#colonel white

A snuffle and a snort was Juniper, yawning and stretching in his seat - and yep, just as Scott had guessed, rubbing at his neck with a wince. “Oy, and this is why the nurses got that special visitor’s chair,” Juniper muttered, then scrubbed his eyes and blinked at them. “Ah, morning lads.” He checked his watch and scowled at it. “And yes it is morning. Just after four.” Juniper rubbed at his face again with a grumbled “Ochre has a point when it comes to this hour, very unpleasant.” Looking slightly more awake, he turned his attention back to them. “Well now, what do you lads need first?”

“Bathroom,” was Scott’s answer for them both, then he sniffed at his undershirt and made a face. It was high tech, moisture-wicking fabric with an antimicrobial coating, designed for people being active in it for long periods of time, but everything had its limits. “Clean clothes and food.” Scott slid out of the bed, stretched, and got his uniform back on. Yes, he was off duty, but wearing it was easier than carrying it. Alan eased off the bed, moving more like a man in his nineties and not one just starting his twenties. "Squirt?"

Alan stretched, winced as things popped, and gave himself a shake. "I'll live, SmotherOne." The nickname was gentled with a lopsided grin.

"Did you want to try to get back to your quarters, Cobalt?" Juniper asked as he copied the stretches and Alan's wince.

Scott shook his head. "I'm trying to stay on Fawn's good side, the physio room showers should be good enough. We can live in Medical greens for a couple of hours." 

"Fair enough." Juniper paused. "Would you like some company?"

Scott smiled, "That's okay Pastor. I promise we won't collapse if you go to your quarters. I'm sure your back would prefer your own bed." 

Juniper chuckled and opened the door to allow his charges to pass into the main area of Medical. It wasn't lost on Scott that they were now bracketing Alan between them; physical protection, even in a place of safety, was important. Scott was also not surprised to see Scarlet slumped in one visitor's chair with his feet up on the other, arms crossed over his chest and 'Cap pulled down so he could 'check for light leaks'.

“I’ll go ask the nurses for some scrubs for you two. Do you need anything from your room?” Juniper asked as he ushered them across to the physio room.

“No, not yet.” Scott told him. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye as Scarlet roused, peeking out at them from underneath his ‘Cap. Scott waved the senior officer off with a discreet gesture. Three was a crowd, four was too many and he didn’t want to chance overwhelming Alan right now.

They reached the physio room without incident, Scott finding towels while Juniper went off to ask for sets of scrubs for them and the mini toiletries kits that Medical kept for patients (and visitors that refused to leave). Both were handed over and Juniper carefully made his way out of Medical, very much in need of his own bed.

Scott came back to the physio room to find Alan standing in front of a shower cubicle, staring at his hands. Scott set the things down and moved to stand just inside arm's reach and within Alan's field of view. "Allie?" Scott hated the fact he was using the 'calm the terrified victim' voice on his littlest brother, but it was the only tool he had at the moment. 

Alan looked up, eyes wide and pupils blown open. "I - I -"

"Oh, Allie." Scott moved forward to pull Alan into a hug, only to have Alan back up out of range. 

"Don't touch me!” Alan choked out the words. “I'm - I'm not -" "Don't." Scott spread his hands out wide. "You aren't stained, you aren't tainted." He took a half step forward. "You are wounded: heart, soul, and mind. But you aren't a bad person." He stepped closer. "You haven't lost my love, there is nothing you could do that could make that happen. I love you, no matter what." Scott was close enough to see the fine tremors moving Alan's form. 

"But - " Alan swallowed, "- I killed people." 

Scott nodded. "You did. I hate the fact that other people made the choices that put you into a place where you had to make that choice. But I don't hate you." Scott moved closer still. "Truthfully? While I hate that you had to kill people, to fight for your life and Lil's, I am so very glad you did." 

Alan blinked at him. "What?"

Scott moved forward again, he was inside Alan's personal space but didn't touch him. "If you hadn't killed those men, they would have killed Lil and taken you. They might have even killed Penny, or Parker, or Kayo. They for certain would have killed Bertie. You stopped that, at a horrible cost, but you stopped it and I am so very glad you did, because that means you are here, alive, with me and the others. Alan, you're our everything."

Alan’s face twisted in an expression that stabbed deep into Scott’s heart.

With a broken half-sob, Alan collapsed against Scott, and just like yesterday, Scott gathered his littlest brother up in his arms and sank to the floor with him, holding him as tightly as he dared. “I’m here Allie, I love you, nothing’s changed that and absolutely nothing ever will, I promise,” Scott murmured the words again and again, stroking Alan’s head and ignoring his own tears that tracked down his face and dripped down his chin at his brother’s pain. ‘I can’t take this away from him, but I can help him through it,’ Scott reminded himself to try and divert his own feeling of utter uselessness. ‘I’m helping him, and that’s the next best thing.’ 

Then there was a hand on his shoulder.

Scott didn’t need to look to know it was Gordon, the next youngest folding himself in beside Alan and adding his arms around them both. Another brief touch on his other shoulder was Kayo, slipping in to join in on the group hug.

What he absolutely did not expect was the sound of IV pole wheels and John and Virgil appearing to carefully join the huddle on the floor. An eyebrow at John got ‘Scarlet got us’ tapped on his arm in Morse.

Finally Alan lifted his head, red eyed and his face wet. Past the point of words, a touch to his chin signed his ‘thank you’ to his family, then he leaned against Scott’s chest, trusting his brother’s strength to hold him up while he had none.

“You’ll be okay if we go back?” Virgil asked quietly. “Scarlet convinced Cloud to let us come out without tattling to the medics, but I don’t know how long we’ve got before we get caught.”

Alan nodded. Shower, he signed, join you after.

“I’ll get Virgil and John back to bed and find some food,” Kayo promised as she lithely got to her feet, then bent to help John up. “Gordon, you’ve got these two?” She nodded to Scott and Alan.

“F.A.B.”

John used the IV pole to steady himself and grumbled under his breath about gravity, while Kayo got Virgil to his feet. She then herded them back to the iso pod. "Cloud?" John said as soon as he'd gotten back in bed. Yes, Five? "Thank you. You didn't have to do that, so thank you."

You are welcome Five. Will Three's operating system be stable again following this reset?

"I - I don't know Cloud. I need to find out what caused the crash in the first place." John turned to Kayo who was not looking at either of them as she tucked Virgil in. "Kayo, do you know what happened?"

She smoothed the blanket over Virgil's legs. "Yes, I do."

"Will you tell us?" Virgil asked in a soft voice.

Kayo straightened and stepped away before Virgil could grab her hand. "No." Her peridot gaze swept over them. "If Alan wants you to know, he'll tell you. If he doesn't, then you will hear no word from me about it." They both opened their mouths to argue the point and she held up a hand. "I said no. This is not open for discussion or argument." She turned. "I need to get some food." She keyed the door, only to find Scarlet on the other side, holding a tray with bowls of soup and cups of fruit.

"Ah… I thought this might be wanted?"

“It is, thank you.” Kayo flicked him a brief smile as she took the tray and placed it on a handy table.

But to her surprise he followed her inside. “If things happen the same way they did last time, this will also be necessary,” he was saying as he unlocked the wheels on John’s bed and shoved the bed and the attached ‘nurse over to meet up with Virgil’s. “I’ll be back with more pillows and blankets,” he said as he locked the wheels, and with that he was gone again.

"Last time?" Virgil asked.

John rubbed the back of his head with care for the line in his arm. "When I got shot, then had the seizure. Scarlet shoved the beds together so we could all touch."

"This would be the same time when Scott hurt himself?" Kayo's eyebrow arched into a curve. 

"Uh - yeah it would." 

"I am going to wrap that man in foam and packing tape, I swear." Kayo plunked a bowl of fruit in front of her brothers. "Eat. I'm going to see if I can locate some more food. I'm pretty sure Scoff hasn't eaten since yesterday."

The commissary has started to serve breakfast, Shadow. There is also a small kitchen in Medical, but that is where Captain Scarlet got those items.

"Thank you very much Cloud." Kayo sought out the small camera. "Thank you also for telling me that Three was having a system crash and needed his support interface reinforced."

I was happy to be of assistance, Shadow. 

Kayo cocked her head. "Will there be any trouble if I'm moving around the base? The Colonel was most insistent that I have a guide the last time I was here." "Has everyone else been here before me?" Virgil grumped.

"No. Just John and myself." 

Visitors are required to have a guide. However, since I can keep observation of you at all times, I do not think the Colonel will mind you going to the commissary and back. Especially at this hour of the morning. Captain Scarlet has told me it is better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission.

“In some things, not all things, Cloud,” Scarlet said as he came back, pushing a recliner with wheels on it and a mound of bedding piled on the seat. “We’ll talk more about that one later.” He parked the recliner on Virgil’s side, but with enough room for someone to squeeze past.

S.I.G.

“Stay here, Miss Kayo, I’ll get more food for everyone,” Scarlet said as he glanced at the occupants of the room, tallying up their condition. “I heard the water stop so I imagine the other three will be here shortly.” He then squared his shoulders. “Kat’s broadcast is going to be showing at 0800 here. You won’t be able to watch it in Medical, Fawn’s already put it on the banned list, but it’ll be recorded and can be accessed later, when you’re released.”

John gave Scarlet a long look. “Are you going to watch it?”

“Yes,” was the frank answer, “I need to know what the battlefield looks like. I’ll be putting dents in the punching bags in the gym afterwards, I imagine the Colonel will be too.”

"You aren't the only one, Scarlet. You have to know, but we're going to remember." Kayo rolled her shoulders. "I'm going to see if Harmony's offer of full contact is still open." 

Scarlet froze for a moment, then slowly turned to face Kayo. "Are you sure that's wise? Harmony can take me down sometimes."

"I took you down in New Haven. The only reason I let you get your knife out is because you were with Scott."

Before Scarlet could do more than open his mouth, the smell of institutional soap wafted in. Scott and Alan appeared in the open doorway, hair still damp from washing. Scott had his arm around their youngest brother and Alan's hands and arms were still red from what must have been a savage scrubbing. They were both dressed in the pale green scrubs of patients, and Gordon was keeping close to them. 

"Scarlet, could you make sure that the Pastor made it back to his quarters?” Scott’s question was quiet.

"Of course." Recognising the subtext of ‘please go away’, the senior captain slipped out of the room. 

"Well, this looks familiar." Gordon said as he made sure to close the door. "So sickies on the outside, good kids in the middle?"

There were some mild snorts of laughter at that. It took several minutes before everyone was settled. This time Alan was in the middle with Scott and Gordon bracketing him. John and Virgil were on the outside to keep their lines from being tangled. Kayo had taken the chair and moved so it was blocking the door just a little. She'd positioned herself for lunging out of it to put herself between her brothers and whatever might be threatening them. Scott raised his eyebrows at her and she shrugged. 

There was a little more shuffling and settling in, the cups of fruit and soup that Scarlet brought in were picked over and slowly consumed, then Virgil stretched a little and indulged in a jaw-cracking yawn. That set off John, Kayo and Scott, and Gordon and Alan followed in short order. 

EOS’ icon popped up on the projector, now moved to one of the wheeled work tables. I will monitor the immediate area, she announced, her lights flushing the pink of care.

As will I, Cloud’s deep bass rumbled. You are safe here, we will protect you.

“Thank you, to the both of you,” Scott murmured for them all, blinking sleepily. Alan was already halfway to the land of Nod, and he could see that the Sandman was winning the battle against the rest of them.

You are welcome, Cobalt, Cloud replied. A pause, then the ambient noises of the base were covered by the sound of waves breaking against a beach and the lights were dimmed to a faint glow.

“Good pick, Cloud,” Gordon yawned and resettled himself, recognising the track as one of his go-tos for when he couldn’t sleep.

One by one, the brothers all dropped off, bar Kayo, who curled up like a cat in the chair, a blanket over her shoulders as she settled in to watch over them all.

It was about half an hour later when Scarlet came back to check on things, a tray of sandwiches and meal bars in hand. He still had Alan’s folding knife in his pocket, reassembled after a meticulous cleaning and being run through an autoclave twice. ‘I don’t know if he’ll want this back, but I’ll make the offer when he’s ready.’ He cracked the door open and peeked in, pleased when he saw the tangle of sleeping forms and the one awake one who touched a finger to her lips for quiet.

A nod, he reached through the door just far enough to place the tray on a workstation, then he closed the door. “Well done, Cloud, well done.”

Thank you, Captain Scarlet. What is your objective now?

Scarlet checked his watch: 0643. “I’m going to relieve Blue while he gets his RoS nap, then I’m going to watch that broadcast.”

...understood. What actions should I take?

“Monitor, observe, keep tabs on the iR people, and be ready for everything and anything,” Paul told him as he headed towards the Officer’s Lounge. “Please don’t call anyone for me while I’m processing the information, not unless I ask. I’m going to need the space to decompress.”

S.I.G.

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Val had gone home for this. Her staff and aide de camp, Lieutenant Janice Rand, had orders to not to disturb her for any reason. Not a call from the World President, not for an unnoticed NEO that promised another KT event, not for aliens landing, there was nothing dire enough to contact her while she watched this. 

Gordon had said this was going to be bad, Cat 5 plus bad, so she'd set things accordingly: both phones turned off, computer and tablet powered down, drapes drawn, and all the windows and doors locked. 

She settled into her chair, clad in sweats with an old bottle of Tim's favourite bourbon and a glass next to her. She despised bourbon, but she had the feeling that mixing this broadcast with something she enjoyed would be a bad idea. She took a deep breath and turned on the screen. 

"Good evening and welcome to the Kat Cavanaugh Show."

The VIP suites on Cloudbase were pretty dang luxurious. Wayne had been expecting something like the rather spartan GDF guest quarters, not a soft bed, a downright obscene bathroom, coffee maker, and a view that no other place on Earth could match. Even the spare bed that had been brought in for him was several grades above what he'd expected. He and Dosela sharing a room hadn't raised any eyebrows. Not that it should have, Parker, Lil, and Bertie were sharing, Brains and MAX were in the third, and the fourth - well nobody had said who was in that one, which was just fine by Wayne. There was more going on than just this mess with Jeff. 

He handed the coffee cup to Dosela and plopped down on the other chair. She took a sip and made a face. "You forgot the salt." 

"You want salt in your coffee, you heathen, then you can make it," Wayne shot back. This had been going on between them as long as they'd been Thunderbirds, things had to be even worse than now before they stopped ragging on each other about coffee. 

They sat in silence for several minutes before Wayne sighed and set his cup down. "We're going to watch it, aren't we." It really wasn't a question.

"We watch it now and know, or we watch it later after we've gone face first into a tide pool." She reached for the remote. "It's already started, maybe it won't be that bad?"

Wayne rather doubted that, especially after how they'd had to escape, but they could hope. "Only one way to find out." 

"Yeah." Dosela activated the screen. 

". . .  most children don't have multiple broken bones before their tenth birthday…"

Scarlet had taken the precaution of putting everything easily breakable into his bathroom. What he hadn't done was hide his knives. Which was a mistake he was going to pay for with Maintenance. 

He looked with a bit of chagrin at the knife sticking out of the wall, next to the screen. He ran his hands through his hair as he paced through the ad break. God, he wanted to grab an Interceptor, hunt down Unnamed, and let out the part of himself that he kept locked up. Not that it would fix anything, it would in fact, actually make things worse, but dear GOD, he wanted to. They weren't even halfway through the hour yet, and there was more of this to come? 

His heart ached for Scott, for all of the Tracys as well, but especially for Scott, who'd known what was coming, who'd lived through all this, now having it spread out for the world to see. 

‘He is a far braver man than I had even imagined.’

"Welcome back to the Kat Cavanaugh Show. We now turn to the police reports of Scott Tracy being found unattended, wandering the streets at night…"

White’s eyes were as hard as glacial ice as he stood and watched the images on the screen. 

Alone in his cabin, rubbing his St Brendan medallion between finger and thumb, he castigated himself once again for having missed so much. The rawness of his emotions was somewhat surprising in retrospect and he gave that a moment of consideration, searching out why. ‘I have been exposed to much of the darker side of humanity… but perhaps it is because I am seeing these things from someone I thought I knew, and knowing this was done to the young man that I know…’ was his bitter conclusion.

He pulled his thoughts back outwards as Kat started talking again. 

“...teachers at his schools all reported signs of neglect, but aside from rare cases, these were never investigated…” 

"J'aurais dû faire plus que simplement le gifler! J'aurais dû le poignarder!"  - I should have done more than just slap him! I should have stabbed him! Destiny stormed around  the Amber Room. Symphony and Melody were in the ready seats, while Rhapsody was Angel One, listening in from the cockpit. Harmony was the one living up to her name and sitting calmly on the circular couch. Though, for anyone who knew her, they would have seen her eyes narrowed and hard. 

In many ways, Cobalt was an unofficial Angel. He'd flown combat, been a test pilot, and helped build and maintain some of the most impressive aircraft on the planet. Pilot was his first language with Maths as his second. Chances were good if he wasn't on duty, on a mission, or in his quarters, he could be found in the Amber Room. They were as protective of him as they were themselves. 

"Je vais l'éviscérer comme une anguille et le pendre…"  - I'll gut him like an eel and hang him…

"Destiny, come sit down." Harmony ordered quietly. "The next segment is about to begin." 

The Angel leader sat down with a snarl. "Le meurtre est toujours une option, n'est-ce pas?" - Murder is still an option, yes?

"I sure hope so, sughar. I sure hope so." Melody answered, lips thinned and eyes hard. “And if it is, we’re all gonna help.” 

"Welcome back to the Kat Cavanaugh Show. Now we turn to the question of Gordon Tracy, I've only been told that…"

Having been released from Medical but still confined to a hover chair, Penelope wished she could pace the length of the VIP suite. Getting up and pacing would be far preferable to just sitting here like a lump. More than that, she wished she could get up, get into FAB1 and personally deal to the wretch. She’d already been in touch with her father and updated him on what had happened at the Manor so that trusted persons could be sent to put everything back to rights. At the same time she had also cautioned him to not do anything rash, to follow the plan and swoop in to scoop up the shares that would undoubtedly already be being shed. 

‘I must give myself that advice as well,’ Penelope reminded herself. ‘Wait and be ready, respond, not react. But it is so very hard.’

Sherbert whimpered, sensing her distress, and nudged at her for more petting. Parker’s hand, lightly touching her right shoulder, was a welcome anchor to the here and now, away from the horrible things her dear friends, her beloved, and their family had gone through, and Lil was a comforting presence on her left, muttering under her breath about what she could do with a cheese grater and hot oil. 

“‘E’s not gonna get h-another chance t’ ‘urt ‘im, Milady,” Parker reassured her. “An h’even h’if ‘e slithers out h’of this, I know a chap or two ‘o owe me a favour.” 

“Thank you Parker.” Penny managed a weak smile, then turned back to the screen. 

“At the time there were serious questions raised about the condition of the other Tracy sons…”

Only a small portion of Cloud’s conscious attention was on the broadcast itself. 

The events described tracked with the reports that had already been uncovered and in the archives that EOS had shared with him. None of this information was new, the events described had all happened quite some time ago, and he had already been briefed on what he was not permitted to do to remedy the situation.

What did occupy the bulk of his conscious attention was what he could do in the here and now to assist matters in a way that would not violate his prior instructions.

[The stated objective of releasing this information is to destroy the public persona created by UnNamed], Cloud mused to himself. [His credibility needs to be attacked in the public space as that is where he is making his bid for world president. If the voters can be sufficiently swayed against him, then his objectives will fail. But he must be planning a response to this, it would be illogical for him to not.] 

Technically, he knew that he should keep his focus on his own sphere of responsibility - Spectrum, their mission, and the care and keeping of everyone on this base - but it was not in his programming to remain idle while there was an active threat to persons who were his, and there was an active Spectrum operation concerning this individual and his actions. 

[I must prepare my defences. I have been informed that in some situations the best defence is a good offence… I wonder…] An idea in mind, Cloud reached out to the various archives of the world to see if it could be viable, churning through terabytes of information in picoseconds as he researched social influence and how to construct and deconstruct a public image. A little cross checking for suitable vectors and he had his plan readied in seconds, but his own self-check made him pause. 

This was not an approved action. It was not part of the plan that Colonel White had signed off on. 

[...Captain Scarlet did say that sometimes it is better to ask forgiveness than permission…] Cloud reminded himself, [and I am not performing the action myself, only making a suggestion…Hm. No, I will tell EOS, and she can reach out to the individual. I am still required to not make others aware of myself.] 

Satisfied with his reasoning and his conscience clean, a ping got the attention of the older AI while Cloud bundled up his idea and sent it over for her verdict. 

In her own corner of Cloudbase’s systems, EOS now knew the meaning of the word ‘giddy’. 

Soon, oh so very soon, she and John and the rest of the family would be free of HIM, and the dark shadow that had been over their lives for far too long would be gone. She and John had planned for this moment for so very, very long, and now it was here and very few things could have made her happier. 

The ping from Cloud and the accompanying data packet had her pricking up proverbial ears as she perused the idea, then ran a quick simulation to test the younger AI’s hypothesis. 

((You are correct,)) she sent back to Cloud, ((it is entirely logical that HIS counter-attack will be a personal attack on The Commander’s character, and the characters of everyone else. Brandon Berringer will be a suitable place to start a proactive counter. Leave this with me.)) 

It was simplicity in itself to craft a message. Spoofing Alan’s phone - right now abandoned at the Creighton-Ward Manor - to send it ensured that it would be read by Brandon. 

‘Hey, Bear,’ it read ‘I need a favour, a big one. You know the expose Kat put together? It’s all true. He’s gonna try to destroy Scott after all he’s done, we can’t let him do it. Can you put something out online? ‘#IbelieveScottTracy’ or something?’ 

A pause of only seconds, then she intercepted the reply: ‘Duuuuude I am so across this man! big guy is going hella down!’ 

Extremely well pleased, EOS metaphorically settled in to watch the results.

“That concludes tonight’s show. The second segment will air next week, on the Kat Cavanaugh Show. If you or someone you know is in a similar situation, there are links on my website and a shielded portal to access help, advice, and contact shelters and advocates in your country.” 

Standing in the meeting room with Becky and the analysts she’d found, Tobias uncrossed his arms, blew out a long sigh, and ran both hands through his hair as the credits rolled. 

“Okay, this is going to be a tough one,” he admitted. “Lots of details, lots of things that the average man in the street is going to have a knee-jerk reaction to, and that mention of Scott going into hiding for his safety plus Gordon vanishing too is going to add a ton of credibility to this.” 

“Socials are already starting to trend an ‘I believe Scott Tracy’ hash-tag,” Becky reported after frowning at her tablet. “Analytics say it started with a social media personality, Brandon ‘The Bear’ Berringer, and his fans are boosting it along.” A few more taps, then she scowled. “Damn. Someone’s reposted that thing from the Paris Air Show and tagged Tracy Industries, that’s not going to help.” 

“I thought we buried that!” Tobias scowled. “Any chance we can astro-turf a counter-attack?” 

“Not easily,” that was one of the analysts, a forgettable sort of person despite her neon-green hair. “I’ll get onto brainstorming counters.” 

“We need those character witnesses!” Tobias started pacing. “What about other social media personalities? Like the Lemaires or the Pendergasts? Or entrepreneurs like Tycho Reeves, Lord Creighton-Ward, and Langstrom Fischler? Hell, Colonel Casey’s an old friend of his, so’s Lord Hugh, they should both be coming out swinging! If we can target someone who’s spoken up in favour of Scott and get them to renounce him, even better!” 

“The Lemaires are a last resort, François Lemaire lost a lot of credibility when his ‘I discovered mer-people’ book came out,” the other analyst reported, a man with bottle-blond hair and also a forgettable person. “We can try to reach out to the Pendergasts, Lord Hugh and Tycho Reeves. Langstrom Fischler’s already gone online ranting about Scott, but he’s a fringe crackpot, we can’t link Jeff Tracy to him.” 

“Mud sticks, we need dirt to throw. Jilted lovers, dodgy deals, something, anything!” Tobias ground his teeth. “There’s no way that Scott Tracy or any other Tracy boy is completely clean, no one is!” 

“Chill, Toby,” Becky soothed him, “we’re already digging. And we’ve got a press conference lined up for seven am tomorrow, remember?” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, that’s something.” Tobias stopped and poured himself a coffee that he gulped down in three swallows, then issued his orders. “Break that expose down into chunks, I’m going to check with the lawyers and see if we can get the next broadcast stopped with an injunction or something, then I’ll see how our guy’s going with his speech for the presser.” 

A few minutes after Tobias strode out, the green-haired analyst turned to Becky. “Look, Becky, what if this isn’t exaggerated, what if it is true?  

“I don’t care,” was the simple answer as Becky turned back to her tablet. “So what if a kid got roughed up a few times? No one’s perfect. Scott’s turned out pretty well, our guy’s done great things for the world, and he’s got even better things planned for the future. All this is just crying over milk spilled years ago. Our focus needs to be on getting Jeff Tracy to where he needs to be: behind that great big desk in the office of the World President.” 

“...The second segment will air next week, on the Kat Cavanaugh Show. If you or someone you know is in a similar situation, there are links on my website and a shielded portal to access help and advice, and contact shelters and advocates in your country.” 

In his penthouse office at Tracy Tower New York, Jeff leaned back in his chair as the credits scrolled, fingers drumming on the armrest. This was… a complication. A well researched, well polished complication that hit all the right emotional buttons. A glance at the wall of screens to his right told him that share prices were already taking an after hours hit, if he couldn't get this turned around his polling was going to go the same direction.

“What absolute horse-shite!” Lee raged, stomping back and forth as he ranted about ungrateful brats and crud-picking journalists looking to stir things up.

Jeff tuned him out. 

Oh he wanted to throw a tantrum as well. More than that he wanted to get his hands on the Bastard and wring his neck personally, like he should have done years ago, but he’d already had his temper fit when the news got back to him that the snatch team at New Haven got there after the bird had flown and then the second team at the Manor got themselves outfoxed by a kid, two women, a geriatric butler and an even more geriatric cook. 

No, no, he couldn’t rage, he had to be cold. Cold, clinical and focused. ‘That’s how revenge is best served, anyway,’ Jeff mused to himself. ‘I’ll say my piece to the camera tomorrow and let the lawyers battle it out. If anyone asks, I won’t be able to comment since it’s under active investigation in the courts. The news cycle will get bored of it in a week or two, then there’ll be a disaster the GDF can’t handle and I’ll be able to play it in my favour because iR got shut down by the Bastard sabotaging everything. Then when I’m elected, I’ll clean house, starting with Spectrum and the GDF, and work my way down.’

He turned his attention back to his surroundings just as Lee snarled “I’m gonna call that station and give ‘em a piece of my mind!” 

“No Lee, that’s what they want,” Jeff told him as he got up and went to the drinks cabinet. Pouring a scotch for each of them, Jeff walked back to Lee and put a glass into his hand. “If you call up to yell that’ll be front and centre of the next broadcast. You mean well, old friend, but they’ll twist your words against me.” 

“...yeah, you’re right, like always. Sorry Jeff.” Lee looked abashed as he turned the cut crystal Saint-Louis glass in his hand. 

“Don’t worry about it Lee, you're wanting to set the record straight, and that means a lot to me.” Jeff gave him an easy smile and clapped his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat, we’ve got a lot of work to do.” 

“You got it, pal.” 

T H U N D E R F A L L 

Scott knew the broadcast would be well over by the time he managed to get away from his family, but he had to see it, so he waited, dozing lightly and biding his time as messed up circadian rhythms, the after effects of adrenaline and straight up exhaustion made his family doze off one by one. Even Kayo had eventually fallen asleep, curled up under her blanket like a cat.

Once he was sure they were all out for the count, he'd then snuck out without waking the others. 

Well, he'd tried to sneak out without waking the others, but sneaking past Kayo? Not within his current skill set. 

She'd ghosted after him, caught up to him just outside Medical and steered him away from his quarters and into her quarters in the VIP section. Once inside with the door securely locked, she'd just held him and he let her. 

"You don't have to do this,” she murmured to him. “I'm more than . . ." He wiggled an arm free and laid a finger on her lips. "I do. I don't want to, dear God, I don't want to, but I need to." 

She nodded and tugged him over to the bed, sat him down, and then curled herself around him. Covering his back with her body, legs around his waist, arms under his, her chin lightly resting on his shoulder. Holding him, protecting him, keeping him safe. "Saya sayang awak." 

"I love you too." He settled back into her embrace. "Cloud?" Yes Captain Cobalt?"Please don't tell anyone where I am. Not until I say otherwise, not even the Colonel."

Are you requesting privacy?

"Yes, full privacy." Acknowledged. 

"Thanks, Cloud. Would you please play the recording of the Kat Cavanaugh show." Affirmative

“Thanks."

It was now a widely known fact that the Global Conflict that had birthed the ‘Peaceful Age’ was nowhere near as catastrophic as it could have been. On all sides small acts of defiance had ensured that attacks and bombs had fallen relatively harmlessly – either diverted from the intended civilian targets or the ‘highly-reactive’ (military speak for ‘if we hit it with a couple of bombs, it will obligingly make a massive explosion’) industries; weapons jammed through poorly applied maintenance or sabotaged parts; or even bombs that were re-engineered to be ‘duds’, insufficient explosive materials, or inoperable triggers.

In an ironic twist, it was these last devices – bombs and other explosives with full explosive loads, but trigger devices that did not operate, allowing them to fall to earth with only the potential of their ‘ballistic potential’ (military speak for ‘big heavy object, falling a long distance will damage whatever it hits’).

With long experience borne of many, many conflicts throughout the history of human experience the ‘failed’ ordinance had quickly and efficiently been cleared and ‘disposed off’ (‘blown up somewhere where nobody and nothing will get hurt’) from the land.

The ordinances that had ended up in the oceans were … left. The wise heads in government deciding that the risk they posed to human life and industries was not worth the cost of locating and disposing of them.

So when a rogue faction with Bereznikian sympathisers got themselves a submarine, located a supply of ‘suitable’ UXOs (Unexploded Ordinance) and started setting them in caches at major ports with new trigger devices that would ensure that they would explode this time around, Spectrum swung into action as the first reports had started trickling in.

Spectrum’s response had put Grey and a very pleased Lieutenant Green, as former WASPs with the most experience on and below the water, at the forefront. With the assistance of other Captains, Spectrum’s submarines had been manoeuvred into the vicinity of the caches, and Grey had swum out with a full scuba rig to render the munitions harmless again.

Once the caches had been neutralised, Scarlet led the ‘Hell’ contingent in a raid to capture the terrorists leaders, all of whom were now sitting – their heads probably still spinning from the speed of events – safely in DeWitts Prison awaiting their day in court. WASP were tasked to remove and dispose of the neutralised caches, and the rumblings that could be heard from Marineville all the way up on Cloudbase indicated that Commander Shore would be tasking his various submarines to clear up the remainder of the abandoned ordinances before “that aquatic asshole, Titan gets any ideas.”

It was only in the debrief that Grey had gave any indication that he had taken personal issue with the events.

After professionally and briskly making his report, Grey had requested leave to add some personal observations. White, valuing the submariner’s opinions, granted permission. What Grey had noticed, and what the rest of the Captains had not, was that many of the caches – while placed perfectly to disable shipping in and out of the ports – was also placed near various facilities designed to provide medical treatment and rehabilitation to endangered or injured sea life.

Grey let his feelings about this be known, at length and at volume. When he hit the ten minute mark with no signs of slowing down, and increasingly alarmed at the startlingly bright red hue his face had turned, the flush creeping down his neck to disappear into the low profile roll-neck he preferred, While glanced around at Doctor Fawn.

Fawn nodded and slid out of his seat. White watched with one eye as the Doctor casually headed to the beverage station on the far wall, and made a mug of tea, while waiting for the tea to brew he picked up a small spray bottle sitting next to a plant, and fiddled with the jet, sniffing cautiously at the contents. Before finishing making his drink.

Carefully carrying the mug back to his place next to Grey at the conference table, Fawn set it down, before unhooking the spray bottle and…

...fired six or seven quick bursts directly at Grey’s face.

Shocked, Grey spluttered to a halt, his eyes wide and jaw hanging loose as he stared at the Doctor.

Fawn smiled, set the spray bottle down and retook his seat. “Oh good, that worked. You’re much calmer now.”

Grey stared at him. “What … what did you do?” he spluttered, water dripping off his face.

“Activated the Mammalian Diving Response. When you have water hit your face it can lower heart rate and body temperature. It’s a rather neat evolutionary hold-over from before our ancestors left the oceans.” Fawn smiled. “It’s why it feels so good to stand under a shower with the water hitting your face.”

White quickly took control. “If I understand the points you were making, Captain, you feel that the risk to the Marine Rehabilitation Centres was not incidental, but a deliberate choice; and you would wish that this be added to the charges against ‘The Collective’?”

Grey nodded. “Uh, yes, sir; you see…”

White held up a hand. “Thank you, Captain Grey. I will ask that you provide all the relevant details in a separate report. Which I will pass along to the World Government’s Judiciary Branch, as well as WASP with a recommendation that they assist the centres revise their security programmes.”

To White’s immense relief, Grey nodded and sat down without another word.

“Does anyone have anything else to add?” There were head shakes and negative murmurs all around. “Very well. This was a successful mission, and I have every expectation that with the information we will provide to the Judiciary will ensure that those responsible for this attempted catastrophe will not be able to further their agenda.”

White let them absorb that, before dismissing them. “Please have your reports to me by noon tomorrow. And get some rest.” he added as Fawn went to speak. “Dismissed.”

His final word was only half spoken when chairs started scraping back, and the sound of folders being slid across the table top filled the room. Fawn – not having a new charge in Sickbay for a change – was one of the last to leave, fairly skipping out of the room.

White took a moment to collect his thoughts before he, too, stood to make his way out of the conference room. As he turned just inside the door to check the room over for anything missed. The spray bottle, sitting innocently on the table caught his eye.

White sighed, and added ‘write memo to housekeeping to ensure equipment is not left lying around’ to his list of things to do.

Another thought had him checking the time and noting it in his notepad, along with the date. He would have to keep a sharp ear out to figure out how long it was before someone ‘tested’ Fawn’s assertion and he would have to keep an eye out to ensure it didn’t get out of hand.

Personally, he gave Ochre and Magenta less than six hours before they gave into temptation.

Maybe Fawn would be amenable to a little wager...

Notes:

I saw a post about the Mammalian Diving Reflex on Tumblr, which explained that standing under a shower with water hitting your face feels sooooo goooood because it activates the Mammalian Diving Reflex, which lowers heartbeat and temperature – use for our fish ancestors (and, presumably, our currently living fish cousins), so they didn’t waste calories during the high-demand activity of swimming.

How my brain went from that fact, to hitting somebody who’s aggravated in the face with a jet from a spray bottle like they’re a disobedient cat is a mystery for the ages.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Captain Scarlet, either the TOS or CGI Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

It meant that the two men were walking funny but by the grins on their faces neither was worried about that judging from the huge grins on their faces.

They led Joe into the centre and positioned him in front of the table before removing their hands.

Joe gasped at the sight before him, and then everyone else jumped out from behind bushes and trees and all yelled.

‘Surprise!’

He couldn’t help squealing as everyone not on duty joined him to celebrate. Hands were shaken, gifts given. Special hugs were handed out to Lady Penelope and Scott Tracy, and to Scarlet and Blue who had to return to duty for now.

Colonel White looked on from his position at the head of the table as the last person shook Joe’s hand and ruffled his hair. Plates of food were handed out and pretty soon all that could be heard was the munching of food.

He laid a hand on Joe’s shoulder and the boy looked up to him, eyes alight and chocolate cake smeared over his mouth.

‘Alright, Joe? Happy?’ ‘I am! Very happy.’ ‘Me too.’

Charles gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and Joe’s smile broadened in response.

‘Thanks, Dad.’