Hour Three
The following takes place between 2:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.
02:01:21
"This is Tracy One calling Thunderbird 5. Come in, John."
"Thunderbird 5 here. Am patching you in with Mobile Control and Base now."
"Fine. Scott? You read me?"
"Strength 5, Father."
"How's it looking over there?"
"Not good, Dad. Not good at all. There are so many people that need our help...but we're only four strong."
"I know, son. I know. But John says our agents from the world over are on their way to help. You'll soon have more hands than you know what to do with. Prioritize and set Virgil and the others on those who need you the most."
"F.A.B. How about Tin-Tin and Gordon? Anything yet?"
"Father!" John broke in. "Tin-Tin's signal is moving. It's moving!"
"Yes," Ruth interjected from Tracy Island, "I'm picking that up, too."
"Where is it headed, son?"
"Due north of where she crash-landed. It must mean she's okay."
"I certainly hope that's what it means," Jeff replied grimly.
"Jeff..."
Kyrano and Jeff exchanged glances. They'd never heard Ruth Tracy hesitate so.
"Mother? What is it?"
"Oh, no."
"What, Grandma?" Scott asked.
"John, are you picking this up?"
"Picking what u-oh. Yes."
"For heaven's sake, what is it?" Jeff barked.
"Patching it through now, Father."
Everyone listened as Ned Cook's voice came over the airwaves.
"...received a second communication from the man calling himself Acronym, the man who claims responsibility for laying waste to the capital of the United States. In this second call, Acronym has reaffirmed his involvement in the attack, and has given the world an ultimatum: if the members of International Rescue do not reveal their true identities, more death and destruction will occur. Southern California will suffer the next attack in exactly 22 hours. 24 hours after that, New York City. He has threatened that he shall continue attacking humanity the world 'round unless his demands are met."
Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, and then reopened them. Ned's voice continued.
"And there is something else. To ensure International Rescue's full compliance, Acronym has informed this station that he is currently holding two members of the outfit hostage, a man and a woman."
"Oh, no," Scott breathed. "Tin-Tin."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know, I had the great fortune to have my life saved by International Rescue. If not for them, I would not be here with you on this most tragic day. As many of you out there know, after my harrowing experience in New York City, I began putting together a network of those whose lives have been saved by International Rescue. Our group is called International Rescuees, and now numbers almost three-quarters of a million victims and their families. I think I can speak for each and every person International Rescue has saved when I say, we stand behind you. If you need our help, you know how to contact us. The world needs you. And the world will not abandon you."
"Boy, he's sure going out on a limb talking like that," Scott said.
"Yes, he is, son. He's made himself a target, the stubborn fool."
"Dad..."
"What is it, Scott?"
"Well...Ned just told the whole world that D.C. was destroyed because Acronym wants us to reveal our identities."
"Well, what is it you're worried about?" Ruth asked.
"It's not gonna take too much for the families and friends of those killed here in Washington to start blaming us for this attack. If they do, we may not be such a welcomed sight around here. I wish that Ned Cook had kept his mouth shut!"
"I think what he's done is courageous," Ruth interjected. "And I think we should take him up on his offer. Three-quarters of a million people, Jeff. Between them and our agents, this Acronym doesn't stand a chance. The public won't have enough time to be angry at us."
"But there's still Gordon and Tin-Tin," John reminded them. "What about them? If Acronym discovers we're trying to flush him out rather than give ourselves up, he'll kill them for sure."
"Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said, trying to recover from having just found out his daughter was being held hostage. "What shall we do?"
Jeff's mind was racing as the jet sped toward New Zealand. What could he do? John was right. If Acronym could kill so many people at once in D.C., he would certainly have no qualms killing two more. And yet, his mother was right as well. So many people offering to help, people who wanted to give something back to those who had helped them. How could he refuse such generosity? For the first time since they had begun operating, International Rescue needed help themselves.
It was an agonizing decision Jeff had to make, but when he did, his heart was at one with his mind. As Tracy One began veering away from New Zealand, he said, "John, get hold of Ned Cook. Arrange for a meeting near Los Angeles, somewhere with some privacy. We're going to get some help on this."
"F.A.B."
"Virgil, Brains and Alan are arriving in 20 minutes. I'll brief them."
Jeff heard other voices coming through from Mobile Control. "Scott? Who's there?"
He could hear the smile in Scott's voice as he replied, "Everyone, Father. Our agents. I'd say three hundred people just swarmed in."
Jeff smiled in return. "All right, then. I guess I don't need to worry about you winding up on the wrong end of a rotten egg. You should have what you need on your end. Leave Gordon and Tin-Tin to us."
"Okay, Father. Good luck."
"You, too, son. You, too."
02:16:06
Having dozed off, Gordon started as he began to feel like he was falling. He tumbled backward as the door to the room he was in was thrown open. Gruff hands picked him up and threw him back inside before he was even fully awake. He heard a familiar voice cry out his name.
"Tin-Tin?" he said, scrambling to his feet. In the confusion and the sudden, blinding light, he could see almost nothing beyond the door. Before he could quite figure out what was going on, he felt someone slam into him. They sprawled onto the floor as his hands reached up and grabbed two arms. They heard the door clang shut, and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking behind it.
"Tin-Tin? Is that you?"
"Oh, Gordon!" she cried, hugging him fiercely. "You're all right! You're alive!"
"What are you doing here? Where are we? What's going on?"
Extricating herself from his arms, Tin-Tin crawled off him and sat cross-legged on the floor. But she would not move her hand from his leg as he sat up next to her. It was so dark in the room. And now, having found him, she was terrified of losing him.
"I don't know where we are exactly, Gordon. We're underwater somewhere. These men, there were four of them, they made me get on a helijet and then we boarded a submarine."
Gordon breathed deeply before replying, "I knew it. I could feel the water pressure. I knew I was underwater. I could feel us surfacing and diving." There was a moment's silence before he repeated his original question. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to find you."
He smiled wryly into the blackness. "Well, I guess you succeeded."
02:23:17
"Acronym," Ruth muttered, scribbling letters on a piece of paper. "Acronym. Acronym." She scratched out whatever she'd written and rewrote the letters again. "A-C-R-O-N-Y-M," she spelled out. "C-R-Y-M-A...no, that's not right." She crossed it out and began again, staring intently at the word in front of her. She played these games sometimes with Brains, seeing how many words they could make up out of his long, scientific terminology. It served to help her neurons keep firing right, she would tell him. "And why would a fellow call himself Acronym unless he meant something by it?" she asked aloud.
"You still at that, Mother?" Jeff's voice came from the console behind her.
"Yes, I am. I'm convinced there's a clue to this man's identity here somewhere."
"Well, keep at it, then. If anyone can figure it out, it's you."
"Father, you should see some of these talk programs that are going on."
"What about 'em, John?"
"Scott was right. It looks like some of these people are blaming us for what happened."
"How can they?" Ruth asked. "We had nothing to do with it!"
"A lot of lives were lost, Mother. Everyone's angry, and they need someone to blame. I just hope we can put a stop to it before anything else happens."
"Father, I've also been on direct link with Brains in Thunderbird 2."
"What've you come up with, John?"
"I'm patching Brains through now."
"Mr. Tracy?"
"Yes, Brains, I'm here."
"Well, uh, given what information John's been a-able to, uh, gather on the objects that hit here, a-and from the, uh, destructive pattern I've seen, I-I think I know what they're using."
"And that is...?"
"The o-only thing that makes sense, is a-a new formula they've been, uh, toying with over at Canton Aeronautics."
"Canton? As in Canton Corporation? In Kansas City?" Jeff asked.
"Y-Yes, exactly. A-About three weeks ago, I received a, uh, communiqué from a fellow scientist who'd recently left the, uh, company. He told me about a formula they'd developed called, uh, uranium trihydrazine, o-or UH-3 for short. He left Canton due to, uh, misalignment with their o-objectives."
"What exactly were their objectives, Brains?"
"They wanted to use the, uh, UH-3 in weapons of mass destruction, Mr., uh, Tracy. Dr. Godfrey refused to be a-a part of such goings-on and resigned."
"Are you certain the ones that hit Washington are made of UH-3?"
"Well, I-I'd know more if I could, uh, take some samples from the area. I-It's not harmful after detonation, but it breaks down to, uh, a very distinctive compound a-afterwards. I-If I find that compound here, I'll know I'm right."
"Okay, then. Scott, find an agent or two with a scientific background. Then get them together with Brains so he can confirm his theory."
"F.A.B."
"Brains, do everything you can, as quickly as possible. And see if you can't get your Dr. Godfrey's help. If he worked on this thing, he'll know more about it than anyone."
"Yes, Sir!"
"John, get on with our office in Arlington. They should know of a laboratory Brains can use."
"Right away, Father."
"Kyrano and I will be arriving in Los Angeles in approximately twenty-seven minutes. After we meet with Ned Cook, I'll let you know what goes on."
"I've got it!" Ruth cried.
Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. "Good Lord, Mother! What've you got?"
"I've got it, Jeff! I know what Acronym stands for! My Acorn!"
"My Acorn?" Kyrano asked, frowning. "What does that mean?" He looked down at the steering yoke and noticed his friend's hands were gripping it a little too hard. He then looked up at his face. It had gone white. "Mr. Tracy?"
"It can't be," Jeff whispered. "Mother, it can't be."
"It makes sense, Jeff! It makes perfect sense!"
Jeff's mind flashed back to high school. It was his senior year, and he'd been looking forward to joining the Air Force, to escaping life as a farmer and heading off for more exciting adventures. During the summer, a family had moved into a newly built house about eight miles from the Tracy farm. The Cantons were well to do. Michael Canton had just severed a long tenure with NASA as the head of their Research and Development division. He'd moved his family to Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas so Mr. Canton could begin his own aerospace company fairly cheaply.
Jeff recalled that Michael's wife Jenny had been a beautiful woman, but very flighty and somewhat dingy, to his way of thinking. They had one child, Michael Canton II. An eighteen-year old himself, he'd transferred into Thomas Jefferson High School. As the only new person in a class full of kids who'd known each other practically their whole lives he was, almost by necessity, an outsider, and made very few friends. Of course, the fact that he acted like a rich, spoiled brat did nothing to endear him to the grass roots students of Jefferson High.
Warm, open and friendly, Jeff had attempted several conversations with Michael, but found him aristocratic and full of himself. He'd continued, however, to try and include the young man in various parties and gatherings throughout their senior year. Michael usually managed to make himself disliked almost from the moment he arrived, so eventually Jeff stopped inviting him.
When Michael realized he was being shut out, he began showing up at the Tracy Farm at all hours of the day and night. At first, Ruth had felt sorry for him, and tried to be nice to him, inviting him over for dinner and encouraging Jeff to take him fishing. Michael, however, did nothing but use Jeff's parents, and after several unfriendly altercations, Jeff and his mother had a discussion about the young man, during which Jeff had called Michael an "A-hole". Ruth's stern reply had been, "A-corn, dear. Acorn." Young Jeff had laughed and from that day on he'd referred to Michael Canton II as My Acorn.
It also didn't help matters that as soon as Michael the 2nd had met Lucille, he'd wanted her. Michael's father was the mighty conqueror type...if he wanted something he just took it. His son worked the same angle with Lucy, but she wanted no part of him. So no matter how hard he tried, both with girls and with anything else in his life, he couldn't live up to his father's expectations.
About halfway through their senior year, now no longer on speaking terms thanks to a knockdown drag-out fight about Lucille, an incident occurred which burned whatever shell of a bridge had remained between Michael and Jeff. Due to his bad luck with girls, a rumor had begun circulating around Jefferson High that Michael was gay. When he was eventually confronted about it by a group of guys from the football team, he was so embarrassed that he'd missed an entire week of school.
The worst part was he'd been certain Jeff was behind it, when in actuality nothing could've been further from the truth. For the last two months of school, as the rest of the class ostracized him, Michael did everything he could think of to get Jeff expelled. He was determined to ruin Jeff's chances with the Air Force. He even went so far as to engineer a prank that sent Jefferson High's principal to the hospital with a broken leg. He'd planted evidence pointing to Jeff Tracy as the prime suspect, but eventually Jeff and his friends had found proof to the contrary, and two weeks before graduation, Michael Canton II found himself expelled from high school with no chance at getting his diploma.
Jeff knew Michael had never forgiven him for that, but he also knew that he hadn't needed his diploma. After his expulsion, he worked for his father for six years until the elder Canton died of a heart attack. My Acorn then took over Canton Corporation, which had grown considerably, and he'd been at its helm ever since.
Years later luck, or lack thereof, found Jeff Tracy forming an aeronautics company to try and get a fresh start for his family a year after the death of his wife. The more successful the company became, and the more wealth Jeff acquired, the more Michael Canton II hated him. Jeff vividly remembered the one run-in he'd had with him at the very lecture in Paris where he'd asked Brains to become Chief Engineer for International Rescue.
Frustrated and angry with himself for being unable to live up to his father's reputation, and with the additional slap in the face that Jeff himself wound up marrying Lucille, Michael's anger and ire had focused on the man he felt thwarted him. That primordial soup of misplaced hatred cooked and boiled within Michael, who vowed that one day he would take his revenge on Jefferson Tracy. That, he told himself, would just show his dead but still overbearing father how ruthless he could be.
Michael was less-than-kind after the lecture and accused Jeff of going into the same business as he just to bring him down. In addition, the rumors of his homosexuality, which he still blamed Jeff for, had caused more than their fair share of trouble for him throughout his life. Jeff insisted he'd had nothing to do with any of it, but Michael had gone on and on about how Jeff wanted what he had, wanted to destroy his life, wanted to take everything away from him.
When he'd finally had enough, Jeff just stood up and said, "Listen, Canton, I don't know what your problem is. I don't know why you've continued to hate me all these years. But I do know that the business I'm in has nothing to do with you or your family, or your companies! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see a man about a machine!"
He'd left Michael Canton II sputtering behind him and found Brains, spiriting him away in his limousine before Canton had a chance of catching up. He'd never heard another word from him. Until now.
Coming back to the present, he cleared his throat and checked the chronometer on Tracy One's control panel. "Eight minutes out from Los Angeles," he announced softly.
"Jeff? You okay?"
"Yeah, Mother. I'm okay. You know, it's funny; I thought I recognized that voice on the vidphone. I just couldn't place who it was."
"It's Michael Canton. Isn't it, Jeff." It was not a question.
"Yes, Mother. I'm almost certain of it. And if what Brains says about the UH-3 bombs is true, that just confirms it even more."
"I can't believe he'd go this far. All because of what happened all those years ago? And Lucille?"
"He never could stomach the fact that she married me."
"Jeff, this isn't an acronym, it's an anagram! That kid never was very bright in school."
Jeff chuckled in spite of himself. "Yeah, but he's obviously bright enough to figure us out."
"How on Earth did he find out about International Rescue?" Ruth asked.
"I can't imagine. He must have been tracking me since that day in Paris. One way or another, he's found out. And now my son and Kyrano's daughter are his prisoners."
"Mr. Tracy?" Kyrano piped up. "Who is Michael Canton?"
"A very sick man. And someone who's going to pay for what he's done if it's the last thing I ever do," Jeff replied.
02:42:06
Ruth looked up from where she'd been staring at the words My Acorn written on the scrap of paper in front of her. Her eyelids began drooping as she watched continuing coverage of the disaster in Washington, D.C. She was so tired. So awfully tired. An incoming signal jolted her awake and she scanned the vid portraits on the wall. At last her eyes came to rest on the beautiful picture of Lady Penelope. The string of pearls was lighting up, so Ruth opened a line.
"International Rescue here."
"Mrs. Tracy?" Penelope asked, one eyebrow raised as her face appeared on the screen.
"Hello, Penny. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mrs. Tracy, just fine. Where are Jeff and the others?"
Ruth sighed. "It's a long story."
"Well, Parker and I are about fifteen minutes away from Los Angeles. You can tell me all about it when we've arrived and settled in. I will contact you shortly. Lady Penelope out."
Ruth wished Penny and Parker were coming to the island instead of staying in L.A. Besides being friends, they would've been much-needed company, for she was getting lonely sitting there at Jeff's desk. Never in her life had she been so devoid of companionship as she had been this last hour. Silence hung like an ominous presence over the whole island, nearly screaming its truth about the dark circumstances now upon this normally tranquil and happy place.
"Jeff, I assume you overheard that?"
"Yes, Mother. I'm glad Penny will be in place shortly. Kyrano and I will probably be meeting with Ned Cook by the time she gets settled. I want you two to keep in touch with John. I'll expect a report on Penny's findings, if she's got any, once we're through with Ned."
"All right, Jeff. Good luck with Mr. Cook."
"Thanks, Mother. I'll be in touch."
02:48:12
With Virgil and Alan's assistance, and the help of some ten other International Rescue agents, Scott made sure the gaggle of people who'd come to take part in the biggest rescue of their lives were deployed over the entire area that had once been Washington, D.C. He remained on high alert, for every ten seconds, it seemed, some agent or other was calling in needing assistance, and Scott would have to check his notes and the agents' locators in order to send the most people there in the fastest manner possible.
The tricky thing was trying to get the heavy rescue equipment where it was needed. Burning rubble covering most of the city made for tough going with some of it, and since only Virgil and Alan were available for piloting duties, that meant only two machines could be deployed at any given time. They'd toyed with the idea of teaching some of the more mechanically inclined agents how to run minor pieces of equipment, but in the end decided the risk to those unfamiliar with their technology would be greater than the benefit they might provide.
So Scott also had the daunting task of trying to deploy Alan and Virgil in Firefly and The Mole in order of necessity. Given that 75% of the calls for both vehicles were dire in nature, that left Scott feeling like he was playing God, deciding who would get help first and, by default, who might die because of his decisions while others lived. It was a role he was loathe to take on, but one he knew was very necessary. Firefighters, police and rescue personnel from across the United States had begun to arrive. At least their equipment, though not as sophisticated as International Rescue's, would ease the burden on Virgil and Alan, and for that Scott was grateful.
Brains had not checked in as yet from the laboratory in Arlington he and three other agents had gone to with samples of debris from throughout the area. But Scott knew better than to bother him. He wanted Brains to work fast to determine if UH-3 was indeed the culprit in this attack. If so, it would give them a starting place as to who was behind all this. Having been away from Mobile Control, and therefore away from the open connection to Tracy One, Base and Thunderbird 5, Scott wasn't yet aware that his grandmother and father had already determined the source of their woes. Or at least, thought they had.
Scott finished up a call with Agent 120, who had discovered three survivors in the basement of a collapsed building on the other side of the city. There was no way for 120 or her companions to reach them, so Scott felt The Mole was needed.
"This is Mobile Control calling The Mole. Come in, Virgil."
"Mole here."
"How are you doing at your location?"
"Just on our way back up to the surface. There were five people down there. One of them was a baby. She...she didn't survive, Scott."
He heard the pain in his brother's voice and it echoed the pain he felt in his own chest. In a disaster of this magnitude, it was inevitable that they'd run into dead bodies, but it was always hardest to deal with when those dead bodies belonged to children. "How about the other four?"
Virgil took a deep breath before replying, "They're all right, the baby's mother has some broken bones, but she'll be okay. Physically, at least."
"All right, Virgil. Good work. As soon as you offload those people, I need you at reference 34-10. Agent 120 has found three people trapped in the basement of a burning building. It doesn't look like there's much time to get them out, so hurry."
"F.A.B., Scott. I'll radio as soon as I'm on the scene. Mole out."
"Mobile Control to Firefly. What's your status, Alan?"
"Clearing some debris so fire engines can get through. I should have it out of the way in about five minutes. How's Virgil doing?"
"He just rescued four people and I'm sending him over to another location."
"Where do you want me after I'm through here?"
Scott looked at his list. Medic Burkhart of Arlington Fire Company #1 had requested assistance in reaching the White House, which was surrounded on all sides by a high wall of flames they couldn't hope to get through. "All right, Alan, I'll need you to head directly to the White House. The engines are having no luck getting through a ring of fire surrounding it. You'll need to get the emergency personnel through and make sure they can get out again, just in case some of those folks are still alive."
"F.A.B., Scott. I have one more pile to get through here. Am going to fire a nitro pellet."
"All right, Alan. Be careful."
"Sure thing, Scott. Here goes."
But the explosion that Scott heard next didn't come from a small nitro pellet. He rose to his feet, gazing at a point about a mile away where a ball of fire rose into the sky. The color drained from his face as his jaw dropped. He reached down and pressed a button on the panel, never taking his eyes from the dissipating fireball.
"Firefly, this is Mobile Control. Come in." His hand began to tremble as he jabbed at the button again. "Alan, this is Scott. Can you hear me? Come in, please!"
The cold hand of fear gripped Scott's heart, nearly freezing it to a complete stop in his chest. He closed his eyes; doing everything he could to maintain his composure. When he reopened them, they glistened in the light of the sun. "Firefly, check in immediately!" Nothing. "Alan! Come in! Now!"
"Scott?" came a voice over the airwaves. "Scott, what is it? What's happened?"
"I don't know, John. I can't raise Alan."
"Hang on, I'll see if I can get a fix on him."
Scott's fingers drummed nervously on the panel. Alan had to be fine. He just had to.
"Scott..."
The sound of John's voice caused Fear's icy grip to tighten, nearly cutting off Scott's ability to breathe. "What is it, John?"
"I-I can't find Firefly's signal, Scott. She's just...disappeared."
"No," Scott whispered. "And Alan...what about Alan's GPS?"
There was a moment of silence before John replied, his voice barely audible. "No, Scott. I don't have him."
"No," came Scott's strained voice again. "No. Not Alan. Oh, god, no. Alan!" Scott abandoned Mobile Control without a moment's hesitation. He barely heard John's voice calling out to him as he sprinted towards where he'd seen the fireball. Not his baby brother, not the one he'd brought into the world, it couldn't be. Alan was fine, Alan was fine, he'd be okay...but John couldn't pick up Firefly. Or their brother. Tears stung Scott's eyes as his legs carried him faster than they'd ever carried him before. He had to know. No matter what had happened, he had to know. Now.
02:58:14
The first thing he felt like doing when he skidded to a halt near a hook-and-ladder unit on the scene was vomiting. For not twenty feet in front of him, Firefly was upside-down. It was bent in the middle, as though its metal hull had been heated until malleable, then twisted by giant hands before cooling. Its caterpillar treads were gone, leaving their black wheel tracks spinning uselessly. The front dozer was missing; Scott didn't even have it in his line of vision.
Seeing his uniform, two firemen rushed up to his side. "Is this one of yours?" one of them asked.
Scott nodded. "Yes. There was an explosion, and now we can't raise him."
"You'd better come with us."
Scott allowed the men to lead him around to the left of Firefly. Noxious fumes permeated the air, making him gag. One of the firemen put an oxygen mask on him as they walked, and when they rounded her front, Scott stopped dead in his tracks. The entire left side of the vehicle had been torn away, leaving the inside of the cockpit fully exposed. He looked down to where a group of paramedics and firefighters were gathered in a circle. He could hear the familiar sounds of CPR being performed and what was left of his heart forced its way into his throat.
He ran the last few feet to the circle and pushed his way through. "Oh, my God," he breathed, dropping to his knees beside a burned and motionless body. "Alan. Alan!"
02:59:58
02:59:59
03:00:00