Alan notices the VGR pivoting, the rocket blasting back to Earth.
Alan:
Erm, Scott? The rocket.
Scott:
No! Thunderbird 3 to Atlantica Headquaters, get out of there, now!
Brains scans the dashboard, and the programing registers Atlantica as the target!
Sergeant Dalton:
Must have run out of power.
Sergeant Mantez:
But it wouldn't be crashing back down.
Brains:
The VGR has... What it must t-think is that it has hi-it its target. And n-now, it has no further targets and is to ret-turn to b-base.
Virgil:
Then everyone get out of here!
Everyone starts rushing out, except Virgil, MAX and Brains.
Brains:
F-five minutes to impact. If I c-can just find the destructor c-codes.
Virgil:
Brains, we don't have time. That missile is dropping back like a stone. If it hits back at Atlantica then it will start a holocaust in North America. And if some of those missiles are launched, who knows what damage can be done.
Scott:
Virgil, move!
Virgil:
Coming! Brains, we can let MAX do it!
Brains:
MAX! No! Not MAX!
Scott:
MAX is just a machine Brains!
Brains:
No he isn't!
Virgil:
Don't you understand Brains, this is exactly what MAX was built for! For rescue situations where no man can survive.
Brains:
MAX wouldn't stand a ch-chance!
Virgil:
Brains, please!
Brains turns to MAX, awkwardly standing by the desk board, looking at his master.
Brains:
MAX...
MAX begins to realise. Meanwhile, Thunderbird 3 blasts down to Earth, quickly chasing the rocket, hurrying through the atmosphere and sidelining along with the VGR.
Alan:
Can't we even touch it?
Scott:
Negative.
Alan:
Then why are we following it?
Scott:
In case we can deploy a grasping arm on the VGR. Brains, Virgil, you out yet?
Virgil and Brains dash out through the corridors nearing the exit.
Virgil:
We're on our way. Soon we'll all be out.
Brains:
Except MAX!
Virgil:
You've got his data chip, and you said that's all we need when we salvaged it from the Arctic Circle.
Alan:
So you left his spare parts in central control?
Brains:
The rest I have programmed!
Scott:
Hurry! Impact three minutes!
Thunderbird 3 and the VGR whizz to Atlantica. Now, Virgil and Brains rush to Thunderbird 2, with Virgil jumps into his seat as the others sit at the controls behind the pilot.
Virgil:
Lifting off!
Thunderbird 2 blasts off and hurries away from the missile site. Inside Atlantica, MAX hurries through the controls and desk further, programed by Brains.
Gordon:
Impact now two minutes!
Sergeant Mantez:
The rest of the guards have been evacuated in the other crafts. They're safe.
Virgil:
For now. If MAX doesn't stop the rocket...
Brains:
Don't Virgil.
Colonel Henderson:
Sorry to change the subject International Rescue, but I must say you're your crafts...
Gordon:
Later Colonel!
YOU ARE READING
Thunderbirds Are Go!: Malfunction
FanfictionAtlantica Headquarters - a military foundation stored with half a dozen rockets and missiles on the island. Contained by the US government in case of any hostile threat, extraterrestrial or simply independent renegade groups. With Atlantica recently...
