#ooc: this is shorter than planned but I was a’rambling

[squidsinashirt]

The house was too quiet - the way it always was when the same shared bitter dismay hung in the air between them. Nobody needed to give voice to it, and nobody dared. Today’s mission had been successful, by all accounts other than the Tracy standard of impossible perfection - not that it changed the shared collective view of those who did subscribe to it.

Dinner was in near silence, save for Alan’s nervous interjections, and plates were scraped of untouched food, before they had dispersed. Virgil to his painting, Alan to his bed, Scott to his desk - and Gordon to the pool.

The rocky beach at the bottom of the path almost called him, but a paddle out to the reef was for a night when everything was a little lighter. Floating on his back with no real purpose other than to relax and enjoy the night sky, the lull of the waves, the warmth of the ocean.

The pool was for thinking, for venting, for thrashing out length after length in the hope of settling his mind. In the space between two lane markers and the tiled ends, his own personal debrief lay and so - he swam.

Kick, catch, kick, pull.

The comfort of the repetition began to set in after the first ten lengths. The tension of the day beginning to ease with each slightly less irritated kick off the wall.

Kick, catch, kick, pull.

Sixty four life signs. Sixty four lengths. A mile. Nice round numbers. That’d do it.

Kick, catch, kick-

He wasn’t sure quite how long he had been swimming, before the chirp of his watch from the lounger on the deck caught his ear, and Gordon stopped mid-length. Dragging himself over the edge of the pool to reach it, before the author’s name appeared, and he pulled himself from the water to open it.

Penny.

That was quicker than expected.

He hadn’t even replied. Shit.

Brown eyes raced through the message, before lifting a brow in surprise at the answer. Really, he shouldn’t have been anything near surprised, was there anyone she didn’t know?

Frowning to himself as he draped his towel about his shoulders, Gordon headed back indoors, the lights low and the lounge still unusually silent.

Silent until Scott’s voice broke his concentration, brown eyes meeting blue across the room from where his eldest brother was still hunched over the desk, clearly in the thick of paperwork.

“You should’ve been in bed an hour ago.”

“So should you.”

The defeated sigh from Scott was as satisfying as ever. His brother’s gaze slid to the open comm on his watch, and Gordon gave a tilt of his head in acknowledgement.

“From Lady P. About Doha.”

“Anything?”

“Maybe, possibly, not sure. It’s just come through.”

“Let me know what she’s says.”

“F-A-B.”

“And then make sure you-“

“Hit the hay, I’m already gone. G’night, Scott.”

Another sigh, this time accompanied by a quiet chuckle as the elder Tracy accepted the answer.

“Sleep tight, Gordon.”

He was still re-reading both messages when he stepped into his room. Flicking on the sidelights and stepping around the yet unsorted pile of clothing that occupied half of the floor (that was on the to do list). Fingers dancing across the holokeys in reply as he stepped into the ensuite, waving a hand to start the shower in practiced habit.

COMMS BEGIN

Don’t worry, twenty four hour service here, you know that. Just finished an almost midnight swim, as it happens, good timing.

Sorry, sorry for the radio silence earlier. Long day and didn’t get a chance to reply properly. Got home a couple of hours ago to a cracked impeller blade, and a control panel lit up like a Christmas tree so… busy day. Working on that ‘rest’.

Anyway, thank you, I appreciate you looking into it. That’s got to be the quickest ‘couple of days’ ever though.

I’m glad the Gordon Tracy squid sense is as accurate as ever, and your favourite hobby of hobnobbing with the billionaires of the world is as useful.

That’s them, I’d know that fishy logo anywhere. Guessing you got the same reception Scott did. Nice guy, this Price - not. What’s the deal with him then, how do you know him? This another Creighton-Ward investment?

Nothing was right about that entire scenario today. Didn’t find anything else that would say it was a natural quake, but John is still adamant it’s origin is the sea floor, not a detonation or anything. The company still weren’t for talking to us either, even after we explained the… situation.

If they have anything to do with this, there’s a lot of blood on their hands right now, Penny. It’s really bothering me.

Will you please let me know-

Okay, let me know-

Can you-

I want to

What’s the

COMMS END

His fingers hesitated, drumming against his forearm as he considered how best to word it. There was no need to be as blunt as explaining exactly why he cared quite so deeply about this particular issue - she’d know, she already knew given her earlier message. Penelope was nothing if not perceptive in a way Gordon wished he could grasp, let alone put into practice as adroitly as she did.

Words, Gordo. Pick some.

He mulled his options over for a moment, before correcting himself. Reading his reply in consideration for a long moment before hitting send, then tossing the watch onto the counter. Balling his shorts and towel in the corner, planting himself firmly under the hot water of the shower, and attempting to ignore the rather unfamiliar twinge of nervousness in his stomach.

COMMS START

Need a date for it? I know a guy.

COMMS END

:COMMS BEGIN:

Lady P,

Sorry for the early morning comms, hope this doesn’t wake you too early - I make it just after 5 your time.

We’re just finishing up a mission in the Persian Gulf - a luxury hotel collapsed overnight, on an island just offshore Doha. Only built two years ago, whole place is pretty new and shiny.

Been a rough night, Pen - fifteen we were too late to help, including two kids. Just families on vacation...

Anyway, victims are saying they felt tremors, it certainly looks like a quake from the debris now the sun is up and J is absolutely confident it came from beneath the sea bed (absolutely being a rather irritated direct quote, so I’m not asking again).

But… this isn’t a quake hot zone. It doesn’t make any sense, and there haven’t been any aftershocks either while we’ve been working. Five can’t get a good read because of the debris and mineral interference underground. The whole place is on top of the enormous old oil fields, and it sends the scanners haywire.

The company that owns the hotel has set my squid sense off though. Name’s Fulcra, I’ve sent you the profile on them. Ran by a guy named Randall Price. He’s a venture capitalist from Houston originally, but the company’s HQ is a London address. That’s as far as I’ve managed to get.

They own a couple of the small artificial islands around here that are being used as tourist hotspots. Think luxury waterfront villas on stilts kinda stuff, the hotel that’s collapsed was the biggest. Nice place, high end, lots of good dive spots.

This area’s all under a World Heritage protected marine environment permit for a biosphere reserve. They’ve spent decades trying to replenish the mangroves and coastal vegetation after what the oil fields and production did to the waters here, the aquatic populations are only just starting to rise comfortably. I didn’t understand how they even got permission for this sort of work but…

They’ve got a giant platform further out in the Gulf that’s supposedly ‘cleaning the sea’ and helping to replenish the sea bed. Seems to be some sort of agreement that they can build these resorts, in exchange for what appears to be green work. I tried to get a proper look at the platform in Four, out of interest, but they’ve got laser nets up. I got an autoturret my way for trying to go any further in the exosuit…

I’d like to think they’re just really protecting that biosphere, but I don’t get a nice eco-friend impression.

My gut says I’m getting Hydrexler vibes, and you were right about that oily CEO last time. I’m not sure I want to be right, but I do want to know what’s going on here… and I thought you might too, as our resident top agent with a passion for all things Earth-saving.

So, I thought I’d hand it over to you, and let you do what you do best - cosying up to the billionaires and getting them to spill the tea.

Lemme know if you know or find anything on them. We’re going to be here another couple of hours, finishing up stabilising the debris field and having another run through, and then heading back. S managed to get the Price guy on comms briefly, but he wasn’t much for talking. Maybe you’ll have more luck.

G 🦑

:COMMS END:

FIRST DATE?

The flickering light and the soft buzz from her compact device caught her off-guard. Penelope, who had positioned herself in an armchair beside her tall windows after giving up on sleep half an hour earlier, sat herself up a little straighter. The blanket which she’d wrapped around herself was pulled tighter to her frame as her eyes read the message.

The hour might have been earlier and, on any other day, Penelope might very well have still been sleeping, but today was different. She rubbed her tired eyes as they scanned Gordon’s words. At first, she’d hoped it had been something akin to a social call. She rather enjoyed those, especially when they came from Gordon, but the more she read, the more Penelope realised it was anything but that.

Her interest peaked as she reached Gordon’s conspiracy.

Her mouth grew dry when she reached Gordon’s information.

The blanket was thrown off her body and Penelope stood. With her comms device still in hand, her eyes still darting from left to right as she continued her reading, she crossed her bedroom and gently tugged on the bell. 

Minutes passed before a very sleepy Parker knocked on her bedroom door. Penelope, having only just finished Gordon’s message, opened it.

“Terribly sorry to wake you, Parker, but it seems we have a situation. I need you to cancel my schedule for today and then get me all we have on the company known as Fulcra. CEO is a man named Randall Price.”

“But, m’lady, that’s—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, thank you, Parker. See if you can arrange a meeting of some kind, if that’s at all possible.”

Parker nodded, still more asleep than he was awake, before he trundled off down the hallway to make good of his ladyship’s requests.

Penelope returned to chair by the window and curled herself back up. The sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon as she typed out her reply.

COMMS BEGIN

@squidsinashirt, Thank you for your concern — I shall look into this and get back to you when I

Penelope ceased her typing and sighed. She knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, not after her sent her looking. A moment or two passed before Penelope deleted her previous sentence and began to re-type it. 

COMMS BEGIN

Gordon,

This company?

I shall look into this as you requested but, I must warn you, you may not like what I find. Randall Price is… let us say a man I am already familiar with, or rather his business is. What I can tell you is that, for the most part, Fulcra is celebrated as a rather clean company, but that doesn’t always mean much — you were right to mention Hydrexler. The Persian Gulf was supposed to remain a protected marine environment, at least that was how I understood it. I’ll ask some of my World Heritage connections what they know too, see if I can get a bigger picture for you.

Give me a couple of days. I’ll try and, what was it you said? Cosy up to the billionaire? Get him to spill the tea? Parker is going to try and get me an appointment but, if that fails, I do have an alternative plan.

Do try and get some rest once you’ve finished up. The mission in Doha sounds like it’s been a terribly distressing situation for all involved. You know I am always here if you need to talk about it. Any of it.

I’ll be in touch once I hear something.

Stay safe, 

Penny x

COMMS END

-------------------------------------

Once upon a time, names held weight. Penelope had thought that Scott’s name had simply been too tied up with International Rescue for Randall Price to give him the time of day… until she too was ushered away once the more difficult questions were asked. From her other sources, Penelope had heard only rave reviews of the company. Yet something felt… off.

It was just after dinner when Penelope began her second message to Gordon.

COMMS BEGIN

It's too clean. Not sure what’s going on but I definitely sense something. Plan B is in operation. Randall Price might not have wanted to speak to me today, but he did invite me to his Charity Ball this weekend — I’ll see if I can find out more then.

I’m hoping you returned home safe and sound and that you managed to have a good rest. I suppose it’s my turn to apologise if this message wakes you. 

Penny x

COMMS END