Hour Thirteen
The following takes place between 12:00 p.m. and 1:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed.
12:00:13
"...it's hard to believe I know. Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you just tuning in, you are watching a live feed from a local television station in Fiji. There's been an explosion of some sort, an atomic explosion. You can see the cloud rising into the sky. We're hearing from this local station that the explosion occurred beneath the Lau Group of islands off the east coast of the main Fijian islands."
Ned stared at the monitor in disbelief. Fiji? Could this have anything to do with Acronym? It couldn't. He had never threatened Fiji.
"One moment...one moment, please. This station is receiving a call from a Fijian resident. Can we put this call through? Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, on the line right now is Loaloa Itau. Sir, go ahead."
A second voice was soon heard. A voice with an accent that seemed strange to Ned's ears.
"Oh, it is terrible, terrible! The destruction in the Fijian islands is catastrophic! Almost every island is shaking, the earthquakes...the people. I saw it...I saw it with my own eyes. I saw who is responsible for this, for such chaos here in my country!"
Phil Epstein's voice was the next heard. "Sir? Mr. Itau? Who is it? Who's responsible?"
Itau's next words stopped Ned's heart.
"International Rescue! It was one of their Thunderbirds! Can no one stop them? Why didn't they just do what that man told them to? Why? Why do my people have to-"
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize...we have lost both the caller and our live feed from Fiji, undoubtedly due to the massive earthquakes now rocking the area. You heard what he said..."
"No," said Ned. "It can't be." All energy left him as he deflated into a nearby chair. "There has to be some mistake." And then a thought occurred to him. The name the caller had used. "Loaloa Itau?" He turned and dialed a number on the vidphone. A beautiful, dark-skinned woman with curly black hair answered.
"Ned! Why on earth are you calling me?"
"Adi," he breathed. It had been so long since he'd seen her...he gave himself a good mental shake. He couldn't think of that right now. "Adi, listen to me, I'm sorry, but I need to know something."
"Always after your story. After all these years, you can't even say hello."
God, but she was beautiful. What a fool he'd been to let her go. What an utter fool. "Adi, please, I'm sorry. I need to know...Loaloa Itau. What does it mean? It's urgent, please."
She sighed, shaking her head. "Ned Cook, you will never change. Loaloa means black. Itau means friend. Why?"
His face changed from soft remembrance to confusion as his mind considered her words. "Black friend?"
"Yes. Why are you asking?"
"You're not watching WNN?"
"Oh, no," she said slyly. "I never watch anything but NTBS."
"Very funny, Adi. That's the name of a guy who called WNN," he explained, not wanting to get into the specifics of what was happening in Adi's homeland. She'd find out soon enough.
"A name?"
He nodded.
"That's an awfully strange name. Calling someone loaloa itau in Fiji is like calling someone a backstabber here in the States. Like a false friend. Ned, what's going on?"
"Adi, I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll call you." Before she could even reply, he'd severed the line. "Backstabber...false friend...it couldn't be. Could it?"
He turned an ear back to the television screen in time to hear Phil say, "Could International Rescue be responsible for this? If so, how? I didn't get the chance to ask this man why he thought International Rescue was involved. Should we believe Loaloa Itau's words? Should International Rescue just give themselves up? Even if they aren't to blame for what's happening now in Fiji, what right have they to put peoples' lives in danger for the sake of their own supposed security? Stay tuned to WNN for further developments."
"That stupid, opinionated, ignorant, sonofa-!" Ned sprang from his chair, knocking it over in the process. He began pacing the floor as a handful of people milled about, staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "There has to be something I can do!" he mumbled. "It's all falling apart. It's all falling apart! They didn't cause that explosion. They couldn't have!"
He walked the floor and walked the floor until at last a woman in her fifties approached him. "Mr. Cook?" He stopped in mid-stride and stared blankly at her. "Mr. Cook? I'm Rose Turner, a fellow IRee. What's happened?"
Ned just shook his head. His throat seemed to have tightened. He felt so helpless. So damned helpless.
"We just arrived, Mr. Cook. Me and my son Barry. We, uh, we came by hydrofoil."
That got Ned's attention. "Hydrofoil?" he repeated. "How fast does it go?"
"Uh, I don't know for sure. Barry! Barry, come over here!"
An athletic-looking man sporting dark hair and a mustache approached them. "What's up, Ma?"
"Mr. Cook, this is my son, First Lieutenant Barry Turner of the World Navy." They shook hands as she continued. "Barry, how fast does that hydrofoil of yours go?"
"Nearly three hundred miles per hour," he replied proudly.
"Barry, Mrs. Turner," Ned said, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. "You've just gotten yourself an assignment."
12:05:27
The Hood thanked the spirits for his good luck. Thunderbird 4 had gotten away, but he'd escaped unharmed, and the sub holding the hostages was now damaged and, more than likely, taking on water. That meant chaos on board, which meant he could now carry out his plans.
He suited up and exited the airlock of his sub, which he'd brought to rest on the other side of the mountain again. The ocean bed shook beneath him, but he gave not one single thought to what that meant for the islands of Fiji. He rounded a crag in the rock and headed for the downed sub. Now was his moment of triumph. He could almost taste success.
He didn't see the small shadow descending a few hundred yards away.
12:07:12
"Father!"
"John, tell me what I think just happened, didn't."
"Father, I-I-yes, yes, the torpedo, it's hit the continental shelf beneath the Laus. But Dad, the news!"
"News? What news?"
"It's bad, Dad, it's real bad. Some guy from Fiji got on the line and said International Rescue was to blame for what's happened over there. Phil Epstein's yanking everyone's chains that we're responsible!"
"He's what?"
"Oh, Jeff, no," Penny breathed.
"John, get hold of Ned Cook, and fast. Tell him we didn't fire that torpedo, tell him it was the sub holding the hostages...tell him anything, just get him on the air!"
"F.A.B. What're you gonna do, what's going on down there?"
"I'm going back down. I blasted one of the turbines off; she's probably taking on water. I have to get to Gordon and Tin-Tin!"
"What about the Hood, Dad?"
Jeff growled. "If he gets in my way, he's gonna regret ever having heard of International Rescue."
12:12:43
"Well, where is she?"
"I don't know. This is where I was told to meet her."
Scott wouldn't look directly at Megan no matter what. All she could do was lean against the operating table while Scott hid behind the portable X-ray machine.
"Scott, please, I can't-" She was cut off in mid-sentence as the door to OR 2 opened. There stood a full-fledged nurse, white uniform, hat and all...with a gun in her hand. Megan froze, suddenly afraid.
"You Dr. Crawford?" the nurse asked. Megan nodded. "Joanna Franklin. Come with me. We have to hurry."
Having no idea what Scott was or wasn't up to, Megan scurried out of the room with Nurse Franklin. They headed for the elevator as Franklin put the gun into her uniform pocket. "Canton's real generous with the payouts, isn't he?" she said.
"Canton?" Megan said as they stepped into the elevator.
"Oh, he must've used his alias with you. Acronym."
Her eyes went wide and she just stared at the nurse, who whistled a nondescript tune as the elevator began to descend. "Acronym," she breathed.
Franklin raised an eyebrow at her companion. "Can you shoot to kill if you have to?"
"Uh," Megan swallowed, her throat dry, "sure I can."
"Good."
Megan thought for a moment, then an idea came to her. Changing her demeanor slightly, she said, "How'd you get this work?"
"Why do you wanna know?"
"Well, I don't know. I guess it's just that I sure coulda used this kind of money a few months back, and if there's a train I can get on somewhere after this is all over, I wanna know how to buy a ticket."
Franklin smiled knowingly. "Oh, it's easy if you know the right people. You'd be surprised how you meet 'em. For example, I met Canton right here. He came in with acute appendicitis. I was on midnight shift."
"And what, the two of you just started talking about smuggling guns into the hospital?"
She laughed. "Yeah, something like that. He had a lotta money, I told him I could use some, we got to talking, one thing led to another and he hired me."
"But where'd you learn to shoot a gun?"
"Oh, Michael paid for everything. You?"
Megan hesitated only a moment before replying, "My father taught me. He was big on guns."
The elevator ground to a halt. Joanna stood in front of the opening doors. "Get ready."
Megan pulled the laser pistol from her back pocket, thankful Scott had decided to let her keep it. It wouldn't look very good if she had to stammer some excuse as to why she didn't have the damn thing. It probably wouldn't bode well for her health, either. Not to mention the fact that in spite of her earlier statement, she barely knew how to hold a gun, let alone aim and fire.
"I don't get it," Megan said as they exited the elevator. "If Acronym had you on the inside, why did he need me?"
At that moment, Scott sprang out of the stairwell, his own machine pistol aimed right at them. In a flash, Franklin whirled around and grabbed Megan, whose pistol clattered to the floor. She held one arm around Megan's neck, nearly crushing her windpipe.
"He only needed you for one thing," the nurse replied, training the gun on her head and staring directly at Scott. "Insurance."
12:16:15
Gordon choked himself awake, spluttering and coughing as water tried to go down his windpipe. He jerked into a sitting position, wiping the expelled water from his mouth and nose. It took only seconds for him to realize the sub was in trouble. Water had risen in the hall until it was nearly a foot deep to his left. The corridor to his right was still dry. He turned and looked at the door behind him. He heard nothing but silence. At first he wondered if he should see whether or not Greg and Paul were all right.
But what if he went to look in on them, only to find them lying in wait? They'd overpower him for sure this time. And Tin-Tin needed him. To hell with my humanity, he thought. Slowly he turned from the door and walked away.
12:18:00
Tin-Tin lifted herself up off the floor. The two thugs who'd been holding her were knocked out, having been thrown back into the floor-to-ceiling computer-generated map behind them. She looked toward the Ready Room as she came to her feet, wondering where Acronym was. Then another thought entered her mind.
"Gordon!" Stepping over one of the thug's bodies, she saw he had a laser rifle strapped to his shoulder. I might need that, she thought. She gingerly began unstrapping it, only to have the thug begin moaning, his head rolling from side-to-side. Undaunted, Tin-Tin methodically pushed the strap beneath its fastener, blessing her father for teaching her patience and calm above all else.
Just as the strap came loose, the man's hand reached out and grabbed her arm. She shrieked and did the only thing that came to mind: brought the butt of the rifle down onto his head. She just stared in surprise for a moment as he went limp, his hand flopping to the floor. "I'm getting dangerous," she said aloud as she made her way to the door. "Now to find Gordon."
Tin-Tin stopped in the hall and closed her eyes. She'd found Gordon's mind once before. Could she do it again?
12:24:17
"All right, Penny, that sub's pretty badly damaged, but she's probably taking water on slowly from the looks of it. We need to get over there. Why don't you get changed while I scan for the Hood's vessel?"
Nodding, Penny headed back into Thunderbird 4's midsection and pulled two DDS's and two skin suits from the hold. She stripped down to her underwear and began pulling a skin suit over her legs. The knife wound hurt terribly, but she bucked up and pushed the pain aside. Jeff needs me, she thought. I'm not going to fail him now. By the time she got herself zipped up, Jeff was knocking on the door.
"Come in," she called, reaching for a DDS. It was with no small amount of pleasure that she noticed Jeff averting his eyes. After all, the thermal suit she'd just put on was like a second skin, conforming to every nook and cranny of her body.
He cleared his throat as he reached for the remaining suits. "You're certain about this. About coming with me."
"You're not getting rid of me that easily," she replied, sliding her legs into the bulky DDS.
He stopped and looked into her eyes for only a moment. "Good," was all he said. She didn't even get a chance to ask if he'd found the Hood's sub, for he had disappeared back into the cockpit. She couldn't help but smile.
12:28:41
Brains toiled away at his workbench, duly noting that with each passing minute, his head hurt a little more...with each passing minute, he felt hotter and hotter...with each passing minute, the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead grew larger and more persistently dripped onto the table beneath him. He looked sidelong where, not two feet away, Braman, his android robot, was mixing together what was to become part of the compound he needed to stop the surface of the UH-3 bombs from eroding.
"Braman," he said, his voice small and quiet.
"Yes?" came the tinny response.
"I don't...I don't feel so good."
"Are you ill?"
"I...I think so...God, what...what...?" The room began to spin again, like it had when he'd collapsed in the hospital ward. "Oh...oh, no..." he said, his voice quivering. "I-It's not...a...concussion...it's...it's...the C-60...oh, no...Braman...call...J-J...Joh..."
Braman watched in confusion as his creator fell to the floor. He cocked his head and knelt down beside him. "Message not complete. Brains," he said, reaching one mechanical arm out to touch his back. "Brains. Wake up. Wake up, Brains."
But Brains did not move.
12:32:04
Ned found himself sitting next to Rose Turner in one of five seats behind the pilot's chair occupied by her son, Barry. They were speeding away from the coast of California. Ned thought at any moment he might just turn green, the water was so choppy. And Barry was going so fast.
"How'd you get your hands on this thing?" Ned asked, trying to forget his penchant for being seasick. "Well, Mr. Cook, I guess you could say I, uh, borrowed it."
"Borrowed it? As in, without permission?"
"Yes, Sir!" he grinned, mock-saluting the reporter. "Once Ma got the call from the IRee board, she told me she had to get to California fast. When you live in Hawaii, this hydrofoil's the way to go!"
"Seems top of the line."
"Oh, it is! Only the best for the World Navy, you know! It's the VDHP16 model, fastest hydrofoil the Navy's got."
"VDHP?"
"Vertically Dampened Hydrofoil Prototype."
"Did you say Prototype?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You mean it's not in production?"
"No, Sir. We've been testing her out for a couple of weeks now."
"Oh, God," Ned moaned, sinking back into his seat and adjusting his life jacket straps.
"She's sixty feet long, ten feet wide and ten feet high. Top speed three hundred forty miles per hour. Although, I've personally never done above three hundred."
"How fast are you going now?"
Barry looked down at the gauge, then shot a smile at Ned. "Nearly three-ten!"
Ned closed his eyes. "Dear God in heaven."
"What'cha gonna do out in the middle of the ocean when we get there?"
"You mean if we get there," Ned mumbled.
"What?"
"I said I have no idea. All I know is that International Rescue's in trouble out there."
"And how do you think we're going to be able to help?" Rose asked.
"Well...I haven't exactly thought that far ahead..."
12:34:48
The Hood moved toward the damaged portion of the sub, whose name was printed along its hull. "Poseidon Seven," he intoned appreciatively. "How ironically appropriate." Upon investigation, however, he found the hole too small for him to squeeze through in the bulky DDS he wore. "I see I shall have to do this the hard way."
He pulled a metal rectangular box closer to his body and opened it up. Inside was something that looked like a blowtorch, but was in reality a powerful laser cutting device. He let the box drop to the sand beneath him and turned the laser on, directing it around the one-foot breach in the sub's hull. He knew that cutting a larger area into it would also cause the ship to take on more water. But what did he care? After all, he was wearing a suit. If the rest of the ship's complement perished, it would only make his job that much easier.
Suddenly he stopped. He flicked the laser off and closed his eyes. He was feeling something...no, someone. "Ah," he breathed at last. "My niece. So, you are still alive." Turning the laser back on, he began his work anew. "Kyrano, my brother. You fear so for the lives of those pathetic fools in International Rescue. What will you do when I have taken your daughter for my own?"
12:37:38
Gordon made his way along the hall. The pistol he'd had before was now soaking wet, and rendered useless. Discarding it along the way, he forged ahead. How was he ever going to find Tin-Tin? He groaned as his head throbbed mercilessly. The last place he'd seen her was the control room, but who knew where Acronym had taken her? And what if he had her now? Without a weapon, Gordon felt despair begin to creep into his mind...and something else.
He was brought up short when he heard a voice. But the voice wasn't coming from anywhere around him. The lights in the hall flickered as it came.
Gordon. Gordon, can you hear me? Gordon, where are you?
"Tin-Tin?" he said aloud. The lights flickered once more before giving out completely.
Gordon?
"Tin-Tin!" he called out.
Gordon, you're alive! You're alive! The lights...where are you?
"Here! I'm here!"
Gordon, help me find you. Please. Concentrate.
"I don't believe this. If I ever tell anyone about this, they're gonna think I'm nuts," he said, closing his eyes. He allowed one thought to fill his mind...a picture of the hall he was standing in as he'd last seen it before the power failure. He concentrated on every little detail he could remember, thinking as hard as he possibly could, doubting at all that it was going to work.
You're...you're in the hall...the hall near the room we were kept in...I'm coming, Gordon. I'm coming!
Gordon's eyes popped open. "Well, I'll be damned. It worked."
12:40:32
Having been forced to drop his weapon and kick it aside, Scott now found himself seated in a small storage closet, his hands and Megan's tied together behind their backs. They'd been working at the knots wordlessly for long minutes now, and both pairs of wrists had begun to chafe from the rope. Finally, Scott spoke.
"I'm sorry," he said simply, as his fingers found the largest knot.
"Don't worry about it. You don't know me from Adam."
"Or Eve," he replied, his fingers slipping. "Damn! I can't even reach my watch to activate the emergency beacon. Can you hit it?"
"No...don't think so," she grunted. "My hands aren't in the right place."
"We've gotta get outta here."
"I'm trying."
"Meg, if Franklin gets those men inside..."
"I know, I know. Don't worry, your brothers will be okay. We'll get to them in time." There was a moment's silence before she continued. "Scott, what he said...what Acronym said to me about Virgil and Alan. That they're your brothers. That is true."
He sighed as his fingers found the knot again. The strict code of security his father had drilled into him...into all of them...kept him from replying.
"And John, and one of the hostages...they're your brothers too, aren't they?"
He didn't answer.
"So Grandma really is your grandma."
Again, silence.
"And Jeff. He's your father."
On the one hand, Scott regretted the fact that their secret was now known to her. On the other hand, however, he was glad she knew. It meant there was one more person he didn't have to guard his tongue around...at least not where his family was concerned. If he chose to acknowledge her statements as correct, that is.
"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I was kinda hoping it was true."
"That what was true?"
"You guys were brothers."
"Why?"
"Well, the way you were so worried about Virgil...you know..."
Scott thought for a moment, then blushed furiously. "Oh. Yeah. I see."
"Well, you know, given the alternatives...what can I say..." Her fingers bumped into his. "Sorry."
"You know, I think we'd do much better at this if we worked together."
"Agreed. I've never been tied up back-to-back with someone before, though. Any suggestions?"
"My sash," he said, mentally kicking himself for not remembering it sooner. "There's a small Swiss Army knife stowed on the inside of it."
"Okay, where in your sash?"
"Right side, on my waist. You think you can reach it?"
"I can sure as hell try, if you don't mind my teeth being that close to you. Hang on."
Meg twisted her body to the left, wrenching her arms and Scott's painfully between them. He groaned as she strained her head around until it rested against his arm.
"God, I think I've dislocated my shoulder," she said, moving her head down until she reached his elbow. "Okay, now whereabouts is this knife?"
"Straight down from where you are," he replied.
She moved lower, using her lips to feel along the fabric until she felt the harder material of the sash.
"About an inch to your right," he said. "And watch what you do with those teeth."
She snorted as she pushed herself forward, knocking down a large broom in the process. She heard it thunk and then rattle to the floor.
"Ow!" he cried. "That was my head!"
"Sorry," she ground out as her teeth grabbed the edge of the sash.
"Yeah, that's it...right there. Can you feel it?"
"Mm-hmm," she replied, twisting the sash inside-out. She moved quickly to grab the knife...and got a chunk of Scott's body along with it.
"Youch!" he yelped. "Watch it!"
"Awwee," she mumbled around the knife in her mouth.
"Jesus! That'll leave a mark. Can you get it into my hands?"
"Mah fink so." Holding the knife with her lips, she aimed for the spot between their backs and took a deep breath. Then she poofed it out of her mouth, and it fell into his waiting hands.
"Eww," he said.
"What?" she grunted, pulling herself upright. She heard the clicking of the blade as Scott opened it. "You'd better not cut me."
"Yeah, well, you know what they say about payback."
"Scott Tracy..."
"What?" he said. And then he realized his mistake. He'd just answered to his full name. Well, I guess she just got her answer. "You're a slick one."
"Just get us out of here. You can reprimand me later."
12:56:25
Tin-Tin moved through the hall, using her hands and feet to feel her way along. She vaguely recalled the route used to reach the control room, but was using her wavering connection to Gordon as most of her guidance, trying to hone in on his location. She sensed that he was moving as well, bringing himself closer and closer to her. Her heart leapt when at last she heard a noise further ahead.
"Gordon?" she called out. When no reply was forthcoming, she froze. Lifting the rifle, she tried again. "Gordon?" Something began moving toward her. She could it see it. Or rather, could see them. Squinting in the darkness, she said, "Who's there?"
The two glowing objects came closer and closer. They bobbed up and down slightly, almost as though...as though they were being held by someone walking. What could they be? Lights of some sort? Was it one of the thugs? If it was Gordon, why wasn't he answering?
Suddenly a figure came into view. A rather tall figure. And the glow...the glow was coming from...a pair of eyes. A wave of panic washed over her as she realized who it was. Realized it seconds too late...
12:59:48
Kyrano sat bolt upright in his hospital bed, ripping the electrodes from his body in the process. His eyes widened in horror as the monitors around him started blaring their alarms in protest at the loss of a heartbeat.
"No," he whispered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "No. Not my daughter. Not Tin-Tin. Please! No!"
Two nurses bolted into the room and were on either side of him in an instant. They spoke, but he didn't hear their words. All he could hear was her voice inside his head, crying out, terrified beyond reason.
"Tin-Tin!" he cried, struggling to free himself from the two women who were trying to calm him. "Tin-Tin!"
12:59:58
12:59:59
01:00:00