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The wind complicated things. As always. But at least it was blowing the flames away from the mining complex buildings.
He compensated for the turbulence with habitual skill and glanced over to see Thunderbird Two, currently piloted by Gordon, unleash her sonic suppressors on the fire that threatened to engulf the heavy equipment warehouse. The local crews were focusing on keeping the mine entrance clear of flame while his other brother worked on digging through the collapse that trapped around twenty miners.
"Virgil, how’re you doing down there?” he barked, tension clear in his voice as the wind whipped the flames into another frenzy.
“I’m nearly through, Thunderbird One. Couple more rocks and the trapped miners will be able to get out.”
“FAB.” Scott fought the urge to tell his immediate brother to hurry. Virgil knew.
Besides, he had his own rescue to handle.
Double checking the updated schematics provided by Thunderbird Five, Scott carefully guided his jet into position near the mine office that was barely clinging onto its cliff face foundations.
Locking his 'bird to autopilot hovering high enough that her wash wouldn't cause additional instability, he left his chair and hopped onto the rescue line that would lift those in danger into the safety of One. He lept the last few feet down onto the emergency exit gantry and frowned as it groaned at the impact. Hoping that it would hold long enough for him to do his job Scott studied the failing emergency exit.
Even without Virgil’s engineering degree, he could see that the tremor which had started all this had buckled the building's structure enough to jam the door. He grabbed his laser cutter and made swift work of the locking mechanism and the rest of the frame, then one, okay two, solid kicks had the entire thing lying on the floor.
He spotted two people in custodial coveralls, one holding their arm awkwardly, and waved them forward, ready to secure the rescue harness around them without exacerbating the injury.
“Hold tight!” he told the injured woman then, ignoring her pained whimpers and tightly shut eyes, winched her the sixty feet straight up and safely into the belly of the silver, red, and blue jet.
He freed her and helped her strap into one of the jump seats before going back for her companion. The building shuddered unpleasantly as Scott hit the gantry again and held his hand out to the man who cautiously inched forwards.
Scott smiled reassuringly as the man reached him and could be strapped into the harness. "Well done. You're safe now."
The man grinned weakly back as they rose steadily into the air, "Thanks to you! My kids'll never believe I got to meet a Thunderbird!"
After freeing the man from the harness and settling him next to his colleague, Scott returned to the pilot's seat and redirected his craft to the far side of the compound, landing close to where three ambulances had just pulled up.
Activating the boarding ramp as he got up, he hurried back to assist his passengers, pulling off his helmet as he went.
The man, Peterson, according to his name badge, had already unstrapped and was helping his colleague to her feet. She was pale and biting her lower lip to try and hold in the pain.
With a gentle smile and reassuring words, Scott carefully guided them both out of his 'bird and over to the waiting paramedics who quickly took over and ushered them into the back of the closest ambulance.
Knowing that he was of no further use there, Scott jogged over towards the mine entrance to be on standby to assist his brother.
The wind chose that moment to change direction and he heard Gordon's muffled cursing over comms as the fires he had been able to deal with flared up again.
He saw a building disintegrate in a sudden blue-white flash, quickly followed by a concussive wave that knocked him off his feet and threw him at least five meters to land on his back.
Winded and wary of the rain of shrapnel coming down around him, Scott clambered to his feet and blinked to try and clear the spots in front of his eyes. Mentally kicking himself over the stupidity of not putting his helmet back on and having no time to worry about the aches that were sure to turn into some spectacular bruising, he assessed the situation.
The local crews were climbing back onto their feet to continue trying to contain the blaze, which, probably thanks to the blast wave, had largely abated. Thunderbird Two looked fine, though he could see a couple of scorch marks that he knew would upset Virgil.
Virgil was…
Scott could only watch in horror as the doomed office he had just freed two people from made a sound like a tortured soul and finally lost its grip on the cliff face, tumbling to the ground.
The seconds it took for the dust to settle felt like hours but when the air had cleared enough to assess the situation Scott couldn't help but curse under his breath.
The mine entrance was gone.
In its place was what seemed like half the cliffside mixed with rubble and debris that used to be the offices and warehouses in that part of the compound.
"Virgil! Respond!"
Jamming his helmet back on, he raced over to the mess of rock and twisted metal, half listening to the comms chatter as John and Gordon organised a heavy lifting pod to come and move the rubble. He couldn't hear a response from the second in command and that scared him.
"Virgil! Answer me!"
It felt like time slowed to a crawl as he used his jet pack to get an aerial view of the collapse. He landed carefully on what had once been a roof and tried to find a place where he could squeeze into the tunnel opening.
"...ott…in! …bir…are…rec…ng?"
"Virgil? Virgil! Come in! John! Can you boost his signal?"
"Working on it!" their space-bound brother confirmed.
"FAB."
Leaving John to work his magic, Scott turned his attention to his second youngest brother, “Gordon, we’re going to need to dig them out.”
“Way ahead of you, bro!”
That was good. For all his joking around, Gordon was always on the ball when it mattered.
"...receiving? International Rescue, come in!"
He started in surprise and a wide grin spread across his face, "Virgil! Am I glad to hear you! What's your situation?"
He knew the relief in his tone wasn't the most professional but he didn't care: All that mattered was that his brother was back in contact.
"We're okay. Couple of injuries but nothing serious. Someone shut the door behind me."
Scott couldn't help but chuckle at the mock pout he could hear in Virgil's voice. "Yeah, there was an explosion out here that made the building collapse. We're gonna make you a new exit. Gordon’s putting the mole pod together now."
"I guess we'll just have to get comfy while we wait."
"We'll have you out as soon as possible."
"FAB."
Time passed. Too much time. Even though it was only minutes before Gordon was able to start drilling at a clear area of the cliff face it still felt like an eternity to Scott.
Carefully following the scans beamed down from Thunderbird Five, Gordon cautiously directed the mole pod forward. The last thing they needed was more induced seismicity in this area.
The moment the new tunnel was linked up with the established ones, Gordon drove back out and Scott darted in, working his way towards the life signs on his display. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw his dust-covered brother in his exosuit leading the equally filthy miners.
"I am so glad to see you, Virgil."
The engineer chuckled lightly, a sure sign that there was nothing for the commander to be concerned about. "Me too, Scott. Talk about unnecessary complications!"
They hustled everyone out of the mine, conscious that with their current streak of luck another cave-in wasn’t out of the question. Judging by the sighs of relief from the rescued personnel, Scott guessed their concerns weren’t just Tracy paranoia.
They had just escorted the injured to the waiting paramedics when Gordon came bounding up to them with two coffee cups, both held out for the heavy lifter. "Hey, Virg! Good to see you back out. I figured there'd be too much blood in your coffee stream by now so I thought you'd like these!"
The squid's happy grin was just a bit too optimistic which immediately caused Virgil to raise a suspicious eyebrow. "What did you do, Gordon?"
"Do? Me? Nothing? Just taking care of my brother!"
Scott had to work to keep his face straight as the aquanaut instantly switched to Annoying Little Brother mode.
"Gordon…"
The growl was a familiar prelude to a potential eruption if it wasn't dealt with promptly. Blithely ignoring the warning signs, even though Gordon was as adept at reading Virgil as Scott was, the aquanaut continued as if nothing was wrong. "Coffee first. It's nothing a little paint won't fix and it wasn't my fault the wind shifted!"
"Gordon!"
Before the squid could dig himself an even deeper hole Scott stepped in with a hand on Virgil's shoulder, "She really is okay. From what I could see it really is nothing more than cosmetic damage."
The engineer grunted and drained the first of his two cups, sighing contentedly as the hot liquid infused much-needed caffeine into his tissues.
Taking the time to savour his second cup, the mud and dust covered engineer pinned their younger brother with a steady glare. "What happened?"
It wasn't a question as much as it was a demand for knowledge from the commander of Thunderbird Two. Scott cleared his throat to hide his amusement and left them to it, going to find the local responder in charge.
It didn't take long to locate the chief, surrounded as they were by irate mine owners and overly inquisitive journalists.
Journalists…
Scott's relationship with the news media was…complicated.
With an internal sigh, he turned on the charm for the benefit of the reporters and deftly slipped himself into the conversation.
"Chief Song, all personnel are now accounted for and are being given necessary medical treatment and support. I'm also happy to report that all fires are out and look like they're going to stay that way. As lead International Rescue responder, I am returning full command of the incident to you. If there's anything further we can assist with, please let us know."
The chief gave him a professional nod, but Scott didn't miss the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Thank you, International Rescue. Tell me, did your operative get out of the collapsed section unscathed?"
From the way the mining boss spluttered Scott could immediately tell this was all part of the unofficial and thoroughly polite dressing down she had been administering when he arrived. Having seen it many times before, Scott didn't hesitate for a moment in handing her more ammunition to prove her point.
"Yes, fortunately our operative and those he was helping had made it to a reinforced section by the time the explosion occurred. Of course, the initial tremors caused by the workings had weakened the area but we got lucky this time." He gave the mining boss an insultingly bland look. One precisely calculated to give the target maximum offence while also leaving any onlookers with the impression that he was being entirely polite.
Chief Song gave him a grateful smile, "I'm glad to hear it. Now, I understand your team has been on the go for most of the day. We can handle everything from here. You go and get some well-earned rest."
He nodded, knowing that this was Virgil and Gordon’s fourth rescue of the day and his brothers desperately needed some downtime. “Let us know if we can be of any further assistance.”
Scott gave the assembled group a genial nod, then turned on his heel and hurried back to his brothers.
“We done?” Gordon looked at him hopefully as he came close enough to speak without shouting.
“Yes, time to head home. You good to fly, Virgil?”
His engineer brother nodded and, giving Gordon a sour look, headed for his ‘bird.
Hiding a smirk, Scott waved at them, “See you in the sky.”
oOoOo
Scott sighed and rubbed his aching eyes.
So much for downtime.
At least he was finally able to head home.
And the rescue he’d been diverted to had been reasonably simple: Just a case of plucking a couple of climbers off the side of the Matterhorn and delivering them to the nearest hospital. The good thing about it was that Virgil and Gordon were still able to get back to the island and, hopefully, get some much-needed sleep.
He checked his instruments again and frowned as they blurred in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and glared at them again. It had to be the headache he’d been fighting off since he got to Switzerland.
Blinking furiously and trying to force his eyes to focus enough, Scott concentrated on the last leg of his journey. Ten minutes until landing, then the post-flight checks, and he’d be showered, changed, and back in the villa within twenty minutes. He’d be able to go to bed and he’d feel better in the morning. Well…later, anyway; early afternoon in Switzerland meant very early morning on the island.
It was with a sigh of relief that he guided his ‘bird into her hidden launch bay and landed her safely on her pad. He ran through his checks as she was trundled back into the main hangar for refuelling and maintenance and rushed down to the locker room the moment he was off his gantry.
Once there he dimmed the lights in deference to the late hour, stripped, stuffed his uniform into the laundry chute and dragged himself into the shower where he stood under the hot spray trying to soothe the bruises that had started to bloom nicely all over. His head was pounding and his eyes still ached as he let the water run down his face.
Feeling clean, if not relaxed, Scott donned a set of his preferred pj bottoms and old Air Force t-shirt and took the lift straight up to the residential level. The debrief could wait until morning. John already had the majority of it archived and all that was left was adding the thoughts of those who’d been on site. As he’d already confirmed that his brothers were in their rooms, he’d given John the go-ahead to stand them down for a solid forty-eight hours. They all needed the rest.
With those thoughts spinning through his head, Scott closed the door to his rooms and gratefully climbed into his bed.
oOoOo
He groaned in protest as the sunlight through the windows penetrated his sleep. His eyes felt sore, gritty, and watery, and he was certain there was a drummer going to town on the inside of his skull.
Keeping his eyes mostly shut to avoid as much light as possible, Scott heaved himself to his feet and into his ensuite, relying on the intimate knowledge of his personal living space rather than his sight. Leaving the lights off, he fumbled around until he found his stash of basic pain meds and tossed back a couple of pills, washing them down with a glass of tap water.
Flinching at even the dim light filtering into his bathroom from outside, he knew he was going to need some sort of medical treatment. With a resigned sigh, he shuffled back to bed and groped blindly for his tablet on the bedside table.
Activating the device had him cursing as the normally comfortable display felt like it was searing his retinas. He flipped the tablet face down on the bed to get rid of the painful brightness and sat rubbing at his aching and streaming eyes.
Right.
He needed Virgil but he didn't want John to start fussing and threatening to sic Grandma on him. It was probably around 0800 which meant his brother was likely still asleep. It's never a good idea to wake a sleeping Virgil but given the circumstances, he'd likely avoid getting growled at too much.
Scott groaned and pulled himself to his feet again, ignoring other twinges collected at the previous day's rescues as he shuffled his way out of his rooms. The brightness in the villa's hallway hurt, so he stumbled forwards with one hand covering his eyes and the other running along the wall to help guide him to Virgil's door.
He knocked, hoping that would be enough to wake the family bear without attracting the attention of the rest of the household.
"Virgil, come on!" he muttered as he knocked again, louder this time.
He was about to give up on any attempt at subtlety when the door was yanked open and a semi-articulate grunt demanded to know what he was playing at.
Scott took a breath and forced the unfamiliar words out, “I need help. I can’t see properly.”
There was a pause then a worried noise. He could just imagine his brother’s face as his brain booted up properly in a way that could normally only be achieved with copious amounts of coffee or an emergency.
“Stay there.”
The reassuring presence of his immediate brother disappeared for a moment before Scott heard him return and activate a med scanner.
“What’s the verdict?” Scott smirked, forcing some of his usual nonchalance into his tone. Unfortunately, Virgil wasn’t having any of it.
“You have photokeratitis. Arc eye. Keep your eyes closed and I’ll help you down to the infirmary. Oh, and you’re grounded until further notice.”
Scott opened his mouth to protest then thought better of it. Virgil was right. If he couldn’t even stand normal ambient light, how was he going to fly? He nodded in defeat. “Yeah. How long?”
The smile he could hear in his brother’s voice was the most reassuring thing as he was carefully guided to the elevator, “You should be fine in two to four days. You just need to let the burns heal.”
There was a pause as Virgil led Scott into the elevator and hit the button for the infirmary level, “What concerns me is that our helmets have UV protection. That should have been enough to prevent this kind of damage to your eyes.”
Scott felt his cheeks warm and he opened his mouth to say something before closing it again. He was in so much trouble!
“Scott?”
“Yes, Virgil?”
There was a pause and he could feel the engineer’s eyes boring into him. “You weren’t wearing it, were you.”
It wasn’t a question. He was so screwed.
“You had your helmet off.” There was an exasperated sigh, “This was at the mine, wasn’t it.”
Scott nodded mutely. Honesty was the only thing that gave him a chance of survival.
“You had your helmet off and I’ll just bet you were looking directly at the explosives storage building when it went up.”
He half shrugged, “The wind shifted suddenly and some of the fires started back up. It just kinda…disintegrated in front of me.”
There was another pause and he was pretty sure that Virgil had rolled his eyes at him. “Well, at least Brains won’t have to worry about tweaking our helmets.”
They arrived at their floor and Virgil carefully guided him to their destination, assisting him onto one of the treatment beds. His brother’s presence disappeared from his side again and he could hear the medic rummaging through the drawers for whatever he was about to be given.
“Lie back.”
Scott couldn’t help but grimace at his brother’s tone as he meekly complied with the instruction. Virgil was pissed. But he was also trying his best not to direct it at the idiot on the bed. He heard the quiet beeping of a medscanner as his brother confirmed his diagnosis.
“I’m giving you some antibiotics and meds that will dilate your eyes to make them relax. Then I’m getting you a cold compress. I know you hate eyedrops so I’ll put them in the corners of your eyes so you can blink them in. I’ll turn the lights off before you do though so wait for me to tell you when. Got it?”
He nodded and flinched as Virgil gently cleaned the wetness from his streaming eyes then sighed at the sudden coolness that gathered at the inner corners when the drops were administered. He heard the light switch flick and then was given the okay.
The medicinal fluid washing into his eyes made him hiss as it stung for a few seconds before a feeling of relief calmed the ache.
"You ready for the compress now?" Virgil's voice rumbled next to him and, at his nod, what he knew was a cold gel pack was gently placed over his eyes.
"I'll make sure there are spares in the kitchen and in your quarters. I want you to use them whenever your eyes start to ache."
"Got it."
His brother took a deep breath, "Stay away from bright lights, no screens, holodisplays, or even traditional books. You need to let your eyes rest if you want to avoid permanent damage. I think you’ll be okay without dressings, so I’ll have Gordon bring your sunglasses down.”
Scott pulled a face under the cold compress, “Seriously? Gordon?”
“Would you rather I ask Grandma?”
He grimaced, “Gordon’ll do.”
The traitor snorted in amusement, “I’ll tell him you said that.”
Scott, in a display which was the epitome of responsible adulthood, stuck his tongue out.
“You realise that most of the island already knows, right? And you know how Grandma keeps on top of our medical files. I’ve already logged my diagnosis and treatment.” He could hear the grin in his brother’s voice, “On the plus side, I’m pretty sure there’s no way she can wrangle this into a way to feed you.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s not all terrible.”
Scott didn’t need to be able to see to know the kind of look he was being given.
“Okay, it’s mostly terrible, but Grandma tries. Sometimes her food’s almost edible.”
“I don’t think that’s the ringing endorsement most people look for, Scott.”
They lapsed into a companionable silence until there was a knock at the door a few minutes later. It was opened before either of them could respond and Scott could just tell it was Gordon with a massive grin on his face, “Special delivery for Scott Carpenter Tracy. You two having fun sitting in the dark?”
“Gimme those, Squid,” Virgil said gruffly before coming back to his side and gently removing the gel pack. “Make sure you keep these on. If I catch you without them I’ll wrap your head in bandages faster than you can say ‘Thunderbirds are go’.”
Scott sat up, adjusting the sunglasses for comfort before gingerly opening his eyes. Just in time to catch the glare that had been known to stop officious busybodies in their tracks (Scott was pretty sure that was down to the eyebrows). “Yes, Virgil.”
The easy acknowledgement of his instructions seemed to somewhat mollify the lead medic. Scott took a deep breath and eased off the treatment bed. His headache had improved, and while the world was still a blur, the light from the hallway didn’t hurt the way it had earlier.
“So…anyone want some breakfast?” Gordon chirped as he trotted ahead of the two of them. “Alan said he’d make pancakes!”
Scott paused and gave Virgil a concerned look, “He is? But that’s my thing…”
His brother shrugged, “At least it’s Alan and not Grandma.”
oOoOo
He was bored. So very, very bored.
It hadn’t even been a full day and Scott was all but climbing the walls at the enforced inactivity. He was currently lying on the sofa in his darkened rooms trying to think of ways to avoid insanity.
There was a quiet tap at the door that barely registered then a louder one. Scott smiled slightly, the only one who ever knocked like that was his youngest brother when he wasn’t sure if he was bothering someone.
“Come in, Alan.”
“Hey, how’d you know it was me?” Scott could imagine the perplexed frown on Alan’s face without even looking over at him.
“No one else knocks like that.”
“Oh.” Alan paused for a moment, “Wait, like what?”
The oldest Tracy brother just grinned, “Doesn’t matter. What’s up, Allie?”
“Well, it’s just…I know Virgil’s given you like, a million rules for stuff you’re not allowed to do, and I know you must be bored so…I thought you might like to play guitar with me?”
Scott’s heart melted as his littlest brother came around the couch and produced both of their guitars.
“I know you haven’t played for a while so I made sure it’s all tuned and stuff.” Alan trailed off into a teenager’s half-shrug and a hopeful smile.
Sitting up with a groan for his stiff and bruised muscles, Scott reached out for his guitar and, after settling it comfortably over his leg, gently strummed a chord.
It had been months since he’d last had the chance to play; he always seemed to have something going on which took up all his time. If it wasn’t International Rescue it was Tracy Industries, or the GDF, or maintenance and testing for Thunderbird One, or something else. As much as the enforced idleness was frustrating, it was almost a relief to have a break from whatever the next thing was.
He smiled over at Alan as he savoured the sound of the guitar in his hands, “Thank you, Alan. Seriously.”
The teen just grinned at him as he flicked the strings of his own guitar, “What do you want to play first? Hurt, Good Riddance, or House of the Rising Sun?”
Scott smirked and, after a quick warm-up run to remind his fingers how to play, he launched into Good Riddance with Alan quickly joining in.
It wasn’t until hours later that Scott even realised that it was getting late. The rest of the family had drifted in and out at various points, joining in with voice or instrument according to their preferences, until even John came down from orbit to grace them with his presence. Dinner had been brought to his rooms and, as International Rescue had been stood down for a solid forty-eight hours, a few beers were passed around.
The relaxed smiles and easy laughter of the rest of the islanders filled Scott with a calm he didn’t normally feel and he made a mental note to ensure they all got together more frequently as a family. It wasn’t good for any of them to be consumed in the work of International Rescue all the time, and it wasn’t right that it only really seemed to happen with any regularity when one of them was injured.
"Hey, Scott?" Alan pulled his attention away from his musings, "Do you remember the chord progression for Under the Bridge?"
He grinned and started playing, "This version?"
Yeah, they definitely needed to do this more often.