Many, many heartfelt and sincere thanks to my lovely beta Marg, whose guidance helped give this little story wings.
His breath sounded harsh in his ears. It echoed, resonating rhythmically as he stared into the murky darkness around him. A hint of light ahead urged him forward, the tunnel walls seeming to press in on him. He could sense rather than see his brother's presence, reassured he wasn't alone.
The tunnel came to an abrupt end and he emerged into an overwhelming openness that left him feeling simultaneously relieved and oddly vulnerable. A quick change of direction and the place burst into life. Bright corals and colourful fish darting between the anemones caught his imagination and transported him into another world.
He floated along, buffeted gently by the undulations of the currents as he explored the small crevices between the rocks. Tiny crabs and sea creatures scuttled away, seeking protection from his larger size and intimidating presence. He sometimes wished he could do that.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd undertaken something as simple as this. He was an adrenaline junkie at heart; his hobbies revolved around speed, the faster he went the better. Be it running, abseiling or flying, he couldn't get enough. Even hazardous rescues where they saved lives in the nick of time left him feeling elated.
It was a demanding job as International Rescue's Field Commander. Yet he was good at it; he knew it without having to be told. He'd always been able to think outside the box and quickly work out solutions to problems. His military training had taught him to lead, given him the air of quiet confidence that was desperately needed at the danger zone.
Despite his outward calm, he felt the pressure every time he stepped out of Thunderbird One. He could sense the collective sigh of relief from the people in charge at the site, feel their grateful unburdening of responsibility onto his own shoulders. Their unwavering belief that he and his brothers would save whoever needed rescuing that day added an extra burden.
Yet there was always the fear of failure hanging over his head. What if he let them down? What would happen the day they didn't get everyone out safely? If, God forbid, one of his brothers was injured...or worse? So far everything had turned out alright and he had met everyone's exceedingly high expectations.
So far.
Success came at a price though. Only his Father and Grandma knew of the sleepless nights he experienced after a particularly close rescue. Nights where he was almost afraid to close his eyes and sleep, lest the nightmares begin. The images, the screams and fear would have him waking bathed in sweat, his heart thumping double-time as adrenaline coursed through him. In the first moments of consciousness his brain was too foggy to immediately discern between dream and reality. On those nights he wandered through the villa as silent as a spectre, listening to his brothers' deep breathing and gentle snores as they slept. Only then was he reassured of their safety enough to return to his room and sleep.
Then there was the other family business, the multinational conglomerate he was being groomed to take over, when the time came. While his Father was CEO of the company and all its subsidiaries, Scott himself was head of the Aeronautical Design and Construction Division, but Jeff was also including him more and more in the workings of the parent company. Years before, Scott had been in charge of testing the new planes, but no more. Apart from his being the CEO apparent and senior VP, he was IR's Field Commander. His Father no longer wanted to risk him in an untried aircraft and while he understood why, he still felt the loss keenly. Now he was steeped in the running of the business. Most of the day to day management could be accomplished via the video hook-up with his advisors, but he now had to make regular trips to New York or Washington, Hong Kong or Tokyo. After all, if a company was willing to pour billions of dollars into the Tracy coffers, they deserved a face to face meeting. Meetings that often kept him away from the Island and International Rescue for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Meetings with clients who wanted the new technology but quibbled over the final cost. Meetings where he would steal surreptitious glances out of the window and wish he was flying.
The business had started small but had grown exponentially over the years to the point where it now had an annual turnover with so many zeros that Scott could only be amazed. The money garnered from the company kept International Rescue operating and the cost of keeping the craft in the air was exorbitant. Without Tracy Industries keeping it afloat, IR would be permanently grounded. So Scott would grit his teeth and tamp down the slight feeling of resentment. He knew the business meetings were a necessary evil.
Down here on the reef though, the pressures of the company and International Rescue seemed a world away. Down here, there was no pressure. No responsibilities. No hopeful-faced victims expecting him to make everything right. No brothers relying on his advice and command, trusting that he would make the right decisions and keep everyone safe. He felt the weight lift from him.
He appreciated the unexpected reprieve.
Stretching out a wetsuit clad arm, he smiled as an anemone snapped its waving tendrils inwards on itself, away from his inquisitive finger. Gordon darted past him, swimming with the pair of dolphins that regularly appeared in their island's small bay. Gordon flashed him a thumbs up as he sped by, one hand holding firmly to a dorsal fin, a grin almost splitting his face with the sheer joy of being underwater.
Where the sky was Scott's own playground, this was Gordon's and his enthusiasm was suddenly infectious. He swam after his younger brother and was soon nudged by one of the friendly dolphins who swam around him in increasingly tighter circles. He reached out a tentative hand, feeling the smooth almost rubbery skin under his fingertips. The dolphin circled him once more, rubbing itself against Scott's hand as if wanting the touch. His hand nudged the dorsal fin and the dolphin leapt playfully forward before coming back.
Scott got the idea.
No sooner had he grabbed its fin than the dolphin surged forward with a powerful kick of its fluke. Scott's breath caught at the sheer speed and grace with which the dolphin swam, the feeling of controlled strength as it powered through the water. In no time they had left the relative security of the reef into deeper ocean where all was stygian blackness below. He felt the drop in temperature through his wetsuit and unconsciously tightened his grip. The dolphin adjusted its direction and the island's shelf reappeared ahead. He felt the laughter welling up at the headlong rush through the water. He couldn't remember the last time he had wanted to laugh with such abandon.
Eventually the dolphin returned to the reef and he released his hold, grateful for and humbled by the experience. Gordon touched him on the shoulder as the two dolphins circled them once before heading into deeper water.
"Boys?" His father's voice flowed from his earpiece, shattering the moment. "How are the masks?"
"They're great Dad!" he heard Gordon enthuse. "Tell Brains he's on a winner."
"Thank you Gordon. Scott? What's your opinion?"
"They're sound, Father. Visibility's excellent and the fit is quite comfortable. All that remains to be seen is whether they pass the pressure test."
"Al right then boys. Better get topside, a hurricane is about to cross the U.S. coast and we may be needed."
"FAB."
Scott shut off his communicator as the familiar mantle of responsibility settled imperceptibly on his shoulders. He shared a glance with Gordon, the disappointment clear on his younger brother's face as he turned to head for home. A quick glance over his own shoulder as he followed behind firmed his resolve. He would be back. He'd forgotten how peaceful the reef was and the short respite was temptingly addictive.
