Thundergeek59

Virgil and Gordon had gone there with Thunderbird 2. He had sent Kayo there on her way back from another mission to reset the facility's cooling system with the Thunderbird S.

Four people were standing directly behind where Virgil and Gordon were removing the crumbling concrete. A woman had sprained her wrist, and while Virgil continued removing the concretes for fifth person, Gordon had left to make sure the woman got out safely.

The excessive temperature was interfering with the sensors and the data John was receiving. Had Kayo's voice not interrupted their normal conversation with Gordon and Virgil, none of them would have known that the tunnel next to them was also about to explode.

They had only a few minutes; Virgil was determined to save the last person behind the closing tunnel.

The explosion occurred just as Virgil had created enough space for the man to escape. The flames hadn't reached them, but the explosion had caused the already unstable tunnel to collapse even further.

Virgil wasn't running with the man who had managed to escape. Because until the man emerged from the tunnel, he was using all his strength to keep one of the supporting columns in place.

Data from Virgil's exo-suit was triggering alarms. The hydraulic lifts were about to break due to the extreme heat and weight. But Virgil refused to leave, insisting that the fifth person could get out safely.

John had asked him to back down.

Gordon too.

Kayo too.

When another explosion occurred, Virgil was trapped under tons of concrete, along with his broken exo-suit.

Now they were all at the hospital for hours, waiting for news from the operating room.

It was 23:59. One minute later, it would be his brother's birthday, who was fighting for his life inside.

One I’m especially excited about (not just because I’ve been visiting recently) is the network of carbon capture plants we’ve been helping our partners to install and upgrade. The very best of these, such as those in Iceland, are run entirely from geothermal and solar energy. And the lagoons they heat from the byproduct? Glorious 🥰🏊‍♂️

I’m a just a little too young to remember the despair of the ‘20s when it seemed like we had no chance of halting let alone reversing the climate crisis but some real heroes back then refused to give up and not only managed to find more sustainable ways to power human civilisation and clear up the mess our species had been making, but also to change the hearts and minds of those invested in manufacturing, digital technology and travel industries to make the changes needed there too.

The bed was new, he could feel that stiff, new feeling mattresses had. All the walls were bright and shiny and the smell of paint lingered on the edges. There was a table set against the wall with a jug of water on it.

He was covered in bandages too, the worst of the knife-work now treated. Scott still felt like one giant bruise and he knew that his broken leg would probably need more than just a cast. Not that it felt like the leg had been….

Huh. Only the visible wounds had been treated…

Something was going to happen. And it wasn’t going to be good.

For the next few days he drifted in and out of consciousness as his injuries healed and various nurses and doctors treated him. Scott had once woken to the sound of people arguing, but he’d been too out of it to understand, but the next time he’d woken up his leg had been set and put into a cast.

Every time he woke up he was conscious a little longer than before. He was laden with IVs and as soon as he was more capable of thought the first thing he’d done was to tear them out.

So now he was cuffed to the bed rails. Even when asleep he was cuffed. It was the most uncomfortable position.

But it wasn’t until he’d been able to stay awake solidly for more than four hours that he was paid a visit by a person that wasn’t a medic.

That person was new to him in person, but he knew who she was. He’d seen her on the news. His knowledge must have shown on his face and his surprise even more so when he was greeted with perfect English with just the barest trace of an accent.

‘My name is Stabshauptmannn Koch.’

Scott just stared at her. He dearly wished his hands were free so he could cross his arms so he looked as defiant as he felt because he was sure he didn’t come across like that at all. The merest glimmer of a smile flitted across the woman’s face before she straightened up.

‘Prepare yourself, First Lieutenant Tracy. My superior is about to arrive. It would be best if you are respectful.’ ‘Best for whom?’ ‘Best for you. And your father.’

His heart stuttering in his chest made the monitors scream and it took an enormous effort to get his breathing under control. All the while the woman just stood there.

There must have been some kind of signal that Scott had not been privy to, for the woman smartly sidestepped twice and held a crisp salute as the door opened. Two people entered, both wearing Bereznik uniforms with high ranking showing.

One he knew. His torturer leered at him but he wiped the smirk off his face at Scott’s raised eyebrow when the man he was standing behind paused and made as if to turn. He didn’t complete the turn, however, stopping to acknowledge the salute of the young woman before turning back to Scott. Who filed that piece of information away for later contemplation.

‘I am Generaloberst Koch, Oberleutnant Tracy.’ ‘Generaloberst.’ ‘As you can imagine, I am a very busy man, Oberleutnant. I do not have time for you, your nation nor the petty demands of the World Government.’

Scott held his tongue. He wanted to scream at the man that if Bereznik hadn’t attacked Poland and annexed almost the entire country then none of this would have happened, but the mention of his father had him bite the retort back.

‘You, Oberleutnant Tracy, are a spy. Shot down over the sovereign territory of Bereznik after landing in a small town and stealing secrets.’ ‘Wha-What?’

The man sighed at the interruption and inclined his head. As quick as a flash the other man was across the room and Scott’s head was ringing from a resounding blow. Once he’d recovered his hearing it was to notice anger clear on the Colonel-General’s face. He was furiously berating the Major and Scott was impressed that he didn’t raise his voice despite the anger. The Major took the dressing down but as his eyes slid to his Scott knew that, given half a chance, he’d be bearing the brunt of that.

A clearing of his throat and the Colonel-General turned back to face him. The man was carved from ice, Scott thought, no trace of emotion could be seen on him.

‘As I was saying. As you are a spy you are to stand trial in the capital. You are here to get well enough to stand trial. Once you are fit enough to travel you will stand trial for the world to see how Bereznik deals with spies.’

The man turned, saluted the Stabshauptmannn and left. The Major, with one last hate-filled look at Scott, marched after him, but Koch stayed where she was.

Scott thought carefully over the next couple of hours. It would kill his father to see him paraded around as a political prisoner and on trial. Everyone knew that Bereznik wasn’t merciful, they had executed their own people for far less crimes.

If they weren’t going to transport him until he was well, then he had to remain as he was. He couldn’t get to the IVs anymore, but he could and would do whatever it took.

Stabshauptmannn Koch stayed in his room almost the entire time. There were three others who rotated out with her, all very lower rank officers, but Koch was there almost all the time.

Two days after the visit the medics considered that he was well enough to be started on some real food alongside the nutrient IV. And Scott made his decision.

Every piece of food was refused. Every cup of water. Everything even remotely food orientated denied.

At first the doctors and nurses were unconcerned. It wasn’t that uncommon for prisoners to refuse sustenance, but once they realised they weren’t getting better they usually gave in. No one went on hunger strike any more, it was a totally ineffective method of communication. Given enough time they were positive this man would be no different.

They were wrong.

As Scott continued to refuse he could see the sense of alarm turn to panic among the medical staff. Even the ever-stoic Koch was starting to look concerned – although that could have been wishful thinking on Scott’s part.

He was getting weaker, he knew this. The nutrient drips would only go so far, he hoped, although Scott knew they would keep them alive at the very least. He was gambling that they wouldn’t “waste” good nutrients on him, but he knew it was a big risk.

Sleep wasn’t easy now. All his aches and pains were far more pronounced, and a bone-tiredness was seeping into him. All he wanted to do was sleep but it didn’t come. On occasion he drifted but that was about it.

Sometimes he dreamed his father was there beside him, a hand on his arm and warm breath on the side of his face. He never spoke but when Scott was at his lowest the hallucination brought him comfort.

And then one day the Major was back.

Fury was clear on his face as he took in Scott’s weaken condition. Scott thought back to the angry conversation the Generalobers had had with him and while his memory was very patchy now he could see that if anything prevented the Generalobers from getting what he wanted it would be the Major that would be held accountable.

Scott looked the Major dead in the eye and laughed.

He laughed weakly, but he laughed and laughed and laughed until he was choking on dryness and the observation machines were screaming.

The last thing he was conscious of was that fleeting glimmer of a smile on Koch’s face.

When Scott woke up it was different. He was no longer in his bed but was sat up in a chair, hands no longer cuffed.. In other circumstances it would have been called an easy chair, but Scott was anything but easy in it.

The Major stood before him and the three other officers who guarded him were either side of them. Interestingly enough Koch wasn’t there, and Scott wondered why that was the case…

‘You will be fit to face trial, Oberleutenant.’

But Scott just stared at him. He didn’t have the energy to argue and he knew it would be pointless anyway. The Major would do whatever he wanted to – he always had – and all Scott could do was steel himself mentally for what was about to happen.

So far the medical team had tried their hardest to persuade him to eat verbally but, other than not remove his nutritional drip, had done nothing else. The leer on the Major’s face told Scott that that was about to change.

‘The Generaloberst wants you fit to stand trial and I will make sure you are. Hold him.’

The three men moved, one for each arm and the last one moved behind Scott, hooking one arm around Scott’s throat and forcing his head back a little and holding it in place. Scott was powerless to stop them, and all he could do was watch with wide eyes as the Major strode across the room and picked something up off the table.

It was a pipe. And a funnel.

Scott struggled hard but was held tightly, handholds so tight they would leave livid bruising. The Major grabbed his cheeks and squeezed hard until Scott had no choice but to open his mouth. He choked hard as the pipe was forced down his throat.

It wasn’t a long procedure but if felt to Scott that it had taken forever, and his throat was raw and hurting, like he’d swallowed glass. He gagged several times but nothing he did made them stop.

The Major hadn’t finished, though. Without letting go of his cheeks, the man fit the funnel onto the end of the pipe and poured a pale creamy liquid through. Scott could feel the coldness as the liquid went down. Eventually the whole bottle was emptied. His stomach rebelled and he tried to throw up again but the tube wasn’t allowing that to happen.

But it wasn’t quite over yet.

The man still stood over Scott and his leer turned into a wide smirk. And while Scott knew what was coming he also knew he had no way to stop or brace against it.

The tube was roughly yanked from him and Scott coughed, bringing up bile, blood and some of whatever that fluid had been. He watched through tears as the tube was thrown into the clinical waste bin.

He was still coughing and retching when his room door flew open and Stabshauptmannn Koch stormed in, fury clear on her face.

‘What is going on here?’ ‘Nothing you need to worry about, Stabshauptmannn Koch.’ ‘Nothing? Look at the state of the prisoner! This is not what Generaloberst Koch wants! Fit to stand trial, Major. I will be having words.’

She took in the position of the three men still around Scott and her frown deepened.

‘Gentlemen, you are all to leave this room and not return. Oberleutenant Tracy is now under my direct protection.’ ‘You cannot do that, Generaloberst left him under my command.’

Koch drew herself up. Absentmindedly Scott noticed that she was a tall woman, almost as tall as the Major and in no way was she intimidated by him.

‘You forget yourself, Major. I outrank you and I assure you that Generaloberst Koch will not be impressed at your treatment. You are undermining his plans. Now go.’

With a vicious look that promised retribution the Major and his men left, leaving Scott to slide off the chair now that his support had gone. Koch hit the emergency bell and medical staff came running.

She watched as the medics swarmed over Tracy, getting him back onto the bed and then rushing him off for scans to check for any damage the forcing of the tube down his throat and then ripping it out again. Koch kept pace with them until they refused her entry. So she took a stance against the wall and reluctantly made the call.

‘Ja?’ ‘Da ich bin.’ ‘Bericht.’ ‘Der Major ist ein Idiot. Tracy wird nicht gehorchen. Der Plan wird nicht funktionieren.’ ‘Schade. Finde dich damit ab.’ ‘Und Tracy?’ ‘Ich habe gesagt: Find dich damit ab.’

He didn’t wait for her reply, and Koch pondered how she was going to “deal with it” in a way that wouldn’t bring repercussions onto them. She stayed there, thinking, until the doors opened and a now-sedated Scott was wheeled back into his room.

The Doctor’s report was scathing about what had happened but ultimately – and miraculously – no permanent damaged had been done and with rest and more medical care Oberleutenant Tracy would be able to be discharged in around four days.

Four days wasn’t long, but she had a plan now. Koch settled in the chair beside her charge and carried on making phone calls. By the time the sun rose the next day all her plans were now in motion.

When Scott finally woke up the Stabshauptmannn was standing at ease where she always stood, with both Scott and the door in full view. He had a moment when he thought that the woman must have been standing there for days, but he drifted off before the thought could coalesce.

The next time he woke up his whole upper body felt like it had been scraped raw, which he supposed was actually what had happened. As he looked around he noticed Koch was missing but another woman with the same rank was standing at the foot of his bed.

When she noticed that he was awake she saluted him. Scott returned the gesture, albeit stiffly. She didn’t talk to him but stood to the side as the medics entered the room. The doctor stopped at his side and for the first time spoke to him. When Scott answered his voice was rough.

‘You will be sore for a little while, Oberleutenant Tracy, but you have suffered no lasting damage. No food for a few more days yet, but after that we want you to eat.’ ‘I made my stance clear.’

The Stabshauptmannn tutted but didn’t say anything more, ignoring the looks both men cast her.

‘I can only encourage you. You will heal better with real food once you can eat safely.’ ‘I understand. But this is not open for negotiation.’

The doctor paused and regarded him seriously.

‘I think you are an idiot. But…’

Scott nodded and reached over, giving the doctor’s arm a squeeze. It was the only thing he could think to do to reassure the man that he’d thought through what he was doing and didn’t hold the medic in any way to blame. It was only at this gesture that Scott realised he had not been recuffed to the bed.

‘Stabshauptmannn Koch has requested we get you ready for transport today.’

Slowly Scott sat up, frown clear. They were moving him? Panic seized him – they had promised that he needed to be fit for the trial, they wanted him at his best, and Scott was realistic about how awful he looked.

The obs machine started beeping and the doctor was talking to him but Scott couldn’t hear him. Vaguely he was aware that he was having a panic attack and he fought to get himself under control.

‘Calm yourself, Oberleutenant Tracy.’

Ah, Stabshauptmannn Koch was back. She stood at the bottom of his bed where he could see her, and her calm, matter-of-face tone helped him to ground himself.

When Scott was under control she asked the medics to leave and once it was just the three of them.

‘You are to be transferred, Oberleutenant. You have become…a problem. And I have been tasked with…dealing with you. Stabshauptmannn Kurschat will escort you. Goodbye, Oberleutenant Tracy, I hope we never meet again.’

She smartly saluted, executed a perfect military turn, and left.

Scott blinked, unable to process what she was saying. But the smirk on Kurschat’s face told him that he’d heard her correctly.

Within a couple of hours Scott – bed, obs machine and IVs all and still minus cuffs – was in an ambulance with a nurse, heading he did not know where. He took the time to rest as much as he could as he had no idea what would happen once he arrived, and he had plenty of experience of how Bereznik treated their prisoners.

It was several hours later and darkness had fallen when they arrived. Stabshauptmannn Kurschat stayed in the ambulance as he was wheeled out. In the darkness Scott didn’t get to see what kind of building he was being taken into but the smell of disinfectant told him that it was another hospital.

No one spoke as he was wheeled in. He was settled in a room, but weirdly his obs machine wasn’t plugged in.

In fact, they unplugged him completely, just left the IVs in. Confused, Scott stayed quiet. He might not understand what was going on, but there was just the slightest of chances that this was not an accident.

He feigned sleep for a couple of hours and was just on the verge of drifting off when his door was slowly and quietly opened. A man entered, covered in clothing that Scott knew by heart and for once in the last six months he felt an old emotion welling up.

As Kyrano smiled gently at him Scott felt hope for the first time since he’d been shot down…

fin

Translation by google (so sorry if it isn't right)

This last week he’d gone from Presidential shoe-in, second richest man in the world and Head of both Tracy Industries and International Rescue to world pariah. It had only taken a couple of hours for the news to…

The TV, quietly playing in the background, suddenly flashed up with a picture of that bastard arriving at TI to take control. With as much force as he could muster he flung the remote at it, breaking the screen.

That - that bastard, he’d taken everything from him! He’d done it when he was four and he was doing it again!

No! Jeff wasn’t going to take this, not again, and definitely not from …

He sat back suddenly. A pain erupted in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. It felt like his eyes were going to burst from their sockets.

Jeff clawed at his throat but he couldn’t get his shirt undone. He was getting weaker by the second. Black spots appeared in his vision and his vision dimmed.

The edge of the bed gave way as he swayed and fell on all fours between the bed and the wall. There was just enough energy for him to vomit and just enough time for Jeff to register with dismay that his bowels had evacuated themselves before he collapsed completely and knew no more.

…

Room 16 had been paid for for three nights but by night six the keys had still not been returned. This wasn’t an unusual state of affairs for the motel – people often found they needed a quick get-a-way – so the kid at the desk didn’t think anything of it as he took the master key and went to check on the state of the room.

The door opened and the smell immediately made the kid gag, so he hid his nose in the crook of his elbow and stepped in.

The first thing he saw had him backing out quickly, forgetting about relocking the door as he pulled out his phone with a shaky hand.

‘911 what is the address of your emergency?’ ‘Uh…The Paradise Motel on I-95 outside New Rochelle. I – I found a body.’

~