Hi, again. Just me. =) Thank you for reading and reviewing, you guys. Thunderbird Shadow, Creative Girl, Bow Echo and Whirl Girl, I appreciate the questions and comments. The short answer is, I'm never sure what's going to happen, until I actually sit down and start writing. Edited.
15
The Chaos Cruiser, between Mars and a massive, tumbling death ship-
The Mechanic had turned, slightly. Not quite facing Scott Tracy, the cyborg growled,
"I won't be going to Mars."
"What?" asked the pilot; half-listening, half still working out how to fly this d*mn crate. "Why not?" There weren't many other places to go, out here, unless you liked pirates.
"Because I don't trust the GDF. They'll try to arrest me."
Without scanners, Scott was having a hard time finding those Interceptors, Thunderbird 3, or his missing brother. Didn't have loads of attention to argue with, but…
"You're with us, Kane. They won't…"
"No," the Mechanic cut him off. "I'm with me, and Horatio's bribe. The GDF will try to arrest me. I'll have to kill them all, and that'll end our alliance."
Tough guy to reason with, since he seemed to have only three settings: stubborn, violent and slyly amused. Knowing all that, Scott tried, anyhow.
"Look, we'll call ahead, advise McCord of the situation, and make sure that he keeps his people well back. Trust and believe, Kane, nobody in their right mind wants… Wait, what's that?"
He'd seen something streaking their way, running lights blinking red and green; like a tiny, fast-moving comet against Mars and that glittering backdrop of stars.
"Your Virgil," the Mechanic grunted. "I summoned the pod."
Sure enough, it was Virgil's ship, moving much faster than normal for a quick-readied pod craft. Something coiled up tight inside of him loosened, just then. Scott relaxed a little, first grinning at the Mechanic, then asking,
"Could you do that with the derelict? Shift its course into the Sun, or something?"
Kane was already unstrapping to rise from his seat. Paid no mind to what was around him, causing those gathered others to spring and bounce from the bulkheads like fleas in a bottle.
"Not alone," he replied. "That one, I helped to build. It knows me. The impactor, I'd have to touch, or get closer to, first. Even then… it's too big for just me."
Scott didn't push it. Would've thanked the Mechanic for finding Virgil, but the big cyborg had started talking, again.
"I'll get your brother aboard. If you lot are headed to Mars, do it in your own ship. I'll stay here, with them." A slight jerk of the machine-man's tattooed head indicated the Hood and Chaos Crew, still time-locked at the back of the cabin.
"No killing," Scott ordered, as the Mechanic shot clear of his seat to first ricochet off the overhead, then impact and lock to the deck. Made a noise like a grand piano, dropped from three stories.
"I'm serious, Kane," the pilot insisted. "No one gets hurt, here. Not even the Hood."
Turning with all the speed and leashed wrath of a penned lion, the Mechanic came within a few inches of Scott and snarled,
"Stop me. Go ahead. Try."
"Dammit, Kane!" the pilot shot back, cords standing out on his neck. Sparkling red lights began to branch and flow through the cockpit, as Scott barked, "Why do you have to push back so hard?! Why is every d*mn thing a fight, with you?!"
The cyborg stared for a long moment, amber eyes ferocious and hard. Then, he said,
"Because sooner or later, Tracy, we're going to be on opposite sides, again. Sooner or later, I'm going to find out how tough you and your brothers really were."
A few drifts of that crimson sparkle had landed on Kane's armour. Scott assumed it was some defense of the Chaos Crew's; maybe meant to stop weapons discharges inside of the ship. Gordon had drifted over, by this time, with that kid of his clinging to the swimmer's back like a monkey.
"You don't have to prove every point with a bullet, Mechanic," said the aquanaut. "People disagree all the time without pulling guns, believe it or not. It's called cooperation. Say it with me, now: Co… op… er… a… tion. Goes all the way back to when Oog Strongfart and Ungh Bigrocks put down their clubs and stopped bashing each other. Give it a try. The GDF does."
Kane shot him a deeply curdled look, saying,
"Not with our kind, they don't. We fight them, hide from them, or get collared and used. Go ahead. Go to Mars and slave for the GDF. I won't."
But, as he made ready to glide past the heavily muscled young idiot and his pet Dos Santos, Kane hesitated. Just for a moment, something that wasn't quite memory surfaced. He saw two kids… part Typical, maybe part Harris, or Beech. Allies, almost. Had he picked up a couple of stupid, useless d*mn kids, once, the way Dumbass had the Dos Santos? The thought unsettled him; making Kane think of Jakarta, where he still retained a few contacts.
"Get out of my way," he told that sandy-haired, muck-blooded Tracy. "The space pod can't dock with this ship unless I re-mold the hatches, first."
Didn't shoot, though. Had talked to them, which was a helluva lot harder to do.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Thunderbird 5, preparing to leave-
John thought about things, as he readied Captain O'Bannon's sleek little ship for departure. Working fast, he'd shifted the mass-transfer generator, implanted one of Eos' remote housings, and added an engine; stuff like that. Lots of work, plenty of think time.
He had a few amorphous ideas, thanks to contact from Jaeger, but wouldn't know for sure what to do, till he got there. O'Bannon and Taylor had both expressed a repeated, private interest in coming along, but John didn't want complications. There were enough people he cared about with their necks on the block, as it was. Somebody had to stay safe, and help defend or evacuate Earth. At least Kayo didn't make any trouble, being involved with some problem of Dad's. She didn't offer, and John didn't ask. Too busy, both of them.
As for that love thing… yeah. He'd meant it. O'Bannon outranked him, and she wasn't easy to trick. She was pretty, and he liked that. She understood him, was patient with his slowly growing emotion, and he liked that even better. Didn't know about the future. Right now, wasn't sure that they had one, but he said, before gliding into the altered Mark IV,
"When I get back, let's go have dinner. I know a place."
O'Bannon smiled at him, reaching up to push his slightly float-y red-golden hair around.
"Sounds like a plan, Tracy. Anything but Armenian food. I have a problem with lentils and khash."
"Um… if it doesn't come on a pizza, or between two slices of bread, I probably don't know what it is," John confessed. "But I don't think I've ever seen either of those on the menu."
"Good," Ridley laughed. "Although, if I ever take you to my house, you'll learn about lentils, and colcannon. And, um… I guess you'll meet my folks."
Maybe that was a test. If so, he wanted to pass it. So, John said,
"Wouldn't know a lentil if it bit me on the ankle… but I'll try to be polite, and I'll bring along plenty of ketchup."
By way of response, she leaned forward and kissed him, saying,
"Come back, Tracy; safe, sound and soon."
In a situation like that one, you'd promise her anything, even if you weren't at all sure you could do it. She needed to hear the right words.
"No problem. We'll have it wrapped up in no time, Captain. Back in a flash, I promise."
Shortly afterward (once O'Bannon had shown him the Mark IV's basic maneuvers) John launched, hurtling for Mars just as fast as that cleverly powered-up vessel would carry him.
XXXXXXXXXXX
London, former U.K-
FAB-1 was a very swift car, whether on ground, or in flight. Parker knew the area well from 'the olden days', and could switch air traffic lanes like a professional car thief (acquitted). He got them from Vauxhall Cross to the Thames' Battersea Reach in a very few minutes, then banked sharply past an old powerplant and abandoned warehouses, to the short, greenish stretch of Battersea Creek. Very little of the underground river still showed, but what there was, could certainly drown someone.
Parker didn't bother to land, just hovered low over that algae-slick, cement-walled liquid apostrophe and shouted,
"We're right h-on top of 'er, Sir!"
Jeff nodded, kicked open his door, and then leapt out of the car. It was high tide, thank God, so the water was deep enough to keep him from cracking his legs on the bottom. He struck with a stringy-splat, greenish-rank slap, into cold and vegetal water. Saw the girl almost immediately; still in her work clothes, not quite fully sunken. Evidently, the material had trapped some air for a while.
Jeff stroked down from the surface, took hold of her dark, spreading coat dress, and then twisted round like an alligator. Pushed her upward, at that hovering, wavery car. Both Parker and Penny were leaning out, reaching down. Sherbert outdid them both, jumping off the car seat and into that icy-shock water.
The small pug took hold of Zara's wet sleeve with his sharp little teeth, legs going along at a furious paddle. No doubt, there was consternation up top, but the Colonel heard none of it. His ears were too full of the Falcon and Thames' rushing water.
Got the girl pushed up high enough for Parker to seize, and then broke surface, himself. Curious onlookers had gathered at both railed banks of the short creek, bursting into applause as they realized that, once again, the Colonel had done it; gone and saved some poor drunken lass from her tumble into the water. But there… and there… mixed with those happy, video-taking locals, did he see skulking, darkly-dressed men? Did they head off into one of the moldering warehouses? Jeff was too busy sneezing and blinking out water to tell.
What he could see was Sherbert, paddling along beside him with a determined look in those dark, buggy eyes. Jeff took hold of the fat little pug, handing Bertie upward before clambering back into FAB-1, himself.
To her credit, Penny said nothing at all about spoilt upholstery, though he smelt like cold cabbage soup, and looked like the Thing from a Thousand Fathoms. His blue and white GDF uniform was soaked through, and dripping with water weed.
Meanwhile, Zara had been laid out, face down, on the flattened front passenger seat. Parker grunted rhythmically, working hard to push water from the girl's lungs as their car drifted lazily upward.
Jeff coughed a few gallons, himself, accepted a stiff drink, and croaked,
"Is she alive?"
"Yes, Sir," the driver told him, looking up for a moment. "Not comin' round, though. No sign of h-injury, neither. H-I think she's been drugged, Mister Tracy."
"Poor girl," murmured Penelope. "how terribly distressing for her. Had we not come along when we did, she might have been swept to the Thames and drowned, presumed to have fallen in whilst inebriated."
"H-If she was found at all, Milady," said Parker, who left off pushing the girl's back when she coughed up a lungful of greenish-dark water, and moaned. "Shall we take 'er to the 'ospital, then?"
"No," Jeff decided. "Under the circumstances, better not. Chancellor Shaw has a very long reach."
Penelope's delicate brows lifted. Rather sharply, she said,
"His reach does not extend into Creighton-Ward manor, Jeffery. Low, grubby politics shall ever be bested by worthy, aristocratic prestige. Parker, home, if you please. You are quite welcome to stay with us as well, Colonel," she added, over Parker's swift,
"Yes, Milady."
As FAB-1 cut away from the shimmering Thames, Jeff considered. He could always summon an air-car from the motor pool, or work remotely… if he wanted to risk being ordered back to Shaw's office.
"Thank you, Penny. I believe I'll take you up on your offer, for the time being. There's an appointment I need to keep, up near Edinburgh, two days from now. I want to be sure that nothing prevents me from getting there, including Chancellor Shaw."
Lady Penelope briefly stopped toweling off Sherbert, who seemed remarkably pleased with his own daring and dash.
"Hush, Bertie… yes, Dearest, Mummy was most impressed with her little man's courage." Turning from the sodden pug to her paramour's dripping-wet father, she remarked, "Scotland's gone frightfully wild, Colonel. There are things stalking the ruins of Edinburgh that are every bit as fierce as the man-hunter which IR destroyed."
Jeff nodded, thinking: 'Yes, I know. Those are the ones I'm headed out there to meet with.'
Aloud, he said only,
"I'll be careful, Penny. But someone's requested a… council, of sorts, and I've got a very strong feeling that I have to show up. I think that we're going to need help."