Author's note – I am indebted to the following friends who have given me so much support in the writing (and punctuation!!) of this chapter: Sam W, Kim and Quiller. Thank you very much. mcj
"THE FIRE"
Part 4
'Sometimes all it takes is some quiet reflection'
Her eyes stared into the fire as it flickered and danced against the shadows on the secluded island shore.
A small, sandy inlet; far removed from the villa. The place where he had first plucked up the courage to tell her how he felt about her. The place they came when they wanted to be alone.
No knowing looks. No rolling of eyes.
A private life away from their roles in International Rescue.
He'd built the fire for them yesterday, trying to appear casual at her suggestion that it would be nice for them to spend an evening together on the beach. Sure, why wouldn't he jump at another chance to look at nothing but stars, stars and more stars? It had been a whole two weeks since he'd been clammed up in Thunderbird Five. He was really starting to miss the interesting view.
"Sarcasm won't get you anywhere, Alan Tracy," she'd frowned at him, kicking at the carefully constructed pyramid and folding her arms in a huff.
"Hey! I just finished that!"
He'd scrambled to repair the damage, his frown now identical to hers. What had she gone and done that for? Couldn't a guy joke around with her a little, every now and then? She should know he didn't mean it.
Then he paused before he stood back up and winked at her, his face dissolving into its customary, mischievous grin. Besides, there was a lot to be said for exploring the universe with a girl late on a Saturday night. Why wouldn't he make the most of THAT sort of opportunity?
"Ow!" he howled in protest to the sting of the unexpected slap. "What was wrong with that?"
She ignored his look of feigned innocence and turned her back on him completely. If he didn't know what was wrong with a sexist statement like that, she wasn't about to explain it to him. Honestly, she didn't know why she bothered with him half the time. Sometimes, he was nothing more than a typical, chauvinistic male.
"Oh, come on Tin-Tin; give a guy a break …" he'd laughed, pulling her squirming body towards his. "I can't help it if my idea of the universe has nothing to do with astronomy."
Then, of course, it had happened. Their playful charade had once again been interrupted by the urgent flashing of his wrist communicator.
"Sorry, honey. I've got to go," he'd blurted apologetically after a short exchange with his father.
He'd left the Island with two of his brothers soon after; instructed to assist Scott and Virgil with "a routine matter" in the Philippines. Nothing major, a relaxed Jeff Tracy had told her. In fact, he'd said, sipping coffee and making himself comfortable behind the massive leather desk; the boys would all be home in time to join them for one of her father's famous post rescue suppers.
"Then I think it would be wise for us all to take advantage of an early night," he'd added firmly, with no particular reference to her. "International Rescue has been in pretty high demand, lately. We could use some extra rest."
She had smiled and agreed with his statement despite the undercurrent of disappointment. Alan's father was astute when it came to the efficiency of the outfit and he knew exactly when it was the right time to make an appropriate point. They were all tired. Scott was functioning on nothing but pure adrenalin at the moment and with Brains away at the conference on the mainland, even she was starting to feel weary from the constant drain on their time and their resources.
But she had looked forward to the fire too, and being with Alan under the stars…
Midnight had come and gone before she was woken from a fitful sleep by the quiet hissing of her bedroom door.
"Alan?" she'd blinked at the shadow in the darkness. "Alan? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me," he'd grumbled, flopping down on the edge of her bed. "I thought I should come and apologise in person for standing you up tonight. Things were a little more complicated in the danger zone than what we first thought."
She could tell from his disgruntled tone that something had gone wrong during the rescue. She braced herself and waited for him to confide in her, hoping it had nothing to do with him.
"Scott nearly went ballistic after the way he had to bring Thunderbird One in to land," he griped. "I swear John's going to be in it up to his eyeballs if Dad ever finds out what happened."
She pulled herself up on one elbow and flicked on the bedside light.
"Did Scott say he was going to tell him?" she quizzed him in a worried whisper.
He'd shrugged and subconsciously tugged open the last three buttons on his shirt.
"Who knows what Scott's gonna do, Tin-Tin. All I know is he didn't need to take it out on me before he gave John the earful. I had nothing to do with it and I told him so, too."
He threw his shirt to the floor and started on his shoes. "I mean…what gives with Scott and Johnny lately? Geez, working with the two of them today was like being in the centre of frickin' World War Three."
"Oh, Alan," she'd soothed him. "They're both tired. There's nothing more to it than that. Things will settle down once they get some decent rest. Here…" she pulled back the rumpled covers and invited him to join her in the bed. "… Why don't you go through and shower and then come and tell me all about it."
Tin-Tin Kyrano continued to gaze into the flames and re-live the hours which followed.
They'd spent the rest of the night talking about the rescue, her body pressed tight to his. He was clearly worried about the issues that seemed to exist between his brothers and before long began debating whether it was "a good idea to talk to Dad".
"Even Virgil's wound up tighter than I've ever seen him," he told her, his voice heavy with frustration. "Something's gonna blow around here soon, Tin-Tin and I'm not sure I want to be around to witness the explosion."
"Alan. You worry too much about nothing." She reassured him with a gentle stroke to his forehead. "Come …we both need to get some sleep now. It's nearly dawn and you're exhausted."
He nodded and allowed his eyes to close to the softness of her touch.
"Yeah I know, Tin-Tin," he murmured from beside her. "Thank God you understand."
Thank God you understand…
When the door banged open during the rescue debriefing, she thought she was doing the right thing going after him. He'd only had an hour's sleep before his Father had summoned him back to the lounge before the rescue and he clearly wasn't thinking straight about what the outcome could have been.
She'd tried not to make it sound like she was siding with anyone when she finally managed to stop him on the stairs. Couldn't he understand why everyone was so upset? He should never have gone into the burning building without Scott's clearance. He'd risked not only his own life but Virgil's as well. That was the real issue, she'd stressed; not how Scott had handled things in the danger zone. He needed to go back inside and acknowledge that. He had to swallow his pride and apologise.
She could still hear the thunder in his voice. Still saw his eyes harden ... those normally warm blue oceans turning to razor sharp ice before he tore his arm away from her.
"Save it, Lady – the last thing I need around here is YOU telling me what to do, too!"
Hot-headed.
Stubborn.
Their argument erupted like a wildfire and neither of them held back. He was being hot-headed and stubborn and she wasn't telling him what to do. She was a member of International Rescue too and she had every right to say what she thought.
"Is that so? And exactly what DO you think, then? Huh, Tin-Tin?"
The sting behind her eyes came back.
An offer to spend an evening together…a fire he'd built for her, himself…jokes, innuendo and teasing …all of it forgotten as they headed towards a final, explosive crescendo…
"It's a bit late to be out on the beach alone, Tin-Tin," the voice behind her suddenly said. "I think you should go back inside the house now before Kyrano starts to worry something's happened."
She hesitated, blinking back the blur and trying to swallow the lump which had suddenly appeared in her throat.
"No, thank you," she finally murmured, without any attempt to acknowledge him. "I need to stay out here by the fire until I feel a little better."
The voice suddenly filled with concern.
"Tin-Tin? Tin-Tin, are you OK?"
The blur dissolved into an unfamiliar watery haze when she felt the brotherly arm wrap around her. No, she wasn't OK. She should never have told Alan that she thought he was wrong. She should have simply walked away to let him cool down and figure the whole thing out for himself.
"Hey…hey…don't cry…" Virgil's words of comfort were awkward. "For what it's worth, I don't feel so good about what just happened, either."
"You're hurt."
He may have thought she was still preoccupied over her argument with Alan but it was hard not to notice the roughly applied dressing which covered the whole of his wrist and right hand.
He appeared indifferent at the observation and folded his arms, trying unsuccessfully to hide the damage. It was nothing to worry about, he mumbled uncomfortably. He'd simply sustained a few burns when he hauled Alan and the kid through the flames.
"You know what's going to happen when Mrs Tracy finds out about it, don't you?" she warned, giving him a rueful smile. "She expects you to report all injuries to sick bay so she can give them the proper care and attention."
She watched him conjure up a weak smile and plead that by the time he went down to sick-bay, Grandma had gone to bed. The last thing she needed was to be woken and asked to take care of a few minor burns. It was no big deal. He'd managed to dress them himself and locate a couple of painkillers to take away the edge.
Yeah…OK…She didn't have to look at him like that.
Probably not the wisest thing to do after a glass or two of cognac but it was too late now to worry about the consequences of mixing painkillers with a little alcohol. The main thing on his mind right now was finding Scott to patch things up.
"When I saw the fire burning, I thought I might have been in luck."
With that, he focussed on the fire.
Not that he supposed Scott would be in the mood to listen to anything he had to say, anyway. Father was usually the only one who could settle Scott down when he was fired up and Father had gone to bed at least an hour and a half ago.
His facial expression hovered between resignation and worry.
Father going to bed so early only meant one thing, too. He was intending to order another debrief in the morning. Scott sure needed to get things in perspective before that one-sided conversation began.
Tin-Tin nodded and agreed. She could only recall one other instance where Jeff Tracy had ordered a second debriefing and one-sided was definitely the right choice of word. The whole thing had been run like a military style inquisition and had been so harrowing she was certain none of them would want to endure the same experience again.
Tentatively, she eyed Virgil's bandaged wrist and then turned her attention to her watch. Virgil had removed his in the fumbled attempt to attend to his injury. Was this the right thing to do, or not? She wasn't sure. Mr. Tracy had made it very clear to all of them they were only to use the specially concealed button on their wrist communicators in the case of a dire emergency.
Unpleasant memories of the past debriefing made the decision easy. She moved to disguise her hands. No, this wasn't the right thing to do and if Mr. Tracy ever found out, he was going to be absolutely furious with her.
But she couldn't think of any other option.
This was the only way to make them listen…all of them…as Virgil addressed the flames…
In his opinion, Scott's performance in the danger zone had taken a lot of guts, he began. Holding the Firefly back to the last five minutes wouldn't have been an easy thing to do knowing one wrong move might cost ten lives. Neither would watching vital minutes tick by without the required information. Having said all that, he also had to acknowledge it wasn't exactly Johnny's fault that he didn't have all the information.
He supposed it sounded like he was sticking up for Johnny and in a way, he guessed he was. Scott had to get his head around the fact that it was Father's knowledge of Giles' engineering standards which had caused the last minute panic over information, not John. Granted, John shouldn't have argued the point like he did; but then again, Scott could have at least filled him in on why he needed the extra information.
Virgil's shoulders heaved towards the stars.
Maybe it was the cognac starting to talk; or the painkillers…
He looked at her and smiled a little. No doubt it was probably both.
Being objective in the middle of an argument between Scott and Johnny wasn't an easy thing to do at the best of times. He ought to know. He was in the middle of them often enough. Both of them had issues with each other and had done since the day International Rescue began.
He'd spoken to Father about it, of course, but Father kept telling him there was absolutely nothing to worry about. The sharp exchanges between Scott and John only happened under pressure, Father said, and merely disguised a healthy respect for each other's skills and abilities.
It was a pity they didn't think to show the same sort of respect for him.
He couldn't believe Johnny dumped him straight in the deep end with Father when he only knew half the facts. For a start, it should be taken as a given that he would never compromise the safety of anyone, let alone risk damaging his craft.
Secondly, Brains had only told two people about the newly developed capability he was about to test in Thunderbird Two. Scott seemed really excited about it and so was he, when he was told. But Brains had made them both promise not to experiment with the enhancement until he returned to base from the mainland. Brains knew how adamant Father was about being briefed on the risks of trialling new equipment.
Thanks to Johnny, he was going to have to come clean tomorrow when Father demanded to know how Thunderbird Two got to the danger zone so fast. He could see the look on Father's face already. Boy, he was really going to get it.
And if that wasn't bad enough, he also had to put up with the fact that Scott refused to respect his decision to go into the fire after Alan.
That was where he drew the line.
He'd been Scott's back-up for a long time, not only in International Rescue but as the second eldest. He knew what made Scott tick, how he acted, thought and felt. He also knew how much Scott loved Alan and how seriously he took the promise he'd made to Father to take care of him, all those years ago.
"But you know Tin-Tin," he confided, turning his head to look at her, "when Alan didn't come out of that building today, Scott wasn't the only one whose heart stopped dead in his chest."
Alan could be a real pain in the ass at times. He could be direct, inconsiderate and selfish. Even so, the thought of never seeing him again was something he wasn't prepared to face. He'd never made the promises to Father that Scott had. The only promise he'd ever made was the one he made to himself. If Scott couldn't be there, he would be.
Today he had to honour that promise.
Swallowing, he squared his jaw and returned his attention to the fire.
"The decision I made to go in after Alan was no-one else's but my own. If it was wrong and Father wants to throw the book at me I'll have no option but to stand there and take it. The only thing I won't do is stand there and listen to Scott say he wouldn't have done the exact same thing himself."
"So why else do you think I was so jacked off at the kick in the ass he was giving me?"
The two of them turned as the voice cut through the darkness. Stubborn and fiercely resolute, Gordon Tracy left the security of the nearby shadows and limped in the direction of the fire.
"Don't start on me. I'm fine," he growled at the sight of their instantly worried expressions.
He warmed his hands and sat down with a grimace. It was five full minutes before he spoke again.
It was like this. It wasn't as if he couldn't take his fair share when it came to getting kicked in the ass. Hell, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't expected to get at least a double dose for the things he'd done out there. Hearing that he'd nearly been taken out by a falling building wasn't something Father wanted to hear when he'd been reluctant to let him go on the rescue in the first place.
But Scott had gone too far with the crack that he lacked responsibility, especially when it was common knowledge that Scott tended to ignore more of Father's orders than he followed.
Gordon paused momentarily to roll his eyes at Virgil's shocked expression.
Oh come on. He had to be kidding. Of course Scott disobeyed orders. He did a lot of other things too when it suited him. What Father didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? It was Scott's favourite excuse for everything.
"What's the matter, Virg?" he went on, sarcastically. "Didn't think anyone else but you knew that, huh? Why else do you think it pisses me off so much when he won't cut his "poor little invalid brother" any slack for doing the exact same thing?"
The word "invalid" left his mouth with loathing.
It was a while before he composed himself.
Scott had no right to call him irresponsible and he was standing firm. Like he'd said earlier; he used to be a first lieutenant. He was more than capable of making a decision, any decision, under pressure. The hydrofoil accident had absolutely nothing to do with what had gone on out there today. The damn accident was in the past and it had cost him enough without making him doubt himself too.
"Gordon, it's not like we…"
Gordon stopped his brother in mid-sentence with a hand held up in warning. No, he wasn't finished yet and he was going to say this. He'd wanted to say it for months.
International Rescue was supposed to be the chance for him to forget about the accident and get on with his life again. How in the hell was he expected to do that if everyone, including Father, wouldn't lighten up? Constantly leaving him behind on the land rescues; only prepared to risk his involvement when there was no option but to deploy Thunderbird Four... Father's hang-up about him aggravating his injuries was driving him absolutely crazy.
With that, he glanced at Tin-Tin.
"And by the way…speaking of my Father and his hang-ups..."
It wasn't often he was deadly serious about anything, but she'd sure better hope that his Father was well and truly asleep before she hit that hostage button on her communicator. If not; she'd be needing a pretty good excuse and soon. Didn't she realise what she was doing?
Tin-Tin felt herself redden as Virgil remembered he wasn't wearing his wrist communicator and riveted his head in her direction. The hostage button? Why did she do that? Didn't she understand the hostage button automatically opened up communications right across the entire organisation?
"Relax, you guys. It's fine."
John Tracy's expressionless voice and tired image crackled to life on Gordon's communicator.
There was no need for anyone to panic or sweat the small stuff about what Father might have heard. Luckily, he'd managed to disable Father's communicator a few moments after it began to flash. Fast enough to convince Father he'd only been dreaming when he called.
"You know there's a lot to be said for the thirty second time delay I rigged up for communications passing through Thunderbird Five," he added.
Tin-Tin instantly looked relieved and said she owed him one.
"Yeah, but did Dad buy it?"
John shrugged at Virgil's impassive tone.
"I dunno. I think so. He said he was going back to bed, so that's a good sign. Told me I should think about getting a decent night's sleep too if I knew what was good for me. And get this one…sleep might make me a little less "disagreeable" around my brothers in the future."
"Hmpph…good advice…ought to take it, sometime," Gordon mumbled begrudgingly under his breath.
John sighed and resigned himself to making the inevitable apology.
"Look Gordo…about what I said …"
He waited for some sort of wise-ass reply to come and when it did it was nothing less than he expected. Gordon could be as gruff as Father at times, particularly when he wasn't happy.
He wasn't in the mood for any sarcastic, Johnny-style apology, he snapped.
"Gordon, hear me out this time, OK? You have no idea what I had to go through up here."
"What you went through?"
"Yes Gordon; me."
"Pardon me Johnny but you didn't go through anything."
"Well, that's where I think you're wrong. "
He wasn't going to make any secret of the fact that he had been terrified when he heard Scott scream "NO!" over the com-link. He'd heard Scott lose his cool before but he'd never heard him sound so afraid. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't help from Five …he didn't want to alarm Father. All he could do was stand there gripping the console…hoping…praying they were OK.
"Fifteen minutes. Fifteen damn minutes, you guys," he ground out as if he was actually re-living the agony all over again. "That's how long it took Scott to pull himself together and let me know that you weren't buried, hit or fried."
Maybe he should have stayed more in control of himself; but anger, not relief, had replaced the terror, the moment he heard Scott's voice. He swore if he would have been in punching distance of the danger zone at that point, he would have decked all four of them with one hit. They had no right to risk their lives like that. He didn't want to be the one left behind to help Father pick up the pieces.
"You guys know I was too young to remember what Dad was like when Mother died but I do remember how he was when he thought he was going to lose you, Gordon. Trying to hold him up and deal with things myself was the worst time in my whole life. I'm still not over seeing Dad like that. Why would you want to put me through that hell all over again?"
Gordon abruptly looked away from his communicator.
"I wouldn't." he murmured guiltily.
"Well that's my point, Gordo. You nearly did. And it pissed me off to hell."
Satisfied he'd made his point; John pulled himself together and moved on.
Look, it was getting late and like Father said, he really needed to get some sleep. There wasn't anything he could do about the things he'd said during the debriefing. He'd said them and that was that. All he could do is say that he was sorry. Things hadn't been going too well in Five lately and today had been the last straw. He was pissed off with Scott for continually chewing him out over information. He was pissed off with them for nearly losing their lives. He was pissed off that he'd been stuck in Thunderbird Five at a time when they really needed him.
Then he started to laugh.
He was so damned pissed off about everything at the moment he was starting to sound downright offensive.
"Disagreeable, I think Father said."
"Yeah, I'm probably that, too, at times, Virg..." John conceded, "…and I'm sorry you have to take the rap from Dad tomorrow for the things I let slip about Thunderbird Two."
"It's no big deal. I'll survive."
"I'm sure you will."
"I wouldn't push my luck if I were you."
Tin-Tin Kyrano found her eyes wandering, relieved at the growing reconciliation. She wondered when Alan and Scott would join them. They both still stood in the shadows nearby. They'd been there from the beginning…both as stubborn as each other when it came to apologising, and by the looks of things, both still waiting for the other one to make the first move.
"Why don't you two come out of hiding and join us?" she encouraged in her husky voice. "We know you're there and the fire's warm."
The conversation between John and Virgil stopped.
Gordon shifted his weight and frowned.
A flash of lightning in the distance gave warning of an impending summer storm.
He didn't disappoint her. He never did. She could read Alan Tracy like a book. She knew the only way he could keep his pride intact was to change the subject and accuse her of scaring him half to death.
"I've never run a beach so hard or so fast in my life, Tin-Tin," he grumbled, plonking himself down in front of the fire next to Gordon. "And then I find out that it was nothing but a false alarm and an intentional one at that."
She didn't smile.
"Sorry."
He didn't smile either.
"You try telling that to my hamstring."
He said no more in front of his brothers. As always, he kept anything to do with their relationship private. No International Rescue, he'd stressed from the beginning. No International Rescue, she had agreed.
However, as their eyes briefly met through the flames of the fire, Tin-Tin could tell he was anxious about their argument. The usual bravado was gone. In its place was a kind of naked insecurity.
He looked away from her, cleared his throat and began to speak to his brothers.
OK, so he was here, all right? But he wasn't going to stay for long. Like John, he hadn't had much rest lately and he needed to get some sleep. Besides, he'd already opened his big mouth too many times for one day and it was time he put a clamp on it. He was sure Father would say that tomorrow.
They also needn't worry too much about what Father was going to say to them. By the time the old man was finished with him, anything they'd done would be completely off the radar.
He didn't understand what had come over him when they got to the danger zone. A kid trapped in a fire and a reckless head. It hadn't made for a good combination. Neither had making assumptions about the timing of Scott's decision-making. He didn't know the delay in going in was due to engineering deficiencies.
"I wish Scott would have said something earlier," he trailed off.
"Scott was too cheesed off to say anything to anyone," Gordon offered in support. "Don't worry about it, Al. You weren't to know."
But Alan Tracy wasn't so easily pacified.
"I realise that, Gordo." he faltered with real guilt. "Irrespective, I made a lot of accusations this afternoon and all of them were wrong."
Then he looked directly across at Virgil.
"And I deserved the rap you gave me too, Virg, even though I didn't appreciate the timing. I want you to know I owe you my life and I'm very grateful. I've always been grateful for what you do for me. "
Virgil gave him a silent acknowledgement with his head.
"Just do what we do safely, kid," he said and then more quietly, "And in future, when you're around me, I'd watch how you speak to your lady."
Alan opened his mouth to deny it. She wasn't his lady. They were only friends.
Then his eyes caught sight of her beautiful face in the firelight.
"I know that," was all he said.
The lightning appeared to be closer and the breeze on the beach had picked up. The flames of the fire were leaping in a multitude of different directions. The storm was moving nearer.
"We'd better put this out and get back to the house," Gordon observed with a worried glance at the sky.
"I'll help," Alan offered as Gordon struggled painfully to his feet.
"If that's the case, I'll say good night. We disagreeable types need to get our sleep."
"I don't think any of us will argue with you, Johnny."
"Guys…I'd like a word."
He stood on the beach to the left of them. What would have been moonlight was gone. The wind blew. The thunder rumbled. He was shivering but denied he was cold.
What he had to say wouldn't take very long but he wanted to say it before Father asked him for his version of things in the morning. If they didn't want to listen, he wouldn't push it. It was no skin off his nose.
Gordon was silent.
Alan said nothing.
John remained on the wrist communicator.
It was Virgil who offered the olive branch.
"Sure, Scott. Why don't you come and stand by the fire?" he invited.
"No, thanks. I'd rather stand over here," Scott replied.
"OK, suit yourself. The offer's there."
"Fine. So what's with the bandage?"
"Blisters. Grandma can look at them for me in the morning."
"Virgil, that's a burn…"
"Scott, I thought you said you had something to say to us."
The curtness in Virgil's tone seemed to rattle his confidence. Apprehension momentarily lined his face. He reluctantly moved towards the fire and stood amongst them. He cleared his throat. Yes, he did have something to say.
No one moved.
No one argued.
Scott took it as an uneasy invitation to proceed.
This second debriefing was going to be really serious shit, he stressed. Father wouldn't be asking for their opinions in the morning. He would stick to the facts and it wouldn't be pleasant. They needed to get that in their heads already.
Still, he figured things would be OK if they made sure the operational matters were kept separate from family business. Doing that wasn't going to be easy. Before they came together to form International Rescue the family factor had never been a part of the equation. Now the family factor was everything.
His advice was simple and if they were smart they would take it.
Facts only.
No crap.
They were only to focus on the job.
He'd listened to everything that had been said tonight. Some of it he agreed with. Some of it he didn't. He seriously doubted Father would agree with any of it. Thank God Johnny had had the sense to cut the com-link so he hadn't been able to hear.
"And while I'm on the subject of the com-link, Tin-Tin…" he said, turning to her, with authority, "…I'm sure you are more than aware of the protocol surrounding the use of your wrist communicator. What you did was out of line. You got that?"
Tin-Tin bit her lip and looked up to acknowledge him.
"Yes, Scott. I understand."
His face momentarily softened.
"And off the record…thanks."
As for the rescue; it wasn't hard for him to figure out what Father would consider had gone wrong. The first thing he'd address was the fact that John and Alan weren't at full capability when the rescue call came in.
"Neither of you had had much sleep…" he pointed out, "…and Father's not going to waste any time asking you the reason why you hadn't. You both know the deal. I know you do. You have the same responsibilities as me."
Alan nodded.
So did John.
The first rule of International Rescue broken: "Anyone involved in any rescue must be fit for duty and alert."
"So, I'm warning you to be prepared for Dad's lecture when it comes and if I were you guys, I wouldn't try to justify whatever it was you were doing."
He glanced at Alan. "Although I'm sure in your case it would be most interesting."
The next thing Father would want to know is how Thunderbird Two got to the danger zone so far ahead of schedule. They all knew there was only one answer to that question. It was innovation. Innovation Father didn't know about and hadn't approved.
The second rule of International Rescue broken: "New equipment was not to be trialled without their father's express permission."
He was prepared to take the rap for that one. He'd given the order. Virgil had obeyed it. The buck would stop with him.
"No, Scott," Virgil interjected. "I won't let you do that. Dad needs to know we were both equally to blame."
"Virgil, I said I gave the order. Humour me for once, OK? It was the only order you obeyed all day."
Then he looked down at his wrist communicator and spoke directly to John.
Now he wanted to discuss the matter of the information exchange. Whether he liked it or not, Father was going to be informed tomorrow that the whole thing should have been handled better.
"It's as simple as this, Johnny," he said frankly to the communicator. "When Dad told me about Giles' dodgy background, the information you'd already relayed about the building stability went from adequate to inadequate in my eyes. There was nothing personal in my decision to ask for more from you. I was doing what I was supposed to do. My job. I needed the information and you should know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn't proceed without it. Am I right?"
A reluctant "yes," broke through John Tracy's lips.
"Good, at least we agree so far. I know Father's going to tell me the delay wasn't your fault and that I should have taken the time to explain things properly. He's probably right but the fact is, John, there wasn't any time to do anything except get the information. You wasted vital seconds arguing. So it doesn't matter what I say tomorrow or what you say tomorrow. We'll both be wrong in Father's eyes."
The third rule of International Rescue broken: "You're there to save lives, not argue."
Scott took a deep breath and looked around at all of them. He didn't have any idea how Father was going to handle the rest of it. If past history was any sort of benchmark, he wouldn't be taking any prisoners.
Three of them had broken the primary rule of International Rescue and that was something Father was never prepared to take lightly.
"Never take unnecessary risks that could endanger your own life."
It was the first thing Father had said to all of them, the very first day the outfit was formed. Even though they were there to save lives, it was imperative they never put themselves in a situation where they might actually lose their own.
And that was where the "job" got confused with the love they had for each other as a family.
He'd taken on board the things he'd heard over the wrist com. Yes, he and Johnny did have differences of opinion at times. Yes, he did disobey Father's orders when he had to. And whether he wanted to admit it or not…yes, what they did to save lives today was exactly what he would have done.
"And you honestly think Father doesn't already know that, Scott?" Virgil queried.
Scott shrugged his shoulders and glanced towards the villa.
"Who knows what our father knows?"
He straightened his back. He looked at the sky. He had two final things to say and he was done. Not as field commander this time. This time he spoke as their brother.
Number one … when it came to who respected who around here, they were wrong if they thought he didn't respect them. He respected all of them; not just for their skills and abilities but also for their tenacity, their professionalism and their bravery.
"I'm not all that impressed with the stubbornness factor, though," he frowned, indicating Virgil's bandaged hand. "I wouldn't like to be you when Grandma finds out you were injured and didn't tell her. Trust me; Dad's debriefing will be nothing in comparison with the blast you'll get from her."
They all smiled, including Virgil.
And number two …nothing was more important than the bond they shared as a family. Father said it all the time. He did too. But it had taken today for him to fully appreciate just how strong that bond was.
Today he could have lost three brothers. Brothers he cared about more than his own life. To stand there feeling so completely hopeless was something he'd never had to deal with before. He couldn't help how he reacted.
"When Alan was born I made a promise to Dad that I'd take care of him, no matter what," he said, looking steadily around him. "Dad trusts me to take care of all of you and has done since I was nine. Don't any of you ever put me in the position of letting him down, again. I mean it."
With that he turned and strode back into the darkness.
"I'll see you in the lounge in the morning."
Author's Note – Now what would this story be without an epilogue?