Categories > TV > Thunderbirds > Enhanced
A Close Shave
0 reviewsAfter participating in a rescue at a US research base John begins experiencing strange and amazing side effects.
0Unrated
Chapter Twenty Three: A Close Shave
Seeing the boiling, burning wall of ash and gas surging down the valley towards him John was momentarily frozen in a mixture of horror and terror convinced he was seeing his death coming for him. He knew full well that if the pyroclastic surge hit Thunderbird One its immense temperatures and fury would destroy her and him, swatting them from the sky with even less effort than he would expend swatting a fly.
After a moment the paralysis lifted and John manipulated Thunderbird One's controls abandoning his stationary hover and starting to climb higher into sky. Going from what was basically a standing start Thunderbird One had no chance of outrunning the pyroclastic flow. It would take a few seconds too long for her to build up enough speed - given that the filters on the engine intakes still had to contend with the falling ash - to escape, his only chance was to try and get above the flow.
To John time seemed to stretch, each second seeming to take an eternity to pass, as Thunderbird One climbed sharply into the sky as the burning avalanche of the surge cloud bore down upon her. It seemed like a living, breathing thing the pyroclastic flow as it ate up the distance at extreme speed, a beast spawned in the very belly of the Earth that had its sights set upon consuming the normally mighty Thunderbird. John could feel sweat running down his face as Thunderbird One climbed. Come on baby climb, he thought, I know I'm not Scott but come on do it for me. Climb. Get us away from the danger. The height indicator display numbers kept climbing as they rose seemingly in slow motion. That's it! That's it! Come on.
They almost made it.
A moment before Thunderbird One had gained enough height to be safe from the lethal elemental force of the pyroclastic surge, the cloud raced past beneath her. A protruding section of the cloud, a boiling, burning cloud of gas and fine ash particles slammed into her underside. Thunderbird One bucked violently upwards her nose and bulk of her fuselage rising into the sky but her heavier aft section dipping partially into the flow. With a harsh shrieking sound of tearing metal the force of the pyroclastic surge ripped off one of the small stabilising fin sections around the aft section along with a few of the metal plates. Burning gases played over sensitive exposed systems like a blowtorch over ice crystals. A hydraulic line burst as the immense heat vaporised the fluid inside, while circuits and cables melted in the heat. Then Thunderbird One was clear of the flow as the remaining engines in the unaffected parts of the engine section pushed her clear of the flow, smoke and sparks spewed from her underside as wobbling and vibrating madly the mighty machine climbed away from the maelstrom.
Swearing and cursing in every language he knew John struggled with the madly vibrating controls to bring Thunderbird One back under control. An instrument panel in the cockpit exploded in sparks filling in the cockpit with a thin diffuse cloud of smoke, John paid it no mind as he fought to bring the damaged machine back under control, while being careful not to cause any additional damage with his nanite abilities. Finally he managed to bring the madly bucking aircraft back under control, though the teeth chattering vibration remained constant.
John was finally able to turn his attention to the instrument panels. A number of them had gone dark or were showing wildly adverse readings to normal, though what was especially worrying was the hydraulic pressure indicator. Pressure was way down to some of the control surfaces, though it was beginning to stabilise as the computer shut down the damaged hydraulic and fuel lines to the damaged engine and re-routed to the others to compensate. A damage schematic appeared on the main display screen and John groaned.
"Oh man Scott's going to kill me," John moaned aloud as he studied the damage schematic. The ventral aft stabiliser fin was gone, one of the main rocket jets was inoperative, its fuel feeds and control circuits vaporised, another was only operating at sixty percent capacity. A number of the control surfaces had been singed and were only partially functional, and a number of fuselage plates had been ripped away from around the engine block.
Carefully John tested the flight systems and sighed in relief when he found that almost everything was working, some sluggishly but they were working. He could still fly, with the skin of Thunderbird One compromised he couldn't fly at anywhere near full speed but he could still fly. Okay first order of business, find out how far down the Fraiser Valley that pyroclastic surge got, John thought, as the ventilation system cleared the smoke from the cockpit.
Keeping his airspeed down to a cautious subsonic John began guiding Thunderbird One along the Fraiser Valley keeping a watchful eye on the sensors as they probed the ground below. What he saw below was a scene from hell, almost everything below was gone, all the trees had been flattened by the shockwave of superheated air travelling ahead of the surge cloud. Many of the trees were burning brightly or had already been reduced to charcoal that was almost indistinguishable from the steaming ash covered ground. The smoke from the burning trees mingling with the fine cloud of ash that was still blowing around or falling from the sky.
As he moved further down the valley from the volcano the destruction got overwhelming as the pyroclastic surge had lost energy. Eventually it stopped altogether at one of the small towns where the valley floor evened out further away from the still erupting Mount Baker. Every building in the town was ablaze, but John knew that there would be no casualties. The evacuation of the villages, towns and cities in the valley would have been phased, with those homes closest to Mount Baker being evacuated first.
Still the sight of the burning town saddened him greatly. Below him people's homes and dreams were being consumed by the inferno and would soon be reduced to nothing but smouldering rubble and agonised memories. Knowing that there were going to be a lot of tears from a lot of people at the news of town's total destruction made him wish he could do something about it. But Thunderbird One carried nothing capable of putting out the fires - a state of affairs that John knew Brains was constantly trying to resolve - but even if she had John knew that it would have done no good. There was nothing in the blazing town that would be worth saving now, everything would already have been destroyed or so badly damaged by fire that it would not be salvageable. Reluctantly John moved on heading further down the Fraiser Valley leaving the town behind him to burn.
***
FEMA Control Post
Abbotsford, A Few Minutes Later
Walter Chelmsford smiled in relief as he watched the last member of the last family left at this command/mustering point boarded one of the fleet evacuation buses. Finally that's all of them, he thought. We've got everyone out thanks to International Rescue stopping that lahar. Soon everyone is going to be safe and out of any possible danger. Though when they can come back is anyone's guess. That all depends on how long Mount Baker's eruption goes on for, how much ash it dumps on us.
Though they was some distance from Mount Baker significant quantities of ash were beginning to fall on Abbotsford, so far they'd only received a light grey dusting but the ash fall was getting heavier. Much heavier as the sky got darker and darker with the ever-increasing volume of pulverised rock particles in the cloud and the ever-spreading fallout cloud from the eruption. Walter wouldn't be at all surprised if places as far away as Seattle and Vancouver got a light dusting of the deceptively harmless looking grey ash.
After a moment Walter turned to one of his subordinates.
"Is that everyone," he asked.
"Yes, sir. All evacuation-gathering points report that all their vehicles are full. There is no one left the cities a ghost town. Thanks to International Rescue we've got everyone," his subordinate confirmed.
"Thank goodness for that. Okay send out the signal for all FEMA, National Guard and emergency service personnel to board the evacuation buses and trucks. It's time we all got out of here."
"Yes, sir." Walter smiled softly as the subordinate in question went to relay his orders. After a moment the sound of some kind of aircraft engines began to be heard. International Rescue its got to be, he thought looking up. Who else could fly an aircraft in the fallout cloud from an erupting volcano?
He looked in the direction that the noise seemed to be coming from and sure enough, their almost invisible against the dark grey background of the fallout cloud, was the ultra-sleek form of one of International Rescue's mighty flying machines. Though he was no expert looking at her Walter was sure he saw signs of damage on her underside but couldn't be absolutely certain, he was no expert in such matters after all. After a second or two one of his other subordinates approached him.
"Sir the Thunderbird is calling us," she said. "Her pilot wants to know our status."
"I see," Walter replied looking at his subordinate. "I'll talk to them." As he spoke he headed inside the small motel room that had been set up as their field command centre. He was more than ready to give the good news that the evacuation was complete to the pilot of the International Rescue aircraft. Once that was done they would all be able to get out of here and let Mount Baker do its worst to Abbotsford and surrounding towns.
***
Thunderbird One
John waited patiently managing to keep Thunderbird One on an even keel for the FEMA director to respond to his hail. While stationary as he was at the moment the vibration from the damaged engine block was not too bad. It was still there but it was almost unnoticeable, it was only when Thunderbird One was moving that the vibration was teeth-chattering. I'm lucky to still be flying, John thought, I'll just have to put up with the vibration until I finally get home. Though then I'll probably end up facing hurricane Scott. Scott is going to be so ticked off when he sees the damage to Thunderbird One.
He was just contemplating what he could do, where he could disappear to on the island until Scott calmed down when the radio crackled to life with an audio only transmission. Though even that was distorted by the interference spawned by Mount Baker's ongoing major eruption.
"FEMA Field Control to Thunderbird One. FEMA Field Control to Thunderbird One," a powerful male voice said.
"This is Thunderbird One. Is that Director Chelmsford?"
"Yes it is. May I ask to whom am I speaking?"
"My name is John Director Chelmsford," John replied. "What is the status of the evacuation of Abbotsford?"
"We have completed the evacuation. In stopping that lahar you bought us the time we needed to finish. The last of the evacuation vehicles will be leaving the city shortly and we will be going with them. Thanks for the help stopping that lahar."
"Glad we could help. Do you require any further assistance?"
"Negative John. We're good."
"Understood. In that case I'll return to my base."
"Okay that's fine. Have a safe flight home and thanks again."
"Thank you. On behalf of International Rescue I say your welcome."
With that John broke the connection and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Here we go, he thought, time to head home and face the music. Sighing in resignation knowing the Scott was almost certainly going to be major mad at him for Thunderbird One's condition, John got Thunderbird One moving on a course that would take her home.
***
Thunderbird Five
Ten Minutes Later
Alan sighed in relief when the sensor feed from the relay satellites reported Thunderbird One finally clearing the fallout cloud from Mount Baker. He had been worrying about John ever since he had been the one who had basically sent John back in there. Relief turned to confusion when he saw that Thunderbird One was travelling at barely Mach One. Even if the ash filters were partially clogged Thunderbird One should have been going faster than that. Confused and concerned his hands danced across the control panels in front of him.
"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One," he said. Immediately his communications screen lit up showing John's ash covered features.
"Go ahead Alan," John replied.
"Are you okay John? I've noticed that you're travelling much slower than normal for Thunderbird One."
"I'm okay but I can't say the same for Thunderbird One. We had a very close encounter with a pyroclastic flow and have sustained damage." Alan winced as John spoke; he knew that Scott was not going to like that. No he wasn't going to like it at all.
"How bad is it John?"
"Bad but could be worse. I've lost the ventral stabiliser fins and one of the rocket jets is out, its control circuits and fuel feeds vaporised."
"I see," Alan replied. "Something tells me that Scott is not going to be happy."
"Tell me something I don't know. Where's Thunderbird Two?"
Alan smiled, understanding that John didn't want to talk about the fact that he would probably soon be facing an angry Scott Tracy. It was understandable as Scott could be as intimidating as Dad when he wanted to be. Glancing at a side screen he noted the course and speed of Thunderbird Two.
"Thunderbird Two has left Seattle and is out over the Pacific Ocean John. Their on course for home. At your current speed I estimate that they will be home about an hour before you."
"F-A-B, Alan. Do me a favour will you and let everyone know why I'm taking my time coming home."
"F-A-B, John. Hopefully when they get back Virgil will be able to talk some sense into Scott so he doesn't bite your head off the moment you land."
"I hope so too Alan."
"Good luck on your flight John. If you want someone to talk to give me a yell. You know how boring it can get up here." John smiled slightly.
"Yeah I know. I'll bare that in mind Alan, thanks."
"You're welcome," Alan replied then broke the connection from his end before taking a moment to pause to collect his thoughts before operating the communications systems again. "Thunderbird Five to base and Thunderbird Two."
Instantly his communications screen came to life again with a split screen image. On one side he saw Virgil's face - which like John's was dark grey from Mount Baker's ash - on the other was Scott's face.
"Go ahead Alan," Scott said echoed a second later by Virgil.
"John's on his way home now," Alan said. "Thunderbird One has just cleared the fallout zone. But he's travelling slowly and before you ask why Thunderbird One has been damaged."
"Damaged! How?" Scott demanded to know.
"John didn't give me precise details as to what happened you will have to ask him yourself when he arrives Scott. But he said something about a close encounter with a pyroclastic flow that's caused considerable damage to Thunderbird One."
"I see. What about John?"
"He seems okay," Alan replied inwardly cringing at the thunderous look he could see coming into Scott's face. Hurricane Scott was starting to gather its force. "Scott will you please do me a favour."
"What's that Alan?" Scott asked.
"Please don't bite John's head off when he gets back. I know your 'birds been wounded but you can't take it out on John."
"I'll try not to Alan," Scott replied after a moment. "Keep me up to date with his progress will you."
"F-A-B, Scott."
"What time will Thunderbird One reach the island Alan," Virgil asked making a mental note to speak to Scott after he arrived. Like Alan he could see the storm building inside his older brother and like his baby brother he was going to have to do something to diffuse that storm before it had chance to break.
"She's only travelling at Mach One so about an hour after you arrive Virgil. Give or take a few minutes."
"F-A-B," Scott and Virgil replied in unison. Alan smiled and broke the connection before going over to the view port and looking out at space outside the station.
Below him he could see the perfect blue and green orb of the Earth. Good luck with Scott John, Alan thought looking down at the planet below wishing he could see North America but he was on the wrong side of the planet at the moment for that. You are probably going to need all the luck you can get as Scott's ticked off I could see it.
Alan sighed and walked away from the view port as he felt pangs of hunger in his stomach. He wouldn't want to be in John's shoes now; no he wouldn't want to be at all.
Seeing the boiling, burning wall of ash and gas surging down the valley towards him John was momentarily frozen in a mixture of horror and terror convinced he was seeing his death coming for him. He knew full well that if the pyroclastic surge hit Thunderbird One its immense temperatures and fury would destroy her and him, swatting them from the sky with even less effort than he would expend swatting a fly.
After a moment the paralysis lifted and John manipulated Thunderbird One's controls abandoning his stationary hover and starting to climb higher into sky. Going from what was basically a standing start Thunderbird One had no chance of outrunning the pyroclastic flow. It would take a few seconds too long for her to build up enough speed - given that the filters on the engine intakes still had to contend with the falling ash - to escape, his only chance was to try and get above the flow.
To John time seemed to stretch, each second seeming to take an eternity to pass, as Thunderbird One climbed sharply into the sky as the burning avalanche of the surge cloud bore down upon her. It seemed like a living, breathing thing the pyroclastic flow as it ate up the distance at extreme speed, a beast spawned in the very belly of the Earth that had its sights set upon consuming the normally mighty Thunderbird. John could feel sweat running down his face as Thunderbird One climbed. Come on baby climb, he thought, I know I'm not Scott but come on do it for me. Climb. Get us away from the danger. The height indicator display numbers kept climbing as they rose seemingly in slow motion. That's it! That's it! Come on.
They almost made it.
A moment before Thunderbird One had gained enough height to be safe from the lethal elemental force of the pyroclastic surge, the cloud raced past beneath her. A protruding section of the cloud, a boiling, burning cloud of gas and fine ash particles slammed into her underside. Thunderbird One bucked violently upwards her nose and bulk of her fuselage rising into the sky but her heavier aft section dipping partially into the flow. With a harsh shrieking sound of tearing metal the force of the pyroclastic surge ripped off one of the small stabilising fin sections around the aft section along with a few of the metal plates. Burning gases played over sensitive exposed systems like a blowtorch over ice crystals. A hydraulic line burst as the immense heat vaporised the fluid inside, while circuits and cables melted in the heat. Then Thunderbird One was clear of the flow as the remaining engines in the unaffected parts of the engine section pushed her clear of the flow, smoke and sparks spewed from her underside as wobbling and vibrating madly the mighty machine climbed away from the maelstrom.
Swearing and cursing in every language he knew John struggled with the madly vibrating controls to bring Thunderbird One back under control. An instrument panel in the cockpit exploded in sparks filling in the cockpit with a thin diffuse cloud of smoke, John paid it no mind as he fought to bring the damaged machine back under control, while being careful not to cause any additional damage with his nanite abilities. Finally he managed to bring the madly bucking aircraft back under control, though the teeth chattering vibration remained constant.
John was finally able to turn his attention to the instrument panels. A number of them had gone dark or were showing wildly adverse readings to normal, though what was especially worrying was the hydraulic pressure indicator. Pressure was way down to some of the control surfaces, though it was beginning to stabilise as the computer shut down the damaged hydraulic and fuel lines to the damaged engine and re-routed to the others to compensate. A damage schematic appeared on the main display screen and John groaned.
"Oh man Scott's going to kill me," John moaned aloud as he studied the damage schematic. The ventral aft stabiliser fin was gone, one of the main rocket jets was inoperative, its fuel feeds and control circuits vaporised, another was only operating at sixty percent capacity. A number of the control surfaces had been singed and were only partially functional, and a number of fuselage plates had been ripped away from around the engine block.
Carefully John tested the flight systems and sighed in relief when he found that almost everything was working, some sluggishly but they were working. He could still fly, with the skin of Thunderbird One compromised he couldn't fly at anywhere near full speed but he could still fly. Okay first order of business, find out how far down the Fraiser Valley that pyroclastic surge got, John thought, as the ventilation system cleared the smoke from the cockpit.
Keeping his airspeed down to a cautious subsonic John began guiding Thunderbird One along the Fraiser Valley keeping a watchful eye on the sensors as they probed the ground below. What he saw below was a scene from hell, almost everything below was gone, all the trees had been flattened by the shockwave of superheated air travelling ahead of the surge cloud. Many of the trees were burning brightly or had already been reduced to charcoal that was almost indistinguishable from the steaming ash covered ground. The smoke from the burning trees mingling with the fine cloud of ash that was still blowing around or falling from the sky.
As he moved further down the valley from the volcano the destruction got overwhelming as the pyroclastic surge had lost energy. Eventually it stopped altogether at one of the small towns where the valley floor evened out further away from the still erupting Mount Baker. Every building in the town was ablaze, but John knew that there would be no casualties. The evacuation of the villages, towns and cities in the valley would have been phased, with those homes closest to Mount Baker being evacuated first.
Still the sight of the burning town saddened him greatly. Below him people's homes and dreams were being consumed by the inferno and would soon be reduced to nothing but smouldering rubble and agonised memories. Knowing that there were going to be a lot of tears from a lot of people at the news of town's total destruction made him wish he could do something about it. But Thunderbird One carried nothing capable of putting out the fires - a state of affairs that John knew Brains was constantly trying to resolve - but even if she had John knew that it would have done no good. There was nothing in the blazing town that would be worth saving now, everything would already have been destroyed or so badly damaged by fire that it would not be salvageable. Reluctantly John moved on heading further down the Fraiser Valley leaving the town behind him to burn.
***
FEMA Control Post
Abbotsford, A Few Minutes Later
Walter Chelmsford smiled in relief as he watched the last member of the last family left at this command/mustering point boarded one of the fleet evacuation buses. Finally that's all of them, he thought. We've got everyone out thanks to International Rescue stopping that lahar. Soon everyone is going to be safe and out of any possible danger. Though when they can come back is anyone's guess. That all depends on how long Mount Baker's eruption goes on for, how much ash it dumps on us.
Though they was some distance from Mount Baker significant quantities of ash were beginning to fall on Abbotsford, so far they'd only received a light grey dusting but the ash fall was getting heavier. Much heavier as the sky got darker and darker with the ever-increasing volume of pulverised rock particles in the cloud and the ever-spreading fallout cloud from the eruption. Walter wouldn't be at all surprised if places as far away as Seattle and Vancouver got a light dusting of the deceptively harmless looking grey ash.
After a moment Walter turned to one of his subordinates.
"Is that everyone," he asked.
"Yes, sir. All evacuation-gathering points report that all their vehicles are full. There is no one left the cities a ghost town. Thanks to International Rescue we've got everyone," his subordinate confirmed.
"Thank goodness for that. Okay send out the signal for all FEMA, National Guard and emergency service personnel to board the evacuation buses and trucks. It's time we all got out of here."
"Yes, sir." Walter smiled softly as the subordinate in question went to relay his orders. After a moment the sound of some kind of aircraft engines began to be heard. International Rescue its got to be, he thought looking up. Who else could fly an aircraft in the fallout cloud from an erupting volcano?
He looked in the direction that the noise seemed to be coming from and sure enough, their almost invisible against the dark grey background of the fallout cloud, was the ultra-sleek form of one of International Rescue's mighty flying machines. Though he was no expert looking at her Walter was sure he saw signs of damage on her underside but couldn't be absolutely certain, he was no expert in such matters after all. After a second or two one of his other subordinates approached him.
"Sir the Thunderbird is calling us," she said. "Her pilot wants to know our status."
"I see," Walter replied looking at his subordinate. "I'll talk to them." As he spoke he headed inside the small motel room that had been set up as their field command centre. He was more than ready to give the good news that the evacuation was complete to the pilot of the International Rescue aircraft. Once that was done they would all be able to get out of here and let Mount Baker do its worst to Abbotsford and surrounding towns.
***
Thunderbird One
John waited patiently managing to keep Thunderbird One on an even keel for the FEMA director to respond to his hail. While stationary as he was at the moment the vibration from the damaged engine block was not too bad. It was still there but it was almost unnoticeable, it was only when Thunderbird One was moving that the vibration was teeth-chattering. I'm lucky to still be flying, John thought, I'll just have to put up with the vibration until I finally get home. Though then I'll probably end up facing hurricane Scott. Scott is going to be so ticked off when he sees the damage to Thunderbird One.
He was just contemplating what he could do, where he could disappear to on the island until Scott calmed down when the radio crackled to life with an audio only transmission. Though even that was distorted by the interference spawned by Mount Baker's ongoing major eruption.
"FEMA Field Control to Thunderbird One. FEMA Field Control to Thunderbird One," a powerful male voice said.
"This is Thunderbird One. Is that Director Chelmsford?"
"Yes it is. May I ask to whom am I speaking?"
"My name is John Director Chelmsford," John replied. "What is the status of the evacuation of Abbotsford?"
"We have completed the evacuation. In stopping that lahar you bought us the time we needed to finish. The last of the evacuation vehicles will be leaving the city shortly and we will be going with them. Thanks for the help stopping that lahar."
"Glad we could help. Do you require any further assistance?"
"Negative John. We're good."
"Understood. In that case I'll return to my base."
"Okay that's fine. Have a safe flight home and thanks again."
"Thank you. On behalf of International Rescue I say your welcome."
With that John broke the connection and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Here we go, he thought, time to head home and face the music. Sighing in resignation knowing the Scott was almost certainly going to be major mad at him for Thunderbird One's condition, John got Thunderbird One moving on a course that would take her home.
***
Thunderbird Five
Ten Minutes Later
Alan sighed in relief when the sensor feed from the relay satellites reported Thunderbird One finally clearing the fallout cloud from Mount Baker. He had been worrying about John ever since he had been the one who had basically sent John back in there. Relief turned to confusion when he saw that Thunderbird One was travelling at barely Mach One. Even if the ash filters were partially clogged Thunderbird One should have been going faster than that. Confused and concerned his hands danced across the control panels in front of him.
"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One," he said. Immediately his communications screen lit up showing John's ash covered features.
"Go ahead Alan," John replied.
"Are you okay John? I've noticed that you're travelling much slower than normal for Thunderbird One."
"I'm okay but I can't say the same for Thunderbird One. We had a very close encounter with a pyroclastic flow and have sustained damage." Alan winced as John spoke; he knew that Scott was not going to like that. No he wasn't going to like it at all.
"How bad is it John?"
"Bad but could be worse. I've lost the ventral stabiliser fins and one of the rocket jets is out, its control circuits and fuel feeds vaporised."
"I see," Alan replied. "Something tells me that Scott is not going to be happy."
"Tell me something I don't know. Where's Thunderbird Two?"
Alan smiled, understanding that John didn't want to talk about the fact that he would probably soon be facing an angry Scott Tracy. It was understandable as Scott could be as intimidating as Dad when he wanted to be. Glancing at a side screen he noted the course and speed of Thunderbird Two.
"Thunderbird Two has left Seattle and is out over the Pacific Ocean John. Their on course for home. At your current speed I estimate that they will be home about an hour before you."
"F-A-B, Alan. Do me a favour will you and let everyone know why I'm taking my time coming home."
"F-A-B, John. Hopefully when they get back Virgil will be able to talk some sense into Scott so he doesn't bite your head off the moment you land."
"I hope so too Alan."
"Good luck on your flight John. If you want someone to talk to give me a yell. You know how boring it can get up here." John smiled slightly.
"Yeah I know. I'll bare that in mind Alan, thanks."
"You're welcome," Alan replied then broke the connection from his end before taking a moment to pause to collect his thoughts before operating the communications systems again. "Thunderbird Five to base and Thunderbird Two."
Instantly his communications screen came to life again with a split screen image. On one side he saw Virgil's face - which like John's was dark grey from Mount Baker's ash - on the other was Scott's face.
"Go ahead Alan," Scott said echoed a second later by Virgil.
"John's on his way home now," Alan said. "Thunderbird One has just cleared the fallout zone. But he's travelling slowly and before you ask why Thunderbird One has been damaged."
"Damaged! How?" Scott demanded to know.
"John didn't give me precise details as to what happened you will have to ask him yourself when he arrives Scott. But he said something about a close encounter with a pyroclastic flow that's caused considerable damage to Thunderbird One."
"I see. What about John?"
"He seems okay," Alan replied inwardly cringing at the thunderous look he could see coming into Scott's face. Hurricane Scott was starting to gather its force. "Scott will you please do me a favour."
"What's that Alan?" Scott asked.
"Please don't bite John's head off when he gets back. I know your 'birds been wounded but you can't take it out on John."
"I'll try not to Alan," Scott replied after a moment. "Keep me up to date with his progress will you."
"F-A-B, Scott."
"What time will Thunderbird One reach the island Alan," Virgil asked making a mental note to speak to Scott after he arrived. Like Alan he could see the storm building inside his older brother and like his baby brother he was going to have to do something to diffuse that storm before it had chance to break.
"She's only travelling at Mach One so about an hour after you arrive Virgil. Give or take a few minutes."
"F-A-B," Scott and Virgil replied in unison. Alan smiled and broke the connection before going over to the view port and looking out at space outside the station.
Below him he could see the perfect blue and green orb of the Earth. Good luck with Scott John, Alan thought looking down at the planet below wishing he could see North America but he was on the wrong side of the planet at the moment for that. You are probably going to need all the luck you can get as Scott's ticked off I could see it.
Alan sighed and walked away from the view port as he felt pangs of hunger in his stomach. He wouldn't want to be in John's shoes now; no he wouldn't want to be at all.
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