The Tracy Family and Thunderbirds are the creation of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson
Author's Note: While NVG's, Night Vision Goggles, are a functioning piece of equipment used by the military, they have not, as yet, been up-graded to a one-piece visor, that being purely my interpretation of how this system would develop.
The injury mentioned has been treated according to Combat First Aid techniques after having consulted a former Medic in The Royal Army Medical Corp and also has the approval of a Red Cross First Aid Instructor.
Chapter 68
Scott dropped to one knee, on high alert now as his eyes swept round the clearing, thankful at least there was no reception committee waiting for him. Hand over hand he expertly pulled in the green/brown camouflaged parachute and when he had it all gathered in, unhooked the Survival Pack from the harness, and slipped quickly back into the cover of the surrounding jungle. The heat and humidity was stifling as he pulled off his helmet, hearing now only the sounds of the jungle, chirping insects and the birds in the trees as some rose from their perches, signalling his arrival.
His main priority was to find Jez as quickly as possible, hope that he had made it and then to arrange for an extraction from this dangerous environment but there were a few things he needed to do first; he needed to erase all trace of his being here. He quickly unzipped his Anti-G suit and discarded it, having no need of it now and needing to keep as cool as possible to avoid succumbing to heat exhaustion.
Kneeling by the Survival Pack, he opened it and scanning the contents began taking out the things he would need, the first being his Ka-bar Short Fighting/Utility Knife with its 51/4" black carbon steel blade, a deadly and lethal looking silent weapon. The knife had been a favourite among the Marines of WWII over a century ago but with its quality and craftsmanship having stood the test of time it was now standard issue in the survival packs. He strapped the sheath, emblazoned with the Air Force logo, to his lower right leg. Next he pulled out the small Spetznaz Survival machete, so called because it had once only been available to the elite Spetznaz Special Forces and the Soviet AF but with the open exchange of some technology it had been made available to the American Forces. It was 15" overall in length with a compact 10" broad blade, a saw edge down one side and would be extremely useful for cutting his way through dense vegetation, though he didn't want to do to much of that and leave a trail for the enemy to follow. Strapping it to his waist he then pulled out the 2-color paint stick of brown and olive green, and using the small mirror quickly applied the slash pattern camouflage to his face as they had been taught, in order to blend in with his surroundings, it also having the added advantage of being an insect repellent.
Closing up the pack again for now, Scott winced and holding his side got to his feet. Taking the machete from its sheath he hacked of some of the parachute chords, then knelt and tied a couple of them around the ankles of his flight suit in the hope it would prevent anything crawling up his legs and tying a few more together in a bundle he stuffed them into one of his flight suit pockets, thinking that they may be useful. When he was satisfied he had all he needed he scanned around for a suitable place to bury his chute. Going to some dense undergrowth he hacked with the machete and pulled back the loosened foliage, stuffing the chute along with his Anti-G suit in as far as he could reach. He lifted, too, his lightweight helmet and knowing it would be far too hot to wear it and not wanting to be lumbered with carrying it he hit it with the handle of the machete, smashing the visor that incorporated the Heads Up Display, rendering it useless. He put it into the chute, pulled the foliage back over, arranging it till he was satisfied nothing could be seen and that it looked completely natural.
Going over to retrieve the Survival Pack, he first searched a pouch in his Survival Vest and pulled out a small datapad. Entering the code, a map of the area he was now in appeared on the screen and after studying it briefly, switched it off, put it back in his pocket and turned to face the direction he was sure he had seen Jez come down. Unzipping another larger pocket in his vest Scott pulled out his NVS, Night Vision System, a head-mounted visor which enabled its wearer to see as clear as day in the dark. Although called a night vision system it was actually capable of various functions, this particular system being the Generation 5 Thermal Day/Night Vision System. Originally called NVG's, Night Vision Goggles, because they looked more like goggles with their two eyepieces, it was changed to a visor, giving more all round panoramic vision. It also had the capability of recording everything the wearer saw and had a thermal imager, able to detect human or animal heat source, and it was for this function that Scott was now using it, to help him find his friend, Jez Numann in the dense jungle. Donning the head-strap he pulled the visor down over his eyes and activated the system, adjusting it to daylight, which allowed him to see normally. Activating the Thermal Imager he continued to listen for any sounds of human activity, then he slipped off his watch and put it one of his pockets, lest its reflective surface should give him away. Scanning the area one last time to make sure all traces of him had been obliterated Scott picked up the Survival Pack, slung it over his shoulder and prepared to move out.
He moved stealthily through the jungle, taking care to avoid the trails and glad that the vegetation was not that dense he couldn't move through it. A sudden noise made him draw a breath and stand still but he breathed a sigh of relief on realising it was the shrill alarm call of a monkey high up in the trees. The heat was stifling and Scott, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, took the opportunity of a welcome sip of water from one of the bottles in the Survival Pack, all the time keeping alert and looking about him. A sudden rustling to his right made him instinctively drop to one knee behind the cover of a tree and after turning in that direction again breathed a sigh of relief, smilingly shaking his head, as the Thermal Imager picked up the heat form of a wild pig. Squealing, it burst from the undergrowth and ran off.
A short time later Scott stopped and again dropped into the cover of the foliage, his face being that of puzzled concern, for while he could not yet visibly see up ahead the Thermal Imager was showing the heat of a human form. He knew it was Jez and he knew he was alive for the form was moving, though what bothered him was the image was sitting in one place, making no attempt to conceal itself. While part of him wanted to go to his friend immediately he remained instinctively cautious, knowing this could well be a trap. If 'Charlie' had found Jez already they could be using him as bait to draw him out. Scott swept the area with the Thermal Imager and breathed a bit easier when no other heat source showed up, though still he remained wary, thinking that maybe the enemy could have found a way to evade detection. Using all his skill of concealment Scott moved closer until he had a visual, confirming that it was his friend, Jez and he was, indeed, sitting propped against a tree, making no attempt to get up. Scott frowned; he knew his colleague must be hurt and was going to need his help but he had to make sure. From his hiding place Scott cupped his hand to his mouth and putting his head back gave out a short barking sound, their pre-arranged signal.
Hot and in pain Jez let his head slump forward to his chest. He had no idea how long he had been sitting here after managing to drag himself to the shelter and support of the tree. It had been one hell of a crash landing down through the trees but he counted himself lucky to be alive at all. As he focused his way through his pain he hoped Scott had fared better than he had and that, somehow, his friend would find him, for he didn't relish the thought of being totally alone in this hostile place.
Now, he jerked his head up suddenly, sure that he heard a familiar call, hoping against hope that he wasn't imagining it, going delusional with the heat and pain of his injury. They had been told, in the familiarisation class they had attended when they first arrived, that giving way to fear and panic in the jungle can make you see and hear things. He listened intently, praying he would hear it again and there it was, that unmistakeable signal call from his friend. He could have cried with relief, in fact, he found himself wiping his eyes with the emotion that swept through him, with the relief that his friend was alive, with the relief that he had been found and was no longer alone. Composing himself he cupped his hand to his mouth and gave the agreed reply, knowing Scott would not come out of hiding until he heard it.
Scott closed his eyes briefly and sighed with relief. Jez had heard him and gave him the reply he was hoping for, knowing that had Jez been in the hands of the enemy he would have given him a different call to warn him. Confident now all was safe Scott moved out of his hiding place, pulling off the NVS visor as he did so and putting it back in his pocket.
Jez looked eagerly round to see where his friend was hiding but so good had his concealment been Jez barely saw him step from the dappled shadows. "Gee Scott…..I didn't….recognise you…there…for a minute…..say…nice make-up….buddy…you goin….out somewhere….nice," Jez quipped, trying to keep his spirits up with a little humor as he winced with the pain.
"Yeah…well we gotta keep up appearances, buddy……gotta look our best for when we get picked up, huh," Scott joked, in an effort to keep things light for his friend's sake and keeping his voice low, barely above a whisper. "I'll put yours on when I've had a look here." Dropping his pack he knelt by his friend, trying to conceal his own pain as his eyes scanned over Jez for injuries. He winced slightly when he looked down at his right leg.
"Think I've….got…myself in a…bit of…a mess here, Scott…..it's broken. Came down…through those damn trees…didn't I," Jez explained, knowing only too well what his injury was. "Say….what about you….how'd…you do?"
"Me! Yeah…I'm fine, buddy. Came down in a clearing," Scott replied with false cheerfulness.
"Yeah…that'd be…right. Lady Luck….always did favor…..the good-lookin….ones," Jez returned in good-natured banter, making both men smile. Jez eyed his friend warily, there was something his friend wasn't telling him but right now, though, he had pain of his own to think about.
"I've gotta get a look at this, Jez," Scott said, returning to being serious and trying not to show his concern. Jez nodded.
Scott carefully unzipped the right leg of Jez's Anti-G suit then proceeded to undo the rest of it and slip it off him. Unzipping up the inside leg of his flight suit he gently peeled it back, exposing the injury, his face giving away nothing more than a slight twitch at what he saw.
"It's bad….isn't it, Scott?" Jez said, looking down at his leg, though trying not to think about it.
Scott wasn't going to lie to him but neither was he going to let him give up hope. "Yeah….it's kinda bad, Jez…..but it's fixable bad," he responded positively.
"Are we…gonna get….outta this, Scott?" Jez found himself asking and being realistic enough to know he wasn't in too good a shape. The pain and heat, too, were taking their toil and making him feel despondent.
Scott knew he needed to keep his spirits up so gave him a broad grin. "Hell yeah….we're gettin outta this.….I got me a nice cold beer waitin back at the mess……you owe me, buddy…..remember that last bet….and I aim to collect……so I'm gonna fix you up……pick us out a nice little LZ…..nothin too hot mind…we'll be on our way……and you can get me that cold beer," Scott quipped lightly, trying to convince himself as much as his friend.
Jez half laughed, getting weary now. "Ya know….you're so full a crap sometimes…..Lieutenant Tracy…but hey….that's the kinda crap I wanna hear."
"Well….that's Ist Lieutenant privileges….to give crap to 2nd Lieutenants!" Scott grinned.
All the time Scott had been assessing the situation, how he was going to treat this injury and what he would need. Jez had indeed broken his leg but it wasn't just an ordinary break. It was an open fracture of the tibia; the larger of the two bones in the lower leg, meaning the bone was protruding through the skin at the shin. It was not an option to push the bone back under the skin. He was going to have to leave it as it was, pad it, cover it to keep it from infection and finally stabilize his lower leg before he could move him. Time was of the essence and they couldn't afford to be around here for too much longer.
Scott moved up to his friend's side and searched through a pouch of Jez's Survival Vest, pulling out what he needed, a hypospray of painkilling morphine. It wasn't that he was unwilling to give Jez his own, it's just that he seemed to have an aversion to morphine-based shots. For some reason they made him ill when the effects wore off, so he had been issued with his own special, though equally effective, painkilling hypospray and, somehow, he knew he was going to need it.
"I'll give you a shot of this…..it should help," Scott told him.
Jez gratefully nodded as Scott pressed it to his neck. Focusing on shutting out his own pain, Scott pushed himself to his feet and, drawing the machete from its sheath, began to look about. Jez's eyes went wide.
"Hey Scott….tell me that's not what ya mean by fixable…….I mean…you ain't gonna take my leg off, buddy….are ya!" Jez wearily joked.
Scott looked at the fearsome tool in his hand and grinned. "Hell no….there isn't enough meat on that leg of yours anyway to keep us both going. No…I need to make some splints," he replied, assuring him of the real reason it was drawn.
"Well…thank gawd for that….you had me…worried there, buddy," Jez continued in light-hearted mood, despite the pain he was in. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand as he tried to concentrate on his breathing.
Searching quickly Scott found what he was looking for, two fairly straight, stout but not too heavy sticks. With a few well-placed chops he hacked off the surplus twigs and stripped off the rough bark, bringing back his make-shift splints along with the material strips he had cut from Jez's nearby parachute. He made a mental note that he would have to hide that before they left. Dragging the two Survival Packs, the other one being Jez's, over to his casualty Scott again gingerly knelt down at Jez's uninjured left side and opened them up, scanning the contents for the dressings he needed, but first, he opened up one of the water bottles and gave Jez a drink along with some of the antibiotic tablets they had been issued with. Grateful for the cooling liquid Jez gulped it down and would have kept drinking had Scott not taken it from him, having to remind him they only had so much and would need it later. Scott took a swallow for himself and put the bottle back.
Next he took the antiseptic/anaesthetic hyprospray from one of Jez's pockets, being part of their first-aid kit and set it beside the bandage pads he had taken from their sterile wrappers, using the opened Survival Packs to keep everything off the jungle floor. Scott searched around beside him and finding a suitable stick hacked off the bark and gave it to Jez. "Here….bite down on this," Scott encouraged him with all the confidence of one who knows what he's doing. Once Scott explained what he was going to do, Jez nodded and satisfied he had everything he needed to hand Scott got to work.
First Scott sprayed the wound with the antiseptic spray, making Jez go rigid, biting down on the stick with a muffled groan and digging his fingers into the earth beside him. Scott winced then had a thought as to how he could keep Jez occupied as he worked.
"Hey Jez….hear the one about the teacher who asked the kids to get their parents to tell them a family story with a moral to it?" Scott asked, keeping his voice low, to which Jez grimaced and shook his head. "Kid says….'my Uncle Bob was a Huey pilot in the Nam war…..Huey got hit….he was goin down…..had a bottle of whiskey with him'…..more than likely a good single malt," he added seriously, making Jez wince a grin at his friend's impeccable good taste and knowledge of a fine liquor.
All the time Scott was working as quickly as he could, arranging the pads around the exposed bone without touching it. Holding the pads in place carefully with his outstretched fingers, Scott reached for the wound dressing and placed the large pad over the top of the bone and surrounding pads, effectively covering the exposed bone and wound completely without putting any pressure on the bone, ensuring that it was covered from infection, which is one of the risks of an open fracture.
"Anyways…..'he was comin down into 100 enemy soldiers…..decided he would drink the bottle of Scotch'……well he didn't wanna waste it, did he!" Scott continued telling his tale with great gusto. "Well…'old Uncle Bob, he took out 70 of the enemy with the Hueys machine guns…..when he landed...he jumped into the back….took out another 20 of the enemy with the door gun till all the bullets were gone'." It seemed to be working. Jez was captivated and couldn't wait to hear what happened to old Uncle Bob.
Scott continued dressing his leg as he talked. Holding everything in place gently with one hand he wound the bandage roll around and under his leg, bringing it over the pad. Once it was securely in place Scott continued to roll the bandage round his leg until the wound was covered and secure, fixing the end in place with a bandage grip.
"Then old Uncle Bob….he just jumped outta there….took out the last 10 with his bare hands," Scott went on, speaking as though in admiration. Jez narrowed his eyes suspiciously at such a seemingly impossible feat and wondering what the punch line was going to be.
By now Scott had finished the dressing; he looked to Jez and nodded. "Now I just need to splint it," Scott told him, giving him an encouraging smile. Giving Jez something else to focus on, while he finished his story, Scott asked him to hold the two sticks on either side of his leg and taking the parachute strips he first used some of them to pad between the sticks at his knee and ankle then used the rest to tie round his leg, either side of the fracture site, holding the sticks firmly in place. With the strip he used at his ankle he cradled Jez's heel, still with his boot on, in the material then wound it over in a cross-over fashion and tied it off, effectively holding his foot at a right angle to his leg.
"And the…morale of that little gem…is!" Jez inquired, after taking the stick out of his mouth and wincing every so often as he watched Scott splint his leg.
"Yeah….'teacher asks the kid….and what morale did your daddy give you from that little story…..kid says……Don't ever mess with Uncle Bob when he's bin drinkin!" Scott finished off quite seriously.
Scott closed up the Packs and, hunkered on one knee, checked the ties again on the splints to make sure they weren't too tight and for a brief moment both men looked at each other before breaking into a huge grin.
"Aw gee, Scott…..that's funny man…..that's...real...funny," Jez conceded, glad to hear something that could bring a smile to his face in all this. "That Uncle Bob sure was one crazy guy…..hey….mustta bin a Navy pilot, huh," he added with a joke.
"Yeah…..reckon he mustta been," Scott agreed with a grin. "Hey buddy…how ya doin?" he asked, trying now not to look too worried as he looked up at Jez who had just laid his head back against the tree to rest.
"Yeah….I'm good," Jez replied, giving his friend a weak grin and grateful that the morphine was kicking in.
"Well….that's as good as I can make it for you….we'll get packed up and have a look at the map...see where we can get picked up. I'll radio our position….then we'll be on our way," Scott said with cool, calm decisiveness. "Oh but first….we gotta get you lookin your best….gotta get your make-up on," he added with forced cheerfulness, in the hope of drawing a faint smile from his friend. Scott set about applying the camouflage to Jez's face. "There…..you look almost as good as I do."
He next pulled the small survival radio out of his Survival Vest along with the datapad map and bringing up the location they were in Scott swept his eyes expertly over the information. He punched in another sequence, bringing up a more detailed and close-up map of the area. He frowned slightly then nodded. "I think I got us an LZ……it's a good clearing for a Huey……about 7-8 klicks south of here," Scott informed Jez.
Jez frowned. Normally, that distance would be nothing to them, they were both fit guys but he knew the extent of his injury and he knew there was something about Scott that he wasn't letting on and as well as that the heat and humidity was sapping both their strengths. He had a feeling, though, he knew what Scott was going to say. "Scott…..I'm not gonna be able to walk…..maybe…..maybe you should leave me here….go get help…..and come back for me," Jez offered, not that he was looking forward to being out here by himself but he couldn't see any other way.
"That's not an option, buddy……I'm gonna carry you…….," Scott said determinedly.
"But Scott…..," Jez started to protest.
"I'm not leavin you, Lieutenant…….so can it…..and that's an order. Besides…..you owe me a beer," Scott repeated determinedly then added a wry grin.
Jez fought hard to bite back the emotion he felt welling inside him, knowing that his friend wouldn't even consider leaving him, though he knew he was going to be a burden.
Scott set the earpiece of his radio into his ear, switched it on and accessed the secure frequency. The small radio also had the advantage of being a GPS Receiver, Global Positioning System, so once Scott accessed his Base they would be able to pinpoint their location. "Wolf's Lair…..Wolf's Lair…..this is Timber Wolf……I repeat…..Wolf's Lair…..this is Timber Wolf," Scott said, hoping that his signal was going to be able to penetrate the jungle canopy. Jez, too, waited with bated breath, though he wouldn't be able to hear the reply.
"Timber Wolf….this...is the Lair…..readin you Lima Charlie…..what is your current status?" Base answered, much to Scott's relief. Jez guessed he had got through when he saw his friend sigh with relief and hope filled him that maybe they would get out of this.
Wolf's Lair….Wolf's Lair…..The pack is intact…..I repeat…..the pack is intact……..intendin to check out a new huntin ground…..cus this little pack would really like to head back to the Lair……co-ordinates are….Sector 8.…Delta 6….Tango 9er," Scott informed Base, telling them by code that he had found his colleague and were moving to an LZ where they would really, really like to be picked up from and go home. "Figure this little pack's gonna be howlin at the moon twice……I repeat……howlin at the moon twice," he added, signifying how long Scott thought it was going to take them. With the moon indicating night and howling at it twice Scott was saying it was going to take them two nights journey to make it to the LZ because of having to hide out mostly during daylight hours.
"That's a copy Timber Wolf…….that's a copy……we've got a fix on your position," Base acknowledged in the usual nasal tone that comes over the radio frequency. "……..the rest of the pack's been kinda lonely without ya….and get this…..Momma Wolf's been spittin bullets and snarlin big time at ole Grandma Wolf for pullin her prize pup's teeth……Wolf's Lair…out," Base added, giving Scott cause to half-heartedly smile.
(Author's Note: Oh…you want to know what that last bit of code was all about. Well….Momma Wolf is the Squadron Commander and ole Grandma Wolf is the big chief Base Commander and her prize pup! Well, of course, that's Lieutenant Scott Tracy and it all referred to the fact that the Squadron Commander was rather strongly voicing his opinion to the Base Commander over the beaurocratic debacle that allowed Lt Tracy to fly reconn unarmed, without their Sidewinder Missiles. It's really quite simple……once you get the hang of all this code stuff.)
Scott pulled the earpiece from his ear and put the radio back in his pocket, informing his WSO of the situation and what was going on back at Base in their absence.
"Yeah…..well good for Momma…..hope she sinks her teeth in good an hard," Jez retorted, knowing they wouldn't be in this mess if they'd been able to destroy that missile in the air.
Scott hastily set about hiding Jez's chute and things, destroying his helmet as he had his own and since he knew he wasn't going to be able to carry even one full-size Survival Pack, let alone two, decided to put everything they would need from both into the small, lightweight backpack that was inside, comprising such essentials as water, dried food rations, dressings and such. The Survival Packs actually had incorporated into them a full-size inflatable raft should the airmen be unfortunate enough to come down in the ocean, and since they were nowhere near water it seemed pretty pointless to burden themselves with something that was going to be useless. Once Scott had everything he thought was useful and as much as he could carry he hid the Packs as well.
Hunkering down Scott checked Jez's splint and dressing one last time before they prepared to move out. That was when they heard it, a crunching of the leaf litter that adorned the jungle floor. Scott had been tiring and had allowed himself the unaffordable luxury of relaxing his guard; it was something he would not make the mistake of letting happen again. The next moment Scott felt the point of an automatic weapon poke sharply into his left side, sending a searing pain shooting through his body. He would not cry out but Jez observed his friend's face contort in agonising pain. It was then he realised what had not been right with Scott, his friend had been trying to hide busted ribs.
His heart suddenly felt cold fear, thinking that now they were, after all, going to have to put into practice what they had been taught in Resistance Training and knowing that the real thing would be very much different from what they had thought of as an ordeal. Jez also had a sneaking feeling that he couldn't expect to be treated to the best of medical attention. He just couldn't see a way out of this one, especially when he saw Scott start to slowly rise to his feet, his left hand in the air in a seemingly submissive gesture of surrender. But then, he hadn't figured on what would happen next.
