Thanks for the new reviewers, Rosa and Smolder! Welcome! Thanks Jimmy and Pete!

Yes onwards. ;) Lets see how they get out of this! Ready for a monster chapter?

**PING**

Update. I did promise a monster chapter after all... Just because GTC asked.

Artie opened his eyes; he hadn't realized that he closed them. Myka wasn't to be seen. He reached over and found the pieces to his belt buckle. Fitting them all together he reassembled the buckle with a snap. The noise only registered about a 7 on Artie's newly formed pain scale.

He noticed a shift in the dim lighting in the container. He raised his heavy head to see the only source of lighting from the far corner be blocked off by something. Artie didn't know how much time had passed, but he knew it was probably far too long. He needed to get up.

He pushed himself off the wall and sat up on his own. The sound of his clothes rubbing against the metal container was greatly reduced from before. Encouraged, the old agent rolled onto his side and put his hands on the metal wall for support. His head was dizzy, but the pain was tolerable. Even his breath echoing inside his head was of a manageable noise level.

Using the wall for support, Artie struggled to his feet. His head spun madly when he stood. He had no reference to level inside his dimly lit uni-colored prison, so he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool wall. He fought down a wave of nausea that rose from the pain, concentrating on breathing and staying upright. Where is Myka?

He was startled by someone running into him. Myka scared herself, expecting to find Artie on the floor and not standing up. She laid a hand on his shoulder stopping her forward momentum into him, excited to see her boss standing. He was leaning heavily on the wall, but still, upright. She saw him push himself to arms length from the wall and sway dangerously. She grabbed his shoulders and turned him so his back was against the wall. She gave him time to recover and held him up by pinning him between her and the metal wall.

.

Myka saw Artie grimace in pain. That close it was like she shared what he was experiencing. She seemed to take some of the pain from him and he took strength from her. He put the heel of his hand to his temple as if he was trying to hold his brain in. He held his breath and she felt him tremble for a few seconds before he caught it again. She didn't know what else to do to help him, so she just stood there holding him up.

Myka knew that he should lie down, but the effort for him to get back to this position again would be too much. She had rarely been in a situation as grim as they were in at that point. Her attempts at opening up the air vent were obviously futile. The container was made of thick metal and the vent was only six inches wide and a foot long. She had stuck her arm through it, but there was nothing within reach on the outside. Two-inch thick steel surrounded the vent and ended her efforts.

She needed Artie's brain, but more than that, Artie was in this position because of her. He didn't have to expose himself but he did to protect her and now, he was suffering for it. He should be dead. she thought. He could have let me take the blast, but he didn't. Artie did this to protect me. She took a hard hit from those goons when they came for him, but she knew that she would do it again, even as her eye continued to swell. Artie proved that he was there for her; there was no way that she wasn't going to protect him when he needed it. If they had issues before, as far as she was concerned, he had more than made up for it. She was going to do whatever it took to get them out of there.

Myka's musings were interrupted when her boss eked out a weak "myka…"

She was surprised to hear him talk. It was the first word that he said since getting blasted. She hadn't spoken for fear of causing him more pain, but she thought that perhaps he had recovered enough to talk. She chanced a whisper: "Artie?" She bent down to try to catch his gaze through his half-open eyes.

.

Artie's own voice echoed in his head three times before fading. Her response was slightly less paining. His ears were still on fire but now a new pain was forming. Artie inwardly cringed at the thought of removing the earplugs that he still had in, but the growing pain of his ears threatened to eclipse even that of his head. With Myka holding him up, he figured that there would be no better time to remove them. He took a couple of heavy breaths in anticipation of the pain, and raised his right hand to his ear.

The graying agent grasped the earplug with his finger tips and pulled. The noise from the plug being removed was nearly crippling. His slightly swollen ear screamed in protest of the friction. A whimper of pain escaped him and he bent over, breaking free of her grip. Myka caught him and carefully set him against the wall again, not completely sure what just happened. Artie reached for his other ear before he could change his mind. The pain was repeated. Even though Myka had tightened her grip, Artie's knee gave out. She prevented him from falling to the floor completely, catching him against the wall half way down. Her boss closed his eyes while he caught his breath.

When his vision cleared, Artie felt his ears for blood. He thought that there was no way that there could be that much pain without bleeding, so he was surprised when his fingers came back dry. He raised his gaze to see Myka watching him intently with a question on her face. In response, he held out his hand. She looked at it to see the ear plugs. Suddenly her face cleared into a small smile. "That's how you did it!" she whispered in clear admiration. He flicked the side of his mouth upwards in response.

The agents struggled to their feet. Artie swallowed and tried talking again. He needed information. Badly. He fell back on old routine. "…fi... me in." He was pleased that his voice bounced only around the container and not in his head with the plugs removed.

Myka looked at him as if she were evaluating whether he could handle a briefing. She decided to keep it as brief as humanly possible. "We're in a truck container. Door's locked. There's a vent, but it's too small to do any good."

Artie nodded. So that was where the dim light was coming from and why it was blocked. Myka was working on it. "sh-show me."

The younger agent put her arm under Artie's and across his back. He pushed off the wall and leaned on her as they both made their way to the far corner.

"I opened it up enough to get my arm outside but there's nothing within reach." Myka sat her boss on the crate and jumped on top of it to demonstrate.

Artie bent his neck back to see the vent and was rewarded with a wave of dizziness. He caught the spinning wall and closed his eyes to counter it. "What do you see?" he asked his agent.

"Nothing. There's another container right up against this one." She craned her neck and put her eye as close as she could to the side wall to look up. "The next row goes up at least one more container higher."

"Is there a container on top of this one?" Artie whispered as loudly as he dared.

"Um.." Myka twisted her neck again trying for a different angle. "I can't…. wait! No. There's not. I can see a reflection. There's nothing on top of us." Myka smiled her thanks at the shiny metal logo on the neighboring container.

At least there's that, he thought. "Ok. Get down." Myka obeyed her boss. "Have you tried the center hatch?" Myka stared at him blankly. Obviously she hasn't. "There's usually a safety hatch on shipping containers like this. At the top. Middle." He had to catch his breath again after talking so much.

Myka padded to where she guessed was the center of the shipping container. She looked up. In the dim light she couldn't make out anything at all. She forgave herself just a tiny bit for missing a hatch in her initial evaluation of their prison. She returned to Artie shaking her head. "Nothing." He nodded in understanding and patted the box he was sitting on. She raised an eyebrow. Definitely worth a try.

Artie stood against the wall and cringed as Myka slid the box to the center of the container. She looked up to checked on him when the box was in position, but he waved her on with the hand that wasn't holding his head. The agent jumped on top of the box. If a hatch was there, she was going to find it. She peered straight up into darkness. Myka reached her hand up in case something was there that she couldn't see. She waved and felt just air. She squinted, willing herself to see something. Is that something? She wondered. She did see a spot. It was darker than the surrounding area, like a depression. Myka reached up again. She went on her tip toes and stretched as high as she could. Still nothing. But she swore that she could see something now. What, she wasn't sure.

Myka climbed down from the box and went to Artie. "There might be something. I can't tell."

"It's a hatch." He said surprisingly certain, cringing at his own voice. "You can't reach it?" She shook her head. "Ok, let's tilt the crate." He breathed. "That'll give you another few inches."

The old agent pushed himself off of the wall and crossed the few steps to the box. He leaned heavily on it. Myka stuck close to him in case he needed her. The grey head tilted, motioning her to climb on top of the box. She jumped up and used her toes to feel for the edge. "Ready?" he said looking up at her.

"Go," she responded. Artie grabbed the edge of the box and hauled it up, tilting it on its edge. He held the crate there. Myka agilely moved with the rotating box. She balanced on the top edge with both of her bare feet. She maintained her balance then carefully reached straight up with one hand. She swung her hand around, but felt just the void of space. Frustrated, she looked up. She could just make out a line that looked closer to her than the darker space behind it. She started to lose her balance and had to use her heel to push her weight on the side of the box, forcing it down. It slipped Artie's grasp and landed with a thud that reverberated around the metal container. Artie grabbed his ears and moaned in agony. He fell onto the box dealing with the splitting pain and nausea. Myka bent down to her boss writhing at her feet. She put her hand on his back and felt him trembling.

"Artie?" She rubbed his back, trying to stimulate his lungs in her own feeble way. "Breathe Artie." She encouraged. "C'mon…breathe." Myka hated feeling so helpless. After long seconds of just trying to keep her boss with her, she finally felt him suck in a shaky breath. The young agent racked her brain. She certainly didn't have much to work with. If that was a hatch, then she simply had to reach it. She reviewed all that was available to her: the box, less than half a boss… then suddenly she had an idea. She reached into her pocket and drew out the handcuffs.

Artie managed to force breath into his lungs again. He slowly propped himself up on his elbows and held his head. He was pretty sure that giving into the nausea would nearly finish him off. The pain receded to a sickening thud. He heard a jingle of metal. Looking up, he saw Myka holding the handcuffs. She said "I think I saw a handle."

The older agent caught on to her idea. "You think you can snag it?" he whispered and cringed. His own voice made his eyes cross and spun the room until he stopped it by holding his head again.

Myka nodded. "I can try." She looked at him with concern. "Are you up for it?"

Artie knew that he had to be. He nodded. After a few more breaths he pushed himself up. The sooner they did this, the sooner this whole nightmare could be over. They couldn't afford to wait for anyone to find out what the banging was about. He gripped the edge of the box again and looked up with weary eyes. "Ready?"

Myka held her handcuffs open so that they could close over the handle. She gripped the edge of the box with her foot and looked to where she thought that the handle was. "Ready."

The boss hauled the box on edge again. Myka rode it up and swung her hand into space. The extra few inches that the handcuffs gave here were enough to make contact with the handle. The handle hit the cuffs dead center. The open part of the cuffs swung over the handle and locked around it with a clang.

Artie flinched at the noise. With an effort he let the box down without dropping it. Knowing that Myka had snagged the handle, he gave into the pain. The old agent crumpled and slid down the box. He sat against the box and buried his head in his hands, gripping his grey curls between his fingers.

Myka softly landed beside him. She gripped his shoulder in concern. "Artie?"

He grabbed her arm and pushed her away. "hatch." He whispered. Myka's face turned determined as she looked up. She stood but he pulled her back down. She looked at him with a question forming on her lips.

Artie opened his eyes. His sensitive ears heard what she couldn't. "Footsteps."

Myka's eyes widened. They had run out of time. She threw her weight forward and shoved the box to the far side wall. She grabbed Artie before he fell backwards and dragged him to the opposite side wall as they heard the key in the lock. Myka leaned her boss against the wall just as the door was being opened. She turned to face the mobsters again standing between them and Artie.

Myka evaluated the mobsters entering the container prison. She thought that she could take out the first two, but the third that hung by the door would be a problem. If he was armed, he would probably kill them both just for resisting.

The first goon who approached was the one that Myka had let hit her earlier when they had come for Artie. She thought that it would appease them if she let him hit her and she was right. They left right afterwards. But now was different. They wanted Artie for some reason. Her logic told her that she wouldn't be able to stop them, but she stood in between them anyway.

"Get up." The first thick man ordered.

Artie raised his heavy head from where Myka had deposited him. He tried to get up, but his energy was spent. He fell back against the side wall in exhaustion. The second goon moved towards Artie but Myka stepped in front of him. "Let him be."

"Move!" The man ordered.

"No." Myka stared the man down. The man by the door unfastened his safety strap from his gun. So he is armed. She thought without removing her eyes from the man threatening Artie.

The man was unnerved by this thin woman showing so much presence in the face of insurmountable odds. He over reacted and shoved Myka much harder than necessary. She flew to the opposite side wall. The body guard by the door watched with his hand on his gun.

Artie watched the struggle from the floor of the container. He tried to tell Myka to stop resisting. He knew that three armed men were no match even for her, but he lost his voice to the thudding in his head. He tried to get up again, but he had no energy left after dealing with the box and being thrown at the wall.

The first big man who entered descended on him. The goon grabbed fistfuls of Artie's clothes and painfully wrenched him up. Artie got his feet under him for a second then the container spun and his legs wouldn't cooperate. The two men grabbed under his arms and roughly jerked him forward. The old agent's knees went out completely forcing the men to hold his full weight. The first big man cursed and backhandedly slapped Artie to get him to his feet.

Myka heard the slap and Artie choke in pain. Her blood instantly boiled. Gun or no gun, she didn't care.

The agent launched forward and caught the first man by surprise in the darkness with a full-force elbow to the teeth. He stumbled backwards and she caught her boss as the goon dropped him. The second man reached over Artie and shoved Myka back but not before Artie put something soft into her palm. The first big man spat out blood and descended on Myka. He used his superior size and shoved her back against the side wall. He threw a wide punch at her, but her eyes were better adjusted to the darkness and she was done letting him punch her. She moved her head to the side allowing his fist to crash into the metal wall just behind her. He let out a short scream. The goon jammed his other elbow against her throat pinning her against the wall. She struggled, her airway being squeezed painfully. The man by the door gave the order twice before the man released Myka. She collapsed onto the floor coughing and grabbing at her throat as they closed the door and left her in the darkness. She opened her hand and saw what Artie had given her- his earplugs.