#thunderbird shadow

Scott scratched at his jaw for the third time in as many minutes. The fake beard hid his dimples and made his face more round. Add brown contacts, rearrange his hair, and it was an easy disguise, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Gently mon chéri.” The elegant blonde on his arm chided. Or maybe he was on her arm. The mission briefing hadn’t been too clear on who the arm candy was. Not that Scott minded being arm candy, but - gah. Sneaking around, spy stuff was not his strength. But he could speak French and knew aircraft, both of which made him perfect for this mission. Much to Blue’s annoyance. How often did you get the chance to go to the Paris Airshow on Spectrum’s dime? With Destiny Angel as your partner?

“It itches.”

Amused brown eyes turned his way. “Then we must hurry to catch our thief, so you may remove it, no?”

“Only if we can figure out who the thief is,” Scott growled back softly. To anyone watching they would just be a couple having a low voiced conversation. Not that you could hear much with the constant hum of nearly 500,000 people filling not one but three aerodromes at the extravagant ball held to mark the occasion. Which was part of the problem, too many suspects. What also didn't help were the scramblers set up to keep the media and anyone else from eavesdropping or doing any stock buying or selling based on things they'd overheard here: it meant they had no external comms. But there were only a limited number of buyers for the plans of a stolen, bleeding edge, in-atmosphere ion fusion engine, so that narrowed the field and meant they had a short list. What privately amazed Scott was that Brains hadn’t come up with it first.

‘I wonder if it’s because it’s too chancy,’ was Scott’s thought as he mentally reviewed the limited specs they’d gotten from the designers. When Three had been built, Brains had been very careful to educate them on the safety factors and what the minimum safe distances were for each planet before they could ignite the ion fusion engine. If Three’s reactor ever blew… well… the results wouldn’t be pretty. 

He unlinked his arm from Destiny’s long enough to accept two champagne flutes from a passing waiter, offering one to her before faking a small sip from his. “At your three, who’s that?” 

Destiny made as if to adjust one of the locks of ringleted hair cascading down her shoulder to cover her look. “Monsieur Jacob Arkson, Aerospace International. He could be a buyer, he certainly seems to be looking for someone.” 

“Agreed. Ah, there’s Professor Kwark at your six, glad to see her here, her Icarus has a lot of potential.” Scott faked another sip from his glass. 

“Oui, Melody in particular was pleased to see she had gotten the contract for the new Interceptors.” Destiny curled her hand around his bicep as they began casually meandering through the room again. They’d almost reached one of the small clusters of velvet-upholstered chairs placed for people to sit and rest their feet when she squeezed his arm once in warning, guiding him away from the area. “C’est pas vrai!” she hissed the words out under her breath, but her smile didn’t falter at all. “I should have expected this, with the TI stand here. It is Jeff Tracy.” 

Scott’s gut knotted. He couldn’t - didn’t - want to face Jeff. Not unless it was in a courtroom or possibly over the barrel of his sidearm. He was also on a mission and wasn’t about to jeopardise that. “We should have. But we can stay out of his way. Monsieur and Madame Alard are beneath his notice, their company is too small for him to be interested in it.”

Destiny shook her head. “I still should have thought of it. My apologies.”

"Not your fault." Scott faked a third sip from his glass. “David Barnier from Space Innovations is on your nine and he’s headed toward Arkson. They could be meeting up.” 

“Then by all means, let us see what may be so interesting for them.” Destiny’s smile would look adoring to anyone who didn’t know her. To those who did, it was the snarl of a hunting lioness. 

They kept a discreet distance behind the two men. Both of them noting who they spoke with and what booths they stopped at. Even here in the VIP area, there were displays to look at and reps to speak to. 

Scott had to split his attention between the men, Destiny, and keeping a weather eye out for Jeff. That man might not recognize him under his beard, but he couldn’t take that chance. 

Fortunately, Jeff was clearly more interested in hobnobbing and glad-handing with the high rollers here, but it didn’t miss his notice that Professor Kwark was given a generous berth. 

Someone else, however, made a bee-line for the professor and greeted her with the courtesy and enthusiasm she was due. 

“Destiny, Lady Penelope’s here.” Scott muttered as he turned to take over tracking Barnier- getting a fresh glass of wine - and Arkson - busy chatting up the rep for... ‘How the hell did Fischler Industries get a booth here?!’  Scott made a mental note to give John a heads up and put that problem aside for later. 

“Lady Penelope?” Destiny’s reaction was contained to a blink. “Another surprise, nes-pä? Shall we make contact?” 

“Odds are good she’s here for the same reason we are,” was Scott’s thoughtful response. “If she is, she’ll come to us.” At the curious look Destiny tipped to him, Scott added “Yes, she’s that good. She trained Rhapsody, remember?”  

“D’accord.” Destiny gave her assent and went back to tracking their suspects under the guise of crowd watching. 

‘If Penny’s here,’ Scott looked around carefully, ‘Parker isn’t far behind.’  Even knowing Penny’s partner in ‘alleged’ crimes, it was difficult to spot the man if he didn’t want to be seen. That also brought one other person to mind, but again, like Parker, if Kayo didn’t want to be seen, she wouldn’t be. Scott only hoped that she wouldn't try to knife Jeff if the opportunity presented itself. 

Scott felt the tiniest of tugs on his suit coat, causing him to let go of Destiny for the moment it took to check his wallet and pockets. But instead of something missing, he found something added: a small piece of paper with ‘SST 10’ written on it. He glanced around and caught sight of a woman in an utterly forgettable olive pantsuit, with her black hair pulled up into a crown braid. One eye flickered closed in a wink, before she slipped away into the crowd.

He bent close to Destiny. “We’ve been contacted. Think we can work our way over to the Concorde display in ten minutes?”

“Assurément, contacted by who?”

Scott’s gut unknotted just a touch. “Thunderbird Shadow.”

“Ah, understood. Follow my lead, mon chéri.” Destiny smiled at him and slipped her arm back in his. 

Scott had always known he was good at working his way through a room, but Destiny took it to an artform. At one point they were obliged to tarry for a few minutes, engaging a Boeing engineer in polite chit chat to give that man time to make his way into the small knot of executives who’d been trotted out for the occasion, then they were underneath the nose cone portion of one of the prototypes of the original Super Sonic Transporter, more popularly known as the Concorde. 

“Thought you might ‘ave gotten lost for a minute there, Mister Tracy,” Parker drawled as he appeared from behind the bank of potted palms that surrounded the display. He frowned and mock tsk'ed. “‘H’if h’I might say so, brown h’is not your colour, sir.” 

“Good to see you too Parker,” Scott told him with a smile as he took Destiny’s champagne flute and placed both on a nearby table. It was technically a breach in etiquette for Parker addressing him as ‘Mister Tracy’ when that title belonged to someone else, but Scott decided that he liked the gesture. One day he intended to reclaim his name as his. He’d earned the right to be recognised under his name and by his own merits. This… this was a good first step. 

“Scott.” 

Kayo appeared at Parker’s elbow, the olive pantsuit lending her a surprisingly high amount of camouflage. Contacts changed her brilliant eyes to a more muted hazel and tortoiseshell glasses altered the profile of her face. With the clipboard tucked in her arm and a pen behind her ear, she was perfectly disguised as one of the legion of assistants, organisers and supervisors who made an event like this possible.

“Thunderbird Shadow, Parker, meet Destiny, Angel Flight Leader.” Scott made the introductions. 

“Call me Kayo,” Kayo said as there were brief handshakes exchanged. 

“Ah, le mystérieuse Thunderbird Shadow!” Destiny looked delighted. “You must visit us with your magnifique aircraft! I and my girls, we all adore your Thunderbird. If Thunderbird Five can come, I am certain we can convince the Colonel to have you aboard.”  

“I’d like that.” Kayo’s glance flicked to Scott for only a fraction of a second - so quick that it was only someone who’d grown up with her and knew her tells would have been able to spot it - and then she was back to the job at hand. “Stolen plans for an in-atmo ion engine, right? British Government asked us to take a look, turns out the developer was using some proprietary tech the British have to make it work and they don’t want it getting out into the wild.” 

“So they h’asked a ‘private contractor’ for an h’assist,” Parker finished.   

Destiny was the senior officer on this mission, so Scott looked to her for the direction to take. There was obviously more than just proprietary tech and the dangers of an in-atmo ion engine going on. 

Destiny’s eyes narrowed as she sorted through ramifications and then sighed. “I fear this is a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. Our orders are to catch the thief and recover the plans. I trust yours are the same?”

“They are. Though I doubt His Majesty’s government actually cares who stops them, just as long as they are stopped.” Kayo gave a graceful shrug.

“Assurément, -”

“Oh bloody 'ell!” Parker turned and darted through plants that surrounded them. 

Only Scott knew that the darkening of Kayo’s complexion was a sign of her fury. “What happened?”

“We have short range comms,” Kayo explained as she touched one of her earrings. “The CEO of TI just accosted Penny.” Even muted, her eyes flashed. “And I don’t dare go to help.”

“Nor may Capitaine Cobalt.” Destiny’s smile was so cold it glittered. “But I can. Please tell - Monsieur Parker?” Kayo nodded. “That air support is on the way.” She vanished through the foliage. 

"And while that draws every eye, we get the plans." Kayo's lips were thinned, but she regained her composure. "You have suspects?" 

"David Barnier and Jacob Arkson." Scott reported. 

"We had Arkson pegged as the seller, so Barnier must be the buyer. Where did you last see them?" She tapped the rim of her glasses. "I have a feed into the security cameras." 

"Near the Fischler Industries booth." 

"Ugh, how the hell did he get a booth here?" Kayo muttered. She tapped her glasses again and frowned in concentration, her eyes moving quickly behind the glass. "Got them, going towards the service area."

"F.A-" Scott caught himself, then shrugged it off. "F.A.B." 

“What was your plan?” Kayo slipped out of their cover. Scott was right next to her. “Catch the thief, get the plans, and if we could, nab the buyer as well.” 

“Quite the change from ‘International Rescue doesn’t do that',” she teased.

Scott shrugged and didn’t bother to hide the flash of regret from Kayo. “I’m not Thunderbird One anymore, I’m Captain Cobalt of Spectrum, and he has a very different playbook.”

“I didn’t mean -” Kayo looked guilty but kept heading for the service areas. A woman with a clipboard, walking fast, worked better than a man in a Spectrum uniform for having people get out of the way.

“I know. Gordon and I joke about the old things too.” Scott waved it away. ‘Hopefully soon they won't be the old things anymore.’

The crowds thinned the further they got from the movers and shakers. No one would remember a serious, dark haired woman in an olive pantsuit and a dark haired man in a dark suit, and with his photojammer the surveillance records wouldn’t be of any help either. 

A duck around more plants in pots and they were into the service area. The back area where the work happened was far less glamorous than the areas that the customers were allowed to see. Unused dividers, broken stands, stacks of chairs and trolleys lined the walls and people were bustling and hustling. The kitchen area was organised chaos and billowed with steam from the sterilisers as wait staff brought back trays of used glasses and swapped them for trays with freshly filled flutes or laden with mouthful sized morsels. No one paid them any mind. 

Finally they left all that behind them and they were into the areas used when the aerodromes were in operation: offices, workshops, a staff kitchenette, storerooms and meeting rooms. There were a couple of security lights and the glow from various appliances and machines on standby, but aside from that it was dark. 

“Just up ahead, empty office two doors down on the right.” Kayo set her clipboard down on a cabinet, palming a long stiletto knife that’d been hidden amidst the papers. 

“Acknowledged.” Cobalt unbuttoned his jacket and took his service pistol from a kidney holster. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to carry a pistol this long, but between the size of the gun and the low profile Kevlar vest he had on, it was far more comfortable and accessible than the small of his back. 

They both half crouched, Cobalt taking the lead as they edged towards the door. There wasn’t a window, but light glowed around the edges of the doorframe. Cobalt hand signed for Shadow to take the door. She glared at him in response. “I’m armoured, you aren’t,” he said softly. That got him a blink and then a nod. She tested the handle, held up her free hand, and counted down from three to a fist. Then she shoved the door open and Cobalt dove into the room, rolled, and came up in crouch, his gun covering the middle of the room. 

Their suspects stared at the sudden appearance of an armed man in their supposedly private meeting before reacting. Arkson shoved the desk he’d been standing behind toward Cobalt and Barnier bolted for the open door. 

Cobalt didn’t flinch at the movement, but reacted by vaulting the desk and kicking Arkson in the chest. Arkson went down in a tangle of limbs. Cobalt spared a glance toward where Barnier had fled, only to see Shadow kneeling on top of him. 

Arkson thrashed, trying to get up, only to still as Cobalt’s gun centred on his nose. “Captain Cobalt of Spectrum, you’re under arrest. Please don’t try to resist, I don’t need the paperwork.”

“S-Spectrum?” Arkson stammered, eyes wide and glancing over at his similarly pinned co-conspirator and the knife at his throat. 

“Yep. Where are the plans?” Cobalt demanded. 

There was a gulp, a glance over at Bernier again, a little frown as Jacob tried to run the odds, then a change of expression as he realised that he, an older man well into the later stages of middle age spread, had very little chance against the fighting fit officer pinning him. “Interior pocket of my jacket.” 

Keeping the gun trained on his captive, Cobalt flicked open Arkson’s jacket, quickly searched him, then found and pocketed both the man’s phone and the high security data chip with the plans. “Okay, on your feet, keep your hands where I can see them.” Cobalt backed off just enough to let him up, he’d check the chip once his prisoner was secure. “Shadow, you good?” 

“Just peachy,” Kayo responded, a knife-edged grin in her words.

Cobalt just shook his head and pulled a pair of mag-cuffs out of an inner pocket. He tossed one to Shadow, then looped the thin metal cables around Arkson’s wrists, and activated the tiny electro-magnet. It would take highly specialised bolt cutters to get them off without the matching key. His prisoner taken care of and not worried about Shadow with hers, he pulled his phone out and slid the chip into the built-in reader. Not that he could see what was on the chip, just know if it was the real deal or not. The flash of green let a knot of tension unravel in his shoulders. 

“All good - Cobalt?” Kayo had Barnier on his feet. 

“Yup, got them and the plans. The colonel is going to be pleased.” He left the chip in the phone, he would turn both in when they got back to Cloudbase. “Any word from Destiny or your team?”

There was a murmur of conversation, a moment of listening, her head slightly tilted to one side, then her eyes widened and a smile cracked her facade. “...let’s get these two into custody first, then I’ll update you.” 

Cobalt cocked a curious eyebrow at her, then nodded. “S.I.G.” 

Tidying up the loose ends didn’t take long - a hustle out a back entrance and the two of them were handed over to the waiting Spectrum team of local agents, led by Blue - and then they were back inside to link up with the other halves of their teams. 

Kayo waited until they found some privacy in the service area, tucked away between two unused catering towers and shadows, to brief him. 

“...Destiny slapped him?!” Scott exclaimed, eyes wide. The Angel Leader was a ferocious woman, he absolutely believed that she’d done it, the question was how she’d managed to pull it off in such a way to not lead into further complications. 

“Slapped him and absolutely tore him to shreds in very loud, very angry French,” Kayo informed him, her eyes glittering with mirth. “She was intervening ‘because some barbarian was being rude to her dear friend’ and when he turned to address her, he accidentally knocked the glass in her hand and spilled champagne all over her dress. She yelled he’d done that on purpose and when he stepped closer to ‘be a gentleman and assist’ - because people were looking - she managed to move in such a way that his palm brushed the front of her bodice, and she shrieked and slapped him. Penny says it all looked completely natural and the media are swarming.” 

“Wow.” Scott leaned back against the concrete wall to absorb that. “I think I’ll buy her a spa day somewhere for that.” He canted a grin at Kayo. “We’ve got a saying on base, ‘Happy Angels means living Captains'. Perfect example of why right there.” 

“I like that.” Kayo grinned back, then she softened. “Scott?”          

“Yes?”

She stepped close enough to lay a hand on his arm. “I couldn’t say so before, but I’ve missed you.”

The weight of those words hit like a freight train. Scott swallowed, gave a brief scan of the area then reached out, and pulled her in close. “Oh, sayang, I have missed you so much as well.” He held her in his arms and gloried in the fact he could do so. Her arms slid around his body, even as she pulled back a little. There hadn’t been a chance for them to be alone in New Haven like this, especially with how secretive they both were about their relationship - hard learned habits of 'keep myself safe by keeping it secret' weren't easy to shake. Gordon and John knew about them, but no one else. Scott bent his head slightly and gently brushed her lips with his; an unspoken plea for consent.

Kayo rose up on her toes and captured his mouth with hers. Over two years was far too long to go without kissing her beloved. It was a timeless moment of stolen joy. They broke apart before the need to breathe got too great. Kayo wrinkled her nose at him. “I don’t think I care for the beard.” 

Scott chuckled and tried to pull her even closer, storing up the sensation of her in his arms against the coming drought. “It’s just for this mission, it’s going to be gone as soon as I get back to base.” 

“Good.” She caught his mouth again for another soul searing kiss. She was hoarding her own memories against the famine to come.

They broke apart far too soon for either of their liking. Scott made sure any damage to her hair or clothing was settled and Kayo erased any marks that anything private had happened on his. She settled his suit coat and lightly gripped the lapels. “I’m going to take Destiny up on her offer. Just to let you know.” There was a playful lilt in her voice.

“If I can pry you out of their clutches and the Amber Room, I know just the place.” His grin was slow. “How does several hours alone sound?” Her eyes widened. “Like bliss.”