Hour Seven
The following takes place between 6:00 a.m. and 7:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.
06:00:15
The Hood sneered as his cargo jet raced through the sky. He'd been in the air for just under thirty minutes. It had taken him a while to get the right contacts to give him the information he required to carry out his plan to stop Acronym from taking what he considered to be rightfully his. He had sparred with International Rescue since before they'd even begun operating. For over ten years he had coveted their secrets. He wasn't about to let some imbecile interfere now.
His text monitor signaled an incoming transmission. The Hood flipped a switch to download the message and discovered that his contacts had dug up quite a bit of information on the man calling himself Acronym. Namely, that he was Michael Canton II, Jeff Tracy's foremost nemesis, apparently both in public and private life, if his resources were accurate. "That explains why he wishes to cause his downfall," The Hood mused.
As much as they'd come up with, they still didn't have the one thing The Hood wanted: Acronym's current location. Then his radio buzzed, and he opened the line. "I am here," he said.
"Sir, we've picked something up that might be of some interest. A transmission coming from the Pacific."
"The Pacific? What was included in this transmission?"
"It was full of static, but we managed to hear the words hostage, under there and go deeper."
The Hood frowned thoughtfully. Hostage...under there...go deeper. "Where in the Pacific did this transmission originate?"
"Eighteen degrees, ten feet south; one hundred seventy-eight degrees, one foot east."
"Very well. Were you able to locate transmission destination?"
"Negative. The transmission hit several satellites, and we lost the signal."
"Continue monitoring that frequency. I want to know the moment another message is intercepted."
"Yes, Sir."
"So, Acronym, you are either hiding aboard a submarine or keeping someone beneath the sea...the hostages perhaps? We shall find out soon enough."
The Hood knew that even though his cargo jet was faster than most with a top speed of 1,000 miles per hour, it would still be another three-and-a-half hours before he reached New Guinea. From there he would launch his new subjet. It was the fastest submersible in existence besides Thunderbird 4, and he was quite pleased with himself that he'd saw fit to steal it less than a month previous.
"Once I land, it will take no more than ninety minutes for me to reach these coordinates. And then, Acronym, if you are on board the submarine, I shall see you do not escape with your life."
06:09:17
"How far are we out, Scott?"
"Just about an hour, Father, at present speed of .five thousand miles per hour."
"We need to get there faster. I want you to increase to ten thousand."
Scott's eyes widened. "Ten thousand? Father, you're in cramped quarters back there as it is. If I hit ten-k, I'll be scraping your teeth outta my engines for weeks!"
"Ten thousand, Scott. We'll be fine back here. We don't have a moment to lose."
Scott exhaled and shook his head. He knew his dad was right...time was of the essence. He just hoped everyone in the back could handle the G-force okay. "F.A.B. Increasing speed." He watched the air speed indicator as he opened the throttle wider and wider. ".eight thousand. .one thousand. .four thousand. Everyone still okay?"
"Fine," replied Jeff.
".eight thousand. .two thousand. .seven thousand. Ten thousand. Maintaining speed."
"F.A.B."
Back in the cargo hold, which had been converted to a passenger cabin, Jeff and Penny held tightly to their seats while the remaining passengers sat squished together on the floor. Doctors Otayuki and Godfrey looked almost ready to vomit, as they were the only two facing the rear of the rocket. Brains and Megan looked none the worse for wear. Penny and Jeff, however, shared silent thoughts praying the two scientists didn't unload their partially digested breakfasts all over them.
Well, thought Jeff, it'll be worth it if it means saving Kyrano's life.
06:15:20
"Aw, Jesus, Al, look at the glass!"
The fireman named Al, who'd helped Scott when Alan had been injured, grabbed the CB fastened to his coat. "Company 5 to Mobile Control!"
"Mobile Control. Agent 53 speaking."
"Listen, one of your guys is down and down bad! We need EMS here now!"
"Roger that. Dispatching immediately. What is your location?"
"The west side of the White House. And step on it!"
"Will do. ETA of EMS to your location seven minutes."
"God, Aaron, should we move him?"
"I don't know. Hey, grab the kit outta the engine, will ya? We've gotta stop this bleeding."
"I'm on it!" Al called over his shoulder as he raced for a nearby fire engine.
"Tom, check his vitals! Brad, see if you can get into the front seat and support his weight. The more he sags like that, the more this glass'll cut into him."
As the two firefighters raced to obey their chief's orders, two others approached. "What about us, Aaron?"
"Fred, Dave, I want you to gather up a few of the others and see if you can't get that goddamned gas line shut off once and for all! This never should've happened!"
"Yes, Sir!" they replied in unison as they ran off.
"Sonofabitch!"
"What is it, Aaron?" Al asked, running up with the med kit.
"Goddammit, Al. We promised Scott we'd look after him. We promised!"
Al placed a comforting hand on his chief's shoulder. "I know we did. And we're gonna do just like we said. I'm not leaving this man's side until I know for sure he's okay."
"Thanks, Al. I'm gonna hold you to that. I just feel like we failed him. Both of them."
"Pulse is a little slow," Tom broke in. "Breathing is shallow, but he's holding his own."
"I'm in place!" Brad called from the cramped space in the car's front seat.
"All right, Al, Tom, help me hold him steady. Yeah, that's right. Okay, Brad, use your back as a table. Lift him until I give the word."
"Right, here I go."
On hands and knees, Brad slowly lifted himself, his back against Virgil's back.
"Keep coming," Aaron said. Tom was holding Virgil's head, while Aaron and Al were at his legs. "Keep coming...keep coming..." Virgil's torso became more and more level with his head and legs as Brad kept going. "All right, that's it! Stop! That should keep the glass in place for now. Can you hold that position?"
"Sure thing!" Brad called.
"Come on, fella," Aaron said to Virgil's still form as he heard sirens approaching. "You're gonna make it. You have to."
06:22:03
"Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Five. Come in, Scott."
"Reading you loud and clear, John."
"I've got Sir Jeffery on the line. Says he needs to speak to Penelope right away."
"All right, John, patch him through to her compact. Any luck getting Kyrano?"
"No, Scott, not yet. I keep trying at ten-minute intervals. Ned Cook's reported in from LAX. Seems he had to step up and give the folks at the airport some kinda hell so they'd stop trampling each other."
Scott chuckled. "Well, if anyone could do it, it'd be Ned. How are the Rescuees coming along?"
"Like clockwork, he says. He's got five whole planeloads of 'em gone already. Now they're just waiting for those planes to return so they can send out more."
"Good. I'll let Dad know. Meanwhile, I want you to keep an ear out for any communications coming from any place where there's no land."
"Why, Scott?"
"Kyrano seemed to think Tin-Tin and Gordon were underwater. If that's true, whoever's holding them must be transmitting."
"I get you. I'll keep you updated."
"Thanks, John. Thunderbird One out."
"Wait! Scott!"
"What?"
"Hang on...it's Mobile Control. Agent 53. Oh, no. Oh, God, no."
"John, what?"
"Putting him through now."
Scott listened as Agent 53's husky and frantic voiced wafted through his speakers. "...repeat, this is Mobile Control. One of your men has been injured in a gas line explosion near the White House, he's unconscious. I repeat we have a man down near the White House."
The color drained from Scott's face. His hands and feet suddenly went numb. He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, but found he couldn't wet his mouth. Man down. Explosion. White House. "Oh, God," Scott choked. "No. Not Virgil. Please...not Virgil."
06:25:48
"This is Lady Penelope speaking."
"Ah, Penelope, there you are. I've been trying to ring you for an hour now."
"My apologies, Sir Jeffery. What can I do for you?"
"Our task force in the States has just taken over Canton Corporation's headquarters in Kansas City. Local police have been most helpful. We've searched the building, as well as all of Canton's homes. To no avail, I'm afraid."
"Then they haven't found him."
"No. However, I'm pleased to report that we have located a woman who claims to be Michael Canton's personal secretary. She confirmed that he left yesterday afternoon in his private jet."
"Does she know what his destination was?"
"She can't be certain, but she did recall overhearing him speak of the Pacific Ocean."
Penny's eyes met Jeff's at exactly the same time. "Underwater," Jeff said. "The Pacific. That's got to be where Gordon and Tin-Tin are being held."
Turning back to her compact, Penny said, "Sir Jeffery, I can't thank you enough for your assistance. You've given us a great advantage here."
"Always at your service, Lady Penelope. In the meantime, I shall keep you posted as to further developments."
"I do appreciate that, Sir Jeffery. Lady Penelope out." She closed the compact and stuffed it in between her leg and the edge of her seat. "Well, Jeff. Looks like we'll be using Thunderbird Four."
"It sure does, Penny. It sure does."
"Father-" Scott's cracked voice came over the air.
Jeff blanched. Something wasn't right. "Scott? What is it?"
"Dad...Dad..."
"What? Scott, what?"
"Virg...Dad, it's Virg. He's-he's been hurt...injured...in a gas line explosion. He's not conscious."
Jeff visibly deflated. No one could bear to look his way as his eyes filled with tears, much against his will. Not even Penny, who was trying her best to hide her own raw emotions. There was a long, tense silence until Jeff found his voice.
"How bad is it?"
Scott's voice wavered. "I-I don't know. Agent 53 says-" He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "He got thrown through air when a gas line exploded on the west side of the White House."
Jeff's voice was barely above a whisper when next he spoke. "How far out from Base are we?"
"Just under fifteen minutes, Dad."
Swiping a hand across his eyes, Jeff looked at each of his companions in turn until at last his eyes rested upon Penny's beautiful face. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she finally made herself look right back at him.
"Dad, I-I have to go. I have to go back to him. It's my fault he's there. I sent him there. I-I-"
Closing his eyes for a moment, Jeff took a deep breath, struggling to keep his anger and pain inside. Goddamn that Acronym. Only two of his five sons were still functional thanks to that bastard.
"Brains, how long you figure it'll take you five to whip up whatever concoction it is that needs to be taken up in Thunderbird 3?"
Clearing his throat, Brains replied, "I-I imagine we could have it ready in, uh, well, about four or five hours. Barring a-any setbacks, o-of course."
"Right. Scott, get us back to Base. We'll refuel and do a quick systems check. Then I want you back in Arlington to see to Virgil. As soon as you know he's out of danger, though, you get back to the island as fast as you can. You'll have four hours. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Father," Scott replied, the relief evident in his voice. "Thanks, Dad."
Jeff nodded, aware that his son couldn't see it. He'd always known of the extraordinary bond that existed between his two oldest sons. And he knew damn well if he didn't let Scott look in on Virgil, it wouldn't do any of them any good. Not to mention the fact that since Jeff himself couldn't go, he knew the next best thing was for his field commander to be there.
Penny smiled slightly as she took out a handkerchief and wiped her face dry. She mouthed the words Hang on to him and was pleased when he nodded almost imperceptibly. He was hanging on. But for how long? How much more of this insanity could he take? How much could any man take?
06:37:10
They'd been at it for nearly an hour. Gordon had never felt more relaxed in his life. He repeated one thought over and over. Keep beating. Keep beating. Keep beating. Only one picture formed in his mind. Kyrano's heart beating steadily, healthily, beating rhythmically, as it should. Tin-Tin had said nothing in the last thirty minutes, but just as he was beginning to wonder if he should say something aloud, he felt a strange tingling in his head, a feeling that seemed to be coming from the right part of his brain.
And then he heard her. He actually heard her. But he wasn't hearing her voice through his ears. No. He was hearing her thoughts. Although he'd never done anything like this before, he knew...he just knew. Beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy came the almost hypnotic rhythm of her words. He allowed his own inner voice to join hers and repeated in time with her, Beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy.
She'd done it. Tin-Tin had reached that place where she never thought she'd be able to go. Gordon could only hope it was enough to save her father's life.
06:39:27
Dr. Gray rushed to where Ruth was curled up in a waiting room chair. She'd fallen asleep only a few minutes ago, and he hated to wake her, but-
"Ma'am? Ma'am, wake up."
Ruth's eyes popped open and she came to her feet swiftly, nearly knocking Dr. Gray over in the process. "What is it? Is it Alan? What's happened?"
"No, no, it's not Alan. It's...there's another member of International Rescue on the way. I just thought you'd want to know."
"What? Why would any of them be coming here?"
"He's injured, ma'am. Gas line explosion knocked him into a windshield. I'm on my way to the OR now to prep for his arrival."
Ruth nearly stopped breathing. It couldn't be. Alan was bad enough, but now... "Did...did they say what his uniform looked like? What color sash he was wearing?"
"Yes, ma'am. Yellow."
06:41:59
"Kyrano!" Jeff called out as he exited the elevator and raced into the Lounge. He stopped short in front of his desk, causing Penny to run right into his back. Brains and Scott narrowly avoided the pile-up. "Kyrano!"
Scott rushed to one side of him while Jeff went to the other. They lifted his upper body off the panel behind the desk and his head lolled forward. His lips had a bluish tinge to them and his breathing was so shallow Scott had to put his ear right up to his mouth to make sure it was coming at all.
"Father, he needs help."
Jeff lifted his old friend into his arms, noticing for the first time that he weighed almost nothing. It had never occurred to him how small Kyrano was. The man's very presence usually made it something that never even entered Jeff's mind. Now, as he carried him to the sofa and laid him gently upon it, he recognized a frailty he'd never seen before. "What happened to you?" he whispered.
"Jeff, we should get him to hospital," Penny said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He nodded. "Scott..."
"Right. As soon as she's fueled up again, we'll take off. Brains, can you-?"
"Sure thing," Brains interrupted. "Dr. Otayuki, please come with me. We, uh, have to get Thunderbird One refueled and checked out."
The Asian man followed Brains back to the elevator as Megan stepped forward. Jeff looked up at her, the strain of these events showing clearly upon his face. "Can you tell what's wrong with him?"
"Well, from the color of his lips and the surrounding area, I'd say he's had a severe lack of oxygen. You'll notice there's a bluish color to his fingers as well. Let me get his pulse." Jeff rose and backed away; grateful for the small hand he felt slip into his. He looked down at Penny, whose eyes were fixed on Kyrano. Megan touched her first two fingers to Kyrano's neck. After a few seconds, she frowned.
"What is it, Megan?"
"It's his heart. I'm sure of it. His pulse is weak and arrhythmic. My best guess at this point is that he's suffered a heart attack."
"I didn't even know he had a heart problem. What can we do?"
"Nitro. Do you have any nitro?"
Jeff raised his wrist. "Brains, this is Jeff. Nitro?"
"I-In the Sick Ward, Mr., uh, Tracy. Second cabinet to the, uh, left, Bay Two."
Scott was already out of the Lounge when he called over his shoulder, "I'll be right back."
Penny watched him go, and then turned to the three remaining scientists. "Since I know where the laboratory is, I shall take you there immediately."
They nodded, but Penny didn't move right away. She studied Kyrano's prone form, sad for his current state, nearly willing him to survive. "Will he live?" she asked, squeezing Jeff's hand.
Megan turned to face the lovely woman before her. "I honestly don't know, Lady Penelope."
Scott raced back into the room with a small bottle of nitroglycerin tablets. "Megan?" he said as he handed the bottle to her.
"Yes?"
"Would you ride along to Sydney with Kyrano, just to make sure...?"
Megan nodded as she opened the bottle, shook a tablet into her hand and placed it under Kyrano's tongue.
"Thanks," he half-smiled.
06:50:30
Gordon became aware of agitation. He wasn't sure at first whose agitation. Then he realized it was coming from Tin-Tin. For some reason, her steady chant had ceased running through his mind.
After having been in the darkness for so long, his eyesight had adjusted enough to where he could just barely see the outline of her body in front of him. He said her name softly, but she didn't respond. Her anxiety had increased, however, he could feel it. "Tin-Tin, answer me."
Still nothing. He leaned closer, trying to get a look at her face. He could tell her eyes were closed, and she was as still as a statue. "Tin-Tin, come on, say something."
Having failed to get a response yet again, Gordon reached out and placed one hand upon each of her arms. He shook her gently. "Tin-Tin."
Suddenly her eyes popped open. Her mouth moved, and something that could only be described as a squeak emerged. She began to fall backwards, but he caught her, pulling her around so that she was lying in his arms, the back of her head against his chest.
"Tin-Tin, what's wrong? What's happening?"
He could tell she was trying to say something, but whatever it was, she couldn't get anything out but vague squawks. He suddenly felt something wet on his hand. When he reached up to touch her cheek, he found it damp. She was crying.
"Tin-Tin, please, tell me what's happening. What do I do?"
At this point, Gordon had no idea if what she was going through was a side effect of the meditation they'd been doing for Kyrano, or whether it was something altogether unrelated. He began rocking her back and forth, holding her tightly as she began to seize.
"Jesus, Tin-Tin, what's wrong? What's wrong?"
06:56:11
"What is wrong, my niece?" boomed a low, evil voice.
The Hood, having placed his jet on autopilot, sat in the cockpit staring straight out of the window in front of him. A malicious smile had formed upon his lips.
"Answer me! I know you can hear me! Where are you?"
No! a voice cried out within his mind. No!
"You will tell me where you are!" he ordered, the glow from his eyes increasing steadily.
I...am...under...water! the voice responded. On...a...submarine!
"I see," The Hood said. "Interesting, Tin-Tin. Very interesting." He blessed the Demon Goddess for his good fortune. Out of the blue, as he was en route to New Guinea, he'd suddenly felt his half-niece's mind. She was connecting to her father, for a reason he hadn't cared to ascertain before he'd taken over her mind for himself.
Could it be possible? Could she be on the same submarine he was seeking in an attempt to destroy Acronym? He laughed long and low at the prospect. "Well, it seems as though I may be able to kill two birds with one stone. Or should I say...one torpedo."
06:58:51
Gordon struggled to hold her down, doing everything he could to keep her flailing arms and legs from hurting either of them. As it was, he was practically sitting on her as he straddled her body and protected her face from her own hands. The seizure lasted for at least two minutes, during which time Gordon also worked to keep her from choking on her tongue, as he knew often occurred in patients experiencing grand mals.
At last Tin-Tin gave one final, strangled cry before going limp beneath him. He shook her, calling out to her, begging her to wake up, but it was no use. No matter what he did, she wouldn't move. Her breathing and pulse were steady enough, but nothing he tried would work.
Not knowing what else to do, Gordon leaned against the wall, pulling her into a half-sitting position between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder, her back against his chest and stomach, her legs straight out in front of her. She whimpered once, and hope came back to him.
"Tin-Tin!" When she didn't answer, he said it again. "Tin-Tin!"
Still nothing. "God, what do I do?" he said. "I don't know anything about this stuff, I don't what to do! Tin-Tin!" he cried, pulling her tighter against him. "Please! Wake up! Wake up!"
But Tin-Tin would not be waking up any time soon.
06:59:58
06:59:59
07:00:00