Sally's Secret

Chapter 23

Virgil reluctantly left the Vektor Institute and went home with Scott. He ate and slept in a dazed human version of auto-pilot. He'd been home less than ten hours when John's holo-image popped into his dark bedroom. "Virgil, can I talk to you?" His voice was a lot less urgent than his Thunderbird 5 call-to-action voice. It was more like in-person, sounding like a brother rather than a dispatcher.

Virgil sat up, squinting while his eyes adjusted. "What's up, John?"

"We've got a rescue that's going to need the power exo-suit. Alan's willing to take it, but—"

"But the exo-suit is built for me and will never fit his skinny little frame." Piloting Thunderbird 2 was one thing, but if muscle was needed, Alan was poorly suited to be his substitute. "Tell Alan to go back to bed. I'll take it."

"Are you sure? Scott said you're on leave and I think Grandma Tracy will kill me for even talking to you right now."

Virgil's feet hit the floor and he stood. "Yeah, well, emergencies don't take a break. I got some sleep and Brains has Dr. Harrison on electronic tether, so no use sitting around and wallowing in worry. May as well do what I can. You can tell Scott and Grandma I volunteered."

"F.A.B."

The rescue turned out to be a difficult one, but Virgil found that concentrating on someone else's problems let him forget his own for a little while. When he had time to think again, his concerns felt a little more manageable than when he brooded about them continuously. He hated being helpless, but there was nothing he could do for Maria right now. Helping someone else made the sting of that reality a little less sharp. He went back on duty with the understanding that his status would change when Maria's did.

About four days after they'd rescued her from that lunatic's submarine of horrors, Dr. Harrison called Brains over the IR comms channel. "Miss Anderson is developing lung congestion, as we feared. She's coughing a little under the sedation, but we need to wake her up so she can clear her lungs better. Can Virgil get back here today?"

Virgil had heard Dr. Harrison's voice from the kitchen, and he ran up the stairs with Scott on his heels. "Hey, doc," Virgil said, panting lightly as he arrived in the lounge. "I can be there in thirty minutes."

"Twenty," Scott amended, clapping him on the back. "I'll drop you off in Thunderbird 1."

Dropping off meant Thunderbird 2 would still be available for rescues, so Virgil didn't argue. Furthermore, being a passenger meant he didn't have to suit up in his uniform. He could wear his comfortable flannel and jeans. Of course, he still had to take his biohazard gear if he intended to actually get into that white room. He turned to thank his brother, but Scott was already heading for the lamp sconces that triggered his own gear-up.

Dr. Harrison chuckled. "You weren't kidding about getting here fast. I'll meet you in the observation deck when you arrive."

"F.A.B." Virgil said.

"Call me when you can, Virgil," Grandma requested as he took off toward the hangar.

"I will," he promised. It was a good thing she'd mentioned it or he wouldn't have thought to grab a portable comms unit. He was so used to having that convenient button on his sash. It felt very strange to be running to the hangar in his civvies and not shooting backwards down his gear-up chute, but it was a good strange. Biohazard suit and portable comms in hand, he rode the robotic lift up to Thunderbird 1's auxiliary hatch just as Scott was travelling overhead to the pilot's seat.

John called en route with a situation for Scott, which meant Scott wouldn't be able to go inside when they got to Vektor.

"You want me to strap on a parachute and jump out?" Virgil asked. Not really his favourite way to deplane, but he'd do it to save a life.