a “Captain
Scarlet and the Mysterons” story
by Shades
It looked like mercury as it rolled and shifted above
his head, scattering the light into ever-changing puddles of brightness and
shadow.
It couldn’t have been more than a meter away, but, lungs
burning and weighed down by his lifeless burden, the border between water and
air could have been as far away as the moon.
“No!” Adam Svenson, or Captain Blue as he was
known here, savagely quashed the thought and churned the water with his legs, punching
through the surface and filling his lungs with humid air. A few more strokes
got him to the water’s edge and with one last heave he forced Paul’s upper
torso out of the water and onto the tiled edge of Cloudbase's pool, the other
man's arm making a wet smack as it hit the textured ceramics.
“Ow!”
The exclamation was somewhat muffled by the air
regulator clamped between the British officer’s teeth, which was promptly spat
out as he sat up and reached to help his exhausted American counterpart out of
the pool. “I may be indestructible, but I still bruise, Adam. No need to throw
me around like that,” he teased, proffering his hand.
Adam took it and was hauled out. “You may be
indestructible, Scarlet, but you weigh a tonne!” the American teased back,
grinning.
“Maybe you should cut back on those chocolates the
Angels keep smuggling up here Paul,” Captain Ochre, Richard, or Rick to his
friends, suggested from his bench beside the pool, his ‘picture of innocence’
tone completely ruined by the broad smile splitting his face.
“What, so you can have them all?” That was Magenta, or
Patrick, his trademark impish grin barely hidden. “That’s hardly fair, Rick.”
“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Grey, Bradley, cut
in before the banter could get carried away. He knew how highly his fellow
colour captains coveted the chocolates the female fighter pilots somehow
managed to sneak onto the base. “Okay, that was a good demo of underwater
rescues, you two.” The comment was directed at Blue and Scarlet.
“Thanks, Brad,” Paul answered for them both, setting
down the small harness and scuba air tank he had used as the 'victim'. “Do you
think we’ll be ready for the skills assessment tomorrow?”
“We should be.” Richard spoke up, rubbing his ochre-bordered
towel over his hair. “After all, the Old Man asked Brad and Adam to make sure
the rest of us non-water people would pass,” he added.
“Indeed.” Scarlet nodded his agreement and shrugged
out of the water-logged clothes he’d worn over his Spectrum-issue trunks.
“Colonel White should be pleased. It was a most satisfactory lesson from our
two resident fish.”
It was a fatal comment to make in the presence of
Ochre and Magenta.
“Fish, hm?” Pat asked, Irish eyes twinkling as he
looked over at his partner. “What do you think, Rick, guppies or minnows?”
The former police officer scrutinised Adam and Brad
with a mock thoughtful look. “Nah, Brad’s a shark, but Adam’d be a goldfish.
He’s got the right colouring for it.” He smirked, indicating his fellow colour
captain’s thatch of blonde hair.
That earned him a few chuckles.
However, Paul was the only one who noticed as his
partner scooped up a damp towel and swiftly twisted it into a tight rope. Paul
wisely smothered a grin and reached for another towel. This could only end one
way.
“Goldfish, eh?” Adam rather mildly asked. “You sure
about that, Rick?”
“Yep,” Magenta interrupted, grinning at him. “It suits
you, Goldie.”
“That’s odd, Pat, because last time I checked,
goldfish didn’t bite!” Adam punctuated the last word with a sharp flick of his
wrist, making the damp towel crack the air like a bull whip.
“Yeow!” Pat jumped backwards with a startled yelp,
rubbing at the red welt already rising on his thigh. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for
that one, Goldie!”
“Wanna bet?” Adam grinned back, already re-coiling his
towel for another attack.
He didn't see Ochre coil up his towel and dart into
range, but Scarlet did.
“No, you don't!” Paul lashed out with the damp towel
in his friend's defence and caught the former World Police Commander with a
wicked flick, only to let out a yelp of his own when Grey snuck up and repaid
the favour.
“You're all going down.” Brad grinned widely at the
four other captains as he twisted his towel again. “No one can beat a Navy
man at this.”
The veracity of that statement was immediately
challenged when Adam snuck up and snapped him across the back of the legs.
“Wanna say that again?” Blue challenged, eyeing the others carefully.
Needless to say, it very quickly descended into an
all-out war. Towels whizzed and cracked against skin and (very rarely) air,
benches became forts and someone's swim bag was about to become a projectile
when...
“Ahem.”
Everyone stopped and sloooowly looked in the direction
of the voice.
Colonel White, clad in black Spectrum-issue trunks with a white stripe down the side and a towel hanging over his shoulder, stood on the wet tiles with crossed arms and one raised eyebrow as he surveyed his five most senior officers, the coiled towels in their hands and the multitude of red welts decorating their legs.
The silence was
ominous.
“Gentlemen,”
Colonel White began after a moment's pause, “if you’re going to torment each
other, at least do it properly. A towel that’s been soaked and wrung out works
far better than a damp one.” He surveyed his officers again, the barest hint of
a smile lurking about the corners of his lips. “As you were.”
Fin
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