, it wasn't something the five of them could do alone. Regretfully he put it in the "future plans" folder.
Maybe... maybe after Father was found, it was something that they could look further into.
His eyes strayed to a picture on the desk. His parents on their wedding day. Scott found himself looking at that picture every time he used his father's desk. They were both younger than he could ever remember them looking, but in every essence, they were the parents that he knew and loved deeply. And missed every day.
He considered himself lucky that he could remember his mother as well as he did, she was still very sharp in his own memory, unlike Alan who had no memory of her other than one of absolute love.
But then, that absolute love was what defined Mom.
His eyes then moved to the other picture, of the six Tracy men in International Rescue uniform. Brains had taken it for them and you could see the pride shining out of Father, his greying hair being the only indication that he was their father, and not the same generation as the other five.
Yes, he may not have worn his International Rescue uniform every day, but he did have one, and wore it when he had to be Colonel Tracy, Commander of International Rescue in public. All of his communications with the various Governments of Earth were in that Uniform, and Scott made sure that he continued the tradition. It had taken him a while to understand, but it had finally been brought home when he had tried to deal with a Government wearing his own clothes. Not even calling on all his "command tone" from his days as Major Tracy had helped in that situation, and he had been forced to rely on the influence of Lady Penelope and their other influential friends to get what was needed done.
He had, he reflected, finally grown up again. When he had come to work with Father in International Rescue, like his brothers, he had reverted to his childhood almost, allowing Father to take control.
And now, he felt like his own man again. Or rather, an adult. He also knew that his brothers felt the same – even Alan who was being dragged kicking and screaming into adulthood.
His reflections were interrupted by Virgil, Gordon and Alan entering the room. "Well, we're about as prepared as we can be for when that thing blows," Virgil said solemnly. "What's the situation?"
"Still nothing. We may have gotten lucky for once," Scott said, and Alan snorted.
"Yeah. Right. Fingers crossed on that one," he said flopping onto a couch.
"It's been 48 hours. We may just be lucky," Gordon said. "Usually damage is done well before that."
The beeping of an incoming communication sounded and all four grimaced. "Base here, Thunderbird 5. Go ahead."
"Suit up guys. The call just came in. That pipeline has just exploded – and in a big way. The team on the ground think that there was debris that punctured it, but then got stuck and the pressure just built up until… kaboom."
"John? You look a little… dishevelled." Gordon looked at him through narrowed eyes.
"I was in the shower when the call came in."
"And Kayo was?"
"Handling it until I got there. What do you think? Why are you still there?"
Scott stood up. "We're on our way, John. Let them know our ETA." He looked at his brothers. "Thunderbirds are go!"
Deep under the Bass Strait, the operator of the tunnel boring machine (TBM) looked around as the sound of rumbling came over the noise of the equipment, and the area around him shook. "Not good," he muttered. "Far too much of that happening. OI! Bob!" he called back to his mate a few meters behind. "Has anybody reported back to Base about these sheakes?"
"Yeah, mate. Reported it a few hours back. They said there is a problem with a pipeline but it's a few k's away and shouldn't affect us."
"Better bloody not! Still – might be worth reporting each time we feel one. Cover our own arses at least if it makes us slow down."
"No problems. I'll log them all."
"Good-oh!" He turned back to his bank of monitors, making minute adjustments according to the type of rock they were hitting. Tunnel VD3 was proceeding as planned. Slightly above and to the right of VD2 and VD1, it would provide access from the Australian mainland to Tasmania. VD2 and VD1 were slightly behind it as they had hit some trickier rock, but no matter. They were all well ahead of schedule.
Suddenly he looked up again as a drop of water fell on his screen. And another. And a third. "What the…" His eyes raised to the ceiling and he saw drops become a slow trickle. "Bob… mate… I think Base should have listened to you about the tremors."
Bob hurried forward and looked up as well. "Oh shit, mate… Shut that thing down Rick!"
Rick moved swiftly to shut down the TBM and slid out from behind his console. "Time to get out, ya reckon?"
"Yeah. That crack…. Rick, let's run, not walk."
"Last one to the transport and out buys the beers."
A sprint bought them to the transport that Bob had been driving and they dived in, Bob working to swiftly turn it whilst Rick grabbed the radio. "VD3 TBM to Base! Come in Base!"
"Base here"
"Base, we've got a huge problem. There's a large crack forming in the ceiling in our location – letting in seawater." He picked up a camera and aimed it at the crack, tightening the focus. "We're coming out. I think we need to check it all out before we go further."
"Logged. I'll alert the finishing crew behind you to leave as well."
"Good idea Base."
The transport began to trundle along the track it had laid behind itself, picking up speed when a long, low, threatening rumble sounded. Lights in the tunnel flickered and died as the roof caved in behind them with a sudden woosh, water trickling in through the tightly packed rocks. "Base! Base this is VD3 TBM…. We've had a roof collapse behind us! The TBM is buried!"
"Have you got water?"
"Not in with us yet… But I reckon that it won't be long until the entire tunnel is flooded. Everybody needs to get out – and I reckon get them out of the other tunnels as well."
'Roger that, VD3 TBM. Get out as fast as you can."
"Believe me, Base, if we could go faster we would! Bob! Now's the time to be a leadfoot, mate!"
"Bloody oath, Mate!"
Both men suddenly hit the ground of the transport as the roof before them caved in,
"Base," yelled Rick, "The tunnel! It's collapsing completely! We're trapped!"
"Is your GPS working? Can you send up your location?"
Bob flicked a switch. "Still working, Rick. I'm sending them a ping."
"Ya hear that, Base? We were heading for the main transport to get out, but we didn't get anywhere near it…. Oh god… Base…. The main transport…."
"We're trying to raise them now, Rick. But… I don't think…."
"We're fucked."
"Intenational Rescue is on its way to deal with the pipeline problem – it's blown. We'll contact them. They'll be able to help you! Hang in there!"
"Yeah, but what about the poor buggers in the finishing crew?"
"Calling International Rescue… This is the Van Diemen Tunnel project calling International Rescue!"
John's eyes narrowed as he heard the call. Their worst nightmare scenario in this little drama was being played out it would seem. "This is International Rescue."
"Thank god… The Van Diemen tunnel! Tunnel VD3 is collapsing! We've…" The caller paused and John could hear the sudden gulp of breath. "We've lost a team when the roof collapsed between the TBM and the finishing crew."
"Trapped?"
"No… they're gone. The finishing crew… all of them..." The man's voice had a sob in it, and John opened his mouth to say the words that he had hoped he never would have to say.
"I'm sorry. In that case, there's nothing we can do for them."
"Not them… but the TBM crew! They're trapped behind the collapse – between it and the TBM!"
"How many?" Platitudes could wait. This was something that they could help with.
"Two."
"Do you have contact with them?"
"Yes, though I don't know for how long for. I don't know if there is water or not."
"We're on our way. Keep this line open for communications." John closed his eyes, sending a quick prayer to his mother for help, and quickly switched a call to his Brothers. "Thunderbird 5 to Base! Is anybody still there?"
"Virgil here – we're just about to board. What's wrong?"
"Thank god! We've got a situation!"
"Another one?"
"Same one – but bigger." John quickly outlined the situation. Gordon's picture popped up. "Tell Scott we're going to be delayed in getting there. I may need some specialist equipment for this – we didn't count on people."
"Hurry Gordon!"
Gordon shuddered as he thought of the crew that had been lost. "Guaranteed to, John. It's a hell of a way to die."