#wayne rigby

It creaked and bowed below each footfall and, at one point, she was fairly certain a section was about to entirely snap from under her. A fall from five storeys to an early grave was a sobering thought.

But she didn’t stall and she didn’t allow her mind to linger on such a devastating distraction. She had to get to the meeting point, and she had to get there fast.

Time was ticking by perilously. From the rectangular factory windows above her, Kayo could see the sky was slowly shifting from shades of indigo to lighter shades of peach; dawn was fast approaching. Her deadline was nipping at her heels. She picked up her pace, the walkway beneath her groaning at her increased speed.

When news of his disappearance had reached her, Kayo had joined the search immediately. They had been searching for him for three days and three nights. The GDF had given her full rein of the mission from day one. She had enlisted Penelope’s help on day two. Parker had secured her a solid lead by the morning of the third day, and Kayo had managed to get in contact with the abductor by the evening. Now, on the cusp of the dawn of the fourth day, Kayo would end this.

The end of the walkway ended with a set of double doors. Kayo pushed them open slowly, revealing another flight of concrete stairs. If the schematics had been correct, it would lead her up to the sixth and final floor; the old foreman offices. It was her last hope. It was where she’d been led up to this point. She had to have faith that the meeting point was at the end.

Kayo took two steps at a time. The sooner this was over, the better.

The staircase led to another set of doors, this time already open, with a long corridor beyond. All the way down the hall there were various doorways. Some still had the doors attached, though the rooms were all locked up tight behind them. Where there was no longer a door, planks had been nailed into the walls, boarding up the entrances. It was a reminder that the former GDF weapons factory had been abandoned for a long time.

She tried each door that was still on their hinges. None of them opened.

Racing along, it didn’t take her long to reach the end of the corridor. Or at least, that part of the corridor. It turned to the right, continuing down the for another two-hundred feet or so, identical to the last. And again Kayo tried every door she passed, all of them the same as the previous hallway. She marched faster, growing more and more frustrated with every door handle that rattled but refused to open.

Until one eventually did.

Hesitantly Kayo crossed the threshold. Her eyes darted to the left and to the right, looking for any signs of traps or triggers. If she was caught out now, wounded or potentially worse, then everything would have been in vain.

Lanterns lit the way forward from here, trailing like breadcrumbs across the room. The large windows had been partly shattered in places, causing the wind to whistle through. It was the only sound in the vicinity and it was unnerving to say the least. Still, Kayo pressed forward. She followed the lanterns and stepped over the discarded papers which littered the floor, around the broken desk and across the piles of rubble that had fallen from the caved-in ceiling. They led her to another door, closed again this time, but this one clearly connected to the room next door. When she tried the handle, it opened.

The room beyond was the same as the first. So was the next one. And the next. And the next. The lanterns kept leading her to the doors that connected like a chain to the offices down the corridor. They were taking her back the way she’d come. Clearly the rooms had been locked from being accessed from the outside to conceal this little game.

Kayo buried the irritation that was rising up. How far back would this trail lead her? Would she run out of time before she got to the end? It fuelled her to move faster, the frustration lending itself to her desire to finally finish the job.

Continuing through the rooms with speed, she also continued to remain mindful to watch for any possible traps, until finally the last room ended, not with another door, but a gaping hole in the floor.

It only went down one level thankfully. She calculated the angle and then carefully dropped herself down.

Slow clapping pierced the gentle humming of the generator in front of her. Kayo slowly turned on her heels.

“It’s over, Corporal Dennis. Surrender now and—”

Kayo ceased talking when she saw the scene before her, her next words completely lost from the shock. Corporal Dennis, the supposed abductor, was sprawled unconscious on the floor before her. Dead.

Her heart dropped. “No, that— That isn’t—”

A familiar figure emerged from behind a large piece of machinery, a wry smile taunting her as he stepped into the light. He still wore his GDF uniform, though it was clear at this point that he no longer had any allegiance to the organisation.

“Rigby?” Kayo breathed out, not wanting to come to terms with the scene. “What are you doing? It was Dennis who—”

He tilted his head, mockingly. “Was it Dennis? Did you even read the notes I sent, Kayo?”

“But why?”

“You were two minutes too late.” Rigby lifted his wrist to check his watch. “Well, one minute-fifty. But who cares about the details, right? You certainly didn’t.”

Her head was spinning. This wasn’t right. It had been Rigby who was supposed to have been taken hostage by Dennis. It was some sort of weird ransom situation over a GDF special weapon. Rigby wasn’t supposed to be the villain here. He couldn’t have been. He was a loyal soldier of the GDF and, above all else, he was her friend.

“Why,” she repeated, more clearly this time, “are you doing any of this?”

Nonchalantly he shrugged and strolled forward. His boot tapped the shoulder of the deceased Corporal in front of him, the disrespect only being added to with a sneer. “It was a shame Dennis didn’t want to cooperate. I gave him every chance, but…” Rigby sighed. “He could have been so much more useful. So much potential gone to waste.”

Kayo eyed the door to her left. It was open, with a bright red Exit sign tantalisingly flashing intermittently over it. If she could run fast enough, she’d be able to get out and contact the GDF with the truth of the situation—

“Do. Not.” Rigby punctuated, raising his hand, “Even. Think. About it.”

A gun was now pointed at her. Despite his warning, his eyes were daring her, challenging her to defy him. To give him an excuse to pull the trigger.

No, this couldn’t have been Rigby. This wasn’t like him at all. Those piercing blue eyes of his were slightly dimmer, though they shone with the glint of a madman. No, it had to be some sort of weird dream. Perhaps she hadn’t been careful enough when looking out for traps. Perhaps one had got her. Perhaps she’d wake up soon and be in Dennis’s clutches. Kayo would have rathered that situation than this one.

This very real one.

Because no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, Rigby was pointing a gun at her. He had killed Corporal Dennis. That word friend which she had used to describe him for so long now was no longer an accurate description for him.

Yet, despite the reality, she still held onto hope that things weren’t as they seemed. The Rigby she’d known would never have betrayed his fellow soldiers. The Rigby she knew would never have murdered someone in order to get his hands on an experimental weapon. The Rigby she knew wouldn’t be looking at her like she was next on his hit-list.

“Why did you lure me here?”

“Join me,” he answered simply.

Kayo scoffed. “In this mad charade? No, thanks.”

Rigby appeared unperturbed by her refusal. He stepped towards her eagerly. “Join me,” he simply said again, though his gun was still trained on her.

She instinctively took a step back. “Will you shoot me if I don’t? Will my fate be like Dennis’s?”

Those blue eyes darted down to the corpse of the corporal, utterly void of any emotion. It was unnerving how much Rigby had changed. How fast. No, something didn’t sit right with her.

“I needed you to stop looking for me,” he explained. “When Corporal Dennis here wised up to my plans, I decided to use him as a decoy. Have the GDF think that it was him who was behind all of this. I didn’t expect you to be the one who came knocking, especially without a back-up team. Honestly, haven’t you learned your lessons yet?”

Rigby took another step forward but, again, Kayo stepped back an equal amount.

He chuckled at her response. “I guess that’s to be expected.”

“So this was all because you want the secret weapon? Why?”

“It’ll be worth a pretty penny when sold to the right person.”

It was all so very wrong, and when Rigby neared her again, almost backing up her into the small gated area where the generator sat, Kayo struck. She aimed for the gun first, whacking his hand and causing his grip to falter. It didn’t take long for it to fall to the floor with a clatter. Then, she went for his legs, swiping them out from under him. Rigby was a tall, well-built soldier, trained for fighting, but he stumbled clumsily. He barely remained upright and he certainly wasn’t balanced when Kayo slipped past him and kicked him forward, past the open gate, and into the generator.

“Nice try, uncle,” Kayo spat, shutting the gate before he could run back out. “But Rigby would never be swayed by something so pathetic as a quick cash grab.” 

Rigby, who she had since realised was thankfully not Rigby, cursed her. He rushed to the gate and rattled against it. The lock held firm. “You’ll regret this!”

“You say that every single time, and yet I’m still waiting on the chance to cash in that threat of yours.”

He rattled the cage again as Kayo crossed the room and searched through his belongings. It didn’t take her long to find his favourite gadget. With a push of a button, Rigby’s face morphed back into the owner’s true visage; the Hood.

“And I rarely do any mission without back-up, uncle. They’ll be here soon enough, but while we wait, why don’t you tell me where the real Captain Rigby is?”

The Hood knew he held the last card that Kayo so desperately wanted. He knew what the friendship she’d cultivated with Rigby meant to her. It was probably half the reason why he’d chosen his face as his disguise. He probably could sense her anxious heart beating wildly as she awaited his answer.

So when he refused to oblige her and offered up a smug grin instead, Kayo wasn’t too surprised.

She lifted the gun from where it had fallen and watched as, for a split second, fear crossed her uncle’s features. It soon changed back to glee.

“Are you going to shoot me, Tanusha? Are you finally going to put an end to this game of cat and mouse?”

Kayo inspected the gun carefully. She turned it over in her hands, felt the weight of the weapon. “It’s tempting,” she admitted aloud. “I suppose I could. I could argue it was self-defence. I could say I had no other choice.” She made sure her next words were spoken with unyielding eye contact, and she stepped closer to the gate. “But I would never stoop to your level. I would never kill as an easy route out of a difficult situation. As much as you want to mould me into your likeness, uncle, I will never be like you.”

Despite her words and their bite, the Hood was entirely unbothered by her words. If anything, he looked bored. “Give it time, dear Tanusha. One day you truly won’t have a choice.”

“There are always choices.”

“Yeah, it's a weird one,” Rigby sighed into his communicator, rubbing his bruised jaw, “whenever you have a chance.  Might want to bring Brains or the Mechanic.”

“Will do,” Kayo promised, with a little finger salute, “see you soon.”

“Thanks, see you soon,” and he briefly grinned as the comm winked out.  He hoped to see her sooner rather than later, but he couldn't in good conscience pull anyone from International Rescue away if there were real emergencies going on.  He felt fortunate he had gotten hold of her as it was.  This was not an emergency, and the only aspect of it that was an emergency was in surgery, but seemed to be stable.  Well, two of the interns were also down in medical, unconscious but vitals strong, stable and should be waking up soon.

So, he took stock of the situation, no one was in immediate danger.   Except perhaps the remaining student interns shifting nervously before his desk.

“Now,” he growled, “where exactly did these plans come from?”

~*~

One.  Two. Three.  Four. Fi...Wall.  Not quite five paces and Captain Scarlet came to halt.  He turned and prowled back again.  He felt.  He felt like an itch he had long since grown use to had disappeared.  He wasn't certain that he liked the absence.  He didn't know where Captain Blue was, only had the assurances of a man in a mockery of Blue's uniform that Adam had been taken into surgery.

He could see Lieutenant Green in the cell across the way.  Fretting in his own way.  Humming and singing under his breath in the way no one normally noticed.  Until they had good reason to notice, because it meant Green was still there and safe, for a rather abysmal value of safe.  It was never spoken of, but all the Color Captains knew Colonel White would have their heads if something happened to him when on a missions with them.

Scarlet knew Captain Grey was in the cell next to his.  He wished he could see him, but Grey had answered when Scarlet had called out a couple of time.  Scarlet would take what he could get.

He did not know where Black was, only that his warnings that Black was dangerous were clearly not being taken seriously.

No one, not a single guard, was answering his questions (he would find that admirable in other circumstances,) other than:

“Captain Rigby has it under control.”

As if he was suppose to know who the devil “Captain Rigby” was, and, even more of a stretch, trust the man.

So he paced.

One. Two. Three. Four. Wall.

One. Two. Three. Four. Wall.

One. Two. Three. Four. Wall.

~*~

Thunderbird One rumbled to a landing four and three quarters hours later, and Rigby thought he masked his disappointment well when only Scott Tracy and the Mechanic exited.  The Mechanic was wearing a relatively new IR uniform with a gun metal gray and orange baldric.

“Kayo busy?”

“Yeah,” Scott answered breezily, “Lady Penelope had a complication come up and she needed Kayo as back up.  Something about it being a delicate situation.  What's this all about?  Kayo mentioned Fischler.”

But Rigby caught the tiny smirk on the Mechanic’s face and when Scott was slightly ahead of them Rigby elbowed him in the one place he knew would wouldn't hurt himself.  That elicited a bark of laughter from the Mechanic.  Scott looked back and shrugged when all he saw was the two following him, Rigby hastening his pace to Scott's side.

“The GDF has a program that allows universities and other institutions to send students to work as interns at research facilities like this one.  Gives them an opportunity to work with technology not available to the general public yet, and a bit of vice versa.  Usually they're the crème de la crème of their programs,” Rigby explained as he guide them through the building, “this batch decided to download and build a 'brilliant' design that Langstrom Fischler posted as a protest for being 'stifled' by the GDF and International Rescue.  He was using a handle we hadn't flagged and blocked yet.”

“And no one thought to check on what the interns were doing?” Scott questioned, eyebrows raised.

Rigby gave him the stink eye, then sighed.

“They have specific approved GDF/University projects they're suppose to work on, but they are allowed time to work on personal projects, IF those projects are reviewed and approved by their supervisors.  This bunch thinks they're smarter than everyone else and went ahead and did what they pleased.  I guess they thought it would be harmless enough.   It was supposed to be a just mini-thunderstorm in a bottle.”

Scott and the Mechanic traded apprehensive and knowing looks.  Anything Fischler had a hand in was never simple or harmless.

“What did it turn out to be?”

“Damned if I know,” Rigby snorted and let them into a conference room with a darkened window, “what it did, though, was rip open a portal to an alternate reality, and let through five men before we could close it.  I actually had to shoot it to get it to power down.”

“Inter-dimensional portal?  Are you sure?” the Mechanic’s interest was peaked.

“Reasonably,” Rigby nodded, “they sure aren't from around here.  Kept shouting about Spectrum and Mysterans,” he absently rubbed his jaw, “one of them was shot, and we rushed him to medical.  Three of them refused to settle down, and we ended up hustling them down to the brig. This one,” he tapped a button and the darkened observation window dissolved to reveal a view of  adjoining conference room where a single man dressed all in black sat slumped, head down, at a table, “surrendered immediately and has behaved ever since.  He hasn't answered any questions, but he also hasn't tried to break my jaw.”

Rigby considered a moment.

“Hasn't asked any questions either.”

Scott stared at the man for a moment, then turned to Rigby.

“And you contacted Kayo about this because you know it's going to take Brains and him,” Scott nodded at the Mechanic, “to get them back to where they belong.”

“Got it in one.  Figured the rest of International Rescue would help too.”

“We should probably talk to them to see if something was happening on their side,” Scott decided, “how is the man who was shot?”

“Mostly lost a lot of blood, which is bad enough, the doctors say he's stable now, still unconscious, but he should make a full recovery,” Rigby said, “whoever shot him was either a lousy shot or wasn't really aiming.  We'll update his cohorts when we bring them up here.”

~*~

Despite the pair of guards Rigby left with them in the conference room, Scott couldn't put the sense of unease he felt about the man in black to rest.  It looked like he was sleeping (or possibly dead as nigh-imperceptible as his breathing was), his head cradled in his arms on the table, but little muscle movements, minute shifts in shoulders and head, told Scott that the man may not be watching the room, he was definitely listening to it.

The Mechanic just stomped over and scanned the man, data coloring and raining through the goggles he wore in uniform.

“Hrm,” he tweaked the scanner a bit, “interesting.”

That, Scott noticed, made the man's shoulders tense.

“Have you ever heard anything like this happening before?” Scott asked, he could run through several plausible theories, the mathematical possibilities and probabilities, in his head, but none would even remotely involve a thunderstorm in a bottle as the starting point.

“No,” the Mechanic replied truculently, returning to Scott's side, “and with a Fischler design involved, I want to excise as many elements as we can before even  beginning to guess,” he smiled faintly, “and I want to eliminate as many reasons as possible to keep Brains from having a Langstrom induced meltdown.”

“We will all appreciate that,” Scott snorted, “I think Dad still hasn't  recovered from witnessing his first one.”

The Mechanic chuckled, then stepped slightly in front of Scott as the door opened, but not blocking his view of the three strangers that entered with Rigby and the guards.  Ranging from average height to reasonably tall, Scott would have guessed them between mid-late twenties to early thirties in age.  They were all wearing similar looking uniforms, albeit with different colored tunics, and caps.  All were handcuffed although Rigby either must have determined they were a limited threat or he wanted to be able to see their hands, as they all cuffed with their hands in front.  Scott mentally dubbed them Red, Green, and Gray.

Red's voice was strident as he insisted that they be taken to check on someone he called “Blue,” obviously the man in medbay.  With Rigby equally testy reply that that was out of the question until the doctors cleared it.

That argument came to a halt when the men saw the man in black at table.  Red and Green verbally exploded.

“He should be in handcuffs!  Not us!”  “That man is extremely dangerous!”  and more of the same.

Gray stayed quiet, but put himself ahead of Green.  Scott recognized the look on his face, knowing it as one of his own.  Protect your brothers, your family, whether they were blood-related or not.

The man in black steadfastly ignored the clamor, and the only hint he was not unconscious was he turned his head slightly, listening.

“Considering he's the only one who hasn't tried to throw a punch at me so far?” Rigby opined dryly, “he's earned the right not to be restrained.”

“And in that are you wrong,” the deeply exhausted broken voice startled everyone in the room, “I'm likely the most dangerous person in this room.  Under different circumstances, your mistake would be fatal.”

“Black?” Red yelped.

The man in black lifted his head revealing a haggard visage, what might have been a smile crossed it.

“Hello Paul.”

~*~

“And in that are you wrong,” Scarlet jumped, that voice...that voice was not the deep dead-sounding voice of the Mysteron agent, but the ruined voice of a man he once called friend, “I'm likely the most dangerous person in this room.  Under different circumstances, your mistake would be fatal.”

“Black?” Scarlet exclaimed.

Captain Black lifted his head from the table.

'Dear god he looks awful' Scarlet thought, having life in his eyes highlighting how gaunt and sick the man was.

As if reading Scarlet's mind, a faint self-deprecating smile flashed over Black's face.

“Hello Paul.”

Two simple words, at once confirming this was the man Scarlet had known and drawing Scarlet's annoyance.  He and Captain Grey and Lt. Green had all been so careful to maintain their code names in this strange situation, and his personal name was given away in an instant.

Something must have shown in his face, as Black's eyes went bleak and he lay his head down again with a sad sigh.

“Regardless of who the most dangerous person in this room is,” a deep but lively voice broke through Scarlet’s brief revery, “there are more important issues at hand.  Are you aware of your circumstances?”

The man was at least two meters tall in a dark blue flight suit with a gun metal gray and orange patterned utility sash of some kind and an unruly, punkish strip of hair flanked by tattoos on his head.  Even more unnerving were the shiny goggles with lens that seems to flicker and change moment to moment.

Captain Grey spoke up, his voice even.

“We were pursuing a fugitive,” he glance at Captain Black, “through a scientific laboratory when a damaged piece of machinery caused us to stumble through something that resembled an upright whirlpool of light. We found ourselves in another laboratory with one of our comrades injured, and surrounded by armed military personnel.  Captain Blue was taken for medical assistance…?”

“We believe you came through from a parallel Earth,” the parody of Blue supplied, “your Captain Blue is out of surgery, and he’s not totally out of the woods yet but he’s stable.  The docs say he should recover fully,” he eyed Scarlet, “if you behave I might be able to talk them into letting you check on him later.”

“Thank God,” Scarlet breathed, to his own surprise, and sat down hard in one of chairs circling the table.  Grey and Green cautiously joined him.

“Be better if someone,” Lt. Green grumbled and shot Black a glare, “hadn’t shot him in the first place.”

At that Black sat up straight.

~*~

Rigby watched that one passing statement inject more life into the man in black then he had seen so far, and the look on the man’s face reminded him a bit of Colonel Casey’s when someone had just done something exceptionally stupid in front of her.  Rigby found himself moving between the men at the table and the members of International Rescue, and knew from the shuffling of feet behind him that the Mechanic and Scott were doing their own discreet dance of protection.  From what he heard the Mechanic was winning.

“I did not shoot Captain Blue,” Blackie, as Rigby had privately dubbed him, cuttingly began, “Captain Scarlet forced me to drop my gun in our initial scuffle.  I never recovered it.  Furthermore, did you see ever me turn around after I started to retreat?” he waited a beat, and a furious eyebrow raised as he looked to Scarlet and Gray, “Captains Scarlet and Grey were in front of Captain Blue and yourself, Lt. Green. They did have their weapons out, Blue also had his firearm out but as per protocol he had it at the ready but down since there was no way for him to get a clear shot without endangering other Spectrum officers,” he focused his entire attention and sudden ire on the young man,  “That leaves one person who did have his weapon out and was firing it in a irresponsible manner despite his fellow officers being in front of him.  Since Captains Scarlet, Grey and I can be ruled out, and I sincerely doubt Blue shot himself, who do you think shot him? Initiative should never clash with discipline and protocol, Lieutenant.”

Rigby watched the horror slowly dawn on the young man's face as he sank further into his chair; that was a hell of a bombshell to have dropped on him. The man in gray sitting beside him put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as best he could.

“You're fine one to lecture Lt. Green on initiative,” the one in Scarlet started heatedly, “when you...” he was cut off by an abrupt hand motion by Blackie.

“I know my own crimes, Scarlet,” he said harshly, then softened, “but Green needs to hear how he screwed up, and better from me than you, or Gray, or realizing it himself,” Blackie slouched back in his chair, “Me, he can just keep hating.”

Scott dodged the Mechanic’s attempted block to stand next to Rigby.   His face was open and his eyes were bright.  Rigby had heard Kayo describe it as the Official International Rescue ‘we’re here to rescue you even if we have to kill you to do it’ face.  (Rigby had questioned her on that description, after he had stopped laughing.  She had grinned and asked: “what do you think?”)

“I think we should try to restart this conversation with some introductions,” Scott’s professionally cheerful voice was actually like a balm on Rigby’s nerves; his next words had a smidge of an edge to them, “We’re International Rescue,  I’m Scott Tracy.  My colleague here is the Mechanic.  We’re here to help the Global Defense Force help you,” he emphasized, then he eased back to a deferential tone, “and I’ll let Captain Rigby take it from here.”

“Thank you Commander Tracy,” Rigby acknowledged Scott with gratitude, “I am Captain Wayne Rigby of the Global Defense Force;  you gentlemen are currently in one of our research facilities apparently due a mishap in one of our labs and one in the laboratory you were in.  We are going to try to get you home.”

The two older uniformed men shared a look, and the one in red nodded to the one in gray.

“I am Captain Grey of Spectrum,” Grey spoke carefully, “These are my fellow officers Captain Scarlet and Lieutenant Green.  The man you have in your medical bay is

Captain Blue,” he hesitated as he looked at Blackie.

“I’m Conrad Turner, formerly Captain Black of Spectrum,” the man in black cut in, “currently, currently the unwilling catspaw of hostile aliens known as the Mysterons.  And as far as I can tell either they don’t exist here, or no one’s knocked down that particular wasps nest yet.”

“Fascinating,” the Mechanic rumbled dryly, “however, what I need to know is do any of you know what was the function the machine that was damaged on your Earth?”

Rigby chuckled softly as the three Spectrum officers all turned as one to Turner.

“What was the Mysterons’ goal this time?” Scarlet asked, “Spectrum figured out the location, but the rest made no sense.”

Turner shrugged.

“It wasn’t common knowledge, but Professor Fischler was working on an advanced weather mitigation device… I’m sorry,” he stopped at the audible groan that rose in the room, “have I said something I shouldn’t?”

“This Professor Fischler, their first name wouldn’t happen to be Langstrom, would it?” Rigby asked faintly horrified.

“Yes.  Is that a problem?”