International Rescue: The Next Phase


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1583 is a reply to message #1582] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:00 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 4/3/2007 7:55 PM

Monday, August 20, 2068, 10 a.m., Wellington, New Zealand (same day, same time on Tracy Island)

"So, Dr. Tracy," Ed Haenga said as he looked over the data pad containing her medical notes. "How'd this all happen?"

"Automobile accident," Dianne said with a sigh. "Got my leg caught on the steerin' column. They had to cut off the metal to even get me out of the car. And even though the airbag deployed, the wheel was shoved up into my gut."

"Sounds painful and dangerous," he replied, still looking at the pad. He tapped the surface with a strong, dark finger. "Andrew Carmichael..." Looking up, he asked, "Wasn't that the surgeon who worked on the International Rescue operatives?"

She glanced up at Gordon, who succeeded in keeping from rolling his eyes. Nikki, along to learn how to guide Dianne in doing her exercises, hid a smile behind her hand. "Yes, he was," Dianne said, sounding weary. "He's also my uncle."

"Really?" Ed sounded very surprised. An eyebrow rose as he asked, "Did you get to see any of the Thunderbirds? See any of the operatives? I hear there was quite a crowd there."

"I managed to miss most of that," Dianne said. "I arrived after they took the CMO away to... wherever they took him."

"Her," Ed corrected. "The CMO is a woman... at least, that's what the news reports said."

"Ah," she replied, nodding. "You'll understand that I wasn't exactly coherent during all of the hullabaloo. Pain meds, you know. Most of what I heard was third or fourth hand."

"I see." It seemed the subject was now closed. "Well, then, let's get down to business and start with a heat treatment on that abdomen. Then we'll go through the first set of exercises. Better to do the abdominal muscles before lunch." He beckoned to the trio. "Come along with me."

xxxx

"So, why aren't you staying with Dianne?" Anna asked. "I could have called for a pick up from Wellington."

"I know," Jeff said with a grin. "But taking you to Lake Colenge gives me a good jumping off point for an errand I want to run in Sydney. A surprise for Dianne, actually. It's only an hour's flight time at Mach 2."

"You had to put that deviation in your flight plan, didn't you?" Anna asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I did, but Dianne hasn't seen the flight plan. I've sworn Gordon to secrecy, and given him a plausible story to use should she ask where I am. With luck, I'll be able to keep the trip quiet."

Anna chuckled. "Hope it doesn't cost you too much."



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1584 is a reply to message #1583] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:02 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 4/4/2007 5:24 PM

Monday, August 20, 2068, Noon, Wellington, NZ

Dianne looked around the restaurant, frowning. "I wonder where Jeff is?" She turned to Gordon. "Didn't he say he'd meet us for lunch?"

Gordon shook his head. "You mean he didn't tell you? He's got some errands to run, said he wanted to look into getting a safe for Mrs. Hanson's suite. He told me he'd be back in time for dinner."

"Oh." Dianne looked disappointed. "I was hoping he'd be here for the afternoon session."

"I'm sure he'll be here in time for dinner, Dianne," Nikki said, smiling. "He said he would be, and he's a man of his word."

Gordon grinned. "Right! Let's flag down the waiter; I'm starved!"

"I'm not," Dianne replied with a little grunt, rubbing her abdomen. "I'm just sore."

xxxx

same day, 10 a.m., Sydney, Australia (noon, NZ)

Jeff hummed as he got out of the company car near the exclusive jeweler's establishment. He'd made the appointment the day after he'd found his wife's rings. The velvet box resided in his trouser pocket and he closed his hand around it, absently running a thumb over the surface. This was the same place he'd gone to when he'd had the rings designed and made, and to him, it was only fitting that he return there now.

The elegantly dressed receptionist looked up as he walked in. "Mr. Tracy! A pleasure to see you again," she said, her accent sounding far more of London than of Sydney. "Please, sit down and allow me to tell Mr. Symmes that you are here."

"Thank you, Alicia." Jeff sat down in one of the well-upholstered chairs. The small waiting room had the look of a posh, period drawing room; in fact, Jeff had no trouble imagining the furniture in Lady Penelope's home. There was a middle-aged red-haired woman sitting across from him; she gave him an annoyed look with an arched eyebrow. Jeff wondered if perhaps she was also waiting for the jewelry designer. He glanced over at Alicia, who was speaking on the vidphone. She nodded, said something, and put down the receiver. Then she glanced his way, and smiled.

"Mr. Symmes will see you now, Mr. Tracy. Please follow me."

Jeff rose but had only taken a few steps when someone cleared their throat. Loudly.

"Excuse me, miss." The emphasis on that last word was dripping with sarcasm. "I believe I was here first."

Alicia stopped in her tracks and turned back. Her voice was cool but unruffled as she told the other client, "Indeed you were, Mrs. Chauvelin, but Mr. Tracy has an appointment." The slight stress on the last word was meant to put the other woman in her place. Alicia inclined her head. "Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff nodded, and followed the receptionist.

"My apologies, Mr. Tracy," Alicia said as she opened a door and motioned him inside.

"None needed," he replied amiably. "I hope she doesn't give Mr. Symmes too much grief."

Alicia smiled, a slightly pained expression, then Jeff went through the door.

"Hey, Mr. Tracy!" Julian Symmes stood from behind one of his work benches and offered his hand to Jeff. "Good to see you again."

"Good to see you, too, Mr. Sym..."

"Ah-ah!" Julian waved a finger in the air. "For you, it's Julian."

"Julian, then," Jeff replied.

The artisan rubbed his fingers together. "So, what's this I hear about my creation? Something's wrong?"

"No, not really," Jeff said, extricating the box from his pocket. "It's just that my wife was in a car accident..."

"An accident?" Julian sounded both surprised and concerned. "Is she all right?"

Jeff nodded. "Well, she was hurt, but is recovering very nicely." He handed over the box. "I wanted to make sure that all the gems were safe and sound before returning the rings to her. She was fortunate they were able to remove the rings without cutting them off," he said, rubbing his own, empty ring finger with his thumb. "But there still may have been some damage..."

"Of course, of course!" Julian exclaimed. "I'll look it over right away. Was there anything else?"

Jeff smiled, a sort of "aw, shucks" expression on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, yes. I finally decided on an inscription."

Julian chuckled. "Finally? It's been, what? Two years now?"

"Yes, about that... since the engagement, anyway. Nearly two years since the wedding, too." Jeff sobered. "It took this... accident for me to realize how much she means to me." He shrugged. "There's no way I can put it all on that ring, but I can say something meaningful."

"I understand." The designer handed him a data pad. "What would you like me to inscribe?" Jeff took the pad, and wrote a very brief statement, then handed it back. Julian smiled, and nodded. "You need this while you're here in Sydney?"

"Yes, definitely. She has no idea that I'm here, and I promised to be back to Wellington in time for dinner." Jeff paused. "She's started physical therapy today."

Julian paused, his loupe in one eye. "That bad?" When Jeff nodded, the jeweler sat down behind the bench, fixing his spotlight to his head, the bulb not yet lit. "Well, then. I'll make sure you can get back to Mrs. Tracy by dinnertime... in New Zealand." He turned and picked up the vidphone. "Alicia, cancel my appointments until three, or redistribute them to James and Gabrielle. Who? Mrs. Chauvelin? Tell her she'll have to settle for Jamie or Gabby, or come back tomorrow. Right. If she gives you trouble, tell Shang. He'll take care of it."

He glanced up at Jeff. "Where's your car?"

"Around the corner," Jeff said, frowning.

"You might want to go out the back. Mrs. Chauvelin is given to histrionics."

Jeff laughed. "I can handle it. I have a teenaged daughter."

"If you're sure..." Julian settled down and turned on his light.

"I'm sure. When should I come back?"

"Two o'clock. I'll have this completely done by then."

"Thanks. I'll see you then." With a wave, Jeff opened the door he'd come through. There was the faint sound of a raised voice. He turned back and saw the craftsman already at work on Dianne's engagement ring. Then he squared his shoulders, and headed out.

xxxx

same day, 3 p.m., Wellington, NZ (1 p.m., Sydney)

"That was a rough session," Nikki said, shaking her head. She sat on the divan in the suite's sitting room with a cup of hot tea. "I didn't realize how much muscle was involved."

"Yeah, it was sort of like John's leg when Mom first came on board," Gordon said. He was in one of the plush armchairs, the remote control in his hand. "That was a nasty situation, too. You see, though, why the massage is so important."

"Yes, I understand." She made a wry face. "In fact, I understood before we came here. I did have a unit on PT when I was at uni, you know."

Gordon opened his mouth, reconsidered what he was about to say, then went, "Ah!" He nodded, then turned back to the televid. "Let's see if there's something worth watching here."
"What would you consider worth watching?"

A surfing contest flashed by and Gordon changed the channel back so he could watch it. "Here, this'll do. Would you like to double up?" He offered the remote to Nikki.

"Hm." She considered his offer for a minute; to double up would mean a split screen, and both of them watching their choice on it. She shook her head. "No, I like sports. But you'll have to explain this one to me; I'm a virgin when it comes to surfing."

"A virgin, huh?" Gordon eyed her speculatively. "Maybe I need to do something about that."

"You dare," was her saucy reply. She nodded toward the screen. "Explain it to me, but keep it down so we don't wake Dianne."


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1585 is a reply to message #1584] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:04 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 4/4/2007 5:47 PM

same day, 5:30 p.m., Wellington, NZ (3:30 p.m., Sydney)

Dianne looked at her watch again, and peered in the mirror. She picked up her brush and ran it through her hair... again. Where is he? Why is his errand taking so long? Reservations are for six; at this rate, he'll barely have time to get dressed.

There was a sound at the door, then it slid open and Jeff walked in. Dianne let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, love," he said as he crossed the room, dropping something on the bed as he did. "Things took longer than I expected." He put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her cheek, then her lips as she turned toward him.

"I was getting worried," she said, looking up at him with an anxious expression. "Did you get everything done?"

He smiled, kissed her again, and began to pull at his tie. "I most certainly did. There'll be a safe on its way to the island in a few days. I think I've been inside every security system place on the North Island! And what a pain trying to get it shipped! You'd think they didn't want to take my money or something!" Well, that wasn't quite true; he'd worked with the purchasing department in the Tracy Industries Sydney offices to buy the safe and arrange for shipping. He shook his head as he pulled his shirt from his trousers and began to unbutton it. "Then I had a couple of other small errands to run, including looking for... this!"

He handed her the package he'd dropped on the bed, and continued to divest himself of his clothes as she opened it up. Her eyes grew wide as she pulled out... a cane. Collapsible for easy carrying, the straight metal tube was covered with a dark, paisley print, and had a simple though elegant handle of carved mahogany.

"Do you like it?" he asked, moving over to the garment bag to fetch a shirt. "I know you won't be using it for long..."

"It's lovely!" she said, reaching out for the cane she had been using. "I'll have to adjust it."

"I can do that." Jeff shrugged into his clean shirt and took a few steps in Dianne's direction.

"Nonsense. You finish getting dressed. I can fix this myself."

They were quiet for a few moments, but finally Jeff was putting on his shoes, and Dianne stood, using the new cane for the first time. She had a necklace in one hand. "Would you please help me with this?"

"Of course, love." Jeff stopped tying his shoe and came to her. She turned, taking little steps, and he took the necklace from her hand, drawing it up to fasten. He kissed her lightly on the neck and sighed heavily, his warm breath tickling the hairs at her nape. She looked over her shoulder at him and their lips met once again.

"You'd better finish getting dressed," she murmured. "We're going to be late."

"All right," he replied softly, kissing her once more. He moved back to put on his other shoe, thinking about the velvet box that rested in the hotel safe, and trying to figure out how to retrieve it without his wife knowing.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1586 is a reply to message #1585] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:05 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 4/4/2007 7:24 PM

Monday, August 20; Murray Gill, Kansas; 4:30 PM (9:30 AM August 21 on Tracy Island)

Michael Hart sat in the back of his limo, on his way to the Valerian residence. He would have preferred to drive himself, but his left leg was still in a cast - although it was a shorter, lighter one -- and he was still susceptible to headaches that made driving out of the question for the time being.

He thought back to the day Mrs. Valerian -- Carol -- came into his room, three days after he'd made the bet with Peter.

"Hello, Michael. May I come in?"

He put down the newspaper he'd been reading. "Carol! Please do.

I'm glad to see you. How's Peter?"

"He's much better, thanks in part to you. And you?"

"I've been told that I can get out of here and go home in a couple of days."

She smiled mischievously. "That's great! But I'm afraid that means you lose the bet you made with my son. He's being released today. And he's already got the restaurant picked out. It's been around for decades." She sobered. "It's the one his father took him to once a month for a father-son dinner."

"Are you okay with that?" he asked, concerned about the look on her face.

"Y-yes, I think I am. I'm sure I will be, by the time you two are well enough to go out together. As a matter of fact, I came here to give you our address and phone number, so you can let us know when that day will be." She handed him a card. "And don't try to rush it; we're patient."

"Carol, I want to put one condition on my paying off the bet."

"What's that?"

"That you come, too. Have you ever been to this restaurant?"

"Oh, yes, several times, though not since my husband died. It's very good."

"What's it called?" She told him. "Ah, I've heard of it. Are their fries as good as they claim?"

"Better. They aren't as greasy as you get in those fast food places. They're crisp and golden brown on the outside, and tender on the inside. My husband used to say that they were so good, putting ketchup or anything else on them would spoil the taste."

"Well, I'm certainly looking forward to dining there. So you'll come, too?"

She smiled. "Yes, I accept. But now I have to go. They were getting Peter ready to leave, but he wanted me to let you know right away." She turned and headed toward the door, then looked back. "See you soon, Michael."

"Bye, Carol. I'm looking forward to it."

His reminiscences ended as they pulled up in front of the house. The driver got out and helped Michael emerge from the vehicle. It was a special one, able to handle someone in a wheelchair as well as on crutches. But I'll be glad when I can get rid of these things, he thought. He hobbled up to the front door and rang the bell.

Carol opened the door and he saw Peter in the living room beyond her, wearing his Special Olympics medal over his tee shirt. But what Michael noticed even more was the big grin on the boy's face. "Hey, Peter. I hope you're hungry. I sure am. Ready to go?"

Peter nodded vigorously, and both adults laughed. With the driver's help, everyone was soon in the vehicle and on the way to the restaurant. Michael and Carol chatted like old friends, and he found himself able to correctly interpret some of the expressions on the boy's face.

"Hey, Peter, isn't this some fancy limo for people like us?" The boy nodded, but looked sad. "Oh, come on now. I know you don't like the thought of being in that chair, but I also know that if you work at it, some day you'll be walking and running like most other kids. Of course, that would mean that you couldn't compete in the Special Olympics any more, but maybe you could compete in the regular ones then. What do you think?"

Peter looked at him, surprised. Then he began to smile tentatively, and looked questioningly at his mother, then Michael.

"Sure you could. Why not? Let me tell you something I read about. There was a woman whose name was Wilma Rudolph. When she was a little girl, she suffered from double pneumonia, scarlet fever, and even polio, which was a crippling disease. But she overcame all that and won a bronze medal in 1956 and three gold medals in 1960 in track competitions. That was over a hundred years ago. I bet that now you could do something like that. Am I right or am I right?" Michael told him.

Peter's smile grew to a grin and he wiggled all over with glee.

Michael was about to say something more, but the limo drew to a halt and the driver got out. "We have arrived, sir," he said as he opened the door.

Soon they were outside looking at the restaurant's sign.

Liz's Broadway Burgers


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1587 is a reply to message #1586] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:09 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 4/5/2007 6:50 PM

Tuesday, August 21, 7 PM; College Park, Maryland (11 AM Aug. 22 on Tracy Island)

After dinner, Lena helped Amelia load the dishwasher while Matthew took care of some work he'd brought home. Afterward, they headed into the living room, but Lena was restless "I feel de need to take a walk. Do eiter of you want to come?"

"That's a good idea, Mom," Matthew replied. "I had no court time today, and was chained to my desk. I could use a little exercise, especially since my wife is such a good cook." He leaned over and kissed Amelia, who blushed and giggled a little.

"Well you two go on, then," she said. "You need some time together, and I have a magazine article I want to read before my favorite show comes on at 8."

It was a clear, balmy evening with a light breeze sending the fragrance of several different flowers for all to enjoy. When they got to the sidewalk, they both took deep appreciative breaths. Matthew linked his mother's right arm in his, and they began to stroll down the block, chatting about inconsequential things along the way.

Finally he had to ask his mother the question he'd been avoiding. "Mom, are you going to continue to work for Tracy Industries as both head of I&M and I&M coordinator?"

"Of course I am. I'm not ready to retire, not by a long shot."

"And what about flying? Are you going to have a problem with that?"

She hesitated. "I don't know, Mattew. I have to fly; it's part of de job I took on. I may have some fear de next time I get on a plane, but I tink I can work trough it. Anyway, I intend to try."

He smiled and patted her hand. "You know that I'll support you whatever happens, don't you? I love you very much."

"Of course you do. I'm your motter." They both laughed, then Lena added, "I love you too. You're so much like your fadder. When we're togetter like dis, I don't miss him as much."

"Do you get lonely still, Mom?"

"Sometimes. But it isn't nearly as bad as it was at first. And I have enough to keep me occupied so dat it doesn't happen as often as it used to." She looked up at her son. "Don't be concerned; I'm doing fine."

"I'm glad. But you don't mind if I worry about you now and then, do you?"

"I can't keep you from doing dat; we all worry about dose we love. So how can I say otterwise?"

He released her arm, so he could hug her, which she returned gladly. Then once again linking arms, they strolled on in silence, just enjoying being together. But ten minutes later, Lena stopped suddenly, causing Matthew to look at her in concern.

"What's wrong, Mom?"

"Notting, honey. I just had an idea about a project I was working on before I left for Denver. Dere was a bit of an obstacle to what I wanted to do, and I tink I just figured out how to get around it."

"And here I thought you were enjoying my company."

Lena snorted. "I was and I am; don't you try to kid me, young man." She paused, thinking. "I'm not sure how de idea came into my mind. I was just remembering when you and Joy were little and I was doing freelance work. De idea suddenly popped into my head."

"That happens to me sometimes. Do you think it's the answer to getting around the obstacle?"

"Possibly. I won't know until I'm able to work on my own computer at home. I'll have to add a note to myself about it in my laptop. I'm amazed dat de airline company was able to locate it and get it back to me."

"I was amazed to see that it was still working."

Lena smiled. "Tracy Industries makes sure deir computers are de best, and built to witstand just about anyting. But you're right, son; I was surprised, too. Now all I have to do is remember dis idea so I can input it when we get back to your place."

"Do you want to head back now?"

"Not unless you do. I'm enjoying dis too much."

So they continued their walk.



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1588 is a reply to message #1587] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:11 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 4/7/2007 10:53 AM

Wednesday, August 22, 2068, 10 a.m., Tracy Island

"Well, I guess this is it," Maggie said, squaring her shoulders and turning to her sister-in-law.

"For the moment, yeah," Lisa replied. She held out her arms and the two women embraced. "I'll let you know the date and all the pertinent details as soon as we've decided on them."

Maggie drew back and shook a finger at Lisa. "I'll be waiting for them. Don't be too long about it now."

Lisa chuckled. "We won't. I promise."

Maggie moved to Kyrano. "You heard what she said," Maggie told him, gesturing toward Lisa with her head.

"I did indeed," Kyrano replied gravely. He bowed to her. "It has been a pleasure to have you here, Mrs. Carmichael."

"Kyrano, you are on the cusp of becoming an in-law," Maggie cautioned him. "Please call me Maggie."

"I will try... Maggie. Old habits are hard to break."

"We'll work on it, Mags," Lisa assured her, moving close to her beau and taking his hand.

"I know you will," Maggie said. She then turned to Dianne, who was standing beside Kyrano, both hands on her cane. "Now as for you, young lady, I expect to hear you working hard on your therapy and getting back to work soon."

"I will," Dianne promised as she embraced her aunt with one arm. "I'll keep Drew posted on a regular basis."

Maggie squeezed Dianne gently, then moved to Jeff. "Take good care of them."

"Don't I always?" he asked with a wink. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

As Maggie moved along to say her goodbyes to the Tracy offspring, old and young alike, Drew passed her to say his farewells to the adults. He shook Kyrano's hand heartily. "Thanks, Kyrano. You've done so much for my family in a lot of ways, best of which is take this sister of mine into your heart and life. I look forward to becoming your brother-in-law."

"As do I," Kyrano replied, smiling a little. "Travel safely."

"We will." Drew turned to squeeze his sister tightly. "You behave yourself, and let us know the date."

"I will, as soon as it's decided," Lisa replied. She looked up at him, her eyes moist. "I love you, y'know."

"I know, and the feeling's mutual." He glanced over to the rest of the Tracys. "I'll call you when we get to L.A." He sighed. "I bet my workload has been piling up while we've been gallivanting around here."

"Who's been gallivanting?" Dianne asked as she limped over. "We put you to work!"

"And you'd better get back to work yourself, girl," Drew said. "I expect you to be rid of that cane very soon."

"Don't worry, I will. Gordon will see to that," she replied with a grimace. She hugged her uncle. "Take care."

"We will," Drew promised. "And if you want to go with that idea Maggie had, give us a call. We'll work out the details."

Dianne glanced behind her, to where Cherie was giving Maggie a hug. "Believe me, I'm thinking about it," she admitted.

Jeff came up, and offered his hand, then when Drew took it, pulled him into a back-thumping hug. "Thanks for all you've done, Andy. There's no way we can repay you."

"You just keep on with what you're doing. That's repayment enough," Drew said with a serious nod. "And if you need me again, you know where to find me."

"Right." Jeff said with a smile. They shook hands again.

"Maggie! Let's load up!" Drew said as he released Jeff's hand. He waved. "Goodbye, y'all!"

There was a general chorus of goodbyes from the Tracy clan and Scott darted inside the hangar. He headed up to Flight Control, one level below the Cliff House patio. It was seldom used these days, but sending his uncle's plane off from there was easier than running back up to the Villa to do it.

Jeff made sure that all the doors and hatches of Drew's jet were secure, then herded his family well away from the plane. Virgil and Alan ducked into the hangar to close the small aircraft door. Tyler put his hands over his ears, but the rest of the family waved as the Carmichael's plane taxied down the short runway and headed into the sunny morning sky.

"The house is going to feel a little empty now that they're gone," Lisa remarked sadly. "I miss them already."

"You will see them again soon, my love," Kyrano assured her. "As for us, we have duties to attend to, and a wedding to plan." He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Come. Let us return to the Villa and begin the preparations. It is time we did what we set out to do."

Lisa smiled and squeezed his arm as they headed back to the little carts that had brought the family to the airstrip.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1589 is a reply to message #1588] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:11 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 4/7/2007 11:55 AM

Wednesday, August 22, 8:00pm (10:00pm Tracy Island) Outside Bundaberg, Queensland, Australia...

The two men watched the fire from the edges of the field. The sugar cane was burning steadily, the darkening sky above reflecting the orange flames. Soon, the excess leaves and waxy stalks would be cleared and the cane would be ready to harvest. The threshers and harvesters stood ready at the edge of the field.

"Looks like we'll get a decent crop this year," one commented to the other.

"Yeah, considering we've had no rain, that would be a good thing!" They both chuckled.

"So, Justin, you and Kerrie set a date yet?"

"Nah, nothing official. We're thinking of end of summer. Maybe in March sometime."

"Good idea, won't be so hot."

"Yeah, we can save money on beer!" Both laughed.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Justin looked up and frowned. "Sam, feels like the wind's shifting."

"I hope not." They hurried inside one of the buildings. Sam picked up a phone. "Hey, what's the wind out there?" His eyes widened as he looked over at Justin. "I thought things were going to be clear?...No worries, we'll ring you back if anything changes." He hung up the phone. "Weather bureau says to expect winds to pick up. A low or something moving through."

"We'd better go have the crew wet the perimeters. God help us if it jumps the field." Now it was Justin's turn to go pale. "Cripes, Sam, the rum plant!"

"Damn! If the fire jumps and hits the mill..." Justin's voice trailed off.

"We can't let that happen. The 'back's too dry. The fire could wipe out the whole area!" Sam replied as the men ran back towards the field. "Get the rest of the crew out there, double!"

Justin nodded as he climbed into a truck. He gunned the engine, picking up the radio as he drove off. Sam watched him go then got into another and hurried off in the opposite direction. Please, don't let it spread...



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1590 is a reply to message #1589] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:12 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 4/9/2007 7:12 PM

Bozeman, Montana, Thursday, August 23rd, 7:30 AM (Wednesday, August 24th, 1:30 AM, Tracy Island)

Luke pushed his breakfast around his plate and sighed. He glanced out the window, not really seeing anything. After a few minutes, he got up and stretched, then turned to his parents. "I'm going to drown some worms. I'll see you both later. Rom, c'mon." He flashed them a brief smile, then left the room. A moment later, they heard the door slam and the jeep start up, soon fading in the distance.

Melisa turned to her husband. "Your son is moping."

Richard looked up over his newspaper. "My son? Why is he only my son when he's in a mood?" he griped good-naturedly.

Melisa smiled. "Because you're where he gets it from."

Richard frowned at her but smiled. He folded his paper and got up, putting his coffee mug in the sink. He placed a kiss on his wife's lips. "I have to get to the store. When Luke comes back, I'll talk to him."

"I know you will." She smiled back. "I'll be there soon."

xxxx

Luke drove down the dusty dirt road in silence, not even bothering to put on the radio. Rommel had his head out the window, grinning into the wind. Finally, Luke pulled off, and with a whistle to his dog, grabbed his fishing pole and headed down the path.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting by a good sized brook, his line in the water. Rommel was sniffing around the edge of the water, but knowing better than to dive in. He finally settled himself at Luke's side and dozed off.

Luke rested his hand on Rommel's back, idly rubbing his thick fur. "Well, Rom, it's just you and me. Let me tell you that interview was a doozy. International Rescue! The chance of a lifetime." He stared out at the water. "But do I really want to stay in rescue work?" He tensed a moment as his fish-line tightened, then went slack again. He reeled it in, and cast out in a different spot, letting the lure float on the current.

"Rommel, what do you think I should do?" The dog looked up at his name and his tail thumped. Luke grinned and ruffled his fur. "I know what you'd do, you'd eat!" Rommel merely rolled over onto his back so Luke could rub his belly. Luke sighed again and complied, his thoughts still in turmoil. I'm in a rut. Not happy with anything at the moment. The Tracy Industries job took a turn I certainly wasn't expecting! But is it what I want to do? He was interrupted but a sharp tug on his line. Luke quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed his pole. He reeled in as fast as he could, the pole bending nearly double. After a few minutes of fighting, he landed a good sized rainbow trout. He deftly cleaned the fish and put it in his creel, then set his line again.

"OK, Rom, let's think about this." Once again, the dog looked up at him, ears cocked. "Am I avoiding this job because it's rescue work? Or is it something else?" Luke sat down again. "I love my job; it's Derek that makes me nuts. And, am I wavering on the International Rescue thing because I don't want to deal with the potential of the same situation?" He sighed. Or is Mom right? Was I hoping this job in Los Angeles would bring Barry and I back together again? He reeled his line in and paced along the shoreline, Rommel trotting next to him.

He paused to stare out over the water. "I miss him, Rom," he said, his voice thick. Rommel sensed his master's discomfort and nudged his nose into Luke's hand. "I love him, and I miss him."

Luke crouched down and put his head in his hands, finally allowing his feelings to come free. Rommel whined and tried to lick Luke's face, offering comfort the only way he knew how. Luke pulled his dog close, burying his face in Rom's thick fur.

"Face it, Morel, you and Barry are over." Saying the words out loud sounded so final. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up at the sun reflecting on the water. "Time to move on with my life. Or try to anyway." He got to his feet and took a deep breath. "They say God makes things happen for a reason. Maybe International Rescue is where I was meant to be all along." Rommel gave a happy bark; glad to see whatever had been bothering his master was gone. Luke grinned down at him. "So, mutt, think you'll like living on a tropical island?"


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1591 is a reply to message #1590] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:18 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: AmandaTracyandFred Sent: 4/10/2007 8:38 PM

(Tracy Island August 24, 2068; 9 a.m./ Richmond, VA August 25, 2068; 5 p.m.)

On Tracy Island, Jeff was rapidly reading a report from a subsidiary company who'd sent information on a new development in lightweight polymers, when he heard Thunderbird 1's gantry exit hiss open. Heather was the first one to walk in. Scott followed seconds later. The two highly skilled jet pilots came out in the middle of a noisy discussion.

"Look, Scott. On a regular basis, you describe Thunderbird 1 as 'my baby, my baby'! Good jumpin' grief! Thunderbird 1 doesn't belong to you!" At this, Jeff hid his grin in the electronic reports in front of him.

"Heather, you're just jealous. C'mon! Admit to the fact! Thunderbird 1 is under my chief command, and that's all there is to it! If you want to fly her, you've got to do it to my satisfaction," Scott countered, making Jeff wonder if there were two separate conversations going on and the two 'kids' weren't really listening to each other.

Turning around in the middle center of the lounge, Heather placed her hands on her hips, defiantly. "Face it, Scott. You can't stand the idea, but the truth will out!"

"And the truth is?" Scott countered.

"Thunderbird 1 doesn't belong to you."

Scott's mouth fell open, feeling as if he'd been hit square in the head. "Come again?"

"I said Thunderbird 1 doesn't belong to you!" Heather insisted more firmly.

"Explain this one, Heather."

"International Rescue is for all intents and purposes a quasi-military installation. Thunderbird 1 and all the other equipment used to carry out your missions belongs to International Rescue. Right?"

"Well... right," Scott agreed.

"Okay, that means that Thunderbird 1 belongs to International Rescue. Not you."

Still looking at his paperwork, Jeff slid into the conversation. "She's right, Scott."

Heather grinned at the field commander. "Gotcha!"

"Now hold on a minute. What about Blue Streak?"

"Am I prideful about Blue Streak? Yes, and I'm not afraid to admit it, but you have to remember, too, Blue Streak is mine! I own her. She belongs to no one else. Thunderbird 1, however, cannot be considered your own private jet plane. It does not belong to you. You. Just. Borrow. Her," she said, emphasizing the last four words.

At that moment, Heather's cellphone rang as they stood glaring at each other. She pulled it out of her phone holster and looked at the screen. Scott witnessed Heather crossing herself, raising her hands in prayer with the little cellphone between her palms. Taking a a deep breath, Heather stepped outside the lounge. "Hi, mother."

"Heather? You and I have to have a discussion and now!"

"I'm all ears, Mom--"

"I am fed up and tired of your attitude, young lady! And that's 'mother'."

"This is what you called me about? You want to talk about my attitude?"

"You hung up on me the last time we talked--!"

Swallowing her growing anger, the new pilot straightened as the ocean roared in the background. "Mother, why do we talk this way? All my life it's been like this! I can't live the life you--want--me--to live." An idea began to take shape. I'm beginning to wish I could strangle Grandma. "That's what you're trying to do, isn't it? You're not angry with me. You're angry with your mother and Grandmother is dead now. I remind you of who you could have been if you hadn't listened to her."

From the receiver, Heather heard a strangled sound. "You have no idea what you're saying!" Martha shouted.

Calm came to Heather when she spoke aloud her thoughts. "Mother, you're angry with me because I blew you off. I'm doing what you wished you'd done to Grandmother." When Martha didn't respond, she tried again. "Mother," Heather entreated. "You've always been free to do whatever you ever wanted to do! You didn't have to follow Grandma's footsteps! You're beautiful! You're intelligent--!"

A chilling voice came over Heather's cellphone. "How dare you desecrate my mother's memory. Don't you ever talk to me like that again. In fact," Martha intoned coldly, "don't talk to me at all! Is that clear?"

Heather exploded so loudly Scott and Jeff could hear her from the lounge. "Mom! You're the one who called me--!"

Suddenly, the dial tone popped back on, leaving Heather feeling cold all over.




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Re: Winds of Change [message #1592 is a reply to message #1591] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:18 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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Dressed in a black dancer's leotard and leg warmers, Amy walked into the living room, hearing the slam of a receiver down on its cradle. Carrying her gym bag on her arm, Amy saw her mother looking about the sumptuous soft blue living room with crystal based lamps and marble chess set sitting upon its white and black marble stand. Two Louis XVI chairs of blue and coral paisley embroidery on taupe silk, supported by ornate legs, sat on opposite sides of a comfortable off-white sofa. Above the fireplace, across from the sofa hung paintings of James and Martha together. Heather's hung above them. Donny was on James' left and Amy was on Martha's right.

"Mom--?" Amy began. "Why are you--?"

"'Mother'!" Martha snapped at her 17-year-old daughter. "Have you seen the keys to the Mercedes?"

"No, Mother," Amy corrected herself. "Who was on the phone?"

Martha looked at Amy with narrowed, angry eyes and then walked over to where Heather's picture hung and yanked it off the wall.

"Never mind. I just figured it out," remarked Amy. "How's she doing?"

"I'm writing that girl out of my will!" Martha explained as she hurried over to the rolltop desk and shoved it open. "She hung up on me! She said I've never said 'I love you'! I'm absolutely done with that girl!"

Amy groaned to herself. Heather was right. Their mother never said those endearing words to Heather or Donny, and Amy heard it once in a great while, whereas their father, James said them constantly. He would hug each one whenever he came home, showering them with little gifts he found on his travels. When they went to bed, Jim would come out of his den to wish them good night. He would correct them when any of them needed it, and would play ancient boardgames like Monopoly with them. He had endless patience for all of them. I can totally understand why Heather ran off to the Navy. Geez, Mom!

Martha stole a look at the coffee table that sat in front of the sofa where Amy sat down. "In fact," Martha said with such firmness that Amy felt chilled, "After I drop you off, I'm going to my lawyer. I. Am. Through!"

Amy thought to herself, She's really going to do it! She's threatened to kick Heather out of the family!

"Mother, calm down," Amy said carefully.

"Where did I put them?" Martha said to herself, looking at the mantelpiece. "What did I do with them? Amy, call Rosemary upstairs and see if I left them in the bedroom."

Sighing, Amy took out her satphone and touched a button which switched the signal to the electronic intercom system. "Rosy? Pick up, please."

A bright, cheery voice answered, "Yes, Miss? What can I do for you?"

"Rosy, have you seen my mother's keys?"

"Oh no, Miss Amy. Not so far."

"Rosy, would you do a thorough check of the 2nd floor and see if Mother's keys are up there somewhere?"

"I surely will."

Setting their maid on a detailed search, Amy looked around, noticing that Martha was no longer in the room. "Mother? Rosemary is looking upstairs for your keys!"

"Good!" Martha called back on the intercom from the dining room. "I've got to find them! If we don't get on the road soon, we'll be late for your dance class. Are you ready?"

Mom always dresses as if she's going to a dinner party!

"Yes, Mother." Amy sighed, touching the bun in her hair. "Mom, I want to quit ballet."

"Quit?" Martha said with surprise. "Oh no, you're not. With the money I'm spending, you should be as good as Ms. Kovnakova."

"Mother, Ms. Kovnakova is the finest Prima Donna in the world. I have no talent for this. I'd rather be in gymnastics--"

"Gymnasts have to take ballet, so you'll be ahead of the game," Martha said firmly. "Ah, there's Rosemary. Did you find them?" she asked the maid who stepped down the stairway.

I wonder if Heather has room for me? Maybe Donny, too. Donny's a different person around Heather, thought Amy.

Rosemary walked in at that moment, dressed in a crisp gray dress with a white apron and a fresh carnation pinned above the right breast pocket. Her attire was set with a bright, sunshiny smile that frustrated Martha. Amy was grateful Father found Rosy. Many times the chestnut haired older woman gave Amy and Donny both plenty of hugs, and reassuring advice, applying both liberally whenever possible and when Martha wasn't around. It was Martha's opinion that the hired help should do their job and should not be treated like the member of the family.

"Here they are, ma'am. I found them in the bathroom upstairs." From her apron pocket, she pulled out the tinkling set of keys.
Taking the keys, Martha hurried out the door to the Mercedes waiting for her.

"Have a nice time at dance class, Miss Amy," said Rosemary, giving Amy a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll try, Rosy. I'd rather go into gymnastics."

"Come home safely."

With the beep of a car horn, Amy raced out the door which Rosemary closed behind her. "Lord have mercy!" exclaimed Rosemary as she watched the Mercedes roared off.

Once out of the long drive, Martha guided the silver Benz out onto the paved two lane road leading to an exit that would take them to the highway.

"Mother, what is it about Heather that ticks you off so badly?"

"Amy, you were taught to speak better than that. I have told you and your father over and over again what's wrong, but neither of you listen--"

"Well, I'm listening now," Amy said with a slight amount of impatience.

"For years, since the day she was born, Heather had fought me in everything! When I wanted her to go take ballet, she took ice skating instead. When she was all dressed to go to a party, she ended up going to a baseball game! Her ball gown was destroyed!"

Amy turned away, laughing silently. Heather and her date, Brad Meyers, ended up on televid because of the way they were dressed. They'd been asked if they were getting married. Father laughed till his sides hurt, while Martha was mortified.

As they drove, Martha found the exit and sped up to match the highway traffic.

"Not long after that, she was on a hiking trip and almost died from that rattlesnake bite! If she had been doing what she was supposed to be doing, it wouldn't have happened! Then she takes her round the world trip a year early, skipping her debutante season. After that she winds up joining up in the Navy! Of all things! What man is going to marry her now?"

Certainly not the ones you want us to marry! Praise God for that! Amy thought to herself. Neither of us deserve men like Mom wants unless he's like Dad.

Her mother's words pushed Amy to the end of her patience. For many years, Amy had chided Heather for not falling in with Martha's plans. Observing her mother's behavior, Amy realized what Heather had to have known from the beginning. As the Mercedes pulled into the busy traffic, Amy spoke her thoughts. "Mom, you're jealous of her!"

Hearing the words spoken for the first time, Martha shifted her gaze off the busy traffic and over to her daughter. "I'm what?!"

"Mom!" Amy said with a swallow of breath.

Martha brought her attention swiftly back to the traffic ahead, straightening the car in time. Behind them was an 18-wheeler with MACK welded on the front of the grill. A Ferrari convertible whizzed passed them on the left.

"Me? Jealous of Heather?! That's ridiculous!"

"The more independent Heather became, the nastier you became! She's doing all the things you wished you were doing!" Unaware of her mother's anger and her own frustrations, Amy continued on, venting the feelings that everyone had expressed in one way or another. "She does all the things polite society says a woman isn't supposed to do! For Pete's sake, women's liberation was a hundred years ago! She didn't put up with a man who mistreated her just to please a bunch of old women-Mom! Look out!"

Amy screamed. Martha had turned her attention back to Amy and the car followed her. They hit the guardrail with a scream of steel against steel and a massive crunch when the MACK truck slammed into the back of the car, going too fast to stop. Car after car piled into each other when the MACK jackknifed.



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[Updated on: Fri, 27 July 2012 15:20]

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Re: Winds of Change [message #1593 is a reply to message #1592] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:25 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: AmandaTracyandFred Sent: 4/17/2007 4:57 PM

After lunch on Tracy Island, Virgil and Gordon lead Heather on an in depth tour down where Thunderbird 2 was berthed. Their footsteps echoed around them in the mammoth cavern while Virgil reflected on one of his most memorable rescues with Gordon adding backup information.

"Actually, it wasn't the rescue that was scary, but what happened to me afterwards--"

"Oh, you mean when we had to rescue Ned Cook and his cameraman? Gordon asked, remembering when he had to take Thunderbird 4 on a trip to New York City. The Navy's fastest battle ship, the Sentinel, had to transport him and his sub there after the same ship had nearly blown Thunderbird 2 out of the sky.

"That's the one," Virgil sighed. "I got the equipment back into Thunderbird 2 after stopping a petroleum fire in Texas. I took off ahead of Scott, while he had to explain to Ned why we couldn't have pictures taken of us."

"So that's what happened," Heather said thoughtfully. "I remember hearing about that on the news. Right after that, Ned was doing that crazy report on the moving of the Empire State Building and was buried alive under the rubble when it collapsed. He almost died over that."

"He's lucky he survived at all!" remarked Gordon sharply.

"Anyway, on the return trip back to the island," Virgil continued, "the Sentinel sent a total of six guided missiles after me. The first two missed me, exploding underneath the fuselage, but I got nailed on the second set--"

At that moment, Heather's cellphone began beeping. Looking down at the glowing screen, she saw her father's number flashing. "Excuse me," she sighed as she answered the call.

"Hi Dad. How are--Dad? Slow down," she said, catching both Gordon and Virgil's interest.

"Heather? You've got to come home!" she heard Jim say over the little speaker. Your mother is--"

"Dad, I can't come home right now. I just signed an agreement with Mr. Tracy and I can't leave--"

"Heather Marie!" Jim snapped. Never had her father treated her this way before, and she fell obediently silent. A knot in her stomach appeared as instinct told her something was very wrong. "There was a--I think--a 25 car, high speed pileup on the highway going into Richmond. Martha and Amy--they were pulled out of the wreckage--"

Heather's stomach clenched tighter at the news. "Oh no," she stammered in disbelief. "But--but I was just talking to her a couple hours ago!"

"Police found them at the front of the accident. They were flown to the hospital and they're both in emergency. I'm at the hospital now. Honey," he fairly pleaded, "you've got to come home."

Just the pattern of her speech and the blood draining out of her prairie tanned skin alarmed Gordon and Virgil. "I don't like this," Gordon whispered.

"Bad news," Virgil said simply. As she snapped the little communication device closed, the boys slowly flanked her. "Heather, are you okay? What's happened?" he asked firmly.

She heard nothing they said as her head began to pound. A gale force wind of emotions formed of guilt, fear, and growing anger whirled in her mind.

Virgil and Gordon flanked her. "She's goin' into shock. Come on, Gordon. Get her back to her apartment and I'll go get Mom and Dad."

"I'm on it, Virge. Heather? We're going to go back to your place, okay? I want you to come with me," Gordon spoke to her firmly, while taking her hand and wrapping his other arm around her. Sadly, she followed him subdued. This is really bad. he thought.

Virgil ran through the villa looking for Jeff who was in his study at the time. Jeff glanced up at Virgil as he knocked on the door, and then walked in without permission. The alarmed look on Virgil's face alerted Jeff to trouble. "What's wrong?" Jeff asked firmly, already getting up out of his seat.

Virgil took a deep breath to explain, while Gordon held Heather in his arms on the couch after getting her to her apartment. She hadn't said what was wrong, but she rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder making not a sound. Her entire body shivered hard as if she were freezing.

"Heather?!" he called. "You've got to tell me what happened."

Unable to speak, Heather screamed in the protective recesses of her mind. You've finally gone and done it, Mother! You found the only way I would ever come back home! You had to go and do it! And you took Amy with you!

"Heather?! Talk to me!" Gordon called louder getting into her face.

Taking several deep breaths to control her fury, Heather whispered, "Gordon, I'm so sorry. I have to go home!"



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1594 is a reply to message #1593] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:26 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: AmandaTracyandFred Sent: 4/17/2007 5:39 PM

A few minutes later, there was a chime at the door. Gordon hollered, "Come in!" hoping that whoever it was had a key. They did. Jeff came into the room, followed by Dianne with Virgil bringing up the rear.

"Hello, Heather," Jeff said, his voice solemn but comforting. He took a seat in one of the comfortable chairs, while Dianne sat on the sofa, flanking Heather on the side Gordon wasn't shoring up. "Virgil tells me that you may have gotten some bad news. Is this true?"

"Yes, it's true. My mother and sister are in intensive care in Richmond. Father called to say she was in a 25 car pileup. Sounds like more may have been involved. Anyway, he told me that they were pulled out of the wreckage in critical condition--" Heather explained, her face ashen.

Jeff's eyes widened, and Dianne gasped. Virgil, who had been looking out the French doors toward the sea, spun around on one heel, his face full of surprise and disbelief. Gordon swallowed, and gave Heather a strong hug.

There was quiet for a moment, then Jeff said, "Do you mind if I call your father? I'd like to see what we can do to help you and your family right now."

Heather nodded. "I know he'd appreciate that, Mr. Tracy." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "He thinks very highly of you."

Virgil dug into his back pocket and pulled out his satellite phone. "Here, Dad. Use mine." Jeff nodded, took the phone, and got the number from Heather.

While Jeff was making his call, Dianne was taking Heather's pulse, and checking her skin for shock. She smiled at the younger woman, hoping to be a comfort. "We'll work things out, Heather. Whatever you need, we'll provide."

In the ICU in St. Catherine's Hospital, Jim checked his cellphone and was surprised to see Virgil Tracy's name appearing on the screen. Tapping the screen directly, Jim had instant connection with Jeff. "Virgil? Virgil Tracy?"

"Jim? It's Jeff." Jeff got up and turned away from the people on the sofa. "Heather's just told me what happened. How can we help?"

Jim sighed heavily. The news so far had been dismal. "Jeff, I'm surprised to hear from you, but glad of it. I have no idea what can be done right now. I saw the accident on televid first thing. It was absolutely horrific. My wife--oh God, help me--Martha caused it--"

Dianne motioned to Virgil, who stepped forward. "Go find a blanket," she murmured as she studied Heather intently. Gordon let Heather sit up, but kept a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Why do you say this is your fault?" he asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched his brother go into the second bedroom in search of a blanket.

Meanwhile, Jeff was trying to figure out how to calm his friend down. "I'm sure it was an accident, Jim. I don't think your wife would do such a thing deliberately. In any case, do you want Heather to come home? And is there anyone else who needs transport?"

Rubbing his face with one hand while holding the satphone in the other, Jim held off the normal negative response and said, "Martha's sister, Jennifer, is packing right now to come here. Then there's Heather. Our maid, bless her heart, is looking after my disabled son, Donny--"

"All right," Jeff said. "I'll arrange for a private jet to fly your sister-in-law out from wherever she is. Heather... we'll get her there, but it may take longer than you expect. We don't live in Kansas anymore."

Virgil came from the second bedroom, a comforter draped over his shoulder. Between them, Gordon and Dianne managed to wrap it around Heather. Virgil gave his mother a questioning look, as if to ask, "What now?"

"Get Tin-Tin up here," Dianne said quietly. "I'm going to make some strong coffee."

"F-A-B," Virgil murmured as he headed for the elevator.

Gordon hadn't forgotten what Heather said earlier as Jeff talked to Jim. "Heather, what happened? Why in the world would you think you had anything to do with this?"

"My relationship with my mother has been near to impossible. She's the reason I ran into the Navy. I know she loved--loves--me in her own way, but she believes in arranged marriages--if you can believe it. She wanted a high society life for me and intended for me to marry into some prominent family. I couldn't even imagine it. That isn't all of it by far. But I believe I was her last call and we argued to the point where she told me she didn't want to talk to me ever. She hung up on me after that."

Gordon whistled, a low, quiet sound. "Wow. Arranged marriages. I mean... wow."

"Gordon, you wouldn't believe it. She got worse the older she became." Heather sighed.

Jeff was getting information from Jim on where Jenny was living. "Wichita's the nearest jetport? Hm. I could even have someone from the testing grounds fly her out. Okay, I'll ask Heather if there's anyone in particular she recommends."

He turned to the young woman. "Heather, I'm having your aunt flown out from the testing grounds. Anyone in particular I should ask for, or will any of the pilots do?"

"Myuh--supervisor, Blake. Aunt Jenny's met him previously. She likes him a lot."

Jeff nodded. "Got it." He turned back to his conversation.

Heather turned back to Gordon. "Gordon, I know I have to leave, but--I don't want to. I have never in my l-l-life e-ever b-broken an agreement!" Heather said before rubbing her face in her palms. Her hands' tremoring slowed slightly.

Gordon just held her and murmured, "It's okay. It's okay. This is a special circumstance. Besides, you don't know what's going to happen. Your mother and sister may come out of this just fine and you'll be back before you know it. Everyone has a tendency to exaggerate facts."

The door chimed, and Jeff hurried over to open the elevator, his ear still to the phone. Tin-Tin hurried in, followed by Virgil. The Malaysian quickly made her way to the sofa, while Jeff had a quiet word with his son, who nodded, and left again.

"Oh, Heather!" Tin-Tin cried. "Virgil told me what happened! Are you all right?"

xxxx

Jeff finished his call, and folded up the phone. "I need to get back up to the lounge and make arrangements with the testing grounds." He glanced at his watch. I don't know if I'll catch someone there, but I won't stop until I've made those arrangements." Stopping suddenly, he came over to crouch down before Heather.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he let it out slowly. "Heather, I don't want to sound like I'm pushing you, but... time is of the essence. Even at Mach 3 it's going to take you four hours to get to Richmond." His face was solemn as he added, "There's no guarantee that your mother and sister will survive that long."

"What Dad's trying to say is, you do have to go, and go quickly," Gordon said softly.

Swallowing hard, Heather knew he was right. Her instinct was to go hide in the deepest part of the island, but her father needed her, too. "I understand Mr. Tracy. I'll get started right now."

Jeff patted her knee. "You won't be going alone." He turned his gaze to his engineer. "Tin-Tin, you'll go with her. We'll figure out the details on getting you home a little later."

Tin-Tin's eyes widened. "Yes, sir," she said.

"But before you go haring off," came a voice from the kitchen, "come get this cup for me. I don't want to spill it."

"Of course, Dianne." Tin-Tin got up and went to fetch the mug of hot coffee.

"Now, you drink that. I made it sweet on purpose," Dianne said as she limped back to the sofa.

Smiling a little, Heather accepted the mug. "I have to admit, it smells wonderful." The warmth of the mug radiated down her fingers. She felt better already. Taking a sip, Heather looked at Dianne oddly. "You said 'on purpose'. Why specifically, if I may ask?"

"Because you've had a shock, and your system needs the energy that sugar provides," Dianne explained as she eased herself to the sofa. She glanced up at her husband. "Where's Virgil?"

"Prepping her plane," Jeff said as he stood. He gave Heather a grim smile. "I'll head up to my office and make some calls, then come up with a flight plan for you to look over. Would you like someone to help you pack?"

"Let me help you," Tin-Tin volunteered.

I want to be alone soooo bad, but there's no time! And I have to get going. The fact that it was her mother who brought about the situation inflamed her anger once more. "That would be great. I'll have to get in the air pretty quickly."

"Jeff," Dianne said. "You get moving." She glanced over at Tin-Tin. "You, too."

"I'm going," Jeff said, heading for the elevator.

Tin-Tin paused long enough to offer her friend a warm embrace. "You will get through this," she murmured.

"I hope so, Tin-Tin. I really hope so," Heather whispered. "Honestly, I want to just scream."

Forgetting Tin-Tin was supposed to help her, Heather shook her head and walked into her bedroom, closing the door.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1595 is a reply to message #1594] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:26 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: AmandaTracyandFred Sent: 4/17/2007 6:18 PM

"Mom?"

Dianne turned to Gordon, whose eyes were on the closed bedroom door. "Is there anything I can do to help? I feel like there should be..."

"From what I've seen, you've been a help already, Gordon. But you can brief the others on what's going on, and get a float ready for any luggage..."

He sighed. "I wish there was more I could do."

"I wish there was more that we all could do. It's one thing to rescue people you don't know from terrible disasters. It's another thing when it happens to someone you love." Dianne reflected. Gordon took one more look at the closed door worriedly and ran off to pass the word along.

In the bedroom, Heather sat down on the bed feeling a growing headache. "I can't believe any of this is happening!"

Setting the cup down on the nightstand she'd used only a few days, she walked over to her closet to the few clothes she had with her. "I guess it won't take long to pack. I didn't have much to begin with." Her hands fell on the red Lamaire dress that represented the glimpse into the future during Virgil's party. An eerie desire to rip the dress into shreds overwhelmed her for a moment before she mastered it.

In the lounge, Jeff had finally gotten in touch with Heather's old supervisor.

"Heather's mom and sister?" Blake said, incredulous. "I heard about that pile up on the news."

Jeff sighed a little. Should have known something that big would make the evening broadcasts.

"Too bad International Rescue couldn't come out, like they did for that pile up in Russia," Blake continued blithely. "But then, they might not be able to with their equipment broken and all."

Fighting the urge to tell his employee off, Jeff turned the subject back to the matter at hand. "I'm sure that the locals could handle things just fine. Now, about Heather's aunt..."

The dress reminded Heather of her stay at the Regis. That reminded her about the surprise she received when she went to pay for her stay at the exclusive hotel.

Scott had to have arranged to pay for her stay. "I owe them so much. Somehow, I need to come back. At least to repay all they've done for me," she said to herself.

With resignation, she reached down to grab her set of luggage, opened them up and set them open on the bed. "I can't believe I've been here for such a short time, and I just started to settle in."

There was a knock on the door and a gentle, spritely voice called, "Heather? It's Tin-Tin. May I come in?"

Breathing a sigh of relief as the anger began to return, Heather hurried over to the door and opened it. Tin-Tin gave Heather a hug and stepped in. "I hope your mother and sister pull through. You can be sure my prayers are going with you."

She'd held her emotions in, but being in the bedroom alone with Tin-Tin, Heather felt a sense of release. The Malaysian girl's shoulder became rapidly soaked. She let Heather cry for a bit, then gave her an encouraging squeeze, and led her over to the bed. "You sit down here, and I'll fetch a wet facecloth. Let me do the packing."

It took time for all the preparations to be made, but at last, the Jet Star was ready to leave. The Tracy family and all the recruits were on hand to see Heather off.

They all came out to see me. Heather thought to herself appreciatively. Tin-Tin stood behind her, already on the ladder to get seated in the cockpit of Heather's Jet Star.

Jeff was the first to walk up to her, shaking her hand firmly, followed by a long fatherly hug. "Your contract is still active. You are part of International Rescue. I expect you to hold yourself to that. Am I clear?" he asked, initiating a sense of duty and responsibility for Heather to support herself for the days ahead.

The Navy airwoman's back straightened and she nodded. "Aye aye, sir. Thank you for everything, Mr. Tracy."

Dianne, who stood next to Jeff, gave her a hug and a goodbye. "Come back to us soon, Heather."

"I will, Mrs. Tracy."

Virgil and Scott were next. "Mother's right. You will have to come back and see us," Scott agreed as he took her hand and shook it warmly. "Thank you for the song, too, by the way."

"You're welcome, Scott." she said with a sparkle in her eye. Virgil added his hug and goodbye.

Suddenly, a slightly tipsy image of the Thunderbird 2 pilot came to mind and she smiled. "Think I can get you to send me a copy of that party CD?"

Gordon laughed and gave her a long hug. "Are you kidding? I'll send it out to you tomorrow. I promise." Pushing her back so he could see her, his expression came more serious. "Heather, may I call you? See how you're doing? And you'll write me. Right?"

Heather laughed. "I will if you will. I'd better get going. Goodbye, everyone!" she said with a wave. This is a horrible way to say goodbye, Heather moaned.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1600 is a reply to message #1595] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:44 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 4/21/2007 7:15 PM

Friday, August 24th, 8:30 p.m., Tracy Island (4:30 a.m., the same day, Richmond, Virginia)

The phone in the lounge rang three times before Jeff finally reached it to take the call. He had been out on the balcony with Dianne, enjoying the cool evening air. He could see her struggle to her feet as he answered the call.

"Hello, Mr. Tracy. This is Tin-Tin." The Malaysian looked rather rumpled from her trip, and solemn.

Dianne entered the lounge in time to hear Jeff say, "Hello, Tin-Tin. How are things?"

Tin-Tin sat on the divan in the hotel suite where she'd decided to stay. "Difficult to say, Mr. Tracy. We arrived here in good time and without incident. Heather let me fly part of the way; her plane handles very well. But it was difficult getting to the hospital from the airport. They are still clearing up the accident, it seems."

"Sounds like it was a bad one."

"It was. Traffic is still backed up and being rerouted around the scene. We went straight to the hospital. It's chaos there."

"How are her mother and sister?" Dianne asked. Jeff got out of his chair and let her sit, then pulled up another seat so he could see and be seen by the vidphone.

Tin-Tin shook her head. "It doesn't look good. They are both in critical condition and are in the ICU. In fact, Heather's mother had just gotten out of surgery when we arrived." She sighed. "Since I wasn't family, the nurses politely asked me to leave. I understood, especially since they are so terribly busy with all the victims of this pileup. Heather mentioned my staying with them while I am here, but I feel it's an imposition for me to be show up unexpected on her father's doorstep at this early hour. So I've rented a suite for the moment. I'll know better what my plans are a little later in the day."

"Well, keep us up-to-date," Jeff told her. "We'll start working on getting you home somehow; with Kat gone, we'll really need you back here within a few days. In the meanwhile, get some rest."

"I will, Mr. Tracy." She smiled slightly. "Perhaps I could see Mrs. Matumbo while I'm in the area."

"Now that's a fine idea," Jeff said, smiling a little. "It'd be good to know how she was doing after her accident. I'll text you her information; you can give her a call later on."

"Thank you, Mr. Tracy." Tin-Tin stifled a yawn behind a hand.
"Get some sleep, Tin-Tin," Dianne said kindly. "Flying across so many time zones is harder than it looks."

"Yes, Dianne. I will, and I'll call again later. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Tin-Tin."

The call ended, and the elder Tracys glanced at each other. "It's been a rough few weeks," Jeff said, shaking his head. "So many accidents."

"I know, love, but we'll get through," Dianne assured him. "At least Tin-Tin and Heather got there safely." She leaned in to kiss him softly, then hauled herself to her feet. "I just looked at the clock; there are two young men in this house that need to be chivvied to bed."

"I'll handle it," Jeff said, getting up. "You take it easy."
Dianne raised an eyebrow at him. "I think we should both take care of this. Those two are a stubborn pair."

"Yes," Jeff agreed, "and they don't get it from anyone strange, either."

"Are you calling me stubborn, suh?" she asked as she headed for the study.

"I do believe I am, ma'am," Jeff replied with a grin. He put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's get the boys headed in the direction of their beds."


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1601 is a reply to message #1600] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:44 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 4/21/2007 7:27 PM

Thursday August 24, outside of Bundaberg, Queensland, 9:45 PM (11:45 PM Tracy Island.)

John tapped his pen on the edge of his note pad. He gazed out the windows for a moment and sighed. It's late, but I can't sleep, not until I know how this turns out.  He turned his attention back to the radio, and tweaked the dials a bit.

"...trying to keep it from spreading more. The plant's been evacuated and we cleared out as much of the rum as we could."

John quickly pulled up a map of the area and scanned it. "Damn. This doesn't look good. I'd better alert Da..."

"The chopper's down! Repeat, the chopper's down!"

John quickly keyed up another screen and scanned the data. "Base from Thunderbird Five, come in!"

"Base here, go ahead, Thunderbird Five."

"Boss, we have a potential situation in Australia." John quickly explained what was happening. "And now it appears that a helicopter full of rescue personnel has gone down."

"Have you received a call?"

"Negative, Boss."

John watched the emotions warring across his father's features. Finally Jeff sighed, "Notify the authorities; tell them we're on our way."

"FAB!"

xxxx

Justin wiped a weary hand across his eyes. After nearly a lifetime in the cane business, he'd never lost control of a fire like this. Granted, it wasn't entirely his fault. The winds shifted on their own, and who would have guessed the fire would have merged with another and then hit the petrol tanks on the outskirts of the city.

"You've cleared the area?" One of the firemen asked.

Justin nodded. "Yeah, everyone's out. We started evacuating as soon as the fire jumped the fence."

The man nodded. "Good." He smiled thinly, "It's not your fault. These things happen."

"Then why'd it have to happen to me?"

The man was about to respond when his radio went off. "The chopper's down! Repeat, the chopper's down!"

Both men looked at each other in horror. The fireman quickly picked up his radio. "What's the situation?" he demanded as he hurried back towards the control center.

"Looks like a gum tree exploded. The chop was caught in the bang and went down somewhere in the Outback. We're not getting any response to calls."

"Damn." The man closed his eyes and said a brief prayer, Please, someone help them.

"Cap! Over here!" He looked up to see one of his men waving. "You've got to hear this."

"This is International Rescue. We heard about your situation and are offering our assistance."

The captain grinned in relief. "This is Bundaberg Ladder Seven, International Rescue. We'd be grateful if you'd come give us a hand!"

"Consider it done; our people are on their way. Send me the coordinates so we can set down. We'll be coming with two ships, Thunderbirds One and Two."

"Roger that, International Rescue." The captain stepped back to let his radio man continue the conversation. He glanced up at the stars, barely visible through the thick smoke. I guess some prayers are answered. Thank-you.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1602 is a reply to message #1601] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:45 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 4/28/2007 3:52 PM

Thursday, August 24, 11:55 p.m. Tracy Island (9:55 p.m. Australia)

The emergency signal rang through out the Villa and the Cliff House, bringing the team members to the lounge at a run. As the recruits headed up in the elevator to the lower floor of the Cliff House, Dom and Nikki exchanged troubled glances. Dom was back on full duty, and Nikki was due to be released soon, but they both knew this was going to be a difficult rescue. No Thunderbird Seven to house and transport patients, and no Doc to treat the worst of them.

"We'll do, Nikki," Dom murmured to her, shifting his son's sleeping weight in his arms. "We'll do."

Nikki nodded quickly, then the elevator was at its destination and they were running for the lounge. As Dom turned the second corner, there was Lisa, a weary smile on her face, and her arms outstretched.

"I'll take him," she said. "If you're not back within 15 minutes, I'll know you've gone out." Dom nodded and handed his blond burden off, then hurried to join the others.

Jeff was already into briefing mode when Dom walked in. "We'll need the Firefly, Fire Truck, Firetender for this one, with plenty of dicetyline. Take the new dicetyline missiles, too. Scott, Virgil, because this one is so close to home and it won't take you long to get to the Danger Zone, I want you both to come in from different angles. Scott from the northwest, and Virgil from the northeast. We need to keep them guessing as to where we're located."

His glance flicked up toward Dom as the nurse came in, and he nodded imperceptibly. "Dom, you and Nikki are both on this one." He looked over the small crowd, his eyes resting on Callie for a moment longer than the others. "Alan, Callie, Gordon, Brains, you're with Virgil. Elise, Scott may need another pair of hands, so you're with him." He passed a hand through his hair, silently wishing he could have sent his latest recruit out to observe.

She has other, more important things to think about. There was a pause, then he said, "Everyone has their orders; off you go."

Scott and Elise bolted for the entrance to Thunderbird One's hangar, while Virgil headed for his entry way. The others crowded out of the lounge, heading down a flight, taking the steps two at a time in some cases. Once they'd gone, Dianne appeared in the doorway between the study and lounge.

"What are you doing here?" Jeff asked. His tone was irritable and accusatory, and he realized it. He softened his tone. "You should be in bed."

"You think Ah can sleep with thet alarm goin' off?" Dianne asked, her tone as irritable as his had been. "Ah'm gonna stay up and wait for the crew to come back. Ah won't get any sleep while theyah gone."

"No way, lady," Jeff said, coming around his desk and approaching his wife. "You're going back to bed, and that's an order."

Dianne raised one eyebrow as if to ask, "Oh really?" when Scott's voice made Jeff turn around. He let out an exasperated huff, and hurried back to his desk. "Thunderbird One, you are cleared for launch. Thunderbird Two, you may launch in five minutes."

"F-A-B," Scott's voice came over the loudspeaker.

"F-A-B, Boss," Virgil echoed.

Jeff abandoned the desk again and reached his wife when she was halfway across the room. He took her by the arm, steering her back toward the study. "Now, Dianne, you are going back to bed if I have to carry you there," he insisted. "You're on medical leave as far as rescues are concerned and to me, that means the lounge is off-limits... at least at this time of night."

"Jeff, you can stop treatin' me like a child any day now," she said, scowling.

"Dianne, it..." Jeff blew out another frustrated breath. "Listen. The medical equipment for Thunderbird Five...." He paused as Thunderbird One flashed by, its jets lighting up the night sky. "The equipment for Five's sickbay upgrade will be here tomorrow. We'll need you to check it over and make sure we have everything. And if anyone comes back injured... then you'll have to put on your scrubs, leg or no leg. I don't dare allow another open hospital visit, not now." His face softened and he smiled a bit. "You know you won't be your best if you don't get your sleep."

During Jeff's reasoning, Dianne looked away, a stubborn expression on her face. When he was done, she turned back to him and said in a sour tone, "All right. You've made your point. Ah'll go back t' bed."

"Thank you, love," Jeff said with warm relief, giving her a light kiss on the forehead. She gave him an irritated look, and a perfunctory peck on the cheek before she left the study. Jeff waited until she was gone, then locked the door behind her, sighing heavily.

The roar of Thunderbird Two's engines sounded as the cargo carrier took off. Jeff threw himself into his chair.

"Doc is getting antsy, isn't she?" John said.

Jeff glanced up and scowled. "Yes, she is," was his short answer. He turned to the other portraits on the wall. "Thunderbird One from base, what's your ETA?"


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1603 is a reply to message #1602] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:45 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 4/29/2007 7:37 PM

Friday, August 26, 12:20 AM, Tracy Island, (10:20 PM Australia)

John glanced down at his screens. Thunderbird One had already taken off, and he knew Thunderbird Two would follow shortly. I'd better get some details to let Scott know what's going on. He keyed a button and spoke, "This is International Rescue. We're on our way. Can you fill me in so I can tell the rest of my people?"

"Roger that, International Rescue. At the moment, we've got the fire contained here in town. But, it's creeping closer to the rum plant. If she catches..." the man's voice trailed off. John suppressed a shudder as the man continued. "We've lost all contact with our field chopper, too."

John sat up straighter. "How many were on the chopper, and where about did it go down?"

"We had a full crew of six. They were landing to try and stop the fire. A gum tree exploded and we lost all contact. Don't know if any of 'em were able to land. I'll send you the co-ordinates."

"Thanks," John replied. He scanned over the information coming through his computer before forwarding it on. "Maverick, I've sent you the co-ordinates of the chopper crew. The captain hasn't heard a thing since they went down. He told me it was a crew of six that went in, and they have no idea how many actually might be injured. And they're struggling to keep the fire away from the rum plant. It's a mess down there."

"Rum plant? The fire is spreading to an alcohol producing facility?!" Scott nearly shouted. "Why weren't we told this?"

John held up his hands in defense. "Don't shoot the messenger. I thought you knew."

"Terrific," Scott muttered sarcastically. "So, basically we have no real idea what we're getting into at this point?"

"At least until you get there."

There was a short pause. "My ETA is about thirteen minutes. We'll set up Mobile Control and go from there."

"Mav, keep me posted."

"Will do, Quasar. Thunderbird One, out."

John followed Thunderbird One's flight path, then turned his attention to another brother. "Thunderbird Two, Van Gogh, do you copy?"

"FAB, Quasar. What do you have for me?" came Virgil's reply.

John quickly filled him in on the situation, making sure Virgil knew about the factory fire. "Maverick should be there shortly. He'll be setting up Mobile Control then giving you your marching orders."

"I'm sure he will be. I'll guess he sends us to the chopper. We have to get those guys out of there fast."

"I don't disagree with you. But if that plant goes..."

"Yeah, rum prices will go through the roof!" Gordon piped in from the background.

Both John and Virgil rolled their eyes simultaneously. "And on that note, we're out of here. I'll check in when we get to the zone."

"FAB, Van Gogh. Be careful," John warned.

"I always am. Thunderbird Two, out."


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1604 is a reply to message #1603] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:46 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: ArtisticRainey Sent: 5/2/2007 3:59 AM

Friday, August 26th. 10.30pm, Australia (12.30am Tracy Island).

"Holy smoke..."

Scott sighed at the relevance of his words. The fire had been visible almost since he hit land, but now that he was at the danger zone, he was struck by its awesome size in full. This won't be easy. Elise let out a low whistle that told him she felt the same way.

"Thunderbird Five and Base from Thunderbird One."

"Thunderbird Five here, receiving you strength five."

"Base here, go ahead Maverick."


"We've arrived at Danger Zone. I'm going to strafe over the downed chopper and use the dicetyline missiles to put out the periphery of the fire and make things easier for Thunderbird Two, and then return to set up Mobile Control."

"FAB, I'll relay the info to Van Gogh. Thunderbird Five out."

"FAB, Maverick. Keep us posted."


Thunderbird One shot through the air towards the chopper, slicing through the thick smoke. Elise's mouth was set in a straight line. We have to get them out, and fast.

Scott used the sensors to guide them through the blackness. He didn't reduce speed, and his hands flew over the missile guidance controls.

"Target one locked, fire!"

The sleek dicetyline missile struck the fire at the edge of the chopper, and with a mighty roar and an explosion of silver, a charred dent had been made, pushing the fire back from the victims. He repeated this several times until a decent area had been cleared around the chopper.

"Nice work, Maverick."

"Thanks, Frankie."

Thunderbird One swept around in a wide arc, and then flew in high above the flames in search of the fire crew's base. Scott landed the great craft at a safe distance. He thought briefly about security, and glanced at the automatic camera detector. I need someone to guard TB1 as well as having us at Mobile Control...

As his boot hit the ground, one of the firemen came running towards him. The man reached them as Elise hopped down beside Scott.

"International Rescue, we're more than glad to see you." The fireman held out one gloved hand. "Captain Alex Paora, Bundaberg Ladder Seven."

Scott shook the man's hand strongly and briefly, and Elise did the same.

"Glad we can help," he said. "If you'll help me with my equipment and fill us in on the most recent details, we can get started..."

Once mobile control had been set up and Captain Paora had provided a run-down on the situation, Scott opened communications with Thunderbird Two.

"What's your ETA, Van Gogh?"

"Nineteen and one half minutes, Maverick."

"Okay. Once you get here, get straight out to that chopper. I've used the dicetyline to clear a periphery for you guys, but those flames are still going strong. The heat for those guys must be incredible."

"FAB. Will keep you informed. Thunderbird Two out."

Scott caught Elise's eye, and the two shared a confident look. Soon the rest of the crew would arrive, and the rescue could get into full swing.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1605 is a reply to message #1604] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:49 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: TracyFan4Ever Sent: 5/2/2007 6:07 PM

As Thunderbird Two came closer to the danger zone, Callie sat quietly, her mind going over a situation which was new to her. I've never handled any type of firefighting vehicle before. I'm used to being an engineer and a scientist.

Brains noticed and sat next to her. "Are you all right? You seem nervous."

"Sorry, Brains," she answered with a shrug. "Handling a Fire Tender is something new. I don't want to drive it and have an accident."

He patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, Callie. You've had some training with the Fire Tender for the past couple of months."

"I know, but it's the first time I've put it to work in the field. I don't want to mess it up."

"You'll do fine. Think of it as driving a big pick-up truck. Surely you had one of those."

"I did. I received one for my 16th birthday after getting my driver's license."

"See, you've got one advantage already. The Fire Tender also holds two people, so you can concentrate on driving while I launch the dicetylene missiles at areas close enough to the rum plant without damaging it."

With a nod, she smiled. "That's good to know. At least we can take care of that area of the fire while Scott and the others rescue the chopper crew."

Gordon walked up and said, "Yeah. With us battling the fire on two fronts, we'll be able to contain it in no time...at least I hope."

"I know," Brains said. "We'll have to be careful ourselves because one mistake, and the rum plant blows."

"Don't remind me," said Gordon sarcastically. "I don't want to pay $100 for a bottle of rum."

Shaking her head, Callie laughed. "You're absolutely crazy, Gordon."

In the pilot's seat, Virgil turned around. "We'll be approaching danger zone soon."

"I guess that's our cue. Let's get to the Fire Tender," said Callie, her voice with a tint of excitement. However, for her it was a sense of relief that Brains was going with her. I'm glad I'm not going alone. Right now, I don't feel comfortable being by myself anywhere.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1606 is a reply to message #1605] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:49 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: susanmartha Sent: 5/6/2007 3:02 PM

Thursday, August 24, 11:00 p.m. Australia (Friday, August 25, 1:00 a.m. Tracy Island)

Jake Reed checked on Tommy again. The boy, (at 45 Jake considered 18 year old Tom a boy) had been injured in the crash and had been burned before they could get him out. Outside hadn't been much better, but they had to move before the copter fuel tanks blew. They had moved as far away as they could, then crawled into their fire tents -- small survival tents that were part of every fireman's kit during forest or brush fires. They would have been no use if the fuel tank went, but they were all they had and they had put a small ridge between them and the copter.

But something other than the fuel tanks had exploded and white foam had covered his tent. When he moved out of his tent to look, he saw the foam covered everything. He also saw a ship firing a missile then flying off toward the east.

He checked on the rest of his people. Besides Tom, Will had also been critically hurt. Both men were in shock and need help fast. Jenny had broken her arm, but she would be ok. The rest of them were battered and bruised; Jon had a sprained ankle; but they were basically ok.

Jake considered his options. They could improvise a stretcher, but they had two people to carry and Jenny couldn't help carry anyone. Besides, he had no idea which way to go. A signal flare would be useless inside the fire zone. The copter's radio was dead and anyway he wasn't going back to the copter for anything. The fuel tank could still go. He assumed someone would be looking for them and he needed a way to signal where they were.

"Fred, Jon get over here." The two men obediently came over. "How are our patients?"

Jon, as senior medic, replied. "Bad, and getting worse. I think Tommy has internal injuries on top of everything. If he doesn't get help in the next half hour we'll lose him. Will is in better shape but he won't last the night without help."

Jake nodded. "OK, someone sprayed that stuff on us. So someone is probably looking for us. I need a way to let them know where we are."

"A signal fire would be counter productive," Fred commented. "The same for any flares. They'd just get lost in the smoke. What about something shiny? The shelters, maybe?"

"No we have no way of getting the foam off of them or shining them up."

"What about the lining of our jackets?" Jenny had come up behind him so quietly he hadn't noticed. "They're bright red. Tie one of them to the tree up there and it would be noticeable. Or just lay all four of them on the ground."

"We have six jackets," Frank pointed out.

"No, we don't. Tom and Will need theirs." Jake thought for a second. "Alright, let's go for it. Everyone cut out the lining of your jackets. Fred, find a way to tie yours to that tree. Jon, find some good places to tie the other 3 linings. We need them to move in any breeze. The top of the ridge might be best. Stay up there and watch for planes. If you see one, yell for us, then turn on your flashlight and try signaling. I'll relieve you in a bit. Also, keep an eye on the fire. If it looks like it's coming towards us we need to get back in the shelters."

Jake turned toward Jenny. "Jen, you and I get to stay with the two injured. There's not much we can do but someone needs to be there for them. How much water do we have?"

"About a pint." Jen replied.

"It will have to be enough. We'll give it to them if they can drink it. Let's just pray someone finds us soon."
[/color]


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1607 is a reply to message #1606] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:50 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: ArtisticRainey Sent: 5/6/2007 3:25 PM

Dominic watched as Callie, Brains, and Gordon disappeared down to the pod, and then as the Fire Tender and Fire Truck rolled out of the pod, and off to work. He gave them a silent good luck, and sat back in his seat as Virgil prepared to take off for the outback, and to the downed chopper. Alan and Nikki remained in the cockpit, too. Virgil went through the motions of take off procedures, and within minutes they were speeding towards the crash site.

"Boy, it looks bad down there," Alan commented. "I'll be glad for the heat-resistant suit."

"Yeah," Nikki said.

"Speaking of which, you guys had better get suited up. You too, Dom. You'll be based in sickbay but you'll need to go outside to help get the injured prepped and transported up."

Dominic nodded, and the three operatives left the cockpit to don their suits.

"Good luck everyone," Alan said, and held one hand out, palm down.

The nurses both followed his lead, and placed their gloved hands on top of his.

"To another successful rescue," Alan said.

"Amen."

They raised their hands together before giving each other high-fives (prompted by Alan), before Dominic and Nikki headed up to prep the sickroom, and Alan to the Firefly.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1608 is a reply to message #1607] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:52 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: susanmartha Sent: 5/13/2007 7:12 PM

Gordon checked his doors to be sure they were locked. He also checked his gun. Since he was alone in the Fire Truck, he planned on being extra careful. "The paranoid mage dies of old age," he muttered to himself. Reassured, he drove the Fire Truck off of the ramp and out from under Thunderbird 2. "OK, Van Gogh, I'm clear."

"FAB," replied Virgil. "Lowering Thunderbird Two now." Virgil was soon back in the air, heading toward the last known position of the downed helicopter.

Gordon had already called Mobile Control. "Where do you want me, Frankie?"

"I have the Fire Tender going to the rum plant. According to the fire chief, the area about two miles east of you needs help. They are building a firebreak using the road to start and plowing to one side of it to widen the firebreak. They have three trucks already there but they're low on water and the firebreak is nowhere near wide enough. Plus there's a gully running under a bridge at that point. The fire will swing around behind the plant if we don't stop it at the road. You are set up for off-road use, so stop the fire from getting into the gully."

"FAB. Heading out now." Gordon turned right and started off. Ten minutes later he came to the bridge. Two fire trucks on his side were trying to wet down the gully while a third truck was pulling out. Gordon pulled onto the bridge, stopped the truck and hopped out. He approached a knot of people by the end of the bridge. "Hi. They sent me to help. What do you want me to do?"

A tired-looking man in a hard hat answered. "I don't suppose you can just put the fire out, can you?"

"Nope. Sorry. I left my magic wand at home. I was told to help with the gully. Are all your people out of there?"

The man, his hardhat said Ned, motioned someone over. "Everyone out, Frank?"

"We still have two groups below the bridge. I'm already called them back. The fire's just too fast."

Gordon nodded. You could see the flames from here. They looked about a half of a mile away -- no time at all for a fire. "How long until they're out?"

"Not more than five minutes."

"Thanks." Gordon turned back to Ned.

Ned continued. "Do you use water?" At Gordon's head shake, he continued. "Move your truck. We're going to station the trucks on each end of the bridge and have them pump water down into the gully. Hopefully they can pump enough water to stop the flames. I want you on the far side; we can get water for the trucks about a mile down the road on this side."

Gordon headed for the Fire Truck. Behind him he heard Ned snort. "Cocky kid."

"From what I've heard of International Rescue, he has a right to be." Gordon smiled at Frank's reply.

"Let's hope so. We need the help. But fires are tricky." Then the voices were cut off as Gordon closed the door.

He started fiddling with the controls on a panel. "Let's see, Dicetyline variation three. Right. Range, fifty feet out, set the angle, maximum spread..."

A group of men climbed out from under the bridge. The leader of the first group walked over to Ned and Frank as a second group appeared. "It's no use. We couldn't even complete a line across the gully, much less anything of any width."

Ned clamped his hand on the man's shoulder. "You did what you could. Let's just hope we can pump enough water down the side to stop it here." He looked over at the bridge, then frowned. "Why hasn't that idiot moved his fancy machine? I'd better..."

He was cut short by a "Boom" from the Fire Truck as it launched a shell. All 3 men ran over to the bridge to see what had happened.

Starting about twenty five feet from the bridge, white foam covered the ground. It was about 100 feet wide and spread out to cover both sides of the gully up to the place where bulldozers had dug wide firebreaks already. Gordon moved the Fire Truck to the far side of the bridge, climbed out and walked over to the three men.

Frank recovered first. "So what does that stuff do?"

"It's a variation of our firefighting chemical, dicetyline. It will act as a retardant for about two days. Then it should break down with no side effects. I can't guarantee it will stop a fire 100% of the time but it should do as good or better of a job as digging a firebreak the same size would."

"Not 100% huh," Ned commented.

"Nope. 95% was the best we could do. Unless you don't mind some really nasty chemicals sitting on the ground for the next five years." Gordon shrugged. "If something does catch, water won't wash this off until it starts to break down. So you can put any fire out with a regular Fire Truck and water without hurting the firebreak. Or I have some regular dicetyline in my tanks."

Ned's eye's narrowed. "How many more shells of that stuff do you have?"

"Three," was Gordon's quick response. "Plus two regular Dicetyline shells for use where it's already burning."

"Right. We have two more places like this we need to build firebreaks for. One of them may already be burning. And one area that's too steep to do anything with. Get moving." As Gordon headed back to the Fire Truck he heard Ned giving more orders. "Truck 53 is back. I want it stationed here. Frank, get the other two trucks moving. I want them to refill, then start patrolling the road to be sure the fire doesn't jump the break anywhere. John, how tired are your men?" Gordon closed the door and buckled himself in.

"Mobile Control from Fire Truck. One firebreak built. I've been sent down the road to help with others."

"Fire Truck from Mobile Control. The fire has moved into a gully and is about to jump the firebreak. It's about five miles down the same road from you."

"On my way."


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1609 is a reply to message #1608] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:52 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/15/2007 7:51 PM

Elise was sweating, and the fire around her wasn't the only reason why. She was wearing a fire-resistant suit, one that seemed to trap her natural perspiration inside and magnify it ten-fold. The night itself was warm, though dry, and would have been despite the fire. Her hat -- worn since she didn't currently need the suit's hood -- trapped the sweat on her scalp, making her now smoke-scented hair wet and clingy. Finally, there were the keen blue eyes of Scott Tracy boring into the back of her head from behind his visor, evaluating her performance at Mobile Control.

He's the real reason for all this sweat, she groused internally.

The speakers on Mobile Control crackled to life, and Gordon's voice called, "Mobile Control from Fire Truck. One firebreak built. I've been sent down the road to help with others."

Elise waved at the captain, who came over. "We've got one firebreak built at the last coordinates you gave us, and your men have indicated they need help with others. Where do you need us most?"

Captain Paora consulted a data pad he was holding. "I've had reports that the fire is in a gully and about to jump the firebreak we've already built. It's a good five miles from your man's current position, but on the same road."

"Thanks. I'll have him move down that way," Elise said. She tapped her earphone. "Fire Truck from Mobile Control. The fire has moved into a gully and is about to jump the firebreak. It's about five miles down the same road from you."

"On my way."

"F-A-B, Cousteau. Be careful!"

"Always, Frankie. Fire Truck out."

She glanced up at Scott and sighed quietly. "Do fires always work like this? I mean, how much do you know about fires and fighting them? I... I feel like I'm out of my league here, Mav."

"You're doing fine coordinating between our people and their people, Frankie, and that's the main point," Scott told her.

"Still, I feel like..." She threw her hands up a little.

"I know, Frankie. I felt that way at first, too." Scott motioned toward Mobile Control. "Better check on Fire Tender and on Firefly."

"F-A-B." Elise turned toward the unit again. Wish it wasn't so hot!


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1610 is a reply to message #1609] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:54 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 5/15/2007 8:24 PM

Alan maneuvered the Firefly through the thick smoke. He used the blade to push aside more burning trees and other debris, trying to reach the downed helicopter.

"Mobile Control to Firefly."

"Firefly here, go ahead, Frankie."

"Maverick wants to know if you've reached the chopper yet."

Alan rolled his eyes. "That's a negative, Mobile Control. I'm trying to break through all this mess. I'll let you know as soon as I get there."

"FAB, Mobile Control, out."

Alan muttered under his breath and turned back to his task. The fire had burned through a thicker part of the underbrush, making it hard for him to move forward quickly. He zeroed in on a particularly thick knot of burning trees, then fired a dicetyline shell. Upon impact, the shell exploded, sending a thick white foam over the entire area. The flames went out immediately, and Alan pushed forward once again. A few minutes later, he broke through into a clearing. Spying the downed chopper, he moved forward, noting that the fire still burned around the edges of his sight.

"Firefly to Mobile Control, I found the chopper." He zoomed in on the area. "No sign of any movement."

"FAB, Indy," Elise replied.

"Van Gogh, can you pick up anything?"

"Negative, Indy, there's too much interference from the fire. The sensors can't distinguish between heat signatures," Virgil told him.

"Damn..." Alan drove closer. "What about--"

BOOM!

"What the hell was that?! Indy, can you read me?" Virgil called out.

There was no answer.

"Thunderbird Two to Mobile Control, we have a situation."

"Copy that Thunderbird Two, what's going on?"
Scott's voice cut in as he activated his own radio.

"I'm not sure, Mav, I was talking to Indy when we lost contact."

"Indy, this is Maverick, where are you?...INDY!"


"I...I'm OK." Alan shook his head to try and clear the ringing in his ears. "What happened?"

"We were going to ask you that. Are you all right?" Scott asked, ignoring the dirty look he just knew Elise was sending him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Alan ran a quick diagnostic. "Looks like the fuel tanks on the chopper blew." As the smoke cleared, he looked through the viewscreen to see the charred remains of the helicopter. "Well, I think I can safely say that's one piece of equipment that's unsalvageable. No sign of bodies though, they must be around here somewhere." He started the Firefly again and moved past the chopper. "I'm heading north."

"Be careful," Scott intoned.

"I will." Alan shook his head again, trying to stop the buzzing in his head. Suddenly, something caught his eye. He stopped and stared at the place until he saw it again. Alan broke into a grin. "Got them!" He gunned the Firefly's engine, progressing through the clearing until he reached a small hill. He activated the loud speaker, "This is International Rescue!"

The man on top of the hill waved frantically, nodding that he heard. He beckoned Alan towards him, then disappeared. Alan parked the Firefly, then adjusting his helmet, stepped outside. He jogged after the man, coming to a stop at the top of the rise. A short distance away, he spied the bright yellow of a tent, with a group of people waving in his direction. Alan quickly jogged down to them. "Hi there, I'm with International Rescue."

An older man stepped forward and held out his hand. "G'day, mate, are we glad to see you! I'm Jake Reed."

"Glad to help. Call me Indy." Alan glanced around. "Is this everyone?"

Jake shook his head. "We've got two criticals in the tent. Burns and internal injuries. Another has minor injuries, broken arm."

Alan grimaced. "OK then, let me call my back up and we'll get you guys out of here in no time. Indy to Thunderbird Two."

"Go ahead, Indy," Virgil answered.

"I've found the chopper crew; they have injured and need to be evacuated at once."

"FAB, on my way."

Alan turned back to Jake. "My colleague is on his way; let's get everyone ready."

When Thunderbird Two came into view a few minutes later, the crew looked up in surprise. "Crikey, she's a big 'un," one of the men muttered.

Alan grinned and watched as the rescue platform lowered. He spied Nikki at the controls and made his way over to her. "Angel, we have two criticals inside the tent. The medic says internal injuries and burns. We also have one broken arm; the others seem unharmed."

Nikki nodded. "FAB, let's get the injured out first." She hopped down from the platform and together with Alan and the other medics, managed to get the two injured firefighters onboard the platform. They ascended up into Thunderbird Two and a few minutes later, the platform lowered again and the rest of the crew climbed up. Nikki activated the controls and the platform rose upwards again. To Alan's surprise, Nikki stayed on the ground.

"Angel?" he questioned.

"Tynan has things under control up there; in fact, with the paramedics he has more than enough help. Van Gogh sent me back to help you with the Firefly."

Alan smiled. "Great, let's get moving." Together they made their way back to the vehicle. "Firefly to Mobile Control," Alan called out as he pulled off his helmet.

"Go ahead, Firefly," Elise answered.

He glanced up as Thunderbird Two blasted off. "The injured have been evacuated. Angel and I are going to tackle the rest of this fire."

"FAB, Firefly. Be careful and keep me posted."

"Will do." Alan turned to Nikki. "All set?"

She shook her head. "We're not moving until I take a look at you." She leaned forward and shone a light into his eyes. "Pupils are active and responsive; are you having a ringing in your ears?"

Alan nodded. "A little, but nothing like before."

Nikki frowned thoughtfully. "I don't see any signs of concussion. But I want you looked at again when we get back to base."

"FAB," Alan replied. "Now, let's get this over with; I want to get home in time for breakfast!"


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1611 is a reply to message #1610] Fri, 27 July 2012 15:55 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2007 11:26 AM

Frank rinsed out his coffee thermos with a bit of water from the communal water jug. I hope this will keep the stuff until I can get it to my professors, he thought. He glanced around to see that no one was watching him, then he loped over to the latest dicetyline firebreak that Gordon had created. Using a clean plastic spoon, he scooped some of the greenish foam into the thermos. Just this little bit won't be missed.

He had just screwed the air tight top onto the container when he heard Ned call, "Hey, Frank! We're moving out to another spot!"

Frank rose hastily. "Coming!"

As he joined the older man, Ned said, "Fascinated by that di... dice... whatever they call it?"

"Yeah." Frank nodded. "If only we had some to use ourselves. It'd save a lot of lives and property."

"I know," Ned said. "But only if it works as well as that bloke said it does. And I'll believe that when I see it!" He clapped Frank on the shoulder. "C'mon, mate. Let's move out."

Frank smiled wearily, and climbed aboard the truck, tucking the thermos into a safe nook for later retrieval.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1612 is a reply to message #1611] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:01 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: TracyFan4Ever Sent: 5/17/2007 2:44 PM

Callie drove the Fire Tender in the dangerous heat of the fire. Whew, it's hot...just like in the jungle. No, this is a different rescue and a different location. And I'm not alone this time, either. "How's it going, Brains?" she asked.

"We're ahead of the fire now, and about 10 miles from the rum plant. Keep going for another three miles and we'll stop there."

"I assume we're making a fire break before it can reach the plant."

"Correct, Callie," he said while adjusting his glasses. "Hopefully with the three dicetyline missiles, we can stop this fire from getting that far." Looking at the GPS monitor, she saw that they had reached their destination. "Okay, we can stop right here."

Applying the brakes, she brought the vehicle to a complete stop. "There's so much dry brush around here. Alabama's got nothing on this area."

"All right. Now I'll need your help for this part."

She shifted over and said, "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"Get ready to work your nozzle. We're going to create a dicetyline fire break, mine on the left, yours on the right.

"Sounds good to me." Taking the controls, she started calculating where to fire the stream. Okay, I need to go over about two degrees. I need to make sure the fire break's in the best possible position. When the nozzle locked into the proper position, she said, "Activating nozzle now." Watching the dicetyline launch into the area just ahead of the perimeter, her mind went back to the time she was with the World Space Agency. Man, I can't believe I was trying to understand dicetyline only a few months ago.

Just then, they heard another voice. "Fire Tender from Mobile Control," said Elise through the radio. "Need a status report, please."

"It's looking good so far, Frankie," said Callie. "Einstein and I have launched two streams of dicetyline at the perimeter of the fire seven miles from the rum plant. I think we'll be able to make the fire break hold up, at least I hope."

"Well, maybe this will help. The chopper crew's been rescued, but just in time. Now it's your turn. If the alcohol and molasses explode--"

"F-A-B, Frankie," said Brains. "We'll make sure that doesn't happen."

For Callie, being on a rescue mission at all brought a sense of calm. She focused so much on the job she had no trouble casting the Hood from her mind. This is great! I've got such a rush right now. If this works, I won't have to hear Gordon ranting about rising rum prices. She smiled to herself as she noticed the results of the dicetyline. "Looks like the break's holding up," she said.

Brains nodded. "You're right. The fire's not advancing in the line over here, either." He then contacted Elise. "The fire break here's working well. We'll give it another few minutes, Frankie. If it breaks before then, we'll let you know."

"F-A-B, Einstein. Good luck."

They looked carefully for the next several minutes, but the fire was unable to advance past the dicetyline line. "Mobile Control from Fire Tender," said Callie. "Fire break successful. The fire will not reach the rum plant."

"Good work, both of you. The other fire breaks are holding up, so I think we've completed the mission. I'll contact base for stand-down."

"F-A-B," said Brains. He looked at Callie, who had a relieved smile on her face. "You seem satisfied."

"Yeah, I am. At least Gordon will be happy to know rum hasn't been completely lost yet."

"That's good," Brains said with a chuckle. "I'll contact Thunderbird Two to have Virgil come pick us up."

As Brains radioed him, she sat back in the chair and just relaxed. Boy, that felt really good. When we get home, I'm going to see if I can find a romance novel in the library.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1615 is a reply to message #1612] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:04 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2007 5:19 PM

Friday, August 25, 2068, 1:30 a.m., Tracy Island (11:30 p.m., previous day, Australia)

"It's no use." Dianne sat up, throwing aside her covers. She rubbed the fingers of both hands over her forehead. "Ah can't sleep."

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she pushed herself to her feet, leaning on the bed for support as she edged around to the closet, where her favorite bathrobe lay. She sat on the edge of the chair to put it on; she slipped her feet into leather moccasins, then stood carefully and tied the robe's sash. She found her cane and headed out of the master suite.

On reaching the study, she tried the door again, muttering under her breath. "Still locked." She reached into the pocket of her robe, but there was nothing there. "Damn. Forgot mah key." With an irritated sniff, she turned and headed back to her suite.

Picking up the remote, she began surfing the televid channels, looking for something to occupy her long enough to make her drowsy. The household had satellite feed, which meant dozens of channels to choose from, quite a few of them in languages other than English. She put her legs up on the spacious ottoman, staring at the screen as the shows flickered past, each lasting a second or two before she advanced to the next one. Finally, she resorted to doing a subject search, and input the words "ice skating" into the search bracket. The televid did a quick flash of images, and finally rested on a show where a perky young teen glided across the ice. Dianne frowned as she heard the commentary. "What's that in? Russian?" She muted the sound as low as she dared without losing the background music, and settled back to watch.

The girl finished her routine, took her bows, and exited to the kiss and cry area to wait for her marks. The results came up... in Cyrillic. Dianne sighed and shook her head.

The program kept her busy for a half hour or so, then she changed the channel again. This time, it was a news report on the fire in Australia that caught her eye.

"...Breaking news. We have heard from official sources that the firefighters whose helicopter went down have been rescued and that Thunderbird Two is airlifting them to a local hospital. The name of the hospital is being withheld for security reasons, but the families of the firefighters will be notified as soon as possible." The commentary was accompanied by video of the fire from above.

Dianne looked carefully but couldn't find any sign of the Thunderbirds. "Least somethin's goin' right t'night," she drawled, folding her arms.

"Tell me, Julie," the anchor said to the on-site reporter. "What can you tell us about this foam that International Rescue is using?"

"Well, Brent, from what I've heard, the stuff is really amazing," Julie said. She was outside, the wind blowing through her hair and the fire burning in the distance. "It seems to smother the fire instantly. There had been some danger to the nearby rum plant from the spreading fire, but International Rescue's speedy response -- and their fabulous foam -- made quick work of that."

"We've heard of this foam before." The scene went back to the anchor room, where a bulky, balding man sat next to the young anchor. His name appeared near the bottom of the screen: Dr. Daniel Eberhart, PhD. "If you'll recall, a NASA spokesman recently revealed that the foam they used at Cape Canaveral mixed with some fuel to create a super fertilizer. There's no telling what it will do when mixed with the materials found in the outback."

"So you believe it could be a hazard to the environment, Doctor?" Brent asked, his face serious.

"It could be. We won't know until we see the results of its usage during this particular fire."

"Pffft!" Dianne sputtered, waving a hand. "What d'you know? Yoah just an ol' Fud!"

"Julie, any sign of Thunderbird Seven or of its operatives?" Brent asked.

"No sign of Thunderbird Seven reported, Brent," the correspondent replied, "but we have heard rumors that at least one medic accompanied the rescue crew today. Whether or not this was one of those involved in the tornado disaster..."

Dianne abruptly turned off the televid, and sat silent with the remote in her hands. Then she put it aside, and reached for her cane, sighing.

"Ah might as well do this now an' get it ovah with," she said. "Ah need t' do this by mahself an' foah mahself. A final step in healin'." She hauled herself to her feet, and limped back into her bedroom.

Need something a bit warmer down below, she reasoned as she shrugged out of her favorite robe and into something thicker. She hesitated, wondering if she should tell her husband where she was going, but shook her head. I won't be long, she said to herself as she left the suite.

She took the lift downstairs, and proceeded quietly through the silent hall. She thought very briefly of waking her mother, but pushed the thought away just as quickly. She's tired and I have to do this myself.

Dianne waited for the elevator car, leaning against the wall, giving her still stiff leg a rest. She leaned in the corner of the car all the way down, and sat in the monorail as it took her to the lab. The light was green next to the lab door, and it opened to her easily, the lights coming on as she stepped within.

For a long while she stood at the door to the pod vehicle repair bay, then she licked her dry lips, reached out to turn on the lights, and opened the door. Stepping through, she stood at the metal landing looking down at the parts of Thunderbird Seven.
Didn't realize it was so scratched up, she thought as she descended the stair, keeping her eyes on the large medical section. Needs a good cleaning, and a new paint job.

Slowly she made her way to the back of the medical cabin. There was a gaping hole there now where the dent used to be. The back corner, back door, and the entire morgue section had been removed, and she could see into the storage lockers and part of the surgical suite. A panel, the one with the biggest dent in it, lay to one side propped up against the wall. She crouched uncomfortably and reached out to smooth a hand across the dent, but stopped before she touched it. A flash of memory; a vision of the medical cabin filling the view screen, the sudden, heart-stopping horror of realization, all came back to her in a rushing flood of sight, sound, and emotion. She closed her eyes convulsively, and drew her hand back with a gasp. So forceful was the withdrawal that she fell on her rump, barely catching herself from falling full length by a flailing hand. She sat there on the cold concrete for a long while, staring at the panel, until finally, she rolled onto her side and began the awkward process of regaining her feet.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Dianne rubbed her upper arms, the action providing a warmth that was more emotionally than physically soothing. Leaning on her cane more than before, she circled the back of the medical unit to the side. The ramp was down, and the side doors were opened, but it was dark inside. She stood at the base of the ramp, looking up into the darkness, but made no move to enter it. Finally, she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned from the doors. To her left, she noticed a pile of salvaged materials: the bare diagnostic beds, which were stacked neatly in three piles, two of four, and one of five. The surgical bed was there, too, in large, unwieldy pieces, its overhead screen covered in plastic and lying beside the bed itself. Guess they think they can reuse them... if they rebuild this. She smoothed a hand over one of the beds, noticing a light accumulation of dust that gathered on the edges of her hand. So much else to do that's more important, especially since Kat's away.

Dusting her hand off by clapping it against the other, she finally turned to the cockpit. Slowly, she approached it, noticing the wavy lines where the door had been cut.

Dom, giving her a grim smile as he covered her leg and donned the protective visor and gloves, picking up the cutter's nozzle... the trembling of her own limbs as he began to cut... the faint smell of oxyhydnite in the air, growing stronger as Gordon cut through the door...

She circled slowly around to the front, and stood staring up at it. The engine was exposed and covered in plastic, the hood and front of the chassis were nowhere to be seen. The windshield was cracked, and dirty, and marred further by a sizable, angular hole.

The... whatever-it-was... smashing up against the windshield, shattering to pieces against the polyhexane and sliding away... the dizzying view as the cockpit tumbled over and over... the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach as they rolled, helpless, tossed about like an empty paper cup in the wind... Nikki's scream of horror as the medical cabin came straight for them...

Dianne gasped, almost a sob, and shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself again. Then she took a deep breath, and walked back to the open rectangle that had once been a door.

She bit her lower lip as she came close, gazing up into the semi-darkness of the cockpit. Gotta go inside.

She leaned her cane on the scraped metal of the cockpit's side. Reaching a hand up inside the door -- the outer hand holds had been sheared off -- she began to pull herself into the cockpit. One rung, then another, she got her right knee onto the control cabin's floor. Using it to lever herself further inside, she glanced upward... and stopped. On the ceiling, illuminated by the light of the repair bay, was a dark spot, one that had little streaks of dusky color running from it, forever staining the ceiling. She collapsed to one side, ending up sitting half in and half out of the door, back leaning up against the cut, her damaged leg dangling out. Her moccasin dropped to the floor.

She swallowed heavily, and breathed deeply. The sudden, acrid, metallic smell of the cockpit filled her nostrils, and abruptly she was upside down again. Her unseeing eyes focused on the dark spot; she wrapped her arms around her abdomen. Her breath began to hitch.

Oh, God, it hurts... it hurts... make it stop! I can't breathe! Help me! I can't breathe! Dom! Nikki! Where are you?! I can't breathe! My leg! It's bleeding... make it stop! It hurts! Help me! I can't... I can't move! Pain! Oh, God! Get me out of here! Scared... so scared! I can't breathe! Please, get me out of here! It hurts!...

Seeing Seven, part 1



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1617 is a reply to message #1615] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:05 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2007 5:42 PM

Friday, August 25, 2068, 3:17 a.m., Tracy Island

"Oh, man," Callie moaned as she got up from her seat in Thunderbird Two and stretched. "All I want is a shower and my bed."

"I'll second the shower," Nikki said. She yawned widely. "What time is it here, anyhow?"

Virgil glanced at the chronometer on Thunderbird Two's control panel. "Three seventeen a.m.," he said. "Let's get the pod vehicles cleared out before we go up for debriefing."

The thought of debriefing made the others groan, but Brains merely said, "Right. I'll want to run a diagnostic on the Firefly later since it got banged around out there."

"Then we might as well drive it up to the repair bay now," Alan said. "I'll take care of that."

Thunderbird Two lifted smoothly off the hangar floor, leaving behind the pod. Virgil opened it from the inside, and there was the roar of engines as the fire fighting vehicles prepared to roll out. Alan was first, and made a left hand turn toward the smaller aircraft hangars and the access ramp to the repair bay. He frowned as he noticed something out of place.

"Hey, Brains?"

Brains tapped his hands-free communicator. "Yes, Alan?"

"Did you leave the lights on in the repair bay?"

The engineer's eyes widened, and he hurried from the pod to see what Alan was talking about. Sure enough, there was a glow emanating from the access ramp. "Alan! Stop for a moment and let me catch up to you. I know I turned off the lights before I left the lab for the evening."

"Okay, Brains." The Firefly came to a grinding halt and Brains ran to it, making a mental note of the noise it had made. He climbed aboard, accepting a hand up from Alan at the last bit. Once he was settled in the copilot's seat, Alan released the brake, and the Firefly rolled on.

"I can't understand it," Brains said, a puzzled frown on his face. "I know I turned the lights off."

"Maybe Dad needed to come down for something and forgot to put the lights out," Alan suggested as they chugged up the inclined pathway.

Brains shot Alan a disbelieving look. "Do you think that's something your father would do?"

Alan thought for a minute, then said, "Uh, no. Not really."
They lapsed into silence as they came to the top of the ramp and to the flat, wide area where the engineering and repair crew worked on the pod vehicles. Alan expertly pulled the Firefly in beside Thunderbird Seven.

"Alan!" Brains cried, as he glanced out the window. "It's Dianne!"

"What the hell is she doing down here?" Alan muttered as he secured Firefly. Brains had started climbing out before Firefly had come to a stop. He tapped his communicator. "Father?"

In the lounge, Jeff frowned, and glanced at Scott, who had arrived home fifteen minutes before Virgil. They were no longer on open communication with John; Jeff had temporarily dismissed the space monitor so they both could prepare for the debriefing. Elise had a cup of coffee in her hand, provided by Kyrano, who had been up preparing a snack and providing Jeff with coffee since shortly after the rescue started.

"Alan...," Scott began, tapping his own communicator.

"Father," Alan said again, using the title succinctly. "Dianne is down here in the vehicle repair bay, and something's wrong."

Jeff's eyes widened in concerned confusion. "What's she doing there?"

"I have no idea, Dad." Alan climbed out of Firefly, grabbing the vehicle's medikit as he did so. "She's sitting in the cockpit of Seven. She's... I don't know. There's just something wrong."

"I'm on my way," Jeff said. He headed for the study, and called over his shoulder, "Start the debriefing without me if you have to. And wake Mother and Lisa; we may need them both."

"Yes, sir," Scott said.

Meanwhile, in the repair bay, Brains approached Dianne gingerly, quietly calling, "Dianne? Dianne? Can you hear me?"

Somewhere, far away, someone was whispering her name...

He was concerned because she was wheezing; she was breathing as if it were hard to do so. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her abdomen, and she was staring at some point that he couldn't make out from his position on the floor.

"Brains?" Alan joined him, looking up at his stepmother with concern. "Dad's on his way. What can we do?"

Brains had moved to see if he could see what Dianne was looking at. "I'm at a loss, Alan. She's obviously not exactly with us, but I'm not sure how to bring her back to the here and now." He stood on tiptoes, peering up and around. "I think I see what she's looking at, that dark spot on the ceiling... the bloodstain."

Someone was outside somewhere, talking softly. Who's there? Help me, please! I can't breathe! My leg! Who's there? Dom? Help me, Nikki!

"Maybe if we knew what happened during the whole thing we could bring her out of it," Alan suggested as he put the medikit down and began to rummage around in it. "Or maybe a sedative? Knock her out and pull her down from there?"

"A sedative would work to get her out, yes, but at what price? This is something she's got to work through..." Brains climbed up and reached for her neck, taking her pulse. "She's cold. Is there a blanket in the kit?"

"Yeah, here it is." Alan pulled out the shiny Penelon blanket, and was about to hand it to Brains when the door from the lab slammed open and Jeff barreled through. He took the stairs down two at a time, and vaulted over the railing when he got halfway down. He was followed by a dressing gown clad Lisa, who bustled after him at a less explosive pace.

Jeff skidded around the far end of the medical cabin and ran up to the cockpit, slowing only as he got near. Alan had handed the blanket off to Brains by this time, and the scientist was trying to tuck it in around her.

More voices were murmuring around her. Is that you, Dom? Please help! Get me down from here! I can't move! I can't breathe! Lean the chair back! My leg -- cut it free!

"What's the situation?" he asked, slightly breathless.

"She hasn't responded to us," Brains replied. "She's cold; she's been overbreathing; her pulse is up."

"Damn," Lisa said, coming up behind Jeff. "Why'd she go an' do this? Ah meant t' come with her when she wanted to come. Give her someone t' lean on."

"I don't know why she chose to do this now, but I'm sure she had a reason," Jeff said. "Once we get her out of there, we can ask. Right now, let's concentrate on first things first." He walked up and gently touched her dangling leg, rubbing the knee, then the calf. "Di, honey? Come on back, love. Come on back to us."

She could feel a bare touch on her leg. That's it, Dom! Cut it free! You have to cut it free! I can't move! I can't breathe! Nikki! Help me!

"Brains, let me get up past you."

Brains obligingly slid down to the concrete floor as Jeff took his position, facing Dianne. "Come on, love," he cooed, putting a hand on either side of her face, trying to turn it gently away from the stain. "Look at me, dear heart."

Someone was there, touching her face. Who's there? Nikki? Is that you? Get me out of here! I'm so cold! I'm so scared! Please, get me down!

Her neck was stiff, and he didn't want to force her to turn her head. Instead, he moved over so his body was directly in her line of sight, keeping his hands cupped to her face. "Dianne! Look at me. It's Jeff. Come on, love; look at me!"

Someone now stood between her and the dark. Scott? Is that you? Have you come to get me out? Gordon? Are you cutting the door? Scott? Get me down from here. Please. That's it, Gordon, cut the door. Dom, cut the metal... yes! Get me out of here!

She began to blink, once, twice, and her head moved downwards, enough to break her vision's lock on the ceiling. Her wheezing began to ease. "That's it, love," Jeff called in encouragement. She's not seeing me, not yet, but at least she's not looking at that damned spot anymore! "Come on, love; that's it. It's over now."

She looked up at him, her eyes still unfocused, her voice confused. "S-S-Scott? Scott? You've come to t-take me out... thank God! You've come to g-get me down... I...I can breathe... now."

"You're safe, love; it's all over," Jeff murmured again and again. He pulled her as close as he could, and kissed her on the forehead.

At last she squeezed her eyes closed tight and whimpered a little. She raised her face to him, and opened her eyes, half-lidded. "J-Jeff?"

"There you are," he murmured.

She started to glance to her right again, and Jeff intervened. "No, look that way. Your mother's here; she's worried about you."

"Di, sweetie." Lisa stood on the bottom rung, reaching up to rub a hand across Dianne's arm. "C'mon out o' theah, honey. C'mon out." Dianne nodded, and Lisa took the Penelon blanket away, then stepped down and back a little. "Alan, give her some help, please."

"Sure, Grandma." Both Alan and Brains stepped forward. Brains offered a hand, while Alan reached up with both hands to steady her. Jeff helped her turn slowly. She put a foot down on the top rung, and reached down with a hand to Alan... then slipped and fell with a little cry.

"Oof!" Alan staggered under her sudden weight, but he didn't fall. "Gotcha, Mom."

"S-Sorry 'bout that. M'legs are numb," she murmured.

Jeff dropped down behind her as Alan helped steady her and set her on her feet. Lisa came up with her lost moccasin and helped her put it on.

"C'mon, love," Jeff said, wrapping the Penelon blanket around her shoulders. "Let's get you upstairs." He leaned over as it to pick her up, but she shook her head.

"Don', Jeff. Ah c'n walk."

Jeff and Lisa exchanged glances, and Lisa shook her head slightly. Jeff sighed; he took Dianne's arm, draping it over his shoulder and putting a firm arm around her waist. "Alan, head on up to the dining room and see if Scott's started the debriefing. If not, tell him to start."

"On my way, Dad," Alan said. He hurried off up the stairs and disappeared into the lab.

"Brains, will you come up to the sick room and give Dianne a once over?"

"Yes, sir," Brains said. "I'll go prepare the sick room now. Will you want one of the nurses to help?"

"Em is getting the sickroom ready," Lisa said as she picked up Dianne's cane.

"It's up to you if you want to call one of the nurses." Jeff started toward the staircase, walking slowly, matching Dianne's shuffling gait. She leaned on him heavily as they took the stairs one at a time. Lisa followed, her eyes widening as she saw the sharp slits in the back of Dianne's thick robe.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1618 is a reply to message #1617] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:06 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 5/18/2007 3:27 PM

Friday, August 24, 9:30 AM; Silver Spring Maryland (1:30 AM August 25 on Tracy Island)

"Mrs. Matumbo, your shoulder is healing very well. How has it felt? Do you need any more pain medication?"

"No, tank you, Doctor Bennett. I haven't needed to take any for de last few days."

He checked her eyes. "Any headaches?"

"Not since my last visit to you."

"Any blurring of your vision? Any confusion?"

"No, notting like dat. Everyting seems to be normal, like it was before de crash."

Doctor Bennett put away his instruments. "Well, everything looks good. We won't need to keep your arm so immobile, so I'll put it in a sling. I want you to keep it there as much as possible. And I think that you are able to be on your own again. So you may go back to your home."

Lena sighed in relief. "Tank you. I've been very comfortable wit my son and daughter-in-law, but I've been looking forward to being in my own home again."

"There are conditions, however."

"Which are?"

"No driving more than short distances -- five miles round trip. No heavy lifting. You can't go back to work yet, and any work you do at home must be limited to no longer than two hours at a time. And you must relax for at least three hours between times. I'll want to see you in a week."

Lena looked at the doctor, who gazed back at her unrelentingly. "Okay, I agree to dose terms," she said finally. "I can live wit dem for a week or so."

"Good. Now I'll let you get dressed. I'll see you again soon." He left the room.

Ten minutes later Lena and Amelia left the office and were on the way back to College Park. Amelia said, "Are you sure you're ready to go home now, Lena? You know we've enjoyed having you stay with us, and want you to remain as long as you need to -- or want to."

"Yes, I'm sure, Amelia. I've loved being wit you and Mattew, but I would feel more comfortable in my own home. I promised de doctor I wouldn't do too much, and I intend to keep my word. But I do look forward to being in my own bed."

"Okay. Then we'll get your things packed, and I'll take you home, stopping at a supermarket on the way. I know there's some foodstuffs you'll be needing."

"Dat's true. And tank you, Amelia. You've been a wonderful hostess. I know I haven't been de best of guests, and I'm sorry."

"No apologies necessary. If it had been me in your situation, I'd probably have behaved far worse. You weren't much trouble at all. I only wish I could have done more for you."

Lena smiled. "I know, honey. And I appreciate it more dan I can say. But I need to be in my own place."

"I suppose I can understand that. So let's get you moved back home. And I'd better call Matthew when we get to our home, and let him know. He'll probably object, you know. He's good at that."

"As a trial lawyer, he'd better be," Lena replied with a chuckle. "But if he gives you a hard time, just pass de phone to me. I'll handle him."

Amelia just laughed, as they continued into College Park.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1620 is a reply to message #1618] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:09 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: MagicMaster8 Sent: 5/19/2007 5:14 PM

Friday, August 24, 9 AM; San Diego (Saturday, August 25, 4 AM on Tracy Island)

Brandon had awakened earlier in a good mood. His parents were together again, after having been moved to a convalescent home. Three contractors had come in and given him estimates for renovations. After much consideration, Brandon had made his choice. (Shannon had said, "You make the call, bro. I'm not good at this sort of thing.")

He'd notified the contractor, who'd assured him that the job would be done in a timely fashion. Then he'd told his sister. She'd exclaimed, "That's terrific! Let's go out to dinner to celebrate."

"Good idea. Where should we go?"

There had been a brief pause, then they'd looked at each other and said at the same time, "Anthony's!"

That evening, they'd left home for some good food and fun. They'd enjoyed themselves and had returned home feeling more relaxed.

He sat at the table sipping his coffee. This is the first time since I've been home, that I haven't felt like I need to be doing something. An idea began forming in his mind, and he mulled it over. He went to the phone and dialed. After three rings, there was an answer.

"My name is Brandon McCain. I'd like to make an appointment to go skydiving this afternoon."
[/color]

With thanks to hobbeth for help with some of the wording.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1626 is a reply to message #1620] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:13 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 5/19/2007 6:01 PM

August 24th, 10:30 AM, Boulder, Colorado, (4:30 AM August 25th, Tracy Island)

Luke looked around the apartment and sighed. Barry had taken all of his belongings which included most of the art work, leaving the place rather barren looking. Luke had most of the furniture and his books, but the majority of his things had been packed. He marked the box in front of him and stood up, stretching. Rommel looked up from his place on the couch and gave a short 'woof'.

"Hello to you, too." Luke grinned at his dog. "So, mutt, what should we do today? Go for a hike, do some fishing, how about..." The ring of his cell phone interrupted him. "Hold that thought." Luke fished the phone out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Morel!"

"Hey, Irwin! What's up?" Luke shoved Rommel over and sat down on the couch.

"Just what kind of hornet's nest have you stirred up?"

Luke laughed. "I'm guessing Derek got my resignation letter."

"Yeah, you could say that. He went ballistic. He's actually going to have to work now." There was a pause. "So, you're really leaving us?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm all packed up here. Hoping to get on the road within the next couple of days." Which reminds me, I should call Mr. Tracy, Luke thought to himself.

Irwin let out a breath in a huff. "Well then, we need to make this a proper good-bye. How about we all meet at Bucky's around eight tomorrow?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "Irv, you know I hate--"

"Too bad, buddy boy, you're not skipping town without me buying you a Coors," Irwin replied.

"Fine, only make it a Guinness or I don't go. See you then." Luke hung up and turned to Rommel. "I suppose I'd better make that call to Tracy Island." He glanced up at the clock and tried to figure out the time difference. "Yeah right," he muttered and grabbed his laptop. A few moments later he had the page up and shook his head. "Four in the morning...tomorrow?? I'll never get used to that." He paused as the news flashed across the screen.

"International Rescue mops up fire in OZ."

"What the..." Luke pulled up the story.

"Earlier today, International Rescue offered its assistance to an out of control cane fire, outside of Bundaberg, Queensland. They volunteered when a rescue helicopter went down while trying to stem the fire's movements. They also aided in preventing the fire from spreading to a local rum distillery, saving countless lives.

"In addition, local authorities are investigating the substance International Rescue used to douse the flames. There is some concern of its impact on the eco-system."


Luke shut the computer in disgust. "As if they'd use something harmful; give me a break." He pulled a business card out of his wallet and stared at it a few moments before dialing the number. It rang a few times before connecting to voice mail. Luke took a deep breath. "Mr. Tracy, it's Luke Morel. I'd like to talk to you about accepting your offer."


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1627 is a reply to message #1626] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:14 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 5/19/2007 8:09 PM

August 24, 1:30 PM; Silver Spring, Md. (5:30 AM Aug. 25 on Tracy Island)

Amelia pulled into the driveway of Lena's home and they both got out of the car. While her daughter-in-law got her bag out of the trunk, Lena unlocked the door and went inside to disarm the alarm. Then she returned to hold the screen door open.

"Are you sure I can't help carry something in, Amelia? I'm not dat incapacitated, you know."

"Lena, you heard what the doctor said as well as I did. No heavy lifting for another week."

"My bag isn't dat heavy. Neiter are de grocery bags," Lena replied, somewhat frustrated.

Amelia relented a little. "Well, okay. There are a couple of bags that shouldn't strain your shoulder, especially if you leave your left arm in the sling and bring those bags in one at a time. Come on."

Together the two women got the groceries inside and put away quickly. "How about staying for some lunch?"

"Lena, why do you think I bought that pasta salad we both like so much?" was the laughing reply.

Chuckling, Lena and Amelia quickly set out the necessary items. Adding rolls and iced tea ("Good ting tea doesn't spoil," the older woman remarked with a grin), and sat down to feast. "Lena, are you sure you're ready to be on your own again? I know the doctor said you could if you took it easy, but I worry about you. And you know you're welcome to stay with us as long as you want to."

"Amelia, we've been over dis. Like I said before, you've been wonderful to me while I stayed wit you and Mattew, but dis is my home. As much as I enjoyed being wit you two, I'm more comfortable here. I promise not to overexert myself, and if I need any heavy lifting, or work done, I'll call your husband, or Tom."

"As long as it isn't something that needs repairing," Amelia said with a laugh. "Handy isn't one of the words I'd use to describe my husband."

Lena chuckled. "He takes after his fadder dat way. Mark couldn't tell one end of a hammer from de otter."

They soon finished up the salad and rolls, then Amelia helped her mother-in-law unpack and get settled. Finally she said she had to leave. "But I'll call to check on you from time to time, and so will Matthew, I'm sure."

"Ah, wit all my family living fairly close by, I'm sure I'll be hearing from you all at least once a week each. Now don't worry. I'll enjoy your calls, but I promise to be good and follow de doctor's orders."

"Okay, Lena. I'll try not to be too anxious." Amelia kissed her, then got into her car. She pulled out of the driveway and, waving, headed down the road.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1628 is a reply to message #1627] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:15 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/19/2007 8:15 PM

Saturday, August 25, 2068, 9:15 a.m., Tracy Island

Jeff reached over to hit the alarm clock, his hand flailing before making contact. He groaned and rolled over, toying with the idea of sleeping later. After all, between dealing with Dianne and the end of the debriefing, it had been five a.m. before his head hit the pillow.

The thought of his wife made him open his eyes. She was lying on her side, facing away from him, and her back was clearly visible. Two thin, angry red lines scored her back, but they weren't deep, just scratches that looked worse than they actually were. "They'd be deeper if she hadn't been wearing such a thick robe," Brains had said as he examined them.

He'd wanted to talk to Dianne, ask her just why she'd decided to go down to Seven when she did, find out what had happened to put her in such a state, but she'd been so obviously exhausted that he decided to postpone his questions. Brains had checked to see that Dianne's blood oxygen levels were satisfactory and her pulse had eased back down to normal. He'd suggested that she spend the night in the sick room, but she'd balked at that. "Ah'm not sick anymore. Ah'll sleep in mah own bed, thank you very much." Lisa would have argued, but Jeff had shaken his head, and helped his wife upstairs.

I'd better wake her. There's a lot to do today. She can have a nap later, he thought as he listened to her soft breathing. He moved closer, then kissed her on the neck, smoothing a gentle hand over her arm. "Need to get up, love. It's morning."

She sighed, and stirred a little. Jeff kissed her again, and got closer to her ear. "Dianne, love. Time to get up."

"D'Ah have tuh?" she said with a whine.

Jeff sighed. "Yes, love. You do. We do. The kids will be looking for us, and the plane coming..."

She drew in a deep breath and huffed it out. "All raht, all raht." She started pushing her covers back, and Jeff rolled back out of the way. He sat up, then hauling himself to his feet, he stumbled off toward the shower.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1629 is a reply to message #1628] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:16 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 5/19/2007 8:58 PM

Friday, August 24; 4 PM; Richmond, Virginia (Saturday, August 25, 10 AM on Tracy Island)

Tin-Tin was once again on the divan, putting through a call to Tracy Island. It was answered on the third ring by Jeff.
"Hello, Tin-Tin. By the look on your face, I don't think you have good news."

"No, Mr. Tracy; I don't." The sadness on Tin-Tin's face deepened as she continued. "I'm afraid both Heather's mother and sister passed away this morning. I've only just left Heather and her father a little while ago."

Jeff's face grew serious. "I'm very sorry to hear that. It sounds like they are having a difficult time handling this."

"Heather was, but has calmed down. In fact, she was given a sedative to take when she and her father returned home. I made sure she took it, and she was asleep when I left. Her father, however, immediately took charge and pulled some strings. The funeral for both women will be on Tuesday." She saw a movement to Jeff's right (her left) and paused until the other person came into view. "Oh, hello, Dianne."

"Hello, Tin-Tin. I heard what you told Jeff, and I'm so sorry for their loss." Jeff had gotten up from his chair as she spoke, and she sat down. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm managing, but I miss my father."

Jeff, who had pulled up another chair, smiled slightly. "I know what you mean, Tin-Tin. He can be a comfort and a rock of strength and serenity at times like these. Has Jim said anything to you about the funeral, other than when it will be?"

"Only that he hoped someone from Heather's new job would be there for the service. I presume that's what you mean."

"It is. But I don't really see how I can come. I don't want to leave Dianne, and she's not well enough to travel, as you know. I'm not sure if any of my sons or the recruits would want to go. Are you willing to stay and represent us?"

Tin-Tin sighed. "I will do so, Mr. Tracy. But I don't think I need to stick around here until then. The Kennedys don't really need me at this point. I have Lena's cell phone number, and I'll see if she's up to a visit. If she is, I'll go to Silver Spring. Then I'll return for the funeral, and leave for Christchurch immediately afterward."

"And if she isn't able to have you stay with her?" Dianne asked.

"I think I'll go there anyway, stay in a hotel nearby and visit her once or twice. I can rest the remainder of the time, perhaps do a little shopping or sightseeing."

"That sounds like a good plan," Jeff said. "I'll arrange for a car to take you there tomorrow morning, your time, and for the flight to Christchurch. Email me when you know where you'll be staying when you get to Maryland."

"I will, Mr. Tracy."

"And get some rest now, young lady," Dianne added. "You must have had a rough few hours; you look all in."

Tin-Tin smiled wanly. "It has been rough, but I'll be okay. First, a nice hot bath, then a few hours sleep." Her smile grew slightly. "I may even call room service, and have dinner here."

Jeff chuckled. "You do that. We'll need your help when you return. Besides, Brains would probably kill someone if you came back totally exhausted."

"Jeff!" Dianne slapped him lightly on the arm as Tin-Tin blushed. "Now don't you worry about anything, Tin-Tin. Just take care of yourself, represent us at the funeral, and come back safely."

"I will, Dianne. I'll see you both in a few days."

"Tin-Tin, if anyone here wants to attend, I'll email you to let you know," Jeff said.

"Thank you, Mr. Tracy. Good-bye."

Tin-Tin leaned back against the divan when the call ended and closed her eyes. She sighed, then thought, I do so want to get into that bathtub, but I think I'll call Lena first. Then I'll know for certain where I'll be going, and I can get that part over with. She opened her eyes, sat up, found Lena's number and placed the call.

"Hello?"

"Lena, it's Tin-Tin."

"Tin-Tin! Let me put de earplug in, so I can see you. You are on a vidphone, right?"

"Yes, I am."

There was a pause, then Lena's face came into view. "Tin-Tin. You look tired and distressed. What's wrong, honey?"

"Oh, Lena! I'm in Virginia. I flew here with our latest recruit, Heather Kennedy. You never met her; she just came recently. Anyway, her mother and sister were in a terrible car accident. They both died earlier today. I will be going to their funeral on Tuesday. But I really don't want to stick around here until then. Are you up to having a guest?"

"Don't be absurd, child. Of course I am, especially if it's you. And your timing is perfect; I was just allowed to return to my home today. De guest room is ready for you; when will you be coming?"

Tin-Tin's smile grew larger. Hearing and seeing Lena like this was a breath of fresh air to her. "I'll come tomorrow; I don't know what time yet. I'll email you when I do. Oh, I'll need directions to your house for the driver."

"Ah, you're hiring a car. Good. I don't tink you'll be in any shape to drive a couple of hundred miles. Do you have something ready to enter de information in?"

"Yes, Lena. Go ahead."

Lena gave her the information, then said, "Now you get some rest, honey. You can let me know tomorrow when you'll be arriving."

"I will, and thank you, Lena. I look forward to seeing you."

"And I you, Tin-Tin. Until tomorrow."

Tin-Tin terminated the call, sighed happily, and went to start her bath.



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1630 is a reply to message #1629] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:17 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 5/19/2007 9:51 PM

Saturday August 25th, 10:30 AM, Tracy Island (3:30 PM August 24th in San Diego; 4:30 PM in Boulder, Colorado)

Jeff sat at his desk, finishing up the final reports from the fire. We really could have used the full team on this one. I wonder if I should step up my search for a firefighter, one would have come in handy; that thing with Alan was too close. And thinking of the team, I haven't heard from Brandon or Kat since they left.

He pulled up a file on his computer and glanced at the clock. Too late to call England, but not California. He quickly dialed a number and waited for an answer.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm looking for Brandon McCain."

"I'm sorry, but he's gone skydiving. This is his sister, Shannon. Can I take a message?"

Skydiving? What about his parents? Jeff thought to himself. "Yes, please. This is Jeff Tracy; I was calling to see how your parents are doing."

"Oh! Well, they're doing better, but we have a long road ahead of us. Thanks for asking, Mr. Tracy."

"And Brandon? How is he?" Jeff continued.

"He's fine; I'm sorry you missed him."

"Has he mentioned when he might be returning to work?" Jeff asked.

Shannon paused. "No, he hasn't. I don't think he's even thought about it, to tell you the truth."

"Hmmm...." Jeff frowned in thought. "Well, could you please leave him a message that I called and ask him to call me back as soon as he gets in?"

"I'll do that."

"Thank-you, Shannon. I hope things work out with your parents."

"Thanks, Mr. Tracy, I'm sure they will. Good-bye."

Shannon cut the connection and Jeff sat back in his chair. So, Brandon hasn't said anything about coming back. I hope that doesn't mean he won't be returning. He moved onto his next message.

"Mr. Tracy, it's Luke Morel. I'd like to talk to you about accepting your offer."

Jeff sighed before picking up the phone again. "I hope this is good news. We could use some for a change." The phone rang a few times before someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Luke? This is Jeff Tracy."

"Hello, sir. You got my message."

"Yes I did," Jeff replied. "Have you reached a decision?

"I'd like to take the job."

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear it; you'll be a welcome asset to our organization. How long do you think it will take you to wrap up things there?"

"I'm just about ready now. I gave my resignation this morning, effective immediately. No use me being where I'm not wanted."

Luke's voice held an edge of anger to it, but he went on. "What about Rommel, sir? He is coming with me?"

"Of course." Jeff thought for a moment. "You can't put him on a commercial flight with all the quarantine regulations. We'll send a jet to pick you both up. Bring what you feel is essential; we can handle the rest."

Luke paused. "I do have a slight problem. My hunting rifles. I can't leave them with my folks; they'd wonder why I wasn't keeping them in L.A. Will it be a problem if I bring them? They have trigger locks and I won't be bringing any ammo."

"That won't be an issue. We have a weapons locker you can use or keep them in your own rooms, whichever you prefer," Jeff told him.

"Great, thanks."

"I'll be in touch as soon as I figure out when and who is coming to get you."

"I'll be waiting. Thank-you again, Mr. Tracy."

"You're welcome. And Luke?" Jeff smiled. "Welcome to the team."



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Re: Winds of Change [message #1631 is a reply to message #1630] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:18 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: MagicMaster8 Sent: 5/20/2007 7:32 PM

Friday, August 24th, 1:30 p.m. San Diego Municipal Airport

Brandon arrived at the airport, eager to get airborne. I wonder if I'll see any of my friends, he thought. He needn't have worried.

"Yo, McCain, where ya been?" "Hey, Big Mac; it's been a while." "Hey, Brandon, how's it hangin'?"

He looked at the person who made the last remark and answered, with a twinkle in his eye, "Same as always."

"Tell me about it." The banter continued for a few more minutes, then Brandon headed to the door that led to the airfield.

As he stood waiting for his turn, Brandon looked around, thinking about the last time he and Aaron had jumped together.
Man, he came so close to buying it. If I hadn't been with him, he would have wound up just a memory. His musings were interrupted by the door opening followed by the sound of voices.

"Man, that jump was fantastic!"

"Chris, you are a show-off, you know that?"

"What can I say, man?" he replied with a grin.

"How about you, Bradshaw? How'd you enjoy the jump?" At the mention of that name, Brandon turned to look at the group of men, spotting his friend among them.

"I really enjoyed the jump," Aaron replied. "The winds were perfect. Brandon would have loved it! I wonder how he is; I haven't heard from him in a while.

Brandon smiled and said loudly, "Why don't you just ask me, Aaron?"

His friend looked in the direction of the voice and his eyes widened in surprise. "BIG MAC!" Aaron shouted, going to Brandon and giving him bear hug and a high five. "How ya been? I haven't heard from you in a while; I thought you were in Hawaii working for Tracy Industries. What brings you back here?"

"Glad to see you, too," he said, returning the gesture. As they continued talking, Brandon got his friend up to speed as to what had been happening since he'd left San Diego, being careful with what he said.

After he had finished talking, Aaron replied, "Hey, I'm sorry to hear about your parents. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

Brandon smiled at his friend's offer. "Thanks, but everything's under control. If I need any more help, I'll be sure to call you."

Waiting for the plane to make altitude, the two men continued talking, having to speak loudly to be heard above the sound of the plane's engine.

"Hey, I bet I beat you to the ground! Aaron said, teasing his friend.

"In your dreams!" Brandon said, rising to the challenge.

"Let's make it interesting. Last person down buys the beer."

"You're on! Be prepared to pay!"

As the two men exited the plane, they separated quickly. Brandon watched for a moment as his friend did a couple of flips before continuing his free fall. Rather than following Aaron, he did a few stunts of his own, reveling in the wind on his face. From his radio he heard Aaron calling to him.

"Hey Big Mac, you better get a move on or you ain't gonna beat me to the ground!"

"I've got time!" Brandon shouted back. He streamlined his body, quickly closing the distance between him and his friend. But it was too little, too late as he saw Aaron's chute open. As he reached for the ripcord of his parachute, he thought, Well, looks like I'm buyin'.

Later, the two men sat at the bar, enjoying their drinks and reliving the day.

So what if I had to buy the beer; it was worth it. Brandon smiled, thinking of the time he had spent with his friend.
[/color]


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1632 is a reply to message #1631] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:21 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/20/2007 7:52 PM

Saturday, August 25, 2068, 1:30 p.m. Tracy Island

The cargo plane eased to a stop, its engines still whining loudly as it pulled as close to the cliff as it safely dared. The noise ceased, and the little golf cart with its anti-gravity trailer edged down the switchback trail toward the tarmac. The hangar door opened in the cliff, disgorging Scott, Gordon, and Alan, the latter pulling a hover float.

The cockpit doors opened, and Juan jumped down from the pilot's seat, while Gary emerged from the co-pilot's side. The ramp at the back of the plane lowered, as all the parties concerned converged on the spot. Jeff and Virgil climbed out of the cart, while Dianne remained behind, sitting in the passenger seat.

"You've got quite the load today, Mr. Tracy," Juan said. "Medical equipment, drywall, a safe..."

Scott glanced over at Jeff. "A safe?"

"It goes to the Round House. So does the drywall," Jeff told him. "We'll bring it up ourselves."

Gary approached the golf cart with a data pad. "How are you doing, Dr. Tracy?"

Dianne gave him a wan smile. "I'm getting there, Gary." She glanced at the pad as he handed it to her. "Do you need my signature here?"

"Yes, ma'am," Gary said. "Your signature and thumbprint for the medical equipment. We've also got some of the drugs you ordered; they're under a thumbprint lock."

"I'll take care of it, Gary. Just need to look over the manifest and the crates; make sure we have everything we need."

She turned in her seat, sliding her legs out of the cart. Jeff saw this and called, "Dianne!"

"I'm not going anywhere, Jeff," she called back. "It's just easier to see the crates this way."

Jeff gave her a calculating look, then nodded. "We'll bring the float by."

"Dad." Alan came up to his father, shucking his leather-like Penelon work gloves. "We'll need the forklift. Brains has got some sheet metal here."

"Okay, Alan. Get the lift, and give Brains a call. It looks like we'll need him down here, too."

As Alan went back into the hangar, and Gary joined the other Tracy sons in loading up the float, Jeff took Juan aside. "Did you get my request about bringing Mrs. Hanson out with the mail on Tuesdays?"

"Yes, I did," Juan replied, frowning. "I don't mind bringing her, but it's not going to be a comfortable ride."

Jeff huffed a laugh, and smiled wryly. "I don't think that will matter to her as much as saving time and energy do. She's a very practical woman."

"All right," Juan said, finally nodding, "if that's what you want. How will she get back?"

"Don't worry; we'll see to that," Jeff told him. "Thanks for being flexible." He clapped the pilot on the shoulder, and glanced up at the unloading crew. Brains had joined the group, and was guiding Alan, who was driving the forklift. "Let's get the rest of this unloaded so you can be on your way."
Juan nodded, and the two men rejoined the work crew.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1633 is a reply to message #1632] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:22 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: lillehafrue Sent: 5/20/2007 7:54 PM

Tracy Island, Saturday August 25th, a little after 10 PM....

Alan threw himself down on his bed with a groan. It had been a long day, starting with the fire and ensuing rescue, then coming home to face the drama down in the repair bay. Even after sleeping for most of the morning, he still felt drained and could feel a headache starting.

He settled himself more comfortably on his bed and closed his eyes. His thoughts immediately returned to the events of the day...

Flashback.

Alan helped Brains tuck the blanket around Dianne, looking up as his father came racing into the room.

"What's the situation?"

"She hasn't responded to us, she's cold; she's been over breathing; her pulse is up."

Alan and Brains stepped aside, letting Jeff get to his wife's side. They watched as Jeff managed to get Dianne back to the present, and down the ladder. When Dianne slipped, Alan caught her, clinging to her for a moment longer than necessary before Jeff started leading her away.

"Alan, head up to the dining room and see if Scott's started the debriefing. If not, tell him to start," Jeff told him.

"On my way, Dad," Alan replied, heading out the door and up to the dining room. He paused in the doorway, then stepped inside.

"...fired a shell and...Alan?" Gordon stopped in mid-sentence as everyone turned.

"Hey," he said wearily, plopping himself down on a chair. "What did I miss?"

"Forget that, what's going on?" Scott demanded.

"It's Mom," Alan said as he poured himself a mug of coffee. "She went down to Seven."

Silence gripped the room. "Is she all right?" Scott asked, his voice gruff.

Alan shrugged. "I think so, now anyway." He proceeded to tell them what had happened downstairs, causing the others to gasp in concern. "Dad's getting her calmed down and probably headed back to bed."

"The infirmary I hope," Gordon muttered.

Alan shrugged. "I guess so. Unless she decides to go back to her room."

"Stubborn woman," Scott growled.

"Yeah well, look who's talking." Elise frowned in Scott's direction.

Scott ignored the jibe. "Well, let's finish this then; I for one would like to get to bed."

End Flashback.


Alan shivered, not from being cold. I'm glad Mom faced her demons, but I don't think she should have done it alone. Hopefully she'll talk to Anna next time she comes to the island. He felt himself drifting off, despite the headache, and a moment later was fast asleep.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1634 is a reply to message #1633] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:24 Go to previous messageGo to next message
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/20/2007 7:55 PM

Saturday, August 25, 2068, 10:45 p.m., Tracy Island

The night breeze ruffled Jeff's hair, and he pulled his wife closer to him. They sat on the swing in Kyrano's garden, enjoying the few flowers that still bloomed. The swing rocked gently back and forth, creaking a little with the motion. The quiet was soothing, and Jeff sighed deeply, a satisfied sound.

Dianne leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyelids growing heavy. Even with her afternoon nap, she still felt tired from the day's events. Jeff glanced over at her, planted a kiss in her hair, then spoke quietly.

"Why'd you do it?"

She sighed; she knew what he was asking even though he hadn't explained himself. Shifting so she was sitting up straighter, she took his free hand in hers, linking their fingers, staring at the fingers but not really seeing them. Jeff kept an arm around her shoulders.

Finally she said, "Ah couldn't sleep. Tried watchin' the vid... nothin' suited." She paused for a moment. "There was a news report on the fire. They mentioned Seven; said that it hadn't shown up and though theyah were reports of a medic, they didn't know if it was one of..." her voice dropped in volume, "... us."

She turned her face to the sky and sighed; her grip on his hand tightened slightly. "Just all of a sudden, Ah felt Ah had to go. A last step in healin', Ah thought. So, Ah went. Thought about takin' Ma along, but she was sleepin' an'... Ah had t' do this foah mahself." She looked back at their entwined hands, and traced over his knuckles with a wandering finger. "Ah had no ideah Ah'd react that way. Everythin' Ah looked at, everythin' Ah touched, it all brought back the memories so vividly. An' when Ah climbed into the cab an' saw the stain... Ah was back there again, unable t' breathe, mah leg drippin' blood." Closing her eyes, she swallowed heavily. "Ah thought... Ah thought Ah could handle it." She looked at him and gave him a rueful smile. "Good thing Alan and Brains came along when they did."

"Mm hmm," Jeff hummed in agreement.

They sat quietly for a while, Dianne still aimlessly tracing her husband's knuckles. Finally Jeff shifted a bit and pulled her closer with his encompassing arm. "Now that you've been down there, what are you going to do about it?"

She looked out at the garden, and softly replied, "Ah think Ah'll be Anna's first patient come Tuesday."

"Good idea," he murmured. Disentangling his fingers from hers, he put a gentle knuckle under her chin and guided her face toward his. He kissed her lips and was surprised to see the sparkle of tears in her eyes. He cupped her face in both hands and gently wiped the tears away with his thumbs, then kissed her again, deeper this time. Her fingers went to his face to stroke along the jawline; the brushing of his five o'clock shadow sounded loud in his ears.

"I think it's time we went inside, love," he said softly. "We've had a long day."

She nodded, and they rose together, the swing bumping gently into the backs of their legs. Fingers entwined once more, they sauntered slowly up to the house, and to the sleep they'd so long denied themselves.


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Re: Winds of Change [message #1635 is a reply to message #1634] Fri, 27 July 2012 16:25 Go to previous messageGo to previous message
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 5/20/2007 8:55 PM

Saturday, August 25, Silver Spring; 11:30 AM (3:30 AM Sunday, August 26 on Tracy Island)

Lena stepped out her front door and walked down to the curb to watch for the car bringing Tin-Tin to her home. A few minutes later, a light colored sedan pulled up to the curb. The driver got out, touched his hand to the brim of his hat to Lena as he moved to the passenger door and opened it for the young woman. Tin-Tin emerged and moved quickly over to her friend, carefully hugging her.

Lena returned it with enthusiasm, saying, "I'm so glad to see you. How was de drive over?"

"Very smooth, and the traffic wasn't bad at all."

The driver in the meantime got the bags out of the trunk. "Where do you want me to put these, ma'am?"

"Just put dem inside de front door. We'll take dem from dere."
He followed the two women as they walked inside, their arms around each other's waists. He put the luggage down in the foyer, then touched the brim of his hat again. "Have a nice visit, Miss Kyrano. I will return for you on Tuesday."

Tin-Tin nodded at him and smiled as she handed him a tip. "It was a very smooth, enjoyable ride. I'll see you at ten Tuesday morning. Thank you, Preston."

"Thank you, miss. Until Tuesday." He left, closing the door behind him, and a minute later they heard the car move off.
Lena picked up the smaller of the two bags and said, "Let me show you your room. You can freshen up, den we can have some lunch and chat."

"That sounds lovely," Tin-Tin replied as she picked up the other bag and followed Lena down the hall. "I'm looking forward to my visit. Oh! What a charming room! I'm sure I'll be very comfortable here."

"Tank you." Lena put the bag she was carrying on the dresser and indicated where the suitcase should go. "De top drawers are empty, if you want to unpack. And dere are hangars in de closet. Take your time, and come out when you're ready."

"I will. It's going to be so nice to have a few days where I don't have to be anywhere or do anything at a particular time."
Lena smiled at her, then turned and left.

When Tin-Tin left the room twenty minutes later, she found Lena in the kitchen. "Oh please, let me help with that," she said as Lena tried to pour some lemonade into glasses, with some difficulty.

"Tank you, honey. Some tings take getting used to doing wit only one hand."

The younger woman filled the glasses, then took them over to the table in the "breakfast nook". The food had already been set out, along with silverware, plates, and napkins, so they sat down to eat and talk.

"Lena, did you hear about the fire in Australia?"

"No, I didn't. I haven't had de television on, nor have I been on my computer to get any news. I take it International Rescue was called."

"I heard about it on the way here. I was too tired to check the news last night, and too busy getting ready to come here this morning. I found out on the way here. It sounded like International Rescue offered their help, instead of being called. But things are under control, thanks to them."

Dat's a relief. And I take it no one was injured on dis rescue -- from de rescue group, I mean."

"Right." Tin-Tin smiled at her friend. "A chopper did go down and there were injuries among that crew. But they were all rescued. And so was a rum plant. So Gordon won't be complaining about prices going up." She laughed, and Lena joined in.

"Dat's good to know. But who went? Some of de field personnel must still be out of commission."

"Well, actually, only Dianne still is. But Kat had to go back to England to testify against a man who harassed her at a previous job, and has been accused by another woman of trying to assault her. Plus, her brother's wedding was moved up, due to the bride's brother having to ship out sooner than expected. And I had to accompany Heather here, or she might have crashed."

"Oh my. Dere seems to have been some drama back dere. I should have called, if only to chat and find out how everyone is."

"Lena, you were doing some recuperating yourself. And you did email people."

"It's not de same as talking to dem. Oh well, maybe we can call dem later. Right now, I want to hear from you what else has been going on. Tell me more."

Tin-Tin smiled, and the two women had a nice long chat about the events of the last few weeks.


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