Home » The Archives » Chapter 7 » Trouble Under the Hood
| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1895 is a reply to message #1894] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:46   |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2006 5:44 AM
Friday, July 13, 2068, 8:45 a.m., local time, Black Mountain, NH
Dianne reached a hand out to take the piece of metal from Elise's grasp. "May I?" she asked, letting her professionalism control her drawl. Elise didn't even look up as she held out her hand, robot-like. Dianne slowly took the piece without taking her eyes off Elise. Trying to control her own rising emotions, she looked at the small piece of wreckage. It was definitely the Tracy helijet. She closed her eyes briefly, and then spoke softly. "Scott, here. Take this."
Scott looked up at his stepmother and then took the piece from her. Scott's reaction was much the same as Dianne's. Neither one of them had expected to be looking at a piece of the wreckage of that awful night. Scott fingered the metal, feeling the familiar coolness and texture of the special material that Brains had come up with. He took in a deep breath and let it out shakily.
Dianne put a hand on Elise's shoulder. "Elise, what are you feeling right now? What are you remembering?"
Elise couldn't answer right away. She tried to process Dianne's questions, but it was as if her voice was fading far into the distance. The cold was creeping in, bitter cold and it was snowing again. She shivered. "Cold, so cold. The rain won't stop. The storm..." The memories flooded in then and Elise was thrust back into the nightmare which she'd tried so hard to escape from...
"Storm Straight ahead is the front of a severe ice storm... I'm afraid we maybe in for a rough ride Mr. Tracy. Wind speed is outrageous, I've never seen anything like this before." The controls started to fight her command. The chopper reared violently and started losing altitude. The rain/ice pounded the aircraft as it fought to remain airborne...
Elise started to shake her head and repeat, "No, no," over and over, caught up in the memories that were now so very real again.
"Elise? Talk to me Elise." Scott tried to bring her back to the present but one look at the girl's face told him she was caught up in the nightmare. (Flashback)
"Elise? Elise talk to me." Jeff Tracy's voice could barely be heard above the howling rage of the storm. Then the warning lights went off, growing louder and louder.
She fought to regain control but to no avail. "The instruments? they can't be right...something's not right!" ...
"Elise I'm coming up there to help."
"NO! Mr. Tracy! Stay where you are... stay where you are..."
Elise raised her eyes to Scott. "I tried to get him to sit down with his seat belt on, he wouldn't listen." she sobbed. "He just wouldn't listen." Tears started to roll down her face and Scott gently started to rub her shoulder, hoping she'd feel the comfort he offered.
"He's a stubborn one all right," Scott said softly. He rubbed her shoulder some more. It seemed to calm her a little.
Dianne took advantage of this to redirect Elise's focus. "What then, Elise?" she asked, her voice soft but insistent.
"We rolled." It was a blunt statement, said to no one in particular. Scott closed his eyes knowing full well what Elise meant. A roll under full control of the pilot was one thing, but a roll out of control meant certain disaster. "We dropped like a bird and then there was this sound....this crunching thud and that was all...it was over. We were down."
Dianne didn't like the way Elise was suddenly so very calm and blunt. It meant she was removing herself from the memories, and that wasn't good.
"Mom? What's wrong with her?" Scott started to sound worried. He'd picked up on the change in Elise, too.
Dianne rubbed her chin, and blew an audible breath from her nose. "She's withdrawing," she murmured. "We have to bring this out." Glancing at Scott, she said, "Tell her what happened from our end of things."
Scott looked startled, but nodded. He took a moment to think back, then said, "I remember we were getting worried. Dad hadn't called in and no one seemed to know where he was. We heard that he'd taken his personal helijet out, and we had Alan - who was in Thunderbird Five at the time - track his watch. We were really surprised to find out he was in New Hampshire." He looked into Elise's face as he spoke. "I tried to call him on his watch, but there was nothing. He wasn't answering. I began to use the International Rescue call signs. Then, suddenly, there was a noise, and you started talking."
Elise's lip started to tremble as she held Scott's eyes and mumbled, "We weren't in New Hampshire, Scott, we were in hell, a living hell. No radio, no instruments, no one knew we'd gone down. There was no sound. I thought your dad was... he wasn't moving, and I couldn't get to him. I couldn't help him." She started crying again, more intensely this time and Scott moved closer to wrap both his arms around her as the horror unfurled once again...
There was pain, lots of pain and cold. She woke up confused and hurting on her right side. The cabin of the helijet came into focus and it was a mess. Realizing they had crashed, she started to clamber across the wreckage calling out for Jeff. There was no answer. Making her way to the seat he was supposed to have been strapped in, she found instead a crumpled mass of fuselage and pinned underneath was Jeff.
"Oh God, he can't be.... no. He can't..." Scrambling to find the first aid kit, she managed to tuck some thermal blankets around him, his face, ashen and grey, remained motionless and she pleaded with him to wake up. "Mr. Tracy? Can you hear me? Wake up!"
He never moved.
Somehow making her way back to the radio, she tried to call for help. "Mayday! Mayday! Tracy Chopper One down, need immediate assistance."
There was no answer, not even static.
She suddenly felt very alone and helpless. Making her way back to Jeff again, she started pleading with him not to die, and then heard beeping. Knowing it wasn't the radio, she fumbled about until she realized it was his watch. Trying to find an alarm button she pressed something and then heard it. The voice of Scott Tracy.
"Tracy Island to Jeff Tracy! Come in Dad!" Relief overwhelmed her and her frozen fingers tried to find the contact button to talk to him.
Cradled in Scott's arms, Elise spoke again. "I couldn't believe I heard your voice, and then you said 'International Headquarters to Jeff Tracy. Come in Jeff Tracy.' I remember how confused I was at that, I thought I was losing it due to the cold."
Dianne watched Elise's reactions carefully, trying hard to push back her own visions of what had happened, her own memories of what she had seen and heard and done. I've dealt with it, and I'll continue to deal with it. But not now. Now it's time for Elise to deal with it, and go on from there. She waited a few moments for Elise to calm once more, then she asked, "How did you feel about what happened? You said you were confused when you heard Scott's voice; what happened after that?"
Elise was quiet for a minute of two, putting her thoughts and the memories into some order. "I remember talking to Scott, telling him we were down and we were critical."
"Scott! Thank God! It's Elise, we're down and we're critical. Storm... couldn't make it through... wind shear..." Breathing was becoming more difficult as the cold seeped into her veins. She wanted to close her eyes and go back to sleep. "Your dad, Scott... not good... gotta help him, Scott. You've got to help him! So cold in here..."
"It was then that I heard John's voice, promising me that Scott was coming, coming to get us. International Rescue were on their way. I don't remember much after that, I remember seeing you, Dianne, and you said you were his wife. I didn't get that at the time. God, I thought we were dead for sure." She started to cry more again, "I didn't want to die alone!" Scott felt her hands gripping his arms tighter. "I didn't want to die like they had, like my parents had."
It was then that she broke down completely and sobbed her heart out. Scott didn't know what to say, so he just held her and comforted her.
flashbacks by FrankieCTB2 and Tikatu
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
 
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1896 is a reply to message #1895] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:47 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2006 6:23 AM
Dianne sighed, feeling as if a weight had lifted. She waited patiently until the pilot had cried herself out before speaking. "I think, Elise, we've come to the crux of the matter. Your parents drowned, dying in the cold waters, wet and alone. You nearly did as well; there was nothing you could do to help them. And here you were, facing a similar situation, cold, wet and alone, with someone relying on you for salvation, just as you thought your parents were relying on you." She knelt down and put a hand on Elise's shoulder and squeezed it. "Elise, look at me."
Elise turned her tear-streaked face to Dianne. "Now listen to me," the doctor said firmly. "When your parents died, you were nine. There was nothing humanly possible that you could do to save them. But when the chopper went down, you could - and did - do everything possible to save both yourself and Jeff. You took control, Elise. Now you need to take control again. It's not easy; I can attest to that. But it can be done, and you are strong enough to do it. Especially since you now know were the root of your fears comes from." She smiled. "You're no longer a child in a situation that is out of your hands. You have tools to help combat the fear. And you have people who are willing to help you through it."
"I... I don't know if I'm strong enough," Elise whispered.
"You are. You've come here and faced your demons," Scott said, his voice raspy. "I'm not saying it'll all go away with a wave of Dianne's magic wand..."
"What magic wand?" Dianne quietly retorted, a smile playing about her lips.
Scott rolled his eyes and continued, "But you can work on it now. You know what the demon is, where it came from. That knowledge is a very powerful weapon." He gave Elise a short hug. "And, like Dianne said, you're not alone in this."
"This is only the start, really, but it's a good start towards healing," Dianne added. She looked up. Elise followed her gaze and, suddenly, the clearing, with its bright meadow, came alive to Elise again. The birds were singing, the insects were buzzing around, and she could feel the warm sun on her face. The scent of the grass, and the wildflowers, and Scott's sweat, all rolled over her, and she sighed.
"How do you feel now?" Dianne asked.
"Tired. Washed out," Elise replied truthfully. "But better."
"Good." A rumbling noise sounded out, and Dianne colored, then smiled. "Well, there's another country heard from. Are you two ready for breakfast?"
"I sure am," Scott said, grinning.
"I... I guess so," Elise said. She was still feeling a bit unsettled, but she did feel immeasurably better.
"Then let's go into town and find one of those little Mom and Pop places," Dianne suggested, as she stood. "Those are the spots for the best breakfasts."
"You're on," Scott replied. He stood, and reached down to help Elise up. That's when he realized that he still had the piece of wreckage in his hand. He used the other help her lever herself from the ground, then he held out the bit of metal and asked, "Do you want to keep this?"
Elise shook her head. "No. Leave it behind."
"Okay." Scott smiled, and tossed it away.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1897 is a reply to message #1896] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:50 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2006 9:14 AM
Friday, July 13, 2068, 1:30 p.m., local time, Jacksonville, FL (roughly 6:30 a.m., July 14, Tracy Island)
"There they are," the woman said to the man who sat beside her, watching the children cavorting in the subdivision pool.
"Which ones?"
"Hmm. Let's see." The woman peered through the windshield. "Yeah. See the teenager with the long, kind of honey brown hair and the shades? She's wearing a blue maillot."
The man lifted a vidcam to his eye and adjusted his zoom lens. "Yeah, I see her. Can't get a good shot from here; the windshield's too dirty."
"Okay. Then the blond boy who's playing with the smaller boy... the one with the brick red hair. They both have buzz cuts but I think you can see..."
"Yeah. The older one's wearing a t-shirt?"
"That's him."
"The younger kid is the brother?"
"Yes."
"Okay, got them. Let's go."
The pair got out of the sedan. The man leaned up against the hood of the car, lifting the camera, and using the zoom lens to try and capture the three children who were sunning themselves or swimming among the others from the upscale subdivision. The woman started to go around the fence, planning on calling out the name of the girl and trying to get a few words with her.
Suddenly, a hand thrust itself upwards, covering the lens of the camera and dragging it down. The photographer glared at the older woman who had hold of his device. The would-be interviewer was intercepted by a brawny man, who stood in her way and blocked her every attempt to get closer to the pool.
"Get out of my way. I'm with the press," she said, trying to push past him. He merely smiled and changed his position.
"Let go of my lens!" the cameraman said, frowning. "You're putting hand prints on it!"
"Sorry, but no pictures," the older woman said, firmly taking hold of the vidcamera, keeping her hands over the lens. He struggled to pull it free, but she had a good grip.
"That's enough!" A sharp voice cut between the two small parties. All four people turned to see a young woman, dressed smartly, a Tracy Industries lapel pin on her suit's jacket, standing beside the sedan. "Maureen, Elliott, bring them back here."
The interviewer, seeing this woman as someone in charge, flounced up to her, beckoning for her photographer to follow. "I am Sarah Gerrold, with NTBS Jacksonville. My cameraman, Sid, and I are here to get a few words with the Tracy children. You are interfering with freedom of the press!"
"And you, Ms. Gerrold, are interfering with the Tracy family's right to privacy," the well-dressed woman said. "You get one warning; do not try and interview or take pictures of the Tracy children. If we see you or your cameraman loitering around them again, we will turn you over to the police."
"On what charge?"
The smartly dressed woman smiled. "Trespassing. Haven't you seen the signs? This is a subdivision pool and only members are allowed." She looked at her fellow security people. "And before you ask: we have standing permission to accompany the Tracy children to the pool and the other subdivision amenities." She poked a well-manicured finger at Sarah. "Now, leave them alone, or find yourself in jail."
"And what will you do if we don't?" Sarah Gerrold put her head up proudly.
"Besides having you arrested for trespassing... or stalking?" the security chief said. "Cease and desist orders against your affiliate here and your main headquarters in New York, civil lawsuits against both you and Sid seeking damages for the children's emotional distress, a lawsuit against your affiliate for the same... in other words, we will tie you in such legal knots that you'll lose your job, and more."
"But the Tracys are newsworthy!"
"Correction: Mr. Tracy is newsworthy and a public figure. His adopted children are not. Now go."
Sarah Gerrold looked as if she was going to be stubborn, but the security chief merely said, "Elliott?" The brawny man took out his cell, and began dialing for the police.
"All right, all right. We're going." Gerrold motioned to Sid, and they walked back to the sedan. "We'll find another way," she whispered to him. "Later."
He nodded. They both got into the car and drove out of the parking lot.
"Do you think they'll be back, Liz?" Maureen asked as she watched them go.
"Probably," Liz said, sighing. "Fortunately the kids only have two more days here then they're on their way to South Carolina to their maternal grandmother's house. Then the security people up there can deal with the press."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1899 is a reply to message #1897] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:52 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/17/2006 1:46 PM
Friday, July 13, 2068, 7:45 p.m., local time, Black Mountain, NH
Scott stood out on the balcony of the cottage, a cold beer in his hand. He leaned forward on the balcony rail, and looked out on the high cirrus clouds, reflecting the sun's light in the pinks, and peaches and lavenders of sunset.
Dianne had planned a nice dinner, and had set him to grilling steaks. Elise helped out; she was still subdued to some extent, but by the end of the meal she was laughing at Dianne's stories along with Scott. The women were cleaning things up, and Scott took a quiet moment to reflect on the morning's events.
Finding that piece of wreckage was so... so eye opening. The meadow was so different from what I remember that winter night... was it only six months ago? It was as if the clearing was a different place, the wrong place. But that little bit of wreckage...
"Penny for them," came a voice from behind.
Scott turned abruptly to find Dianne behind him, a glass half full of wine in her hand. "Oh, hi, Mom." He went back to looking at the clouds as she joined him at the railing. "I was just thinking how... different that clearing was from the night when... it happened."
"I know what you mean," she said, standing close. "I could barely believe it myself when your father and I were here." She took a sip of her wine. "It was a rough time, but it went far to help me get over what happened."
"Do you think it will help her?" he asked, glancing back with a shake of his head toward the cabin.
"Yes, I do. She knows now what she is afraid of more than anything. It's not the water; it's dying in it." Dianne glanced back. "It will still take some time, and I don't know if she'll ever fully shake it, but she'll be able to realize the fear for what it is, and take control of it."
"Good." Scott took a swig of his beer, but glanced up, startled, when Dianne put a hand on his shoulder.
"And what about you?" she asked, her voice quiet.
He gave her a smile. "What about me?"
"How did you feel, seeing that place today?"
His smile faded, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm... I'm not sure. It was hard. I couldn't stop the memories from flooding out. I tried to put them aside to help Elise."
"How did you feel, remembering?"
Scott could tell she was in her doctor mode. "I remember feeling so helpless to do anything, except keep that light shining on the wreckage. It was worse than when one of the boys gets hurt on a rescue; at least there I usually can do something, even if it's order the others around, or coordinate information. But I couldn't even land."
"You don't like feeling helpless, do you?"
"Does anyone?" he replied with a snort. "It was hard because it was... Dad. Maybe I'm prepared for the possibility of my brothers getting hurt or even killed; we've been at it so long that I... I've gone in with that at the back of my mind. But Dad? No way. I know I should be prepared; he's not going to last forever, but not that way. Not so suddenly and without any warning."
Dianne squeezed his shoulder. "I understand that feeling, Scott. No one is prepared for a death in the family and even less if it's sudden, and violent. Yet, you have to realize that, although you weren't able to land and get your hands dirty, you were far from helpless. You were the steady rock that everyone leaned on, and that was no small feat considering the situation." She gave him a small smile. "You helped me focus when I needed it, too, and for that, I thank you."
Scott put down his beer, and mother and son embraced. He didn't know why, but somehow his eyes were tearing up and he found it hard to breathe properly. He let out a shuddering sob, and suddenly, instead of him being his stepmother's support, she was his.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1901 is a reply to message #1899] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:55 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
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From: AmandaTracyandFred Sent: 5/20/2006 7:20 PM
The sun sank in glorious splendor of reds, oranges, and pinks in the sky as a two-seater, silver blue, Mach 3 model Jet Star made its approach on the landing strip at the Tracy Industries Testing Grounds outside Wichita, Kansas. Richard Tate, test pilot as well as emergency donor pilot, stood watching with arms folded, feet apart, as the swift plane landed and then taxied up to its hanger bay. The name of the plane, Blue Streak, was painted on the right hand side near the nose cone. As soon as the plane rolled to a stop, Tate drove a small tractor up to the plane and hooked it up to prepare for berthing.
The scream of the engines died away suddenly. The owner pushed the canopy back. A pair of hands reached up to pull the navy blue helmet off, revealing a crown of braided auburn hair encircling a soft pale oval face and a confident smile.
Tate got back out of his tractor, concerned. The pilot was taking her time getting out of the jet. "Hey, Heather!" A navy blue glove gave him a slow, royal wave, and then grasped the sides of the cockpit to push herself up and out of the seat. Tate walked purposely up as close to the side of the cockpit as he could and offered the lady a helping hand. "So, were you able to get that heart to the patient's medical team in time?"
Heather smiled with yawn. "Yes! I cut it kind of close though. There was a thunderstorm halfway to Kansas City and I had to make a slight detour. Donor tissues can't take a lot of shaking around. The flight has to be as smooth as possible." Pulling herself out onto the Blue Streak's wing, she continued, "I'm tired, but at least today I didn't have to test fly. I played a long streak of poker here at the testing grounds, and then I got the emergency flight call. Oh, Richard, the sky was just beautiful!"
"How did you do in the poker game---or dare I ask?"
"I cleaned up, and I ticked off one of the players so bad, he attacked me as I was trying to get to the plane for that trip to Kansas City."
Helping her down off the wing, Richard shook his head. "I heard security arrested Jack Little. I didn't know he took it out on you! So, what happened?"
Rubbing her forearm in remembrance and wincing again, she walked with Richard to the hanger's exit. "He was drunk, and you know how he gets when he's drunk?"
"Yup. I do---unfortunately. Then what?"
As they talked, she noticed Richard was walking with her through the hanger. His body hugged her personal space and after flying in a cramped cabin, she needed some room. "Dick, you don't have to escort me, you know."
"Hey," Richard replied. "I know you can kick some serious butt with your Tae Kwon Do and all, but I would be remiss in my duties to make sure you are all right. We're partners! Live with it." He received a snappy salute. As their boots tapped a slightly out of sync beat against the cement flooring, Richard pulled out a piece of paper with a name and phone number. "Your mother called. Turned off your cellphone again, eh?"
"Oh no," Heather sighed, pulling out her cellphone and turning it on. "Did you have to take it? I told her not to call the testing grounds! If Maw isn't careful, Mr. Tracy himself will chase me out of here because of her!"
"'Maw'? Boy, that prairie accent is definitely kickin' in, Kennedy."
"And yo not helpin', Tate!"
"That was bad!"
"Yup! Ah know!"
Richard dropped her off at the nearest exit that would take her into the airport's facilities. Heather made her way down the hallway, eventually coming out in a map room that held a long briefing table and chairs. Stepstools sat pushed up against a contour map of Kansas at the Oklahoma border. From the map room, she walked down another short corridor until she reached the testing grounds' comfortable lounge room. Here, Heather savored the quiet, while making herself a glass of iced tea from a nearby iced tea brewer near the bulletin board. She barely had a moment to take a sip when the electronic beeps of Pomp and Circumstance came from an inner pocket of her leather flight jacket. She groaned to no one in particular. "I am not in the mood for this. Grrrr!"
Leaning against the bulletin board where several notices, both large and small, were posted, she pulled out the cellphone. One notice was for a pizzeria. Heather cringed. "Forget that. Maybe a hamburger somewhere. A third pounder! Or a taco salad. No, wait---a T-bone steak medium rare!" Her stomach rumbled. Popping the lid of the little phone, she answered it. "Hi Maw---"
"Heather Marie Kennedy!" came the response from her mother, causing Heather to pull the receiver away from her ear. "I did not send you to private school all those years so you could lapse into talking like a-a-a hayseed from Dodge City!"
"I love you, too, Mother. How are you?"
"Hi 'Feather'!" a young male voice said next, interrupting her mother's conversation.
"Hey Donnie! How's life treatin' you?"
"Hello, Heather. How's my sweetheart doing? How's that bird of yours holding up?"
Hearing the multitude of questions, Heather laughed while trying to sort them out. "Hi, Dad! The Jet Star is lovely! She flies like a dream."
"Oh, Heather!" She heard her mother say. "Honestly, by all rights you should come home, stay home, and be properly married--"
"Martha, leave that girl alone for right now. Ignore her, Heather. You sound tired. How was your day, sweetheart?"
"Not too bad. I made about $2,000 tonight at a local poker game and then I received an emergency call from the hospital...."
"Another donor flight?"
"Yes, Dad. I hit a large thunderstorm and had some high winds to contend with--"
"Heather!" her mother interrupted. "I think it's high time you got rid of this 'job' of yours testing aircraft for Tracy Industries. Does that man ever appreciate the job you do?"
"Mother--"
"And does he realize how dangerous it is? Didn't you have to--oh what is the word now? The last trip you made and something went wrong, and you had to escape...?"
"'Bailed out' is the phrase you're looking for."
"Honey, I'm tired of worrying about you every single day, wondering if we're going to get a call that you're dead!"
Come on, Dad. Cut in any time now! Heather inwardly groaned, dropping her forehead against the bulletin board's posts for positions opening. Suddenly, she felt exhausted as her mother rattled away her worries. Her eyes stared at one plain white index card. Jeff Tracy was looking for a new personal pilot. He's asking for a new pilot already? What happened to the one he just hired?
"Heather," James said with a carefully gentle voice. "I do have to agree with your mother on this. I worry, too. There's no reason why you can't just 'retire' from your work at the testing grounds and get a position with my company."
It was bad enough that she had to hear that from her mother almost every time she called, but now with her father adding his voice to her mother's, Heather felt defeated. Fuming at what she considered a slight betrayal from her father, who helped finance her Jet Star in the first place, Heather decided it might be time to try again in applying for personal pilot with Jeff Tracy. Making her decision, she felt better already.
"Okay. I give up. I've decided you are right and I'm going to go ahead and apply for a new position." She could hear her mother praising God, her father's heavy sigh of relief, and almost wished she hadn't said it.
"Wonderful!" Martha said with delight. "When can you make it home?"
"Oh, I'm not coming home," Heather said with a smile on her face.
"But you said--"
"I said I was going to get a new position--as Jeff Tracy's personal pilot! Bye, Maw! Bye, Paw!" With that, she firmly tapped the cellphone, cutting off the connection in Virginia. With iced tea in hand, she walked out of the exit, heading for the parking lot where her jet black Jaguar waited for her.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1902 is a reply to message #1901] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:56 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 5/21/2006 8:49 AM
Tracy Island -- July 14, 2.30p.m.
Gordon peeked round the kitchen door. Grandma was busy cooking, and the smell had drawn the young man to see what she was making.
There was a large plate of chocolate muffins lying temptingly within his reach. She had her back to him, so slowly, inch-by-inch, he moved nearer and nearer to the plate.
"Gordon Tracy! Just what do you think you're doing?"
Her voice made him jump, and he accidentally knocked the plate onto the floor, smashing it and ruining the muffins.
"Goodness, look what you've done. I was making them especially for when your mother, Scott and Elise return."
Feeling guilty, he said, "Aww, gosh, Grandma, I'm sorry. They looked so tempting."
"Then you'd better help me make some more."
"But I can't cook," he protested.
"Then I think it's high time you learnt."
"But Grandma, I promised Virgil and John I'd join them in the games room. I've challenged them to a game of pool."
"Then the sooner you help me, the sooner you can join them," Grandma said sternly, handing him one of her frilly aprons. "Here put this on."
"Do I have to?" Gordon protested.
"While you're cooking with me, yes, you do."
Gordon began to measure out the ingredients under his Grandma's eagle eye. He was just starting to mix the ingredients when to his horror, Virgil stuck his head around the kitchen door.
"Grandma, have you seen...?" Then he let out a howl of laughter at the sight of his brother with a frilly apron on, vigorously stirring something in a large bowl.
"Man, Gords, the lengths you'll go to avoid a thrashing at pool."
"This had better not go any further," Gordon said through gritted teeth.
Virgil continued laughing. "Well, Grandma, I'll not hinder your little helper. See you later, Gordon; happy cooking. I'll just tell John you are temporarily indisposed."
When he left, Gordon muttered, "If this gets out, I'll be the laughing stock of the family."
"Then maybe you'll think twice before trying to help yourself next time," Grandma said smiling.
As soon as the muffins were baked and Gordon had taken them out of the oven to cool, he rushed out of the kitchen and headed for the games room. In his desire to get away quick he had forgotten that he was still wearing Grandma's apron.
"Aww man," he said quickly undoing the apron strings. He was just going to shove it under a cushion in the lounge, when he heard Brains coming in. Gordon disappeared as quickly as he could back to the kitchen to return the offending apron to Grandma. Once he made sure there were no traces of what he'd been doing on him, he headed out to have that pool game.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1903 is a reply to message #1902] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 18:58 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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[b]From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 5/23/2006 12:16 AM [/i]
Tracy Island -- July 14th, early evening.
It was now three days since John had spoken to Kat. She had told him that she had tried to apologise to Callie, but that in fact Callie was finding it difficult to accept Kat's apology. In fact according to Kat, Callie had intimated that she might never forgive her friend. He had agreed to have a word with her.
"Hey, John, care to join me in the gym?" Virgil approached his brother.
But John shook his head. "No thanks, Virgil, I'm going to have a chat with Kat. I want us to start spending more time together before I leave."
He activated his communications watch. Her face came into view.
"Hi Kat." He smiled at her. "I'm just going for a walk on the beach; would you care to join me? "
"Yes, I'd love to. I'll be right with you."
"Meet me by the pool and wear something warm; it's rather chilly."
Shortly she joined him. Giving him a slight smile, she said, "Hi, John."
"Hello, Kat. How've you been doing?"
"I have to say that things are cool between myself and Callie, but I guess that was to be expected considering how I treated her. As for the others, nothing has been said, but I sometimes see them looking at me. I think they must wonder what has been happening."
"Kat," John began. "I've had a talk with Callie. She told me that you had apologised to her, and that she may be able to forgive you in time. That's not the impression you gave me."
Kat took a deep breath and with a shaky voice said, "Oh John, I was so upset at how Callie acted, that I don't think I really took on board what she was saying. She was so icy; I guess that in my distress, I just heard her say that she wouldn't forgive me. I'm sorry, if I mislead you." Here her voice faltered. "I have really missed seeing and talking to you." Then she added, "Actually, I don't usually act like this. I can stand up for myself, but this time I was rather a bitch. My mother says that at times like this, I should engage my brain before I act. I just over-reacted at the acute disappointment I was feeling."
"Okay, Kat," John said. "Let's just leave it here and consider it a valuable lesson."
For a while they continued walking. Then he stopped and glanced down at her.
"I have missed seeing and talking to you as well. Now I think that we should arrange to spend time together again. Also, when I'm in Thunderbird Five we can communicate by emails as we did last time but, if Dad agrees, then maybe we can chat via the satellite phones as well." He glanced down at her. "I'll miss you more than I did last time," he added.
"You will? Oh, John, I'm going to miss you so much as well. August will seem such a long month."
Then looking up at the darkening sky, where one or two stars beginning to appear, he remarked, "You know, tonight looks like the right conditions to stargaze, and view the comet."
Kat half-smiled, and said, "I'd love to spend the evening on the roof with you again."
They continued walking along the beach.
"Have you read any of the books I lent you?" she asked.
"Not quite," John admitted, "but I like mystery whodunits, and these medieval stories add an intriguing twist. I fully intend to read them all."
By now it was getting quite cold. Kat began to shiver, even though she was wearing her warmest sweater. Noticing her shiver, John took off his jumper and helped her put it on. As he did so, their hands touched. Kat giggled. It came down to her knees, and she had to roll up the sleeves. John laughed as well.
"You look so funny, Kat."
"Well, you're so tall," she replied.
"How about we go to the kitchen and make some hot chocolate to take with us on the roof?"
The pair headed back towards the villa. In the kitchen, John made two steaming mugs of chocolate and, handing one to Kat, they continued through the villa. They stopped at his room to enable him to grab a sweater, and then continued up onto the roof.
"The box is still here?" Kat sounded somewhat surprised.
"Yes, I knew you'd be back to have another look through the telescope," he replied.
Kat was glad that it was dark, and that he couldn't see how she coloured at his remark.
For the next hour, he pointed out to her the various constellations and the comet.
"There you are!" he said. "Now you can show your friends the comet."
Kat wrapped her arms around her. Noting this; John placed his arm around her shoulders.
"It's getting colder. I think we had better go back inside. I don't want you catching cold."
They went back inside the Villa and headed for the kitchen.
"How about another warm drink? It was very cold on the roof," John asked.
Kat nodded in agreement. "I'd love another hot chocolate, please."
Sitting in the kitchen, sipping their drinks, John remarked, "It was nice spending time together again. I intend to make sure that we have more time together before I leave for Thunderbird Five. Maybe we could meet after work one day."
"I should like that, John. I could cook you a meal?"
John smiled at her. "That's a date, then. I'll arrange to meet you after work, later in the week."
Having finished their drinks, he accompanied her back to her apartment.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1904 is a reply to message #1903] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:00 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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12:38 AM [/b]
Thunderbird Five -- Sunday, July 15th -- 10.00 pm, Tracy Island
Alan was bored. There was just no getting away from it. After the recent rescue carried out by the women of International Rescue, there had been no more calls for help. Time always dragged when there were no calls and, unlike his brother John, Alan wasn't a great reader, nor did he care to spend time looking through John's telescope. Those things just didn't interest him at all. He had carried out the usual checks for the day, and reported back to base that all was well and rather quiet.
He wished that someone would call him and have a chat with him. After all, there were all the new recruits; surely Brandon or Dom or even Nikki could have called him. Thinking of Nikki, he remembered some of the chats they had had together before he came up to the tin can. She definitely had her own views on the male population. He was looking forward to having more discussions with her when he returned to base.
Now, what to do? He turned on the satellite TV, and scrolled through the channels. To his delight he saw that the British Grand Prix was scheduled to start in half an hour's time. Great! That's something to watch! he thought to himself.
His boots clanking on the metal floor, he headed for the kitchen to fix himself something to eat. He needed something that would be tasty and quick to make. Grabbing the bread, he made himself a double decker sandwich of cheese, ham, tomatoes and pickle. Fetching a soft drink from the fridge, he went back and sat down in front of the screen to enjoy the race and his snack.
The commenter was holding interviews with many of the drivers and team managers. Alan was suddenly interested to learn that the British driver was only one point above the American driver, but the American driver had pole position. That makes the bet I have rather interesting, he thought.
Once the race started, it was excitement all the way. The race had to be stopped and re-started following a very bad crash on the first bend. There was some very dangerous and daring overtaking. But eventually the drivers settled down and the race continued without any more problems - until the penultimate lap.
The British driver was catching up the American driver, taking less and less time on the laps, until he was just behind the American. He tried to overtake on the inside of a bend, but completely lost control, and spun off into the sand at the side, hitting the tyre wall hard.
Alan couldn't believe what he was seeing. Ambulances and the marshals hurried to the crash, where smoke was coming from the smashed car. The scene returned to the race, and Alan watched as the American driver raced over the finishing line, a hand clenched above his head.
There seemed to be a wall of silence surrounding the British driver. Alan stayed tuned; he wanted to know what injuries the driver had suffered. Just as they were announcing that the British driver had broken his collarbone, both legs, suffered concussion, and would be out for the rest of the season, the satellite phone rang.
"Hi, Alan, have you been watching the race?" Gordon's voice sounded far away
"Yes, I have," Alan answered. "Pity about the British guy. I wonder if any of the others are watching the race?"
"Not sure. It's past midnight," Gordon replied.
"So, how're things back at base?"
"Oh, fairly quiet at the moment, although I played a trick on Brandon the other day. Just before Brandon began his lesson in Thunderbird Two, I placed a whoopee cushion on the pilot's seat. You should have seen his and Virgil's faces; it was priceless!" Alan laughed heartily. "That's typical of you, Gordon. But you ought to be careful, because eventually your jokes will backfire."
"No chance." Then Gordon continued. "There seems to be a certain coolness between Kat and Callie. That all started after John decided he was going to Thunderbird Five in August so Callie can spend her birthday with her family."
"Yeah, I got an email from John telling me of his decision. But why that should cause a problem, I've no idea. Maybe I'll find out once I'm back. You know, the worst thing of being up here is that I really miss Grandma's cooking. I can't wait to get home," Alan said.
After Gordon had terminated the call, Alan went to make himself another sandwich. He returned to the TV, and scrolled down the channels, seeing what else he could watch. He noticed that a French channel had a documentary on about the Follies. Grinning to himself, he sat down to watch. I wonder when the French Grand Prix is? I'd sure like to go, and see the Follies as well.
Two hours later, he woke with a start. Bleary-eyed, he looked around, wondering what had awakened him. He glanced at the dark screen. Damn, I fell asleep, he thought as he got up and went to check the main monitor console.[/size][/color]
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1905 is a reply to message #1904] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:02 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/25/2006 5:39 AM
Sunday, July 15, 10:00 a.m., Jacksonville, FL (3 a.m., Monday, July 16, Tracy Island time)
"So, who's supposed to be flying us to Grandma P's place?" Alex asked as they waited in the VIP lounge at the airport.
Tyler shrugged. "Don't know. I suppose it'll be a company plane. It usually is." He nudged Cherie, who was sitting with a drawing pad and pencil in hand, and her headphones on. "Hey, do you know who's flying us to Greenville?"
The teen shook her head emphatically. Tyler rolled his eyes, and sighed. Sisters! he thought mutinously.
Alex was peering out to the tarmac from where he sat, and now he got up to walk toward the tall glass windows. He frowned, squinting, then waved his brother to his side. When Tyler reached him, he pointed to a plane that was taxiing in toward their position. "Tell me; doesn't that look like Tracy One?"
Tyler peered out and his eyes grew big. "Yeah! It does. I think... it is! It's Tracy One! Woo Hoo!"
Cherie glanced up at her brothers who were giving each other high fives and jumping up and down. Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, she removed her headphones and went to them. "What is wrong with you two?" she snapped in a half whisper. "You're making fools of yourselves in front of everyone."
"Who cares!" Tyler cried. "Look! Just look! It's Tracy One!"
Cherie sighed heavily, repositioned her glasses, and looked out the window. A slow smile spread over her face and she cried, "You're right! It is Tracy One!"
"I wonder who's piloting," Alex said excitedly.
"I don't know, but I'm sure gonna be glad to see them!" Tyler vowed.
The jet taxied out of their sight, closer to the boarding ramp, so they couldn't see who got out. They waited impatiently, their bags ready, the boys' forms almost quivering with anticipation, and Cherie's eyes darting here and there. Finally the attendant opened the boarding ramp, and out strode...
"Scott!" Cherie cried, almost launching herself at her brother.
"Mom!" Tyler and Alex both shrieked, nearly tackling Dianne in delight. Elise came up behind her, amused and bemused by the reactions of the children. Alex caught sight of her and gave her a wide grin. "Hey, Miss Collins!"
"Hi, Alex," Elise responded, returning the grin.
"What are you doing here?" Cherie demanded of her mother, after giving her a hug. "Are we going home early?"
"Wait a minute!" Dianne turned to Elise. "Elise, could you please do the flight checks and make sure we're refueled? We aren't going far, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."
"Sure, Di... uh, Dr. Tracy," Elise said. Scott glanced at her quickly, frowning. "Need to earn my paycheck as pilot for Tracy Industries," she murmured to him.
His face cleared, his mouth opened in a whispered, "Ah," and he nodded in understanding. Elise gave him a jaunty salute and went off. She needed a restroom, first and foremost.
"Okay, here's the plan," Dianne said once she had her offspring's attention. "We are flying to Greenville as soon as we're loaded, refueled and have done the proper checks. Miss Collins, Scott and I will be staying overnight with you at Grandma P's, then we'll head out on Monday morning to get back to the island." She smiled at them, a touch wistfully, Scott thought. "We were in New Hampshire on business, and though I would have loved to stay there and do a little sightseeing, I wanted to see you more."
"So, we're still going to stay with Grandma for the week?" Cherie asked.
Dianne nodded. "Yes, and then we'll be out to pick you up next weekend, okay?"
Alex looked disappointed. "I was kinda hoping we could go right home."
Scott reached out and rubbed his brother's soft buzz cut. "Sorry, bud, but Grandma P. will want to see you and so will your friends." He glanced over at Dianne. "Besides, I think Mom and Dad are sorta looking forward to one final week without you three."
Dianne chuckled. "Come on, gang. Let's start getting all this... stuff gathered up so we can load it in the cargo bin and get underway. I don't know about you, but I'd like to get to Grandma's in time for lunch."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1906 is a reply to message #1905] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:03 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/25/2006 9:02 PM
Monday, July 16, 2068, 10 a.m., Tracy Island
"Phaugh!" Emily Tracy wrinkled her nose as she stepped into the empty apartment that had been Christopher Jordan's. "It smells like... cat."
"It seems that Durian has marked this as his territory," Kyrano said as he followed her in, pulling a maintenance float behind him. He shook his head. "I shall have to get the black light and find where the spots are. It will not be easy to deodorize the apartment."
"I'm sure he peed on the rug as well," Emily groused. "We'll have to order new."
"Which we should do in any case," Kyrano replied with a sigh. "I only hope it comes in a timely fashion. Mr. Tracy would like his new pilot, whoever they might be, settled in early in August."
"Right." Emily squared her shoulders. "Well, let's get to it. I'll open the windows to air the place out while you get the black light. Then we can determine what else needs doing."
Kyrano nodded, and headed back into the elevator. He could see that cleaning up for a new tenant would be a long job.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1907 is a reply to message #1906] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:05 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 5/25/2006 10:01 PM
Tuesday, July 17, 2068, 11:30 a.m., Tracy Island.
Elise shut off the jet's engines, and took off her headset. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see this island," she said.
Dianne rubbed the back of her neck as she removed her own headset, then stretched. "I'm sorry that our time away was so short," she said apologetically. "If you still need some more time off, we'll make arrangements for you to have it."
Elise looked thoughtful. "I don't know. Let's see how I do now that I'm back." She smiled at Dianne. "It was nice to spend a day with your family, though. I haven't really gotten to know the two older kids, though Tyler and I have had a couple of encounters. And your mother is a terrific cook."
"Thanks," Dianne replied with a smile. "I'm sure my mother enjoyed having you. The kids will either think that the week with Grandma is too short or too long. Depends on how many of their friends they get to see."
Scott popped his head into the cockpit. "Are you two ladies coming? There are a couple of people waiting out here to see you."
Dianne grinned and blushed, but Elise got up and pushed him back out into the cabin. "Just you let us finish our girl talk," she said. "We'll come out when we're good and ready."
Scott laughed, and headed down the steps. Elise came back into the cockpit, and Dianne asked, "How did you do over the ocean? How did you feel?"
Elise looked down at her hands. "I was nervous at first, especially when you asked me to switch places with you over the sea. But I remembered what you said about being in control... and I remembered the little trick Gordon played on me a couple of months ago." She glanced up at Dianne. "I knew I could do it. And eventually, I relaxed."
"Good. I think I noticed when you finally stopped gripping the controls so hard," Dianne replied. "You did very well."
"Yeah. I think I'm over the worst," Elise remarked.
Dianne shook her head slightly. "Don't assume that it's all gone and everything will be great and wonderful from now on. It takes time to get over such a deep-seated fear, and truthfully, you may never completely do so. But you've faced it; you know the whys and wherefores of it, and that gives you the tools for controlling the fear."
Elise thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "I understand. But I know I can control it, now. That makes a big difference." She looked out the window on the copilot's side. "I think that someone's looking for you."
Turning, Dianne saw a rather impatient looking Jeff outside, peering in through the window. She stuck her tongue out at him, and turned back to Elise with a wink and an impish grin. They giggled together like a couple of girls, then the door opened beside Dianne, and a second later, the one beside Elise did the same.
"C'mere, woman," Jeff growled as he pulled on Dianne's arm. The tug caught her off balance, and she practically fell into his arms. He placed her on the floor, and before she could make another move, he had fastened his lips on hers, much to her startled surprise.
On the other side, Virgil offered Elise his hand in assistance. She laughed, and took it with an exaggerated, "Why, thank you, kind sir!"
As she stepped out of the cockpit, he bowed elaborately. "My pleasure, m'lady." The play acting set them both to chuckling, then to laughing. "Let me give Scott a hand with the luggage, and you can tell me about the trip," he added.
She swept a hand through her hair, and nodded. As the men dealt with the cargo bay, Elise looked around the hangar, and over at Thunderbird Two sitting there on its hydraulic legs. She gave a long, satisfied sigh. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to get into the cargo carrier's pilot seat again.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1908 is a reply to message #1907] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:06 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 5/26/2006 12:41 PM
Canberra, Australia, July 18, mid morning (Tracy Island late morning)
In the departure lounge of Canberra Airport, King Bhumibol Adulyadej III of Thailand shook hands with the Australian Prime Minister. Beside him, his Queen Manya-Phathon chatted informally to the Australian Prime Minister's wife.
"This has been a good visit, Prime Minister," he said. "The relations between our two countries as well as the export and import situation will be much improved."
"I agree, Your Majesty," was the reply. "Ah. It looks as though your jet is ready for you to board," he added as one of the bodyguards approached. "Farewell, my friend. I will come visit you and your country very soon, to formalise our agreement."
"I look forward to that day," the king replied, then he and his entourage crossed the tarmac and boarded the aircraft. He went to the cockpit and spoke briefly to the pilot and co-pilot, then acknowledged the two members of the cabin crew before taking his seat, joining his wife and the others of his entourage who had already buckled themselves in. Once they were ready, the plane taxied to the runway and shortly took off. Their flight plan showed that they would head northwest, over the Malaysian peninsula and on to Bangkok.
xxxx
The Hood sat back, a satisfied smile on his face. He was in his temple, monitoring the news reports. He had been looking for a way to get close to International Rescue, and when he learned of the King's visit to Australia, a plan began to form. The jet's return trip would have it passing within a few miles of the temple hideout. This would make it simple to jam its systems, including communications, bringing it down. No one would be able to locate it -- except International Rescue. And that's exactly what he wanted. He continued to monitor transmissions between the jet and ground control, in order to be ready. As he waited, he verified that all the other elements of his plan were in place. He'd plotted this down to the last detail. Today he would learn more information about that infernal organisation, and soon have a way to bring it down, and obtain their technology.
It wasn't long before the transmissions made him realise it was time to put his plan into motion. He switched on the jamming controls, and waited.
xxxx
The cabin crew was just starting to bring round refreshments, when without warning the plane suddenly lurched. The 'please fasten your seat belts' sign came on and everyone complied.
"Probably turbulence, your Majesty," one of the bodyguards said.
But in the cockpit, the trouble was certainly not turbulence. The pilot struggled with the controls. Nothing was reacting. He looked at his co-pilot in horror.
"The controls are completely dead, nothing is working. We are descending completely out of control."
The co-pilot grabbed the microphone and called urgently, "Mayday, Mayday! This is King Bhumibol Adulyadej's private jet. We have lost control and are descending rapidly." He heard nothing but static in reply. "Mayday, Mayday! Can anyone here me?"
There was nothing. The two pilots looked at each other. "Whatever is affecting the controls has also caused communications to go out as well. We can't let anyone know we're in trouble."
"Is there no way we can glide the plane down?" The co-pilot said.
"Look where we are! We are flying over dense jungle. Where on earth can we land?"
xxx
The Hood went to an observation area at the peak of his temple hideout and began searching the skies with his binoculars. Soon he spotted the jet. He smiled evilly. Soon it will be down, and only a few kilometres from here. Once I know it has crashed, I will get into my disguise and be ready to go to the site as soon as I know International Rescue has arrived. He watched as the plane descended, until it was too low for him to see. But from his vantage point he heard the sounds of the crash and the animals frightened by it. He turned and headed back down to prepare.
xxxx
The pilot contacted the cabin crew and briefed them, giving orders to ready the passengers. The senior member then went to the front of the cabin and said, "Your Majesty, something has gone wrong with the controls and communications. We are going down. Please, everyone, make sure your seat belts are securely fastened and assume the crash position you have been shown."
The King looked out, the jungle was coming up to meet the plane at a frightening speed. "Allah preserve us! Everyone, do as you have been told! Now!"
There were screams and cries of "Allah, preserve us," repeating the king's exclamation. But everyone was used to instantly obeying any order he gave them, and they did what they were supposed to. The cabin crew quickly went to their seats and buckled themselves in. And, amid sobs and prayers, they waited.
The jet hit the upper canopy of the jungle nose first, with a savage jolt, and began to slide and scrape through large branches and thick vines. The noise of the branches on the metal was deafening. The plane came to a halt suspended a long way from the ground and listing over at a 30 degree angle. Birds flew away in all directions and there were screams and cries from both within the jet and outside. Finally there was an uncanny silence.
Malaysian disaster by Tawnyangel22 and Hobbeth
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1909 is a reply to message #1908] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:09 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: FrankieCTB2 Sent: 5/27/2006 1:51 PM
Tracy Island, July 18th.
As mornings go on Tracy Island, this one was turning out to be a pretty normal one. The weather had been cooler, so Gordon was griping about not being able to get his usual early morning laps swum. He was almost to the point of annoying two of his elder brothers.
"If it had been just a few degrees warmer at 5 a.m., I could've at least got 5 laps in! This is ridiculous! This body needs to be kept in shape guys!" he complained, rubbing his abs for emphasis.
Two sets of eyes rolled simultaneously. "For the tenth time, Gords, give it a rest!" Scott growled. He had been enjoying his newspaper and magazine while sitting in the lounge and listening to Virgil's soft melody wafting from the piano.
Gordon ignored him and paced over to Virgil, who suddenly became much more serious about what he was playing and averted his eyes to the sheets of music in front of him.
"Virge, you understand, don'tcha?" No reply came. "Virge? Are you even listening to me?"
The chestnut-topped head came up and Virgil stared at his sibling. "Yes, Gordon. I'm listening. Scott and are both listening. We've been listening for the past 15 minutes!"
Gordon noticed the increase in decibels as Virgil spoke, and decided with a huff that shutting up might be advantageous at this point. "Fine!" He replied. He then slumped down on the couch opposite Scott and tried to find a nautical magazine in the pile that was strewn over the nearby coffee table.
Scott looked up from the article he'd been reading. It was about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and possible new discoveries for treating it in certain cases. "Gords?" he asked.
The redhead looked up. "What? I didn't say anything!"
Scott sighed impatiently. "I know that, dork, I was going to ask you something about Elise."
At the mention of the pilot's name, Virgil stopped playing and now gave his attention to his brothers.
For a second, Gordon was thrown by Scott's statement. "What about Elise? She's okay, isn't she?"
"I think she will be, but I wanted to ask you about when you with her in New York. You accidentally came across Dad's chopper, didn't you?"
Gordon nodded. "Yeah, that was a shocker, I'll tell ya."
"What was her reaction to it?" Scott inquired.
"I thought you knew; why are you asking now?" Gordon now seemed more confused about where the conversation was going.
Scott shared the article he'd been reading with Gordon and Virgil, who'd now left his piano and was seated in a chair near Gordon.
"Ah, I see." Gordon said, now understanding. "She freaked Scott. I mean the girl almost flipped out on me."
"Define 'flipped out', Gordon!" Virgil asked, a little impatient with Gordon and his choice of words.
"Relax, will ya! She panicked, almost started to hyperventilate. I tried to calm her without frightening her more, but at one point it was like I wasn't even there. She was re-living the crash, I think." Scott nodded, understanding.
"Isn't that how she was in New Hampshire, Scott?" This came from Virgil, who was now concerned.
"Yeah, like I told you when we got back, her fear was incredible. I was shaken myself, having to re-live that night up there, but Elise was terrified." Scott looked at both of his brothers and spoke again "It wasn't just the crash, guys; her terror is real."
"What are you getting at, Scott?" Virgil asked worriedly.
"She's terrified of dying," came Scott's quiet reply.
"We've all gone through that! Every time we're out on a rescue!" Gordon stated. Scott and Virgil looked at him as if they were about to throttle him. "Now what?" the redhead asked.
"It's not the dying, it's dying ALONE. Elise watched her parents die alone; she barely survived, and was alone. She's had no real family to speak of. When she and Dad went down, she thought he was... well, dead." Scott found himself struggling to say it, even now, but he continued on. "She was alone in the chopper, miles from anywhere, no communication and was terrified of dying."
"She told you all this?" Virgil asked.
Scott looked into worried brown eyes. "No, Virge. Not exactly anyway. She'd said it out loud, but it was Mom who figured it out, that being alone and dying alone was Elise's real fear. She may still have a lot of healing to do, but now that we know what the fear is, we can help her."
Gordon had been listening intently and had come to his own conclusions about the information Scott had shared. "So, you're telling us that the fear is not the actual water, like we thought, but dying alone in it?" he asked.
"Or alone anyplace else, I guess." Virgil added.
Gordon continued, "If that's the case, then I can get her training with me in the water! Ah man, if only I'd known that this morning! If the water had been..."
"GORDON!" his brothers exclaimed.
Whatever else they were going to say was cut short by the wailing of the klaxon. The emergency signal sounded throughout the island. "Here we go," Virgil stated.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1910 is a reply to message #1909] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:12 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: TracyFan4Ever Sent: 5/28/2006 10:03 AM
******Wednesday, July 18, 2068, Tracy Island, around 11:45 a.m.******
Having received her new IR uniform, Callie was eager to try it on to see whether it was comfortable. She separated the uniform into its different pieces: vest, shirt, belt, hat, visor, pants, and boots (which were on the floor). "Well," she said, "time to see how good this will look on me."
After she undressed down to her underwear, she first grabbed the pants and noticed the color trim. "Neon Aqua, just like I chose." Putting them on, she felt the comfort. "So, this is what Penelar feels like. It's got a nice smooth feeling to it."
In his apartment, Brandon checked out the uniform he received a couple of days earlier. He fingered the sand-colored material, marveling at how it felt.
"Wow, Penelar feels just like silk," he said. He put the shirt over his head. "Perfect fit." Next he put on the vest and, going to the mirror, admired how the top fit his upper body.
Callie had put her boots on and then her belt. "Just a couple more pieces, and I'm good to go." She grabbed her shirt when she suddenly heard the alarm going off. "Oh, no...not again! I keep getting caught off-guard when that happens!" With no time to lose, she put her shirt on, then grabbed the vest and practically threw it over her shirt. "Emergencies never agree with me," she said as she rushed out of her apartment.
Brandon had just begun to try on the pants when the alarm went off. "Oh, crap!" Brandon exclaimed as the alarm went off. "Talk about lousy timing." He quickly finished putting on the pants. Grabbing the boots, he hopped around first on one foot and then the other, finally getting the boots on.
They joined the others in the monorail as Callie worked on getting her shirt tucked in and Brandon adjusted the belt buckle on his pants. "Trying out the uniform?" Dom asked.
"Yeah," Callie answered. "I was in the middle of putting on my shirt when the alarm sounded."
"The same thing happened to me, too, so don't feel bad." Brandon looked around. "I sure hope the Boss won't get all over us for looking ridiculous in uniform."
The monorail arrived at the lounge and, with Brandon in the lead, the group filed into the room and stood facing Jeff.
Noticing how disheveled Callie and Brandon were, Jeff nodded in acknowledgment and simply said, "Apparently you were both trying on your new uniforms."
"Yes, sir," said Callie.
"Well, don't worry about it." He suddenly noticed something not quite right with Brandon. "Brandon," he whispered, "your zipper."
Brandon looked down and noticed that his zipper was wide open. With everyone looking at him, his face turned three shades of pure red in embarrassment. "Oh, yeah, thanks, sir." He quickly turned around and tended to the matter before Alan started the briefing.
He looked around and noticed Gordon smiling slyly with a raised eyebrow. Oh, boy, he's seen it. I won't hear the end of this one anytime soon.
******Some fun before the seriousness by TracyFan4Ever and MagicMaster8.******
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1911 is a reply to message #1910] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:13 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 5/31/2006 11:07 AM
"Go ahead, Indy," Jeff said, as the mood became serious once again. "What has happened?"
"The jet belonging to the king of Thailand has gone down. He and his wife, as well as their retinue were in it. I was contacted to try to locate it, since none of the control towers in the area were able to. It took a while; there was some kind of interference that could easily prevent them from finding the plane, but not our instruments."
He sighed. "However, when I advised them of the coordinates, the man I was speaking to gasped, and said they would not be able to get anyone to go into that area. It seems that both people and vehicles have gone there, and were never seen again. Locals living nearby say it's cursed. They have asked for our help."
"You'd think that, by now, superstitions would be a thing of the past," remarked Dom.
"They've been around too long to ever disappear," Dianne replied. "But I never thought it would be the reason we'd be called out."
Jeff glanced up at her, then turned his attention back to his youngest son. "Do they have information on the number of people who are on the jet?"
Alan consulted his data padd. "Yes. Including the flight crew, there are twenty. And, from what I can tell, the jet isn't on the ground. The foliage is thick in that area, and the jet is fairly light for its size, so it appears to have gotten stuck in the trees. But I doubt it'll stay there."
"All right. Maverick, off you go. Get the coordinates from Indy once you are airborne."
"F-A-B, Boss." A moment later, he was gone.
"All right. We will need Thunderbird Seven, and the entire medical team. Van Gogh, take Pod Seven and load jet packs and the Mobile Crane into it. Quasar, Ursa, and Cousteau, I want you three to go. MGM, Frankie and Big Mac, you three may stand down. Indy, advise them that we are on our way."
"F-A-B. Thunderbird Five, out."
Those assigned to the rescue hurried off to be on their way as soon as they could. Brandon, still slightly red-faced and muttering to himself, left to change out of his uniform. The two women left together, Elise telling Kat that she half wanted to go, but was still tired from the trip and the time zone changes. Kat's reply was lost as they moved out of earshot.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1912 is a reply to message #1911] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:16 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/2/2006 9:21 PM
Wednesday, July 18, 8:20 a.m. local time, west of Ipoh, Malaysia (12:20 p.m., Tracy Island)
Scott's stomach growled as he flew over the jungle toward the coordinates that Alan had provided. "Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird One," he called into his boom mike. "What's your ETA?"
The answer that came back was garbled. "Thund... Two.... One... five minutes."
He frowned, and keyed the radio again. "Your transmission is breaking up, Thunderbird Two. Say again."
The reply was as garbled as before. "Thund... Two to... bird One... rep... plea... peat... break... repeat..."
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he toggled a switch. "Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird One. Come in, Thunderbird Five."
Alan's face appeared briefly before the monitor before Scott was awash with static. Scott cursed under his breath, and switched the feed to his visor. The same thing greeted his eyes, and he shook his head, transferring it back and switching to voice only. "Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird One, do you read me?"
In Thunderbird Five, Alan was startled to hear Scott's voice, garbled and dropping out in spots. "Thund... from... One, do..." He touched some switches, made some fine adjustments, and called back, "Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Five, say again. Your transmission is breaking up." This time, he got. "Thu... do you..."
He shook his head. Let's see if Virgil is having the same problem. "Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird Five. Do you read?"
"Thunderbird Two here." Virgil's voice and picture were clear and sharp. "Reading you four by four."
Alan frowned at that. He made a few more adjustments before answering. "I'm losing contact with Thunderbird One, Van Gogh. Can you reach him?"
Virgil shook his head. "Negative, Indy. I get a garbled signal from him, and the last contact I had indicated that he was getting the same on his end. Reminds me of that OD-60 interference."
"Hmm." Alan looked thoughtful. "This could be tied in with the loss of contact that the air traffic controllers reported, but I doubt it's from the same cause. I wonder how widespread it is, and if you'll be affected, too, once you come into range of the Danger Zone."
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" Virgil replied. "ETA to Danger Zone, now 40 minutes. I put our arrival time at 9:10 a.m. local."
"F-A-B, Van Gogh." Alan said. "I'll report this to base, see what the Boss has to say."
"F-A-B," Virgil replied. "Thunderbird Two, out."
His brother's face disappeared from the screen, and Alan switched over to his link to the island. "Base from Thunderbird Five, come in, Base."
Jeff's face appeared. "Base here, Thunderbird Five. Go ahead."
Alan took a deep breath and began. "Base, I've all but lost communication with Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Two reports getting a garbled transmission from One, as well. Van Gogh says it reminds him of the interference we had with the OD-60/alsterene combination. I wanted to inform you of the situation."
"We're aware of it," Jeff said. "We got a flash of static on Thunderbird One's visual, and some broken up audio as well. I've been trying to re-establish contact, but I'm having no luck." He paused for a moment, then added. "Have Thunderbird Two report to you every five minutes until they reach the Danger Zone. Let's see if this is a general interference, or something specific to Thunderbird One. And set it up on tri-circuit. I want to know what's going on."
"F-A-B, Base," Alan said. "Thunderbird Five on standby." He turned from the monitor and began to set up the tri-circuit contact. We'll get to the bottom of this.
xxxx
In his temple hideaway, the Hood smiled smugly at the readouts he was getting. The anti-aircraft scanner I... appropriated... is working well. I see that Thunderbird One has entered the airspace surrounding my temple. My communications jammer is fully operational, and by now, the rest of International Rescue should be scratching their collective heads over the sudden lack of contact. He checked his monitor screen again. Now to await the arrival of Thunderbird Two. Then I will set the next phase of my plan into action.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1913 is a reply to message #1912] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:18 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: FrankieCTB2 Sent: 6/4/2006 8:30 AM
Elise folded the last of her laundry and put it away. Walking back into the living room of her apartment, she slumped down on the sofa and picked up a magazine. After absently thumbing through it, she put it back down.
The rescue was on her mind and, if she was honest with herself, so was Virgil. She'd been wanting to thank him for the note he'd given her before she went to New Hampshire. Unfortunately, on this island, getting someone alone for a few minutes was sometimes impossible. Now he was out on a rescue!
Deciding she'd go nuts alone in her apartment, she headed for the villa. There she could at least listen in on things. Arriving in the lounge, Elise found Kat and Brandon must have had the same idea, for they were both there.
Jeff looked up from his desk, also known as command center during a rescue. "Couldn't stay away, huh?" he asked with a smile.
"It's too quiet in my apartment, besides I like knowing how they're all doing."
Jeff nodded, understanding. Just as Elise sat down, Mrs. Tracy came in holding - and trying to calm - a very frustrated little boy.
"Oh, hush there, little Josh; all this fussin' ain't doin' you any good," Grandma crooned. It didn't work. Joshua let another wail. Jeff looked up, giving his mother a frustrated look of his own.
"Is he hungry? Maybe some of your wonderful cooking will help him," Jeff offered hopefully.
"We just came from the kitchen, and the way he ate reminded me of Scott at that age. The entire plate was clean! He's just fussin' 'cause his daddy is away." As they were talking, Joshua calmed down to just a sniffle and squirmed out of Grandma's arms. She put him down and he toddled off to find the toys that Dom had brought with them earlier. "See, he's found something to keep him occupied."
"I hope so, Mother, as it seems we're having some communication problems, and we're barely hearing some things as it is. A baby with the 'terrible twos' isn't going to help if I can't hear what does come through!" Jeff sounded irritated; something that didn't go unnoticed by Brandon, Kat and Elise as they exchanged looks.
"I'll play with him if you like," Kat offered.
"Thank you, dear; that would be a real help," Grandma replied.
As Kat got on the floor to play with Josh, Jeff called Alan... again. "Base calling Thunderbird 5.
Alan answered immediately, and as his portrait sprang to life, the occupants of the lounge could see the irritation on the blond's face. He got straight to the point. "Still not connecting, Boss, I've tried all the frequencies continually; I'm not sure what the problem is. I raised Maverick twice but he faded out too quickly. It's like something is jamming the signals."
Jeff became more irritated. "Well keep trying, Indy! We've got to establish consistent contact! I'll have Brains check things from this end. Base out."
"FAB." Alan disappeared again.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1915 is a reply to message #1913] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:25 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 6/4/2006 2:07 PM
The Malaysian Peninsular
The interior of the plane was in partial darkness, with the dense foliage of the jungle causing an eerie glow, giving the occupants an almost unearthly appearance. The only lights visible were the tiny safety lights running along each side of the aisle. It was hot: unbearably, stiflingly hot, as the air conditioning had ceased to operate. Mosquitoes were buzzing around, having gained access through the smashed windows. There was a very real danger of snakes and spiders gaining access in the same way.
The senior bodyguard - drenched with perspiration and trying to swat the annoying, biting insects - cautiously inched his way along the aisle towards the king and his wife. With every movement he made, no matter how slight, the plane moved, as vines and branches began to give way under its weight.
"Your Majesty," he whispered, "her majesty's maid is unconscious. The other three bodyguards are conscious, but I have asked them not to move about for fear they will cause the plane to fall further. The members of the Thai press are conscious as well."
The king looked at his wife. She seemed to be sleeping, but there was a nasty cut over one eye.
Glancing around he thought to himself Will we be found? With all communications failed, how will anyone know where we are?
The king was trying to rid himself of mosquitoes when the queen moaned slightly. Opening her eyes, she stared at her husband in disbelief. "We are still alive?" she whispered.
"Yes, my dear, but I fear that others may not have been so lucky."
"Do you think we'll be rescued?"
"I feel sure that someone will find us, my dear. Are you in pain?"
"A little, my love. My neck is very stiff and sore, and I have a very bad headache."
"Then just try to keep still and rest," the king said gently.
Some monkeys, out of sheer curiosity, began clambering on the plane. Their angry, noisy chatter startled the occupants. One large and bolder monkey managed to gain access through the smashed windows in the cockpit.
In the front of the cabin, the two cabin crew were sat motionless in their seats. Seeing the monkey, the young woman began to shriek in terror. The monkey bared its teeth and shrieked back at her. The members of the Thai press were beginning to panic.
One young female member of the press began shrieking. "I don't want to die! Not here! Not now!"
"For the love of Allah, Solada, sit still and hold your tongue!" one of the translators shouted angrily. "Sudden noise may well encourage other creatures to investigate us and the more movement we make, the greater danger there is of the plane crashing to the ground."
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he called. "She will be still from now on."
The impact had caused hand luggage, cameras, books, and brief cases to be strewn among the passengers. Bhichai, the PR staff member, had been knocked out by a laptop that had been sent flying during the impact. Nataya, the Queen's secretary, was trying to reach her briefcase, which had fallen into the aisle. Suddenly, she realised that she had a nasty gash the length of her arm, which was bleeding and attracting the mosquitoes. Trying to fight down the feeling of nausea and, at the same time, swatting the persistent insects, she collapsed back into her seat. Pairat, the King's secretary, took off his jacket and placed it over her arm, in an attempt to keep the insects away.
The bodyguard continued along the aisle and reached the cockpit. Both the pilot and co-pilot were dead. The impact of the plane crashing into the upper canopy had caused the front of the plane to be pushed in with such a force that the control console had crushed the two men. There was just a mangled heap of switches, dials, bodies and shards of glass.
Averting his eyes and trying not to be ill, the bodyguard returned to the king. "I'm sorry to report that both pilots are dead, Your Majesty."
The king spoke to the conscious passengers. "We must all remain calm, we are in the hands of Allah. I feel sure that the authorities will find us." And before it is too late, he thought to himself.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1917 is a reply to message #1915] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:43 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 6/4/2006 2:30 PM
Tracy Island, early afternoon
After the rescuers had left, Kat began to follow Elise. Then having another thought, she turned and headed to the kitchen, to see if she could be of help. But seeing that Kyrano was making a meal, obviously for Jeff, and Grandma was giving Josh his lunch, she headed back to the lounge to sit in and listen to the rescue.
She hadn't been there long before Brandon entered the lounge.
"Looks like we have the same idea," he said.
Some time later, Elise entered the lounge.
"Couldn't stay away, huh?" Jeff asked with a smile
"It's too quiet in my apartment, besides I like knowing how they're all doing," she replied, sitting down next to Kat.
At that moment, Grandma and Josh came into the lounge. Josh was obviously going through the terrible twos stage. He was restless and miserable, and Grandma was doing her best to calm him down.
"Mother, we are having communication problems; we can barely hear anything. I hope you can keep him occupied."
Noticing the irritation on Jeff's face, Kat realised that Josh was obviously not in a mood to be quiet.
"I'll play with him," she offered
"Thank you, my dear; that would be a real help," Grandma replied.
Jeff made contact with Alan. "Base calling Thunderbird Five."
"Hey, Josh. Look at all your cars, shall we play with?" Kat said, kneeling down and pushing a car along the floor.
For a while Josh began to play with his cars, then he stood up.
"Want Daddy," he said.
"Hmm, well, Daddy is busy right now. Would you like to go for a walk?" Kat said, holding out her hand.
But Josh ran past her, screaming. "Want Daddy! I want my Daddy!"
Jeff looked irritated at the sudden noise, and Grandma and Elise tried to stop him.
He ran on towards the veranda doors. As Kat reached him, he began to cry; his little face crumpled up. She suddenly felt sorry for him.
"Hey, Daddy won't be long. Shall we go and watch a cartoon?"
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1918 is a reply to message #1917] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:44 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 6/4/2006 3:09 PM
"Mrs Tracy, would it be okay, if I took Josh to watch a cartoon?"
"Yes, of course, my dear. I'm sure you'll find a few in the cinema." Grandma replied.
"Ice cream?" Josh asked hopefully.
Kat smiled at him. "I'm sure that Kyrano will be able to find us some ice cream." Taking Josh's hand, Kat led him out of the lounge. "Now, Josh, let's try and find some cartoons."
As they left, Grandma smiled to herself, and mentally thanked Kat for taking care of him.
In the cinema, Kat was looking through the films. Josh was toddling around picking up films and bringing them to her. "Hmm, can't find any here. Wait a minute; here are some Mickey Mouse and Pluto cartoons. Shall we watch those?"
"Ice cream?" Josh asked.
Kat laughed at him. "Okay, Josh, let's go and ask Kyrano."
In the kitchen, Kyrano filled two bowls with ice cream. Kat carefully carried the bowls back to the cinema, Josh insisting on carrying the spoons.
Kat put the cartoons on, and Josh sat down beside her, eating his ice cream.
"Finished," he said, handing her the empty bowl. She placed it on the adjacent seat and Josh scrambled on to her knee. Kat was amused to note a few minutes later that the little boy was fast asleep, his head resting on her shoulder. Deciding to let him sleep, she watched the rest of the cartoon, wondering how the rescue was going.
It was some time later that she carried the sleeping young boy back into the lounge. Grandma took Josh from Kat and carried him to her suite.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1919 is a reply to message #1918] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:46 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/4/2006 9:17 PM
Wednesday, July 18, 2068, 8:35 a.m., west of Ipoh, Malaysia (12:35 p.m. Tracy Island)
"Damn."
Scott was frustrated. He'd barely been able to raise Thunderbird Five twice since he'd entered the area, and his communication with Thunderbird Two had stopped for a while as well. He found he could receive no downloads, and he needed more precise coordinates to find the plane he was looking for. So, for the time being, he was relying on the thermal imager - which was also proving to be less than reliable - and his eyes.
"Hm. There seems to be a cut of some sort in the foliage ahead," he muttered to himself. "The imager is registering a much warmer mass..." He flew over it carefully, and was rewarded with the glint of metal. "Yes!" he cried. "Found it!"
He swung around and passed over the area again, recording the coordinates. "Let's see if I can raise Alan, or even Virgil, and pass these numbers on," he murmured. "Maybe some height would help."
Thus saying, he took his Bird straight up, 1000, 2000, 3000 meters and more, all the while listening for any communication on the IR frequency.
At last the annoying, everlasting static resolved itself into words. "...do you read? Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird Five, do you copy?"
"Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird One," Scott said crisply. "Do you copy?"
Alan all but pounced on the communications panel. "Thunderbird Five here. Go ahead, Thunderbird One."
"I have the coordinates of the downed plane. I still can't get through to Thunderbird Two, so I'd like you to pass them along."
"Sorry, Maverick," Alan's face appeared on the tiny screen in Scott's visor. "We've lost communication with Two the same way we had with you. How'd you counter the jamming, anyway?"
"Is it jamming?" Scott asked, looking thoughtful. "I wasn't sure. In any case, I gained altitude and must have come out of whatever field is doing this. I'm uploading the coordinates now."
"Thunderbird One from base," Jeff's picture on the visor grew as Alan's shrank to half its size, and his father's voice sounded in Scott's ear. "What is your status?"
"I'm currently holding at 10,000 meters above the Danger Zone. The plane is lying on its side in the upper canopy of the jungle. One of the wings seems to have sheared off in the crash; I have no idea if the other is intact or not. It's a pretty remote spot west of the town of Ipoh. I'll be looking for a clearing nearby the crash site big enough for both One and Two to set down in."
"F-A-B, Maverick." Jeff nodded. "You should be aware that we only have sporadic contact with Thunderbird Two, but its ETA to the Danger Zone is roughly now. Also, we've been informed by the Thai and Australian governments that the King's plane is flying with a load of an experimental fuel. You'll need to get Ursa onto figuring out how to deal with it. Rho has some specifications to upload to Five, then down to you."
"Standby for the download," Alan said.
"F-A-B." The computer screen showed a file automatically downloading to Thunderbird One's computer's buffer. "File received," Scott told him.
Jeff continued. "Since we have only sporadic contact, and the jamming seems to be a man-made occurrence, you need to be on high security alert."
"F-A-B, base. Will do." Scott looked at his watch. "Need to get back to the Danger Zone, base, and find Thunderbird Two. If we cannot regain communications, I will report again in one hour."
"F-A-B, Thunderbird One. Get in there and be careful. Base out." Jeff's picture winked out and Alan's grew back to its original size.
"Be careful out there, Maverick, and don't forget your bug repellent." Alan smiled and winked at him.
"Like I would, Indy," Scott replied, rolling his eyes. "Back to report in one hour. Keep trying to raise Two for me."
"F-A-B, Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Five on standby."
Alan's picture disappeared, and Scott sighed. "Back to the jungle," he muttered as he aimed the nose of his craft Earthward again.
xxxxx
The bodyguard who had crawled the length of the plane to reconnoiter had seated himself in a spot where he could look to the sky. The local monkeys crossed back and forth over the small cabin window, and the bird droppings were covering it as well. Suddenly, a shadow passed over, and the bodyguard gasped.
"What? What is it?" called the king.
"I do not know. It might have only been a cloud..." His voice trailed off as the shadow passed over again, and as he could hear the noise of powerful engines over the noise of the monkeys. The tree tops shifted with the passing of the craft, and he see the dull gray of shadowed fuselage. There was hope in his voice as he called, "It has returned. It is an aircraft of some kind, passing slowly overhead. We have been found! We have been found!"
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1920 is a reply to message #1919] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:47 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: ArtisticRainey Sent: 6/5/2006 1:50 AM
"Damn interference," Virgil muttered as he tried the radio again. "Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird Two, do you copy? Come on..."
As Thunderbird Two hovered over the leafy canopy, the dulled sounds of the jungle pressed against the cockpit. The treetops swayed slightly under the influence of the jets.
"Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird Two, come in Indy. Thunderbird Five from Thunderbird Two...dammit..."
"At least we know we're in the right area," Gordon said, "so we'll be there in no time once we know exactly where." He cocked his head to the side with a thoughtful look. "That was a mouthful, wasn't it?"
"Sure was. I'm surprised you got it out," John said. He stood up, and started towards the comms panel. "I'll try --" but whatever John was going to say was cut off.
"Thun-bird Two -om -derbird One. Do you --py? C-me in Th-erbird Two."
"Thunderbird Two here. Receiving you strength two. What are the co-ordinates?"
They received nothing but static. Around the cockpit, there were worried glances.
"Repeat, Thunderbird One."
They received more static.
"Repeat, please."
"...damn st-tic... co-or-nates--"
After a few more tries, John managed to make out what they hoped were the right co-ordinates. The area was a mere half a mile from where they were already.
"FAB, Thunderbird One. We're on our way."
Virgil closed the comm. channel, and the cessation of static brought relief to the ears of all present. In a matter of moments they could see Thunderbird One, and below, the wreckage of the plane hanging in the treetops.
"That does not look safe," Gordon said.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the plane lurched downwards deeper into the foliage, and there was a collective yell.
"All right, let's get to it," Dianne said crisply, her eyes widened but steely.
Virgil nodded, and began looking for a place to set his Bird down, so they could get on with helping the trapped.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1921 is a reply to message #1920] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:49 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/6/2006 12:37 PM
"Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Two." Virgil called, but didn't hope for any cessation of interference, even though he was hovering over the clearing where Thunderbird One was already parked.
"Thunderbird One here! Man, it's good to hear you clearly, Van Gogh!" Scott sounded tremendously relieved.
"Same here, Maverick! Looks like we'll be able to communicate locally, even if we can't get through too well on a long-distance basis."
"Right. You'd better get down here so we can reconnoiter the situation. I've had a look, but I'll need some other eyes and opinions on how to approach this. It's going to be a tricky one."
"F-A-B." Virgil turned to his passengers. "Better strap in. This may be a bit bumpy."
"Yeah, right," Gordon said, buckling himself in. "Bumpy to you is perfectly fine to the rest of us."
Virgil ignored his brother's grousing, and scanned the clearing below. He moved forward a few meters, then turned the orientation of his 'Bird slightly to the east. Then he fired the VTOLs and began to slowly descend.
"Van Gogh, you need to move right right two degrees," came Scott's voice. "You're heading for a moss-covered boulder."
"F-A-B," Virgil replied, turning his craft the required amount. He checked the foliage on either side, and was satisfied that he wouldn't be touching any of the trees with Two's wings. Finally, he cut the VTOLs and they were down.
" 'A bit bumpy', he says," Dom said with a grin as he unbuckled himself. "If I were at the controls, you'd all know what bumpy really is!"
"You'd do fine, Dom," Virgil said, as he finished the shut down procedures. "I felt a quiver go through her, and to me, that's bumpy."
"Perfectionist," Gordon muttered.
"Enough," Dianne said with a smile. "Let's get going. Dom, Nikki, you're with me."
"Van Gogh to Maverick," Virgil said as he transferred his communications to his earpiece. "Where to you want us?"
"Before we can haul out any equipment, we'll need to take a look at this from the ground and from the air. You, Cousteau and Quasar come over to me and we'll reconnoiter. Ursa can stand by on the crane; she's going to need it. I heard from Five that the plane was carrying an experimental fuel, so she'll need to get close to the wings. Once we look at things from the ground, we can use the jet packs to get up closer. One of the medical crew should go with us at that point to get a look at the passengers."
"F-A-B," Virgil replied. He ducked into the crews' quarters and pulled off his new vest and shirt. "Too bad we've got to christen these things with bug repellent," he said as he joined John and Gordon in smearing a colorless gel over his arms, neck and face.
"Uh, guys?"
The three Tracys looked up to see Callie standing in the door, blushing and trying to look anywhere but at them.
"Ah, oh, sorry, Callie." John smiled and held out a fresh tube. "It's an insect repellent. Hypoallergenic and guaranteed to work on any bugs, under any conditions. I guess you'd better go into the sickbay and put it on."
"Yeah. Uh, thanks." She grabbed the tube and quickly disappeared.
Gordon snorted a laugh. "One of the drawbacks of having a mixed team."
"I dunno, Gords," Virgil said conversationally as he rubbed the cream around his ears. "I can think of a couple of women who might find the sight of us shirtless to be rather... uh... stimulating."
"Oh? And who might that be?" Gordon asked teasingly, looking specifically at John.
"I'm sure I wouldn't know," John replied, giving his younger brother a glare through narrowed eyes. He looked down at his royal purple shirt. "Personally, I think that mosquitoes are going to find it tough going through this Penelar fiber."
"Yeah, but in this weather, long sleeves are pretty useless," Virgil said as he pulled his short sleeved shirt on again. "Thus, the repellent." He glanced at Gordon. "Why have you got your pants off?"
"I'm taking off the lower part and wearing shorts," Gordon explained as he smeared his legs with gel. "No long pants for me. The boots are tall enough to repel any snakes, and I'll be cooler with just shorts."
"Man, I'm glad this new uniform is so versatile," John said. "But I'm sticking with the pants unless I get really, really hot."
"Enough chatter, guys." Virgil finished fastening his vest and put a small tube of repellent into one of the pockets. "Let's grab our new sun helmets and get out of here."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1922 is a reply to message #1921] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:54 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/6/2006 2:02 PM
"Damn, it's hot out here!" Virgil had raised Thunderbird Two's chassis away from the pod, and had left the pod through the smaller access door. They were in the shade of the cargo carrier, but the sticky heat still hit with all its force.
"Hate to see what this is going to be like come afternoon," John observed, looking at his watch.
Gordon lifted his sun helmet, its orange trim showing brightly against the pale gray, and wiped his brow. "My hair's already sweaty." He started rolling the short sleeves of his shirt up to the shoulder.
Scott came over to meet them. "Good to see you." He led them out from under Thunderbird Two, and pointed upwards into the trees. "You can just make out the plane from here. One of the wings has sheared off already; I'll show Callie where it is. I'm not sure of the other wing's condition. I couldn't get close enough to see without possibly knocking the plane down further with my VTOLs."
"Well, let's get a look at it from down here, then we can go upstairs to get a better look," John said.
"Right. You two take the port side; Virge, you come with me. Watch out for snakes!"
"F-A-B!" Gordon said cheerily as he and John moved off into the trees.
Scott and Virgil moved together into the darkness of the jungle foliage, stepping carefully and glancing up once or twice to be sure of their bearings. They pushed vines out of the way, and Scott was glad for the Penelar work gloves that were now a part of the uniform. The bugs swarmed around them, but didn't bite.
"There it is," Virgil said, looking upward. "That wing looks pretty dicey. Wonder how much fuel they've used?"
"Considering the distance they've flown, and the probable size of those tanks, I'd say there's probably a quarter tank left. Maybe a bit more." Scott picked up a branch. "The crash sure took a lot of branches; this is freshly broken." He tapped his earphone. "What have you got over there, Quasar?"
John's voice sounded in both Scott and Virgil's ears, and in the ears of those back in the pod. "The plane is turned about a quarter way on to its side. The port wing has broken off, the starboard wing..."
His voice was cut off by the sudden sound of creaking, shearing metal, and a crashing of branches. Virgil looked up, his eyes widening.
"Scott!" he shouted. "Look out!"
Before Scott could look up, Virgil had tackled him, taking him deep into the undergrowth and away from the wing that crashed down through the trees behind them. The wing fell heavily with a loud noise and a rain of branches.
"Arrgh!"
His ears ringing from the noise of the crash, Scott didn't hear his brother's cry of pain, but as he tried to get up, he found Virgil still lying atop him, his teeth gritted.
"Virge! Virgil!" he cried, shaking his brother by the shoulders. "What's wrong?! Maverick to Doc! We have a man down!"
"F-A-B!" Dianne's voice sounded in his ear. "Where are you?"
John and Gordon came running over. "Scott? Virge?" John asked, reaching for Virgil. "What happened?"
Gordon looked upwards, then back down at his brother. "Looks like a branch came down..."
"My leg!" Virgil tried to pull his knee up to his chest with his hands, grimacing in pain. Some more branches fell, and the three uninjured Tracys practically threw themselves over the injured one to shield him.
"Where are you?" Dianne's voice became more insistent. "We can't get to you if we don't know where you are!"
Scott looked up at Gordon. "Go, and bring them here - but be careful! There's no telling how much more is going to come down!"
"F-A-B!" Gordon said. He looked upward, then headed towards the clearing, moving carefully and ducking low.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1923 is a reply to message #1922] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:56 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: FrankieCTB2 Sent: 6/7/2006 6:24 PM
Tracy Island.
"Base from Thunderbird Five."
"Go ahead, Alan."
"I've managed to re-route the signal to a different frequency, overriding the jamming that caused the communications shutdown on 'One and 'Two. You should be able to hear feed back from the headsets and wristcomms, but I can't guarantee it'll be clear."
The occupants of the lounge, Brandon, Kat, Elise, Grandma and Jeff all exchanged worried glances.
"Okay, Indy, switch it through. We'll take what we can get," Jeff replied.
Alan got busy and looked as if he'd been frantically trying to get communications up and running for some time. "Okay, try it now, Boss."
"F.A.B. Thunderbird One from Base. Calling Thunderbird One from Base..."
Static came back as an answer. Jeff exhaled, and tried again. "Thunderbirds One and Two from Base..." If Scott couldn't answer, maybe Virgil could.
Brandon spoke quietly to Elise. "How bad do you think it's going to get? I mean without radio contact, we've no idea what's going on down there."
"I know, the dense jungle is no place to lose contact with your crew or base. I only hope they can 'talk' to each other. Maybe in close proximity, it's not a problem."
They both turned their heads towards Jeff as he muttered, "Dammit!" and continued to try to call. He was mid-sentence in calling Thunderbird One again when the static broke and voices came through. They weren't clear, as Alan had said they might not be, but Jeff took what he could get.
"The plane is turned ... ab ... quarter way ... side ... port wi... broken ... starboard..." More static cut off John's voice.
"Quasar? This is Base. Can you read me?" Jeff waited impatiently for a reply that didn't come. Elise and Brandon moved closer to the desk to hear better. Suddenly, the static broke again.
"Scott! ... out!" There was a loud crackling and muffled sounds on top of the static.
Elise leaned forward in her seat. "That was Virgil! Scott's in trouble."
"Oh my." Grandma's soft voice came from a few feet away. Elise and Brandon had momentarily forgotten she was still in the lounge.
"I'm sure everything will be okay, Mrs. Tracy." Brandon tried to reassure her. "Here, come and sit down, so you can hear better." He offered his seat and she sat down near her son. Jeff muttered something to her and she seemed to relax a little.
Elise started to worry. It wasn't like Scott to put himself or any of the team in harm's way; and why was Virgil yelling? The feedback had returned to static.
Jeff immediately raised Thunderbird Five "Indy! What the hell is going on down there? We've lost the feed back again."
"I know Da ... Boss! ... I've got it recording up here, I'll transfer the rest of it to you." Alan was beginning to sound frustrated. He'd obviously heard the exchange between his brothers on the ground and not knowing who was injured and how badly, was not helping his attitude or his attempts at staying calm. He activated a switch and the radio on Jeff's end sprung to life again.
"Scott! ...out!"
"Arrgh ... "
Elise was on her feet, "Oh my God, that's Virgil!" Jeff glanced at her, thinking the same thing, though he didn't show it or say it.
"Maverick to Doc! We have ... man...down!"
"Jeff! Who is it? Oh my!" Grandma demanded as she heard the exchange.
"Mother, calm down; the boys will be okay." He paged Kyrano to come and assist in calming the distraught Mrs. Tracy. His wise friend knew just how to make her feel at ease. Hell, he knows how to make us ALL feel at ease. Jeff thought. Kyrano came instantly to the lounge and comforted Jeff's mother.
"Are you sure that was Virgil?" Brandon asked Elise.
She glared at him as if he'd grown two heads. "Yes! Of course I'm sure it was him. I'd know Virgil's voice anywhere!" She was now on her feet and pacing slightly. "Mr. Tracy, can you confirm who's down?" she asked nervously.
"I'm trying Elise, I'm trying," Jeff answered without looking at her, but continuing to work on restoring communications with Alan.
Elise sat back down again but was nervously fidgeting. When had Virgil suddenly become so important to me? Scott's my friend, and I treasure that friendship, especially after recent events, but Virgil? She thought about the note he'd written and how his words had given her strength and comfort. She'd been trying to thank him, but hadn't had the chance. Now he might be seriously injured. An uneasy feeling settled in her gut.
Although he was busy with Alan, Jeff hadn't let Elise's worry about his second eldest son go unnoticed. He filed the information away for later. Right now, he was worried enough about Virgil himself. As his youngest tried to fix the communications, Jeff tried to reach Dianne.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1924 is a reply to message #1923] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:57 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/7/2006 9:11 PM
The Hood watched the approach of Thunderbird Two with interest. He peered through his long range binoculars and watched as the cargo carrier slowly descended into the clearing near where the plane crashed.
"Good," he muttered to himself. "They are here. I know where they have landed, and I must make my way there to see who and what they have brought with them. Then I can choose one of them to spirit away and interrogate at my leisure."
He descended into the cooler portions of his hideout from the tall pagoda spire that was his physical lookout post. He was sure that the temple was well hidden; he had kept for himself the jamming technology he had stolen years ago. And though the spire projected up high enough for him to see, the entire complex looked overgrown and dilapidated from the air... should anyone be able to glimpse it as their aircraft went down, courtesy of the electrical disruptor that he had used on the king's plane. He had turned it off during the Thunderbirds' approach; he had no desire to crash the crafts he so coveted, or kill those who would provide him with the information he sought.
But the communications dampening field was on, and at full power. He knew from the readings that International Rescue was trying to break through it from wherever they had set up their communications relays and equipment. The dampener was set to analyze and counter those attempts as they occurred. The Hood had no fears that International Rescue's base would be in clear contact with their operatives any time soon.
He tied a cloth around his head, and adjusted his camouflage clothing. It was too hot to wear one of his special masks; though the heat near Lake Anasta had been just as fierce, it had been dry, and thus bearable. So instead of fitting on a mask, he smeared black, green and brown greasepaint on his face, covering as much skin as possible and giving his face an almost animal-like appearance. Looking in the mirror, he surveyed his work, and nodded. "That will do," he murmured. "Even if I am seen, it will be difficult to recognize me or give pursuit. Even the engineer would not know me in this makeup."
So saying, he left his temple by a secret passage, driving a vehicle through a long tunnel that usually took him to the sea, and his submarine. But part of the way there, he stopped, and crawled up through a hidden ventilation and access space, one of several that followed the track of the tunnel. It brought him up within a kilometer of his target, and he moved silently off into the jungle to catch his prey unawares.[/color]
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1925 is a reply to message #1924] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:58 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 6/8/2006 3:07 PM
After Virgil, Gordon and John left to reconnoitre the area and try to locate the plane, Nikki and Dom finished a final check of Thunderbird Seven.
"Do we have insect repellent?" Dom asked,
"Yes," Dianne replied, "we have some hypoallergenic gel guaranteed to kill all bugs in all conditions," and she handed them both a tube.
Nikki and Dianne smeared the gel over their arms, necks and faces, before replacing their shirts. After they finished, and had gone outside again, Dom took his shirt off and rubbed the gel on to his exposed skin before replacing his shirt and joining the women. The mosquitoes immediately began to buzz around them angrily, but the repellent gel certainly did the trick.
Once outside, the heat hit them like the inside of an oven.
"Gosh," Nikki remarked, "how are we ever going to work in this heat?"
All around them the jungle seemed to close in. The trees were twisted round each other. Large vines wrapped themselves around the trees and each other. Large fern-like plants were everywhere, hiding the floor of the jungle. Colourful birds flew among the trees, shrieking and squawking. High up in the canopy, out of sight, the monkeys chattered noisily.
"You know I can quite see why the locals are superstitious," Callie remarked. "This place is giving me the creeps already."
"I think we ought wait back inside Thunderbird Seven, out of this intense heat until we get more information from Maverick," Dianne remarked.
Just as they were about to return to Seven, "Maverick to Doc! We have a man down!"
"Where are you?" Dianne replied.
Nikki, Dom and Callie all looked concerned.
"I wonder who's hurt?" Callie said.
"Where are you?" Dianne sounded more insistent. "We can't get to you if we don't know where you are!"
"Maverick to Doc. I'm sending Cousteau back to fetch you."
"F-A-B," Dianne replied. "We'll be ready."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1926 is a reply to message #1925] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 19:59 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/10/2006 12:06 PM
Nikki looked to Dianne once she heard that they had a man down. "Doc, would you like me to go and tend to whoever is hurt?"
Dianne blew out a breath before answering. She knew that there was always a possibility of one of the team getting injured, but the reality of still affected her, no matter what the injury. "Nikki, please grab the med kit; we'll go together once Gordon has arrived."
"F-A-B," Nikki replied before leaving to grab what was required.
Dominic tapped his fingers against his thigh as he waited and thought about the so-called curse the locals believed in. The curse isn't real. It's just a superstition. That has nothing to do with this new incident, he thought. Dom acknowledged Nikki when she returned and smiled when he saw Gordon steadily running towards them.
xxxxx
Virgil grimaced at the throbbing pain in his leg. He tried to hide the pain he was feeling by lightening the mood slightly. "We've been here for less than 15 minutes and I get injured. Typical."
Scott laid his hand on Virgil's shoulder. He knew what his brother was doing. "Maybe you should've let me take the fall."
"Humph, I'll remember that next time," Virgil replied.
Scott smiled as he stood up from his crouched position. "John, you stay with Virgil and wait for Gordon to return with Doc. I want to check the surrounding area; make sure it's safe for them."
John nodded when he answered, "F-A-B," before taking up Scott's vacated position.
xxxxx
Nikki gripped the medical equipment in her hand when she saw Gordon approaching.
"What's the situation, Gordon?" Dianne asked when her stepson arrived.
"A branch came down on Virgil injuring his leg."
Dianne extended her arm in the direction Gordon just came from. "Lead the way."
"F-A-B, but we need to be careful as we make our way there." Gordon turned and led the medical staff back to his fallen brother.
Callie called out once they left. "I hope he'll be ok."
"I'm sure he will," Dominic answered back. He wondered how bad Virgil's injury was and if it would restrict him from flying Thunderbird Two back to base.
written by Nikki-browneyes1
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1927 is a reply to message #1926] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:00 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 6/10/2006 12:30 PM
Stumbling through the dense undergrowth, and at times ducking to miss the trees and vines, they hadn't been walking very long when Nikki gasped, "I thought I saw something move; over there behind those trees."
"It's probably an animal, Angel," Dom said lightly, but at the same time not wanting to think what kind of animal it could be.
But Nikki just stared into the dense undergrowth. "I just have a feeling that we're being watched."
"I think you're imagining things, Angel," Dianne said. "It's just as Ursa said, a very creepy place."
However, in the undergrowth, The Hood smiled to himself. This is going better than I had hoped. Soon, very soon, I shall know all of International Rescue's secrets.
Written by tawnyangel22[/i]
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1928 is a reply to message #1927] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:01 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 6/10/2006 12:32 PM
Watching the medical team leave with Gordon, Callie stood by herself next to the pod. She shuddered slightly after watching Dom put on his insect repellent. I'm not used to having a lot of guys around. Seeing my brothers shirtless is normal, but seeing men I've known for just a few months... that's not as comfortable. She had to pull her Penelar shirt back and forth to get any glint of cool air inside her upper body. The temperature readings in her visor made her sigh. "It's 100 degrees with a heat index of 124? This is worse than the summers back home."
She decided to contact Scott. "Ursa to Maverick. Is there anything you need me to do right now?"
"Yes, there is," he answered back. "I want you to get the Mobile Crane out here immediately. We'll need it help the passengers and cut back some branches to assist others. Bring a couple of jet packs as well."
"Will I be piloting the crane in the rescue?"
"No. Either Cousteau or Quasar will handle that task. Your job will be to examine the experimental fuel that spilled. We're not sure how it will affect the flora in this area or if there's anything we can use to neutralize it."
With a nod, she said, "F-A-B, Maverick. Getting that crane is a good reason to get out of this awful heat!"
Little did she know that someone was watching her closely. Ah, a female, all alone, and working for International Rescue, the Hood thought. Noticing the different look, he smiled wickedly. Hmm...interesting uniforms. I must assume the original uniforms were replaced with these to accommodate for these new members. They have apparently added special visors to prevent anyone from knowing who they are. If I can just get her cornered, I can get the information I so desperately seek.
As he started to come out, though, Callie shook her head. "I need some water before I overheat out here." She stepped inside the pod and grabbed some bottled water. Taking a sip, she let out a comforting sigh. "Ahh, that's much better."
The Hood grumbled in anger. No! I need her by herself! He stepped back into the lush forest to keep himself concealed from sight. There must be another way I can get her alone.
Meanwhile, Callie took the jet packs and placed them into the Mobile Crane. Then, she stepped into the crane with her bottled water. "It's a good thing there's a spot to put the water. I'll probably need it while I'm driving to the danger zone." Starting the engine, she alerted Scott. "Ursa to Maverick. I'm in Mobile Crane and on the way. How's Van Gogh?"
"Could be better. I'll feel a lot better when Doc and the others get here."
"I understand. As soon as I arrive, I'll investigate the area and gather samples to see if anything can be done to protect the flora."
"F-A-B, Ursa. We'll see you in about 15 minutes, and watch the thick parts. Going through the jungle may be difficult."
"F-A-B, Maverick." Seeing how thick the rain forest was, she knew she was in for a rough ride. "Well, if I can just get it over there, this should work out just fine."
The Hood noticed her driving the machine toward the jungle. "Perfect," he said in a barely audible tone of voice. "I may have lost one opportunity, but this young woman will give me International Rescue's secrets." He followed through the thick rain forest, just keeping out of Callie's view in the Mobile Crane. "As soon as she is alone...I will strike."
Written by TracyFan4Ever
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1929 is a reply to message #1928] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:02 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 6/10/2006 12:38 PM
Wednesday, July 18, 2068, 9:50 a.m. local time, somewhere west of Ipoh, Malaysia
"Careful, everyone," Gordon said, looking up. "I think it's stopped raining branches, but in this place, who knows what could happen?"
"How much farther?" Nikki asked, gazing around carefully. That one sighting of... whatever it was... had spooked her slightly. Dom also kept a wary eye out, mostly looking up for the falling branches that Gordon had mentioned. Dianne stepped cautiously, trying to make sure she didn't trip over anything.
"There they are!" Gordon picked up the pace to where John and Scott both stood, and Virgil lay.
"He's tried to sit up, but we wouldn't let him," John explained.
"Good call." Dianne said, crouching down beside him. "What the hell happened?"
"The wing was coming down," Scott explained with a sigh, and pointing to the crumpled wing, which lay on one end, leaning against the bole of a tree nearby. "Virgil tackled me, pushed me out of the way. This branch over here," he motioned to a sizeable piece of jungle wood, "fell on his leg."
"An' which leg was that?" she asked.
"The left," Virgil said with a groan. "I don't think it's broken but it hurts like hell!"
"Ah'll be th' judge o' whethah it's broken or not," Dianne replied. She gently and slowly passed her hands down the calf, and Virgil gritted his teeth, then let out a cry when she passed over the worst of the injury.
"Ah don' think we should remove th' boot heah," Dianne said. "Nikki, Ah'll need an inflatable splint. Dom, get th' stretcher ready. We'll do a scan when we get back t' Seven."
Nikki opened the medikit and pulled out the inflatable leg splint. Between Dianne and herself, they got it properly wrapped around Virgil's leg, immobilizing it from just above the knee to the ankle. Meanwhile, Dom opened up the stretcher, laying it on the ground next just behind where Dianne was crouched.
"I'll take the shoulders," Dom offered.
Dianne nodded. "Nikki, you an' Ah'll slide our hands beneath his back and knees. But be careful!"
"Right." Nikki crouched down and the two women slid their hands beneath Virgil's thighs and behind his back. Dom grabbed Virgil beneath the armpits.
"On three. One, two, three!" At the final count, the medical personnel lifted Virgil. Dianne stepped carefully backwards over the stretcher, and they put Virgil on it. Dom strapped him down, and activated the antigravity impellers.
"Take him back t' Seven," Dianne instructed. "Ah'll be along in a minute."
"F-A-B," Nikki said crisply.
"Can you find the way?" Gordon asked.
Dom nodded. "Yeah. I can."
"F-A-B," Gordon said, giving Dom a friendly pat on the shoulder.
They moved off, and Dianne faced Scott. "What are we gonna do about the people in the plane?" she asked.
Scott let out a deep breath. "Depends. We're going to take a look at the trees, and how they're holding up the plane. We might be able to cut some away and then perhaps use Thunderbird One's lances to stabilize it, keep it from falling any farther. Once that's done, we could probably put one of you inside to deal with the worst of the injured." He glanced up at the plane, its fuselage barely visible through the leaves. "If not, we'll have to use a sling or something to get it down safely. I've asked Callie to bring the crane and some jet packs."
Dianne nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Let me know when you're ready for us, either way."
"F-A-B," Scott said. "Let us know about Virgil. We may still need him to fly. And we could probably use Dom's help out here anyway."
"I'll keep you apprised." Dianne sighed, then picked up the medikit. She shook her head slowly. "This one has started out bad. I hope it doesn't continue in the same vein."
"You and me both, Doc," Scott said fervently. "You and me both."
Written by Tikatu
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1930 is a reply to message #1929] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:04 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 6/10/2006 12:40 PM
A collective sigh of relief was heard as Gordon and the medical team came into view. John stepped back and the brothers kept out of the way, once they had explained the situation. As the medical team worked, a thought occurred to John and he turned to his older brother. "How's Callie going to get here? No one is showing her the way."
His words caused stopped Scott in his tracks. "Man, I'm so out of it!" He walked back to Virgil, pulling a small box out of one of the pockets in his trousers. "I've had this homing device the whole time, intending to place it as soon as we reconnoitered the area. But when that wing came crashing down, it completely went out of my head."
Gordon turned to him with a grin and said, "You know, forgetfulness is the first sign of aging."
"Don't even go there," was the stern reply as Scott placed the box by Virgil and switched it on. "Maverick to Ursa. Do you read?"
"I read you five-by-five, Maverick. What do you need?"
"I've set up a homing device next to Van Gogh. You should be getting the signal now."
"A homing device? Good thinking. I'll need it if I'm going to find my way there. Stand by."
There was a brief pause, then she said, "I'm getting the signal loud and clear. Thanks for the assist, Maverick."
"You're welcome. Can you give me an ETA?"
"I don't -- WHOA!" There was a brief pause, then, "Now I know how a bronc rider must feel. Maverick, it doesn't look like there are many places long and wide enough for the Mobile Crane to get there very quickly. I'll have to make several detours, so I can't even hazard a guess at this point."
"F-A-B, Ursa. We'll keep an ear open and give you a yell when we hear you."
"F-A-B, Maverick. Ursa, out."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1931 is a reply to message #1930] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:05 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: ArtisticRainey Sent: 6/10/2006 2:46 PM
The air was thick with the smell of rotting undergrowth and growing trees, though all Callie could smell was the filtered air of the Mobile Crane's air conditioning system. She took a quick swig of her water, not wanting to think about the heat outside that she would soon be in again. The signal from Scott's homing device told her that she would soon be there, provided there were no more unexpected detours. This jungle is so hard to get through, she thought as she changed her bearing once more. I'm surprised I've made it so far in this space of time.
The little blip on the radar came ever-closer. Soon enough, Callie heard Scott's promised yell, and as the Mobile Crane trundled around one last corner, and the rescue party came into view.
"Good timing, Ursa," Scott said as she jumped down from the cab. "I'll take it from here. Doc, Dak and Angel are on their way to TB7 with Van Gogh. You need to check out the fuel spillage, see if it's going to cause any problems. Quasar, Cousteau, get moving with those jet packs."
"Sir, yes, sir!" Gordon said with a mock salute.
The crew split, and Gordon and John headed for the Mobile Crane to get strapped into the jet packs. "Looks pretty high," the former commented as he began to fasten the straps of his.
"You're not scared, are you?" John asked lightly.
"Of course not," Gordon said in a mock huff. "I enjoy a challenge."
"Just don't screw up, and we'll be fine," John said with a wink.
Gordon gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes, and the friendly banter continued until they were ready to go. "Up, up and away," he said, and at the press of a button he began to rise above the ground, closely followed by John.
The sound of the jet packs mingled with the jungle chorus, and the brothers rose in harmony towards the fuselage of the tangled plane. He was about half way up when Gordon had a sinking feeling -- literally.
"Huh?"
The tone of the jet altered, and Gordon found himself getting closer to the ground, as John passed him by.
"What's wrong, Cousteau?" John asked, decreasing his ascent velocity.
"I don't know exactly. There's something -- WHOA!"
The jet pack bucked upwards, then lost all power for a moment. Gordon's fingers flew to the controls to try to get his speed back up, when suddenly the jet pack lurched sharply to the left, and then upwards.
"What is going on? Aaah!"
He lurched to the right, then left, up and down sharply, before finally the jet pack gave out a few meters above the ground.
"Aaahh! Ooof! Oww, my ass, damn..."
Scott and Callie had stopped what they were doing to watch the spectacle, and hurried over to Gordon when he had made his ungracious landing.
"This is no time for fooling around, Cousteau," Scott said with a smirk as he held out a hand to help his brother up.
Gordon rubbed his posterior as he stood and shook his head, feeling his face grow with a warmth that had nothing to do with the searing heat. "Some just desserts, I think," he said. "Kat must never find out," he muttered to himself.
"Sounds like blackmail material, eh Maverick?" Callie commented.
"Doesn't it just?" Scott said, chuckling, before sobering. "Right, get another pack and get up there. We have no time to waste."
Gordon nodded, and went to get the equipment. Just as he reached the Mobile Crane, he heard a voice from above.
"Hey, Cousteau!" John yelled as he descended a few meters. "Did that happen to be the jet pack you 'fixed' for MGM?"
Gordon withheld comment, but his eyes were drawn to the serial number of the faulty equipment, and he winced as he recognised it as the pack he had used in the prank on Kat. What goes around comes around, I guess, he thought. I just wish I could weasel out of it. He strapped himself into a jet pack for the second time, before beginning his ascent again.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1933 is a reply to message #1931] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:12 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/10/2006 4:11 PM
Wednesday, July 18, 10:10 a.m., somewhere west of Ipoh, Malaysia (2:10 p.m. Tracy Island)
Scott watched as his brothers took to the skies in the jet packs, and saw Callie heading off into the jungle with a sampling kit over her shoulder. She was almost out of sight when something clicked in his mind, and he shook his head slowly. Idiot! She's going off into this jungle alone! Then he tapped his earpiece. "Ursa from Maverick."
Callie kept walking as she tapped her earpiece. "Ursa here, Maverick."
"Since you're on your own for this fuel business, I want you to check in with me every five minutes, and yell if anything unusual happens," Scott told her. "I know we're out in the middle of nowhere, but there's still the potential for danger out there."
"Danger? What kind of danger?" Callie asked as she pushed up on a vine and ducked.
"Well, there are animals in this jungle...," Scott began.
Callie interrupted. "Are there snakes?"
Scott couldn't help but hear the hesitation in her voice. "Very likely. Why?"
Callie stopped and took a deep breath, then shuddered. "I hate snakes. I hate 'em, Maverick."
"Ah, I see," Scott said with a nod. "Well, in any case... every five minutes."
"F-A-B," Callie replied. "I'll set my watch as a timer. That will help me remember."
"Sounds good," Scott said, relieved. "Maverick out."
xxxx
"Indy, try Doc in Seven," Jeff said, his voice showing his growing irritation and concern over the situation. "Whoever is hurt, they'd have him there by now."
"F-A-B," Alan said. He muted the feed to the island so his father couldn't hear him mutter under his breath. "What does he think I've been doing?" He tweaked the gain on both the main antenna and the coded frequency antenna then tried his message again. "Thunderbird Seven from Thunderbird Five. Do you read? Thunderbird Seven from Thunderbird Five. Doc, do you copy?"
xxxx
In Thunderbird Seven, Dom and Nikki had transferred Virgil to the scanner bed in the surgery. Nikki took Virgil's visor from him, and his cap, and Dianne started up the equipment. The scanner, directed by her input, began to give them images of the inside of Virgil's leg.
"What's the verdict?" Virgil asked, sounding weary.
"Good news!" Dianne smiled at her stepson. "No break. Just some deep bruising. It's gonna hurt for a while though, especially when you move." She glanced up at Dom. "Let's get this splint off, then the boots."
"F-A-B, Doc," Dom said with a grin as he proceeded to deflate the splint.
There was a lull in the conversation as the medical team worked, then Virgil asked, "When can I get back out there?"
"Who says you're getting back out there at all?" Dianne replied. "Unzip that pants leg for me, Nikki. I'll get a local for him. Otherwise, taking off this boot is gonna really hurt."
"I'm needed out there, Mom; you know that!" Virgil argued.
"Not with a bum leg you're not," she retorted. "You're going to rest where we can keep an eye on that leg."
"What about Two? Who's going to fly Two home?"
Dianne wielded the hypospray just below Virgil's left knee. "We'll let that take before pulling off the boot." She moved to the head of the bed where she could look her stepson in the eye. "Virgil, by rights, you should have a compound fracture. The only reason your leg isn't broken - or worse - is that you were wearing that Penelar. The boot kept the branch from jabbing into your leg and the pants cushioned the blow. Now, you are not going to argue with me. Gordon or John can just as easily fly Two home as you can." She glanced up at Dom. "Hey, from what I've heard, so can Dom here. So, follow doctor's orders, or I'll do worse than make you just rest."
Virgil huffed, and folded his arms across his chest, but said nothing more. Dianne shook her head. "Family makes the worst patients." She gave Virgil's leg a little pinch. When he didn't respond, she said, "Okay, team. Let's get this boot off."
Once the boot was removed, Dianne administered a more general analgesic, then the nurses helped Virgil to one of the bio beds. As Nikki pulled the bed down from where it was folded against the wall, she frowned. "Dianne? I think... I think I hear someone in the cockpit."
"Hmm. What do you mean?" Dianne stopped to listen, too.
"It sounds like... Indy," Nikki replied.
"Maybe he's found a way through the jamming," Virgil said.
"I'll go look," Dom volunteered.
He left Virgil's settling to the ladies, and opened the door between the medical cabin and the cockpit. Glancing around before he entered, he saw no one, and made a beeline for the pilot's chair.
"Thund... Sev... from... bird Five... you read? Thun... ven... Thundbird Fi... D..k ... copy?"
"Thunderbird Five, this is Thunderbird Seven. We copy. You're breaking up, but we copy."
Alan jumped at the signal. It was faint, and broken, but he heard it! He adjusted the gain some more, and leaned in closer to the microphone, as if that would make things clearer. "Thunderbird Seven, base wants status on injured. Do you copy?"
Dom frowned. "What was that last bit? Was it injured? What do they want?" He togged the switch again. "Thunderbird Five, repeat. Your transmission is sketchy. Please repeat."
Alan took a deep breath to calm himself. He had understood from the reply that things were still garbled on both ends. "Indy to Doc, need status on injury."
"Well, it's obvious he doesn't know who he's talking to," Dom said. He glanced up and back as Dianne and Nikki both stepped into the cockpit. "It's Alan. I think he wants to know who's hurt."
"Tell him," Dianne said simply.
"F-A-B," Dom replied. "Dak to Indy. Van Gogh is injured but not seriously. Do you copy?"
Pounding on the console in frustration, Alan asked again, "Need status on injury." One word in four is coming through! This isn't good!
"V... Go... jured, not... ser... sly," came the reply.
Alan sighed in relief. "Van Gogh. Virgil. I'd better pipe this down to base." He returned to the mike. "Message understood, Doc. Five standing by."
Nikki snorted a laugh. "Sounds like he still thinks he's talking to Dianne," she said, shaking her head.
Dom frowned. "That brings up a small problem, doesn't it? There'll be other times when communications will be bad and our code names will be confused." He glanced up at Dianne. "I think I'd better come up with a new one. Yours is pretty much etched in stone."
"Let's discuss that when we're back at base," Dianne said.
"Maverick to Thunderbird Seven," Scott's voice came over the comm system. "How's Van Gogh? And we could use your help out here."
Dianne sighed, and smiled. "Let's tell him what's up, then make arrangements to get out there and help."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1934 is a reply to message #1933] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:14 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/11/2006 1:50 PM
Wednesday, July 18, 10:35 a.m., somewhere west of Ipoh, Malaysia (2:35 p.m. Tracy Island)
Jeff waited impatiently, drumming his fingers on his desktop. Alan's portrait was activated, but the space monitor was nowhere to be seen. "I hope he can contact somebody there," Jeff muttered under his breath. "This waiting..."
Suddenly, Alan popped up, a relieved look on his face. He started talking, but Jeff's confused look made him roll his eyes and switch the sound feed back on. "Sorry about that. I have some news, Base. The interference is still bad, but I managed to get a bit of contact with someone in Seven. Here's the recording."
All those in the lounge listened carefully as Alan's clear speech, and the staticky bits and pieces of the response from Seven was played back. There was an audible gasp of shock when those listening heard that it was indeed Virgil who was injured, and an equally audible sigh of relief when they understood that he wasn't seriously hurt.
"Good work, Indy," Jeff said, smiling slightly for the first time during this rescue. "Einstein wants any and all data you have on this interference to begin some independent analysis on it. Maybe he can help find another way to punch through."
"F-A-B, Boss," Alan said. "It'll take a few moments to get a download ready."
"Understood," Jeff replied. "I'll patch you in to the lab. The two of you can take things from there. But keep an ear open for our rescue team." He leaned over to push a button on his computer. "Einstein, I'm patching you in to Thunderbird Five."
"F-A-B, we're, uh, ready," Brains said, the small window on Jeff's computer screen showing a very distracted looking scientist.
"F-A-B," Alan replied. "Thunderbird Five on standby." His picture stayed activated, but he left the scene, moving to one side to start compiling the data that Brains would need.
"Well, I'm glad to know that Virgil's not hurt too badly, though I'll be a mite less worried when I know the specifics of his injury," Grandma said with a small smile.
"So will I," Elise whispered to herself.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1936 is a reply to message #1934] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:23 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tawnyangel22 Sent: 6/12/2006 11:25 AM
Tracy lounge, Wednesday July 18th
There were murmurs of concern amongst those sat in the lounge when the news came that there was a man down. Kat sat with her fingers crossed. Oh, please, don't let it be John who has been hurt, she thought. Then, noticing how anxious Elise was, she went and sat beside her.
"You know, I think it's far worse sitting here, listening to what's going on and feeling so helpless," Elise said, smiling slightly at her friend.
Kat nodded. "I know exactly what you mean," she replied quietly as they both sat listening to events going on so far away.
Grandma was becoming agitated at the news that someone had been injured. Kyrano was trying to calm her.
"Come with me to the kitchen and I will make you a brew of my special herbal tea; it has great calming qualities," he suggested.
"I want to stay here; I need to know what's happening," Grandma began to argue.
"There is nothing you can do at this moment. Dr Tracy will take good care of whoever is injured, " Kyrano replied, soothingly.
Grandma looked at Kyrano. "Yes, I would like some of your herbal tea, Kyrano. I must check on Joshua first; I don't want the little mite waking up and wondering where he is. If he's awake, I'll bring him back here."
"Then I will bring your tea back here for you," Kyrano replied, as they both left the lounge.
Grandma headed for her suite, where she found Joshua was just beginning to stir. When he saw Grandma, he held out his arms. She picked him up and cuddled him. "You've had a good sleep; shall we go and join the others in the lounge?"
Grandma and Josh walked back into the lounge, where Kyrano was waiting with her herbal tea.
"Mrs Tracy, would you like me to take Josh for you while you have your drink?" Kat asked.
Grandma nodded, and Kat took the youngster to the far side of the lounge, where they began playing with his cars.
Grandma began to sip the hot liquid, which soon began to help her feel more relaxed.
"My, this is a wonderful brew, Kyrano. What's in it?"
"It is a secret recipe that has been handed down in my family from one generation to the next," Kyrano replied.
At that moment, Alan was able to confirm that it was Virgil who had been injured, but not seriously.
While Kat had been playing with Josh, she had been listening to what was happening regarding the rescue. Although she was concerned that Virgil had been injured, she breathed a sigh of relief that it hadn't been John.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1937 is a reply to message #1936] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:24 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: AmandaTracyandFred Sent: 6/12/2006 9:00 PM
Tuesday, July 17, 2006 6:30pm Near El Dorado, Kansas
That evening, Heather poured herself a glass of cognac from a sparkling crystal glass bottle and proceeded to walk back outside. Touching the branches of the old willow tree that stood at the center of the front yard, Heather looked at her solitary home with its crispy grass from the heat waves they'd experienced in the last two weeks. Bumblebees hummed heavily as they floated from one deep purple Four O' Clock blossom to the next. The sun was well on its way to setting and an unusually cool breeze brushed her hair forward. She frowned into the face of the wind, toward the farmhouse. Off in the distance, dark yellowish clouds loomed.
"First, dry heat and then cool breezes." Listening to the world around her, she heard the absence of bird song and saw the breezes picking up loose dust off the sides of the road. The crickets chirped louder than usual. "Not a good sign," she murmured, leaning on a piece of fencing that faced her Aunt Jenny's, wheat farm. Could she truly leave her prairie home that she'd come to love?
From her hip pocket came Hank Williams singing 'Your Cheatin' Heart'. Pulling out her cellphone, she answered the incoming call. "Hi, Aunt Jenny! How are you?"
"Ah kin see you walkin' in the front yard, Heather. You gotta nose fer weather like a beagle huntin' rabbit!"
Thinking about what her mother had said earlier, Heather tried to clean up her speech patterns and then gave up. "Usin' the high-powered binoculars I gave you?" she asked, giving a friendly wave toward the farmhouse.
"Best gift Ah ever got. Not only kin Ah see all the birds so much better now, Ah kin see what's goin' on Mabel's front porch! Land's Sakes! She's smoochin' the preacher's son--"
Heather's mouth dropped open for a minute. "What have Ah done?" she laughed to herself. "Now Aunt Jenny, that's not exactly what they were meant for. You shouldn't be snoopin' on the neighbors!"
An audible sniff answered Heather's admonishment. "Ah saw a beautiful meadowlark. Kin Ah help it if it flew in the same direction as Mabel's front yard?"
"Got your cellar prepared, haven't ya?" Heather asked, fighting hard not to laugh. If Mother only knew, she thought.
"Yes, dear. Got a storm comin' up?"
Looking over the clouds in the sky, Heather's feet crunched against the brown grass. "Sure feels that way. Ah think we've got a big one comin'."
"Oh, Ah hope not, but Ah've got fresh batteries for the flashlights, extra water, dried food to snack on if necessary and a battery powered radio! All the comforts of home!"
"Just keep an eye on the weather reports, Aunt Jenny. We're due."
"By the by, yo' Daddy called me today. He was a-tellin' me that you're lookin' to find a personal pilot's position. Does that mean you'd be movin'?"
"Well, it might, Aunt Jenny. Ah've sent my application in, but Ah haven't heard from him yet. It's a bit too soon anyway. He's a busy man--or so Ah hear."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1938 is a reply to message #1937] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:25 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Hobbeth Sent: 6/15/2006 7:19 PM
Scott watched Gordon rise steadily up to the plane, then turned back to the Mobile Crane and got a jet pack out for himself. He tapped his communicator and said, "Maverick to Cousteau and Quasar. I'm about to go up and check the other side. I'll also check the nose and cockpit; I want one of you to check the tail. If you can communicate with anyone in the cabin, reassure them that more help is on the way and we won't leave without all of them. Then meet me back on the ground, so we can plan our strategy."
"F-A-B," replied two voices at once. "I'll check the tail," Gordon added. "See you in a little while."
"F-A-B. Maverick, out." He put the jet pack on, walked to the opposite side of the plane and started up. It was slow going, due to vines and small branches hindering him. He also slowed his ascent when Callie checked in for the first time.
"I've reached the place where the first wing that came off landed. Upon first look, the fuel it carried appears to have been used up, but I'm going to confirm that before heading back to check out the other wing. I'll check back in when I'm finished, since it shouldn't take long."
"F-A-B, Ursa. Talk to you in five."
He continued upward, chafing inwardly at the time consumed, and finally arrived at his destination. He saw the smashed windshield, but found a spot where he could look inside. He watched the two men carefully for a few minutes, but saw no motion, no sign of life.
Shaking his head and sighing, he made his way carefully along the side of the plane.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1939 is a reply to message #1938] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:27 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 6/15/2006 8:16 PM
Wednesday, July 18, 2068, 10:50 a.m., local time, the Danger Zone. (2:50 p.m., Tracy Island)
"D'ya think we can get this in there?" Dom asked as he piloted Seven carefully through the crowded trees.
Sitting to his right and slightly behind him, Dianne shrugged. "I don't know. I understand the Mobile Crane got through, but I think this baby's wider than that."
Both of them winced as Seven scraped against a tree on one side. "Sorry about that," Dom said. "I think I overcompensated a bit."
The door opened behind them, and they could hear Nikki yelling, "You'd better get back here, Virgil, before I knock you out myself!"
"Need any help driving this buggy?" Virgil asked grumpily as he stood on one leg in the doorway, leaning in on both arms. Nikki tried to duck under his arms, to get around him, but he did his best to bar her way.
"Dom, you just concentrate on drivin'," Dianne said. "Ah'll take care o' this." She unstrapped herself from the copilot's seat and stood, striding over to her stepson with her most obstinate, no-nonsense expression on her face. "You let Nikki by, Virgil, or Ah'll let her use that suckah punch on you!"
Virgil let a frustrated breath out of his nose, and leaned to one side. An aggravated Nikki slipped under his arm, and Dianne nodded to her.
"Take the copilot's spot, Nikki, while Ah deal with this recalcitrant stepson o' mine."
"F-A-B," Nikki replied, sounding a bit relieved as she dropped into the chair Dianne had just vacated.
"Keep tryin' t' raise Five while yoah at it," Dianne said. Then she turned to Virgil. She got right up in his face, even though she knew he was looking down at her, and snapped, "Back t' bed, mistah."
"I think I'd be of more help out here," Virgil said, trying to curb his impatience and sound reasonable. "I have more experience..."
"Not with Seven," Dianne told him. "An' y'all are injured... or had that little fact escaped yoah notice? Now, eithuh you turn around an' get back t' bed, oah Ah'll ground you for a helluva lot longer than you'd like. Y'unnerstan'?"
He glared down at her, still balancing on his two arms and one leg. She stared up at him, arms folded, one eyebrow rising slowly. Finally, his shoulders slumped.
"All right, all right," he said, sighing. "You win." He turned, wincing as he accidentally put weight on his sore leg.
Dianne came in under his arm and supported him as she helped him back to the bio bed. "Y'know Ah hate pullin' rank on you, Virgil, but sometimes y'all are too stubborn foah yoah own good." She glanced up at him, and gave him a small smile. "Y'all get it from yoah fathuh."
He snorted a small laugh, and sat down as she maneuvered him around. She helped him put his legs up on the bed; he drew in a sharp breath and winced as she did so. A small shudder went through Seven, causing her to put a hand on the wall for balance as she reached over to cover him up.
"I'll give you some more analgesic soon; maybe something a bit stronger since the local is wearing off."
"Please don't give me anything that'll make me drowsy," Virgil pleaded. "I want to stay alert... just in case I'm needed."
"I'll think about it," Dianne replied. She tweaked the blanket once more, and swayed a bit as Seven took a sharp turn.
"You sure you can't use me up there?" Virgil asked.
"Not if you're injured," Dianne told him. "Besides, Dom's doing a good job for the terrain. You have to expect a few bumps when you're riding in the jungle." She shook a finger at him. "Get some rest, and I'll reevaluate things later."
"Okay... Doctor Mom," Virgil replied with a mischievous look on his face.
She rolled her eyes and sighed, then shook her head. "My family makes the worst patients," she muttered as she headed back for the cockpit.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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| Re: Trouble Under the Hood [message #1940 is a reply to message #1939] |
Sat, 28 July 2012 20:27 |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma: 0
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: TracyFan4Ever Sent: 6/16/2006 5:54 PM
Callie walked around the first fallen wing for any signs of change in the environment. Getting chills in her spine almost every few seconds, she felt very uncomfortable, knowing there were snakes in the area. "If I see a snake, I'm gonna scream," she said to herself. "Ever since I saw that water moccasin near Lake Martin when I was a kid, I've never liked them."
She walked around the wing, checking for any evidence of the experimental fuel. Leaning against it, she didn't notice that a rat snake had taken refuge there no more than a few minutes earlier. About to check readings with the chromograph, she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. Turning to look, she saw the creature approaching her. "AAAAAAHHHHH!" she screamed as she jumped back a few feet. Looking at it, she said, "I don't care if you're poisonous or not. I hate snakes!"
After taking a some deep breaths for about a minute, she composed herself to check the chromograph. "Okay, there's no evidence to support any environmental effects from the fumes, at least not from this wing anyway. I'd better check in with Scott. Ursa to Maverick. I can confirm no fuel spillage, and no adverse effects from any fumes coming from it. I'll head back to the site to check out the other one."
Scott was still checking the side of the plane when he received Callie's second call. "F-A-B, Ursa." Hearing her mumbling something, he said, "You sound strange. Is everything all right?"
"Oh, um, yes, Maverick. I just...found one of the local species around here. It decided to use the wing as a temporary home."
Scott shook his head. Probably a snake from the sound of her voice. I hope her fear of snakes won't affect her job performance. If I know her, though, she won't let it. She rebounded fast after the paintball game on my birthday, so she'll be fine here, too. "All right, Ursa. Come on back."
"F-A-B, Maverick." She headed back to the site, not having any idea someone else was watching her closely.
It will not be long now, thought the Hood, silently following her through the trees.
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
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