#of course every detail shown about gordon's relations with the others in this movie is *fascinating*

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Underappreciated aspect of The Great Race: Gordon and Philip's evolving relationship.

It's so pure how Philip consistently calls/refers to Gordon as "the Shooting Star" (even when he's being menaced by that mean American lug and shoved off a cliff! even then, he still remembers Gordon's new 'pronouns'!)

Gordon seems to really appreciate Philip being the only one to respect his preferred name, too. He clearly finds Philip annoying at the beginning of the movie, but they be rollin' along together at the end.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch10

Two brothers for the price of one tonight.  It turns out it was almost harder to get a decent photo of my sketchbook that it was to do the sketches themselves and I still needed the help of @willow-salix�� to do something with the lighting.  She has many talents and I am abusing them all.

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Ten

Jeff dialled his son’s number for a third time that day and yet again received nothing but a voicemail message.  It looked like Gordon was once more going to be the cause of a tension headache for him.  He tossed his phone down and dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his temples in an attempt to stave it off.  When he did finally get through to Gordon he would have to have severe words about the importance of staying in contact.  Yesterday he had been prepared to overlook the lack of a phone call to check in at the end of his journey, one of the few courtesies he expected when his sons, but to still be out of reach a day later was not acceptable.  None of the others would have shown such a lack of respect for the rules but Gordon seemed determined to push the boundaries.

He glanced at the papers on his desk, reading through the details once again.  It really was a very generous offer and rather more than he felt Gordon deserved, truth be told, given the boy’s current lack of enthusiasm for anything other than swimming.  Wilbur Dandridge had thrown Jeff a lifeline that would give Gordon a solid start in a prestigious internship at his company, Gazelle Automations.  The offer meant Gordon would need to move to New York but Jeff was more than willing to finance an apartment, just as he had for the others for their college studies.  

Ever since college Jeff and Wilbur Dandridge had been firm friends, making a point of checking in every few months and keeping up to date with each others lives. Jeff hadn't meant to burden his friend with his family woes but he supposed it had been inevitable, Wilbur had always been the observant type and an empathetic listener.  Wilbur seemed to have this innate ability to sense the needs of others,  something that helped him in his work and allowed him to design products that people sometimes hadn’t even realised they needed.  On this occasion he had come up with the offer of an internship for Gordon.  The only problem was Wilbur needed a decision imminently and for that Jeff needed to get an answer from Gordon.

After three failed calls it was obvious he wasn’t going to have any luck getting hold of Gordon directly, he would have to take a different approach to track down the cause of his frustrations.  He picked up his phone again and hit speed dial 2.  This time the phone connected almost immediately, Virgil answering before the third ring had finished.

“Hi Dad, how are you?” 

“Fine, fine” he said impatiently. “I just need to speak to Gordon, can you put him on.” 

“Gordon?”  There was a slight pause.  “He’s not here.”

“Well when he gets back from wherever he's hiding, tell him to call me immediately.  And get him to charge his damn phone.”

"Why would he be here?  He’s grounded, isn’t he?  He told me he wasn’t allowed to come.”

This time it was Jeff’s turn to pause as his son’s words sank in.  Just the day before he had watched Gordon leave for the airport, bag in hand, ostensibly heading off for a few days in Denver.  Now it would appear that same son had never arrived.  He hadn’t grounded him.  He'd watched him leave for the airport where the driver had reported that he'd dropped Gordon off outside, only leaving once Gordon was inside the terminal building as per normal. He was supposed to be in Denver, but it appeared that his son had never arrived. 

“When did he tell you this?”

“Yesterday morning.  Dad, what’s going on?  Isn’t Gordon there with you?”

“No, and I don’t know where he is.  Look, if he gets in touch with you just let me know.”

“Of course.  And Dad, if you find him first please tell me.  This isn’t like him” the worry in Virgil’s voice was clearly evident.

“Of course I will.  Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

Jeff hung up, his stomach churning.  In the space of a few minutes he had gone from angry to worried sick.  

Of all his sons he had always found Gordon the most challenging but he would never have predicted the teen would run away.  There was no denying that relations had become increasingly strained but he hadn’t realised it had gotten that bad. 

He looked at the clock; his son had been missing for just over twenty-four hours but with no evidence of foul play the police probably wouldn't be interested, Gordon was nearly an adult after all.  Well, just because the official authorities wouldn’t do anything yet didn’t mean he had to sit passively by.  For all the frustrations he caused, all the arguments and heartache, Gordon was still his son.  To the outside world he was a hard headed business man, distinguished astronaut and accomplished military leader.  Few people got to see the other side to him, the paternal side, it was part of the reason why he kept his children out of the media.  He wasn’t prepared to just wait for yet more time to pass, he would have to do some investigating himself. 

Jeff logged in to his Air Terrainean account.  He knew Gordon had made it to the airport but he had to have gone somewhere. By checking to see if his ticket had been used he would know if they needed to search Denver or there in Los Angeles.  When the travel history screen finally loaded the word on the screen left him reeling.

Marineville.

It might be the home of a different force to that in which he had served in but Marineville was famous as the largest WASP base on the western seaboard.  it was a military town with nothing else for miles around; if Gordon had boarded a flight for Marineville then there could only be one intended destination.  It was time to make some more phone calls.

xoxoxox

Commander Shore looked up from his screen in surprise as the phone on the corner of his desk rang, the sharp trill cutting through his concentration.  Calls themselves were not unusual but most of them came through the internal switchboard system, even his own daughter was unable to reach him directly but the distinctive ring indicated an outside line.  Only a handful of people in the world had this number and he wasn’t expecting a call from any of them.

“This is Commander Shore” he greeted the caller.

“Colonel Jeff Tracy, Commander.  I believe you have my son.”

Shore wracked his brains.  Colonel wasn’t a designation within the World Navy and he could see no reason why anyone from the World Army Air Force or the domestic armed forces would be calling him; especially about their son.

“I’m sorry Colonel, but I don’t quite follow you.”

“My son, Commander.  Gordon Tracy.  He is at Marineville.”

Commander Shore waved over his assistant and hurriedly scribbled down the name on a piece of paper.  He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but he hadn’t been given command of Marineville by being phased by the unexpected.   Within moments the assistant had checked the Marineville logs and found a match for the name.

“Ah yes, Colonel.  I can see that Mr Tracy is currently a participant on one of our selection courses”

“Well he shouldn’t be.”

“Excuse me, Colonel?”

“My son is seventeen, a minor.  He does not have my authorization to be there and I want him home.”

Commander Shore was feeling decidedly on the back foot, dealing with irate parents was not normally part of his job description.

The assistant returned a second time and slid a piece of paper in front of him.  The sheet bore the public resume of Jeff Tracy.  No wonder Shore had been feeling the nagging prickles of recognition at the name; the man on the other end of the line was one of the richest and most influential in the country and had the ability to make life very difficult if he so chose.

“I have a copy of his permission form in front of me.  I can assure you WASP takes these allegations very seriously…”

“This is not an allegation, it is hard fact.  Your shoddy systems have allowed a child to waltz onto your base unchallenged.  I will be sending someone to collect Gordon this afternoon.  Just consider yourself lucky I’m not inclined to get my lawyers involved in this blatant disregard of protocol and maladministration.”

The line went dead.

Commander Shore leant back heavily in his chair.  Technically everything that happened at Marineville fell under his jurisdiction but he wasn’t normally involved with the recruits.  Heck, if his assistant hadn’t been so quick off the mark he wouldn’t have even known there was a selection course running, let alone who was on it or if any of them were under age.  

Gordon wasn't the first person to try and join WASP against their family’s wishes and probably wouldn’t be the last but evidently this time the family was not going to just sit back and let it happen.  Jeff Tracy was a formidable man and if he decided to make waves Shore wasn’t too sure how much support he would receive from his superiors.  The very fact that Colonel Tracy had somehow accessed his direct line showed that the man had friends in high places.

Commander Shore passed the unenviable challenge of locating the missing Tracy son to his assistant.  Marineville had a population of tens of thousands and covered several square miles; the selection course could be taking place anywhere.  He just hoped they could find the boy before whoever Colonel Tracy had tasked to collect him arrived.

xoxoxox

Scott pulled into the visitors’ parking lot outside the Marineville security gate that stood guard over the base and screeched to a halt, slamming the door closed behind him.  Of all the ways he had envisaged spending his day off this had not been part of his plans.  A long run had been a possibility, maybe catch up on the stack of unwatched movies he had built up before heading into town to watch a band with a couple of the guys from his unit and, if he was lucky, pick up a girl. Instead the only thing he would be picking up today was a little brother.  

His own Air Force base was about an hour east of Marineville and as the nearest family member he had been sent on a trek across the state to find Gordon and ship him back home on the next available flight.  Instead of calming down on the journey his frustrations had built up further.  The phone call from his father had ruined his day.  It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his brothers, it just rankled that he was expected to drop everything to sort out the mess.  Jeff didn’t ask, he demanded.   There was a clear expectation that he would do as he was told and Jeff left no room for argument.  He wasn’t sure who he was more mad at; Gordon for engineering this whole situation or his father for still managing to dictate his life even from afar. 

First Lieutenant Tracy on a good day was formidable but on a bad day he could be terrifying.  Despite technically being off duty he had opted for his dress uniform and he cut an imposing figure in the dark blue, standing out starkly amongst the grey of the WASP.  The man that strode across to the guard house had the aura of one who was used to being obeyed despite his relatively junior status and it was no surprise he was climbing the ranks so quickly.  

“Can I help you, Sir?” the guard on duty acknowledged his approach.

“Scott Tracy.”  He flashed his identification card.  “I’m here to collect Gordon Tracy, I believe you are expecting me.”

“Very good, Sir” the guard said, after examining the waved credentials.  “If you could just wait here a moment, your transport will be along soon.”   

The memo, issued by none other than Commander Shore himself, had already come down regarding the Tracys and the instructions were clear, do everything to keep them sweet.  Even after the briefest of interactions the guard was quite thankful he would not be involved beyond greeting the visitor.  He certainly didn’t envy the Tracy who was the cause of all the trouble, the man in front of him looked stormy to say the least. 

One phone call and five short minutes later and a jeep was approaching the guard house.  Without waiting for an invitation, Scott climbed in and he and the driver were soon crossing the sprawling expanse that was Marineville.  Before many more minutes had passed the jeep was rolling to a stop at their destination; a massive obstacle course that stretched away into the distance, the many elements looking like they would pose a stiff challenge to anyone tackling the beast.

“He’s not here” stated Scott bluntly, surveying the crowd of hopefuls waiting their turn.

“Sir, the timetable states that your brother is part of this group.”

Scott’s frown clearly showed his opinion on the record keeping abilities of WASP however he had little option but to follow his driver over to the officers in charge of the group.  The two assessors acknowledged their approach, looking curiously at the out of place Air Force officer, but continued their job; one observing a cluster of participants out on the course through binoculars while the other jotted down the notes.

“Can I help you?” 

Scott was saved from answering by his chaperone.  “We have been alerted that there is an unauthorized minor in your cohort.  First Lieutenant Tracy is here to escort his brother home.”

“Yes, but I can’t see him”  Scott’s frown deepened as he took a closer look at the waiting group.  “It looks like your information may be flawed.”

“He might be out on the course.”

“Might?  Surely you know who you have out there.”

“WASP uses anonymous observation.  Participant details are held by Central Control, we only know them as numbers to avoid bias” the assessor indicated the numbered armbands worn by each participant.  “If your brother is listed as part of this group and is not with those waiting he must be one of the four currently on test.  This is a group task so you will have to wait until they finish.  It won’t take them long, they are making good progress now they have realised they they have to work together.”

The officers turned their attention back to the course and with nothing else to do Scott found himself also watching the progress of the group, not that he could see much.  The course was massive and the participants were just four indistinct figures in distance.  All he wanted to do was get Gordon, get out of there then head back to his own base; each passing minute was eating into his time off and he could feel the resentment building.

“So how are they doing?” the assessor making notes asked the observer with the binoculars; they still had a job to do and participants that needed grading.   

“6 is looking strong and 3 is also putting in a solid performance.  10 is a borderline fail though unless they buck their ideas up.”

“What about 14?”

“Still leading the way and carrying the rest of the group; that lot wouldn’t be doing nearly so well without him.”

“He’s the one that figured out they had to work together?”

“Looked like it; they certainly all seem to be deferring to him now.  He’s wasted in junior ranks.  If he keeps up this level of performance I’ll be recommending him for the officer stream at the end of the course.”

“I know what you mean.  Him and 5 have been the leading the way in all the tests and are both natural leaders although 14 put in a much stronger performance in the pool.  I’ll be interested to see how 5 gets on out there when it’s his turn.”

“Well concentrate on these four for now. 10 is still lagging, I don’t think he would have made it over that last gap without 6’s help.  6 has certainly got the strength but is happy to let 14 lead.”

“And 3?”

“Keeping up and doing what he is told by the look of it; good balance and strength but a follower rather than a leader.  You would think 14 had been doing this for years though, not faced with it for the first time.  He is a quick thinker and the others are respecting his decisions.  Definitely officer material.”

Scott listened to the conversation with vague interest.  Participant 10 sounded like they were in trouble and might not make the cut but 14 must have made an impression going by the judgements being made.  He valued those that could use their own initiative and wished he had few more like that in his own Air Force unit.  Of course the military needed its followers too otherwise the whole structure would disintegrate but good leaders were hard to come by; he was tempted to try and have a quiet word with number 14 and see if he could sway him towards a life in the skies.  

He wondered how his brother was faring; remembering his own military selection course and the desperate desire to make the grade.  The distant figures were too far away for him to even work out if one was Gordon let alone make out their numbers, perhaps the family swimmer was the solid number 3, the good strength and balance sounded fitting.  Not that it mattered though, their father had made it clear that Gordon was to be returned home immediately.

The four battling for their place within WASP had now reached the far end of the course.  They disappeared for a moment as they dropped off the top of the final wall then came back into view as they ran back the length of the course to the start.

The rapidly approaching figures began to resolve themselves into identifiable shapes and Scott was able to pick out the distinctive sandy blonde hair and muscular silhouette of his sibling.  It looked like he had been brought to the right place after all.  His gaze hardened as the object of his mission drew nearer.

The change in atmosphere was noticeable to the WASP officers as Scott stiffened and they watched with some trepidation as the four figures raced for the finish line.  Evidently the errant Tracy had been sighted and was not in for a happy reunion.  

The quartet made it to the finish.  One collapsed to the floor in heap while two more ended up bent double, hands braced against knees for support as they gasped in ragged lungfuls of air.  The fourth, however, stayed upright although it was clear to see that this was taking effort.  His breathing was strained as he fought to keep his body under control after his exertions on the course but there was an iron determination not to show weakness.

The two brothers faced off and the tension in the air became electric.  The WASP officers stood back and gave them space, this was a family moment and any attempt to intervene would likely see them ending up as collateral damage.  

Scott looked down on his younger brother but if he was expecting Gordon to be cowed into submission he was sorely mistaken.  Even after the recent abuse it had endured, Gordon was keeping his body under tight control, back straight and shoulders broad.  The toffee eyes that stared up at him blazed with a fury he hadn’t encountered before and Scott found himself drawing on every inch of his superior height to exert dominance.  Blue and brown locked in an unspoken argument that was ferocious in it’s silence.  Both men stood rigid, neither breaking the deadlock.

“Gordon, you’re going home.”

The instruction was measured and more deadly than any shout but Scott wasn’t entirely sure Gordon was going to comply.  This was no longer the little brother he frequently had to pack off to bed or send to his room to complete homework.  The man in front of him bristled with a hatred that radiated off him.  

Gordon stared up into the crystal blue eyes, forcing his body to obey him and stay upright.  The surge of rage that had swept in was helping in taking the place of the adrenalin that had ebbed after reaching the end of the course.  He refused to bow down and give the submissive apology that was clearly expected.  He also knew though that he was beaten.  The very fact that Scott was there showed that he held the trump card and his falsified permission form had been exposed.  

This was the end of the line for WASP but there was no point in giving Scott the satisfaction of winning; he would do this on his own terms.  With eyes still locked on his brother he carefully slid the elastic cuff from his arm then turned and handed it out to the assessors.

“I voluntarily withdraw.  Thank you for the opportunity.” With head held high, he stepped around Scott to the waiting jeep.

It was as though a spell had been broken.  Released from that burning gaze Scott was suddenly aware that all eyes were on him.  He took a steadying breath to regain his composure then also turned to the WASP officers.

“I’m sorry for the trouble my brother has caused.”  

The officers just looked at him, speechless, still unsure as to what they had just witnessed.  Their strongest candidate exposed as a child who had no right to be there.  As Scott turned to leave he couldn’t help but see the number on the armband, still held in the officer’s outstretched hand.  

Number 14.