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It’s something he’s learned, but not something he was ever taught. You can teach protocols and process, but you can’t teach raw instinct. They’ve all got it, him and his brothers, but Virgil’s instincts border into the territory of a sixth sense, especially where his brothers are concerned.
He and Gordon are partnered for a rescue off the coast of Brazil, an old oil rig being hauled back to shore to be dismantled has broken loose of its towlines and is drifting off the coast, interfering with shipping lanes and in danger of capsizing. There’s no one onboard, but the vessel itself poses a significant hazard if it’s allowed to run aground, or if it drifts into the path of an oncoming ship.
Gordon’s down in Thunderbird Four, attaching cables for TB2, hard links through the trusses and struts supporting the platform. Magnetic grapples won’t be sufficient, and it’s going to take all the muscle his ‘bird has in order to haul the thing someplace it can safely be grounded.
The seas are rough, but Gordon’s below the surface while Virgil hovers nearby. Anything water-related is usually Gordon’s territory, and Virgil won’t be able to say for sure just what tips him off. Tiny slivers of everything all at once, most probably. But the wind rises and he feels it through TB2′s controls, and the water around the base of the platform begins to swell. The thing’s already unstable, and Virgil reacts before he actually knows what’s going to happen, jamming a thumb down on his radio button. “Thunderbird Four. Dive now, get far down and clear. It’s going to flip.”
There’s a crackle of static over the comm, and then a crisp, “FAB.” Even as the rig starts to topple, Virgil’s already firing his engines, rising high and away and clear.
It’s spectacular, if tragic, the sight of the old wreck teetering and then crashing into the water with an avalanche of white, briny foam. There’d have been alarms and signals if anything had happened to TB4, but Virgil still fiddles with the radio after an anxious few minutes. “…Thunderbird Four? Gordon. Come in, Gordon. What’s your status?”
There’s another burst of interference–the weather isn’t doing them any favours–and then a slightly hysterical laugh from Gordon. Below him, Virgil can see the flash of TB4′s yellow hull as his brother surfaces. “…that was a close one. Hah. Hahahaha. Ha. Wow. Okay. I’m an idiot. Good call, Virge. I didn’t even–”
“It’s okay, Gordon. I didn’t either.” And, shaken himself but glad to have his brother around to confess to, Virgil grins a little as he admits, “Just caught a bit of your squid sense.”
Gordon’s answering laugh is slowly losing its hysterical edge. “Next time, get your own.”