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There are few things in this world that would alarm Scott Carpenter Tracy during down time on the island. When he’s not doing checks on the Thunderbirds to make sure they’re all in perfect condition, when he’s not training, or checking in with John to see whether they need to be on standby.
The most alarming things he’s ever heard, though, are anything that involves Langstrom Fishler, the time that EOS had impersonated John and nearly killed him, and Alan saying…
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Scott’s ears pricked up the moment he heard Alan’s whispered voice as he made his way to the kitchen.
“Of course it is! Don’t be such a worry wart, they’ll love it!”
Scott brought his right hand up to his eyes and shook his head. Gordon. He’s inclined to go see what on earth they are both up to, but he’s also astutely aware that they will clam up and not say a word to him about it. It’s probably best to ask John or Brains to check in and see what it is they’re up to.
Nontheless, Scott needed his coffee, so he made a point of all but slamming his feet on the ground every step he took. Is it a bit much? Maybe, but gives them fair warning.
He finally saw his youngest brothers as he reached the bottom of the stairs, sat together leaning over something. Neither of them acknowledged Scott as he emerged.
“Hey, what are you both up to?” he says, and the troublesome two turn back to face him.
“Oh hey Scott! I’m just showing Alan this video that Penelope sent over of Sherbert.” Gordon all but beamed. Alan went from looking rather nervously at Gordon to smirking beside him.
“Yeah! He was, um…” he faltered, and Scott raised an eyebrow waiting for exactly what his little brother had to say, “… he was chasing a squirrel up a tree!”
Gordon did not seem impressed by this comment, and Scott was sure he would have loved to deny this.
He had to admit it was fun watching him squirm.
“Really?” Scott replies, stepping closer, “it sounds pretty funny. Can I see it?”
“Uh, I mean -”
“Sorry Scott, it’s a clickchat. I can only watch it once. Sorry bro!”
Those boys are up to something, and they are failing at hiding it from him. He raises an eyebrow.
“Do you want to start over, and tell me what you’re really up to?”
The pair looked crestfallen, their shoulders drooping.
“Busted. Well, I guess we have no choice but to let him in on the plan, right…?”
I knew it.
“Plan?”
—
It’s been a rough week for the middle Tracy. Back to back rescues, the jaws of life need fixing before they can be used again, and Grandma’s cooking nearly wiped him out a few days ago.
But now, he was back on form. Or so he hopes. He slept off the food poisoning and was now on his way to his 'Bird. Gordon and Alan had used it for a rescue yesterday and quite frankly he wanted to make sure it was free from pranks before he needed it on a rescue.
He knew Gordon wouldn’t prank him with something dangerous, or that would compromise a rescue if one was needed. More like, covering his chair in glitter, or rearranging the little snack fridge there for rescuees (seriously, there’s an order for those snacks!)
But all the same - no surprises allowed on rescues.
And yet, entering the hangar and finding the big heavy rescue craft with the pod open is certainly not a sight he expected, and only served to make him feel justified in coming here to do exactly what he planned.
Because it was absolutely freezing in here.
They live on an island in the South Pacific. It’s December, yes, but that’s summertime here and whilst these enormous caverns that make up the hangars do let some cool air circulate, he’s never before seen his breath when he’s entered. Goosebumps popped up on his arms, and he folded his arms in an attempt to keep warm.
It couldn’t be Brains, he’s just seen him in his lab with MAX. There are some voices coming from somewhere, but he can’t be sure whose they are, or where they’re coming from.
“Gordon?” he shouts, his voice echoing through the hangar. It’s almost predictable. He expected the silence, the voices vanishing like a whisper in the wind.
He didn’t expect Scott, though.
He emerged from the Pod and came to face him, a smile on his face, one hand lazily kept behind his back, resting on his hip.
“Sorry, brother. Not Gordon.”
“So what are you doing in Thunderbird two? Why is it so cold?”
“Probably the same as what you’re here to do. Come on, I was just checking the pod assembly device. You said it had been playing up…”
Virgil unfolded his arms, rolling up his sleeves and running his hands over his arms. “Yes, but why is it so cold in here?”
“Brains has been working on a new kind of coolant unit, for rescues in hot and humid climates, to let people stay cool whilst we work on a rescue.”
“I guess it works pretty well. Almost too well I’d say.”
He joined his elder brother and they both made a turn for the pod.
Virgil had no sooner stepped on the ramp, no sooner had the click of his boots hit that metal, before something cold and wet hit his face.
He opened his eyes to realise it was snow.
And the pod was full of it.
The frozen precipitation was stacked, wall to wall, covering everything within. And in front of it were his two youngest brothers, grinning mischievously, arms raised with snowballs in their hands.
“Gotcha!” they laughed.
He brushes off the leftover snow from his flannel jacket, and turns to the (almost) patriarch of the Tracy family.
“Scott, why is there snow in the pod?”
He shrugs, “well, they thought that you could do with cheering up. Besides, it’s been a while since we had a White Christmas… and we have a score to settle.”
Scott suddenly darted backward, revealing the snowball he had been hiding behind his back, before throwing it at him. Virgil barely had a moment to react, not able to dodge in time, but it had the intended effect.
“Oh, now you’ve done it. This means war.”