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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:
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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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