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right-brain-of-froggy2 · 2 years

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Christmas in July: Bonus Day 31

Twelve days of Christmas, twelve days of rescues and all hands are on deck.

This is the official last chapter! Huzzah! I wanted something a bit longer for today and decided to somehow power through drafting 12 different rescues and writing them all out 🥲. A big, big thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, subscribed, or just all around enjoyed reading my Thunderbirds Christmas in July collection. It's been incredibly fun to challenge myself to write a little something everyday and I've loved having you all along for the ride!

AO3 link here!

December 13th. Scott’s woken up like most any other day except for Alan banging on his door. His tired mind panics for only a second before he checks the date on his alarm clock a second time.

December 13th.

The first day of the twelve days of Christmas.

Right, that’s a thing.

Alan eventually breaks into his room. His youngest brother is wearing a hideous off-green sweater with the sleeves ripped off like a muscle shirt. No doubt that was Gordon’s doing when it was once belonged to him.

“C’mon, c’mon! You can’t be sleeping in this close to Christmas!”

“Yes, I can,” Scott grumbles. His voice is muffled by the pillow his face is currently stuffed into.

“I’m going to steal your advent candy.”

Scott waves a hand. It’s probably chocolate again anyways. The soft electronic chime of John’s hologram pings. Alan- with his mouth full of whatever was in the little box- complains to the brother with the next amount of authority.

“Scott’s not waking up! Tell him he has to get up and participate!”

“Don’t you dare side with that little gremlin.”

John raises an eyebrow. “Actually, Scott, you do have to get up. We’ve got a missing hiker in Canada’s Boreal Forest. Normal search and rescue isn’t going to be able to cut it in time with how thick the trees are.”

That wakes Scott up. He rubs at his eyes to clear the sleep from them. Alan moves to finish off his (Scott’s) treat against a wall, leaving the doorway free for Scott to hop out to his loading chute in his pajamas.

“F.A.B.”

. . .

The second day of Christmas brings a rescue with quick needed action to Glasgow. An old office building is in the middle of demolition so a new office building can take its place. Somehow, by some mistake of schedule, two workers find themselves trapped on the roof with no way down and ten minutes to go on the explosive’s timer.

“Well, I don’t suppose even Thunderbird One could make this in time, Parker.”

“I’d say so, M’lady. Lucky we h’are close enough to manage this on h’our h’own?”

“Quite right. Let’s get going.”

Parker steps on the gas as he diverts power to FAB 1’s main jet thrusters. The car slides for a moment on the wet asphalt before taking to the skies. England’s weather has been quite chilly lately and it didn’t surprise Penelope in the least that the rain has turned to sleet.

She sits in the backseat with Sherbert asleep at her heels. Today was going to be such a relaxing day of bad Hallmark Christmas movies and Dove chocolates. But duty calls. Or, more specifically, John. He had been quite relieved to hear her proximity to the situation and promised that all the Tracy’s would join her for a romcom Christmas movie night. Penelope would have gone to the rescue anyways, but who was she to turn down an offer like that?

At least she thought to bring along some chocolates for the flight over. Penelope pops one into her mouth and enjoys the mix of dark chocolate and caramel on her tongue.

“H’approaching the blast zone now, M’lady.”

Penelope peeks out the window overlooking Glasgow. The city is covered in slushy-snow, not quite white but not quite gray. Atop a building stripped down to its bare supports are two men in orange vests.

“I’d say we’ve found the workers. How much time do we have, Parker?”

“Only three minutes before the ‘ole thing comes down.”

“Leave the car running,” she says. Parker nods and approaches the roof. He leaves the car hovering inches above the rooftop. Lady Penelope steps out with one hand holding onto the car door for support in her heels. “Gentlemen!”

“You here for us, lady?”

“I am with International Rescue. If you don’t mind hurrying along, we can give you a ride down out of danger.”

The tension from the men’s shoulders leaves in an instant. They clamor to get into FAB 1, away from the cold and away from certain death. Parker sneers at the dirt they smudge on the white leather. But the men are polite and don’t try any funny business with Lady Penelope. And for that, Parker lets them get away with it just this once.

With the men out of harm’s way and FAB 1 directed back to the Creighton-Ward Manor, Penelope is eager to rejoin her lonely sales executive returning home to small town Vermont for Christmas and a love-at-first-sight man.

. . .

“I can’t believe these guys have a combined IQ of seventeen,” Kayo sasses as she launches Shadow. Once in the air, she hightails a U-turn towards the west. “I was just getting to add little smiley faces to my sandmen.”

“More like ten,” John sighs. “I’ve got them on the other line and they didn’t even bring spare batteries.”

“And they didn’t even bring spare batteries!”

Kayo cruises in Shadow as ocean turns to land beneath her. December 15th means the Northern hemisphere is cold- something she does not want to get involved in. There’s no point in speeding on this rescue when her rescue timeline had enough wriggle room for a full 24-hour delay. “Please tell me it’s at least not snowing.”

“It’s not snowing.”

“Oh, thank God. Small victories.”

“Mind sending me the cave layout again? I’d rather know what I’m getting into than spelunking blind.”

The controls of Thunderbird Shadow tighten under Kayo’s hand as EOS takes over on autopilot. John slides her the schematic of the entire cave, including where the trapped explorers are stuck. It’s not too deep down in, but some of the passes that the three would-be adventurers slipped through are tiny. Alan’s growth spurt leaves Kayo as the most lithe to passage the cave.

There’s little safety risk so long as Kayo plays by the Earth’s rules. Always have two sources of light and backups, keep a rope tied to the entrance, use the TTE communicator to patch in John through Shadow, and most of all, don’t do anything stupid.

Kayo can handle that.

The cave chamber where the explorers are stuck has a few entrances. Two of them are drops down in, meaning climbing back up will be tricky. But the one appears shallow from the hologram so it may be the best bet.

“Over Montauban now. Another five minutes and I’ll be nearing the cave entrance.”

John acknowledges her position and EOS relinquish control back to Kayo as she swipes away the map. She comes upon the mountains of southern France with wide eyes. The cave entrance is plotted to be out amongst a limestone cliff face. She spots the main opening.

“Umm, John? Where’d you say the trailhead was?”

“It should be over the bluff about two miles north of you.”

Kayo shakes her head. “That’s not going to work. I’ve found the cave entrance and it’s in the side of the cliff with a thousand-foot drop. I’m going to land Shadow near the entrance. Is it stable?”

“It’s all karst and limestone. Stay away from the edge and you should be fine.”

Kayo lands Shadow as John suggested and slides on her harness. She loops a three way rope- one end is around Shadow, another end around a solid looking boulder, and the last is around her waist. Kayo tests the amount of slack she gave herself and nods.

With three extra harnesses in hand, she descends down into the cold cave.

. . .

“Isn’t she a beaut?” Gordon sighs dreamily, his head in his hands. “Write it down! December 16th. Seven nests.”

“It’s a bird.”

“A Wedge-tailed Shearwater, thank you very much.”

“It destroyed our sandmen.”

“To lay eggs!”

“There’s a nest on Alan’s sandman’s head.”

Scott comes in with a cheese stick in his mouth like a poor man’s cigar. He claps Kayo on the back as he looks out to the destruction of sand-people. “Circle of life, little sister. We build snowmen, they melt. We build sandmen, they become nesting grounds for sea birds.”

“Wedge-tailed Shearwaters!”

Kayo still flops over on the couch, borrowed binoculars thrown somewhere in the heap of pillows.

“Why don’t you come with me on a rescue to get your mind off such horrible, troubling things,” Scott suggests. He’s only half joking. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands on this mission.

Gordon doesn’t look away from the newly built nests. His eyes are glued to the set of binoculars. “You need Thunderbird Two as well? I’m surprised John didn’t wake up Virgil or Alan yet.”

“We debriefed already. It’s a group of four researchers studying penguins down in the Antarctic ice shelf. The shelf started calving and they’re stuck. The heat from Two’s thrusters and the massive size alone getting that close may send the researchers falling.”

The aquanaut sticks out a tongue as Kayo is roped into duty without much of a say.

Kayo finds herself snug in One’s jump seat back behind Scott. It’s roomier than Shadow; she actually has room to kick her legs out in front of her when not in the pilot’s chair. Kayo grips onto the handle above her seat as One launches.

“MIDAS system active. Accelerating to Mach 12,” Scott says into the automatic recording system. “You good back there, Kayo?”

“I want to go back and get revenge on those birds. I’ve never been a bird person.”

“I’ll help. They like dive-bombing me when I went on my run this morning.”

Kayo is satisfied that at least one brother holds some sense of dislike towards birds. She sits back and relaxes into her seat, content to watch the water turn to ice beneath the see-through hull.

“You know, this glacier mission sounds like it’ll be in and out no problem. The researchers have a base they want to be taken to which isn’t far,” Kayo starts as the ride grows a bit too silent after being with Gordon all morning.

“And…?”

“And it’s ice! Ice skating!”

“I thought you hated the snow?”

“I mean, I do,” Kayo clarifies. “But ice skating is fun. Didn’t you and John used to go all the time at the pond back behind Grandma’s farmhouse?”

“Yeah, right until Virgil got old enough and wanted to join us. He did once, fell, cried to Mom, and she didn’t let us back,” Scott says with a tone that shows he’s still bitter about it.

“Well then Virgil doesn’t have to know!”

“We don’t have skates.”

“It’s solid ice. I think boots will do quite nicely to slide across it.”

Scott doesn’t know quite what got into his sister. Normally she’s the voice of reason. But who is he to complain about getting to go ice skating on a glacier?

“Mission first. Then hell yes.”

. . .

“Oh, hold up Alan. Virgil, you can go.”

Alan skids on heel from activating his suit up sequence. Virgil cocks an eyebrow before disappearing into his own chute, Thunderbird Two bound. Honestly, Alan’s glad that hideous Christmas sweater is out of sight. Hopefully it gets torn on the automatic dressers. It already has paint on it from where Virgil was painting today- the fifth day of Christmas in his series.

John’s distracted, running a hand through his normally neat hair.

“Shouldn’t I, you know, be getting going?”

“Virgil’s handled plenty of forest fires. This one doesn’t appear to be any different,” John mumbles. “EOS just found a Giramit recycler going haywire.”

“Aren’t those the new space junk recyclers that everyone raved about?”

“Yeah, and this one has eaten five needed satellites in ten minutes. Its detection system must be on overdrive. You’re going to need to fix it before it destroys a craft with people in it.”

“F.A.B.”

Alan settles back down into his black launch chair and as it’s loading down, sets the destination for Three’s cockpit instead of Two. Once in his space suit, John’s voice pops up in his ear.

“Are you okay handling this mission with EOS? I can help, but with Gordon out in the Senkaku Islands and Virgil’s fire…”

“No worries, John. Your child is my child.”

“I am not a child, Alan,” EOS pipes in.

“Eh, potato-potatoe.”

Three launches into space with a mighty roar. Alan’s stomach flip-flops in that vaguely comforting way once he clears the atmosphere and hits 0 G. EOS gives him the run down with a track on the runaway recycler. The mission seems easy enough if not a bit tedious for the shutdown sequence the company ahem… “gave”… EOS.

He directs Three over to the other side of the Earth, right above the southern tip of South America.

“I see some big thing with golden rings sticking out and it’s moving pretty fast. Is that it?”

“Correct. There are two possible targets in the way of the detection system that it is heading towards. Careful not to cross the front otherwise you’d be three,” EOS warns. Her hologram lights twinkle against the starry backdrop.

Alan spots the back paneling hiding the control console. He can’t dock Three to the recycler with the configuration, but he can’t leave it close by either. Its best to leave his ‘Bird out of harms way and EVA over with a hoverboard.

“Alright, opening hatch now.”

Alan takes in a deep breath of his spacesuit air. He pushes off and hooks his magnetic boots to the base of his board. The propulsion is smooth and fast, a new Brains upgrade. Alan reaches the panel in no time. This close to the machine, Alan can see why it’s a problem. The thing is twice the size of Three with grinding rotors that stick out from the front. Luckily, it’s only a matter of unlatching and typing in a ten series code to access the motherboard.

“Woah, this is way less to work with than I planned…” Alan says.

“The shutdown sequence should be easy. It’s a matter of flipping the AT-8 switches off. There’s an automatic reboot sequence that will turn it back on, so disconnecting the detection system wires is your best bet to avoid a repeat of this whole debacle.”

“Sure, sure.”

EOS’s instructions work like a charm. The menacing rumble of the recycler peters out after the three subsequent AT-8 switches are turned off. But there’s still a light flashing. It’s blue rather than red or green- that must be the reboot status. Alan snips the wire before it has the chance to fire back up.”

“Status report, EOS?”

“Well, I don’t detect any signals. The whole thing appears to be offline and using no power.”

Alan whoops a “Mission accomplished” like he’s from a video game. “Time to get back to the Island before Virgil to make peppermint hot chocolate.”

“Why does Virgil need to be absent?”

Alan pouts. “He always steals the marshmallows! Kayo found ones shaped like reindeer and there’s only a handful left.”

“Ah. A true tragedy.”

. . .

“Oh, hold up Alan. Virgil, you can go.”

Alan skids on heel from activating his suit up sequence. Virgil cocks an eyebrow before disappearing into his own chute, Thunderbird Two bound.

Virgil enjoys the slide down to Two as the machine throws on his uniform. He slams the top hatch shut and initiates the pre-launch sequence. Once Two is in the air, Virgil opens his channel with his older brother.

“Talk to me, John.”

“We’ve got a multi-hundred-acre forest fire in south Wyoming that’s spreading out of control of local services. Everything’s pretty wet with snow so I can’t imagine it will take more than a good dousing from the water cannon to places they can’t reach.”

“Any civilians?”

“Everyone was evacuated. The only danger right now is to wildlife. Including a group of late migrating Canadian geese. Or so the report says.” John rubs at his eyes.

“Didn’t one bite you when we were little?”

“Two. And would it really be such a bad thing to lose a couple of geese? They’re the devil incarnate.”

“Don’t tell that to Gordon. He’ll come straight over and adopt one and name it John.”

“Gordon’s already dealing with that old fishing net,” John groans as he thinks about their Fish brother being left to his own devices on this mission. “He’s gotten stuck twice and went out swimming another three times to ‘commune with his family in their natural state’.”

Virgil barks a laugh. No wonder John looks exhausted. Gordon’s been out there for three hours already and he knows John hasn’t been able to catch more than five minutes of silence.

“Oh, and sorry about pulling Alan away. We’ve got a space emergency that needs to be dealt with.”

“What, did Santa crash his sleigh?”

“First of all, Christmas isn’t for a week. Second, Santa is a part of an alien species that travels by teleportation, not ship.”

Oh, John must be real tired if he’s getting this sarcastic. Virgil holds his tongue behind a smile at another quip. “You good handling three missions on your own? I’m sure Scott would jump at the chance to take over on one.”

“He and Kayo need to not be involved right now. For my sanity. I’m still mad that they both thought that ice skating on the glacier rescue was a good idea last night.”

“Hey! You’re not the one that had to carry their sorry asses back to the Island after Scott twisted his ankle and Kayo hit her head. But I give it a day before they’re out again. Speaking of, you should come down until Christmas. I know, duty calls and all that, but you can monitor from home and EOS can keep an eye on the station.”

Virgil’s about to argue with all the reasons that John should come down. He needs gravity to help restore his bone density, Alan has a new game to show him in person, (Virgil doesn’t want to be the one to take care of the hospital twins), how he stashed away those cute reindeer marshmallows in a place Alan won’t find right before leaving. And honestly, Virgil just misses his brother.

“Sure.”

“Man, you must be exhausted to agree that easily.”

John shrugs and Virgil knows it’s true. Back-to-back-to-back-to-back rescues all during the holiday season are not what he would call fun. And at least Virgil gets a break from the callouts if Two isn’t needed. But John is needed in virtually every mission.

The astronaut turns away and mutes himself. He says something incomprehensible with lips moving in an exasperated way. When he returns his attention to Virgil, the engineer can only guess that it was Gordon on the other line.

“Please tell me I’m allowed to smother Gordon with a pillow when I see him.”

“You’re allowed to smother Gordon with a pillow when you see him. As long as it’s a holiday one.”

“Deal.”

. . .

“Mmh… hey John,” Gordon mumbles. He doesn’t open his eyes, too comfortable from his midmorning nap. He’s stretched out on one of the loungers by the pool like a cat basking in the sunlight. “Is it lunch time already?”

“Looks like you’ll be having lunch in Four. I’ve got a mission for you.”

“Lay it on me, John.”

“Luckily, there’s no people involved here. An old fishing trawler net unfolded itself from ocean sediment and is now causing a huge issue for the sea life around the Senkaku Islands. A Japanese patrol boat went out early this morning and called it in. Unless we get another callout, it’ll be best for the environment and about one hundred migrating sea turtles if you get out there.”

Gordon’s once sleepy eyes light up like the Christmas tree inside. “Oh Johnny Boy, this is the best present you could have ever given me!”

“You’re welcome. And-”

“-don’t call you Johnny. Yeah. Yeah.” Gordon waves off John as he shucks off his pajama shirt before heading to his chute. “But sea turtles! And solo ocean environment mission! Best day ever.”

He hits the button to begin the suit up sequence. John’s hologram fades away as he switches into his aquanautics gear. The quick dive into Four’s cold water tank drives any tiredness lingering in Gordon’s body away. Gordon hums to himself as he goes through all checks. With everything in order and Four shooting out of her on-island launch track, Gordon sets his sites for Japan.

The Senkaku Islands are a chain that Gordon is decently familiar with. Back in the day, it was a hotbed for political and resource disputes between China, Japan, and Taiwan. But now the islands are home to a small animal conservatory and outreach post.

Gordon sets Four on autopilot in the calm waters to enjoy a lunch of Celery crunch bars. The trip is going to take a while; Japan isn’t exactly in their backyard. But with the others on downtime and no immediate peril, sailing the seas for a few days will have to do. Gordon pushes the pilots chair back to stretch out his legs. His mind runs through a list of things he could do in the meantime.

Finish his nap.

Take inventory and plan out his meals.

Watch Buddy and Ellie.

Call John.

A smile creeps over his face. That last option is mighty tempting. Gordon taps on his console until it connect with his ginger brother. He’d due down dirt side in a few days but that never stopped Gordon before.

“Heyyy John. Did you know that there’s an octopus that farms bacteria…”

. . .

“I cannot in good conscience bring you two on this mission.”

“Okay then, have a guilty conscience. We’re still coming.”

John really wants to fight Scott on this one. He and Kayo are still supposed to be on bed rest after that ice skating accident. A call came in about an earthquake in a rural farming county with a few farmers trapped in their crumbling homes. John normally has no qualms about going on rescues, but this is definitely a job for multiple hands and his preferred, non-injured brothers are out in Jamaica.

“Virgil cleared you both of concussions?”

Kayo is already strapping herself into one of the two passenger seats in One. “Just a few pulled muscles. He really over exaggerated.”

Scott moves to the pilot’s chair. John grabs his arm and points him in the direction of the spot next to Kayo.

“John, there’s no way you’re flying my ‘Bird.”

“Over exaggerated or not, Virgil was worried about you two. I’m already going to get an earful for bringing you along. I pilot alone or I pilot with you two in the back.”

That earns John a round of grumbles but no more protesting.

The launch is clunky and nowhere near as smooth as Scott would be able to pull off. John hopes it makes Scott and Kayo both rethink coming along. EOS pops up on the holographic display. The two behind John crane their necks to listen in on the debrief.

“The earthquake was registered as a 7.9 as of one minute ago.” EOS’s soft voice updates the trio. “I have done multiple scans of the area and all of the families but three managed to get to safety. There are no deaths reported and the families appear to be in stable locations but trapped amongst rubble.”

“Thanks, EOS. We’ll see to it that they get out safely.”

John waves away EOS’s display. There’s no need to strain One’s engines in a rush to get to the scene.

They arrive in time for the noon sun to blaze its heat down on their backs. Scott rips his helmet off immediately after touching down on the ground. So much for protocol. Kayo drags her hand down on her helmet to pull up the electronic display.

“Scott, there’s a family over that way,” Kayo says. “John, go to the left. I’m picking up life signs buried beneath the old barn you can see in the distance. I’ll search around for the last group.”

John nods at her directions. His own helmet fits snug around his skull. EOS’s voice guides him to the trapped family. It’s a bit of a jaunt over. John knows he’s not so much on the athletic side when it comes to rescues with gravity so he walks to conserve as much energy as possible.

He finds a herd of cattle milling around, as if to watch what happens to the barn and the people inside. John shoos them away. He never did like cows, even when Uncle Ron would send them out to their fields for a wider pasture.

“Can you hear me? I’m with International Rescue,” John calls out in Spanish. He listens for any response from the collapsed building.

“Down here!”

With a closer range, John runs a scan of the area. He finds four life signs huddled together in a low pocket of the barn. It all appears to be made of wood and stones. Not great for support on getting the folks out of danger, but he’d take wood over metal beams any day.

John slithers through the openings he finds. At certain points, he stops to check the integrity of the groaning structure. When his scans show up red, he adds in portable support beams from his baldric to keep the barn from collapsing quite yet. John descends down until his light flashes over a pair of eyes.

“Are any of you injured?”

“Elisa has a broken arm,” the older woman says.

“Alright. That will be best treated up above. Anyone else?”

A chorus of no’s has John sighing in relief. He back crawls out of the space so there’s room for the group to exit.

“I want you to follow me out.”

John checks back. All four people are following his moves exactly. They’re too scared to try and rush. A good thing, too. Rushing adrenaline is never good in a precarious building collapse. A girl moans in pain from the middle of the group.

“Just a little while more. The nice man will get us out safe,” the woman says to a teenager. John doesn’t respond. He spots the sunlit hole where he entered an arm’s length away.

John crawls out first. Each person comes after him. The astronaut helps to guide their bodies out of the hole to avoid scrapes and splinters. When the girl Elisa is ready to pop out, John braces her torso and pulls her out himself. The final person is a man that waves John off to help Elisa. He manages to escape the collapse on his own.

“Why don’t we sit to fix your arm?” John asks. Elisa is ashen in the face. She nods and the older woman by her side helps her to sit. The last thing John wants to deal with is trying to get her back to Two after passing out. Her break is a clean one. John’s scanners pop up that the bone cracked in half in an even line and the bones fragments didn’t separate any. He splints it and offers up some water from his baldric.

As the group takes turns with John’s water, the astronaut calls up the other two. “Thunderbird One, Thunderbird Shadow. How’re we looking?”

“Good here, John. None of mine have injuries. They’re requesting to leave to a friend’s home.”

“And you checked them out?”

“Affirmative. No injuries, visible or otherwise.”

“F.A.B. Let them go.”

Scott signs off, leaving Kayo. “I have one older gentlemen who’s having pain in his hips. The rest are fine.”

“I’ve got a younger girl here with a broken arm. You and Scott stay here, I’ll run them over to the nearest medical center.”

An easy, straightforward rescue for the eighth day before Christmas.

John hopes Virgil’s posse is having as easy of a time as they are.

. . .

Virgil and the accrued help are not having as easy of a time.

“Oh my God, that lady didn’t have on any pants!”

“Allie, shh!”

Virgil turns his communications to direct only. Beside him, The Mechanic chuckles at the antics of the youngest two. It’s a low sound that Virgil hasn’t heard often.

“Those two don’t get off the Island much, do they?”

“Nope. Internal thermocoupler.” The Mechanic passes over the device. Virgil scoots further up on his back to reach the port. “To be fair, I would have the same reaction.”

“I am just thankful you didn’t make me do crowd control. Dynamic fuse,0.22 millimeter.”

Virgil holds up the half installed thermocouple with one hand and digs around his baldric with the other. His fingers brush the fuse. It’s a delicate act passing over the glass fuse to The Mechanic’s waiting hand without breaking it.

“My question is: who thought that building a night club, strip club, whatever on the same island as a nuclear reactor would be a good plan?”

“Someone who doesn’t know how nuclear reactors work.”

The Mechanic isn’t wrong. Virgil finishes up with the repairs on his side of the coolant engine. The Mechanic continues to tinker. Only his feet stick out into the abandoned control room. Virgil taps away on his wrist controls. Radiation levels are dropping and their hazard suits aren’t close to their limit. But the core is hovering at the high end of critical. Waiting any longer to restore the plant’s shut down systems risks having a supercritical reaction on their hands.

“Virgil,” Alan says. His voice cuts through his mute function. “Um, we’ve got a situation. No one here has like… any clothes.”

“Ha! This reminds me of Olympics.” Gordon’s voice is tinny as it drifts through Alan’s speakers.

“I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

“Try dropping the shut down valve levers by two inches. I need to see if this is the problem,” The Mechanic says. His voice is muffled by the machine.

“This reminds me of the Olympics.”

Virgil does as Alan chimes in. “First off, because I’m uncomfy. I don’t think I like girls anymore.”

“Thanks for sharing with the class, Alan.”

“Second, I’m picking up a spike of radiation. EOS is tracking a change in the wind pattern and it’s bringing everything right over here.”

“Is it Beta?”

“This definitely reminds me of the Olympics.”

“Yup!”

One problem solved as The Mechanic gives Virgil a stoic thumbs up.

“Okay. I don’t love this idea at all mind you, but load everyone up into Two. Those that don’t fit, give them shock blankets, safety blankets, anything they can wrap their skin in. Take the first load of people to the main island and come back for the second. We’re still a ways out from pulling the core to subcriticality.”

“F.A.B. I guess.”

The Mechanic takes lead of guiding himself and Virgil through the maze of reactors. Virgil’s running stats through EOS and distracted enough that he runs face first into The Mechanic’s back. The man doesn’t acknowledge the blunder, he only points to the door labelled 73.

“This is the meltdown center. Are suits are still good?”

“We’re at 57% integrity. As long as this doesn’t go horribly, horribly wrong, we’re in the clear.”

The Mechanic nods. He counts to three and opens the door to the other side.

. . .

“So, I heard you had quite the fun night?”

Gordon cackles like a madman. “You should have seen Alan! Classic!”

“I had nightmares about it last night,” Alan says. Kayo peeks over the edge of the ouch to find where he’s been hiding. His legs are sprawled out on the backrest of the couch while his head dangles upside down.

“Dancing isn’t your thing, huh?”

“I don’t think Alan even knows how to dance,” John adds from his perch at Dad’s desk. His deftly flicking through ha holographic report from EOS.

“Uh, excuse you Mr. I Can’t Even Walk On My Own Two Feet. I’m better than you I bet,” Alan snaps back.

“Didn’t you take dancing classes in college?” Kayo asks.

John claps his hands together in a beat of finality as his wrist communicator beeps. “Well, looks like I have to go on a rescue. See you three later.”

“Liar!”

John lets his siblings feel superior in the idea that he’s retreating form the conversation. In reality, he really does have to go on a mission. He winds his way downstairs to the space elevator. His spacesuit is tight an familiar in comparison to his loose dirt side clothes.

“What do we have, EOS?”

The question is rhetorical. John’s already pulling up the data of the distress call as his AI connects to the space elevator computer system.

“The new Greening Space Villa sent out an EVA tour group that has disconnected from the tethers due to space debris.”

John rubs at the crease between his eyes. “This is why we shouldn’t let civilians do whatever they want in space. Can you track the group’s location.”

“Of course, John,” EOS responds. Her voice is proud and sassy. “I already have.”

“Physical status of everyone?”

“All appear of positive health. No injuries. They are simply drifting.”

“And need to be rounded up. I got it.”

The space elevator shutters as it docks with Thunderbird 5. John slips into the loading dock before making a sharp turn into his exosuit launch chute. His slides on his helmet before gripping the metal rungs to allow the suit to attach to his body. The suit automatically ramps up in acceleration to launch John out of Five.

The Villa is a hop, skip, and short spacewalk away from Five. John spots the reflective silver of their suits almost immediately. EOS patches him into their frequency.

“Hi there, this is International Rescue. It seems you guys are in need of a bit of assistance.”

Every person’s head snaps to look at John. The relief is palpable behind their heavy eye shadow and five o’clock whiskey shadows.

“Yes! Oh thank God! I almost missed my tennis match with Lord Bradford.”

“Ooh, and a handsome young man they sent.”

“Mind bringing us there now? I do have a gala to attend.”

John uses his hands as a social shield when a rush of socialites all come to him with their problems. He’s thrust back to that day of the gala with Penelope and how horrible that had been. Luckily, the instructor is there to save him from the panic of conversations. She’s a gruff old woman that certainly isn’t paid enough to be taking these folks out on space EVAs.

“If you’ve got the acceleration, I’ve got the tethers,” she says. The instructor pulls a long interlocking tether out of her suit pocket. “It ain’t much, but it’ll save you a few trips.”

“Uh, sure.”

John takes the rope in hand. It’s similar to the cables older astronauts used before magnetic boots could adhere to the sides of satellites. He gives it a few test tugs. Nothing seems to be fragile or in risk of snapping. John nods his thanks to the instructor. One woman much too old to be space rated latches onto John’s arm.

“Well I’ll be! This hunk is looking to tie us right up.”

“Here here!”

“I must ask ma’am,” John pauses to clear his throat. “Are you drunk.”

“As the day is long, I am.”

Great. Now it’s a rescue and business affairs mission. John switches his mic over so only EOS can hear him. She’ll look into revoking the entire Villas space operations permits. With more thing to worry about, John looks to finish this mission with record time.

He grabs a hold of one of the men who had been less rowdy than the women. John hooks the tether to his suit first before floating to another waiting in the back of the group. It’s a pattern of the louder drunks that could cause issues if they interfere with his flight in between the folks who look to be out here by pure bad luck. John stops at the instructor last.

“I’ll tie you to the back. Keep me updated if anything is looking funny.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The group is secured. John gives an experimental boost of propulsion. Everyone ‘whoa’s!’ into their helmet mics; and the most important part, no one flies off.

John aims himself for the villa and takes off.

. . .

The eleventh day of Christmas.

Virgil can’t believe one of them isn’t hurt by this point.

It’s almost inevitable, especially around Christmas. Winter in the Northern hemisphere means widespread snow and a greater likelihood of encountering the blistering cold and ice. Virgil honestly can’t remember the last year someone wasn’t in the infirmary long term. Kayo and Scott don’t count as that was their own doing- not a mission’s.

The holocom beeps with an incoming call. John’s quick turnaround mission not the villa and back down left him drained vertigo ridden. Virgil can’t blame him.

Gordon beats him to the answer button and patches the line through.

“International Rescue, Gordon speaking. How may we be of assistance today?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. The Fish gets a kick out of using a customer service voice when the call is voice only. Virgil grabs the last mug of coffee from the pot and settles in on the lounge couch as Gordon handles the details. Brains joins them as the initial panic of the caller settles once he realizes he’s speaking to International Rescue agents. It’s a heavily accented man speaking English to the best of his abilities.

“We’ve got trucks of anhydrous ammonia tankers that were coming. The ice caused one crash and others followed. We have little amount of time before the wind blows it to town.”

“Anhydrous ammonia?” Gordon asks.

“Mmh. Dangerous to breathe in.”

Virgil traces where the call is from. Mykolaiv, Ukraine. The dots connect in his head. “Makes sense. You’re using it for crops and farming?”

“Yes. We are moving it to store. Safer than pipelines.”

“We’ll be out there shortly. If anything gets worse, don’t hesitate to contact us.” Gordon disconnects the call.

Brains is tapping on his chin, deep in thought. “W-wait, Virgil!”

Virgil has to do a sidestep to avoid triggering his chute. “What?”

“I’ve been working on a n-new aerosol collection system. It’ll b-be useful. I don’t how long your f-filtrations can work against the am-ammonia.” Brains runs down to his lab. Virgil shakes his head at the other engineer’s antics.

“F.A.B. Brains.”

. . .

“And where did you say this rescue was?”

Alan wants to be sure he heard correctly. There’s no way he missed it.

“At the Sightman concert in Tokyo.”

“You mean… the one at the Dome? The one with 75,000 fans? The one that even I couldn’t get a ticket for? And you wouldn’t let me go ‘cause it’s Christmas Eve?”

Scott bites the inside of his cheek. “Yes. That one.”

“Oh my God!!”

Kayo walks into the scene with the rest of the three Tracy boys hot on her tail. “He does realize this is a serious rescue, right?”

John flicks through the statistics and his face darkens. “And 75,000 sold out seats means 75,000 people in the way of an incoming tsunami?”

“Alan!”

“This is like a Christmas present…” the youngest mumbles. But he settles down all the same for Virgil to grip at his shoulders and stare at him eye level.

“This is a job. We are helping people, not listening to death metal. Okay?”

“Can I be the one to help Kimo Miyakani?”

“Sure, if you can get suited up and in Two before he and his drums get caught in a panicking horde fighting their way to safety,” Kayo deadpans. She sits in the black leather seat next to Alan’s. Alan flings himself in the seat and triggers the chute.

His whooping can be heard even after the floor seals.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #lady penelope #parker #the mechanic #brains #I tried to include most everyone #Grandma Tracy slipped away from me :(#christmas #christmas in july #now to take a year long writing break

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