With thanks to @edutainer2022 for the suggestion based on this picture by @okierodeo and @the-original-sineater and @mariashades
~
The rest of the week was full on.
The ploughing competition was on Saturday so there were only two days left to ensure everything was ready.
Virgil and Brains spent most of the time in the big barn with Bertha. Their big old Deere had been a mainstay of the farm for years but she didnât look like she had when Grandpa Grant had bought her new.
First Virgil and then later their live-in friend and fellow engineer Hiram Hackenbacker, mostly called Brains for ease, had tinkered and played and now Bertha was a monster with a turn of speed that was frankly unnatural for a tractorâŠ
John spent his time divided between the designated field - walking the perimeter, taking soil samples and making extensive notes - and his barn on Thunderbird Hill making calculations and running experiments on the soil. And his dogs. Every day he spent the morning with them, running the course heâd prepared.
Gordon split his time between helping John and his own aqua farming. Heâd almost perfected his pain-relieving plants but they wouldnât be ready for this yearâs competition. They still needed tending though. The rest of the time he spent looking after the farm in general, taking over the jobs his older brothers would usually do to free them up.
Alan helped out Gordon around the farm and running errands, making sure that his brothers ate and generally feeling a little useless.
Everyone knew Alan hadnât yet found his place, his roleâŠwhatever you wanted to call it. He really wanted to do what Scott did. Heâd been so much more than a big brother to Alan, heâd been the only Father Alan had had for most of his life.
He was man enough to know he hero-worshipped Scott, but Alan knew that he needed to find his own way. Creating new fuels to help his brother go even faster was all well and good, but that was something both John and Virgil had both done before him, his second-eldest brother introducing him to the process once he was old enough not to blow the barn upâŠmore than once.
Alan needed something that was going to be all his.
He just had no idea what that was going to be.
âAlan?â
âYes, Grandma?â
âI need your help a moment please.â
âFAB, Grandma.â
Sally Tracy smiled as her youngest skidded into the kitchen. Just like his eldest brother, Alan couldnât do anything less than top speed, and he threw her a sheepish grin. She tutted but said nothing more, asking him to grab a box from the storeroom.
The storeroom was in the basement. It was neatly stacked but not somewhere Alan usually went. He found it creepyâŠbut heâd do anything for his Grandma. The box she wanted was easy to reach but up high, and he used what looked like a sturdy box to stand on.
It was not a sturdy box and with a yell Alan unbalanced and fell, the box his Grandma wanted and a couple others falling with him.
No one heard him, though, and with a sigh he twisted around and began to stuff things back into boxes, glad that there was no one around to hear him curse. Why did they have so much junk? He shoved a photo album back into a box but a picture fell out.
Alan glanced at the photo and froze.
His phone rang and Scott broke off from his discussion of tactics with John. He frowned when he saw who was calling.
âGrandma? Is everything alright?â
âIâm sure itâs nothing, Scott, but I asked Alan to bring the box of labels up from the basement. Heâs been gone a long time.â
âFAB, Grandma. Iâm on my way.â
âThank you.â
Scott knew that their Grandma couldnât leave the kitchen. Her various dishes needed constant attention and so he loped over to see what was going on with his youngest brother.
He froze at the bottom of the basement stairs. Alan was standing there, holding a picture in one hand and justâŠstaring at it. For some reason it made Scottâs heart stutter.
âAlan? Al, buddy?â
But Alan didnât say anything for the longest while. Scott approached slowly but still he wasnât acknowledged. Gently he removed the picture from Alanâs hand. He couldnât help the gasp that escaped him and finally Alan moved.
âScotty? Is thatâŠis that Mom?â
âYeah.â
âI never knew she rode rodeo.â
âI guessâŠI guess we just never talk about it. By the time Gordon was born Mom had retired, but when John, Virgil and I were growing up it was Dad who looked after us mostly, Mom was always on the rodeo trail. Sheâd be home maybe one or two months maximum spread out throughout the year apart from when she was pregnant.â
âWas she good?â
âOh man, Alan, I wishâŠI wish you could have seen her! She was like lightning on hooves. She had a turn of speed Iâve never seen anyone else have on a horse, she was a real Cowgirl. I think there should be some old footage in one of these boxesâŠâ
Scott broke off and began rummaging around the boxes and eventually held up a vid-disk with a soft smile. Grabbing firstly the box their Grandma wanted and throwing his arm around Alanâs shoulders they made their way upstairs.
After handing over the box of labels they moved to the den and settled down. While Scott set up the vid Alan called the others and pretty soon they were all sitting on the large sofa â Alan in the middle with Scott on one side and Gordon on the other, John on Scottâs side and Virgil on Gordonâs. And the video played.
They whooped and cheered along as Lucille Evans topped the bill. They watched their Mom riding, roping and racing far into the night until there was no more to see.
And Alan turned to his brothers, eyes alight and excitement clear.
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The Tube Post has been updated for 2026! Endless thanks to @andstuffsketches for the amazing art (!!!), @rowenabean for checking this over for me (all remaining mistakes are my own), @kelpforestdwellers for extra tips, and @appleyblam for an editing pass. Thank you all!
If you would like to download the zine for your own use, you can find it for free on itch.io.
@hamletthedaneâs tags:
#Vincent Van Gogh is crying somewhere in the after and Iâm crying just thinking about that#you knew!! you saw the patterns!! there is a whole planet painted in the oils from your brush!!#TIL that the craft Juno went as close as 4000km from Jupiterâs weather surface#for context: the craft was closer to Jupiter than NYC is to LA#which is space terms is like. basically being on the planet#holy shit
i was tidepooling today and overheard someone say 'chatgpt it so we can figure out what it is' about some sort of creature. loser behavior. you're not in it for the love of the game. i have to do everything around here. let me see the creature. i'll tell you the real answer about what it is and i won't kill the environment. AND i'm literally nice.
it's funny because 5 minutes before that i was IDing something by using the search string "SEA SLUG GREEN STRIPED SMALL SEATTLE" which took me to a very badly designed, hauntingly non mobile optimized website that immediately gave me way more information about my creature than i needed or thought was possible. get good. bitch
Please can I tell you about the Scottish Brick History website?
Found a brick? In Scotland? (Or at least made in Scotland). It will tell you where it was made and in what timeframe! Which was wonderful when I was trying to date a wall Iâd excavated in my garden.
If you want to know something, a human person with the most incredible special interest likely has the answer, and if youâre lucky, they have a blog about it.
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hbo max blocks screenshots even when I use the snipping tool AND firefox AND ublock which is a fucking first. i will never understand streaming services blocking the ability to take screenshots thats literally free advertising for your show right there. HOW THE HELL IS SOMEBODY GONNA PIRATE YOUR SHOW THROUGH SCREENSHOTS. JACKASS
somewhere out there is a guy who meticulously takes screenshots of every individual frame of his favorite tv shows and then painstakingly etches each one onto a roll of film which he puts into his old timey projector and recreates the footage as a silent film with his own lavishly hand-lettered dialogue cards and original score that he plays on his upright piano and charges audiences one shiny penny a play. at last, big media has finally outsmarted ol' Zachary Zoetrope
PSA for everyone who doesn't know, explained simply
this is NOT because of blocking screenshots, it's because of HOW streaming sites use your computer's hardware to optimise performance, which means the thing rendering the video and the thing capturing your screen aren't the SAME thing. so they can't talk together.
you can fix this by going to your browser settings, searching for "hardware acceleration", and turning that off.
I found these in an old folder and had to share them with you. They're the product of the - I think now infamous - Penguin book cover generator: I certainly remember getting some eyerolls when I posted them at the time!
I know the adage never judge a book by its cover, but it always frustrated me as a student of Literature how esoteric book covers could be with their art.
Now I'm a teacher of Literature - of some fifteen years, no less - and I love it.
This was my self-assigned brief one afternoon during a COVID lockdown in 2020 when I was - as I always seem to be - in the middle of an OCS rewatch. That, and the images had to be Creative Commons only, which they were in 2020 at least.
Here are the first 16 episodes of Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons if they'd been novelised! I could never settle on the art for Spectrum Strikes Back so I made two versions - the rifle more directly evokes the episode's aesthetic, but the spilt indigo dye felt too awesome to leave out.
I was also insistent on referring to Episode 1 as 2068 AD, not because I ever thought that what we get in the first shot of Mars was the actual title card but simply because I thought it sounded cooler than just The Mysterons. I tend to err back on the side of The Mysterons now that I'm older and don't see any excitement in being contrary! I've left it unedited.
I found these in an old folder and had to share them with you. They're the product of the - I think now infamous - Penguin book cover generator: I certainly remember getting some eyerolls when I posted them at the time!
I know the adage never judge a book by its cover, but it always frustrated me as a student of Literature how esoteric book covers could be with their art.
Now I'm a teacher of Literature - of some fifteen years, no less - and I love it.
This was my self-assigned brief one afternoon during a COVID lockdown in 2020 when I was - as I always seem to be - in the middle of an OCS rewatch. That, and the images had to be Creative Commons only, which they were in 2020 at least.
Here are the final 16 episodes of Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons if they'd been novelised, plus homages to the two original Super Space Theatre compilations and Anderon Entertainment's recently-announced SST homage of their own - accordingly, my apologies that this most recent effort is a little out of step with the others.
With my appreciation to Spectrum-Headquarters.com for the screencaps above.
I've said earlier how much I love the fact that Captain Scarlet & The Mysterons actually has a continuity and, broadly speaking, three big narrative arcs that run through it: the hunt for Captain Black, Operation S.W.O.R.D. and the war of nerves in general as each side learns more about the other.
Despite being someone who is very ready to hand wave, suspend disbelief and sternly remind folks 'it's just a film/show/game/book', Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons, to my mind, comes so tantalisingly close to landing one of its narrative arcs flawlessly that it's a shame it stumbles over it a bit.
Sure, Operation S.W.O.R.D. maddeningly never gets launched, and it's absolutely fine that the fight to capture Captain Black continues apace, but it's that final arc in the list - and really the show's first that it establishes - that could have opened and closed cleanly (but doesn't) and that we're going to look at now: the war of nerves and how each side progressively sizes the other up and, within that, the Mysterons, who have, as various members of the cast keenly remind us throughout the series, "powers we can never hope to understand."
Now as with all Anderson shows, you've got your production order and broadcast order, but this isn't so much of a problem given that your 'big' (and it isn't big at all) issue in the first ten episodes only comes down to whether you think Point 783 or Manhunt comes first. It doesn't matter for this post, because the key problem is that Manhunt comes before Operation Time.
Everything else in that first ten episodes is in the same order whether you watch it in production or broadcast order - and that's crucial, because there are three absolutely vital (and one incidental) anchor points in that first ten: The Mysterons itself, obviously, Operation Time (when we learn two key Mysteron weaknesses) and Spectrum Strikes Back, when all of this is consolidated into gadgets to take into the second series arc.
That fourth, incidental anchor point? Winged Assassin, which very clearly sets out its stall as a direct follow-on from The Mysterons. This, in itself though, isn't the issue.
This all works really nicely when you don't think about it too hard - Spectrum loses in episode two, setting out that this isn't going to the weekly good guys' victory lap, and then enjoys some success in episodes 3 and 4 (let's put Point 783 first), so the Mysterons are a serious and credible threat. Operation Time teaches us what it does about the Mysterons and Spectrum Strikes Back gives us the electron gun and Mysteron detector, even if we never see the former again and the latter - perhaps in danger of 'sonic screwdriver syndrome' - finds itself handwaved out of episodes, sinking into Monte Carlo bay in Model Spy and being outright forbidden in Lunarville 7 (like that wasn't a giveaway!)
"Hold up there," I hear you say. You forgot Manhunt. Yep, and that's the one teeny, irritating issue in what would have been perfect. Manhunt is beautifully timed. After a month's viewing and what is, let's face it, basically a draw, we get a glorious and very personal showdown between Earth and Mars, and the continuity comes apart in two little moments, one I can handwave, one I can't.
The first is Captain Black's escape. He waits the best part of 24 hours to then - smartly - return to Culver, irradiate Symphony, put her in the SPV and steal away. Except, we see in Heart of New York and Model Spy that he can just dematerialise. Now, I've got a few answers as to why he doesn't do that and they're all (in my view at least) interesting:
The radiation did something to Black's ability to dematerialise. We know that the Mysterons' powers are very much centred around matter and molecules and that various sorts of energy are disruptive to these. I can see radiation playing as much havoc with Mysteron capabilities as electricity. There's nothing saying he didn't dematerialise after passing through the decontamination unit at Culver, assuming he didn't just head elsewhere conventionally.
The dematerialisation is something the Mysterons develop after the incident. They boast of reversing matter to the humans in episode one and it's of course clear from the get-go that they can influence and alter matter in-situ. We see this as early as Scarlet and Brown's car accident and then DT-19 and Macey's truck all before the credits have rolled on the third episode. It makes total sense, though, that once at war they would accelerate their progress and learn to affect matter by moving where it is, not just altering how or what it is.
(Although really, this is kind of a '2b') The Mysterons, not Black, control the dematerialisation. It works nicely in Model Spy in that there's a moment where it seems Black is truly trapped and then he and Helga vanish with a last second save from the Mysterons. If anything, I think it's a shame that we see this ability before Model Spy but I also get why Heart of New York seeds it for the viewer - and both the production and broadcast orders support this seeding. Heart of New York could be read either way: Black seems in no hurry to reverse or leave the car. He either knows the Mysterons will pull him out or controls the process.
So we can fairly nicely explain that several ways. The big issue for me is the poor mechanic in Stone Point Village.
By the way, I like the ongoing trope, however accidental, of Black wreaking havoc on the lives of the ordinary and the unnoticed. Petrol station attendants really seem to come in for it for some reason.
The Mysteron reconstruction falls foul of a Captain Scarlet with an absolutely zero tolerance for administrative and security failures and catches a bullet for forgetting to ask for ID. What, one wonders, does Scarlet do to Spectrum agents who really mess up?
Anyhow, all joking aside, this is the one irritating point for me: we learn in subsequent episodes, especially Spectrum Strikes Back and The Launching, that dropping the Mysteron to the floor with a bullet is not the end of the story, except here it would seem to be. I'm at least glad that Manhunt happens before Operation Time, else this would be really bad. As it is, it's the first time we see a Mysteron agent shot that wasn't Captain Scarlet, and it is presented as such a non-event when it is anything but.
Of course, we forgive it as a little behind-the-scenes goof and we remember and respect that this makes a hell of an effort on continuity for a 1960s, televised show that is, nominally, for children.
To be fair, I can also just chalk it up to Scarlet being sloppy sometimes. He's slapping himself roundly on the back at the end of The Launching and seems genuinely surprised that Brand gets back to his feet. I can equally imagine that he and Blue nab the SPV tout-suite and it doesn't even occur to them to check the Mysteron agent definitely isn't moving.
Suddenly, forgetting to ask for ID doesn't seem so bad after all, eh?
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Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo weâve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and itâs revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.
This is what I tend to wake up to every morning.. đâ⏠he knows when the alarm usually rings so he starts a bit before, dare I say he might be the best masseur in the country đ
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9. Debridement
(noun)
the surgical removal of lacerated, devitalized, or contaminated tissue
Once the credits started to play, Paul only delayed his trip to the gym long enough to get changed. He needed to finish getting his emotions out before the others went on to standby and had their chance to watch it; if he was going to help them decompress, he needed to blow off steam first, otherwise theyâd set each other off like so many blocks of C4. The emotional catharsis of it would have been so very visceral and so very, very satisfying, but it would not have helped the situation. They needed to be calm and controlled, not infuriated and ready to make rash decisions.
With a certain clinical detachment, Scarlet fished his wraps out of his locker in the changing room, wound and wove them over knuckles and between fingers, then strode into the officerâs gym. Heâd heard the dull thudding of fists into canvas while he was getting the wraps on, now he could see the source: Colonel White, sweat making dark triangles on his tee-shirt as he pounded the punching bag.
âHe was down here before it even finishedâŠâ Without a word, Scarlet steadied the bag for White, who acknowledged him with a short nod before returning to pounding the bag.
It didnât take an oracle to divine why the Old Man was here. As a man who prided himself on discerning fact from fiction, of seeing through lies and illusions, to find out how thoroughly heâd been tricked would have been a bitter pill to swallow. âAnd it very nearly workedâŠâ was the thought that Paul allowed himself. If it hadnât been for Cobalt getting shot and Five boarding the base to get to his brother, kicking off the chain of events that led to them digging deeper, UnNamed would have been able to take the election in a clean sweep and plant his flag on Mars only a few short years later, his empire built on the backs of literal slaves.
âAnd that man would have had access to so many of our secrets... would the knowledge of the War have stopped him? Or would it have spurred him on to announce himself as the one to officially make first contact with intelligent alien life? And what would he have done with me?â Paul shivered at the thought. âAll going well, weâll never get to find out.â
The pounding on the bag stopped. White paused long to suck down air and water in roughly equal quantities and wipe the sweat off his face and neck with a towel, then he was steadying the bag and bracing himself. âYour turn, Captain.âÂ
Scarlet nodded, rolled his shoulders, and unleashed his fury on the canvas.
T H U N D E R F A L LÂ
"Hello, darling."Â
Startled, Gordon bounced out of the pew and to his feet. "Penny!" His heart settled down a little, Parker was behind the hover chair. "Uh.. how did you find me?" The interfaith chapel in the early part of the morning would have been the last place for someone to look for him. Well, maybe not Salt or Virgil, but everyone else, yeah. Waking to find Scott and Kayo gone and knowing what his brother would be doing, heâd left the iso pod when the nurses came to check on John and Virgil, watched the broadcast and then came straight here to clear his head.
"I asked Cloudbase, and he most kindly told me." She held out one hand to him and patted Parker's on the handle with the other. "I'll be fine here, Parker. You should check on Lil, I'm sure she can use some company."Â
"h'If you're sure, M'Lady?" It wasn't that Parker didn't trust Gordon, just that M'Lady was - fragile right now.Â
"Captain Xanthic will take excellent care of me."Â
Gordon took her hand and kissed the knuckles gently. "I'll protect her as much as she'll let me." Which was pretty much the best statement Gordon could make. It was the one that Parker did himself.
"As you say, M'Lady." He gave Gordon a look and got a nod back. "Hiâll will be back in an 'our m'lady, Doctor Burgundy wan's 'o check your dressin."
"I promise not to leave this room for any other reason than the base falling out of the sky."
Gordon took over pushing the chair and parked it next to the pew he'd been sitting on. He sat back down and took Penny's hand, running his thumb over her first two knuckles in slow circles.
She reached over and ran her free hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk, darling?"
Gordon leaned into the affection like a giant cat. â...I donât know... itâs... like... I know about what happened, but now I know about what happened.â He stared out the windows for a long time, silent and still.
Penelope let him think. She too had a lot to ponder. While sheâd come late into the game and young as she was at the time, the thought that she or her father should have seen something, that they should have detected something... it was a thought that sat heavily on her soul, hard and sharp and jagged like so much broken glass.
â...Scottâs getting, like, the biggest Squid hug I can make happen,â Gordon said at last. âHeâs shielded me and Al from more than I realised.â
âWhere is he?â Penelope asked, her fingers sifting through his hair again. âI daresay that this is not a time for him to be alone with his thoughts for too long.â
âHe and Kayo slipped out of Medical while the rest of us were asleep. If heâs not in his room, heâll be in the hiding spot on the Promenade.â
She pursed her lips. "I'd say we should go seek him out, but I promised Parker I'd stay here."
"And I promised to keep you safe." Gordon took a slow breath.Â
She ran her fingers through his hair again. "Cloud?"
Yes, Lady Penelope?
"Can you tell me where Captain Cobalt is, please?"
I am very sorry, Lady Penelope, but I cannot. He has requested privacy.Â
"I see." She tilted her head for a moment. "Can you tell us if he is alone? Because if he is, that is not healthy for him right now."
Silence stretched on for over a minute while Cloud mulled over the question. I can tell you that Captain Cobalt is not alone. He still requests privacy.Â
"Thank you, Cloud. That was most kind of you." She smiled at the small camera in the corner above the window.Â
You are welcome, Lady Penelope.
Penny laced her fingers with Gordonâs. âI understand if you are not quite ready to talk in detail yet, but when you are, I am here.â
Gordon gave her hand a little squeeze and offered her a weak, but genuine smile. âSame here, gorgeous, same here.â With that he leaned his head against her shoulder and they sat together until Parker came to fetch Penelope back.
T H U N D E R F A L LÂ
Triage, Virgil decided, was a word he didnât like very much right now.Â
He'd woken up just as the nurses arrived and Gordon left, and while he wasn't happy about why Gordon was leaving, he understood.Â
The problem was that he also wanted to see the broadcast, if only to be able to help Scott to carry his burden a little better, but with the injuries he had and the strain his body was under, it had been explained to him that âgetting healthyâ was a bigger priority than âknowingâ, that he had to triage himself above watching the expose, and that he had very hard limits right now. âThe docâs right,â was his sour conclusion. âI wonât rest, much less sleep if I watch it, and I need that right now. Iâll crash if I donât get enough rest and I canât afford a crash right now.â
A glance at Alan, curled up between him and a recently awakened John, reassured him that the youngest was still drowsing, then Virgil turned his attention back to what he was working on in lieu of watching the broadcast. The notebook in front of him was covered in angry shapes, dark and sharp lines as he tried to get his emotions out of his head.
He was in the middle of laying down a band of brick red when the intercom buzzed, getting both his and Johnâs attention and a muffled snort out of Alan.
âHello, itâs Doctor Orchid, may I come in?â
Virgil looked over at John, who nodded.
"Sure, Doctor." Part of him wanted to make himself more presentable. This was the first time he'd be meeting her in person. But she'd seen him at his absolute lowest, medical scrubs wouldn't bother her.Â
The door slid open to reveal an older woman of medium height, with grey hair streaked with white and kind blue eyes. She dressed like no one else they'd seen on Cloudbase so far; a brilliant tunic style shirt in colours that Gordon would have loved, over a long black skirt.Â
She turned the recliner around more to face him and made herself comfortable in it. "I'm sorry it's under these circumstances, but I'm very glad to see you in person, Two."Â
Virgil set his crayon aside. "Me too."
Her smile was soft. "So, who are your friends?"
"Oh. Uh - Doctor Orchid, this is Five." He gestured at John, "and this is our brother Three." Virgil looked down fondly at the form curled up next to him.Â
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance Five. I've heard a great deal about you."
John's face stilled. "Oh?" How such a simple syllable could have that much weight was beyond Virgil's knowledge.Â
"You stormed and boarded Cloudbase, you sent Security and Technology into tizzies, and you made the Colonel swear, and in my presence, no less." Her smile was fond. "I have heard many things about you."
"Oh." The embarrassment that showed on John's face also filled the word.
She nodded to the notebook. âIâm glad to see youâre still journaling, is it helping?â
âIt is,â Virgil nodded, fidgeting with his crayon.
âGood.â Orchid resettled herself in the chair, rearranging the folds of her skirt. âWe donât need to discuss anything big right now, Iâll come back later so we can talk in private,â she started, âbut I wanted to visit, I know what itâs like to be shut away when everything is happening just out there and you desperately want to be on the front lines where you belong.â In answer to Johnâs querying look, Orchid pointed at her right eye. âProsthetic. Once upon a time I was a WAAF med-evac helicopter pilot until some career-ending shrapnel. There was too much damage to the nerve for a cybernetic one.â
âIâm sorry,â John told her, and he was. Losing a job that you loved... well, there were reasons why he and Virgil had stuck it out.
âThank you,â Orchid nodded to him, then she smiled, a wicked twinkle in her eye. âSo, how many languages can you swear in, Five? Iâm always looking for new ways to get my point across with the captains.â Her smile turned conspiratorial. âI suspect that half the time they just like the shock value of hearing a grandmother-type like me swear about their problems, so I like to surprise them with something new every now and again.â
Virgil and John exchanged a look, then a slight smile tugged at Johnâs mouth. âHow familiar are you with Finnish and Hungarian?â he asked.
T H U N D E R F A L LÂ
It felt like he hadnât seen the inside of his quarters in days. It hadnât been, but thanks to how the Room of Sleep mucked with his internal clock, it sure felt like it.
Blue dragged himself inside, shucked off his uniform and sank onto his couch with a weary groan. The RoS was good, but it wasnât a proper rest, not by a long shot. A few minutes of flopping, then he grabbed his personal phone off the coffee table to check for any messages and see if his broker had been able to scoop up any more TI shares, then heâd crash out for two hours before going back onto standby.Â
Well, that had been his intention, but on the list of waiting messages was one that had him freezing.Â
It was from his father.Â
Adam steeled himself and opened it.
'Adam, please call me as soon as you get this.â
That was it, ten simple words, nine if you didn't count his name. It could mean anything, but since it was after the expose, he had a decent idea what this might be about. Dreading it wouldn't get it over any faster.
The call connected on the first ring, "Adam?""Hi Dad." Adam kept his voice as bland as possible. "Everyone okay?" Which he really hoped wasn't the reason for his father calling.
"What? Oh, no, everyone is fine." There was silence, then, "This is what you were talking about when you visited."
There was no need to explain what 'this' was. "Yes, sir."
"That damn slimy bastard!"
Adam blinked, his father didn't swear. "Dad?"
"All that is true, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir, it is."
There was a sharp intake of breath. "This isn't insider trading, and I'm sorry I accused you of that."
Adam blinked, his father never apologised.
"I'm going to buy every damn share I can and force that bottom feeder out. Again, I'm sorry."
The line went dead and Adam was left looking at his phone, stunned. He'd never seen this side of his father before. Ever.Â
He would have been lying if he said that it didn't give him a spark of hope: for the first time in a very long time, he and his father were on the same side.
T H U N D E R F A L LÂ
Curled up on the bed in the VIP quarters allocated to Kayo, Scott lay with his head on her lap, one of her hands stroking his brow and the other on his shoulder, and found that he quite simply didnât have any tears left to cry.
Secrets and shame that heâd carried for literal decades were now laid out for the consumption by the viewing public, to be taken apart and analysed by pundits, talking heads, panels, armchair psychologists and chat show hosts. Itâd be the subject of blogs, vlogs, podcasts, re-runs, tabloids, documentaries and news headlines. Journalists would be shoving their microphones before anyone they could find with a possible link to him, and of course thereâd be the vultures, people happy to leap in and make a claim on camera for a quick buck and a few minutes of fame.
His history was out in the open now, and there was more to come.
âI donât know what Iâd be doing if I didnât have Kayo right now,â was his thought. Around his brothers he wouldnât have been able to cry. And yes, while heâd had a proverbial smack upside the head about being the âlone guardâ when the Mercy Protocol had been activated in Ireland, this... this was different. This was all the things heâd been protecting his brothers from since they were kids, and he couldnât let them see him like this, not yet. They still needed him to be strong, unshaken, the anchor for their world now tossed upside down and inside out. What had happened in the physio bathroom with Alan had only reinforced that.
But it was safe to fall apart here, in front of her.
He didnât need to put that mask up for Kayo. He could show her all his cracks, his flaws and frailties, and he could safely lean on her for the strength he just didnât have right now.
Scott reached out and found her knee, tapping out âThank youâ and âI love youâ, before starting to sit up. There was work to do, family to check on, and heâd been here for plenty long enough.
The gentle hand on his shoulder became iron, pressing him back into place. âOh no you donât,â Kayo informed him, brooking absolutely no opposition. âYouâre off duty. You arenât going anywhere just yet.â
Scott sank back down, warmed by the ferocity in her voice and the message it sent: He was safe. He was loved. He was cared for. He was protected. âI needed that reminder.âÂ
Well wrung out by everything that had happened, Scott let himself doze off, knowing his beloved was watching over him.Â
T H U N D E R F A L LÂ
Standing in his office, the muted credits still rolling, Lord Hugh Creighton-Ward impatiently waited for his phone call to connect.Â
âFather?âÂ
"Penelope, please tell me that some of that - report - was exaggerated." Lord Hugh ran a hand through his hair, not caring that he was ruining his valet Dorian's handiwork on his 'lion's mane', as the papers liked to call it. He had no idea what the time was in the safe bolt hole she was in, but he had to have the truth of the matter as quickly as possible to inform his next moves.
There was a soft sigh from the speaker. "I wish I could Father, but I rather suspect that some parts were understated."Â
"Damnation." Which was the strongest language he would use, then he shook himself. "First things first; is Scott safe?"
"He is as safe as he can possibly be."Â
"I should hope so, if he's under Spectrum's aegis." Hugh started to pace around his desk, confident that the microphone would pick up his voice. "My broker has called me twice to make sure that I still want to buy any loose Tracy Industries stock." He chuckled, "Rachel is sure I've lost my mind."Â
"Are you having doubts, Father?"
"Absolutely not!" Hugh turned to glare at his desk. "I was certain that things couldn't have been as bad as you made them out to be, but - " he shook his head. "I should have known better than to think that you would exaggerate anything, my dear."Â
"I rather wish I had." There was a very delicate sniff. "Father, how did we miss this?"
Hugh sighed, "It's not that we missed it, my darling. It's that our vision was clouded by charm, cunning, and slippery words from someone we thought we could trust." He returned to his desk and sat down heavily, worn by the things he'd overlooked. "How is your young man?"
"He too is safe. Spectrum has him and the others."Â
"Thank goodness for that!" Hugh looked at the messages flashing on the discreet screen on the side of his desktop. "Penelope, my dear, I have to go. I love you and stay safe."Â
"I will do my best. I love you too, stay safe."Â
Hugh made sure that the call ended before he let the snarl cross his lips. "There will be ice skating in Hell before I speak to you again Jeff Tracy!" A decisive jab of his finger, and he deleted the waiting messages. Another button press connected him to his valet. âDorian, have my bags packed for a standard business trip, three days. Tell Katerina I need the first flight to Boston that she can find, a car reserved there, an air taxi waiting to take me from Boston to New York at a momentâs notice, and a car and a hotel room there as well.âÂ
âYes sir.â Dorian sounded utterly nonplussed by the sudden change of plans. âThere is a flight in four hours and I will have a car meet you at the airport.âÂ
âPerfect.â Lord Hugh checked on his information - and specifically who else was buying shares - confirmed his suspicions, then swept up his phone and tablet, plans clicking into place.Â
He had recruiting to do.
T H U N D E R F A L LÂ
In her room at the Plaza in New York, Ruth âSallyâ Tracy checked the caller ID on her phone, saw it was yet another person from Kansas and ignored it. She didnât have the time or the energy to spend on talking to yet another gossip who wanted to know if it was true and fish for more under the guise of false sympathy or a veneer of care and compassion.
She hadnât watched the expose. She couldnât, not yet, not with all the work that she had to do on behalf of the children that sheâd failed. If she did sheâd fall apart, and she absolutely couldnât lose momentum, not now. âBut theyâre safe now, theyâre all safe and theyâre well away from him,â she reassured herself, soothing a small fraction of how heartsick she was over it all.Â
The phone buzzed again for attention. A check and she accepted this call. âHello, Lord Creighton-Ward.â Â
âGood afternoon, Dr. Tracy,â he replied, warm and sincere as he continued on with âI have just spoken with Penny, she reports that she and her household are safe and well. Have you heard from the boys?âÂ
âI have, theyâre safe.âÂ
âI am glad to hear that,â Hugh responded, then switched to a more professional tone. âAddressing the business at hand, I wish to confirm I shall be in New York by six thirty tomorrow evening. As we discussed earlier Iâm going to Boston first to lure in that Svenson chap you mentioned. All going well, we three shall meet for dinner at eight at Harvest to firm up our strategy.âÂ
âThat sounds good to me. Thank you, Lord Hugh.âÂ
âYou are most welcome, Dr. Tracy,â Lord Creighton-Ward responded, then his tone gentled again. âDo take care of yourself, my dear.âÂ
âIâll try, Lord Hugh, Iâll try.â
âThat is all I ask. Good bye.âÂ
âGood bye.âÂ
The line clicked off and Ruth turned back to her many piles of paper. This had to be absolutely air tight with zero wiggle room if this was going to work.Â
