I apologise in advance that the situation that develops in this fic is unresolved!
Fandom: Thunderbirds
Characters: Virgil, John, Gordon
Rating: General
Warnings: No major warnings! Thunderbird Two in peril. Explosions.
Word Count: 763
“Thunderbird Two, I’m detecting an aircraft approaching your position,” John reported from Thunderbird Five.
This was surprising for a number of reasons. The first being that the narrow canyon in which Virgil was fighting to keep his ‘bird at a steady hover above Gordon and the rescue cradle was subject to violent, unpredictable wind gusts. Flying in the canyon was hazardous at the best of times, and today the wind was strong.
A second reason was that the GDF had already stated their ETA was some way off yet.
“Friendly?” was all Virgil managed in response as he concentrated on minute adjustments to VTOL thrust.
“Unclear. I am unable to ascertain any identifying markings or signals, and there’s no response to any attempts at communication.” The note of concern in John’s voice, undetectable to most people, but impossible to miss for his brothers, spoke volumes. “It’s approaching fast. Should be with you in less than a minute.”
“That’s all I need,” Virgil mumbled to himself before giving his official response. “FAB.”
He was relieved that decision to lower the rescue cradle to the ground and detach the winch cables had already been made. It wasn’t the ideal way to load and secure people into the seats, but it would mean Gordon could get their five hapless hikers secured without the cradle rocking violently from every small twitch Two made above. It shouldn’t be long now until Gordon gave the okay to re-lower the cables ready for extraction.
But the call Gordon gave over the comms was far from what Virgil was expecting.
“Virgil, I have eyes on your bogey aircraft, coming in fast and armed! Get clear! Repeat, get clear of the canyon!!”
His instrumentation confirmed what his younger brother had yelled. Aircraft coming in from above and behind, slightly to starboard. At the same time Two was buffeted by a gusty headwind. Two wasn’t built for evasive manoeuvres even when space was not so limited, so all Virgil could do was blast the VTOL and climb as quickly as possible, and do what he could to avoid the rocky walls on either side.
“Weapons fire!”
Something exploded somewhere to starboard, buffeting Two sideways and forcing the port wing into the cliff face, grinding and tearing against the remaining five meters of rock until she reached clear air.
Warning lights lit up red on Virgil’s dash console.
Nothing structural on the starboard side, but the port wing had taken damage. It was making evading the other aircraft difficult, and said bogey seemed to be tailing him, watching and waiting, but keeping Two within weapons range.
“Thunderbird Two, status report!” John demanded.
“Little busy right now Five!” Virgil growled through gritted teeth as he tried to compensate for the twisted cahelium while safely firing the main engines and gain some distance on the other plane.
John showed his relief at that simple answer by giving Virgil helpful stats instead. “The GDF should be with you in two minutes. Thunderbird One is on the way to the rescue location to pick up Gordon and the rescue cradle.”
In other words, get out of here and avoid taking further damage if you can!
After all, John would have access to most of the same warnings Two was flashing – port wing assembly damaged, hinge mechanism offline, potential damage to hydraulic line and electronics being the main concerns.
“FAB, Five. Main engines seem to be unaffected, steering’s a little off and I won’t be able to fold the port wing, but I should be able to make it home as long as I don’t take another . . .”
The pilot of the hostile aircraft had apparently grown impatient and fired on Two again, this time exploiting the weakness of the broken wing. Multiple explosions rippled along the port side, taking the port side engine offline and sending Two violently sideways and bathing the entire cockpit in the horrifying glow of red and amber warning lights.
Virgil was so busy trying to stop his ‘bird from rolling, while diverting what controls he could into working systems to compensate for those he’d lost, and attempting to keep her in the air with only one working main engine, that he almost didn’t register the fact he’d lost comms.
“Another what, Thunderbird Two?” A fast series of critical warnings from Two lit up across John’s displays, and then a bunch of them blinked out again. “Thunderbird Two, respond.”
No response.
“Virgil?”
Nothing. He tried boosting the signal.
“Thunderbird Two, do you read?”
The faintest static crackle was all that came through.
