(Because Memes make me write horribleangstdrama drabbles apparently??? :x Based from this horrible thing we rp'd cause. IDK. RNG hated Virgil I guess. And I wanted to write him sassing the Hood in the face.)
What the hell hit him? Was the first thought that came to mind as Virgil found consciousness.
He hadn't expected to be knocked out right in front of his own ship. He'd tried to hit his remote controller to pull the pod back in... Had it worked? He pried his eyes open, adjusting fairly quickly to the dark light of the room he was in.
Well, no way of knowing now how Thunderbird 2 was from in a place like this. It seemed like he was in some sort of warehouse or something and this seemed like an office type room, or well, was once. It seemed pretty empty and abandoned now. He'd been left in a chair, and he quickly realized his arms were pulled around the back of it, held with some rope.
Well, that sure didn't bode well, did it?
Virgil did only thing he really could do at the moment--try to get free. The rope didn't seem very well tied, so he started straining against the binds, trying to get enough slack to slip a wrist out. He went still though when he heard scuffing outside the door. He had a bad feeling about this and that bad feeling walked in through the door.
This was the first time Virgil had ever had the honour of seeing the Hood in person. He wasn't very impressed and the Hood didn't seem very impressed either. He looked darn right annoyed, in fact.
"Well, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you, Virgil Tracy," the Hood pretty much sneered, as he approached the chair where Virgil sat.
"Can't say it's mutual," Virgil replied, fixing the Hood with a sharp glare.
"It seems you've decided to make this all a lot more difficult," the Hood continued, slowly walking around the chair, arms folded behind him. Boy did he just reek criminal mastermind. "We could have saved so much more time if you hadn't sealed your Thunderbird."
Virgil shrugged. "Oops?" he offered, internally cheering that he had managed to do what he'd hoped.
"I was going to have a nice chat with Scott, but I thought I'd talk to you first."
Shit, did that mean he had Scott too? What about Gordon? And if he did, where were they? He couldn't hide the worry that flickered over his expression.
"So what do you want, then?" Virgil questioned, figuring might as well find out what this was all about and also hopefully distract him longer so he could finish getting his wrist free.
"I want the location of Tracy Island and you or one of your brothers are going to take me there."
Virgil couldn't help but let out a snort. "Like hell."
"Somehow I thought you would say something like that," the Hood responded, turning away. "If you won't, I'm sure one of your brothers can be convinced."
With the Hood's back turned, Virgil finally managed to pull his wrist free. Now seemed like not a bad time to try this, since the Hood was in here alone. Jumping to his feet, he rushed forward. As he did so the Hood sensed something coming behind and turned, just in time to meet Virgil's fist.
Ouch. Virgil didn't often go throwing punches, but he knew how and with his thick gloves on, he was pretty sure it had smarted for the Hood way more than him. The Hood crumpled over in pain, Virgil threw himself out the door. Now he just had to figure out where Scott and Gordon were, as long as he wasn't bluffing anyways, then the three of them could get the hell outta here.
There was one problem with his plan; rounding the corner he came face to face with five of the Hood's gang.
He tried to dodge past them, but he was quickly tackled to the cement floor, a scraping blow to the side head in the process. With the breath knocked outta him, he didn't have any power to fight as they pulled him back up, grips digging into his arms.
Well, that sure didn't go as he'd hoped.
"Well, Virgil, it seems you really do want my attention. Ask and you shall receive!" came the Hood's voice, now a bit nasal, a handkerchief pressed over his nose. "Take him back in there and this time make sure he can't escape!"
He was hauled back into the room and dumped back into the chair. Ropes cinched uncomfortably tightly around his chest and his arms, binding them down to each of the chair arms. Yeah, he wouldn't be able to pull that trick twice and now he felt something wet making it's way down from his head. Blood? Great. Even better.