Scott always felt a spike of
adrenalin when he faced his chute. There was something about the fast drop, the
abrupt change of clothing, the impending rescue, that always got his blood
pumping. It was likely a design aim to get him prepped not just in clothing. In
any case, it was one hell of a ride.
As he stepped onto the platform
it began its familiar plummet. The spinner deployed, its perfectly synchronised
arms swooping around him in a smooth arc, removing the specially designed casual
clothing. It separated at hidden seams and was quickly replaced by his uniform.
It was horribly boring at times to have to wear the same clothing day in day
out, but when a rescue call came in, the speed of which the chute was able to remove
his daywear and replace it with his uniform made it worth it. A life was not
worth a fashion choice.
It worked extremely quickly. A
hiss, the flutter of cloth, the briefest draught on an arm, a leg…
A horrible grinding crunch, a
screech of metal on metal, and he was suddenly thrown to the floor.
All the lights blinked out.
The soft sound of cloth falling
to the floor.
What the hell-
He had one bare leg, one bare
arm and most of his torso was open to the breeze. The bare arm was complaining
loudly and investigation found it warm and wet. Damn, he was bleeding.
Poking around in the total
darkness, he found a piece of his disassembled clothing and wrapped it tightly
around his forearm hoping it would stop whatever was causing the blood loss.
Next job was to locate his
comms. There were two options, the comm in his casual clothes collar or the
comm in his uniform baldric. He struggled to his feet.
In the dark, he could find
As he shifted from one foot to
the other, there was a whining groan and the elevator car shuddered.
Very carefully he lowered
himself to the floor. It wouldn’t be long before his brothers realised that
Thunderbird One was going nowhere.
He looked up towards the
entrance far above him.