Home » The Archives » Chapter 7 » Trouble Under the Hood
| 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:
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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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