Scott ran a worried hand through his hair and tried to push Thunderbird 1 to even faster speeds. "Fuck in a handbasket, John. I… Oh crap. Right… Tell them my ETA is 10 minutes. Faster if I can. Can you find a schematic of the tunnel – where those guys are trapped?"

"On it. I've had their GPS signal relayed to me and I've found them. And I've got an idea about the pipeline."

"I'll take anything at this stage."

"We'll need to ask Colonel Casey for help with it though."

"Do it. And get an ETA on Thunderbird Two. I want everything to be ready to go as soon as they arrive"

"Scott, Virgil knows what he's doing."

"I know John. But… dammit. They've lost a crew already. We have to get those two men out!"

"We will. It's what we do. Here's Virgil on the line…. Go ahead Thunderbird Two."

"Our ETA at site is 30 minutes. I'm pushing her as fast as I can, John."

'I understand Virgil. I'll let Scott know. He should be landing about now. Keep in contact Thunderbird Two. I need to contact Colonel Casey to help with the pipeline."

"That the situation Colonel," John finished. "We have the equipment to fix it, but not the manpower – not with the tunnel collapse as well."

"I understand, John. The problem is, I don't have the manpower in the area either, and it would take at least 10 hours to get a WASP crew there. However, I may be able to help you in another way. Why haven't they just shut off the pipeline flow?"

"It's a dual pipeline, Brains says. If we shut off the flow, it will cause pressure to build up in the other part of the pipeline and cause a double explosion. We'd need to shut off both valves at the input end. Which raises another problem. We don't know which end that is. The pipeline has been in place a long time, and on both ends it's buried underground and continues underground. Nobody seems quite sure where it comes out. In Tasmania, there doesn't seem to be an outlet that anybody can locate for sure, and in Victoria, there are about ten different places that they can pinpoint, without looking even deeper. It's a complete mess."

"That's where I may be able to help you. I know that there was a survey done of undersea gas pipelines by the military. Let me search and see what I can find for you."

"We'd appreciate that. Thunderbird Five out."

Scott was frowning as he looked at the map projected in front of him. "This is totally different to what information we have."

"Yes. We update it every couple of hours. The TBM's are constantly having to make corrections due to the rock formations they encounter, and because we are always updating it, it's not worth uploading it."

"Which means that we've been scanning for your people in the wrong area completely." Scott's tone was testy – he hated wasting time. "It needs to be uploaded now – so that our systems can match."

"But the file… it will take an hour to do!"

Scott's head jerked up as he heard an engine. "Thunderbird 2…. Thunderbirds Two from Thunderbird One."

"Thunderbird Two here."

"I need Gordon at control. We have a problem that is going to affect him."

"FAB Thunderbird One. He's on his way."

"Thunderbird Five – do you copy?"

"Yes. I heard your conversation. Is there a way to put the updated map on a drive that we can insert into Thunderbird Four? I can't access this system as it's not networked anywhere."

Scott looked at the Engineer he was talking to as Gordon ran into the room. "What's the problem?"

"The maps online haven't been updated – we've been looking at an inaccurate path. John's suggested that we save a copy to a drive and manually load it into Four. What do you think?"

"It'll work. I've got a removable drive in Four that we can use."

"Good," put in John. "Once you have it in Four, I can access it and integrate it into the schemas we already have. It'll take about fifteen minutes to do though."

Gordon was already sprinting out of the room. "John, did Colonel Casey send you the information she told me she had?"

"Yes. I'm running an analysis of it now. It's really old code though, and it's not cracking easily. I'm doing my best."

"All I can ask, Thunderbird Five. Keep trying."

"Here," Gordon panted holding out a slim drive. "Use this. I can start it loading into Four and can get going while John plays with it." He plugged it into the computer and the holomap vanished as the file as copied.

"Hurry up…." Scott muttered.

"Rick? You still with me?" Bob looked over to where his mate sat on the other side of the transport. They daren't get out – water was flowing into their small section of tunnel.

"Yeah, mate. I'm here. Shall we try the radio again?"

"Can't hurt. VD3 TMB to base. Come in Base." Static and then a small burst of clear sound.

"TBM VD3! We hear …."

"Dammit. I wish I knew what was causing that."

"Probably the collapse. The repeater's probably been washed away – damaged at best. But at least they know we're alive."

"But for how long, mate. For how long?"