For Alan, the clue to how seriously Gordon viewed this repair was in his demeanour as they prepared the equipment needed to do it. And the fact that Gordon was currently treating Alan as "equipment".

Alan sighed and rolled his eyes as Gordon made him go over – for the fourth time – the procedure for the underwater welding repair to the pipeline. And if that wasn't enough, he made him go through the safety procedures for the dry-suit Alan was currently wearing instead of his normal uniform, and checking again the filters in the breathing apparatus.

"Are you satisfied now, Scott," Alan asked sarcastically, slightly irritated that his partner-in-crime was channelling their oldest brother instead of his normal laid back attitude.

Gordon blinked and shook his head. "This is serious, Alan," he said. "You've never had to do this sort of underwater welding before. One wrong move and kaboom." A glimpse of his usual humour showed. "And if you think I'm gunna be the one explain to Scott why you got kaboomed, you've got another think coming."

A scowl appeared on his face. "Illegal pipeline. Damn, I hope that Kayo and John can trace who put it there. I wanna have a little chat to them about the damage their under-maintained, dangerous shit is causing."

"I don't think they'll really care about your views on the environment Gords."

"I wasn't planning on talking to them, Alan." Gordon's voice was fierce and once again Alan was reminded that, like their oldest brother, his immediate elder brother had been military, with a background that screamed "don't fuck with me".

"Chill, bro. We have big brothers to show up."

Gordon suddenly grinned his usual cheeky grin. "Damn straight about that one. I intend to be done, back and with time to go into that main street hamburger place for a decent feed." The two brothers high-fived, totally in agreement about their plans. "Let's get going then. I also want to be securely under water before Scott has a chance to impart the words of wisdom he's desperately wanting to."

"Well, at least he doesn't hassle us any more about clean underwear and handkerchiefs," Alan put in as they strapped themselves into Thunderbird Four. Gordon gave a shudder as he re-launched out of the Pod.

"Word of warning then – never, never ever have a sneezing fit where he can hear you."

"Really?"

"On a mission. Dust. I sneezed several times. He asked. Virgil and John just howled with laughter."

"Unfeeling bastards."

"A pox upon older brothers."

"I can hear you, you know," came John's voice and his image flickered into being. "And you should be thankful it's only me. Scott's asked me to tell you to go on open comms."

"Doesn't he trust us?" Alan opened his eyes wide.

"Alan, he knows you."

"Fair call. Doesn't explain why."

John closed his eyes and sighed. "The short answer is – because he's the Commander of International Rescue and that's what he wants."

"And the long answer?" Gordon looked amused. He couldn't tell whether John's expression was for them or Scott.

"Because you know Scott, and if one of his chicks is out of contact with him on a mission for any period of time, he goes batshit insane with worry. Virgil suggested it because he wants to stop a Scott implosion and the only reason he hasn't gagged him is because the media has turned up and we wouldn't look very professional with our Field Commander wearing a ball gag."

"Where was Virgil going to get a ball gag?" Alan was agog. He and Gordon had speculated that Virgil could produce just about anything from Two, but a ball gag was something that hadn't even entered the realms of their airiest speculations.

"I don't know, Alan." John's voice had that exaggerated patience that went back to the years of Alan and Gordon responding to everything their two oldest brothers said with "But why?". "Why don't you ask him."

"I will!"

"Not now you idiots. For all of our sanity, please go on open comms – and remember that you're on open. Also remember – I can see and hear everything anyway."

"Yeah, but you won't give us away."

"Why haven't they gone on open comms yet?"

Virgil grunted and manhandled a section of the Mole into place, swiftly ensuring it was securely fastened. One of the problems with having to squeeze one pod into doing two jobs was the loss of automation. "Dunno," he answered shortly. "But you wanna give me a hand here? Or are you afraid it'll ruin your manicure?"

"What?"

Virgil sighed. That ball gag was looking better and better. "Our job, Scott. Remember – we're not here babysitting the terrible two, we've got to get that crew out."

"I know that. It's just that we've never let Gordon or Alan off the leash on a mission before." The huge blue eyes were darkened with worry and Virgil could swear he could see grey hairs forming.

"Look, even if we can't hear or see them, you know John can. And he'd not let them get into trouble. Besides, Gordon's the best of us for this job. And you or I would have difficulty fitting into Four with him. They're both good on a mission. They'll do what they have to. Plus they'll come on open soon. Even if John has to do an override."

"I still worry." Scott shoved a coupling into place and locked it down. "What if something happens to them?"

"Then we go and fish them out. Though I reckon there's more a chance of them having to fish us out than the other way around. And when it comes to underwater rescues, Gordon is the master."

"Hang on Virgil. I've got that bit if you can hold it steady. So you think we're going to have some problems too." There. He'd voiced it.

"I hope not, and I'm going to keep praying to any deity that listens that we don't. But we're going to be in a world of trouble if we puncture the sea-bed."

"Then let's make sure we don't do that. I wonder what's taking them so long to go open."

"International Rescue calling VDM3 TBM" John paused, waiting for a response and then repeated his call. They had to answer. Had to – otherwise his own systems wouldn't be able to pinpoint their location and he wouldn't be able to guide Virgil and Scott to the closest location in VDM2 to cross over.

A crackle came over his link and John adjusted it carefully. "International Rescue? Is that really you?"

"It is. We've got a team about to come and get you out. I need you to keep this channel open until we've gotten you. I can then keep a check on you, and also use it to pinpoint your location. Can you tell me what's the situation there? One of our pilots has checked the subsidence from the outside and he can't see much showing that there is a lot of water going in."

"There was at first, but it looks like the falls have settled and the water's been steady at about two feet." There was a pause. "Doesn't make it any more pleasant for us though."

"Hang in there. Our team is not far away. Especially now I can pinpoint exactly where you are."

"OK, bring it over here, Alan," Gordon said, "and we'll place it over the fissure."

"That's not as easy as it sounds," Alan said. "I thought it should be easier to move stuff underwater. You know – the less gravity."

"It's called buoyancy, Al. And it is, but not when we're manhandling something like this." He strained and shoved at the large section of metal. "Nearly there…"

A grey figure flashed past, and Alan started, catching a glimpse from the corner of his eye. "Gordon? Are there sharks in the Bass Strait?"

Gordon checked that the metal section would cover all of the fissure. "Yeah," he said absently. "Great whites. Grey nurse. Heaps. Why?"

"I think I saw one."

"Doubt it. Hold this."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't hold it it will fall."

"Not that." Alan held the piece in place. "Sharks. Oh shit! I think I saw it again."

Gordon looked up and laughed. "That's a dolphin you idiot. Now concentrate on what we're doing. The dolphins will keep any sharks away."

"Yeah. You hope," muttered Alan but turned his attention to their work.

"OK – ready to go. Scott, make sure you keep that transport back, but not too far back."

"I know what I'm doing, Virgil. I don't want to be accidentally fried. John…. Have you got the location pinpointed?"

"I have. And I'm transmitting it to you. Brains is also calculating the angles you'll need to tunnel to get from one to the other when you arrive."

"Good," Virgil put in. "Transmit them direct to the Mole's systems when you get them."

"FAB. And good luck."

"Well, at least we won't be worried by sharks," Scott put in, grinning.

"We heard that."

"Good. It means you're still on Open."

"Worry about your own mission, Scott," Gordon said testily. "And leave me to mine. I know what I'm doing here."

"I know you do, Gordon. But you know the rules. When we're separated on a mission, we all keep on Open."

"Yeah. Yeah. Open comms. Got it. Welding here."

"I suppose that made sense," Virgil said.

'In Gordon-speak it did. Let's move out, Virge."

John flipped between his readouts. He had four up at the moment, plus the general monitoring, even though there was nothing else International Rescue could do if another call came in. He frowned and looked closer at a symbol. That was strange.

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Four. Are you reading me."

"Reading, Five. What's up?"

"I've just got a quake reading near you. You feel anything?"

Gordon stopped his work and looked around. The dolphins were still frolicking. His own instruments hadn't showed anything. "No. Nothing here. Could you be picking up some settling of the seabed following the cave ins?"

"That could be it," John conceded. "Just… let me know if you feel anything strange."

"FAB. We should be finished in a few minutes anyway. Hey! What the!"

"Gordon! Gordon? What's happening?"

"Really guys? Like now?"

"Gordon?"

"Sorry John. The dolphin pod wants to play and don't understand I have to finish this first."

John chuckled. "Another pod of fans?"

"Well, dolphins do have a keen sense of intelligence and obviously know quality when they see it. Really, guys. Cut it out. When I'm finished, we'll go topside and I can play with you all you want. John? Go bug Scott and Virgil. Let me get this finished."

"Have fun Gordon. Alan?"

"What?"

"Don't encourage the dolphins."

John was still smiling when he shunted the connection to one side and turned to his other two brothers. "VDM3 TBM Crew, this is International Rescue. Our team is three quarters of the way to your location. Not long now guys. Another half hour or so and you'll be on your way to the surface. How are you going?"

"More than ready to get out of here, mate. A cold beer is starting to sound really good about now."

"I'll arrange to have one ready and waiting at the other end, guys."

"Thanks, mate."

" John?"

"Yes, Brains?"

"I have the information that Scott and Virgil need, but I can't get through to them."

"I know. For some reason there's something interfering with the radios. I can get through OK, but their communications with each other are problematical. I've got the systems investigating."

"I.I'll get something tracking here too. And see what I can work out."

"Thanks Brains. Now that information?"

"Uploading to you now."

"Thanks. Got them and will transmit. Five out."

"Right… Marking access points," Virgil said and projected the lasers on the wall in front of them. "Should only be about 10 minutes to go through."

"I hope so," Scott put in. "I only hope we don't get a nasty surprise partway through. If we can't get through like this, I have no idea how we're going to get those guys out."

"I know. And I don't want to loose any more people from this tunnel."

"I only I'd…."

"Stop it Scott. We didn't win the original tender. There's no if only's about it. At least none that we had control over."

It was only the fact that Scott was wearing his helmet that stopped him habitually running his hand through his hair as he did at times of frustration. "I still feel responsible."

He climbed into the rear of the mole as Virgil slid the canopy shut and fired up the rockets. "You wouldn't be Scott if you didn't," Virgil muttered.

"I heard that," John's voice chuckled in his ear, "and I agree."

The mole slid through the rock like a hot knife through butter, but Virgil didn't rush things. The last thing he wanted to have to do was to start at the other end and make another tunnel back. It would waste time, fuel and mean that they'd made an error on their first trip, putting them all in danger.

The noise was deafening, even through helmets equipped with noise-cancelling technology, and the sudden cessation of it equally defeaning.

"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Two dirty and tired looking men emerged from a transport vehicle, their faces registering relief, even though the words were light.

"I hope you don't mind a slightly squashed trip back?" Virgil asked as he and Scott climbed down.

"I'll ride on the side," Scott said to Virgil. "It'll be a tight fit, but you should both fit in the back," he told the trapped men.

"Mate, you could strap me onto the roof if it would get me out of here."

Scott grinned suddenly. "Sorry – that's my seat. Do you need a hand up? We've got some water at the other end. And I believe that John has organised a couple of cold beers for you back at base."

"You little ripper! Let's get out of here. I'm not so fond of this place that I'd like to make it my home."