Gordon had the music up loud.
Doing maintenance on his baby was important, but sometimes it just bored his brain into leaking out his nostrils and music always made everything better.
Especially when it vibrated the module walls.
The fact he managed to hear a crash over the blaring classic AC/DC was a sign of exactly how loud the crash had been.
A frown and he killed the volume.
Metal hitting concrete was suddenly followed by breaking glass.
What the hell?!
Dropping the wrench, Gordon slipped out of Module Four and crept in the direction of the cacophony. Thunderbird Two towered green over him, as he stepped quietly around her.
Virgil’s workshop. Usually a picture perfect poster of order and precision, had tools scattered out the door. The window between the hanger and the workshop lay in shards on the concrete.
There was a yell and a single spanner flew out the door, across the hanger and clattered harmlessly against Thunderbird Two’s hull before it too hit the concrete. Another almighty crash had Gordon hurrying over to peer through the broken window.
Two of Virgil’s precious metal tool chests were on their sides, their orderly tools scattered across the floor and out the door. One wall had a massive dent in it where something heavy had obviously impacted. Half the worktops had been cleared, forcibly, work in progress all over the floor, one of them being what Gordon knew to be Virgil’s latest pet project. Damn.
Who would do this to his brother’s workshop?
His question was answered almost immediately as his second eldest brother stood up from behind one of the workbenches and tossed the remains of another project at the wall beside Gordon.
He ducked as bits of metal ricohetted off the drywall and over his head. “Virgil, what the hell?”
His brother’s head shot up, and to Gordon’s horror, he found him teary and red-eyed. “Go away.”
“What’s wrong?” Gordon’s heart was in his left shoe. Something horrible had to have happened. Virgil was never violent. Never. Well, he had heard rumours about what had happened when he had his hydrofoil accident all those years ago, but part of him hadn’t believed Alan.
A glance at the half destroyed workshop was supporting his younger brother’s arguments.
The anger, the out of character fury was so inconsistent with his calm brother, Gordon couldn’t do anything but what he was told.
He stepped back and away, hiding himself from Virgil’s direct line of sight and hit his comms.
“Scott, what the hell is going on?”
Another unidentifiable tool flew past and hit his brother’s ‘bird. Gordon couldn’t help but flinch.
“Gordon, get up here. We have a situation.” Scott’s voice was horribly tense.
That voice fell hoarse and quiet. “Leave him be.”
Gordon frowned. “Are you sure? He’s destroying his workshop.”
“Ah, not the workshop. Shit.”
A pained sigh. “Leave him to me. You need to get up here.”
“Okay.” And his own voice was growing faint. What the hell had happened? The sounds coming from the workshop…he peered around the corner. Virgil was hunched over one of the benches, his shoulders shaking. Gordon’s gut twisted as he hid back around the corner, his voice barely a whisper. “But you need to get down here, Scott. Now.”
“I know.” And his brother killed the connection.
There was another yell and something else made of glass shattered in the room beyond. It was followed by a sob.
Gordon found himself holding back one of his own. Stepping away, horror and dread in his heart. He had to find out what had happened, but for it to affect Virgil like this….
He was terrified.