Hello, hello! Yet another chapter and I hope you're all still enjoying it. Bit of a filler chapter here, but I hope you like it nonetheless and we'll get back to the action soon!

baao xo

Chapter 8:

Out of all of the five Tracy sons, Gordon was definitely not the most patient. He had never understood how John and Virgil, and to some extent, their father, could sit and wait around instead of taking direct action. His complete inability to stay still was more than prominent now - he needed to be doing something that was more than just watching monitors. John's ability to remain calm and get on with the task at hand was astounding to Gordon, whilst he tapped his fingers on the desk, or occasionally stood up and paced in frustration in his lack of ability to do anything.

Contrary to Gordon's thoughts, John was as equally frustrated as his younger brother, but years of training up on Thunderbird Five had taught him to remain composed and focussed during events in which he couldn't physically participate. It was difficult to not do something when so close to the action, but John couldn't help but sympathise with his less-local brothers - Alan was just as used to being stuck thousands of miles away as John was when operating Five, but Virgil was rarely not involved in a rescue, and for him to be stuck in New York when all of this was happening must be killing him. Feeling a mixture of irritation and pity as Gordon leant back in his chair again rise in his chest, John turned to his younger brother:

"How are you holding up, kiddo?" he asked, sympathetically.

Gordon sighed, "Bored, frustrated, scared - what do you think?"

Ignoring the sharp tone in his brother's reply, John still remained silent, his eyes flicking back to the controls in front of him for a brief second before Gordon continued.

"I'm sorry, John, I'm just not used to this feeling - how can you do it for months at a time up in Five? This is unbearable!"

"You get used to it, I suppose." answered John with a shrug, "In a way, being so far away from everyone makes it all a little bit easier because you know there's nothing you can do. The worst thing is being kept out of the loop of it all - that's why I hope Dad and Alan are keeping Virgil updated. He must be going out of his mind by now."

Gordon didn't reply, but the tensing in his jaw gave away how he was feeling. Turning fully to face him, John spoke once more:

"Look, I know you're worried about Scott but he'll be alright - it's Scott for God's sake! I've never met anyone with as much luck as him! Remember when he crashed One in the desert that time? And all he had was a headache for a couple of days! I mean, he might have broken the occasional bone, but come on, he's practically untouchable!"

Gordon swallowed, and fiddled with a loose thread on his suit, his restlessness betraying his young age.

"Can you promise he'll be alright, John?" Gordon asked, so quietly John almost didn't hear him.

Running his hands through his hair, John sighed.

"You know I can't promise that, Gords, but we'll do our best, right?

Briefly nodding, Gordon settled back down to the computers before him. He was rubbish with technology, and he wasn't even sure if he could make the cameras work again and half of him knew John was well aware of this, but he appreciated his brother's effort to make him feel like he was helping in some way. Typing in yet another numerical sequence that would hopefully reactivate some of the security tapes, Gordon couldn't help but think this was going to be a long night.

Virgil could only be thankful that Jeff had insisted that Alan kept their middle brother completely up-to-date with the situation in Minnesota. Virgil was still sat in the same café, in the same seat, with the same, though now cold, coffee. It was very odd for him not to be hands-on in a rescue, and Virgil found that he didn't know what to do with himself. Alan had recently ended the connection between them, promising to let him know of any changes concerning Scott, and Virgil knew that their father would be far too stressed to be dealing with him demanding answers to questions that none of them had.

A flurry of movement skimmed along the edge of his vision, and startled Virgil out of his thoughts. Turning, he stared as crowds of people had started to gather around the huge televised board that stood over Times Square. Curiosity got the better of him, and Virgil rose to his feet and stepped outside, only to be nearly knocked down by more people rushing towards the centre of the square as soon as he'd stepped out the door.

Following the crowd, Virgil found himself staring up at the huge board. Instead of advertising products, like it usually did, or even streaming a sports event across New York's centre, the screen was black, flickering as if a bad signal was trying to get through. Frowning, he squinted up at the screen trying to determine what was going on. Listening the people around him, no one else seemed to know what was happening either, and IR training made Virgil feel concerned that this was clearly not the norm. Raising his wrist discreetly to his mouth, Virgil was about to put in a call to base and let his father know of the strange circumstance now happening in New York when the screen suddenly burst into life, and nothing could've prepared Virgil for what came onto the television. Any thoughts of contacting base were forgotten as Virgil stared in horror with everyone else at the image that burned into his eyes like fire - this couldn't be real!

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