Please be advised that this chapter and the next one become quite graphic in places
In Too Deep – Chapter Six
"Go ahead, Thunderbird Five," Gordon lifted his watch and waited for his brother's image to materialize. Sure enough, within a few seconds John appeared.
"How's it going, Gordy? Have you left Dublin yet?" John didn't waste any time and cut straight to the chase. He tried to ignore the way Gordon's hair fluttered in the background and the harsh wind that caused the speakers to crackle.
"Ah," Gordon sighed. "Not exactly, no, we've run into a problem or two," he admitted, glancing at John he could see his brother was awaiting for an expansion of that comment and didn't give him the change to ask. "We've got the K40 but there's a problem with it; one of the fuel tanks has a leak so we're down to using just the one."
John frowned hard. This wasn't what he wanted to hear, "Is it still airworthy?"
"Yeah, it's flyable." Gordon nodded. "Alan said the way the tanks are positioned it shouldn't affect the weight distribution too much," he added.
"Will it delay you from getting to Wales?" John asked, already trying to anticipate the problems they could face. He already dreaded telling their father and Scott. Neither would take the news well.
"Well," Gordon shrugged and moved into a sheltered space. The crackle from the wind consequently dropped. "We don't have a problem getting to Wales, the problem is that the hostage takers insisted it had a full tank of fuel. We were planning on topping the fuel up in Cardiff but even if we get to Wales with the one remaining tank full, the gauge will only read half."
"Because of the damaged fuel tank," John nodded in understanding.
"Yep," Gordon sighed. "We don't have time to fix it so Alan's rigging the fuel gauge now, then we're going to head over to Wales via Cardiff." He told John their new and improved plan.
"Well that's a good idea," John frowned, "but what about when the fuel starts running low. We don't want to cause another disaster by having them run out of fuel ten thousand feet in the air." He studied the expression on Gordon's face and the small grin that accompanied it before adding, "Not that they don't deserve it and don't get me wrong, I'd love for that to happen too. But we could be responsible for a major accident."
"Yeah, we figured that much so Al's fixing it so as when the fuel starts getting low, the gauge will kick in and the low fuel alarm will still work." Gordon replied, his expression told John that he doubted the hostage takers deserved the warning. He could see John was about to enquire as to just how Alan would know what to do to perform such an adjustment, so he continued quickly. "Don't ask me how. If I told you, I'd have to kill you," his smirk faded as he realised the reminders associated with those words at this particular time. "Let's just say Scott running out of gas on the way back from Virgil's graduation was no accident."
John smirked in admiration. His younger brothers never ceased to amaze him when it came to improvisation. He supposed being the youngest and the two pranksters of the family, they'd had to make certain modifications to things in the past, in the name of survival. "We'll talk about how much you're going to pay for my silence later," John informed him with a sly grin.
Appreciating the manoeuvre with a shake of the head and a wider grin, Gordon ignored his brother's bartering, "Speaking of which, have you heard anything from Virgil? How's he holding up?"
John's smirk suddenly dropped. "Yeah," he began to shuffle, feeling awkward. He adopted an emotionless stare, as he looked his younger brother in the eye. "Actually, there's something you should know…"
XxxxX
From where he sat at his control panel, Scott had long begun to doze as the time difference and his lack of sleep caught up with him. After talking to John and checking on the progress of the article, there wasn't much else he could do but wait. And if there was one thing he hated, it was waiting. He was forced to allow his mind to consider theories he didn't want to entertain and began envisaging just what Virgil was going through after all he'd heard. Following a great deal of anxious thought, the exhaustion had finally beat him and he'd drifted off to a light sleep. His rest wasn't peaceful but it enabled him to recoup vital energy, even if it was only brief. He was awoken by a shaking sensation and the sound of constant beeping.
Blinking his eyes open, he sat up from where he was using his arm as a pillow. He glanced at his watch prior to running both hands over his face in an effort to appear awake. Reaching forward to answer the radio with one hand, he combed his free fingers through his hair and said, "Go ahead, Base."
"Scott, Son," Jeff's image appeared on the screen and Scott concluded his father hadn't even made the same lax effort he had to appear respectable. It was a scene unfamiliar to most. Jeff Tracy was, at all times, precise, prepared and presentable. "How's it going?" Jeff asked, not at all perturbed by his own appearance.
Scott shrugged and held back a yawn, "Parker's ready to fit the tracker. We're just waiting for Gordon and Alan, they've been…"
"Delayed." Jeff finished the sentence for him. "I know, they told me. But they also told me they'd be there by seven, your time," he frowned.
Scott nodded. "Yeah, their last ETA was seven fifteen, they should be here any minute. How's Brains getting on with the article?" he asked. "I sent it about an hour ago."
Jeff conversed for a while off screen, "He's nearly finished. I'll send it through to you as soon as it's done." He paused, "Any news on Virgil?" he asked restlessly.
Scott offered a sad shake of his head. "Not yet, John's still trying to monitor the watch signal but it doesn't seem to be working. I think they've destroyed it," he theorised. "Either that or it's too far away from them to pick up any sound."
"Let's hope for the latter," Jeff mumbled and hoped destroying the watch wasn't a preamble for them damaging anything else. Especially when he knew what would be next on the list. "Okay, what about Dr. Hunt and Cook, where are they?"
"Well," Scott replied. "They're both still in the tent. I was planning to ship them out later, but I want them here until the article's been okayed. They might need to make changes and we'll need them here for that. Besides, I don't think Ned's planning on going anywhere," Scott smirked but saw his father's eyebrow rise at the first name term. His instincts told him without doubt that his father didn't approve.
"Hmm," Jeff was unhappy with the plan. "Okay, Son, I'll have Brains send over the finished article in a few minutes. Then I suggest you contact the Mole, and send it through. The quicker they get out of there the better." He nodded to himself, "John said you were trying to get through to warn them about the recycler, did you manage it?"
"No," Scott resisted the urge to stretch. "No one was answering the radio." He hadn't wanted to tell his father that for fear of the assumptions he knew he'd make. The same assumptions he'd made; Virgil was unable to answer the radio. Scott looked up to the darkened sky at the sound of aircraft jets above him, "I think this is Gordon and Alan, I can hear a jet." He glanced at his watch, "It's ten past seven."
"Is there enough space there for Alan to land?" Jeff asked, already aware that space in the clearing was tight. Especially with the Thunderbirds already there.
Scott didn't allow his father's question to distract him and concentrated on Alan's voice as he came over the radio requesting clearance for landing. His gaze followed the three evenly spaced lights on either wing in the semi-darkness. He watched as the plane swung round in an arc and then levelled off. "Alan's more than capable," he finally replied to his father. "There," Scott nodded as he watched the landing, "he's down. We've got to get to work, Dad, I'll keep you informed."
"FAB, Son, make sure you do." Jeff closed the link, now it was his turn to sit back and wait. With Brains concentrating on the article and Tin-tin still not returned, the silence was unfamiliar. He looked down at the paperwork on his desk and cast it to one side. Silently, he followed a long accustomed tradition and reached for a Scotch to calm his nerves.
XxxxX
The plane wasn't even stationary before Scott was jumping aboard and heading for the cockpit. He was unsurprised to find both his younger brothers already beginning post flight checks, "You two okay?" he asked.
Both Gordon and Alan turned to him and their expressions gave away their thoughts, the nods in reply seemed hollow after that.
"Flying in this thing is like taking a step back in time," Gordon growled. He stretched in the cramped confines of the cockpit, "I feel like a very big shark, forced into a very small shipwreck." Scott and Alan exchanged a frown as Gordon reached both hands up and removed the earphones he wore, "And believe me this thing is like a shipwreck with a couple of wheels and a pair of wings. In fact, I've seen shipwrecks that are more intact…" he trailed off when he realised both his brothers were staring at him. "What?"
Alan raised an eyebrow, "A very big shark inside a very small shipwreck?" he shook his head at Gordon's attempts at expressing himself. Unsurprised that Gordon had likened his discomfort to something to do with the ocean, Alan thought the idea through, "That's not a very good simile Gords," he frowned.
Gordon stood and rolled his neck to work the kinks out; several cracks later he shook his head, "Simile? Remind me which one that is again. English was never my strong suit." Alan didn't see but Scott turned to his aquanaut brother and saw him gesture outside.
"You okay doing this, Al?" Scott asked, sticking his head into the cockpit and gesturing to the clipboard his brother held as he carried out the necessary post flight checks. Receiving an affirmative nod of the head, he followed Gordon through the main cargo bay and out onto the ground. "What's wrong?" he enquired immediately.
"Nothing," Gordon shook his head. "Man, you're really on edge aren't you?" Scott scowled at the comment and Gordon moved on, not wanting to upset his brother. "I just can't stand it in there," he shrugged. "Heard anything from Virgil yet?"
Scott shook his head, "No, not since…"
"We know," Gordon spared him the distress of saying the words. "John called when we were in Ireland."
Scott nodded in understanding, "I've tried to get through to warn them about the air recycler but there was no answer." He tried to appear confident. If nothing else, Gordon and Alan's bantering had reassured him that things would improve now. Their presence was enough to lighten his spirits and change his perspective. He knew though, that his brothers needed him to lead them now, in a way he didn't think he'd ever led them before. They were relying on him, not only for orders but also for some much needed, silent support.
"Maybe they were asleep," Gordon put forward despite the fact that he knew it was unlikely.
"Yeah," Scott swallowed the explanation but only because he didn't want to think about a more plausible theory. "Maybe you're right." Scott swiped a hand over his face, "You'd better go and get changed." Scott gestured to Gordon's civilian clothes, "Penelope and Parker slept in Two so I suggest you get in there before she uses all the hot water."
Gordon nodded and grinned, "You coming too?" he asked, as subtle as ever. "You look like you could use a quick shower yourself."
Scott smirked and shook his head. "Thanks, Gords," he muttered, sarcasm evident in his tone of voice.
"Would you rather I lied?" Gordon asked as he began walking towards the mammoth green transporter. "Okay," he sung in a cheery pitch, "You don't look like you slept the night in Kyrano's herb garden, you haven't got dark smudges under your eyes and you smell divine." He sniffed for the air and smiled widely for effect.
Scott raised an eyebrow, "That's some serious sarcasm there, Buddy." His brother's humorous banter was rubbing off on him. He could only assume that was a good thing.
Gordon grinned once more and laughed good-naturedly. It was all he could do to mask the insecurities he felt inside.
XxxxX
Alan glanced at his watch and hopped slightly from foot to foot. Nervous wasn't exactly a comprehensive description of his feelings. Somewhere along the way there was fear, anxiety, trepidation, dread, terror, and he'd even go as far as to add panic to that list. He couldn't help himself. He'd succumbed to it, unable to keep up the façade that Scott and Gordon were maintaining. In a way, he was envious of his brothers' close control of their emotions but in another way, it just worried him further. He remembered his father once telling him: to overcome your fear is courageous but to ignore it is foolish. He knew they were scared and that they were ignoring it.
"Will you please cut that out?" Gordon's voice whispered in his ear. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder steadying the swaying movement.
"Sorry," Alan replied, feeling a little guilty. He turned his attention back to Scott, who was sat at the mobile control console alongside them.
"Okay," Scott's gaze remained on the screen in front of him. "Thanks, Brains, I'll send it through now." He turned to his younger brothers, "The article's finished. Gordon, can you get Ned Cook over here for me, please?"
"FAB," Gordon gave a sharp nod and disappeared as Scott brought the article up on the screen and began reading it. Alan peered over his shoulder, impatient to read about Dr Hunt's exploits.
"Ah, there you are, Scott," Penelope approached looking as radiant as ever, despite the lack of sleep. Scott was always amazed at her grace in these kinds of situations. She looked like she'd spent the night in a five star hotel, not an uncomfortable metal bunk. "Hello, Alan, how are you?" she studied the youngest Tracy son for a while, awaiting a reply.
"Fine thanks, Lady Penelope." Alan was distracted by the article in front of him and kept his attention there.
"What have you there?" Penelope asked, moving to stand over Scott's other shoulder. Scott felt slightly annoyed at the pair of them but knew they were as apprehensive as he was to read the results and swallowed back a sarcastic retort. She scanned the screen, "Gosh, it's very long."
"Yeah well," Scott sighed and met her gaze for a few seconds. "There's a lot to say. You won't believe half the stuff this guy's been up to, all in the name of science." His angry scoff added to the sentiment, "This is exactly the kind of advances in technology we don't want! Brains'll be having a fit," Scott exclaimed with an irate shake of the head. He calmed his irritation and took a deep breath, "Have you got an update for us, Penelope?"
"Oh, yes," Penelope nodded. "Parker has fitted the device inside one of the interior panels in the cockpit and we've tested it three times. It shouldn't be detected there. Even if these rogues do check, it just appears to be wiring underneath the controls," she paused in thought but there was a contented smile gracing her features. It appeared she was satisfied with the arrangements. "Do you think they will verify the aircraft is clear before they take it?" she asked.
"No," Scott told her. "They've got no reason to distrust us. As far as they're aware we've complied with everything else they've asked for and who doesn't trust International Rescue?" He hoped his words were true. "Besides, by the time they get to the jet, they'll have released Virgil. I don't give a damn what happens after that." All he could think about, all he could concentrate on, was getting his brother back. He was trusting Penelope to deal with the perpetrators but only because he knew Virgil would need his support when they surfaced. If it hadn't been for that fact, he would have been the first one to extract retribution.
"Quite," Penelope nodded in agreement. Sensing his depth of feeling, she changed the subject away from such negative thoughts. "What an ingenious idea it was to track the aircraft from the ground," she commented. "FAB1 will be operating below the radar and we've already established that John will also be tracking the craft."
"You talked to John?" Scott asked, wrenching his neck to look up at her. She'd thought at the time that John wasn't himself but had put it down to the ghastly situation they were in. Scott's reaction made her wonder if there was more to John's uncharacteristic withdrawal.
"Yes, just a few moments ago," Penelope replied. "He seemed a little…" she struggled for the right word, "subdued." Watching Scott's response, she realised that there was a tale to be told and she frowned, inviting Scott to explain. Scott glanced at Alan, who was still reading the article, and shook his head answering Penelope's curiosity without saying a word. "I suppose we all are at present," she covered with the ease of practice. "I did ask him to pass on my congratulations to Brains." Penelope moved the conversation on again, understanding that Scott didn't want to worry his younger brother further. "Those St. Christophers work like a charm. And with the optional addition of a microphone, they're every top secret agents must-have accessory." She smiled but it was lost on Scott and though she understood why, she felt a little disappointed that she hadn't managed to raise morale. "Right, Parker and I will take our positions. I trust you will be keeping us apprised of the situation, Scott?"
"Yeah, Penelope, I will," Scott replied in the affirmative. "I'm going to send this through to them in a minute and then I'll let you know what the plan is." He told her, managing a brief smile.
"Very well, Scott, we shall be awaiting your orders," she placed a hand on his back in a gesture of unquestionable support. "Here's hoping everything goes to plan," she added.
"Yeah," Scott agreed as he watched her walk towards Thunderbird Two and her concealed car. "Here's hoping," he muttered.
XxxxX
The air was getting heavier but still Jake and Billy snored on the bench seats. Under Virgil's instruction, Luke had found the oxygen canisters in the storage cupboard. Used to enable the operators to breath on occasions where they would have to deal with smoke filled areas, the canisters required several quick checks to ensure they were functioning. Virgil had talked Luke through the required inspections and, with a few adaptations to some of the masks, they now had four functioning sets of breathing apparatus.
Wriggling about, Virgil grunted as a wave of pain shot across his chest. The position in which he was laid was making it difficult for him to keep the circulation flowing to his left arm. When he woke, he'd been laid on his left side and his left arm was completely numb. Rolling to his right meant putting all his weight on his bound wrists but rolling onto his front, caused his chest and neck to ache. He'd given up trying to find a comfortable position and settled for attempting to keep the blood flowing to his arms.
"Are you alright?" Luke leant forward as Virgil screwed his face up against the pain.
"My arm's numb again and I can hardly feel my hands," Virgil told him, trying to move. "It feels like an elephant is sat on my chest." He looked up hopefully and opened his mouth to ask, but Luke already knew what was coming.
"Don't ask me," he said before Virgil had the chance to speak. "You know I can't untie you, you've already tried something once. I can't risk it," he glanced up to the two red seats. Virgil wondered if it was the fact that he may try to overthrow them, or the fact that the other two might find out, that was risky.
"Okay," he conceded. "Can you help me sit up then?" he pushed, caution racing through every muscle, "Please?"
Luke glanced once more across to his two sleeping comrades and then moved forward, aiding Virgil into a sitting position against the opposite console. Virgil's torso swayed a little as he lost the concept of balance, Luke's hand steadied him and he tried hard not to pull away from the touch. "Are you alright?" Luke frowned.
Virgil nodded, breathless for a few seconds. The effort it had taken to move had exhausted him. He deliberated for a few moments on how much of it was caused by the depleting oxygen and how much from his damaged body. "Yeah," he managed to respond. "I'm alright, just a bit light-headed that's all." Luke seemed sceptical but sat back, watching his prisoner's every move. Virgil took a few minutes to get his breath back before meeting Luke's raised eyebrow. He snorted a laugh at his youngest captor's expression.
"You remind me of one of my brothers," Virgil smiled a wistful grin. He wanted, more than that, he needed the conversation to continue; it was keeping him sane. He found himself remembering the way his brother, John, would raise an eyebrow in a similar manner and then smile, often when he found something amusing that he shouldn't. He wondered if he'd ever see John do that again. The thought sobered Virgil considerably.
"Can I ask you something?" Luke shuffled a little closer and awaited Virgil's uncertain nod before continuing. "Are you really unafraid by all this?"
Virgil heaved a heavy sigh, and pulled an uncertain expression. When he thought about it he was afraid but by trying not to think about it, he was pushing the fear to one side. "I don't know," he admitted with a shrug. He was reluctant to confess exactly how he felt, even though his instincts were telling him, deep down, that Luke wouldn't exploit it.
"You don't know? You don't seem afraid," Luke replied with a thoughtful frown. "Doesn't it bother you that you might never see your family again?" Virgil swallowed, not needing the verbal reminder. His thoughts drifted to his family and for the first time he considered how they would react if the worst did happen.
They'd be devastated, of that he was sure. He cursed himself for being selfish enough to consider only his own feelings before now.
Finding it impossible to try to imagine how his family would cope, Virgil welcomed the sound of Luke's voice to distract him from his melancholy thoughts. "It bothers me," Luke admitted. Virgil looked across at him and an inquisitive frown formed on his battered features. "I want to see my family again," Luke said, his manner becoming wistful and sad. Virgil felt an element of jealousy rise up inside him. Luke was a father, and if his prediction about what was about to happen were to turn out correct, that was something Virgil would never experience. "Do you regret not having any kids?" Luke asked before Virgil had the chance to quiz him about his own family.
"I wish I could say I didn't have any regrets, but I'd be lying." Virgil paused, thinking about his life and the things he would go back and change, "I've grown up in a big family. I always assumed that when the time came, I'd have a big family too. Guess the time didn't come quick enough, huh? I never found the right person." Virgil found himself wondering how many of his relationships would have progressed if he hadn't let other things get in his way. He wondered just what he'd be doing if he hadn't left the real world to join International Rescue or more specifically, he wondered whether he'd be married by now. He wasn't complaining; he'd had more than his far share of relationships in the past, both good and bad. It just felt so unfulfilling now.
Virgil shrugged as best he could, "What about your family? Tell me about them." He didn't want the discussion to end. Strange as it was, the purposeful conversation was giving his mind something to process other than the situation. He didn't feel quite as alone as he had when he was being ignored and just forced to sit in silence on the floor.
"It's none of your business," Luke snapped.
"I didn't mean to pry," Virgil tried to apologise, worried that he'd crossed a line or hit a raw nerve. "I just don't understand how you ended up here. If what Billy said was true, then why didn't the authorities realize about your family?" He realised he was pushing his luck and gave up, instead sitting back with a frustrated sigh.
"I told you it's none of you business. Enough questions about me," Luke decided. "What about you? You've never felt the urge to settle down?" Virgil bit his lips together against both the emotional and physical pain. His bound wrists were throbbing and he ached all over.
"Yeah," he replied, grateful for the conversation and pleased that he hadn't pushed Luke into silence. "I often thought about it," he said, allowing himself to be honest now for his own sake. In his mind, he wasn't sure he'd get another chance. "But like I said, it wouldn't be fair to start a family now. I do this job knowing that there's a very real possibility I could be seriously hurt." He shook his head; sad that it was a fact and also sad that this whole experience was only proving it. "That's my decision but I can't expect anyone else to make the same commitment."
"So you gave up the opportunity to have a family of your own, all to join International Rescue?" Luke sighed in amazement. "That's a big sacrifice. I don't think I could do it." He ran a hand over his head, and took a small sip from the dregs of the bottle of water that Virgil eyed with desperation. "My family means too much to me." It was almost spoken with an accusing undertone.
"It's not all that bad," Virgil refuted the surprised but bitter tone to Luke's voice. "I love this job. I wouldn't swap it for the world." His thoughts were filled with resentment as he realised that even if he didn't love it, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it now. Shaking himself, he forced himself to be more positive.
"Not even for a family?" Luke struggled with the concept that Virgil wouldn't want to go back and change things in the past. After all, there was plenty he would change.
"I have a family, it's not like I'm on my own," Virgil told him. "Besides," he added, "I know what it's like to watch people you love walk into dangerous situations." For the second time, he stopped his tongue running away with its self; this was getting too close to the truth. "I…"
"Couldn't put anyone in a position where they felt that way about you," Luke finished for him. "Yeah, I get it. But it's no different to being married to a fireman or a copper, surely?" When Virgil just shrugged, Luke carried on. "Maybe that's why you're not scared," he theorised. "Because you're hardened to near death experiences."
Virgil thought about that phrase, wondering what constituted a near death experience.
"I never said I wasn't afraid," he said, surprised that the words left his mouth with such unchecked ease. He had been so adamant about never admitting that he was terrified. Now, he felt that somehow it made him weak that he'd done precisely that. Luke had broken his guard down bit by bit. Virgil could empathise with the youngest of his captors and he felt Luke was considerate of his situation in a way none of the others were. As his hope of surviving slowly faded, he found himself putting more and more reliance on Luke's support. A leap of faith that could prove disastrous.
Nevertheless, the stress, the pain and above all, the tension had long since overcome him. Deep down, he realised that the boundaries between rational thought and irrational judgment were becoming blurred. Whether it was the heat or the lack of oxygen in the air, he wasn't sure. He concluded that one of two things would happen: either he'd return to the safety of his family, or he'd end up on a cold slab in a morgue. The latter didn't appeal, yet it was the one deep down he believed to be more likely.
Either way, he thought, in four hours it'd all be over.
He couldn't have been more wrong if he'd tried.
XxxxX
"Mobile Control calling the Mole," Scott's voice crackled through the speakers of the burrowing machine causing Virgil's head to snap up. "Respond please," Scott continued.
Virgil looked across to Luke, "We should answer it, hopefully the article's finished." Luke nodded as Scott repeated the call in the background. He went to stand up and move across to the bench seats to wake the other two but Virgil spoke again, stopping him in his tracks. "Luke, it's not too late. You can still help us," he tried not to sound as if he was desperate but they both knew that was exactly what he was.
Luke just simply shook his head and reached a hand out to Jake's shoulder, "Jake, wake up."
Virgil watched from the floor as Luke woke both of them, his heart was sinking at the thought of what was going to happen next. The last thing he wanted was for them to get away, but at the same time all he could think about was going home to the safety and security of his family. Determined, he began to think about the things that he would do when he got out of this mess. First on the list was a nice hot shower followed by a slice of Grandma's infamous apple pie…
"Get up," he was jolted from his thoughts as Jake pulled on his bound arms, yanking him up until he had his feet under him. Virgil hid the pain the movement caused and bit hard on his lip. Feeling the now familiar iron taste of his own blood, he looked away. The rough skin of Jake's hand forced his face in the opposite direction and Jake inspected the damage closely. "Hmm," he frowned at Luke. "Not a bad job with the face." He shoved Virgil towards the communications console and, with a forceful hand on his shoulder, pushed him down in the seat. Virgil let out a grunt as his bound wrists pulled on his shoulders, but otherwise remained silent.
"Mole, this is Mobile Control, please respond," Scott's voice continued. Virgil could hear the change in the tone though and realised his older brother was beginning to lose an element of his much renowned self control. He hoped it was only noticeable to his own well-trained ears.
"Well, answer him!" Jake growled, holding his scalpel against the back of Virgil's neck.
"I can't," Virgil forced his lips steady as he spoke and tried to appear calm. Now of all times, he knew it was important to not let the fear show. Hiding his terror from three individuals he didn't know from Adam, was easy. Hiding his feelings from Scott was a difficult task at the best of times. "I need my hands to use the radio."
Virgil looked straight ahead at the small screen on the console. He didn't need to turn to where Jake stood alongside him to know he was frowning in deep displeasure. The ominous and imposing figure stood to his left heaved a sigh and, after a few seconds of thought, nodded with reluctance. "Alright, Billy, untie one hand," he ordered, gesturing to where Virgil was sat. "Make sure you hold the other one tight."
Virgil swallowed, as he felt the bonds being loosened and his right hand freed. He rotated his wrist a few times and flexed his fingers to get the blood flowing properly. The freedom was short lived as Billy twisted his left arm up behind his back and forced him forward on the seat, "Come on," he snarled, "get on with it!"
Virgil lifted his hand to the console and positioned the microphone on it's flexible stand, "Go ahead S.." he stopped himself, "Mobile Control."
"Virgil," Scott appeared on the small screen and took in his brother's battered appearance. "What happened?" he tried to appear shocked at Virgil's condition, though it was much of what he'd been expecting. "Are you okay?"
Jake gave an indignant scoff from Virgil's left, "You bloody well know what happened and don't pretend otherwise." Scott ignored the comment and concentrated on his brother. Virgil was pale and the fear he felt was written all over his face for Scott to see.
He frowned, "Are you okay?" he asked again. Scott's eyes strayed from where he met Virgil's gaze, he studied the cuts to his brother's forehead and cheeks, in particular the split skin of Virgil's eyelid. There was still dried blood on his face and the bruises that covered him were already starting to darken.
Virgil opened his mouth to reply despite the fact his eyes told Scott the real truth. He didn't get a chance to make a sound though, as Billy twisted his arm harder, "Cut the pleasantries and get on with it. Have you got the article?"
Scott saw Virgil stiffen and the look of pain that crossed his face. The display only further aggravated his anger, he was determined they would pay for this, in one way or another. "Yeah," he replied distracted by the expression on Virgil's face. "I'm sending it through now." He turned to his console before looking back, straight into Virgil's eyes. "It's sent. Any changes you need making won't make the morning addition in England. But they will in the States and parts of Europe." Scott paused, "Listen, there's something else, it's important…"
Whirring of machinery alerted Virgil to another console and he turned away to accept the data that Scott had sent.
Scott frowned at Virgil's lack of concentration. "Virgil, listen to me," he snapped a little, this information was not to be discarded. Virgil stopped at the tone, realising his brother was under stress, and turned back to him with a frown of his own. "Our engineer is worried that the air recycler won't be able to handle the constant use. He says if you let the motor burn out, then you've got a serious problem on your hands because the reverse thrusters will fail too."
Virgil looked up at him with a blank expression before beginning to nod his head. "The filter on the air recycler's already blocked, it's feeding back carbon dioxide," he said, his manner becoming business like. "We're starting to get a build up," he continued, surprised that no one had stopped the complex discussion. "But the air's still breathable."
Scott nodded, "Okay, if necessary there's always the oxygen canisters in the …"
Virgil's nod cut him off, "I've already thought of that, but I can't turn the recycler off, all other life support systems will go off too." He risked a glance sideways at his captors and found them all pouring over the hard copy of the article he'd just printed. Despite that, Billy still had his arm held in a firm grip.
Scott noticed that the other three hadn't spoken. "Are you okay?" he asked again.
Virgil tried to manage a small smile. He wanted to tell Scott so much but the words were cumbersome and the last thing he wanted was to worry his brother even more than he could see he was already. He shrugged and nodded a little, convincing himself that the words didn't need to be spoken to be understood.
Scott sighed at the forlorn, sad acceptance Virgil oozed. He looked tired, maybe the injuries to his face were accentuating that, but the thing that Scott found most disturbing by far was his brother's eyes. Not the bruising, nor the cut on his eyelid but what the eyes held: fear. A fear Scott knew Virgil would be trying to hide. Somehow, that just made it worse. Scott knew the fear he could see was only a fraction on the fear Virgil felt.
Pushing his own feelings away, Scott returned to safe ground. "We haven't received an ETD, have you sent one?"
Virgil's eyes flashed nervously and he felt Billy's grip tighten. "No," he shook his head. Answering as quickly as he could, before Billy had a chance to stop him. "But I will." He nodded at Scott, letting him know he'd received the true message.
"Whoa!" Billy barked, twisting Virgil's arm again. "Less of the abbreviations, what's an ETD?"
Virgil swallowed, afraid that they'd been discovered. He closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged, despite his tense posture. "ETD is Estimated Time of Departure," he was thankful when Scott's quick thinking reply came through the speakers.
Billy seemed satisfied and nodded. Scott's eyes went to Virgil though, who was smiling, grateful for his older brother's intelligence. The smile faded as Jake turned back to them, with a wide grin.
"This is passable. I've heard of this Cook bloke," he gestured to the article. "Is the plane ready?"
"Yes," Scott nodded. "With a full tank of fuel just like you asked."
Jake bit on his bottom lip pensively, "I want you to start it up now. We'll surface but I want the engines running by the time we get to it."
"Well," Scott frowned back, "if we start it up now, you realize that there won't be a full tank of fuel by the time you reach it?"
"Of course I realise that, don't treat me like I'm an idiot!" Jake snapped.
Watching as the blond protagonist bristled and bared his teeth brought the image of a caged animal at a zoo to Scott's mind.
"And there are no tracking devices?" Scott shook his head. "We're not to be followed," Jake reiterated.
Scott nodded and again, let his gaze return to his brother. "All we want is Virgil back," he said. Virgil's eyes met his and he swallowed again, harder this time. Scott couldn't help but pick up the foreboding vibes his brother was expelling by the dozen load. Before Virgil could comment, Jake bellowed to cut the feed and Virgil closed his eyes in an effort not to flinch at the sudden assault on his eardrums. He did as requested and closed the link but not before glancing up to Scott with a sad smile.
The melancholy look in Virgil's eye appeared defeated and apologetic. Even though it only took a second for the look to pass between them, the after affects, Scott knew, would be harder to shake. He'd never seen such a hollow sadness in his brother before, but he was certain that in that moment Virgil had not only validated his fears but brought about a whole new level of helplessness.
Scott had been afraid in his lifetime. He wasn't ashamed of it either - sometimes fear was what kept you going. He'd feared for his own life and he'd feared for his brothers' lives too, Virgil included, but he'd never felt the same fear that he felt in that one fleeting moment.
"Scott?" Gordon's voice brought him back to his surroundings and he realised that his brothers were awaiting some kind of news. "How is he?" Gordon questioned.
"He's fine," Scott found the words leaving his lips before he'd even processed the question. He looked around the room at his brothers, and then Ned and Dr Hunt before turning back to his console to face the live feed from Thunderbird Five.
"John, can you get on to Base? Let them know what's happening. They're going to be surfacing now." The command felt good and he turned across to Gordon and Alan, ready to try another one. "Alan, take Dr. Hunt and Ned to the town. They'll be safer there," he nodded to himself, content to take his mind away from the other places it might've strayed to. "I'll contact Lady Penelope. Gordon, you go and break us out some weapons from Thunderbird Two."
Gordon acquiesced and turned away, walking confidently out of the tent, but Alan hesitated. He looked across to Ned and Dr Hunt, neither showing signs of moving. He wasn't sure he had time to evacuate them anyway, but the last thing he wanted was to question Scott's orders, considering the mood his older brother was in.
Thankfully he didn't have to, John's voice could be heard through the radio, "Scott, the Mole's moving now. Virgil's following the course I sent through earlier. There won't be the added friction of drilling through the earth so he should be a bit quicker." John hesitated, aware that questioning Scott's authority would only get him into a sticky situation. He hoped his brother would pick up on what he was saying and claim the idea as his own.
Sure enough Scott nodded, "Okay, so we won't have time to evacuate." He frowned, "Dr. Hunt, Ned," he addressed the two civilians. "You're going to have to stay here until it's all over. However, it's essential that you stay here, out of sight. They made it clear that they didn't want anyone here except us, so you lay low okay?" Dr Hunt smiled and gave a nervous nod. Ned's expression was a complete contrast to Dr Hunt's apprehension. The intrepid reporter nodded his head in excitement, his eyes gleaming with the adrenaline rush.
"Right," Scott turned back to John. "John, when you've contacted Base, can you get me a status report on the fire?" He waited for John's nod and the standard reply before turning back to Alan. "You'd better go and start the engines going on that jet and then go give Gordon a hand," he watched his youngest brother as he hurried out of the tent.
Opening a channel to Penelope, he relayed the information they already had and awaited her response. Somewhere in the background the jet's engines had started and were getting louder.
"I see, Scott," she responded from the screen. "I've been doing a little detective work myself," she smiled and raised a demure eyebrow. "Parker and I have been trying to anticipate precisely what our friends in the Mole are planning. We've been working on the assumption that they'll be heading for an airfield of some kind. After all, they'll need either more fuel or another plane, depending on where they want to go. It seems one of them may have the contacts necessary for that kind of manoeuvre," she paused to glance down at her lap and confirm the information. "William McConnell served in the Navy alongside a Terrence Balder. This Balder character now runs the Air Traffic Control centre at an aerodrome just south of Newcastle."
Scott frowned, unconvinced. "You think he'll head there? For what, another plane?"
Penelope was already nodding in reply, "Parker's been in touch with one or two of his fellow…" she hesitated in order to find the word, "contemporaries, shall we say." Clearing her throat, she continued, "He came across a chap who knew Jake Field quite well. Seems he's always had a penchant for France, he made big plans to escape there once," Penelope's eyebrows raised yet again.
"That's great work, Penelope," Scott grinned, though he was still apprehensive. "But it's still a long shot, I think we should be prepared to track them anywhere. There's no guarantee that Field or McConnell still have the outside contacts they once did."
Penelope nodded, "Absolutely, Scott, I couldn't agree more." She looked up at the concealed anxiousness on his features and felt she should try again to reassure him. Hopefully it would have more of an affect than her earlier failed attempt. "Don't worry," she sighed, "Parker and I have every possible eventuality covered. We won't let you down, Scott. These crooks will get what they deserve."
Scott smiled at her positive attitude and her sheer determination, "I sure hope so, Penelope." He began to feel the ground shaking and assumed the Mole was nearing the surface. "I think they're surfacing, I'll keep you informed," he told her as Gordon and Alan came into the tent at a run.
"FAB, Scott," she hoped the smile she conveyed was reassuring as she closed the link down and sighed heavily. "Oh dear, Parker, what a tangled web we seem to be caught up in."
Scott meanwhile, stood up from his console and headed over to where Alan and Gordon where sorting through weapons. Approaching them he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, "What have you got? The Mole's going to be surfacing soon."
Gordon was the most experienced of the two younger brothers in the weapons department and handed Scott a heavy duty fire arm. "Here," he said, watching his brother weight the weapon. "It's fully loaded already and I've got a spare magazine over there," he gestured to the small box on the floor. "There are laser guns in here, but I thought it might get too dangerous so I wasn't sure …" he shook his head, looking to Scott for guidance.
"This'll be fine," Scott replied. "They're only as a precaution anyway. Hopefully we won't have to use them." He examined the weapon, working the safety catch and checking the barrels. Alan and Gordon selected theirs and followed his lead. "Okay, listen up," Scott spoke. His tone, as authoritative as it always was, garnered his brothers' attention. "Our main priority out there is to keep Virgil safe and stop him from getting hurt. Catching these guys and dishing out our own brand of justice," he waved a hand. "That all comes second to Virgil. Penelope and Parker are ready to do that for us," he added as he looked at both his brothers in turn. "Now, we know these guys have knives and that they've got Virgil's gun. Just because we don't know they have anything else, doesn't mean they don't." He paused, holding the gun in his own hand up, "Now these weapons are for self defense only, so it's imperative no-one shoots unless they shoot at us first, got it?"
Gordon and Alan both nodded, feeling a strong sense of duty towards both their elder brothers. "What's the plan then, Scott?" Gordon asked.
"Well, we don't know what's going to happen when they surface so the plan's more of a rough guide," he looked across at Gordon, trusting him to use all his military training in this exercise. "We stand between the Mole and the jet. The jets engines are running, so hopefully they'll release Virgil and we can let them take off in the jet."
"What if they don't release Virgil?" Gordon asked, nervous of the holes in their plan. From his left, he saw Alan glaring at him for making such a suggestion.
"They'll release him, they won't have a choice if they want their jet," Scott's reply was adamant. He hoped that was an end to the discussion. He knew Gordon was trying to cover every angle but he'd run through every eventuality in his mind already and he'd made his decision. Gordon's job was to obey him, not to question him.
"Have you thought about what we'll do if they try to take Virgil with them?" Gordon's questions continued.
"Of course I have," Scott replied with a little more bite than necessary. "Look, these guys are using Virgil as a means to an end; to get to that jet and escape. After they've done that, he's of no use to them. They won't take him," he said with certainty. "They've got no reason to," he added. Deep down, he was convincing himself as much as he was convincing the others. He missed the fleeting look of uncertainty passing between his youngest brothers.
Gordon nodded at Scott's curt reply despite the fact that he had reservations. He trusted his eldest brother to know what the best course of action was, and he knew that Scott's plan would have their father's backing.
"Mobile Control to Thunderbird Five," Scott plopped down at his console, as Alan stood by the tent door waiting for the Mole to surface.
"Go ahead, Scott," John looked up, a little weary in his appearance. "I've just checked on your fire," he spoke quickly and avoided his brother's gaze. Scott knew he felt guilty about what had happened during the night, but John had been right; they didn't have time for that now. "What's left of the fire is burning itself out. It's completely extinguished in the main rooms that were fitted with the fire fighting system," John reported, knowing that would have been what Scott was calling for. "There's heat registering from a lab at the back of the center, but that's miles away from you and there's also heat and smoke registering from a storage room. That's a lot closer to you, but according to the list I have here, there's nothing explosive stored there." He met Scott's gaze with a brief glance, "I think it's just stationary. It should burn itself out. It's just taking longer because there's no system in there."
"Thanks, John," Scott nodded. "Let me know if there's any change. You all set to help Penelope?"
"Yeah," John replied but he seemed distracted. "Mole's ETA to the surface is seven minutes, shouldn't you be in position?"
Scott glanced at his watch and gave a nervous grin. "Yeah," he sighed. "Keep in touch."
"FAB," John nodded, his blond hair falling into his eyes until he swiped it away, "Good luck, Scott," he added softly.
Scott ignored that last comment for the sake of his sanity and turned to his two younger brothers, "Okay, are you ready for this?" he asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Alan replied, as they made their way out of the tent, giving one final warning to Ned and Dr Hunt as they did.
XxxxX
Virgil adjusted the controls as the Mole began to thread its way along the course. They were nearing the surface now and the battered pilot had mixed feelings. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the task at hand. As the Mole responded to his one handed commands, the incline changed and any loose material in the cabin slid towards the nose. A clatter to his left drew Virgil's attention away from the controls and he saw the remains of his watch in a heap on the floor. He was tempted to try and retrieve it but he knew it was broken beyond repair and he couldn't risk being caught.
Virgil tried to ignore his three captors' as they crowed above his head about the finished article and its contents. It seemed they were pleased with the finished result, even though Virgil was pretty sure it wouldn't actually have been published. After a while, they reached the surface and the burrowing machine levelled out as it came to stop on its trolley. A loud hissing noise filled the cabin and the prisoners' laughter faded away.
"What the hell is that noise?" Jake demanded, looking around him but taking steps to close the distance between himself and Virgil, in a threatening manner.
"It's the air recycler," Virgil told him, his gaze on the scalpel that Jake was thrusting in his face. "It's sucking in the oxygen from the air outside. The air in here should get easier to breathe now." He kept his explanation simple on purpose, so as not to anger Jake with unnecessary and complicated technical jargon.
"Hmm," Jake frowned, suspicious of his explanation and looked up to Billy who still held Virgil's wrist in a tight hold. "Tie his hands again, he's served his purpose now," Jake spoke over Virgil's head but the words didn't go unnoticed and they succeeded in sending a chill up Virgil's spine. He no longer resisted as he felt Billy take his wrists and re-tie them behind his back. He didn't even wince when Billy tugged with vigour and the coarse rope dug into his wrists.
Jake looked around, surprised by the artificial lights that continued to shine. "Doesn't this thing have any windows?" Virgil shook his head in reply and opened his mouth to point out the two small circular windows, but Billy yanked his arm and he clamped his mouth shut to stop himself crying out. "Great!" Jake groaned, "How are we supposed to see if the plane's even there?"
"Virgil, can you cut the engines on this thing?" Luke stepped forward and gestured to the console, much calmer than his comrades. "Maybe we can hear it."
"No," Virgil shook his head. "Not until the air recyclers have finished. Then they'll switch off themselves. It should take about twenty minutes," he informed them. Glancing up to one of the screens on the console, he checked on the progress bar.
"Good," Billy nodded, pulling Virgil to his feet with his bound wrists. "Plenty of time then," he grinned and took a firmer grip on Virgil's forearms.
"Plenty of time for what?" Luke voiced Virgil's own thoughts and he glanced between his two companions with a frown of confusion.
Billy smirked at Jake with malice and then took a step closer to Virgil until he was stood right behind him. Virgil felt the heat of his body and tried not to flinch as Billy leant forward until his mouth was alongside Virgil's ear. "Settling some scores," he rumbled.
"What?" Luke asked, frowning at Billy's intimidation.
Billy's reply was to push Virgil's shoulder, causing him to stumble forward. "On your knees," Billy instructed, digging his knee into Virgil's back to ensure he stayed where he was.
Luke looked between Billy and Jake who had taken a seat at the control console and was watching the display in amusement. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he squeaked as Billy took casual steps round to Virgil's front. Picking up the gun that rested on the seat as he did, he began loading it in a methodical manner.
"We don't need him anymore, and he knows too much," Billy said as he finished loading the bullets and snapped the gun shut. Virgil watched in surprise as Billy handled his gun with almost the same skill Virgil himself had. He remembered what Luke had said about Billy having had experience with guns and wondered about his criminal past.
"Of course we need him!" Luke was exclaiming, his own voice rose as he spoke. He was well aware of what was about to happen and was beginning to panic. "How… How are we going to get out of here without him?" he flustered, waving a hand at their surroundings.
"Calm down, Luke," Jake said from the other side of the cabin, where he toyed with the scalpel in his hands. "There aren't any key pads on this side of the door," Luke's head turned to the electric door, checking the validity of the statement. "We'll be fine getting out," he nodded to a sign that stated quite clearly how to use the exit, in case of an emergency.
Virgil watched in silent horror as Billy raised the gun and levelled it at his head, pushing the barrel up against his forehead. He took in a deep breath and bit his bottom lip, before meeting Luke's gaze with wide eyes.
"Some people say the perfect execution should be done from behind, but the front's so much more personal." Billy's brutal smirk carried a sadistic streak, "Wouldn't you agree?"
"Billy, wait!" Luke stepped forward, his hands raised. He met Virgil's wide eyed expression once more but only for a few seconds. "I'll do it," he moved to take the gun from Billy but the blond pushed him away with his free hand.
"No, it was me he would've killed." Billy argued, "I'll do it."
"Why?" Luke argued back. "We promised International Rescue we wouldn't hurt him. Why would you kill him?"
Billy scoffed, pushing the gun against Virgil's skin and causing his prisoner to tense. "Don't talk to me about promises!" Billy exploded. "He promised he wouldn't try anything and he did. Now he has to face the consequences." He looked across to Luke, who was shaking his head. Seeing the negative action, he added, "For Christ's sake, Luke, he held a gun to my head and pulled the trigger. He would've killed me! Hell, he could've killed me!" He paused and turned his attention back to Virgil, "What goes around, comes around."
Virgil concentrated on breathing deeply and not letting the panic show. He pressed his sweaty palms together behind his back and realised his hands were trembling. Squeezing his fingers, he tried to stop the rest of his body from following suit. As Billy's thumb moved to the safety catch Virgil tried to speak. "I…" he trailed off, finding his throat too dry. Coughing a little, he tried again, "Would you deny a dieing man his last wish?"
Billy looked up and rolled his eyes, sarcasm and boredom contained there at the request, "That depends on what it is."
"In my pocket…" Virgil stammered out, "In my pocket, there's a foil wrapped piece of toffee." He bit his bottom lip in trepidation and watched the others look between themselves. "Let me eat it," Virgil swallowed. "Please."
He was playing a dangerous game. He'd been trying to get at his Editable Transmitting Device ever since Scott had given him the coded message, but with his hands bound it was impossible. He was well aware that eating it now would do him no good whatsoever if they were to kill him. But he was relying on the fact that he knew how Jake liked to torment him. Besides, he thought, even if it didn't work at least they'd be able to find his body, unlike Luke's brother. He was barely aware that his brothers were less than five metres away and that there wasn't an issue with finding his body. Such was his confused mental state.
He realised now that he'd been consumed by the fear and the panic, causing his normally clear thought process to become indistinct and imprudent. He was panicking. Pure and simple. This was one of the few times in his life when Virgil Tracy was really panicking.
Billy gestured Luke to retrieve the camouflaged device and he did as he was told, reaching into Virgil's pocket. He stood back and unwrapped it, but was interrupted when Jake stepped forward. In his head, Virgil let out a sigh but in actuality he daren't. "Give it here," Jake commanded, reaching over Virgil's head to hold a hand out.
Luke obliged and Jake lifted the toffee to his nose, smelling it. "Strange request," he commented. "Most people want a call to their loved ones. Or at least a…" he adopted a high pitched, pathetic voice, "'tell them I love them'." He smirked down at where Virgil knelt on the floor now unable to stop himself shaking.
Jake held the unwrapped sweet to Virgil's lips and for a few seconds the pilot thought his plan had backfired. He met Jake's hard glare and swallowed before opening his mouth.
As he'd expected, Virgil's taste buds began to water and he could smell the sugary aroma before Jake suddenly pulled it away and popped it into his own mouth. Virgil resisted smiling in satisfaction when he realised that Billy was still holding a loaded gun to his head; he'd lost his battle and they were winning the war. He hoped what he'd just done would go some way to turning the balance. They could never escape being tracked now.
"Hmm," Jake sighed in satisfaction. "Strawberry, my favourite." He smirked at Virgil, thoroughly pleased with himself, "Go on, Billy, he's all yours." Jake disappeared to Virgil's left, coming to stand behind him.
Billy checked the safety catch was off and steadied his hand.
Virgil took in a deep breath, then closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate and determined he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing his horror.
"Open your eyes!" Billy shouted, pushing the gun a little harder. Virgil's tense form rocked with the extra pressure.
Without any rush, he complied. His eyes felt moist and he was suddenly aware that they would appear watery. He tried to blink it back but the smirk on Billy's face told him, he'd already seen. Angry that he'd allowed himself the humiliation, Virgil's resolve hardened.
"That's better," Billy told him. "I want to see what's going through your mind in the last minutes."
"Billy, don't do it!" Luke was still trying to dissuade the would-be murderer.
Virgil screwed his nose up a little in disgust but bit down hard on his lip. It came to his attention that things should be spinning through his mind now. You were supposed to see your life before you in your last few moments. However, in those few precious seconds when he should've been considering his loved ones and how he'd spent his life, he found his mind blank.
A sudden thought struck him as to what Gordon had wanted with cerise coloured paint yesterday and then….
"BANG"