Home » The Archives » Chapter 9 » Regrouping and Recouperation
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #103 is a reply to message #102] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 17:33   |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
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Field Commander
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Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward looked up as Parker poured her tea into one of her favorite Wedgwood Butterfly & Posy cups. "Thank-you, Parker."
"You're quite welcome, Milady." The butler/chauffeur replied.
"Be a dear and turn on the telly, will you? I'd like to see the news," Penny asked, sipping at her tea. "Perfect, Parker, as usual."
"Thank-you, Milady." Parker turned on the television, then nodded to his mistress. "Will there be anything else, Milady?"
"No, I'm fine." Parker nodded and left the room. Penny picked up a croissant and nibbled delicately on it. She settled back into her plush chair, savoring the smell of the pink roses on the table across the room. It's going to be a marvelous day. I really must get to my correspondence. The Ladies Auxiliary needs my annual charity cheque. But that can wait until after breakfast, she thought, as her eyes traveled over the magazine she held in her hand. She was deeply into the article on this season's latest fashion trends, when a story on the television caught her ear.
"This is Nell Griffin reporting live from Mercy General in Los Angles, where three members of International Rescue are currently receiving emergency treatment. Their medical ship, Thunderbird Seven, was reportedly involved in a crash due to a tornado outbreak in Kansas."
"Oh, dear God..." The cup fell from Penny's lifeless fingers, and crashed to the floor.
"It is unclear at this time, what the nature of their injuries are. Hospital staff is being very evasive on the subject. Hospital spokesperson, Geraldo Montoya, had this to say last night:
Penny watched with great interest as the officious looking man took the podium.
"'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am sure you have all heard about the arrival of International Rescue's Thunderbird One a little earlier this afternoon. The craft was airlifting three patients, one in critical condition, from the Wichita area to our facility, on orders from International Rescue's chief medical officer...IR's physician and two nurses are the patients that were brought in.'"
"I will bring you more as soon as we are updated on the situation. Now back to you, Martin, for the rest of the news..."
"Well, then." Penny shut off the television and pressed the intercom button. "Parker, bring the car around. We're going to Los Angeles."
Post by Lillehafrue on 10/18/2006
  
[Updated on: Sun, 22 July 2012 18:46] Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #105 is a reply to message #103] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 17:35 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Sunday, August 5, 2006, 2:30 a.m., Los Angeles (9:30 p.m., same day, Tracy Island)
Jeff sat quietly at Dianne's bedside, just watching her sleep. He'd been there for over two hours now. The dim light glinted dully off the oxygen cannula, and the muted beeping of the machines that monitored her bodily functions had disappeared into the background noise bred of familiarity. He held her hand, the one without an IV, and realized that her wedding ring was missing. I wonder if it's with her personal effects or if she stored it somewhere in Seven. I'll have to ask Scott about the one, and Dom or Nikki about the other.
He refrained from scratching at the thick, silvered beard that covered the lower half of his face. The idea had been Lisa's, with a little input from his own mother.
"You're not going into that hospital as the IR commander showing off those signature dimples," Lisa had declared as they'd flown to Los Angeles. "Em told me about some disguises you and the boys had used at one time or another and she gave me the box with your beard. You're to put it on en route from the airport. I'd help you do it here, but then what good would it do?"
Jeff had found it as impossible to argue with his mother-in-law as it was to argue with his own mother, and he added the box with the beard and its accessories to his attaché case. They had come up with a plan to get everyone where they were supposed to go. Maggie would be waiting at the airport when they landed, and would take Lisa, Kyrano, and the children off to her house for rest.
Jeff, however, had contacted their West Coast version of Bernie the cabbie. Hernando Garcia - owner of Garcia's Transportation and IR Agent - had promised to be at the airport with one of his limousines. The plan was for Jeff to get in there, and the IR Commander to come out when they reached the hospital. Changing in the back of the car wasn't easy, but the spaciousness of the vehicle made it bearable. By the time he'd reached Mercy Hospital, he was in his uniform, complete with jacket, cap, visor... and beard.
Scott was waiting near the back entrance, and Carol Ferris, who was standing at the new security point, glanced back at him. Hiding a smile, Scott had nodded, and the security officers had let Jeff through.
"Sorry about the checkpoint, sir," she said as she walked him to Scott. "But it's almost as if all of Los Angeles has come out. We've had to set up barricades around the campus, and are screening people coming to the emergency room in anything other than an ambulance with a confirmed ETA."
Jeff thought this over for a moment, then asked, "What's the problem?"
Carol snorted a laugh. "You are, sir... or at least, your organization. This is the first time that one of your members has been in such a public accident or in a hospital quite like this -- at least, according to Maverick. There are all kinds out there: protesters, celebrities, rubber-neckers... but they're outnumbered by the well-wishers. People are lighting candles, praying, creating cards, leaving flowers... and the police department expects it to get worse."
Jeff groaned inwardly. I bet Dianne didn't think about this when she made the decision to pull Andy into the loop.
They met Drew on the secure floor, and Carol introduced them. Jeff shook his old friend's hand as if they were strangers, and Drew took Jeff and Scott on a brief tour of the operatives' rooms, reciting the symptoms of each as they stopped by. Nikki was awake and managed a sleepy smile, but when Drew asked her about pain, she admitted, "I think we're headed up to eight now."
"Ah," Drew responded. "I'll have Engracia bring you a pain reliever." He used his stylus on the data pad he carried.
"Get some rest," Jeff told her. She turned a sudden laugh into a cough when she realized who was behind the facial hair.
"Yes, sir."
Dom was sleeping, the sheets tangled around his legs, the hospital gown pulled up almost too far. Scott stepped forward and straightened the blanket out, pulling it up to Dom's waist. "They both should be ready for discharge tomorrow afternoon."
"The doctor's in here," Drew said, opening the door quietly. Jeff's heart had ached when he saw his wife, and barely listened to Drew's recitation of her injuries. Scott, knowing his father better than anyone, pulled a chair up next to the bed. Jeff had removed his hat and visor, slid out of his jacket, and sat down.
"I'm heading home," Drew said. "I have... family coming in from out of town."
Jeff gave him a distracted smile, then turned back to Dianne.
"They've got a room and a bed ready for me, but if you need me, just call," Scott said.
As the two men turned to leave, Jeff swiveled on the chair. "Andy? Scott?"
They paused, and Jeff nodded. "Thank you."
Drew gave a slight smile, and Scott nodded at his father. Then they had left Jeff alone with Dianne.
He sighed, and got up to stretch. Walking over to the window, he looked out through the slats of the blinds. Daylight was still hours away, and the bright halogen lights over the parking lot glinted off the skin of Thunderbird One in its secure spot. "God, how'd it all come to this?" He swallowed, closing his eyes against their sudden moisture and the combination of grief and relief that threatened to overwhelm him.
Post by Tikatu on 10/18/2006
[Updated on: Sun, 22 July 2012 18:47] Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #114 is a reply to message #105] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:40 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Sunday, August 5, 2068, 8:00 a.m. local time, Kansas (6:00 am August 5, Los Angeles; Monday, August 6 , 1:00 a.m., Tracy Island)
The cat finished cleaning her four kittens. She had moved them under the workbench in the corner when she felt the wrongness in the air. Then the noise had come and the things flying through the air. Now it was quiet again. All of her kittens were safe. They had finished feeding and were now sleeping in a heap by the wall. She was going to go out to hunt while she could.
The placed she hunted in was different. Part of it was outside now. Before there had been walls. Some of the big noisy things were gone or in different places. Some of them were on their sides. But there were still enough mice for her to catch one and eat her fill. She maneuvered under the machines towards her favorite hunting area. There was always grain that fell from the trucks and machines so there were always mice there.
Her kittens were too small for her to start to teach them to hunt. So, after eating, she headed back to her kittens without doing any more hunting.
She trotted past one machine and jumped up on another. Unfortunately, the cultivator had been hit by the tractor, which had then been thrown against the far wall. Instead of landing on the smooth metal she was used to, she landed on sharp jagged metal. She yowled in pain as her right back paw and left rear leg were cut.
She jumped down and started to clean the injuries. Fortunately no metal slivers had remained in the cuts. But the one in her paw was deep and both hurt. When she had cleaned them as best she could, she limped back to her kittens and slept.
Post by susanmartha on 10/18/2006
[Updated on: Sun, 22 July 2012 18:47] Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #115 is a reply to message #114] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:42 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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The next morning, the sun rose into a clear blue sky, witnessing the destruction left behind when the atmosphere exploded so violently. With all the cheeriness it could muster, the glowing orb insisted on showing the human inhabitants that the storm was over. Sunlight seeped around the edges of Heather's windows at the Regis Hotel, slipping its fiery fingers underneath her closed bedroom door. The combination of sunlight and a distant beeping sound caused her to awaken to the feeling that she'd forgotten something important she had to do.
With a groan, Heather pushed the covers back, wincing at the light. Her eyes ached, her head ached, and her nose ran. Turning towards the clock on the nightstand, she stared at the electric blue numerals that read 9 :14 a.m. "I hate crying jags," she moaned. "My head hurts."
The beeping started up again, and Heather crawled out of bed. "This better be important." Opening the bedroom door, the beeping grew louder. She walked over to where she left her work slacks on the floor.
"Oh, crap!" she squeaked with realization. "I was supposed to be at work!"
Picking up her pants, Heather dug frantically in the pockets for her cellphone and hit the talk button. "This is Heath--"
"Where the hell have you been, woman?! The boss has been trying to get in touch with you! We thought you'd been run over by a twister!" yelled Richard worriedly.
Standing nude in the living room with a headache and a growling stomach, Heather snapped. "Lemmee tell you what kind of day I had! I was nearly run over by a cotton-pickin' tornado, and then another one hit my aunt's farm--!"
"Heather--?"
"And it decided to take my home! Ripped every board and brick clean off the blasted foundation!"
"Heather!" The voice changed, but Heather continued ranting.
"So now I'm at the Regis with just the clothes off my back--!"
"This is the Supervisor Blake! You're on speaker phone, Kennedy!"
Heather's mouth dropped open. "Uh oh,"
"Is she always like this, Rich?" Blake asked.
"Uh-only when she's really stressed out."
Heather mouthed at the cellphone. I'm not stressed out! She made a fist at the phone.
"Heather, we've been calling everyone to make sure they're okay. Obviously, you've been through a lot and I understand that. Don't worry about making it in. Just sit tight and relax, all right?"
"Thank you, sir. By the way, what's the condition of the testing grounds?"
"A tornado tore up some of the runways at the edge of the fields," answered Richard. "The planes are all fine-including yours."
Heather breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, that's good to hear." She'd actually forgotten about her Jet Star.
"We've got to go, Heather," said Blake. "You've got lots of vacation time accumulated anyway. Call your insurance agency. Do what you have to. If I can help, let me know."
"Yes, sir, thank you, sir, and goodbye, sir."
The dial tone returned and Heather shut the phone down. Relieved she wasn't in trouble, she gathered her bags from yesterday's impromptu shopping expedition and went to shower and get dressed for breakfast.
Running her long slender fingers through her hair, she grabbed her purse, walked back to the elevator she'd taken the night before, and took a smooth trip down to the ground floor. As the elevator opened to let her out, she smiled. She did happen to like staying at hotels and eating out, so when she reached the restaurant, she made up her mind to enjoy the experience. As she walked up to the podium, she was met by the redheaded headwaiter whose name tag read Brian.
"My name is Heather," she said which sent him typing in her name. "I like the color of your hair."
With a sudden grin and dimples to match, he studied her and said, "My long lost sister!" The two of them laughed. "Well, I'm afraid at the moment that all the tables are full. I'm expecting a table to open soon."
"I can wait. That's certainly no problem."
"We got an overflow of customers in the hotel from families who lost their homes, so we've been swamped."
"And you've all been overworked, I'm sure."
"Some people have been really struggling, but I'll tell you what. About the middle of the dining room you'll find a little fella in a wheelchair. His name is David. He was one of those kids rescued by International Rescue. Well, after his family took him home, they discovered their home was just trashed. Like a bomb exploded. They lost everything they had except what they had on them. They came here. That little kid lost his own room with all his toys, computers and clothes. And yet, he's got to be the happiest little guy I've ever met. All because he was rescued by International Rescue."
Looking down on his board, Brian grinned. "Ah, we have a table about to open and it's all yours. Should be cleaned off in about two minutes here."
When Brian checked, the table was cleaned off. A cloth napkin was folded in the water glass and shiny silverware was set for her along with a menu. Brian led her to the table, helped her sit down, and then told her the server would be along soon. "What would you like to drink?"
"Hot coffee, ice water with lemon, and I take both cream and sugar." she answered.
"Hey lady," she heard someone say.
"Okay, this rates! They serve hash! Oh man, I want the hungry man plate." Suddenly, she realized someone was next to her. "Hi, I'd like the hungry man breakfast--Hold it. You don't look like a waiter."
Next to her sat David in his slightly scuffed wheelchair, laughing at her. "I can't be a waiter!"
"Actually, you could do it. Even do what the host does. The arms of your chair would be perfect for carrying trays for a start." Getting down near where only he could hear, she said, "And if you took a lady's hand to take her to her table? She'd be gushing! She'd think you were the sweetest thing since cinnamon rolls."
David laughed. "You're kidding?!"
With her brightest smile, Heather assured him, "Cross my heart and hope to die!"
"Look what I got!"
Looking at the outstretched wrist, Heather smiled knowingly at the bar coded bracelet with the IR stamp on it. "I got rescued by International Rescue! That's what I wanna do. Do you know how to become an International Rescue person?" Davy asked her.
"Boy, that's a pretty darn good question, I must say," Heather responded, blushing. That was the last thing she thought she'd ever be asked. She was thinking about a lowly job position, and he wanted the most intense job of all.
"Our home was wrecked by a tornado," Davy told her, not looking for an answer as many kids his age do. "But it's okay. I got to meet International Rescue. They come out only when somebody's hurt!"
"That's what I hear."
His next question surprised her. "Did something bad happen to you?"
She stared at him. Perceptive little kid! "What makes you say that?" she asked.
"You're eyes drooped for a minute just like my mom's did when she had to tell me our house was gone."
"As a matter of fact, I lost my home, too," Heather said wistfully. "I think it's no big deal and yet, it is a big deal." From the corner of her eye, she could see his parents studying their meals very intently, listening in.
"I have to talk about it, because if I don't, it hurts. If it hurts me, it hurts Mom. She loves me a lot. Daddy, too. They pretend it's no big deal, too, but I know it does."
"David, that is very wise. There's a lot of grownups that have a lot of trouble understanding that. If you stay as wise as you are, you can go anywhere you wish."
"Maybe even International Rescue?"
"Maybe International Rescue," she answered him with a smile.
A tall, sandy-haired man got up from his table next to Heather's and walked over. Heather noticed the jeans and denim shirt. He wore a chain of wooden beads. "I'm sorry, Miss. Davy, you still have to finish breakfast. Come on back to the table now."
Heather watched as David was led back to the table next to her as her own waiter came with her menu. She hadn't talked to the tyke for very long, but as she caught him spinning the band on his wrist, she smiled. David was so excited to be rescued by International Rescue; he wanted to become one just to return the favor.
On the way back to her room after breakfast, she made a mental list of the phone calls she had to make. As she made her way down the hallway to the elevators, she thought to herself how lucky she really had it as compared to David. I knew International Rescue rescued people from dire danger. Everyone knows that, but do they have any idea about the kind of inspiration they give? And good jumping grief, they've asked me to be one of them! My stars, that's a lot of responsibility! And they want me.
Catching the elevator back upstairs, Heather decided that the first call she had to make was to Jeff Tracy. He'd waited long enough and so had she.
Post by AmandaTracy on 10/18/2006
[Updated on: Sun, 22 July 2012 18:47] Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #116 is a reply to message #115] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:42 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Brandon crumpled the message in his hands. It had been a terse communication, written in Kyrano's neat script, telling him only, "Emergency, call Shannon." Emily Tracy had given it to him, along with a sympathetic smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder, after the debriefing.
"I hope everything is all right," she'd murmured.
It wasn't. He'd called Shannon right away, and gotten her voice mail at first. He'd called again, a couple of hours later, even knowing that it was nearly midnight there. And again, around 2 a.m. in San Diego. He called his parents' house at similar intervals, and got the same results. Then he'd stayed up half the night to see if she'd call. She had no idea what time zone he was really in; she thought he was in Hawaii. Finally, at 3:30 a.m., she called back.
"Where the hell have you been, Brandon?" she shouted. Her eyes were red, obviously from crying, but she was angry, too. "I call, and I find out that you're "out". Just "out". And the old man wouldn't tell me where, and told me you couldn't be reached and would I like to leave a message?" She shook her head sharply. "Where the hell were you?"
"I was working, okay?" Brandon said, irritably. "And no, I couldn't be reached. I called as soon as I got your message." He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Now, tell me; what's the emergency?"
Shannon bit her lower lip and swallowed hard. Tears filled her voice as she said, "It's Mom and Dad. They... they were in an accident. A car accident. Hit by a drunk driver."
"Oh no," he whispered. "No." His voice rose. "Dammit, no!" Getting control of himself again, putting his feelings aside so he could do something, anything, he asked, "Where are they? What condition are they in?"
"They're... they're in the hospital. In San Diego. Mom's got a broken hip, and some facial lacerations. Dad... Dad's still in ICU. The airbags probably saved his life, but they're not giving much hope that he'll be able to walk again." She looked at Brandon, tears running down her cheeks. "I... I needed you, bro! I... I just couldn't handle it."
"Shhhhh," he said softly. "I know, sis, I know. Listen, I'm going to get out there as soon as possible, okay. I'll ask for a leave of absence right away, and be with you... as soon as I can be." He had no idea how long it would take to get to San Diego, and his head was spinning too much to do any calculations. Besides, someone was going to have to fly him home.
"Please come soon?" she pleaded. "I'm at Mom and Dad's now. I couldn't stay at the hospital another second!"
"I'll be there soon," Brandon promised. "Now, get some rest. I'm coming."
"Okay. I'll try." Shannon sniffed, and ran her finger across the base of her nose. But she seemed calmer. "Love you, Bran."
"I love you, too, Shan," he replied, giving her an encouraging smile. "Talk to you soon."
"Bye."
The connection was cut, and Brandon huffed out a deep sigh. What am I going to do? Mr. Tracy's not here to approve leave. He shook his head. I guess I'll just have to ask Virgil in the morning... later in the morning. In the meanwhile, I'd better try for a couple of hours' sleep.
He set his alarm for 6:30, and lay down on his bed. But despite his physical exhaustion, sleep eluded him, and he got up to pack his clothes for his anticipated trip home.
xxxx
8:00 a.m., the dining room
Brandon took a deep breath, and stepped inside. He hadn't been to breakfast with the Tracys since his early days as a recruit; after a while it seemed like an imposition, and an intrusion. But now... he knew he couldn't wait on this.
All eyes turned toward him. He noticed John sitting with his brothers, and Gordon trying to deal with Joshua. Tin-Tin came out of the kitchen with a platter piled high with waffles and smiled at him as she put the plate down. "Will you be joining us, Brandon?"
He shook his head. "No, but thanks anyway." Focusing his eyes on Virgil, he asked, "Could I see you for a few moments, Virgil? Privately?"
Virgil glanced at his brothers as if to ask, "Any ideas?" The responses, made in body language so subtle and familiar to the family, passed back with a resounding, "I've got nothing". Virgil looked up at Brandon and nodded, smiling. "Sure, Brandon. Will upstairs do?"
"Yeah," Brandon replied.
They left the dining room together and got as far as the study. Virgil made to stop there, but Brandon continued into the lounge. "This is an official request," he explained as he waited for Virgil to sit behind the desk. "I'd like to make it in an official way."
"All right, then," Virgil said as he sat down and waved Brandon to a chair. "What's on your mind?"
Brandon took a deep breath and began to explain the situation. Virgil nodded solemnly; his brows knit with a sympathetic look. He opened up the laptop on his father's desk, not Jeff's own but another one, linked to the Tracy Industries server and the IR one, just as his father's was. "How long do you need?"
"I... don't know," Brandon admitted. "I'm thinking this will be open-ended."
Virgil nodded. "How soon can you be ready?"
"How soon do you need me to be?"
Virgil smiled slightly. "John, my grandmother, and I are going to Kansas to sift through the rubble of the house. We're stopping in Los Angeles for a bit so we can see Dianne. We're leaving here at 10, and should get into L.A. around 7:30 in the evening... yesterday." His smile increased a bit at the small jest. "I can arrange transportation for you from L.A. to San Diego." He glanced up at Brandon. "Will that work?"
Brandon sighed with relief. "It sure will," he replied. "I'll be down at the hangar at 10."
"Good man." Virgil got up and the two walked the length of the lounge. "Have you had breakfast?"
"No," Brandon said, shaking his head.
"Then you'd better come down and have some," Virgil advised. "My grandmother will not be pleased if you leave the island hungry."
Post by Tikatu on 10/18/2006
[Updated on: Sun, 22 July 2012 18:47] Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #117 is a reply to message #116] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:43 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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After realizing that calling the Tracys so early for her, would mean a late night call for them, Heather spent the day calling family and getting her insurance claim started. Finally, she felt she had put off her most important call long enough. "It's now or never. No guts, no glory!" Tapping the phone number into the communications remote, she heard a ring.
In the hospital, Jeff and Scott sat in the waiting room, waiting for Dom and Angel to discharged, while Dianne had been sent back down for more scans. At that moment, a call came through to Jeff's cellphone. He took it from his pocket, glad for the new uniform that had pockets, and flipped it open. "Regis Hotel..." he muttered. "Wichita... don't know anyone at the Regis."
At that moment, the door opened, and Drew poked his head in. "We're back."
Jeff glanced over at Scott and held out the ringing phone. "Here, you take it."
Scott sighed. "Yes, sir." He took the phone, and Jeff quickly left with Drew. Scott locked the door behind him, made sure the curtains were drawn, and removed his hat, visor, and jacket. He was glad he had opted for a t-shirt; there was no logo on the collar to give his real job away. He sighed again, ran a hand through his hair, and pushed a button on the phone. "Scott Tracy here."
"Hi Scott. This is Heather. Is your father there?"
Scott glanced over at the locked door, and internally shook his head. He returned to smile at Heather. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to do, Heather. My father's kind of... occupied."
The slight tightness in Scott's voice told Heather that he was under some stress. Something's wrong. "Hi Scott. I won't keep you. I just wanted to let Jeff know I am accepting his offer."
Scott smiled, the first genuine smile he'd had... well, it felt like ages. "That's terrific, Heather! I'm really glad you're coming aboard. When would you want to come out?"
He heard her laughing in the background. "Well, I'm thinking in a week. I have some shopping I need to do. I'll need to get clothes, luggage--the works. Do you recommend anything for tropical weather?" she asked.
He smiled again. "Well, things aren't too terribly tropical just yet. Light clothes in light colors are always good."
"Okay. I could fly myself out there in about seven days. Or maybe give it seven days, plus the flying time."
Nodding, Scott replied, "Sounds good. Do you want a co-pilot? Someone who actually knows how to get there?"
"Yes, that would be nice. When and where? You know we could make plans later in the week. I know you've had your hands full with 'business'," she offered.
He thought for a moment. "Let me get back to you on that. At the moment, we're flying back and forth from home to Los Angeles, but we should have someone heading out to Wichita in a few days. I'll see who's available. Can I reach you at home?"
Heather found herself biting her lip. The image of her home whole and intact, came to mind again. "You can call me at the Regis Hotel. I'm in suite 15B," she answered.
"All right," Scott said, committing the room number to memory. He wanted to know why this gal was staying in a hotel, but didn't want to intrude on her privacy. Maybe Dad or I can find out with a call to her supervisor. We'll need to confirm her "transfer" anyway. "I'll give you a call, say Thursday?"
"I'll be looking forward to it." she answered. "Scott, how are things?" she suddenly asked.
Scott paused, gathering his thoughts. He moistened his lower lip with his tongue, then gave Heather a lopsided smile. "Rough, Heather. My stepmother's in the hospital, as are two of the family nurses. The nurses should be released today, but we're not sure how long Mom will be here." He stopped and sighed. "On top of that, our family homestead was destroyed by the tornadoes. I mean, it wasn't like we were living there full-time or anything, but it was still full of memories - lots of good memories."
"I'm so sorry, Scott. Is there--anything--I can do?" Knowing there really wasn't anything she could do, she was glad to have offered anyway.
He shook his head. "No, not really. We'll be out to sort through things in a couple of days. Just keep Mom in your thoughts, okay?"
"I will, and you as well. I get the feeling you put your share of work in yesterday."
"You got that right," he said wryly. He glanced at his watch. "I'd better go and see if the nurses are ready for discharge yet. I'll talk to you on Thursday. Regis Hotel, suite 15B."
"Goodbye, Scott," she said.
"Bye, Heather."
After he hung up, she sat and analyzed what he'd said as she looked out the window at the sky. "Funny. His face lit right up when I called. The pressure must be enormous!"
As he closed the phone, he smiled. Best news I've had all day, and maybe news that'll make Dad smile as well. Now, if Dom and Nikki are ready to go home, that'll be a load off my mind!
--decision finalized by AmandaTracy and Tikatu, posted 10/19/2006
[Updated on: Sun, 22 July 2012 18:44] Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #118 is a reply to message #117] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:46 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Monday, Aug 6, 11 a.m., T. I. time, over the Pacific en route to L.A.(4 p.m., Aug 5, L.A.)
"So, what happened?"
John glanced over at his brother, whose brown eyes seemed to be staring straight ahead. John couldn't be sure though since Virgil was wearing his best, most concealing pair of Ray-Bans.
"What do you mean, 'what happened'?"
"You've been out of sorts since we took off," Virgil explained. "I want to know why."
John sighed and his shoulders drooped. "Have I been that obvious?"
"To me, yes. To Grandma, you scream discontented."
Virgil had gone back to use the single toilet a quarter hour previously and been collared by his grandmother on the way back with a single order, "Find out what's eating your brother."
Making a face, John shook his head. "I should have known. There's no having a bad mood around this family; someone is always going to try and jolly you out of it."
It was Virgil's turn to shake his head, and roll his eyes in the bargain. "I'm not going to try and jolly you out of it. If you want to have a snit, that's your prerogative. But I'd like to know where it's coming from so I can duck if necessary."
There was silence, and Virgil was ready to poke his brother again, when John spoke. "It's... it's everything, I guess. Mostly the hellish day we all had yesterday. Two rescues that turned into three; three of our operatives injured. Our stepmother in surgery; Seven in pieces; Scott telling Dad off; the farmhouse... I was so stressed out. Still am, in fact."
"And Kat?"
John groaned. "She picked the worst time."
Just before they had left, Kat had approached the plane, smiling. She and John had words together, the result of which had Kat's smile dissolving into a distressed look, and John frowning as he slammed his bag into the cargo hatch and stalked off.
"What did she say?" Virgil asked, trying to sound uninterested... and failing.
"She was very sympathetic at first; saying how glad she was to see me 'even under such trying circumstances'. But then she wanted to know if we could spend some time together while I was down. Offered to cook me a meal." John dropped his head, shaking it slowly. "I told her that I had other, more important things to do and I didn't think I'd have time." He sighed heavily again. "I was short with her, and I shouldn't have been. But... it was as if she didn't even care that all this stuff was going on in our family. As if the only thing that was important was our... relationship."
It was Virgil's turn to be silent, and John despaired of hearing anything more from his brother. "Well?" he asked.
"Well what?"
"What do you think?"
Virgil glanced at him. "I promised I wouldn't try to jolly you out of anything."
When John groaned, he added, "Listen. You're right about being sharp; whatever your current emotional status, you had no right to take it out on her. I'm sure she saw your being planetside as an opportunity, but I'm equally certain she is fully aware of what's going on."
"You are trying to jolly me."
"No," Virgil stated emphatically. "I am not. I'm just pointing out to you what you yourself have already realized, and a possible reason why she might have approached you. You owe her an apology, if nothing else."
The heavy sigh sounded again. "I know. And I'll apologize to her. But..."
"But what?"
"I don't know. I guess I thought she'd have more thought for me, for our family. Once she asked if we could spend time together, it sounded as if her opening sentiments were... insincere. Like her first words were just the opening to 'Could we perhaps spend some time together when you return?' Not thinking of me or our family, just... us -- whatever that might be."
"I think you've made that clear." Still, Virgil wondered about his brother and the friendship he was pursuing. I have a feeling that John doesn't put the same weight on this relationship of theirs as she does, at least, not yet. And one would think she'd be more sympathetic, especially since John was the only one who worked all three rescues... and simultaneously at that.
He glanced at John, who was leaning back, eyes closed. Relationships are the last thing on his mind right now. Kat probably should have realized that.
"Hey," he said, giving John a poke. "Why don't you go back and get some more rest? I'll be fine for an hour or so." He smiled. "Besides, I'd rather not hear you snore."
John nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." He took off his headset and hooked it over the copilot's steering yoke. "Holler if you need some help." He rose, then paused before he left the cockpit. "And for the record," he said, "I don't snore."
With that last shot he left, and Virgil snorted a laugh. "Wonder if Gordon still has that tape..."
Post by Tikatu on 10/20/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #119 is a reply to message #118] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:49 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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"Well, this isn't much fun," Dom said.
Paul, the nurse who had been enlisted to help him dress, held open the IR issue jacket.
"Strange being on the other side, is it?" He asked.
"Yeah."
The job was quickly done, and Paul stepped over to the door of the small private room. Dominic checked around to ensure he hadn't left anything behind, before following the other nurse out onto the busy corridor. He was immediately flanked by two members of hospital security, and Paul beckoned him on.
"This way. The others from your organisation are waiting for you."
Dom was glad for the cap and visor he was wearing as part of his uniform as many sets of eyes slid his way. He had to admit, if a member of IR had walked near him before he became one of them, he would have been one of the first to try and get a good look at them. Now...it was strange being on the other side indeed.
Nikki was already waiting with Scott and Jeff when he arrived. The blue uniforms of the IR operatives were almost lost amid a sea of darker-garbed security personnel.
"How are you, Tynan?" Jeff asked.
Dominic had to look for a moment longer than usual to recognise the face behind the beard. If the situation wasn't so grim, and he wasn't still so tired, he might even have chuckled.
"I'm fine, sir."
"Well, let's get moving, people," Scott said.
He and the nurses made a swift exit from the hospital, and were soon winging their way back home.
Post by ArtisticRainey on 10/23/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #120 is a reply to message #119] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:50 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Sunday, August 5; 8 PM; Baltimore (5 PM, Los Angeles, 12 PM August 6, Tracy Island)
David and Sheila's home wasn't tiny, but when you put eighteen people into it, it began to seem that way. Lena's whole family had gone there for a belated celebration of Zuberi and Dalila's second birthday (David and Sheila had had a small celebration with their twins on their actual birthday, the first.). Sheila's mother, father, and older brother plus his wife were there, too
The twins, Siti, Naomi and Kevin were all sitting on the floor. Kevin was playing with Zuberi and his newly acquired stuffed lion, which was very soft and almost half the size of its owner. Naomi and Siti were playing hide-and-seek with Siti's new favorite blankie, a present from her aunt and uncle, David and Mai.
The conversation had been fairly general, but turned to the latest International Rescue outing and the consequences. "I heard on the way over that their medical vehicle got the worst damage, although one of the team members -- the CMO -- was pretty badly injured. However, the latest updates say the CMO will recover," said Sheila's mother.
"Dat's good to know, Patricia," replied Lena. "Dey do so much to help people, I tink it would be a great loss if dey had to shut down for any reason. Aldough I don't believe de loss of one or two of deir operatives would cause dem to shut down."
Naomi looked up at her grandmother. "I wish I knew who those people were. I'd love to give them a hug and thank them."
Lena hid her smile, made difficult when Kevin retorted, "If you knew, Naomi, the whole world would know within twelve hours. And they do need their security."
When the laughter died down, and Naomi had retaliated by throwing a bow at her brother that had been missed when the gift wrappings had been cleared away, Lena replied, "Well, honey, since you don't know who dey are, you can never know when you have hugged one of deir people. So spread your hugs around."
Siti, had been toddling around, getting attention -- and especially hugs -- from as many people as she could, stopped in front of Kevin and squatted slightly. A moment later, he screwed up his face and exclaimed, "Whoa! I think someone's ripe enough to be picked!"
There was more laughter as Leslie started to get up, but was stopped by E.J., who declared he'd take care of it. He picked up his daughter and headed down the hall to the twins room, where they'd left the diaper bag. He almost stopped and turned around when Kevin said, "What have you been feeding that kid, Leslie? That has to have been the worst smell I've ever experienced!"
Joy jumped in before Leslie could answer. "It isn't the worst I've ever smelled, young man. You could clear a room faster than anyone I've ever known when you were that age."
"Aww, Mom!"
A few minutes later, E.J. returned, with Siti asleep on his shoulder, and the diaper bag over the other. He glanced down to see Zuberi sprawled on his lion, also asleep. "I think it's time this party broke up, as much fun as it's been. This one fell asleep when I was cleaning her. And it is a workday -- and a school day -- tomorrow."
There was a general agreement, and everyone rose and began to collect their things. Naomi carefully picked up Dalila, who was half asleep wound up in her blanket, and yawning. She took her down the hall, followed by Sheila with Zuberi and the lion. They returned a few minutes later to say that both birthday children were out like lights. It took another twenty minutes for goodbyes, and last minute tidbits of information to be expressed, but soon the visitors were in their vehicles and on their way home.
As David closed their front door, Sheila moved into his arms. "We are so lucky. We have wonderful families."
"Yes we do." He put his arms around her, holding her close. "And we've started another one."
"Mmm." She put her head on his shoulder for a moment, then raised it and looked into his eyes. "Oh, guess what Naomi said while we were putting the twins down."
"What?"
"You know how she likes to write. She told me she got an idea for a story about Zuberi. She's going to write it and send it to us. She even has the title - Zuberi and the Lion."
Post by Hobbeth on 10/28/2006 11:04 AM
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #121 is a reply to message #120] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:52 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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The flight home seemed to take twice as long as usual, despite the fact they were in Thunderbird One and flying at top velocity. Dominic rubbed at his eyes with one hand; Scott's request for landing clearance was bliss. His fingers were clumsy as he tried to unbuckle the seat restraint, and he almost had to drag himself to his feet and force himself out the door. He followed Nikki across the gangway to the villa, followed closely by Scott. It felt surreal, not only swinging through the wall to TB1's silo, but backwards, too. He suppressed a laugh; no one else would get it.
"Da!"
His eyes had found the source of the squeal before it had sounded, and an easy smile spread across Dominic's face. Joshua broke free of Tin-Tin's grasp and bounded across the room. His small feet tripped over each other, however, and he fell hard onto the ground, skidding a few meters. Dominic forgot his own troubles and rushed forwards to scoop the child up as the inevitable wail filled the air.
"It's all right lad, it's okay. Sure you're fine aren't you? You're fine. Aaah, you're fine."
The child continued crying, and Dominic stood up. He stilled as he did so, however, and squeezed his eyes shut -- My neck...aiyee...
"Are you okay, Dom?" Nikki asked.
"Yes, I am," he said, as the pain had subsided. "I'm only back two minutes and you're causin' trouble for me already," he said, kissing his son's forehead.
Joshua didn't stop crying.
"Aww, come on wee man, we'll get you sorted. We'll get you sorted."
He nodded his goodbyes to those in the room, and headed back towards his apartment, the grogginess temporarily cleared by the needs of a tired child.
Post by ArtisticRainey on 10/28/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #122 is a reply to message #121] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:54 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Tracy Island - Monday, August 6th
As she made her way back to Thunderbird Two's hangar, Kat was thinking about the conversation she had had with John. She had honestly thought that he would have liked to spend some time with her, after he had visited Dr Tracy in hospital. Of course she had been sorry about the circumstances surrounding his arrival on Tracy Island, and had thought that by asking him to spend time with her, she could help him. However, his comments had somewhat shocked her. How could he have said those things to me? I was only trying to help.
Arriving at the hangar, she headed once more to the pod that housed the DOMO. Climbing aboard the vehicle, she continued with her work carrying out the normal checks. For quite a while the young mechanic worked on the vehicle, making sure that the grabs were fully working. Remembering the episode with the jetpack, she worked slowly, testing everything thoroughly after she had checked it. Finally satisfied that the DOMO would be ready when next needed, she turned her attention to the Firefly. Just as she was about to start, she began to experience that familiar dizzy feeling. Oh, no! I had such an early breakfast. Fetching the sandwiches and drink she had brought with her, she settled down to eat.
Without warning, her thoughts returned to the recent rescues. That had been such a traumatic time for everyone. The rescue of those hit by the tornado, the space rescue, Dr Tracy, Nikki and Dom being caught up in the twister, and finally, the total destruction of the Tracy farm - no wonder John had been so terse with her. She began to think back to their conversation. Was I too pushy? Could I have said or done things differently?
Her thoughts then turned to her own family. She was well aware that she had to be discreet when talking to her family about her job. True she had found it difficult lying to them, but that didn't excuse her not writing more often. She remembered back to when she was working away, and that on her visits home, how often her mother had looked tired. How could I have overlooked that? I'd been so excited at getting a job with Lady Penelope that everything else seemed to fade into insignificance. But during those four years was I really so blind to events around me? And then I was recruited to International Rescue, and left without a second thought for my family.
Oh Mum, we were so close once. What's happened? Surely I should have noticed, and again she couldn't get rid of those disturbing thoughts that maybe she could have done things differently.
Realising that she was daydreaming and that she had spent longer on her lunch break than she intended, she brought her mind back to the work in question. After completing the checks on the Firefly, she again tested the vehicle and once satisfied, started work on the Excavator. The time went quickly and having carried out the final checks, she glanced at her watch. Heavens! It's later than I thought. It's gone 6.00pm. The young mechanic tidied up her tools, washed her hands, and wearily headed back to the monorail to Cliff House.
She thought about visiting Nikki and Dom on the way, but then decided against it. They'll probably be tired, and I don't think I could bear anyone else being short with me today. I'll visit them tomorrow.
After she had cooked and finished her evening meal, Kat sat at her computer. Remembering the recent rescue and the Tracy's farm destroyed by the tornado, she began to type.
Post by Tawnyangel22 on 10/28/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #123 is a reply to message #122] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:54 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Monday, August 6, 12:45 a.m., Tracy Island (5:45 p.m., previous day, Los Angeles)
"Tin-Tin to Gordon."
Gordon glanced at his watch and fumbled with the activation button. It felt funny to be using it now; the earpieces had become second nature... almost. "Gordon here."
"Thunderbird One has just landed."
Gordon glanced over at Alan, who was fitting a power connection to Thunderbird Seven's medical cabin. The connection would be linked to the engines of Recovery Vehicle One, and would activate the still-functional hover jets under the cabin. They'd be able to easily tow the larger piece up to the pod vehicle repair bay next to Brains's lab.
"Thanks, Tin-Tin. We'll be up soon."
Alan glanced at Gordon. "One of us needs to take the desk, right? Scott's going to need some rest, and Tin-Tin's in charge of the kitchen, too."
Gordon sighed heavily. "Right." He glanced around at the pod. He, Alan, and Kat had moved the intact pieces of equipment out, and Kat was busy working on the pod vehicles. Callie was doing post-rescue maintenance on Three, while Elise was working in Two. Early that morning, before Virgil and John left, a good hour or more had been given to figuring out just how to move Seven out of the pod. He still wasn't sure how they were going to move the control cabin.
Glancing that way, he saw the doorway he had cut, and beyond it, the spider web of cracks in the windshield. He took in a sharp breath, and shuddered slightly.
I was so focused on what I was doing. Just cut the door. I couldn't let my mind do anything else, go anywhere else, think anything else. If I had, I might have lost it. I almost did when we got inside. Dom had just finished cutting Mom's leg free. There was a small pool of blood on the floor... I mean the ceiling, a small puddle of it, her blood. I couldn't take my eyes off it for a moment. When I looked at Mom, she was so pale, and hiding her fear. I could tell by the set of her mouth... when the hell did I get so good at reading her? Then I got that call, and Dom took it, and she started vomiting... I felt like ripping those restraints off and pulling her down myself. But we had to do it the cautious way, the safe way... we were so damned lucky...
"You okay, Gords?"
Alan's voice and grip on his arm brought Gordon's thoughts back from the dark place they'd been heading. He shook his head. "Not really, Al." He nodded toward the cabin. "I'm not looking forward to pulling that out."
"Then let me do it."
Gordon stared at Alan, who walked away, taking the lines to the power link with him. "What did you say?"
"I said, let me do it," Alan reiterated. He slid under the recovery vehicle to make the connections, and his voice became muffled. "You're better at taking the desk, anyway." He worked for a few moment, then slid back out from under. He brushed his hands on his overalls, and began to pick up his tools. "There, done. As I was saying, you're better at taking the desk for a few hours. And... I have the advantage of not having been there... if that's an advantage." He glanced at his watch. "Speaking of the desk, we'd better get going. Scott's probably already waiting on us. Besides, I want to see Nikki."
Gordon's eyebrow went up. "Nikki?"
Alan stopped what he was doing. "Yeah. Nikki. She's become a... a friend."
Gordon bit back what he was going to say, and instead just nodded. "Okay. Let's get up there before Scott comes down looking for us."
They left the pod, and Alan glanced toward where Kat had been working on the auxiliary vehicles. "I don't see Kat, do you?"
"No. She's probably gone to grab some lunch. We'll see her upstairs."
Alan shrugged, and the two made their way to the monorail terminal.
Post by Tikatu on 10/28/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #124 is a reply to message #123] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:55 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Sunday, August 5, 2068, 8:30 p.m., local time, Los Angeles (Monday, August 6, 3:30 p.m., Tracy Island)
"John, dear, would you get that?" a weary Emily asked. "It must be room service."
John nodded, and got up from the sofa in their multi-bedroom suite. He was concerned for his grandmother; the flight to Los Angeles had been physically taxing on her. He knew that the emotional fallout had yet to come. She wanted to see Dianne; she wanted to see the children, but there was just no time, not then. Besides, the security issues at the hospital precluded her from getting inside. Virgil and John had toyed with the idea of trying to get in by wearing their uniforms, but a quick consultation with Jeff had shot down the idea.
"You have no idea what's going on around here," Jeff had told them. "The hospital is surrounded by crowds, and more IR members would worsen the situation. We'll figure out a way to get everyone in as soon as possible, but for now, it's better that you stay away."
John opened the door, expecting a cart and liveried hotel personnel. "Lady Penelope!" he cried.
"Hullo, John. May we come in?" Lady Penelope smiled. She looked her sleek and stylish self, and Parker, dressed in his gray chauffeur livery, hovered in behind her.
"Of course, of course!" John stepped back to allow the pair entrance. "Grandma, Lady Penelope's here."
"I'm not deaf, John," Emily said testily. She rose and took both of Penny's outstretched hands. "It's good to see you, Penelope." They sat together on the smaller sofa. "But what brings you here?"
"Why Dianne and Jeff, of course," Penny replied. The door chime sounded again. "Parker."
"Yus, milady." Parker went off to answer the door, just as if he were home at Foxleyheath, returning with the cart from room service and the hotel staff who were there to set the small table and serve the food.
"Please excuse us, Lady Penelope, for eating in your presence," Emily said as Virgil guided her to the table.
"Of course, Mrs. Tracy," Penny said. "I have already supped, and I believe Parker has done the same."
The staff departed, and Parker made sure the door was closed and locked behind them. Parker moved one of the wing chairs close to the table so that they could continue their discussion as the Tracys ate.
"I was able to gain access to the hospital through the auspices of our physician-agent," Penelope said. "I wished to see security measures for myself, and of course, visit briefly with Jeff and Dianne."
"How is she?" Emily asked.
"She is not in pain; the medications they are giving her are working well. However, they make her drowsy. Dr. Carmichael is of the opinion she will fully recover, given time and rest."
"Can we get in to see her?" Virgil asked.
"Not at the moment, I fear," Penelope replied regretfully. "However, we are working on a plan to allow for visits without compromising security."
"How did you get in?" John asked, frowning.
Penelope smiled slightly. "I was allowed into the hospital building in disguise, wearing a dark wig."
"Wanda Lamour?" Virgil asked, smiling a little.
Penelope nodded. "Yes, or much like her. Then I changed into my uniform..."
"Uniform?" Both John and Virgil were stunned at this news. "Since when?" John asked.
"Jeff thought it prudent for me to have a version of the uniform if I ever needed to appear in an official manner," Penelope replied. She took the cup of coffee that was offered to her with a murmured, "Thank you", and continued. "Of course, I am to always disguise myself further, with a different hair color and perhaps a beauty mark that would draw attention to itself -- and that I myself do not have." She took a sip of coffee and added, "The trim is a light pink, of course. And I wore a skirt for the occasion."
"Wow." Virgil shook his head. "The things Dad does that he doesn't tell us about."
"I am under the impression that my uniform was an afterthought," Penelope said. "No matter. I was able to see the security measures for myself, and later, discussed the option of moving Dianne from hospital temporarily, then returning her to it as herself. Dr. Carmichael seemed to think it was a feasible plan, as long as the move was temporary. We will have it appear that 'Doc' has been discharged to another facility, and that Dianne Tracy, auto accident victim, has been admitted to hospital to be under the care of her uncle." She sipped her coffee again. "He was gratified to hear the plan; hospital administration is less than pleased about the extra security expense."
"I'm sure that Jeff will make it worth their while financially," Emily said tartly. "You'd think they'd be considering more than the bottom line on a few guards to keep people away from her room."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Tracy. The internal security is not the issue." Penelope hastened to explain. "They are quite used to having celebrities of all stripes visiting and using the secure wing. The external security is the problem. No one foresaw the crowds that have gathered."
"Crowds? What crowds? Why should crowds be there?" Emily asked, looking puzzled.
Virgil hastened to explain. "Grandma, they're there because... well, because of us. Because of what we do. If you could have seen the crowds in Ust'-Uls after the rescue in the Ural Mountains. They lined the streets, cheering as we came back into the city after dealing with the avalanche victims. We are hardly ever in a populated center long enough for people to actually come and say 'Thank you', but when we are, they do. In droves."
"The crowds around the hospital contain more than well-wishers this time, Virgil," Penelope said. She sighed lightly. "There are also protesters..."
"Protesters?" John asked. "What the hell could they be protesting?"
"John! Language!" Emily said sharply.
"Sorry, Grandma," John said in an apologetic tone. "Still, I don't see what they could possibly be protesting."
"Nor can I," Penelope said. "But I am informed that there are some present, and that there have been some altercations between them and IR supporters." She put down her now-empty coffee cup. "Both the hospital and the local police will be pleased when we have withdrawn our presence."
There was a pause, then Virgil said, "Whew! What a mess!" He shook his head. "What do you need us to do?"
"At the moment, to continue with your plans. I shall be in touch with Scott about the arrangements."
"You might want to have Thunderbird Two fly Dianne away," Virgil said. "She's got the sickbay and all. Elise can do the honors."
"An excellent idea, Virgil. We also have considered using a Tracy Industries helijet to bring Dianne back to the hospital."
"Elise would be good for that, too. She's on the payroll as Dad's pilot."
"I hate the fact that we are all stretched so thin," Emily complained. "But there's just no way around it right now."
"Does Dad know about Brandon?" John asked suddenly.
"Brandon?" Penelope looked puzzled. Parker began clearing the small table, moving dishes to the room service cart.
John sighed. "Brandon was called home for a family emergency, Lady Penelope. We flew him here and had Tracy Industries supply a ride to San Diego for him."
"Oh dear," Penelope said, shaking her head. "Jeff may not be aware of it."
"If he isn't, Scott will be sure to tell him," Virgil said. "When will this transfer happen?"
"Dr. Carmichael and I have planned this for Tuesday. He believes Dianne will be up to the move then."
"We'll be returning soon after that," Emily said. "I don't want to spend too long at the farmhouse... or what's left of it."
"You have my deepest sympathies, Mrs. Tracy," Penelope said, putting a soft hand on Emily's arm. "I could not imagine having to sort through the remains of Foxleyheath after such an event."
"Thank you, Penelope," Emily replied. "Most of my keepsakes are on the island, but there are still some things I left to furnish the house. I don't hold out much hope they're salvageable, but we won't know until we get there."
"I hope you will find more than you expect to find," Penelope said. She began to rise, and Parker pulled her chair back for her. "And on that thought, I will take my leave. You will all need a good night's rest to fortify yourselves for the task tomorrow."
"Thank you, Lady Penelope, for coming," Emily replied, smiling a little. "I'm very glad you're here for Jeff and Dianne."
"So am I," Penny responded, giving Emily's hand a squeeze. "I am also happy to make the acquaintance of our newest agents. Dr. Carmichael is an excellent physician and very personable. I am scheduled to meet his wife, and look in on Kyrano, Lisa, and the children in the morning." She smoothed her skirt. "Good night, Mrs. Tracy. Good night, John, Virgil."
"You haven't seen the kids yet?" John asked as he walked her to the door, opening it. Parker wheeled the room service cart out to the corridor.
Penny shook her head. "No, though I have heard they are very anxious to see their mother."
"Thanks. I may give them a call before we leave in the morning. Touch base with them, especially Tyler."
"An excellent idea."
"Good night, Lady Penelope," John said, giving her a small smile. "See you again soon."
"Good night, John."
The door closed behind her and Parker, and John sighed. He returned to the sitting room to find Emily waiting. "Good night, John," she said, reaching up to give him a kiss. "We've got an early start tomorrow."
"I know, Grandma," he replied as he returned the kiss.
"Get some sleep, then. You, too, Virgil." Virgil came over for his own good night kiss. "Don't spend half the night talking."
"We'll sleep, Grandma, I promise," Virgil told her. She nodded, and headed for her bedroom.
John and Virgil glanced at each other as the door closed behind her. Virgil stretched, making a loud groan as he did so. "I'm heading for bed," he said.
"I'll be there soon," John promised. "Just want to check the news."
"Want to see those crowds around the hospital?"
"Yeah." He sat down on the sofa and turned on the televid, beginning to surf the channels.
Virgil sat down beside him. "Then we can watch together."
Post by Tikatu on 10/29/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #125 is a reply to message #124] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:56 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Monday, August 6, 2068, 9:30 a.m., local time, London, England (9:30 p.m., same day, at Tracy Island; 1:30 a.m., same day, Los Angeles)
Jacques sipped his morning tea as he looked over the reports he'd gotten from the mole in Gazelle Automations, Inc. He shook his head. "This is worthless to us. The man hasn't had a military contract in three years and there don't seem to be any on the horizon either. Why would we need automatic bartenders?"
There was a knock on the door, then, without leave, Desdemona breezed in. "Good morning, Jacques," she said cheerily.
Jacques raised an eyebrow and put down the data pad. "You are in a good mood, sister dear. Did somebody die?"
Dez rolled her eyes, and took her favorite chair. "No, but I had a wonderful morning, and I came up with a smashing idea."
"Smashing?" Jacques took another sip of his tea, then sat back with a sigh. "I hope it doesn't mean breaking any more of Giles's bones. We do need him, you know."
"No, Jacques, darling," she said with a smug smile. "I just thought of a new target, one that will prove a challenge for us."
"Oh, and who would that be?"
"International Rescue."
Jacques steepled his fingers, and regarded his sister with a questioning expression. "International Rescue. Hm, why them precisely?"
"Well, they do have some of the most advanced technology available," Desdemona said. She got up to fetch a cup of tea for herself. "And with this accident, they're very likely vulnerable to a spot of pilfering."
Jacques shook his head slowly. "Dez, Dez, Dez. How do we get in? We have no idea who they are or where they are located, never mind knowing anyone who could possibly get inside to get technology specs for us."
"There are people," Desdemona said, returning to her chair. "Those who have been rescued by them! They must have learned things about the group and may even have kept in contact with them after the fact."
"All right, Dez. Name one."
Desdemona's smile grew wider. "Ned Cook, reporter for NTBS. He's going to air his retrospective today, ahead of schedule, from Los Angeles. I even hear he's going to interview their doctor there at hospital."
"Hm." Jacques rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I would like to see that." He sat back up. "All right, Dez. We'll contact him later today, after his show, see what he can do for us." A pause, then he asked, "What luck are you and Giles having with that Penelon formula?"
Dez sighed. "Not much and all of it bad." Her face took on a thoughtful expression. "You know, it's odd that we haven't heard anything about that new Penelon-Kevlar blend that Giles's young friend developed. According to Fatma, a good deal of the fabric was ordered and shipped elsewhere. Nothing with red dye was ordered since it hadn't turned out colorfast, but the rumors are that Tracy found another manufacturer somewhere else who was able to make the red dyes stick." She sipped her tea, leaving marks from her red lipstick on the fine china. "You should think that such a revolutionary discovery would be widely publicized, and that a huge buzz would be created around it. But there's been nothing. It's as if Tracy doesn't want anyone to know of its existence."
"Are you sure that it's Tracy who ordered its development?"
Dez nodded. "Yes, I am. Giles may be a fool, but he does have thorough contacts. Besides, both Fatma and our grubby little window cleaning friend have identified Ms. Kyrano's chaperone. She is Emily Tracy, mother to the famous Jefferson."
"He sent his mother along?" Jacques laughed aloud, throwing his head back. "What possessed the man to do that?!"
"To hear Giles tell it, she was a very good chaperone. Very good at keeping him from his mark."
Jacques's laughter wound down, and he wiped an eye. "It sounds like you and Fatma are on good terms."
"I wouldn't say that, Jacques," Dez replied as she carefully put cup and saucer on the table next to her. "But I can be very... persuasive when I want to be."
"Ah, yes." Jacques's demeanor turned serious again. "I know your methods. They can be very painful."
"But they are very effective," Dez countered sweetly. She rose from her chair, smoothing her skirt as she did so. "Well, this has been fun, but I have work to do. I need to build another virus to try and infiltrate Tracy's stronghold, and come up with something that will block any attacks from that damned Matumbo woman."
"I hope you can," Jacques said, picking up his data pad again. "She seems to be a formidable opponent. If you see Giles, tell him I want to see him... this morning, not this afternoon."
"You should tell him yourself. I doubt I'll see his puffy little face for another week," Dez said airily as she stopped at the door. "Luncheon?"
"If my schedule permits."
Dez nodded, a slight, smug smile on her lips, then left the room. Jacques paid no attention to her leaving. He was already engrossed in his data pad once more.
Post by Tikatu on 10/30/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #126 is a reply to message #125] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 18:58 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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Monday, August 6, 10:00 a.m., L.A. (5 a.m., August 7, Tracy Island; noon, same day, Kansas)
"So, will we be ready?"
Ned Cook glanced over at Joe, who sat down beside him at the table in the RV. "I think so. The roadies are putting up the scaffolding for the stage, and the electricians have started their work. People are getting interested, watching what's going on."
"You think you'll be able to get in and see the IR doctor?"
Ned sighed. "I doubt it, but we've got her orthopedist to interview this morning, and I'm still waiting on that footage from MWAN's Gavin Belle. He struck a hard bargain, but at least I don't have to send our people out there."
"Will he do it live?" Joe picked up one of Ned's data pads and started scrolling down the long list.
Ned shook his head. "It's the last spot, and it'll be dark out there by the time we get to it. He's going to record it and get it to me by one for editing." He put down his data pad and rubbed his temples. "You sure you don't mind doing the man on the street stuff?"
"Nah. I don't mind. I'd rather be out there than stuck up here."
"I'd rather be back in New York, to tell the truth, but this is far too big an opportunity to pass up." Ned picked up another data pad and looked through the notes he had there. "It's custom made to frame my retrospective, and if we have to make next year's a little longer, so be it. A chance like this happens once in a blue moon, and I have to take advantage of it." He glanced at his watch. "That doctor will be along soon. I'd better get make up in here."
"Right." Joe rose. "Let me know what you need help on. I can edit that ISS piece for you if you want."
"Thanks, Joe, that'd be a help. You know what I'm looking for."
"I'd better," Joe said with a chuckle. "We've been working together long enough."
Xxxx
Dr. J. Edward Willis was feeling on top of the world. He would have whistled if he knew how as he strode to the public relations director's office. He was on his way to have his interview with Ned Cook approved, and didn't see any reason why it wouldn't be.
It's not like I'd violate International Rescue's security or anything, he reasoned. I never really saw her face, after all. Not with the anesthesia mask and hair cover. And I won't talk about her injury, either; that would be unprofessional. I mean, it's not like I've even been allowed to follow up either; Carmichael's been very picky about who is let up there. He smiled a little. Still, having IR's CMO for a patient is going to get my career restarted, and so will this interview.
He breezed into Geraldo Montoya's office and told the secretary who he was. "Mr. Montoya's expecting you, Dr. Willis," she said pleasantly, as she activated the vidphone. "Mr. Montoya, Dr. Willis is here."
"I'll be right there."
Willis gave her a smile as Gerry Montoya came out of his office. "Come with me, Dr. Willis," the public relations man said, "We're meeting in the conference room down the hall."
"All right." Willis sounded puzzled, but was amenable. The two men strode down the hall to a small conference room.
"Good morning, gentlemen." Sitting at the head of the table was Dr. Theresa Mercado-Tucker, Mercy General's head administrator.
"Good morning, Dr. Tucker," Willis said smiling. She nodded at him, then at Montoya as he greeted her.
"Well, hello, Andy," Willis said as he saw Andrew Carmichael already seated in one of the comfortable chairs around the table. "Are you here for the same reason I am?"
"I don't think so, Jonah," Drew said, his voice holding just a hint of his original drawl.
"No, he's not," Dr. Tucker said crisply. "Sit down, Dr. Willis, please. We're just waiting for one more person."
Dr. Willis sat down, putting one ankle on the opposite knee. "So, Gerry, did you get the request for an interview?"
"Yes, I did." Gerry picked up a data pad, one of several on the table.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to say 'no' to this, Dr. Willis," Dr. Tucker said firmly.
Willis frowned. "Why? I won't be breaching International Rescue's security or doctor/patient confidentiality."
"We'll get to the reasons in just a moment," was her reply. The conference room door opened again to admit the head of the legal department, Eugene Koberle, who carried a briefcase. "Hello, Gene. Come and sit down."
"Thank you, Dr. Tucker." Koberle shook hands with her, and with each of the men, then sat down. Willis frowned a little, but Drew focused his attention on Dr. Tucker.
"Well, now that we're all here, we can get to the reasons behind our refusal to allow you the interview," she said. "Gene?"
Koberle turned to Willis. "Dr. Willis, I'm here to tell you officially that an investigation has been opened into your handling of the injuries suffered by International Rescue's CMO."
"What?!" Willis cried, incredulous. "What kind of farce is this?"
"No farce, Jonah," Drew said quietly. "Gene, please show him the evidence."
Koberle opened his briefcase, and pulled out two sealed plastic bags, each with a vial in it. There were papers tucked into each bag. He handed one to Willis. "Do you recognize this, Dr. Willis?"
Willis looked it over carefully. "Yes, I believe so. These are the bits of metal I pulled from the patient's leg."
"Do you recognize these?" Gene handed over the other bottle.
Willis shook his head. "They look the same, but..."
"But you didn't pull them from the patient's leg, Jonah. Dr. Singh did, after you left," Drew explained. "There are affidavits written and signed by those in the surgical suite. And this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Jonah, you're in it deep this time."
"So, I missed a few pieces. I would have found them eventually. Anyone could make a mistake like that," Willis said, handing the bags back to Koberle.
"Not on a patient like this, Dr. Willis. You've seen the crowds out there, haven't you? How do you think they'd react if they knew you'd made such a major 'mistake'?" Dr. Tucker said, looking Willis in the eye. She shook her head. "No, Dr. Willis. You will not be giving any interviews."
Koberle spoke up. "We will be conducting our investigation discreetly, of course, for the sake of the hospital."
"But until that investigation is complete," Dr. Tucker said firmly. "Your practicing privileges here are suspended. We will decide later whether or not to refer this to the state authorities."
"This... this... this is ridiculous! I'm a physician... a surgeon in good standing here! You can't do this to me!" Willis shouted. He stood, his face red with anger. "That interview... Ned Cook... that's national exposure. International! I need... I deserve to have that!"
"Jonah." Drew's sharp voice cut across Willis's bluster. "That's enough."
The angry man stopped, and Dr. Tucker added, "Dr. Willis, you say so much as 'boo' to Ned Cook or any other reporter, and the hospital will cut you loose." She lowered her tone. "It's bad enough that this happened in such a high profile case. Don't make it any harder on yourself than it already is."
Willis dropped back down into his seat. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Doesn't look like I have much choice, does it?"
"No, Jonah," Andrew said quietly. "I'm afraid you don't."
"You can call Mr. Cook from my office, so you can give him your regrets," Gerry said, as he rose to his feet.
xxxx
"Damn!" Ned slammed his satellite phone closed.
"What?" Joe asked, directing his attention away from the piece he was editing.
"Dr. Willis has declined to be interviewed." Ned shook his head. "The hospital has reminded him that it's against their policy in high profile cases. Now what am I going to use to fill that time?"
"I'll just do some more 'man on the street' stuff," Joe said. "And there's always a montage to tie things together at the end. Get Sylvia on it; she's good at that kind of stuff."
Ned took in a deep breath and let it out, slowly. "You're right. We can fill it in. I just wish I could talk to either of the doctors who worked on her."
"Hey, Belle may get lucky and talk to one of the EMS workers or something. Just chill, Ned. This will pull together. You'll see."
"All right." He moved over to where Joe had been working on the ISS rescue. "Show me what you've got."
Post by Tikatu on 10/30/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #127 is a reply to message #126] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:00 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Monday, August 6, 1:45 PM,Kansas (11:45 AM same day, L.A.; Tuesday, August 7, 6:45 AM, Tracy Island)
Marion pulled her van up next to the foundation of the Tracy home. Nothing remained above the ground. Debris covered part of the cellar. Other parts of the house were spread out over the surrounding fields. Virgil could see the tractor, bright yellow, upside down about a quarter mile away.
The family climbed out of the car and walked over to one of the open areas in the cellar. Virgil shined a flashlight down the steps. They were clear. Virgil and John went down them. Grandma and Marion followed. Halfway down, Grandma suddenly sat down, as if her legs had suddenly given out.
"Grandma, are you ok?" John turned and went back up the stairs toward her.
"No, I'm not ok. But I'll recover." She smiled, a little shakily. 'I'd lived in this house for 60 years. It's a shock to find something you've always thought of as so solid just," she shivered, "tossed away like this."
"Hey. The storm cellar is still intact. So if anyone had been here, they would have been ok." Virgil shut the door to the side room. "In fact, most of the basement looks untouched."
"When your grandfather's great-grandparents built this place they couldn't afford to build the house at first. So they built the basement and lived in it for two years before building the house. It was built to last." Grandma smiled, a bit sadly. "They had seven kids at the time. If the basement could stand that I suspect the tornado was easy."
"I see you did your canning again last year, Marion. There are plenty of empty jars to do this year's canning." John was looking at shelves of canning jars, still standing as if nothing had happened.
"Hey Grandma," Virgil called. "Here's a bunch of boxes, including your Christmas decorations. And it looks like some boxes of our old stuff."
John wandered over and opened a box at random. "Here are Alan's old cowboy boots. Remember them? And our old rocking horse," he added, noticing it in the corner.
"All the stuff we packed away when we went off to college," Virgil added, opening another box. "Here's Scott's favorite teddy bear. Should we bring it home for him?"
"I think we can safely leave everything in the basement here for right now. We can have everything that's ours shipped latter. Marion," Grandma turned to her old friend, "how hard would it be to hire some of the high school kids to sort through these things and arrange to ship our things to us? And move anything of yours to wherever or put it in storage?"
"I suspect the high school kids will be busy on the farms. But I'm sure I can find someone."
"How long do you want to stay with your grandson in Wichita?" Virgil asked as her as he helped his grandmother up. Coming out of the basement, it was hard to imagine there had ever been a house here.
"We get along all right. I suspect there will be a housing shortage for a while. Are you going to rebuild?"
"I don't know. It depends on what happens to the farm. I don't know if we will want to come back as often, with the original house gone." Virgil started walking through the wreckage looking for anything recognizable. He picked up a deep drawer, lined in tin with a tin sliding top. "Here's your old breadbox drawer. But I don't see the rest of the kitchen cabinet."
"Over here," called John. The old fashioned kitchen cabinet lay smashed into pieces, only recognizable by its paint.
"Oh dear. That was my great-grandmother's. She got it during the Great Depression." Grandma started to walk toward John, then looked at the footing and decided against it.
"I've found two pairs of underwear and one sock. I don't think there is much point in looking for anything else." Marion held up the sock. "I didn't have anything valuable to lose."
"No pictures or anything?" John looked surprised.
"The important ones, I gave copies to other people. I can have them make me a copy. Most of my keepsakes were still in storage after selling my house." Marion smiled at them all. "I needed to stay in the area after Harold died, but now I think this is God's way of telling me it's time to move on. I don't think I could handle another Kansas winter anyway. Let's take a quick look at the barn, and then head back. I need to check on the cat and kittens."
"Cat? Kittens? When did you get a cat?" Emily looked surprised.
"I didn't. Some fool city people still dump their animals out here, figuring we'd feed them cream, I suppose. Most don't survive. A couple did and momma just had kittens a few weeks ago. She's semi-feral, will let me close but won't let me touch her. There are enough mice around for her to hunt so she does ok. I want to live trap her and get her fixed; I've taken several in before, but she's too clever for that." The group walked toward the barn, Virgil still holding the drawer.
The barn was a different sort of mess. One side had been ripped off but the inside was relatively undamaged. Some of the large machinery had been thrown around and tools were scattered everywhere, but there wasn't the large scale destruction like the house. The office and workshop on the other side of the building didn't look like anything had been disturbed at all.
John walked over to the office. "Everything looks ok here. Is that Grandpa's old leather coat and hat?" He pointed to the wall where a coat and hat were hanging from a hook.
Grandma smiled. "I used to use them whenever I needed to come out here to check on anything. There didn't seem to be any reason to pack them."
"The people working your farm use this as a break area," Marion said, pointing at the coffee maker and refrigerator. "They used the workshop too, for repairs. I'd bring them out lunch and I'd use the jacket in the spring and fall when it got chilly."
"Grandpa would like that. He liked to have things used for what they were meant for." John went over and slipped the jacket on. "Way too big for me."
Virgil put down the drawer, as if he suddenly remembered he was carrying it. "Let me try." John handed him the coat, which fit perfectly.
John grabbed the hat from its hook and put it on Virgil's head. "Perfect. Now all we have to do is figure out why you would need a leather jacket on a tropical island."
"Better than leaving it to rot here," Grandma said as she went to the next door.
As soon as she opened it, they all heard the cries. Marion darted in ahead of them and followed the noise to the workbench. She looked underneath and saw momma cat and her kittens. Momma hissed at her and tried to stand up.
"Hey, momma, what's wrong?" Marion reached out for her. The cat struck with lightning fast claws. Momma tried to stand up, lurched forward, and fell down again.
"It looks like she's been injured." Emily looked under the workbench. "If she's been hurt, her milk would dry up. The kittens are probably hungry." She straightened up. "John, go see if there is any milk or meat in the fridge."
"It wouldn't be any good by now. One of the workers is diabetic. He keeps some canned tuna salad in the cupboard for emergencies. Bring that and a bowl of water." Marion sucked on her hand. Blood was already coming from the scratches.
John quickly returned with the tuna salad and a coffee cup filled with water. He knelt down and pushed both of them toward the cat, who hissed at him, but started eating immediately. She only ate a little, but she drank a lot of water. She collapsed as if eating had been too much for her.
"We need to get her to a veterinarian." Emily looked at Marion. "Who do you use?"
"Dr Dodobara. I'll call and set up an emergency appointment." Marion pulled out her cell phone and dialed.
"John, see if you can find some towels or something. Put them in the bottom of that drawer." Grandma's orders would have done a drill sergeant proud. She looked around and spotted a pair of welding gloves. "Virgil, put these on and grab her."
Virgil looked with amusement at the gloves. "Do you really think I need these? And why me?"
"Yes, you will need them and you because you're wearing a leather jacket, which you will also need."
Virgil shrugged and knelt down by the workbench. He grabbed for the mother cat just as John came back with the drawer and a few towels.
"Come here, momma, I'm not going to hurt... ow!! Listen, you stupid cat, stop fighting. I'm not going to hurt you! Stop it!" The unequal struggle continued until Virgil finally brought the cat out. She was still trying to scratch everything in sight when he put her into the drawer and closed the lid. "Next time, remind me to wear Kevlar."
"Ooh, did the little kitty hurt you?" John was grinning.
"Yes, she did. She got me right through the jacket. Just for that, you can get the kittens."
John knelt down and grabbed for one of the kittens. "See, you should just let the... Ouch! These little suckers have sharp claws! Hey! Stop that! Let go!" He handed the first kitten up to Virgil and sucked on his hand where the kitten had bitten him.
Virgil slid open the top of the drawer and dropped the kitten in. Momma still hissed at him but immediately started licking the kitten.
John handed him the second kitten, a little black and white. It wiggled out of his hand. Grandma grabbed it and calmed it down. "Yes, oh mighty hunter. I know what a brave boy you are. Let's put you in with momma." She handed the kitten to Virgil who had just dropped the third kitten in. John handed him the last kitten and stood up.
"Ok, Grandma that's all of them. Now what?"
"Virgil, please double check. See if any of the kittens crawled off. Now we take them to Marion's vet. Does he have time for us?"
"No, he doesn't. He's mostly a farm animal vet, not small animals. And he's overwhelmed with calls right now. He gave me the number of a friend in Wichita who is expecting us."
Virgil pulled a box out from under the workbench and looked underneath one more time. "No more kittens, Grandma."
"Is there anything else we need to do here?" John looked around at the farm. Some of the trees were still standing, but it didn't seem like home anymore.
"No. I said goodbye a long time ago. There is nothing left for me here." Emily headed straight for the van. She sat in the rear seat and John put the drawer with the cats in it between them.
Post by susanmartha on 10/30/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #128 is a reply to message #127] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:01 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Monday, August 6; 2:30 PM; Wichita Memorial Hospital (9:30 AM 8-7 on TI; 12:30 PM in LA)
Michael Hart wheeled himself down the corridor of the children's section of the hospital. He was recovering swiftly from the injuries he'd suffered, although his left leg was in a cast and sticking straight out in front of him, and he had a bandage on his head. Plus, part of his head had been shaved. But he wasn't thinking of that. He was looking for Peter Valerian's room.
He almost passed it, but the door was open, and when he glanced in, he saw the boy's mother. She was sitting next to the bed, holding her son's hand and talking to him softly, but Peter was just staring at the ceiling, and not responding.
Michael backed up slightly, and turned to go in. As soon as he was close enough to the door frame, he knocked on it. Mrs. Valerian looked up and her face brightened when she saw who was in the doorway. She motioned for him to come in. She released Peter's hand and stood up, moving forward to greet her son's visitor.
"How is he?" Michael said quietly.
"His injuries are healing, but he isn't eating. They've got him on IVs to give him nourishment, but he won't respond to anything. It's like he's given up and wants to... to..." She couldn't go on, and tears streamed down her face.
He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "We can't have that, now, can we? I'd like to talk to him, if that's okay."
She nodded and he moved the wheelchair to the left side of the bed. "Hey there, Peter. I've been hearing things about you that I can't believe are right. They say you won't eat. Now, I know that hospital food isn't the best tasting thing in the world, but it is nutritious, and will help you get better faster. Look at me; I've been eating it, and I'm still here, and getting well faster than the doctors said I would."
Peter still stared at the ceiling, so Michael tried a different tack. "Besides, how do you think it would make the people of International Rescue feel, to know that someone they saved didn't want to get well?"
There was a hint of a reaction, and he went on. "Look at us; we've got a lot in common here. We were both hurt, we were both saved by International Rescue, and we're both in the hospital. Now, I think we could have a little competition of our own here. Whoever gets out of this place first, the other one has to buy him a hamburger, soda and fries. What do you say?"
He waited for a long minute, the Peter turned his head and looked at him. He smiled slightly, and nodded. Michael let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and grinned. He took Peter's hand and shook it. "There. We've just made a gentleman's transaction, and we shook on it. To me, that's as good as a written contract, a promise, and I'm holding you to it. So you start eating and see how fast you can get out of the hospital, okay?"
Peter's smile got bigger and he nodded again, then turned to look at the tray of food lying on the table near his bed, then at his mother.
"Okay, honey. I'll feed you in a minute. I want to speak to Mr. Hart first."
"I gotta go, Peter, before the nurses on my floor hunt me down. I'll see you again, soon. Right?"
Peter grinned and Michael turned his wheelchair carefully around. Mrs. Valerian pushed him out into the hall and began to thank him.
"No need for that," he interrupted. "Peter's a great kid; I thought that when I first saw him. He just needs a little motivation."
"Which you gave him, Mr. Hart."
"Michael, please. Mr. Hart is my father."
She smiled. "Michael. And I'm Carol. Thank you for being his motivator." She bent down and kissed his cheek.
He grinned. "Aw, shucks, ma'am. 'Tweren't nothin'."
She laughed. "Yes it was." Then she grew sober. "I don't know if you heard, but the Thunderbird vehicle that brought us here encountered a tornado on the way back. They came out badly."
"No, I hadn't heard. Is the medical team okay?"
"They said the two nurses had minor injuries, but the doctor was badly hurt. I recently heard that she is expected to recover, though."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope this doesn't prevent them from continuing to go to where they are needed when they are called.
"I very much doubt they would stop. From the articles I've gotten for Peter, there have been some injuries, and they're still going." She glanced past him, and her smile returned. "But I see someone heading this way, and giving you the evil eye. I think you've been found out."
"Mr. Hart!" the nurse exclaimed. "You are not going to get better if you keep gallivanting all over the hospital against doctor's orders. If this continues, we're going to have to sedate you or tie you down. Now, are you going to behave or not?" She reached the couple and took the handles of the wheelchair, turning him around. "Now say goodbye and we're going back to your room."
"Goodbye," he said obediently, with a wink and a grin.
"Goodbye, Michael."
As the nurse pushed him toward the elevators, Carol heard him say, "Now, nurse, we need to negotiate this. If I promise to be good the rest of the time, you need to allow me to come down here and..." The closing of the elevator doors prevented her from hearing the rest of his words.
She smiled and went inside to feed her son.
Post by Hobbeth on 10/30/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #129 is a reply to message #128] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:02 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Monday, August 6, 7:30 PM Kansas (5:30 PM same day, L.A.; Tuesday, August 7, 12:30 PM, Tracy Island)
Virgil collapsed onto the couch. Why am I so tired today? It's not like I did any physical work. I guess seeing the old house destroyed affected me more than I thought. He reached for the phone on the coffee table.
Scott was sitting at his father's desk. He picked up the phone on the first ring. "Virgil. What's up?"
"You sound surprised to hear from me."
"I was hoping it was Dad with a report on Mom. They will probably be moving her tomorrow. How did it go at the farm?"
"The house is gone. There wasn't anything left to salvage in the upper part. The basement was untouched. I found your old aviator teddy in one of the boxes. Should I bring it home?"
"You may as well. I could use all the help I can get to keep my spirits up."
"We did find one good thing. There was a momma cat with four kittens in the barn. She'd been hurt, so we took her and her kittens with us. They're at the vet's now; he wanted to keep them overnight."
"What are you going to do with them tomorrow?"
Virgil took a deep breath. "Grandma wants to bring them home with us."
"She never let us have indoor pets when we were kids!"
"She says she has to take something good from the farm. You argue with her."
"No, I'll leave that to Dad."
"Care to bet who wins?"
"No contest. Dad doesn't stand a chance." The two brothers grinned at each other over the vidphone.
"So, where are you staying? And where are Grandma and John?"
"We're in the Regis. So is Heather Kennedy. We met her in the elevator. Grandma and John are in the dining room with her and one of the families we rescued. Their house was totaled."
"That's a lot to have happen in one day." Scott looked glum.
"Davy doesn't think so. Heather was telling us about him before we ran into the family waiting for a table. He's showing everyone his IR identification bracelet. The one we handed out to keep the wheelchairs and other equipment straight. He's telling everyone he's going to be a Thunderbird when he grows up." Virgil grinned. "We should run it by Dad. He sure understands 'never give up'. Unfortunately, his parents might recognize me, so I'm getting room service."
"What suite?"
"Room 1502. A room with two beds and an adjoining sitting room. They were full: we were lucky to get this. Grandma gets one bed, John and I get to share the other." Virgil yawned. "As badly as he snores I probably won't get much sleep tonight."
"You might want to stay up. Ned Cook has moved his yearly IR retrospective to tonight. He's broadcasting from outside Mercy Hospital. He says he's hoping to get an interview with IR's doctor."
Virgil snorted. "Fat chance."
"He also had an interview scheduled with one of the surgeons who worked on her. But that has been firmly squashed."
"Drew wanted to give an interview?"
"They had two surgeons in there working. Actually, there were three. One of them was trying for a career boost. He's not getting it. I guess the hospital administration came down pretty hard on him. Dad said the head of security filled him in about the interview. Dad was about ready to blow up, but Mom calmed him down. She told him, in front of the security lady, that this is why she wanted to come to Mercy General. She knew Drew would handle any problems that came up."
There was a knock on the door and a call of, "Room service."
"Just a sec!" Virgil replied. "There's dinner. Will we be able to see Mom tomorrow?"
"I hope so. Call Dad when you're ready to leave. See you."
"Bye." Virgil hung the phone up and went to get the door and his dinner.
"Nuts!" Scott said as the call ended. "I forgot to ask Virge if he knew why Heather was at the hotel!"
Post by susanmartha on 11/1/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #130 is a reply to message #129] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:04 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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Monday, August 6, 6 PM, L.A. (7 PM same day, Kansas; 1 PM, Tuesday August 7, Tracy Island)
"There's something on televid that we should watch this evening." Jeff turned on the televid in Dianne's room.
"Oh?" Dianne gave him a puzzled look. She still wore the oxygen cannula, and there were monitors keeping track of her blood oxygen levels. She was still breathing shallowly, to take a deep breath hurt too much. An IV still pumped fluids into her as eating was also difficult. It was also set up for pain relievers and for antibiotics to stave off infection. One leg was propped up on a pillow, uncovered except by the wide bandage that encircled the calf. The hospital gown covered the bruising along her shoulders and abdomen. And she wore a soft cervical collar, a result of the whiplash she had sustained.
"Yes. It seems that Ned Cook is doing his IR retrospective early this year, and has set up his circus tent outside the hospital." Jeff surfed until he found the appropriate station, then settled down in a chair next to her, lowering the bed rail so he could take her hand. The door was locked; anyone who wanted entrance would have to knock at the very least.
She smiled slightly and squeezed his hand gently. "Hm. Circus tent. You're not usually so cynical."
"It's not usually like a circus." He ran a hand over his face, and grimaced as his hand encountered the beard. I cannot wait until I can get rid of this! I will never, ever grow one of these things!
"I don't understand," she said, looking puzzled again.
"You'll see." Jeff lowered the lights with a remote. "I asked Drew to have Maggie to record this for us, just in case the team had to go out. Then they'd be able to see it all."
"Okay," Dianne said softly. She raised the head of the bed a touch more so she could better see the machine. The show's trademark music started, the show began, and her eyes opened wide in amazement. "Oh, my word." Turning to her husband, she said, "Jeff, just look. All those people."
He glanced back at her. "I know, love. I know."
Ned Cook was sitting in a director's chair, under the light shade of his outdoor studio. Behind him, the California sun shone brightly on with a familiar looking building. "This is Ned Cook," he said, "reporting from Mercy General Hospital in Los Angeles, and welcome to International Rescue -- The Year's Amazing Rescues." He gestured to his backdrop. "I'm sure many of you are wondering why I've chosen to do this show here instead of in the studio as I usually do. And why I've chosen to do it now, instead of nearer to the year's end. It's because of the extraordinary events of the past few days. We'll recap those events as we go along, but first, let's look back to the early portion of this year and the scenarios that International Rescue found itself involved in."
"In mid-January, International Rescue was called out to aid a Chinese tourist sub that got caught in the kelp fields off the coast of Japan. Here's Hsin Yu with a report on that rescue."
The picture segued into a pre-recorded portion. A Chinese man, wearing a light jacket and with his dark hair ruffling in the breeze, stood on a pier, next to a long submarine with large portholes studded in the sides. The man's name appeared in the lower right corner with a blue line running from it to the opposite side. When the man's name disappeared, he began to speak.
"The vessel beside me is the Manchuria, one of the tourist submarines that visit the scenic undersea vistas off the coast of China, moving north in international waters to view the myriad creatures of the deep. But on Friday, January 13, 2068, the tourists on the Manchuria got more excitement than they bargained for."
The view switched to a sharp-looking young man in a sea captain's uniform. He began speaking in Mandarin, with an English-speaking voice overlying his original words.
"We were following the coast of China, when a malfunction in our guidance computers caused us to veer off course, to the northeast. We tried to reboot the computers, but that was futile. The next thing we knew, we were in the kelp fields. I put the boat on manual control, but before we could get out of the fields, we were caught fast. First the kelp fouled the aft turbines, then it wrapped around the conning tower. We couldn't go forward, and we couldn't go back. We could not go up, and we began to sink. There were injuries, so we called International Rescue."
The scene changed to a middle-aged couple. The woman twisted her hands nervously in her lap, while the man sat ramrod straight beside her. They, too, spoke in Mandarin, and their words were translated into English. The woman spoke first.
"I remember it was getting dark outside. The kelp was very dense and cut off the sunlight. The sub lurched to one side and I fell down, injuring my ankle. My husband was thrown across the room, and hit his head. It knocked him out for a long time. Everyone was very tense, and the air began to feel hot and stifling. Suddenly, I saw these two young men in wet suits outside the port hole. One of them gave a wave, and we all cheered. They began to cut away the kelp. In the meanwhile, there was another young man who came aboard. He was very cheerful and encouraging. He put my husband on a backboard, and with the crew's help, transferred him to a small submarine."
The man now took up the tale. "I don't remember hitting my head or anything of my rescue. I woke up in the hospital. But my wife had been treated and the doctors and nurses said that I had been well treated while in International Rescue's care."
The scene shifted again, and now a female crew member spoke, her words translated. "I had gone down to the engine room to see what I could do to help with the ventilation system. A grating fell down and gashed my leg. The young man with the submarine took me to the little hospital, where I was treated. He smiled, and spoke to me kindly, though I do not know much English. While I was in the little hospital, one of the men who had been cutting the Manchuria free was brought in. He had a bad gash in his arm. I was very impressed that he would risk himself for us."
The captain came back on. "Once the kelp was cleared, the large green aircraft pulled the Manchuria free with its grabs. The small sub towed us to one of our retrieval vessels, which had sailed out to meet us. The green aircraft, number two, flew the injured to our home port, where they were taken to the hospital." He paused, and sighed. "If it were not for International Rescue, we may have perished before help could arrive. I wish to thank International Rescue for their assistance. They are truly miracle workers."
Hsin Yu returned. "Ten people were injured in the incident, and two others died, one of a heart attack, and one from an electrical surge. The Manchuria is still undergoing repairs and refitting not only to make it seaworthy again, but also to upgrade its systems so this doesn't happen again. Without the help of International Rescue, the death toll would have undoubtedly been higher."
Ned appeared back on the screen. "Thanks, Hsin. More on International Rescue's year in review after this message." Just before the commercial came on, there was a shot of people milling around outside the hospital. The camera zoomed in on one elderly Hispanic lady who had her rosary in her hands, and appeared to be praying. Then the commercial came on.
"How long have they been there?" Dianne asked.
"As soon as the word got out that you and the nurses had arrived," Jeff said. "Most of them are here to wish you well, to thank us for what we do."
Dianne looked down and away, closing her eyes, and biting her lower lip. "I... I don't... I don't know what to say or think. All of a sudden, it feels like a weight, doing what we do."
"It's always been a huge responsibility, love," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "We don't often get to see how the rest of the world sees us. That in itself is a heavy burden."
They sat quietly for a while, then Jeff said, "I need a drink of cold water. Can I get you one, too?"
"Yes, please," Dianne replied, nodding slightly.
He rose, and picked up the pitcher from her bedside table. It was full of ice water; the nurses were very good about keeping it full and fresh. As he poured out two cups of water, his eyes kept straying back to the televid, and the events unfolding there.
Post by Tikatue on 11/1/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #131 is a reply to message #130] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:04 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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Joe finished adjusting the camera onto his shoulder and took a glance around. Spying the tall, auburn haired woman across the room, he smiled. Perfect...
"Rae! Can you give me a hand?" he called out.
She smiled and came over. "Sure, Joe, what's up?"
"Ned wants me to do a few informal interviews. Man on the street kind of stuff. Want to join me?"
"Great! Let's go!"
Together they walked outside and paused. Spying a group of young women standing near the barricades, they headed there first. "Hi there, I'm Rae McCormick, would you mind answering a few questions?"
One, short with bright red hair, giggled. "I'd love to!"
"Great! What's your name?"
"Margy."
"Thanks, Margy." Rae turned to Joe and nodded. "Rae McCormick here, asking the people's opinion." She turned back to the young woman. "Maggie, what are your thoughts on International Rescue?"
Maggie giggled again. "Well, Rae, I think they are just wonderful. They do such good work. And the guys *sighs* just gorgeous. Would like to take them home to meet Mom if you know what I mean..."
One of her friends nodded in agreement. "Not that we've actually seen them... but hey, anybody that has a body like theirs has to be hot, right?"
Joe rolled his eyes. Not exactly what we're looking for, Rae, he thought to himself.
Rae smiled sweetly at the girl. "Thank-you very much. Back to you, Ned."
Post by lillehafrue on 11/1/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #132 is a reply to message #131] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:05 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Ned glanced up at the camera and said, "Thanks, Rae. We'll have more from Rae McCormick later in the broadcast." He glanced up at the teleprompter above the stationary camera. "Friday the thirteenth was certainly unlucky for International Rescue. Not only did they respond to a disaster off the coast of Japan, but they also took on the job of bringing a space cruiser in for what ended up as a safe - if imperfect - landing at Cape Canaveral. Here's Sarah Gerrold to tell us the story."
The scene changed to a dark-haired woman standing on what had to have been a breezy, sunny day in Florida. The gantries that marked Cape Canaveral's launch pads were in the background. "The flight of WSA's space cruiser, Yamato, was normal up until re-entry..."
Jacques, coming home in the morning's early hours from an evening of social obligation, heard the televid and walked into the drawing room to find Desdemona watching avidly. "Why are you up at bloody two ack emma?" he asked, checking his watch.
"I wanted to watch this live," was her reply. "Now hush!"
Jacques glanced at the screen and thought for a moment, then sat down in one of the chairs near his sister. He steepled his fingers, and gave his attention to Sarah's interrupted monologue.
"...The crew of two thought they were finished, until IR's little-known Thunderbird Three arrived on the scene."
The screen changed again, to an official press room in the Cape Canaveral complex. Two astronauts, a mustachioed man and a dark-skinned woman sat next to each other, their chairs slightly turned towards each other. The man spoke. The words, "Astronaut Frank Camp" appeared on the screen below him.
"We were really concerned with the situation as it stood. The odds that a system with so many redundancies built in might fail is pretty astronomical, but it can happen. Unfortunately, it seems the odds were against us on that flight. We were glad that International Rescue could make it in time."
The camera zoomed in on the woman, and the name "Astronaut Haley Roberts" appeared on the screen. "Thunderbird Three was so awesome. We could see its silhouette, and it looked sleek, with two or three nacelles. Where our running lights splashed on it, the rocket was bright red. A long, beautiful vessel from our perspective."
Sarah, who sat facing the two astronauts, asked, "What exactly did Thunderbird Three do?"
Camp replied, "The pilot, who said we could call him 'A', managed to get the nose of his craft under ours for just the right amount of time, and changed our trajectory to a safer vector. We were able to bring the cruiser in at a better angle."
The camera angle switched to Haley again. "They were waiting for us on the ground, too. They sprayed this foam-like substance all over the cruiser, and kept us from burning up while the emergency crews pulled us out."
The scene went back to Sarah, standing outside. "The story doesn't end here, though. In the days that followed, something odd turned up in the area surrounding the cruiser's landing zone."
They cut back to the press room, where the astronauts had been replaced with a man wearing an Air Force uniform. The name "General Michael Seese" was now displayed on the screen.
Sarah asked, "What was it you noticed after International Rescue left?"
General Seese straightened his shoulders a touch. "Well, we noticed a marked difference in the plant growth around the landing site. At first, we didn't know why things were growing so quickly, but one of our civilian adjuncts, Professor Callie Spencer, posited that it could have had something to do with the flame retardant that International Rescue had sprayed on the cruiser. She felt that the mixture of the cruiser's fuel with that foam had created a new, super fertilizer. Turned out that, somehow, IR heard about our problem, and conducted their own tests. Lord only knows where they got the samples! They sent Professor Spencer the results of their work, and sure enough, it was exactly what she thought it was. They even pinpointed which parts of the chemicals were reacting. Don't know how they got the information to her; they must have an ear at every keyhole or something! I have to admire people like that. They must have some top minds working for them."
"Were you able to neutralize the effects of the fertilizer?" Sarah asked.
General Seese smiled. "We didn't need to. The compound broke down on its own and, according to our testing, has been rendered totally harmless to the environment. We have passed some of the information along to the relevant authorities in Washington, but we don't foresee any latent effects." His smile turned wry. "It did keep our groundskeepers hopping, I'll give you that!"
"A super fertilizer?" Jacques said, shaking his head. "Is that what you're watching this for?"
Desdemona rolled her eyes. "Of course not. But there may be hints to other technologies that we could use."
He shook his head again, and tuned back in to Sarah's wrap up. "...Spencer could not be contacted for an interview, but her findings are now on file with the Department of Agriculture and the Environmental Protection Agency."
The camera angle shifted, and Sarah ended her piece with, "It's been long known that IR has a covert intelligence network like none other; they are often aware of situations requiring their aid without an official call. Here we have a fine example, not only of the existence of that network, but also of International Rescue's continuing response to issues outside of mere rescue operations."
As the picture shifted back to Ned, Desdemona remarked, "Hm. We could use that network to our advantage."
"If we could design a scenario that would interest IR," Jacques said. He stood up. "Let me know if you find anything promising. I'm off to bed."
Post by Tikatu on 11/1/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #133 is a reply to message #132] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:07 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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"The next major, recorded event that International Rescue was involved in was an explosion at Saudi oil field refinery. To report on this, we have Ansari al-Majid."
The image of a thin-lipped man with heavy brows appeared on the screen, with his name at the bottom. It disappeared, and he began.
"On February, 19 of this year the oil fields you see behind me were aflame, and a small group of riggers were trapped in a metal and concrete structure deep within them. The oil company worked as quickly as they could to contain the blazes and cap the flaming gushers, but they knew time was against them, and against the trapped riggers. So, the call went out for International Rescue."
The camera changed from the reporter to footage of the smoking aftermath of the disaster. Charred steelwork and smouldering ruins stood on the blackened ground, and lingering smoke turned the air a pale grey.
"In true fashion their operatives arrived with great speed, and immediately set to work. Several of the evacuated riggers stayed to watch the events unfold from a safe distance, including Faisal Madani, who is with me now."
The camera switched again, this time to focus on a wizened-faced man with greying hair.
"Faisal, describe to us what you saw on the day."
The man began to speak animatedly, belaying his appearance. The translation failed to do his enthusiasm justice.
"The size of their cargo carrier... man! I was so surprised when the only things that trundled out were these two... vehicles. That's the only way I could describe them. One had a plow blade on it. Massive thing with a hole in it. The other looked like a more or less standard fire truck, but it sure didn't use water! The fire truck worked on the structures that had caught fire, but that other thing went off into the gushers.
"I thought the guy who was coordinating things was crazy; I really did. He sent the bulldozer thing off into the field without any way to put out the flames; at least, none that I could see at first. Then there was this massive boom! And the first of the gushers was doused! Seems they had some sort of concussion shells that they could shoot off. One by one, they cleared the derricks, and we were able to move in and cap.
"It was amazing watching them work. I've never seen anything like it. They are brave people. But even more than that, the guy -- the co-ordinator -- he must have incredible patience. The head of Disaster Control wouldn't leave him alone. I was too far away to see that much, but I'm sure he was irritated!"
"Thank you, Faisal."
The camera panned back to Ansari.
"Without the bravery of the members of International Rescue, there would surely have been tragedy. But, as a result of their selfless actions, all of the riggers were rescued, with only minor injuries sustained. Back to you, Ned."
***
"Irritated doesn't even half cover it," John said, leaning forward on the couch.
He, Virgil, and Emily were watching Ned's program from the latter's hotel suite. Virgil glanced across at his younger brother and chuckled.
"Even now I can see the veins bulging in your temples," he quipped.
"I was very, very close to giving him one right in the kisser," John said.
"John!" His grandmother admonished.
"Sorry, Grandma, but he really was getting on my nerves. 'Why don't you do this? Why're you doing it that way?' Man, what wouldn't I have given for a security guard right then..."
Virgil shook his head and continued to grin.
"There are very few people who can get you that angry," he said.
"True. Anyway, pipe down, the next one's coming on..."
Post by ArtisticRainey on 11/2/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #134 is a reply to message #133] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:07 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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"Thanks, Ansari," Ned said.
He grinned as he performed as smoothly turned to face a different camera.
"There you have it, folks. Another example of how these amazing people persevere through every obstacle in order to achieve their goals. In our next installment, we see another example of this. Reporter Mikhail Petrov tells us more."
"On the twenty-fifth of February this year," Mikhal began, speaking English with a strong, but unobtrusive Ukranian accent, "one of the coal mines here at Vyshhorod, Ukraine, collapsed as a result of a methane gas leak. The mixture of coal and gas created a large explosion, trapping around 20 miners underground at a depth of 1000 meters. The rest of the 300-strong mining crew were safely evacuated, but it quickly became apparent that there was no hope for the others -- unless, of course, International Rescue could be prevailed upon.
"In true fashion, they arrived swiftly, bringing with them their fantastic equipment. We caught up with several of those involved in the incident earlier today, to get first-hand accounts of this tremendous rescue effort."
The film cut to footage of an interview with a young couple, the woman holding a toddler. Her name was cited as Anastaysiya and his as Ivan Dmytro, and beneath the voice-over translation, the tremor in her voice was evident.
"It was terrible at the time," she said. "My husband, Ivan, was one of those trapped underground. We thought that there was no hope. But when we heard that International Rescue was coming, I knew that my baby's father would be saved."
"The men who rescued us were incredibly calm and collected," Ivan said. "They dug underground to save us in a huge drill-like machine -- when I was on the surface again, I could not believe the design, and how fast it had dug down. The operator, who called himself Vee, went back and forth in it to get us out from underground. The air was getting thinner, and many of us were hurt, but he kept us all calm, promising to be back quickly. And he was true to his word."
The camera changed, this time showing an older man with greying hair, standing with the aid of crutches. His name was given as Oskar Oriana.
"I was among those who were trapped, and also badly injured. My legs were crushed beneath fallen beams. The operative Vee was excellent in keeping my moral up, and I was the first one extricated and taken to the surface. All of the people who came to our aid were truly good. You couldn't do such work and have a bad heart."
The camera returned to the image of Mikhal, who wore a slight smile.
"Again, International Rescue prevailed. Long may they continue their work. Mikhal Petrov, reporting from Vyshhorod, Ukraine."
***
John glanced over the top of his grandmother's head to check out Virgil's reaction. His face was fairly neutral, although there was a faint blush on his cheeks.
"Well, Vee, how does it feel to know you can't have a bad heart?" He asked.
Before Virgil could retort, Grandma pinned her grandsons with a proud look one after the other, before turning her eyes back to the televiewer.
"All of you boys have good hearts," she said firmly. "You come from six generations of perseverance and doing good on your grandfather's side, and just about the same on mine. There isn't a bad bone in any of your bodies, and that's the truth."
"Thanks, Grandma," the two boys said, giving their grandmother simultaneous kisses on her cheeks.
"Now, that's not to say you aren't cookie-stealing up-to-no-gooders sometimes," she said with a grin.
"You're right there," Virgil said. "You're right there."
Post by ArtisticRainey on 11/2/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #135 is a reply to message #134] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:08 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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"Sit down, Alex!" Cherie sat back in her chair and adjusted her glasses.
"I still think that Sarah lady looked familiar," Alex groused as he sat back down on the floor of the Carmichael's family room. Cherie rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"How come I don't remember the oil fire rescue?" he asked, still frowning. He glanced back and reached up as his grandmother came to stand behind him, a cold glass of lemonade in her hand. "Thanks, Grammy."
"You're welcome," Lisa said as she handed a drink to Cherie, too. She glanced around. "Where's Tyler?"
"Dunno," Cherie said. She took a long drink of the lemonade. "Thanks, Grandma."
"You're welcome," Lisa repeated. "I'd better go find Tyler."
She heard Kyrano saying, "I believe that you were celebrating your birthday during the rescue at the oil fields, Alex," as she went off in search of her youngest grandson.
She found him in the guest room he was sharing with Alex, lying on his stomach, reading a book. Lisa smiled, remembering when she found her own daughter doing the same thing in the years after the divorce. Clearing her throat so she wouldn't startle him, she sat down on the edge of the bed. "You might want to come out to the family room. The IR year in review is on tonight."
Tyler shook his head, but didn't look at her. "No thanks."
Lisa frowned. "You usually like this show."
The boy shrugged, not trying to explain himself. Lisa reached over and felt his forehead. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I am a little tired," Tyler said, putting a bookmark in his book and setting it aside. "Maybe I should go to bed early."
Lisa's face creased in a concerned frown as Tyler got up and pulled his pajamas out of his suitcase. He gave her a pointed look. "Can I get dressed?"
"Are you sure you don't want to see the show?" she asked again. "John will probably ask if you watched it."
"I'm sure," Tyler replied, sighing. "I just want to go to bed."
"Okay," Lisa replied, getting up. "I'll tell Alex to be quiet when he comes in."
Tyler nodded, and Lisa kissed him on the forehead. "Goodnight, Ty."
"Goodnight, Grammy."
She left the room, and wondered if she should go back in to press the issue. Instead, she wandered out to the kitchen, where Maggie had almost finished preparing a light supper for the family. "Is everything okay, Lisa?" Maggie asked.
"I don't think so," Lisa replied, sitting at one of the stool's in the kitchen's breakfast bar. "Tyler just went to bed."
"Without supper?" Maggie's frown now mirrored Lisa's. "That's not like him. I mean, he's not been eating a whole lot, but I thought that was due to the time zone change."
"He also doesn't want to see the retrospective, either. And he's usually been very excited to see it before."
Maggie washed her hands and put one on Lisa's shoulder. "Maybe he just needs to see Dianne."
Lisa sighed again. "You're probably right. I can hardly wait for them to make this switch so that the kids and I can see her. Even though Drew's assured me that she's okay and will make a full recovery, I need to see her for myself. And so do the kids."
"You just wait. John's planning on being in L.A. tomorrow, isn't he?"
"Yes. He, Virgil and Emily will be stopping overnight on their way back to the island." Lisa smiled ruefully. "Poor Em is going to be exhausted when they get back home."
"Well, they're to come here for dinner," Maggie said firmly. "Jeff will be able to be himself again and actually get some rest."
"I hope that's all that Tyler needs. To see his mother and father, and to spend a little time with his favorite brother. We don't need a repeat of what happened after the tsunami."
"Grammy?" Alex stuck his head in the door to the kitchen. "Can you come out to the family room? I think the... I think Dad's rescue is next."
"Oh my! I'm coming!"
"Me, too," said Maggie as the two women followed Alex out to the family room.
post by Tikatu on 11/2/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #136 is a reply to message #135] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:10 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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Brandon sat by his father's bedside, looking at his sleeping form. Holding his father's hand, he thought back to the flight from the island.
Flashback
He stared out the window of the plane, seeing nothing, thoughts in turmoil. He was making an emergency flight home to San Diego and, after a few hours flight time, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw John standing beside him.
Hey, mind if I join you?" John asked.
"Be my guest." Brandon turned back to continue looking out the window.
Sitting across from Brandon, John laid back and closed his eyes, trying to relax, his features tense and drawn. Working two rescues and knowing his mom was injured had taken its toll. Opening his eyes, he looked at his friend, noticing the distant look on his face. "Hey, buddy, how are you holding up?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"Okay, I guess," Brandon replied, shaking his head. "I can't believe this is happening." He struggled with his emotions, trying to keep them in check. "Both my parents are in the hospital and there's a strong possibility that Dad may not walk again; all because some damn fool decided to drink and drive!" He pounded the arm of the seat angrily, causing Emily to jump in alarm.
Brandon, calm down," she said. "You're not doing yourself or your family any good when you're angry. They need you to be strong for them." "She's right," John replied. "When I was up at TB5, trying to coordinate the two rescues, it was hard to keep calm. For the sake of the victims, though, I had to."
Brandon didn't say anything. Instead, the others watched as he closed his eyes, taking slow deep breaths. Finally his body relaxed and he opened his eyes.
"What was that all about?" John asked, noticing the change in Brandon's demeanor.
"I remembered a relaxation exercise I learned in tai-chi a couple of years ago," Brandon replied with a smile. "It's come in handy a lot. Maybe I can teach it to you when I get back.
Arriving in Los Angeles, Brandon turned to John and Virgil, shaking their hands. "Thanks for everything, you guys. Take care and I wish Dianne a full recovery."
"We'll pass it along," Virgil replied.
"Don't you worry about us," Emily said. "You just focus on helping your family."
"We'll keep you in our prayers," John added.
Standing up, Brandon worked the kinks out of his shoulders. He'd been at the hospital since 10:30in the morning, and, looking at the time, he realized it was almost 4:00. Knowing there was nothing more he could do, he got ready to leave. Brushing his hand against his father's cheek he said softly, "I'll be back later, I promise."
Some time later
He had arrived home tired and hungry. Going into the kitchen he looked for something to eat, ending up with a double decker sandwich and a cold beer.
Walking into the living room, he sat down on the couch and reached for the remote. "I wonder if there's anything good on," he said, surfing through the channels and commenting on what he saw. Something caught his attention and he stopped, listening as Ned Cook introduced the next segment of the retrospective. "This should be interesting," he remarked, taking a sip of his beer.
Post by MagicMaster8 on 11/7/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #137 is a reply to message #136] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:11 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Ned smiled at the camera. "As you can see, International Rescue excels in large scale disaster scenarios. But that is not their only claim to fame. They have also been called upon to help in much smaller mishaps. Take February of this year for example. A freak Nor'easter blew up in northern New England, catching billionaire ex-astronaut, Jeff Tracy, and his pilot off guard."
"Their helijet went down near Black Mountain, in Jackson, New Hampshire. The storm was too severe for the local rescue personnel, and pilot Elise Collins managed to get a hold of IR. They flew through the blizzard, somehow managing to get both Ms. Collins and Mr. Tracy to Mount Sinai Hospital in New York."
"I took a news crew to the hospital and attempted to get a statement from Dianne Tracy." Ned shrugged a bit. "I was told, most emphatically, to 'Mind my own business.' While Tracy Industries did a marvelous job of keeping us updated on Mr. Tracy's progress, I tried to get to speak to the man himself. Unfortunately, this was impossible. As was speaking to Ms. Collins."
Ned smiled again. "I now take you to Jackson, New Hampshire with reporter, Tamara Poirier."
"Thank-you, Ned." Tamara, a short blonde woman, gestured behind her. "Here behind me, you see the location where billionaire Jefferson Tracy's helijet went down this past February." The camera panned outwards to show a small clearing, surrounded by red maples and white birch. The ground was covered in tall grass, but there were a few obvious bald spots on the forest floor.
"Nor'easters are not a rare occurrence here in New Hampshire. It's a miracle that Ms. Collins was able to get the helijet down as well as she did. There's no reason why either she or Mr. Tracy should even be alive. The Mount Washington Observatory told us that winds that night were over 80 mph, and wind-chill temperatures were well below zero. Survival rates are less than 10 percent in those conditions."
The camera panned around the small clearing, focusing on the broken tree limbs, now covered with moss and tiny flowers. "It's hard to believe this was the site of a near fatal crash. It's amazing how nature will reassert herself. Of course, having Tracy Industries here as soon as the blizzard was over to help with clean up didn't hurt either."
The camera focused on Tamara again. "It has since been confirmed that Mr. Tracy was here in NH buying a piece of property. We have been unable to gain permission to film the house, but according to public record, he bought an A-Frame ski lodge here in town."
"As you can see by my location, local authorities would have had a tough time getting here. Without International Rescue, Ms. Collins and Mr. Tracy may not have survived. In fact, I'm sure of it. This is Tamara Poirier from WJKS, Jackson, New Hampshire."
"Thanks, Tam." Ned turned back to the camera. "As I've said before, I tried repeatedly to talk to Mr. Tracy himself, but was unable to get an interview. He did however, issue this brief statement: 'Although I remember nothing of my rescue by International Rescue, I am very grateful for their sterling efforts on behalf of me and my pilot'."
"I suppose the best we could say is that International Rescue did it again. And if he could reach them, I'm sure Jeff Tracy would give them a big 'thank-you'."
***
"...And if he could reach them, I'm sure Jeff Tracy would give them a big 'thank-you'."
Heather looked up from the book she had picked up at the hotel gift shop, and shook her head at the TV. "What an idiot. The man almost died! And Ned Cook's turning it into a media circus!" She turned off the television in disgust then got up and paced the room. She came to a stop near the window and stared out, not really seeing anything.
Elise Collins...I wonder if that's who I'm replacing? Or does Mr. Tracy have something else in mind for me altogether? I know the job is dangerous, how could it not be! But this wasn't even a rescue, just a freak act of nature. She shuddered, thinking of her own close call. I guess then all I can do is just do what I do best. Fly, and take care of those who need taking care of.
She stood there a moment longer, then sighed and went back to her reading.
Post by Lillehafrue on 11/8/2006 6:48 PM
[Updated on: Mon, 20 April 2015 00:47] by Moderator Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #138 is a reply to message #137] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:12 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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"We're standing here now with a group of people opposed to International Rescue." Rae turned to speak to the woman standing next to her. "Would you mind telling us why you think IR is the proverbial 'bad guys'?"
One young woman, somewhere in her early twenties, stepped forward. She was dressed in skin-tight leather, with bright pink spiky hair and carrying a "Share the Tech!" sign. "International Rescue's 'secret' technology belongs to the world. If they're so perfect and noble, why not share it then?" She yelled out, causing the group behind her to shout in approval.
"How do you know they're not already doing just that?"
The woman rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. If they were sharing it, why does the organization even still exist?"
"Well, some would say that would cause friction between the world governments," Rae said easily. "It could start a war of sorts over who had control over it."
"And how do we know one of them doesn't control them already?! If they're so high and mighty, why all the cloak and dagger?" the woman protested. There was a general cheer of consensus from the group behind her.
A blond man wearing a faded punk concert t-shirt, pushed himself forward. "And what of the stories?! The women who say their rescuers demanded 'payment'?"
Rae raised an eyebrow. "Just what are you implying? That the members of International Rescue are forcing people do to things against their will?"
The man nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying! There's witnesses who's seen it happen!"
Rae's tone grew cold. "I'd like to speak to some of these 'witnesses'."
The two young people shared a glance. "I'll...I'll see what I can do..." the man stammered and grabbing his partner's arm, dragged her off into the crowd.
Rae smiled into the lens. "Back to you, Ned."
Post by lillehafrue on 11/11/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #139 is a reply to message #138] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:14 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
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"Our next story takes us to the frigid cold waters of the North Sea," Ned Cook said, his voice full of drama, as his salute to International Rescue continued. "It was in the midst of a ferocious storm that a crew of twelve local trawler fishermen found themselves in dire danger. One of our reporters on the scene at the time, Sara Troughbridge, picks up the story."
The camera shot changed to show a lovely young dark haired woman, seated in a studio with a backdrop picture of the North Sea and a gas rig behind her. "Ned, the last thing the crew of the Saucy Lady expected at the end of their fishing trip, was to be rescued by International Rescue. It was Monday, March 5th and the trawler and its tired crew were returning home after days away at sea. Life is hard for these men, but it became even harder when the fishing nets they were dragging became entangled with an unexploded World War Two mine. The mine's chains rendered the propeller useless and the boat was drifting perilously. Despite efforts from the crew, they were unable to free the mine themselves and had no choice but to send out a 'Mayday.' Captain James Bowers of the Saucy Lady recalls the events as they unfolded aboard his ship."
The angle of the camera changed as Sara turned towards the backdrop which now became an enlarged screen. The pre-recorded segment began to play. Captain Bowers, comfortable in his home being interviewed, began talking.
"In all my years as a sea captain I've never seen a storm hit so fast as that one did. Once we realized we were dragging a mine, it was no use. We became a dead duck. Aye, m' lads gave it their all tryin' to free the mine, but the sea was against us that day. We hadna choice but to huddle below decks and get tossed around."
The camera shot changed to a close up of Sara as she continued. "The World Navy naval base at Lossiemouth, Scotland picked up the distress call and launched the Excelsior, but by the time the rescue boat reached the trawler the situation had become worse. The Saucy Lady had drifted too close to one of the gas rigs, and if that wasn't bad enough, seven more mines were discovered between the two ships. Unable to assist the stricken trawler, the World Navy sent out a call to International Rescue. Meanwhile, as the brave trawler fisherman huddled below decks fearing impending doom, the 1st Mate, Ian Drummond became very concerned with the dangers of what's known as 'icing-up'."
She briefly explained to the viewers what this was and then a pre-recorded segment of Ian Drummond played. "Aye, the real danger of icing-up is that once it happens, the ship is lost. Those Dunlap pads weren't working and as I turned to return below to tell the Cap'n, I saw the rig and knew we were doomed. The worst feeling in the world came over me because I was th' one who had to go and tell the Captain that we dinna stand a chance." Ian paused and then continued, "But God love th' man, Captain Bowers swore t' us all we were not gonna die that day! Some of crew were injured and I remember Tommy was in a real bad way. When we slammed up against the rig, I though t' myself, 'We're done; it's over,' but we managed to remain on the surface and International Rescue somehow got their people on board. Ya ken imagine the shock when I saw two women!"
Ian chuckled at the memory. "They were part of the medical team and dinna waste no time gettin' t' work! They got Tommy up and loaded onto a stretcher and then a cage whisked him away. Amazing, absolutely amazing, those ladies were."
The screen once again returned to Sara in the studio who continued. "Suffering from severe injuries, Tommy Brennan, one of the youngest fisherman on board, was lifted to safety in record time, but his story doesn't end there. I asked Tommy what he remembers most about his rescue."
Tommy, his wife, Mary and their baby daughter, Charlotte, now appeared on the screen. "I was so afraid I was going to die that all I could think of was my wife and baby. I panicked and got myself smashed up bad. Jock, our medic of sorts, patched me up as best as he could, but I kinna remember a time of such pain as I was getting then. When those nurses from International Rescue appeared, I thought I was seeing angels from heaven. The doctor was so gentle; I can still see her soft smile and feel her soothing hands. They gave me a sedative and I was groggy but asked her if I was going t' die, and I'll never forget her telling me I wasn't and that everything was gonna be okay. I had to have emergency surgery then and there to save me and I will always owe them my life for that. They brought me back to m' wife and daughter."
He hugged his daughter and squeezed his wife's hand as she smiled softly at him.
"As you can see," said Sara, "the crew were well on their way to being safely rescued, but our story doesn't end there. We return now to the rest of our interview with Captain Bowers, who was about to encounter a personal close call."
"I remember thinking about these International Rescue folks, and wondering 'how do they do this kinda stuff all the time?' They freed that mine and saved the crew. Losing m' ship hurt, but those men are my family and they were all rescued safely. In all the chaos, I tried to thank one of the frogmen who'd helped us. The guy was a winner! He risked his life t' save us and we were total strangers. As I reached over to shake his hand, a rogue of a wave struck and knocked me clear overboard! I knew it was then that I was going to die. The waters are so cold that a man will perish within minutes. All I can remember from then on was freezing cold water and tugging and pulling and constant re-assurance from the International Rescue fella. He never quit on me. We finally managed to get aboard their undersea vessel and then I was transferred to the Excelsior and taken to hospital in Peterhead. I am completely healed from the effects of hypothermia and frostbite, and will never forget the brave men and women of International Rescue and what they do. God bless them."
The segment faded and the story closed with a snip of the newscast on the day of the rescue, "... the rescue has been successful. The Captain, who was washed overboard along with a member of the team, has been found and is being taken to the Excelsior. He will be helijetted to the naval base and transferred by ambulance to the hospital in Peterhead. All of the rescue team members are safe and accounted for. Once again, we owe our heartfelt thanks to International Rescue."
The screen returned to Ned Cook, who added, "I couldn't have said it better myself. Thank you, Sara, for bringing us that story."
Back at his parents' house, Brandon sat watching the TV. Shannon lay sleeping on the living room sofa. Exhaustion had caught up with her while they watched the Ned Cook special together. The North Sea Rescue segment brought back memories and Brandon smiled as he watched the Captain Bowers interview. The warm fuzzies he felt faded quickly as his thoughts returned to his parents.
"All those rescues, and yet I still wasn't able to rescue you both." He sighed and settled back with his guilt.
Post by FrankieTB2 on 11/14/2006
[Updated on: Mon, 20 April 2015 00:49] by Moderator Report message to a moderator |
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #140 is a reply to message #139] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:15 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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On Tracy Island, the girls were gathered in Elise's apartment to watch the retrospective. After the commercial break, Ned Cook reappeared to continue.
"In March, International Rescue was called to help with an accident in the Ural Mountains, when an avalanche trapped a bus-load of children and a number of drivers in other vehicles. We are now going over to our reporter in Russia, Mikhail Petrov."
The picture changed to show a dark-haired older man.
"Hello! This is Mikhail Petrov reporting from Ust'-Uls. With me today in the studio are a group of people who were all involved in the accident. But before I continue, let me give you some background information. A truck and a car collided, causing other vehicles to crash. The resulting explosion triggered an avalanche which almost completely covered the vehicles."
He turned to an older man. "Vladimir, I believe you were driving a bus from an orphanage."
"Yes, I was." The voice over began to translate, and Vladimir's name appeared at the bottom of the screen. "I was driving the children from Vele Orphanage to Ust'-Uls. The traffic was light at first, as it was early in the morning. However, as we approached Ust-Garewaya, a larger town, the traffic became much heavier. Just as I was approaching the bridge across the ravine, a very impatient driver three cars behind the bus, decided to overtake us all. However, at that moment, a large truck approached us from the opposite direction. The impatient driver had nowhere to go, and despite frantic braking and swerving, the two collided."
A woman interrupted his story. "Foolish driver! Still, he got his just desserts."
"I suppose the driver didn't survive," Callie murmured.
"I'm not sure, but it would have been a miracle if he did," Tin-Tin replied.
"No, he didn't," Nikki replied sadly, shaking her head slowly as she remembered the flaming wreckage.
Vladimir glared at the woman, and continued. "Trying to avoid the two vehicles, I drove in the other lane. The driver of a truck had the same idea, but unfortunately skidded into the back of my bus, forcing it to end up tilted precariously over the edge of the ravine."
Mikhail thanked Vladimir and then turned to a younger man with light brown hair. The name "Ilya" appeared where "Vladimir" had been. "You were riding the bus to Ust'-Uls for a job interview, weren't you, Ilya?"
Kat coloured slightly as she watched Ilya. "Isn't that your admirer?" Nikki said, smiling at her friend.
"Yes. That is true." He spoke in halting English. "I called International Rescue, and very soon they found us. Some members came to help us. One small, slim young woman was able to climb on board. The children thought she was like angel, and I agreed. She looked at our injuries, and told other rescuers. The younger children began to panic, and she sang to them. She sang many nursery rhymes, until International Rescue could get us off.
He then turned to Mikhail and spoke in quick Russian. The voice over translated. "If you are watching, you were wonderful. If you ever leave International Rescue, please come to Vele."
Kat blushed as her friends giggled.
"Obviously an ardent admirer," Elise said, grinning at her friend
"Well, he's not bad looking," Callie commented.
Mikhail thanked Ilya, and turned to a young woman, whose facial injuries were now fading. Her name appeared at the bottom of the televid screen.
"My father and I were on our way to visit friends when we were involved in this accident. I had been very badly cut on my face by flying glass, and couldn't feel my legs. My father was suffering from whiplash. A young man and woman stayed with us, comforting us, until we could be rescued from the car. We were taken to their mobile hospital and we received care and attention of the highest standard."
Mikhail began talking to a young man with dark hair and wearing glasses.
"I understand you lost a relative in the accident." Across the screen flashed the young man's name, Tom.
"Yes, I did", he replied in a quiet, rather sad voice. "My fiancée, Belinda, died in the accident. She was pregnant, and had been visiting her father, who had recently remarried. She had just had a promotion, and would have taken up her new appointment after the baby had been born. We were very excited both at the forthcoming birth and also a new house that we were going to buy. She was on her way to the airport to return home.
"I understand from the British Embassy that despite all their efforts, the personnel of International Rescue could not save her, only my daughter. It would appear that one member in particular stayed with her in the car until she could be rescued, and went with her to International Rescue's mobile hospital. According to my source from the Embassy, that person had been most comforting to Belinda, and for that I send my heartfelt thanks. Someone had written Chris on my daughter's nametag. I don't know whether that person was male or female, but in his or her honour, I have christened my daughter Christina."
Nikki smiled at the others. "I'm glad Tom named her that."
"Mmm, I wonder what Christopher is doing now," Kat remarked.
Tin-Tin gave a brief smile. "Oh, I expect he is doing well for himself."
"Well, I hope he's watching this programme," Elise remarked.
Finally Mikhail turned to the other female in the group and once more the voice over could be heard. Her name, Galina, appeared in bold, white letters near the bottom of the screen. "On behalf of those standing here and the others who were rescued but couldn't get here, I'd like to say thank you, International Rescue. I would also like to say something here to the young woman who we know only as Kay. If you are watching, I'd like you know that arrangements are being made for Yuri to be adopted. A couple have approached the orphanage and have fallen in love with him."
Kat smiled at that. "He was so adorable. I'd love to have been able to adopt him."
The girls all smiled at her remark.
"He was cute," Nikki said. "Those big brown eyes would melt the coldest heart."
Elise was silent, thinking of the orphans.
The scene changed back to the Los Angeles venue, and Ned smiled as he said, "That's all from Russia. Thank you, Mikhail, and those who were in our studio. We'll continue with our retrospective after the commercial break."
--Ural Mountains rescue by TawnyAngel22 (with help from the Mod Squad) on 11/18/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #141 is a reply to message #140] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:17 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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As Elise, Kat, Nikki, Callie and Tin-Tin continued to watch Ned Cook's coverage on International Rescue, Nikki's expression changed to an uncomfortable look and she shifted in her seat.
Elise caught on to the change in demeanor. "What's up Nikki?"
"Nothing," came the reply from Nikki.
Tin-Tin looked at Nikki when she heard Elise's question. "The look on your face tells a different story."
"It's nothing big. It all just feels weird. People we don't know commenting on what we do. I guess I'm not used to it yet."
"In your previous job, didn't you ever have major emergencies or subjects that ended up being televised on the news?" Callie asked. "The media, if they can, usually report on what's happened from the hospital site."
"Yeah, but that was different. This one seems more personal. People who were rescued talk about their experiences with us, where as before when I worked in the hospital, the media looked more at how the accident occurred and the seriousness of the injuries. Rarely did they mention what we did to save the victim," Nikki explained.
Kat nodded. "I can understand that. It does feel a bit strange. Being in the limelight is new to some of us." She sighed. "I wonder how long it'll take to get used to it."
"It will become easier trust me." Tin-Tin smiled reassuringly. "And if it doesn't, at least you can talk to anyone of us about it."
"I wonder if the guys felt like this the first time Ned Cook praised them?" Kat asked.
"I thought they would've been used to it seeing how they were known in their own fields before International Rescue came about," Callie replied.
The women grew silent and continued to watch the programme. The silence was soon broken when the next rescue segment was announced.
"Oh no. Not the earthquake," Nikki complained.
The rest of the women laughed at the comment, knowing the reason behind it.
Post by Nikki-browneyes1 on 11/18/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #142 is a reply to message #141] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:18 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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Gordon was with Dom, in his apartment. He'd gone over to help him with Joshua and to watch the retrospective. The little boy seemed to sense that his father wasn't as able to take care of -- and play with -- him as he usually was. He'd squealed with glee to see Gordon, whom he considered to be another playmate.
He was sitting on the floor at Gordon's feet, playing with some of his toys as they watched. During the commercials, Gordon would lean over and play with him, usually making Joshua chortle with delight, while Dom observed their antics with amusement.
Although immersed in the game, the redhead's attention was caught by the next segment.
"On the afternoon of the twenty-fourth of March, an earthquake hit Argentina," Ned said, as the show continued. "The epicenter was located five miles south of the city of Mendoza, much of which was seriously damaged -- so much so, that the local rescue organizations were swamped. The mayor of that city called International Rescue to help. And, as usual, they responded. Here is Reuters reporter, Maritza Rosales, in Mendoza."
At first there was a brief video of the city after the earthquake. A female voice said, "In this footage, taken the morning after the earthquake hit, you can see that there was great damage." The picture switched to a young woman with dark wavy hair. Behind her were buildings under construction. As she spoke, the same female voice translated her words. "As you can see behind me, the city is in the middle of a rebuilding process. All of the damaged or destroyed buildings were removed, and are being replaced with ones that will be better able to withstand another earthquake."
She walked to the viewer's right as she finished, and an older, distinguished looking man came into view. Behind him were a few other people. Maritza stopped beside him and continued. "Here with me is the Alcalde -- the mayor of Mendoza. Alcalde," she asked as she turned to face the man, "will you tell the viewers how you felt when you saw International Rescue's vehicles arrive?"
The mayor - identified as Mayor Juan Arroyo - spoke and a male voice translated. "Maritza, I fell to my knees and thanked God for them. The damage and destruction was so widespread throughout the city, I was totally overwhelmed. Fires were raging, people were screaming for help, and our own rescue people couldn't be in all the places they were needed.
"International Rescue worked tirelessly to find victims, so they could be treated for their injuries. Without them, the death toll would have risen significantly. These people behind me are just a few of the ones rescued by that fine organization."
The two separated and gestured for the others to come forward. "These people do not speak English, but wanted to express their thanks for their rescue." As she questioned the first person in Spanish, there was both a voice over, translating the words to English, and closed captioning as well. "Can you tell the viewers what happened"? she said to a man in his mid-twenties, who was with a pregnant woman his age, holding a child about four. At the bottom of the screen, they were identified as David and Angelina Medina.
"I was working not far from here. My wife," he answered, indicating the woman beside him, "was just returning to our apartment from the park a few blocks away. She and my son, Pablo, were both knocked to the ground. I wanted to go to them, but I couldn't get out of the building I was in for a long time. She told me later that she and Pablo had become separated by debris, but she found him by following his cries. He was so afraid, it was difficult to comfort him. And she was also afraid for the baby to come.
"But when the first vehicle from International Rescue showed up, Pablo's eyes got big, and he stopped crying." David smiled. "When the second one arrived -- the big green one -- his eyes nearly popped out of his head, Angelina told me. Then the green vehicle landed and raised up, leaving part of itself on the ground. Out of it came other vehicles and people to help get victims out of the damaged buildings. By this time, I had arrived, and found my family."
An older man and his wife, who were identified as Jose and Maria Paloma, took up the story. "We were trapped in our apartment," Maria said, as the translation continued. "My husband and I are both frail, and we can't go up and down the stairs like we used to. The people from that wonderful International Rescue helped both of us out and were so very nice, and patient with us."
Jose added, "They would lift us if there was an obstruction we couldn't possibly get over, and support us as we walked. I am ninety three and my wife is ninety, so it was slow going, but not once did they try to make us hurry."
"They made sure everyone in the area where they were working was out of danger," Mayor Arroyo continued. He suddenly smiled. "Whether they wanted to be or not."
A look of amusement showed in Maritza's face as she said, "You mean the man who was hit by one of IR's people?"
"Yes, Maritza. The man wanted to sue, but when we investigated, we found out that he had become violent when they tried to get him to leave his apartment, which was in grave danger of collapsing. It was a last resort act by the person who knocked him out with a right cross, as I understand it. And I also have heard that it was a woman who did it."
He chuckled and turned to look directly into the camera. "If the woman is watching, I salute you. It is better to have a bruised jaw for a few days than to be buried alive under a pile of stone. Doing whatever it takes to save lives is commendable."
They heard a commotion off camera. They turned to see a young man rushing toward them, followed by another man and two people in uniform. They reached him and stopped him when he was just a few feet away from the others. The mayor was heard to quietly say something to the reporter, and the translator, in an amused voice, repeated it: "Speak of the. . ."
The man began shouting something in Spanish, very angrily, which wasn't translated. Maritza and the Mayor listened to him for about ten seconds, before he was dragged away. The man with him who wasn't in uniform was arguing with him loudly as they moved off.
Maritza turned back to the camera. "That, obviously, was the man who had been knocked out. Most of what he said shouldn't be translated; it would probably be censored. But his friend who stopped him told him, as they left, that he should be glad the woman did what she did, as the building he was in collapsed less than thirty minutes later."
"He was the last one to be taken out of that building, or so I was informed," the mayor added. "Why he is still acting this way, I cannot say. I believe we will have to investigate further." He turned and looked directly into the camera. "I think that I speak for the people of Mendoza when I say 'Long Live International Rescue'! May they be around for as long as they are needed."
"Thank you, mayor. I agree with that sentiment, and believe that most of the people in the world do, too." She shook hands with him and turned once again to the camera. "There you have it, Ned. Back to you."
Gordon looked over at Dom, as the scene changed on the television. "Too bad you weren't there. You should have seen it. Nikki's got a right cross that could fell a bull rhino."
Dom eyed his friend quizzically. "I think that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I get what you mean. I'd love to have seen it, myself."
"Maybe she should start a boxing class here."
Dom laughed. "Let me know when you're gonna ask her to. I wanna be there to see her reaction. She might just deck you!"
Post by Hobbeth on 11/18/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #143 is a reply to message #142] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:19 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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"Thank-you, Maritza. I guess even International Rescue members have their boiling points." Ned smiled disarmingly into the camera. "Now back to Rae and Joe on the street. Rae..."
Rae nodded. "I'm standing here with Joe, Blanche and Tommy Carter. Two years ago, the Carter family was on a visit to the newly completed Thompson Tower just as the building was destroyed in an accident. I'm sure you all remember the circumstances surrounding that tragedy." She turned to Joe. "Sir, do you mind telling me what you remember about that day?"
The dark haired man smiled. "Sure. We had just gotten to the Tower when Tommy decided to play hide and seek while Blanche and I were trying to find him, the fire alarms went off. Before we could react, the fire doors slammed shut and we were locked in."
Blanche stepped forward. "I didn't think we were going to get out of there. No one knew where we were!"
"Easy, honey." Joe placed his arm around his wife's shoulders. "We tried to open the doors, but it was no use. We were trapped. We later found out that they could see us on the security cameras. International Rescue was called in, but before they could get there, the Tower collapsed."
Rae's eyes widened. "While you were still inside?"
Joe nodded. "Good thing for us, we were down in the tunnels."
"Then what happened?"
"It gets hazy after that. The heat and smoke were building up, the ceiling and walls were falling apart. Tommy here fell unconscious; that's when I thought it was over." Joe looked down at his son. "Then Blanche fainted." Joe shook his head. "I really thought we were goners..." His voice trailed off at the memory.
"You had no way to contact the outside?" Rae asked.
Joe shook his head again. "None. We were completely cut off. But suddenly, there was a strange sound. Then doors blew apart and there they were."
"International Rescue?"
"Yes," Joe nodded. "Two of their...operatives, I guess is the word. They got the three of us out and onto some kind of hover-craft. We were taken to this giant drilling machine and got out of the building just as it came down for good. He, the International Rescue man, gave Blanche and Tommy oxygen which revived them, then left us in the hands of the paramedics when we got to the outside." He pulled his family close. "Without them...I would have lost everything," Joe said hoarsely.
"I only wish I could have met them!" Tommy said wistfully.
Rae smiled down at the boy, then looked back up at his parents. "So, why are you here today?"
Blanche nodded towards the hospital. "When we heard about the accident on the news, we just had to come. They saved our lives. Showing our support is the least we could do," she said, with an angry glare towards the protesters.
Rae smiled and turned back to the camera. "There you have it folks. Another day saved, thanks to International Rescue. Ned, back to you..."
Post by lillehafrue on 11/19/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #144 is a reply to message #143] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:20 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Lady Penelope and Parker settled into their hotel room, both worried for the safety and welfare of Dianne.
"Parker, I need to get my mind off the present situation," she said with a sigh. "Please turn on the television."
"Yes, milady." Without hesitation, he did so and started changing channels.
When one channel was showing the Ned Cook retrospective, it got her attention. "Parker, wait, go back two channels."
It returned to NTBS, and they both watched the retrospective special. "I hope Mr. Cook didn't get as much information as he wanted from us."
Ned continued his recap special from the special outdoor studio which was stilted about 18 inches off the ground, and electrical fence barriers holding off the swarm of screaming people, all of them wanting to be on camera to either support or protest International Rescue. "As we moved into the month of April, International Rescue got called out...way out. The Multinational Cancer Research Center is a privately-owned space station designed to treat cancer patients. It was still under construction when a terrible accident occurred. Let's go to our colleague Susan Kucan in San Francisco, California, for more details."
Another pre-recorded segment started with Susan standing outside a research facility. "I'm standing here on the campus of the University of California, San Francisco, one of two universities funding the construction of the Multinational Cancer Research Center. The exterior of the M.C.R.C. was already completed, with parts of the interior done as well. However, an unfortunate accident with one of the empty oxygen tanks created a potentially life-threatening situation for everyone on board. Via our space satellite system, we were able to talk with three of the station's key people."
First to appear was Chief Engineer Don Bailey. "Three men were replacing the tanks at the time of the incident. The second empty tank struck the bulkhead, causing the connectors to loosen. When they tried to test the connectors, the spark caused a small explosion, followed by a bigger explosion. Two of the men, Ken Jackson and Nick O'Reilly, were killed as a result, but somehow Paul Conners survived. We needed to get him back to Earth for treatment and fast."
The picture cut to Assistant Chief Engineer Corazon Sanchez. "We knew Paul needed help, but no organization was available--or in some cases willing--to help us. They needed a week; we had just 12 hours before the radiation level would reach dangerous proportions. Our only hope was International Rescue. They responded by sending their space rocket to us in less than three hours. That gave us hope that Paul would somehow live through this ordeal."
Parker shook his head. "H'I can't believe 'ow selfish some organizations can be, 'specially when someone's life is in danger."
"You're right, Parker. I read information about the Research Center. Many organizations did not believe in it because it was truly groundbreaking research, treating cancer patients in space."
Mick Haggerty, construction supervisor of the M.C.R.C., was the last to appear. "One of the IR people got Paul back to Earth for emergency treatment while the other two helped my crew and me with installing the temporary replacement panels. The young lady did a great job in coordinating the operation while the guy with us had no trouble helping us put the panels in. Let's face it; if it weren't for those International Rescue people, there would've been a lot more fatalities than just the two."
"From the reports," said Penny, "Callie did very well on her first IR mission where she became directly involved."
The scene was soon back on Susan again. "The survivor, Paul Conners, was unavailable for this interview, but he did issue this statement, and I quote, 'I want to thank the people of International Rescue for saving my life along with the others aboard the M.C.R.C. space station. My wife and my six-year-old son will always be grateful to the organization.'"
Susan added, "An additional statement was issued by the M.C.R.C.'s Board of Directors: 'We would like to praise International Rescue for their tireless efforts in protecting the people of the medical station.' There you have it, friends. International Rescue once again saved several lives and prevented an even bigger disaster from occurring in space.
"As for the M.C.R.C. itself, interior construction was set back about two months. There is good news to report, though. The permanent replacement panels are now in place, and extra safety measures are now being taken to make certain this doesn't happen again, according to Chief Engineer Bailey. Construction of the station should be completed and ready for patients by June 2069. For NTBS, this is Susan Kucan from San Francisco. Ned, back to you."
Parker smiled. "I 'ope Miss Callie's watching this. She should be proud of 'erself for 'er first successful job."
Penny said, "I think Callie is proud of her efforts, but I just hope she's doing all right following her encounter with the Hood last month. That must've been very frightening for her. Perhaps we should stop on the island for a visit sometime next week."
Post by TracyFan4Ever on 11/19/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #145 is a reply to message #144] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:21 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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"Behind me is Number Ten Downing Street," Giles Baxter, reporter for BBC News, began, "home of Prime Minister Baker and her family. Earlier this year, however, a terrifying ordeal could have led to this house being bereft of its occupants, and the country in mourning for its leader, if not for the valiant deeds of International Rescue.
"Earlier today Number Ten issued the following statement in response to our inquiries over the situation..."
As Giles spoke, the words appeared as writing on the screen.
On Monday April 19th of this year, Prime Minister Baker, her husband Gerard, their sons, Alexander and Toby, and their chauffeur, Thomas Deveraux, were caught up in events that would have led to tragedy, if not for the brave actions of International Rescue. A freak accident caused by the inclement weather, led to a cruise ship crashing into London Bridge, whilst the Prime Minister's limousine was crossing. It was only as a result of the actions of International Rescue that there were no fatalities, and additionally, that the cruise ship involved could be salvaged.
Prime Minister Baker would like to give her deepest thanks to the crew that worked to save them, and has no doubt that without their bravery, lives would have been lost.
Thank you.
"It was a harrowing day, and the nation held its breath as International Rescue carried out its fantastic rescue." The camera zoomed out and panned slightly to the left as Giles continued. "With me now are Fiona Brotherton, my fellow BBC reporter who was on the scene at the time, and PCs Brian Meehan and Stephanie Atkins, who were also there. Fiona, describe to us the feeling from on-site that day."
"The reaction of the general public on the day was one of abject horror," Fiona said. "All eyes were glued to the limousine teetering on the precipice of the bridge, until International Rescue arrived on the scene, when some people began to cheer them. Thankfully there was no mass-panic. The people were more in awe of the great Thunderbird machines, and in desperate hope that the Prime Minister and her family would be saved."
"Fiona, you managed to speak to one of the IR members, a feat never before achieved by the media. What did he say to you?"
"Well, Giles, I can't say I got much out of him. In true International Rescue style he was largely tight-lipped."
"Thanks, Fiona." Giles moved his microphone towards the police officers. "PC Meehan, as we've heard the crowd were mostly well-behaved. What were the roles of the police force?"
"Well," Brian said, "we were there obviously as the immediate response to the emergency situation. It quickly became apparent that there was little we could, nor was there anything the RAF could do, so we then ensured the peace was kept until International Rescue arrived, and whilst they carried out their work."
"PC Atkins, what was your experience of the day?"
"Well, me, like my colleagues, were on 'and to provide extra s'curity for the rescuers, makin' sure no one took pictures or the like. It were a bit 'arrowing watching the two men climb up the bridge in that rain. Must've bin awful. Me 'art went into me mouth when I saw one of 'em slip, but 'e made sure Prime Minister Baker, 'oo 'e were brining down, didn't get 'urt. I tell ya, it was fantastic and terrifying to watch at the same time."
"Thank you, PC Atkins, and Fiona and PC Meehan. This is Giles Baxter, reporting on another fantastic achievement by those heroes, International Rescue."
xxxx
The man with his head bent over a pint of bitter cut a lonely figure as he sat in the Horse and Axe Bar. On the wide screen televiewer screen above him, the Ned Cook show was being broadcast. An American import, it wasn't usually screened. This particular one, however, focused on one of the hottest topics on peoples' tongues all around the globe: International Rescue. Christopher glanced up; he pushed his glass from one hand to the other across the damp bar as he waited for his friend to arrive. He watched the screen with a blank face; he wasn't sure how to feel.
The barman followed his eye-line as he dried a glass, and set it on the counter behind him.
"International Rescue, eh? What a bunch of amazing people, right mate? I mean, they put themselves in danger to save others, without getting paid, and without any personal recognition. Couldn't even add it to their CVs if they left, could they? I tell you, they must be some really amazing people."
Some of them are, Christopher thought, and took another swig of his drink.
"Cat got your tongue?" The barman asked.
Christopher started and put his glass down, wiping off his mouth.
"Sorry, mate. Just a bit pre-occupied."
The barman smiled briefly, before turning to put away another glass. Christopher looked down at the slowly swirling dregs of his drink, his face still impassive. That was the start of the decline, he thought. That Fiona woman...and then the uncovering of the blatant discrimination in the organisation... He shook his head, and his lips thinned. Still, it wasn't all bad. He glanced up at the screen, lifted his glass, and almost imperceptibly, tipped it at the images flashing past. Here's to you, guys. It was a good ride while it lasted. He drained the drink, just as his friend arrived.
Post by ArtisticRainey on 11/20/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #146 is a reply to message #145] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:22 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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"Welcome back to our International Rescue year-in-review program. The next rescue IR was called for was the tsunami that hit Samoa and Fiji in April. I tend to think of IR in terms of rescuing people who are trapped, like I was. But this was more of a case helping people who had survived to recover from the disaster. NBTS reporter Bob Arlington covered the tsunami so we are switching over to him. Bob?"
The picture changed to a middle aged man, standing in front of a large building. You could see construction was going on behind him. People were going in and out of the doors. A large caduceus was lying on the ground to one side. "The earthquake occurred at 3:30 AM Tuesday, April 17th, approximately 600 miles north of Samoa. The people at the geographic research station in Brisbane, Australia sent out the alert to all of the islands in the tsunami's path within 30 minutes. They also called in all of the rescue organizations they could think of, including Doctors without Borders and International Rescue."
"By the time IR arrived, the tsunami had already passed by. This is what they found." The camera cut to film of the devastated areas, the collapsed buildings and the hospital with the caduceus hanging askew. A blue line on the bottom of the screen read "Tupua Tamasese Meaole II Hospital."
"This is the main hospital on the island of Savai'I, one of the eight islands that make up Samoa. When the wave went through, it went through the hospital as well as other buildings. The hospital was completely out of commission -- it sustained severe damage and its back up generator was knocked out of service. The staff managed to set up a field hospital, but the small generator they were using wasn't nearly enough.
"When IR got here they set up Thunderbird 7 between the hospital building and the temporary hospital. Surgery was possible now. Something equally important also happened. Two IR operatives set up a generator to replace the small one being used by the field hospital. They then went to repair the main hospital's broken generators."
The camera switched to a middle-aged Samoan man. He started talking and the translation scrolled across the bottom of the screen. "I was helping to bring patients out of the building. I heard a scream from the basement and went to look. This tiny lady in an IR uniform was sitting in the mud, with a fish trying to swim away from her. I picked up the fish and took it to a woman who was trying to make food for the workers and survivors. She cleaned it and made fish soup. She told everyone that the lunch was courtesy of International Rescue's fisherwoman."
"Oh no!" moaned Kat as the other women in Elise's apartment started laughing. "I am never going to live this down."
Bob reappeared on the screen. "Although they did search for survivors in the water, the medical help and the repair and replacement of the generators probably saved more lives than anything else done that day. It allowed people to get medical treatment, to cook food and to get warm. Another generator repair kept the drinking water pure and flowing. It also allowed the people trying to reunite family members to use their computers to keep track of people."
A young woman appeared on the screen. Again the translation appeared on the bottom of the screen. "I was visiting my mother when the wave came. The water pulled my mother out. I huddled in a corner but the water started to pull me out too. Then the wall behind me fell away. We were swept down a street past other houses. I grabbed a window and tried to hold on, but I couldn't. But the water wasn't as fast inside the house so I pushed my baby through the window. I kept grabbing things and finally held on to a tree. But I couldn't find my baby. I was frantic. I saw this lady in an IR uniform. She listened to me. She spoke my language! She took me to a place where there were people trying to find families. On the way there, two other people in IR uniforms came by and one of them had my baby!! I lost everyone else that day. My mother, my husband, his family, all are gone. But I have my little one here to remember them by."
The scene changed back to a picture of Ned Cook with Mercy General behind him. "IR also went to Fiji later that day. But one other thing happened on Savai'I. Doctors Without Borders has been around for a lot longer than IR. They are geared more towards recovery than rescue. The tsunami was exactly the sort of thing they are good at. Their first response team was at Samoa within hours. And the head of that team, Dr. Andrew Carmichael, of Mercy Hospital, met with International Rescue's Chief Medical Officer to coordinate patient care. Dr Carmichael was not willing to speak with us about his meeting with IR's CMO, but he has stated he was impressed. And apparently, so was she."
"We'll be right back after this."
"I think I'll get some chips and drinks. Want anything?" After taking Alan's request for a soda, Scott headed for the kitchen. Alan thought about joining him, but was stopped when the eyes on John's portrait started flashing.
"What's up, Brains? Do we have a rescue?"
Brains appeared in place of John's picture. "No, Alan. I just wondered if you had been watching Ned Cook's show. And I wondered if Kat was also."
"Kat and the other girls are watching it in Elise's apartment. Gordon is with Dom and Joshua. It's just me and Scott here."
"I was wondering if we should do something in honor of our official fisherwoman. Do you or Gordon have any rubber fish?"
"I know where we can get a large rubber fish to put in her bed. Or maybe in the pool next time she's there." Alan grinned.
Post by susanmartha on 11/20/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #147 is a reply to message #146] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:23 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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Deep within his hidden temple in Malaysia, the Hood was watching television in a small room. Taking an interest in the Ned Cook retrospective, he was somewhat anxious. "I hope he will get to the segment with the Pir Panjal tunnel, since I was very successful in my mission there."
At Mercy General, the crowd around Ned was still as boisterous, if not even louder than before. Fortunately for Ned, he was well protected by local police and the electrical barriers set up around him and the specially built outdoor studio.
He spoke into the camera. "It was very unusual for International Rescue not to have any distress calls during the month of May. Despite the tornado outbreak in the Great Plains, most people had heeded the warnings with very few injuries as a result. Despite an F4 tornado doing damage in the eastern suburbs of Oklahoma City, only 20 people were injured, none of them seriously."
"That means nothing to me!" the Hood shouted. "I want information about International Rescue itself, you fool reporter!"
"In June," said Ned, "IR started the month with a call to a remote mountain range in northern India. The India Star monorail train was just entering the Banihal Tunnel in the Pir Panjal Mountains when disaster struck. Allegedly someone deliberately set off explosives on both sides of the long tunnel, causing the rails to become twisted and the train to become trapped. The front part of the train was able to avoid the front end of the blockage, but many parts of the train dragged along the ground, which forced the train's freight to fall over. Several people sustained injuries, and to make matters worse, some of the freight started leaking dangerous chemicals."
The Hood cringed. "I cannot believe I had to call that blasted organization for help. I shall curse myself until my own death because of it!"
"The Indian Government was very hesitant to give us details about the chemicals involved. However, some passengers on the train, who all asked to remain anonymous, did share what their experience was like."
Going to another prerecorded segment, a woman was in shadow and her voice distorted. "It was frightening," she said. "There was this awful smell of a strange gas. I had to grab a handkerchief to cover my nose and mouth so I would not breathe the vapors. None of us knew what to make of it, but we knew with no air, no ventilation, we would all die in a matter of hours."
An Indian man soon appeared but was also in shadow. "We have no idea who called International Rescue to help us, but thank the gods they came to our rescue. I looked outside the train and saw a fairly small-sized person, I believe a woman, pouring a simple solution over the chemicals: baking soda. What genius this little person had to solve such a difficult problem with the easiest of neutralizers. She and the person working with her needed a couple of hours, but they succeeded, and not one life was lost as a result."
Ned's face reappeared on the screen. "Reuters journalist Sanjya Patel was able to get an exclusive interview with one of the injured passengers just hours after the incident."
Sanjya appeared on the screen with the passenger, lying in a hospital bed with gauze around his head. "What happened?"
"It was sabotage," replied the passenger. "I've ridden that train for more than 20 years, and that was no accident. Someone wanted to derail the train for a reason, but I have no idea what that is."
The Hood smiled wickedly. "Getting the anti-aircraft device was worth all the trouble I went through with IR."
Reappearing on the screen, Ned said, "Several e-mails were sent to the Bombay Reuters office. Those e-mails came from confidential sources that revealed the chemicals on the train were zinc oxide and alsterene. Scientists say this is a deadly combination that should never have been on board. In addition, a confidential source revealed to us that a unique anti-aircraft scanner was also stolen from the train. The person behind the train disaster was more than likely after the device and succeeded in stealing it. Indian Defense officials have denied all knowledge of this device."
The Hood chuckled in delight. "Of course those fools would deny it because they no longer have it." Walking out of the room and into another room filled with stolen treasures, he walked up to the pedestal which held the scanner. "I have the one piece of equipment that will put an end to that organization. I succeeded in jamming their communications once, and I shall do so again. One day, the secrets of International Rescue shall be mine."
Post by TracyFan4Ever on 11/20/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #148 is a reply to message #147] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:24 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
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"Last month," said Ned, when he appeared on the screen once again, "there were two rescues: one in Egypt and the other in Malaysia. First, the Egyptian one. It involved a sheik, his caravan and a sandstorm. And the effects went beyond the rescue. From Baris, with his report, is Rashidi al-Fulani."
Anna and her daughter had just settled into a booth at a cafe in Merivale Mall. They'd been shopping for things for Mary to take back to college, and both were footsore and hungry. The young woman glanced up at one of the TV screens hanging from the ceiling and exclaimed, "Look, Mom. It's a show about International Rescue." Anna looked up from the menu.
"Interesting. That has to be a group of people who probably needs counseling on a regular basis. I hope they have a good one." She went back to reading the menu.
"I wish I could have seen them when they were here last year. I bet they are cute."
"I'm glad you weren't there. I had three patients from that and believe me they did not have a fun time. " Anna put down her menu. "Watching your death come toward you, and being helpless to stop it, is not something you just 'get over'."
The scene switched to a desert. A man in his early thirties was standing amid some ruined buildings, that looked like they had been sandblasted several times. He began to speak.
"I am standing amid the ruins where a sheik took refuge not so very long ago. Out in the deserts, sandstorms appear frequently. It is not good to be away from shelter when they happen; the sand can literally skin you alive. Sheik Farees al-Rahman and his retinue were in vehicles when the storm hit them, and one vehicle overturned. Another skidded and came to a rest, leaning on it. They were the last vehicles in the caravan, and carried some of his wives, concubines and children, as well as drivers and bodyguards.
"The driver and bodyguard of the overturned vehicle were killed. Others were injured. And since the sheik knew that local rescue organizations didn't have the ability to go out in such storms, he called International Rescue.
"Because he still held to the old traditions, he asked for -- and got -- an all-female rescue team. He declined an interview for this show, nor did he allow any of his people to speak with us, stating that he had said all he needed to when he arrived at the hospital in Baris where the more severely injured were taken. Here is the tape of his remarks."
Seconds later there was the sheik and his son, standing in front of the hospital, with several reporters asking questions, Rashidi among them. "I want to thank International Rescue for coming to our aid. I wish to express my respect and admiration for the women of that organization -- although I never got to meet them -- and to tell them they have given me much to think about. Change is never easy, especially that of long term beliefs and traditions, but it may be time to begin. Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to check on the condition of my people."
The tape shifted back to Rashidi. "All of the injured recovered fully, and are back with the sheik. We have also learned that two wives and some of the concubines have been given opportunities to learn. One is currently enrolled at the university in Cairo, and the others have been given access to computers, and are taking online classes. The other women were given the choice to do the same things, and are currently trying to adapt to their change in lifestyle. And it is apparently due to the work of the female members of International Rescue."
As the broadcast shifted back to Ned, then went to a commercial, Mary said, "Wow, Mom. Imagine that, being a female member of International Rescue."
"I'd expect you to be more interested in the male members." Anna smiled mischievously.
"You mean you wouldn't mind sharing?" was the equally teasing reply. "I bet you'd enjoy counseling one or more of them."
"Counseling, no. I'd have to be professional. Now sharing a swimming pool, that's another matter entirely."
Post by Hobbeth with Anna-Mary dialogue assistance from Susanmartha on 11/21/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #149 is a reply to message #148] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:24 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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Rae stopped in front of a strangely dressed group of people. Men and women both wore robes in a familiar looking hue of blue that were accented by burgundy sashes. They were all bald and stood calmly and quietly, arms folded into their sleeves, not responding to anything around them.
"Hi there. I'm Rae McCormick; do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
One nodded. "As you wish."
"I was just wondering what you are all doing here today. Are you protesting International Rescue? Showing your support? Or, just watching the crowds?" Rae held her microphone in front of the man.
Joe zoomed in on the man's face. His blue eyes were strangely expressionless, yet not in a threatening way. He had some sort of deep red earring in his right ear. The man seemed to reflect a moment, then spoke softy, with a trace of accent that Joe couldn't identify. "We are here to uphold a vigil for our fallen brothers and sisters."
Rae arched an eyebrow. "Brothers and sisters?"
"The International Rescue operatives, of course."
"You're saying you know them?"
The man leveled his gaze on her. "They are one of us," He replied simply.
"One of you." Rae tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
"Like us, our brothers and sisters hail from Tyrikalica, what you Earth people call, Jupiter."
"So, International Rescue is made up of aliens?" Rae asked, as Joe tried to stifle a laugh.
The time the look he shot her was full of disdain. "We have grown accustomed to your species' distrust of anything you do not understand."
Rae smiled charmingly. "Forgive me. Please, help me understand."
The man paused a moment. "International Rescue--or as they are known on our planet, Jestreethzi n'Hildrathuk, the Saviors--were called by Undlieek, to transplant here to Earth. Here, they could do their millennium old duty of protecting the weaker species."
"Undlieek?" Rae asked.
"Our Holy Master. The great Star that burns over us all." The man replied, raising his face and hands towards the sun. Behind him, his followers did the same.
Rae nodded. "I see. Please, go on."
"There is much speculation as to the Savior's technology. Technology that you Earthlings have yet to discover for yourselves. We, the Tyrikalicans, have vowed to aid your peoples, using our superior skills and intelligence."
"So, we Earthlings don't understand the Thunderbirds' technology because it comes from Jupiter?"
The man nodded. "That is correct. It is a sacred duty we have sworn to uphold, no matter what persecutions come upon us."
Rae turned back to the camera. "Well, there you have it. Many things now become clear. The reason we cannot begin to comprehend International Rescue's security or technology is because it is indeed, of alien origin. Back to you, Ned."
Post by lillehafrue on 11/22/2006
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| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #150 is a reply to message #149] |
Sun, 22 July 2012 19:27 |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma: 2
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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"Oh my God!" Gordon howled. He was rolling on the floor in Dom's apartment, laughing hysterically, arms over his belly, eyes streaming with tears. "That is just too funny! Aliens from Jupiter!"
Dom, who had been laughing too, asked, "Have you never heard of them before?"
Gordon shook his head. "No! Never! And I'm sure we'd have seen them before now if they'd been at any rescue!" He laughed some more. "Oh, that is too rich!"
Josh clapped his hands and laughed, then toddled over to the still prone Gordon. He made as if to jump on Gordon's belly, but was caught and held in the air at arms' length.
"Hey, little man, no fair tackling a guy when he's down!"
***********
At the Regis, it was Virgil who had tears streaming down his face from the interview with the aliens. He smacked his brother on the arm. "Hey, John! Picked up any messages from 'home' lately?"
John, trying hard to hold back the laughter and look severe, said, "Idiots! We're from Mars, not Jupiter!"
Grandma gave him a sly, knowing smile and corrected him. "Only half are from Mars, dear. The other half are from Venus."
This set John off, and Virgil fell off the sofa laughing.
**********
Scott glared at his younger brother. Alan was laughing so hard that he was choking. Scott leaned over and pounded him on the back. "It's not that funny."
Alan looked up at Scott through bleary eyes. "H-How can you...say that?! I'm...dying here!" He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, then with another look at the television, burst out laughing again.
Scott rolled his eyes, but this time a hint of a smile appeared on his face. "I guess it does explain Gordon."
This time Alan fell off the couch, and a moment later Scott joined in the laughter.
**********
Elise, Kat, Callie, Nikki and Tin-Tin stared at the screen in various stages of shock and disbelief. "Tell me I didn't hear what I thought I heard." Nikki said.
Elise shook her head. "Aliens? We're aliens?"
"A few of us maybe, but not us girls," Callie added.
They all giggled. "I can't imagine some people actually believing in things like this!" Kat commented.
"That they do. Most people will believe nearly anything they hear," Tin-Tin told them. "However, I've never heard this one before!"
Nikki frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, this explains Dom's accent. He's not really Irish after all! He's...what did they call us? Tryikalican!!" They all burst out laughing.
"We're going to have a lot of fun with this!" Callie grinned mischievously.
**********
"Gimme that pillow!"
Jeff handed over the spare pillow and Dianne wrapped it around her abdomen, hugging herself hard. "Oh, God, it hurts!"
An alarm went off as Dianne's blood oxygen levels dropped. Jeff hurriedly donned his hat and visor as a nurse came rushing in.
"Doc?! Are you all right?" the nurse cried as she turned off the squealing alarm.
"Y-Yes!" Dianne replied between gasps, tears of both pain and mirth on her face. "It just hurts to laugh so much!"
The nurse's face brightened with comprehension. "Oh! I see! The weirdos! We're watching that, too! Man, where did those kooks come from?"
"They already told you," Jeff said with a grin. "They came from Jupiter."
"I believe it!" the nurse replied. "Come on, Doc. This is no time to start hyperventilating."
"I'll... I'll be all right. Just let me get calmed down," Dianne gasped. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through her nose. Eventually, she calmed, and her blood oxygen levels looked better. The nurse, satisfied, left, and Jeff took off his visor and hat once more.
"I hope there are no more surprises like that in this show," he said, shaking his head.
"Shouldn't be," said Dianne as she lay back, exhausted. "As I recall, the only things left are the rescue of the King of Thailand, and the most recent stuff."
He nodded. "You're right. But I'm beginning to think this show has a good purpose after all."
"Hmm?" Dianne questioned wordlessly.
"We've been made aware of some public perceptions that we might not otherwise have known. Like our... 'brethren' out there." Jeff rolled his eyes and Dianne let go of a strangled laugh. "For me, it's nice to put a face to some of the people we've rescued. I hear about them second or third hand and it's like meeting them in a way."
"Um hmm." Dianne nodded sleepily. "Shush now. The commercial's over. Here comes the next segment."
**********
Brains stared, open mouthed, at the view screen. "Crazy, absolutely crazy!" He shook his head. "Aliens! From Jupiter! Everyone knows Jupiter is made up of hydrogen and helium. There's no way a sentient organism can evolve from a gas giant!" He shook his head again. "Crazy..."
--reaction time from Lillehafrue and Tikatu on 11/22/2006
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