Hi. It's me again. Another fic. Seriously, they're tumbling out like verbal word vomit. I forsee this being 3-4 chapters, hope you like it :-) Rated T for language and adult themes.

Denouement

deɪˈnuːmɒ̃/

noun

1 the final part of a play, film, or narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved.

2. the outcome of a situation, when something is decided or made clear.

Chapter One

Linka flung herself into the overstuffed wardrobe in the nick of time; pulling the door inwards until a gap the size of her fingertip was evident. Dainty hands braced themselves against the narrow walls and she bit her lip, watching on as Looten Plunder strode into the office with his small army of staff. His face was flushed and he wore the expression of a man who was majorly pissed off.

No doubt because of us…

She flinched as Plunder started barking orders left, right and centre; flailing his arms around and looking alarmingly unhinged.

"Those little bastards are NOT screwing this up for me," he roared. Plunder slammed his fists on the desk, causing the desktop computer to come out of sleep mode. Linka held her breath, watching on through the crack and knowing that the files she'd been in the middle of downloading would now be visible. The monitor was angled down towards the cluttered surface and she hoped he was too preoccupied to notice.

"You reckon it's them?" A new voice joined the fray, guttural and with snorting undertones. Linka couldn't see from her hiding spot but knew beyond a doubt that Hoggish Greedly had joined them.

"Of course it's them," Plunder seethed, glaring in Greedly's direction. "There's a mud pit where my car used to be."

"What do you want us to do?"

Plunder laid his palms flat against the table; his brow creasing as he noticed the state of his computer for the first time. He tilted his head, glancing around suspiciously before answering.

"Bleak thought he saw Blondie and the monkey-man near the containment area. Head there first, get Rigger to bury the rest of the evidence."

A burly brick of a man stepped backwards, nudging the wardrobe door with his hip and Linka pressed herself further against the office supplies and reams of paper, suddenly sure they would hear her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She controlled her breathing, silently willing herself to remain calm. Clenching her ring finger, she remained ready to make a move if she needed too.

Plunder scowled, still rubbing his chin before turning and striding from the room; his motley gang of goons falling in line behind him. He nodded towards a figure languishing beside the door and jacked his thumb towards the computer. "Find those files. Whatever it takes."

The room fell silent once again and Linka exhaled with relief. She steadied herself against the shelves and waited for a few minutes, wanting to be certain that the area was clear. Stepping out quietly, she made it as far as the corner of Plunder's desk before a deep voice punctuated the atmosphere.

"Gotcha!"

Linka jumped and turned; raising her ring in fright but a sharp, blinding pain impacted upon her temple. Her head whipped to the right and she collapsed to her knees, stunned by the blow.

The last thing she remembered was her ring being reefed from her index finger and Argos Bleak's grinning face leering down at her before she felt another strike, this time hitting her forehead front and centre.

She slumped to the ground, unconscious as Bleak hefted the girl over his shoulder and lumbered towards the dump-zone.

It was time to tie up loose ends.

Linka was eventually awoken by a loud clanging noise.

She squeezed her eyes shut, groaning softly against what appeared to be a rag stuffed inside her mouth and held intact by gaffer tape. The scent and taste of petrol on the rag was overpowering and she silently willed herself not to retch; wanting to avoid choking on her own vomit.

She shifted slightly, leaning forward on her knees and felt resistance. Tilting her head back, she soon realised why. Her wrists were cuffed above her head and shackled to a hook, with the chains wrapping several times around a load-bearing pylon.

The room was cavernous. She squinted in the limited light, aware that she was being held somewhere underground. The blonde regarded her surroundings with mounting fear.

Bozhe moy… this is what we were looking for.

Resembling a crudely dug-out underground bunker, the area was roughly the size of a large house. Dozens of oil drums and canisters littered the area, many of which had corroded and were currently seeping clear, black and yellow ooze into the ground.

Puddles of liquid covered the ground, including the puddle that Linka was currently kneeling in.

Ugh. Gadost'.

Another clanging sound caused Linka to jump. Her movement was restricted but she turned her head and watched on warily as Rigger entered the cavern through a circular entrance. She glared at him and he gave a smirk in her direction, pushing a red trolley with another oil drum balanced precariously on top.

He halted towards the middle of the space and offloaded his cargo, before dusting off his hands on his trousers and heading back towards the doorway.

She eyed the masses of rusted containers with dread, aware that they contained industrial waste, fuel and other toxic chemicals that local companies had paid Plunder to dispose of. The Planeteers had been tracking this operation for months but had struggled to locate where he was storing the chemicals. Above ground, everything looked legitimate.

Oh well. I have found it after all, she thought with annoyance.

More noises snapped her back to attention. She blinked as she heard two distinct voices echoing around the cavern. Linka pressed back against the pylon, staring at the entrance as the voices rose in volume.

"…only following orders," Rigger said, pleading with whoever was approaching. "Yep, yep. No one's getting hurt."

"Tell that to the village downstream, idiot. This shit's seeping into the bore water."

Wheeler.

"We have government permission. You know this is legal in thirty-seven states?."

She heard Wheeler snort with derision. He added, almost casually, "You know inbreeding is probably illegal in thirty-seven states too, Rigger?"

"Huh?"

"I dunno," she heard Wheeler reply airily. "Just thought it was relevant information for ya."

"Hey! You can't talk to me that…""

Linka heard the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh, followed by a loud thump as she watched Rigger's body hit the ground.

"Boring conversation anyway," Wheeler muttered, stepping over Greedly's prone assistant and coming into view. The red-head sauntered through the doorway, rapping his knuckles on the steel door as he passed before finally locking eyes on Linka. "Hiya cutie!"

"Mmph."

"Sorry babe, didn't catch that," he replied smartly. He raised his hands in the air, manoeuvring his way around the canisters with a spring in his step. "Do you ever not get captured? Kwame and I have started taking bets on ya'."

"Mmph!"

Wheeler smirked as he reached the Russian, nudging her knee gently with his foot. "You really gotta' start articulating better."

She glared at him, watching on as the American dropped down to his knees beside her. He reached forward and started peeling away the tape from her jaw with gentle fingers, glancing back every now and then at Rigger who was lying where he'd landed: sprawled just outside the entrance.

Wheeler removed the last of the tape and pulled out the oily rag, watching on with concern as Linka leaned as far forward as the chains allowed. Her body shook as a violent coughing fit overwhelmed her.

Wheeler sat patiently, gripping her shoulder to steady her. "You all right?"

Linka nodded, her throat burning as she wiped her face on the inside of her raised arm. She winced as her eyes begun to sting, noticing for the first time the oily sheen that was present on her skin and clothes.

"Just get me out of here, Yankee," she said, her voice husky from the fumes. Her patience was wearing thin. She was sore, soaked through and the toxic materials were making her light-headed and sick. "We need to find the others."

"What the hell did they do to you? You're covered in this shit," he remarked, running his fingers through her tresses and studying the substance coating his fingertips. "Musta' dragged you in here."

"Now, Yankee." It was a demand rather than a request. She had reached her limit. Wheeler sighed; rising to his feet and raising his ring. Linka closed her eyes and looked away, protecting her face from the sparks that would soon start cascading downwards.

But he hesitated; standing and staring as he lowered his fist. Reaching forward, he ran his finger down her arm instead, and sniffed the oily substance coating her hair and skin.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, annoyed that he hadn't started burning through her restraints. "I swear to God, Yankee, I am going to…"

"This smell like fuel to you?" He looked down at her worriedly.

Linka's heart sank as her jaw hung open with disappointment. In all honesty, the thought had never even occurred to her.

Bozhe moy. Just great. I am flammable.

She watched him crouch back down beside her. "Der'mo. All right. Maybe find something you can break the chain with? I am feeling a little boozy here."

"Woozy," Wheeler corrected, patting her shoulder reassuringly and pushing himself back off the ground again. He jogged back to the passageway outside. The sounds of metallic rustling filled the air, presumably a tool box being rifled through. "Boozy means somethin' else entirely."

"Oh," she replied. "I am woozy, then. Have you found anything?"

"Got something!"

She watched him re-enter the cavern with a small hacksaw in hand, darting gracefully around the canisters and puddles. "Okay. I'm gonna have to go slow, no sparks. Can't have you lightin' up like a Fourth of July cracker night."

"That is reassuring," Linka muttered. She was tired now. Her knees were aching and she was cold and soaked through. Wheeler's body pressed close as he leaned over her, attempting to saw through the chains. She rested her cheek against the side of his chest, thankful to be breathing in the much more pleasant scent of his clothes and skin.

She frowned though as she peered around his jacket and noticed a figure missing. "Ah, Wheeler? Rigger has gone," she mumbled against his shirt and Wheeler turned, the hacksaw stalling in mid air.

"Huh? Where'd that little sneak…"

A deafening blast interrupted him. Both Planeteer's visibly jumped at the noise as an alarm sounded, accompanied by a flashing red light located above the doorway.

Wheeler tossed the hacksaw aside, a panicked look crossing his features. "Shit. That can't be good," he muttered. "Hold still for a sec, babe."

The chains above her head jostled loudly and she winced as he tried to pull her free from the chains. She cried out as agony flared through her wrists, as he attempted to squeeze them through the restraints. "Wheeler, stop! They are not coming off!"

The American swore under his breath, still holding onto her chained wrists. "Friggin' Bleak and his hand-cuffs. Bastard doesn't skimp on quality."

She raised frightened eyes towards the entrance as the metal door suddenly creaked to life, adding to the cacophony of alarms, beeps and flashing lights. The hinges were obviously on an automatic time delay and the door was now slowly closing… which would effectively seal them in.

"Get out of here, Yankee," she cried as he released her and jumped to his feet, running a hand through his hair as he contemplated his next move. Linka shook her head imploringly. "There is no sense in both of us getting st…."

"I'm not leaving you," he said, quietly but firmly. "Hang on, I've got an idea."

The American's face was tense as he high-tailed it towards the entrance, vaulting over several obstructions and skidding to a stop. He dragged several oil drums over and positioned them roughly in place, intent on wedging the objects inside the opening.

Stepping back, he raisied his ring to his temple. "Ma-Ti, if you can hear me - we're in trouble, little buddy. We're under the water towers and we're …"

He broke off abruptly as the door made contact with the metal. Wheeler's shoulders slumped in defeat as the drums were crushed with little resistance. The door shut with a resounding echo and Wheeler knew they were now locked inside. Linka was without her ring, and any use of his own power would probably blast them all into oblivion, courtesy of the heavy fumes.

The flashing lights and alarms ceased all at once and the area descended into darkness. An eerie silence descended upon them, save for the rhythmic dripping of chemicals onto the ground.

"Any ideas? I got nothin'."

"Can you see a control panel?"

"Babe, I can't see anything..."

He ran his hands blindly over the surface of the door and walls but found nothing useful.

"Wheeler?" The red-head turned, searching for her voice. She sounded slightly hysterical. "Wheeler, what is that? Can you see it flashing?"

A green light blinked towards the back of the cavern. Unable to see properly, the Fire Planeteer gingerly made his way towards it, side stepping as best he could to avoid tipping anything over. He reached the source and froze.

A box with small green numbers came into view, attached to the top of a drum with wires and cables snaking into the barrel. A faint light emitted from the box and his heart skipped a beat.

37:34

37:33

37:32

"Yankee? What is it?"

Shit.

"It's a timer," he replied, being deliberately vague as he raised his wrist and pinned the countdown into his own watch, assisted by the faint glow given off by the blinking numbers on the panel.

Giving the device a cursory look, he knew he had no hope of diffusing it: especially if Argos Bleak had prepared it.

"A timer? A timer for what?" For the first time that he could remember, she sounded scared. He had a suspicion she had already guessed what the little surprise was that Plunder had left down there with them. "Please tell me it is not…"

Wheeler sighed, before turning and making his way back to his team mate. The chains were rustling and the American knew she was still frantically trying in vain to free herself.

Starting to acclimatise to the darkness, he reached the Russian and crouched down beside her.

"Well," he said quietly, taking a seat beside her. "It ain't a thirty-five minute egg timer."

"It is a bomb?"

"Yeah."

A small sound escaped her lips. Wheeler heard the chains rattling once again against the pillar; her breathing heavy and ragged as she continued struggling against her bonds. He placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently before raising his ring and attempting again to make contact with Ma-Ti.