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MAYD CORRESPONDENCE
by BOOMERCAT
RATED FRPT

Grandma Tracy writes her friend about the events in Move and You're Dead

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My Dearest Tina,

Oh, dear heart, I have such a story to tell you! You’d warned me about the dangers of island living, malaria and pirates and such, but what actually happened neither you nor I could have ever imagined!

As you know, my sweet Alan came to pick me up after that grand victory at Parola Sands. And of course, he was quite full of himself. He’s grown up to be such a fine young man, but still he has that desire to show his big brothers that he is as good as they are, as if there was any doubt.

He was actually strutting as he came up the walk. I couldn’t help but smile. He was so proud of himself. Not just for the win, but also because he had been entrusted with picking me up. He was a touch condescending, as if I were an old ninny, but you know, I just let him have his day. He escorted me out to that ridiculous racecar of his, and he remembered his manners quite nicely, handing me into the car.

Yes, you read that right. Instead of renting a nice, normal car, he drove up in the same car he won the race with. I chided him on the extravagance. I assumed a beast of a car like that consumed fuel at an ungodly rate, but he just laughed, and explained to me that it was powered by a nuclear engine, very clean, and no fuel cost because it was self contained and would last the life of the car. It was one of Jeff’s company’s newest inventions.

Well, he thought nothing of sitting in that car, but let me tell you, I was about as uncomfortable as I could be. I kept thinking of Chernobyl. I half expected it to blow up on us. But I took comfort in the knowledge that the ride wasn’t to be long, only to the Dodge City airport where Virgil was to pick us up. I didn’t say a word to Alan, but I can assure you my little hiney was as tight as could be!

We were driving along as pretty as you please, when we came to a road closed sign. As soon as Alan slowed down, this awful man came out from behind a rock, and pointed a gun at us. I recognized him as that sleazy reporter who interrupted us at brunch. You remember him, I’m sure. He had that greasy black hair and the shifty eyes.

Well, apparently all of the odd questions about where we were headed were because he and his partner wanted to steal Alan’s car. He was apparently another racecar driver, who was jealous of my Alan. I knew we were in serious trouble as soon as Alan called the man by name. How did that awful man expect to get away with stealing the car when Alan recognized him?

The man and his partner forced Alan to drive onto the San Miguel bridge. Yes, the one and the same bridge that was in the news. Let me tell you, that was no collapse… but I don’t want to get ahead of my story here. Once we were on the bridge, the man handed Alan this odd little metal box with wires sticking up out of it. I had no idea what it was, but Alan certainly did, and he was furious.

There was little we could do about it with two guns pointed at us, so when they demanded that we climb up on the bridge, we had little choice. Alan told me to sit down against a beam, and I could hear the fear in his voice. I asked him about the box, and the thugs stealing the car laughed, and told him to explain it to me. Then they said there was a bomb attached to the bridge!

They said it would go off in a couple of hours, and my heart was in my throat. I just wanted them to leave, so we could get down and away. Of course, they knocked down the ladder that they had used to force us up on the bridge. We were about thirty feet above the road bed. But as you know, Alan has been a rock climber from the time he was a little one, and I believed that he could climb down with ease, and with his guidance, I was pretty sure I could get down too.

Well, that was where the little metal box came in. Alan explained that it would sense any movement we made, and set off the bomb immediately. Those evil crooks had switched it on before Alan could sit down. My poor love was forced to stand there in the full sun. You’ll remember that we were in the midst of a heat wave that week, and it felt as if it were a thousand degrees on that bridge. It was hard enough for me, sitting there, but Alan didn’t even have that.

Now, of course those men took our cell phones, but what they didn’t know was that Alan had on that Dick Tracy watch that John had made him. You remember that summer when John and Virgil were home from college, and all four of the boys watched that movie, and John said he could make watches like the one that Dick Tracy had. Well, he made them for each of the boys, and of course, Jeff just had to have one too. They’ve all worn them ever since.

Alan moved his arm ever so slowly up and was able to call his father. Jeff, as you know, is nothing if not decisive. He mobilized all the help in the world for us, and let’s suffice it to say, they figured out a way to get us down safely. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to find the bomb in time, and that supposed collapse they told of on the news was actually the bridge blowing up.

It was quite a sight, I’ll tell you. I was a bit distressed, but then I was told that it had been scheduled for demolition, so it wasn’t quite so horrible. They said the bridge was unsafe, but I must say, it seemed as solid as the rock of ages to me. Shows what I know, right?

It was quite the ordeal, but then Virgil was there, and we left, and by the time we reached the island, I was fine. Of course, Jeff was very upset by the entire thing, and all of the boys started the China Syndrome with me. One of these old days, I will convince them that I am not made of porcelain, but this was not the day. And to tell the truth, it was nice to be fussed over.

Well, I’ve said quite a lot haven’t I? And I haven’t even started in on my first meeting with Mr. Kyrano. But I will save that for my next letter, because I don’t want to leave out a single detail! I’ll write soon, my dear friend, and tell you all about it. In the meantime, understand that I am quite well, except for missing you.

Love you,

Ruth

 
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All characters that are original to the Thunderbirds universe  are the property of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson and Carlton International. No Infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

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