dearie me, my updates have caught up with my written chapters! oh wells, enjoy this one for now!
Ch. 12
Scott landed smoothly, glad to see that the area was already cordoned off. He carefully checked the automatic camera detector, making sure it was working. Satisfied, he contacted Brains. Truth be told, he was very, very nervous. He'd rarely had to deal with hostage situations, and even though it was part of the training he and his brothers went and still had to go through, it was something he never enjoyed. There were just far too many things that could go wrong. John had always been good at it, but the rest of them had never quite got the knack of staying cool whilst negotiating; facing someone who was quite happy to kill someone to achieve their own means was never easy.
But John's in there now, thought Scott sadly. And he's probably tired, and there's nothing he can do.
"Y-yes, Scott?"
"Brains! Whereabouts are you right now?"
"I'm in a c-closet a few metres, ah, d-down the corridor, um, f- from the conference room. W-which s-side, um, of the b-building are you on?"
"I'm on the east side of the building."
"In that, ah, c-case, you will b-be f-facing the, um, conference room. It's on the, ah, first f-f-floor." Scott made a note of it. There was a long line of floor-to-ceiling windows along that side of the building, and Scott could just make out the people inside. He stepped out of Thunderbird One and was met by the police chief.
"Have you made contact with anyone inside yet?"
"Yes, and they weren't too pleased," said the chief. The look on his face told Scott that this was a major understatement. "They want to know how we found out." Scott groaned.
"Meaning the hostages are probably in more danger. Any demands or threats?"
"Apparently they're carrying out their demands right now, since all they want is the information and knowledge the scientists have. They are talking about kidnapping one of them, though."
"So our informant tells us."
The policeman nodded, glancing back at the building. "May I ask who your informant is? I assume they've escaped detection?"
"For now, yes," replied Scott, ignoring the first question. "Did they give the name of the one they were after?" He already knew the answer, of course, but he needed to know how much they'd divulged. The chief shook his head.
"They're keeping quiet on that one. All I know is that they're male, otherwise..." He shrugged, clearly unhappy he couldn't do much more. Scott sighed.
"I'm just gonna check how long it'll take my buddies to get here. Until then, try and make contact with them again."
TB
John leaned back in his chair, watching as each scientist was taken roughly from the room, presumably to be questioned. He felt a lot more alert now, but he knew he couldn't take on any of these jerks. He'd always been the slightest of his brothers, and each one was at least as muscled as Virgil, if not more. The other hostages wouldn't be much help, either. These were men and women of learning, not combat. Perhaps Meyer looked like he went to the gym, but the others? Some were older than his father, for goodness' sake!
John wondered what his father would think of all this. But there was no way of contacting him. That's when John noticed.
"Where's Br- Hiram?" he whispered to Catrìona. She shrugged, her face pale.
"Did you not hear them ask for him? They're getting impatient. No one's said anything yet, but-" She broke off, her face clouding with fear and anger as her arm was grabbed and she was pulled roughly to her feet. She tried to wrestle her arm from the man's grip, but he just held her tighter until she winced and stopped fighting. John watched as she was taken out. Beside him, he heard Radcliffe chuckle dryly. John raised an eyebrow.
"They're going to get more than they bargained for," chuckled the old scientist, his face pale and drawn. John tried to rifle surreptitiously in his coat pocket. He withdrew some paracetemol, a packet of tissues, some money and a packet of chewing gum. His phone had been taken off him. Fortunately, they hadn't taken his watch, though John hadn't had a chance to activate the emergency signal. He did so now. Then he handed the tablets to Radcliffe.
"Sorry, I know they won't do much good, but it's the best I've got." Radcliffe took them gratefully.
"Any water?"
John steeled himself, then shouted out to the nearest soldier for water. The man shot him a dirty look, but got the water all the same. They couldn't afford to lose any of the scientists. Radcliffe gulped the paracetemol and water quickly.
"They really won't help, but it's better than nothing," said John apologetically, grimacing.
"Don't worry about it." Radcliffe tried to straighten a little in his seat. "Now I know how my grandfather felt. He fought in both the Great War and the Second. He got a bullet in the leg second time round. Didn't get thanked for it, though. No job to go to when he got back. So he wrote instead." Radcliffe chuckled a little. "Just as well the Government never got their hands on him. He was up there with Wilfred Owen and the like for writing against the war."
John nodded. "There aren't any left anymore, are there? War veterans like him."
"No. He died when I was about thirteen. By the time I was a young student, there were only five left. They've all gone now."
TB
Brains was going frantic. Alan was having a hard time trying to keep him calm. It didn't help that he had Brains wittering from one screen, and Scott from the other. Top that off with the fact that Jeff was listening and instructing all at once, and it was understandable that Alan took a moment in the kitchen of Thunderbird 5 to indulge in some chocolate.
He pulled the first bar his hands reached out of the cupboard without even looking, and bit into it. He immediately spat it out. He stared in dismay at the cream-coloured nuts poking out from the dark brown of the chocolate, and tossed it to the side, reaching for a nut-free one. He felt a pang of guilt as he did so. He didn't like nuts, never had, yet John was allergic. Having your older brother nearly die like that really put some things into perspective, like being fussy.
"Alan? ALAN!"
Alan rushed back to the console. Scott glared up at him reproachfully.
"Where were you?"
Alan waved an exasperated hand at the room behind him.
"I'm hardly gonna have gone far, am I?" he snapped. As Scott continued to glower, he sighed. "I went into the kitchen for a moment, alright?"
"How's Brains doing?"
"He's going stir-crazy, Scott, you better get in there soon."
"Alan, this is a hostage situation. The smallest detail could mean life or death. If we barge in there, those people's lives will be at risk. Remember, they don't have Brains yet, and that's the first thing that's gonna get them riled."
Alan ran a hand through his hair. This was why he hated his rotations on Thunderbird 5. It wasn't the fact he was in a metal can- he would have earned a kick up the backside had John heard him say that- or even being away from Tin-Tin and his family that really got to him. It was having to listen to everything going on in a rescue, knowing there was nothing he could do except talk.
TB
John watched the soldiers closely, looking for any sign of what was going on outside. He'd sent off the signal from his watch, but he couldn't risk actually calling anyone. Their captors seemed to be getting tenser by the minute. They still hadn't found Brains, and constantly asked each male scientist if they were him. John took this as a good sign; they didn't actually know what Brains looked like. Maybe, just maybe, Brains could pose as a member of staff or something... No, John decided, sighing. Brains would be as truthful as it was possible to be with a false name.
"Do you think he's alright?" asked Catrìona, hauling him back to the present. John turned to look at her. She was pale, and was sitting curled up in her chair, her arms holding her knees to her chest. Her eyes glistened slightly. John put an arm around her.
"Of course he'll be alright," said John softly. "I've known him for a long time now, and, though he seems to be on another planet a lot of the time, he's resourceful. They don't seem to have found him, so that must be a good sign."
"Absolutely," agreed Radcliffe, rising onto one elbow. He was laid out across several seats in front of them. "The boy has a brilliant mind."
They were interrupted by a commotion outside. They all looked up, to see Scott stride into the conference room flanked by two of the soldiers. John's stomach lurched.