sorry if you find any of my chapters long, i'm doing advanced higher english this year and have to train myself to do longer stories ect. 'cos they have a minimum of 1,500 words.
Ch. 3
John's stomach growled loudly as he started on the descent. Brains smiled.
"N-n-nearly there." John simply nodded in reply, guiding the plane onto the runway by the Tracy hangar. Taxiing it into the huge building, John heaved a sigh of relief.
"Food," he said joyfully as he undid his belt and stretched. He led Brains out of the plane and they proceeded to unload it. A low growling sound behind them told them that someone had driven a car over for them. Turning, John was delighted to see the Renault Mégane that he had picked out for himself. His brothers had all gone for really expensive, fancy cars, and teased him about his choice. John had simply smiled patiently.
"It runs, it has boot space, it doesn't eat fuel, and I like it," he had said. He hadn't mentioned the fact that one of his university friend's family had owned one that had simply been a bother from the start. John's own one had been very well-behaved so far.
A few minutes later, they were in the busy streets of New York. John had learnt long ago that tooting got you nowhere, and simply turned up the radio. Dangerous Game floated through the speakers.
"You know, this song's really beginning to get overplayed," complained John, changing the station.
"Tin-Tin still, ah, l-likes it, though," murmured Brains, absorbed in a whole load of information about this conference thing of his.
"Yeah, but imagine having to listen to it the whole time up on Thunderbird Five..." John moved forward through the traffic lights. A short while later, they arrived outside the hotel. John parked the car and they heaved their luggage through the front doors, waving away the staff who rushed forward to help. John simply hated people doing things for him, as did Brains.
TB
John stretched out on the double bed, gazing at the immaculate ceiling. He winced slightly as his muscles relaxed; he hadn't realised how tense they'd been.
Just as he was about to succumb to sleep, a soft knock on his door brought him round. He lay, dazed for a minute, before remembering that he and Brains were going to get lunch. As if outraged at being forgotten, his stomach growled loudly.
"Coming, Brains, just a sec." He grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, then went out, anticipating a good lunch.
TB
Brains set down his knife and fork with a sigh. John looked at him with concern.
"Brains, you haven't finished. Are you feeling alright?" The young scientist nodded.
"I'm s-stuffed." John nodded.
"These are pretty big portions. Even Grandma doesn't give us this much."
"P-promise you won't, ah, tell?"
"Tell what?" asked John, confused.
"T-tell your g-Grandmother I, ah, d-didn't finish?" John smiled.
"I promise. She does get worried easily, even about me. I suppose having just one son who had a massive appetite, strong build and a tan would put you in the frame of mind that every young male's the same." Brains nodded in agreement.
"I s-s-suppose I, ah, don't really h-help much, um, since I t-tend to hide in my l-lab, ah, most of the, ah, time."
"Probably not. Grandma has this thing about people living on cold meals. She's actually convinced herself that the supplies on Five are all cold stuff. I keep talking about getting her to come up and see for herself, but there's no way she's setting foot inside Three." Brains chuckled softly, then glanced at his watch.
"I s-suppose we should, ah, be g-g-getting on, John. It's a-almost three."
"Sure." John left a tip and went to pay the bill. Brains followed, his mind already elsewhere.
He was excited by this conference, though he probably didn't show it. He was intrigued by the list of names on the information sheet, some of which he had heard of, others which he hadn't. His own false name, Hiram Hackenbacker, had been sandwiched between two very well-known names, Radcliffe and Meyer. Brains had heard enough about Radcliffe to be very eager to meet him; he'd developed thousands of safety devices, some of which Brains had incorporated into his designs for the Thunderbirds. Meyer, on the other hand, left Brains worried; despite the amazing advances in computer technology he'd made, the man was not well-loved in the scientific community for his well-known habit of leaving young women pregnant and unsupported. That and the fact that he was an arrogant prat. Brains really didn't want to have to speak to him more than necessary.
Once John had paid the bill, the two of them went to the building that would house the conference, only a few blocks away. Although the actual conference wasn't until the next day, Brains had been told he had to register the day before, to ensure the conference was held up as little as possible.
The building itself was one of the many skyscrapers in the area, though more modest than some of its counterparts. An expressionless, glass doorway greeted them. Beyond them, however, was a warm-looking reception area complete with comfy couches and potted plants in every corner.
"Nice," murmured John appreciatively when they stepped inside.
The marble floor echoed as a woman in high heels clipped over to them with a clipboard.
"Mr Hackenbacker?" she asked, ticking his name as Brains nodded. "I'm Stephanie Denver, co-ordinator of tomorrow's conference," she said, extending her hand for both Brains and then John to shake. "Basically, it's my job to make sure everyone's here and no one's in want of anything. Now, I have a few forms for you to fill in, if you'll just go over to the public office. Through that door and first on the left." Brains nodded and followed her instructions. John sat in a sofa to wait.
"Can I get you anything?" asked Stephanie.
"I'm alright, thanks," replied John. He looked out the windows at the traffic snailing by, then looked back, aware that he hadn't heard the clip-clop of Stephanie's high heels walking away. The blonde-haired woman still stood there looking at him, almost nervously. As John looked back at her, she blushed.
"Sorry, I was just wondering... I take it you are a friend of Mr Hackenbacker?"
"Yes," said John, instantly alert. Stephanie nodded.
"I thought so... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"That's 'cos I didn't give it. My name's John."
"John...?"
John hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was worth using his false surname. Then he decided against it.
"Tracy." Stephanie's eyes lit up considerably.
"You, mean, Jeff Tracy's son?"
"One of them," he admitted, cursing inwardly.
"Yes, of course, I thought I recognised you." Stephanie stared at the nearest potted plant so intensely John began to wonder if there was a spider hanging around inside it. Then she spoke again.
"John, I... was wondering... would you like to... you know, go-for-some-coffee-sometime?" She said this last at a rush, blushing furiously. John gaped at her a moment before realising what he was doing. He closed his mouth with an almost audible snap.
"Oh... I'm sorry, Stephanie, I-"
"Oh, it's alright," she said hurriedly, scarlet now. "I understand you might not have time or whatever, I just thought I'd... ask, you know... Excuse me, another guests just arrived." The poor girl hurried away, her heels clipping every step of the way.
John felt terrible, and was glad when Brains finally emerged. The scientist was happily stammering about the people who were to attend, the things on the agenda... John nodded and tried to pay attention, mentally deciding to go to the bookshop a bit sooner than he'd planned. Maybe he'd drop in on the conference a bit later.
please review, i'd like to know what people think. don't like stephanie? that's fine. i don't like her either.