They have exactly four minutes left.

Kwame isn't counting the seconds down, not exactly. Not yet, anyway. But he's conscious of the time, of the precious minutes slipping through their fingers.

'It's locked,' Gi announces, returning to the room in which they stand.

'All the doors are,' Wheeler adds, 'there's no way out. Fuckin' Plunder.'

His voice is tight, a little alarmed, but Kwame swallows down his brief flare of panic. He knows that now is not the time to lose control. They're a mile and a half below ground, after all, in the control room of a mine. Plunder has rigged the place with explosives, hoping to collapse the mine, and in the ensuing damage, destroy the rich green belt land surrounding it. Kwame knows Plunder's game; he understands his plan without being told. He's seen it happen before, countless times, in his homeland. Destroy the land, make it worthless, buy it cheap and then sell it rich. Take the profits for yourself, while still being lauded a hero for regeneration.

It makes him feel angry and helpless and hopeless all at once.

But they still have a chance.

Four minutes.

'We just need to stop the detonation,' Kwame muses out loud, thinking things through, but he sees Wheeler roll his eyes.

'Well fuck, why didn't I think of that?' The American spits, and Kwame turns away from him.

They've only been a team for three weeks. They hardly know one another, strangers still, thrown together under the most bizarre of circumstances. He plays with the ring on his finger, feeling it's power bubble under the surface of his skin. The power of Earth... even now, he can hardly believe it.

'Wheeler-' Ma-Ti begins, in his partially broken voice, but the American isn't looking at him. He's staring at the Russian girl again, his eyes dark and annoyed.

'You with us, Blondie?' he snaps, but she doesn't turn, or even hear him, perhaps.

She's staring at a panel in the wall, running her hands along the seams, a look of concentration on her face.

'Linka, earth to Linka, you here? This is kinda important, you know. Or are you feelin' too high and mighty again to join us in stoppin' -'

'Shut your net, Yankee,' she interrupts calmly. 'I am thinking.'

Wheeler stares at her, and Gi leans towards Kwame.

'Do you think she meant, 'shut your trap'?' she asks, and Kwame nods.

But he can't take her eyes from Linka, watching as she runs her hand down from the panel to the ground. She's on her knees now, scrabbling in the dirt, and Ma-Ti sinks to his haunches beside her, using the glow of his ring to light her way.

'What the fuck is she doin'?' Wheeler asks them, but Kwame shrugs.

'I do not know.'

'I don't understand her,' Wheeler mutters. 'Don't understand why she's here...'

Kwame feels the same, though he'd never admit it. In the past three weeks, he's come to understand a little about his new colleagues, come to see their value to their new team. But Linka... Linka is a tough nut to crack, Kwame decides. She's quiet and intense, preferring her own company to theirs, leaving the common room immediately after dinner to hide herself away with her music and books. On the three missions they've undertaken so far, she's managed to get captured twice, requiring a serious amount of help from the others. Kwame doesn't know much about odds, but he suspects Linka's aren't too good. She seems woefully out of her depth, even more so than Ma-Ti, who is three years younger.

'Linka,' Kwame speaks, trying to rouse her from her task. 'Linka, what are you doing?'

'She is working,' Ma-Ti replies softly. 'She thinks she can help.'

'Helpin'? She's never any help,' Wheeler says lowly. Kwame turns to him, wanting to remind him that now is not the time to feud with the Russian, but Wheeler doesn't seem to notice him.

With surprise, Kwame notes that the American only has eyes for Linka, and that his gaze is intent, almost hot.

Linka though, is ignoring them all. She's talking to herself in Russian, and Kwame hears a snap in the ground before the panel in the wall swings open, revealing a basic computer keyboard.

'Whoa,' Wheeler exhales, and Kwame nods.

Linka stands calmly, dusting herself off as best as she can.

'Two minutes,' Gi says worriedly, but Linka doesn't reply. She simply goes to the keyboard and starts typing, her fingers moving in a flurry, a little crease appearing in her forehead as she works.

Ma-Ti moves next to her, once more shining the light of his ring onto the computer, but saying nothing.

He doesn't want to disturb her, Kwame realises. He sees Wheeler's mouth open next to him, but Kwame turns, holding up his hand.

'Let her finish,' he orders.

'We got a minute left, man,' Wheeler warns. 'And I don't know about you, but my confidence in this girl ain't high.'

At Wheeler's words, Linka's head turns, and she gazes at him over her shoulder. Her eyes lock with the American's, and Kwame sees challenge buried within them. Challenge... and something else.

Kwame pauses. Trouble might be brewing here, he realises.

But there's no time to ponder the thought further. With her eyes still locked on Wheeler's, Linka presses a button, and the doors of the office swing open. A whirring noise begins somewhere in the distance, and Kwame recognises it as the lift in the shaft.

Linka has opened the doors and returned power to the facility, Kwame realises.

He swings into action.

'Get to the lift,' he orders. 'If we stay together, I can use Earth to keep the ground from crushing us, and at least in the shaft they will have a chance of finding us before...'

But Linka smiles, her eyes still on Wheeler.

'There is no hurry,' she says coolly. 'I already cancelled the detonation of the bombs.'

Wheeler's mouth drops open.

'When did you do that?' Gi asks, amazed.

Linka shrugs. 'Around a minute ago. Right when the Yankee was doubting his confidence in my work.'

Her words are loaded, and Kwame internally groans, ready to stop another spat between his blonde and red-headed companions.

But Wheeler is staring at Linka with a degree of amazement in his eyes.

'Where the hell did you learn to do that?' he asks her simply.

She shrugs again. 'It is basic wiring. Basic computing.'

But he shakes his head. 'Trust me, there wasn't anythin' 'basic' about that, toots.'

Linka flushes. She must realise that there are four pairs of eyes on her, because she immediately looks down. 'I graduated high school a little early,' she says to the floor. 'I occupied my time with computing.'

'How early?' Wheeler presses her.

She doesn't look up. 'I was twelve.'

Kwame silently feels shock, while Gi whistles under her breath. Ma-Ti quietly looks pleased, while Wheeler... well, Wheeler continues to stare at Linka, his face searching.

'Twelve,' he repeats, and Linka looks up to meet his gaze.

'Yes, well, it does not matter... I mean, when did you graduate, hmm?'

Her voice is sharp again, and Kwame feels that old dread rising. He doesn't want the American to argue with Linka when it feels like they are finally making progress with her.

But unaccountably, Wheeler grins.

'Any day now,' he says, winking at her. 'So, you're like... a genius, or somethin'?'

Linka looks at him uneasily. 'I do not... I mean... yes, I suppose so. I know what you are thinking, Yankee.'

He shakes his head slowly. 'No, I don't think you do. But I'd like to see you guess.'

'You are thinking I am one of those clever girls. One of those book worms. Or, what did they call me at school...? Zashkvar.'

'What does that mean?'

She flushes again. 'It is a slang word... it means, umm, lame, I think. Not cool, like you.'

'Ain't nothin' cool about me, honey. I'm hot all over right now, in fact.'

Wheeler's eyes have shifted from amazement into something else, and Linka is meeting them without fear, and once more, Kwame worries.

This could be trouble.

'So you're a genius,' Wheeler continues blithely. 'A gymnast and an expert with computers. What else you got hidden up your sleeve, babe?'

'Babe?' Linka repeats scathingly. She puts a hand on her hip, considering him. 'There is nothing else hidden 'up my sleeve' that you will ever get a look at, Yankee. So you do not need to worry.'

He grins again. 'That sounds like a challenge, babe.'

'I thought it was more a rejection.'

'Nah,' Wheeler replies easily. 'You're just gettin' lost in translation.'

'I speak four languages,' Linka snaps. 'If anyone is lost, it is you.'

But Wheeler steps closer to her. 'Nope. I speak the language of love, babe. Didn't I tell you that?'

Linka groans, pushing him away lightly. 'Bohze Moy.'

Wheeler laughs, motioning to the door. 'Come on, babe. I could do with a breath of fresh air.'

'You mean cooling down?'

Gi and Ma-Ti laugh, but Kwame stops, watching them all walk towards the lift shaft.

He feels it. It's like a storm cloud, brewing above them. The distant rumble of thunder, or an earthquake, perhaps.

He stares at the departing Planeteers, and at Wheeler and Linka, who walk with two safe steps between them, though their heads glance toward each other every so often.

This could definitely be trouble.

Linka eats her toast calmly while Kwame and Wheeler stare at her.

'What do you mean, MAL isn't here?' Wheeler asks, and Kwame turns to her, his head still spinning.

Linka gestures to the ceiling above them. 'Look at the cameras,' she shrugs. 'This is an aged CCTV system. How do you say it?' she glances at Wheeler. 'Old school?'

He nods. Kwame frowns at her. 'But Linka, MAL is a sophisticated system.'

'Exactly,' Linka says. 'There is no way a programme like MAL could be in such out of date technology. He is not linked in here. He is not listening to us or watching us.'

'He heard us talkin' about the babies,' Wheeler offers, but Linka shakes her head.

'No, Gi heard us talking about the babies. Because she was listening. Not MAL.'

Wheeler pauses, and exchanges a glance with Kwame.

'I don't understand,' Kwame says. 'Where is he then?'

At that, Linka frowns. Her forehead creases slightly, as it always does when she is thinking, and Kwame almost smiles. Next to them, Wheeler reaches for some grapes, but Linka turns to him quickly, knocking them out of his hand.

'Only cooked food, James,' she says quietly. 'Don't eat anything fresh, or drink any liquid that has not been boiled. This is North Korea.'

Kwame stares at her. 'Gi said that Blight flies in what she needs...'

But Linka shakes her head. 'I do not think that Gi has a full understanding of what is going on here, Kwame. I would put good money on those grapes having been grown locally,' she rests a hand on Wheeler's, squeezing his fingers. 'Food here could make you very sick, moya lyubov.'

Wheeler nods, reaching for the toast on Linka's plate. 'Okay,' he agrees. 'What do you reckon is goin' on then, babe?'

Linka glances around the room once more. 'Have you noticed how... simplistic this base is? Think about the last base of Blight's we were in. Remember?'

Kwame swallows. He's tried for years to forget that place.

'State of the art technology,' Linka carries on. 'A top-notch security detail. It was colour-themed pink even. There was no expense spared.'

'So, maybe she's downgraded her lifestyle,' Wheeler offers, his mouth jammed with bread. Kwame groans.

'Yes,' Linka agrees, surprising them both. 'She has downgraded. But why?'

She sits back, looking stumped, and Kwame leans forward, looking at her intently.

'She has lost funds, perhaps. Or is not earning what she once did, maybe.'

'Aww, poor little rich bitch,' Wheeler mutters. 'The financial crisis got her too, did it?'

Linka looks up at him, light in her eyes. 'I think a different sort of crisis hit her, maybe,' she pauses. 'She is still working, obviously. But perhaps she is having difficulty storing or even accessing her money.'

'She is working for North Korea, though,' Kwame offers, trying to follow the Linka's complex thought pattern. 'They must pay her well.'

'No,' Linka says, still frowning. 'I do not think they are paying her at all. I think they are trading with her, which is very different.'

'What do you mean?' Wheeler asks, and Kwame can hear the puzzlement in his voice.

'Gi and Blight... they work together because they are trading with each other... Gi is not paying Blight for her services, nor vice versa. And North Korea...' Linka closes her eyes momentarily. 'North Korea is allowing Blight to live here... they have given her this basic facility... and a smattering of soldiers... but I do not believe they are paying her. She is trading with them.'

'Okay, so she's tradin' with people these days instead of takin' money from em',' Wheeler shrugs. 'I don't understand why that's important?'

Kwame turns to him. 'Because it is out of character. It is different. Linka...'

He turns to his friend, but she is still frowning, staring at the table. Her hand drifts to Wheeler's arm almost instinctively, and she strokes his skin thoughtfully.

Kwame almost smiles. It is always the same, with those two.

'North Korea,' Linka says, mostly to herself. 'Why North Korea? Why not Russia? Or China? Or even the U.S?'

'Maybe she doesn't like the food there, babe,' Wheeler offers, nudging her slightly. 'Or maybe she just doesn't want the next Star Wars movie spoiled so she's goin' all out to avoid spoilers by living in a twitter free country and...'

It's like a cloud lifts from Linka's face and she brightens, her face breaking out into a huge smile. She leans forward and grabs Wheeler's cheeks, kissing him firmly. Kwame wants to laugh at the look of surprise on the American's face.

'Yankee! That is it! I knew I loved you for a reason.'

'I thought it was my rugged good looks,' Wheeler replies, still looking stunned.

'That too, James. But of course! Why did I not see it before? Blight... she lives here, in North Korea, that is, because it is - for the most part - an internet free country.'

Kwame frowns. 'I don't understand. Why would someone like Blight need to live in a country without the internet? She could hack into any server she wanted to anyway...'

'Not Blight,' Linka returns. 'MAL could. Not Blight.'

'So...?' Wheeler nudges Linka gently. 'What's all this mean, babe?'

'I think MAL has gone rogue,' Linka says, and Kwame feels his coffee cup slide from his fingers.

'What?' he whispers.

'MAL. He has gone rogue. Broken away from Blight.'

'But... but he is a computer programme? How can he break protocol...?' Kwame splutters.

'He is a very sophisticated system. The best coding work I have ever seen,' Linka murmurs. 'It is not a big stretch of the imagination to think he could gain consciousness.'

'A mind of his own?' Wheeler whispers.

'Yes.'

'That's fuckin' terrifying.'

But Linka frowns again. 'Maybe not. Think about it, Yankee. MAL breaks away from Blight, and she goes from state of the art technology to a backwards base in North Korea. She goes from taking cash payments to trading. Why would she do that, unless...'

Kwame swallows. 'Unless what?'

Linka suddenly smiles. 'Unless she is hiding.'

'Hiding?' Kwame asks.

'Yes,' Linka replies easily. She sips on her coffee. 'I think MAL has been causing problems for Blight. He is a computer programme... he could slip in anywhere. Halt a transaction. Empty a bank account. Change a name on a passport,' she pauses, turning to Wheeler. 'He could flag my passport to American immigration.'

Wheeler's eyes grow wide. 'Those immigration guys... Brusilov and Tyomkin said they saved your life. They stopped you at customs... which meant that you weren't handed over to Volkov...'

'Who was working for Blight,' Linka finishes. 'MAL flagged my passport to American immigration to stop Blight from getting her hands on me. Brusilov and Tyomkin also said that they'd traced money to Blight through Volkov. Millions of dollars were being moved from account to account. Why would Blight do that?'

Wheeler nods, clearly having caught the thread of Linka's thinking. 'To stop MAL from finding it.'

Kwame runs a hand over his face. He'd heard about Brusilov and Tyomkin from Linka after her return from New York, but he hadn't taken in the full story, not really. He'd simply been glad she was home, and safely too. And it hadn't just been her personal safety he'd been fretting for... he also looked out for her emotional safety too. For although he loved Wheeler like he was his brother - although he'd always loved Wheeler like a brother - he'd never really forgiven him for breaking Linka's heart the way he had.

'Brusilov and Tyomkin,' he says. 'Who did they work for again?'

Linka pauses. 'They said it was an organisation with an interest in keeping the cold war cool,' she replies, clearly dragging forth a memory. 'That was all they said.'

'They worked for MAL,' Wheeler comments blandly.

Kwame and Linka both turn to look at him.

'What?' Linka asks.

Wheeler shrugs, reaching for some more toast. 'It's kinda obvious, babe, lookin' back on it. They worked for MAL. It doesn't take a genius like you to figure out that MAL, after gaining consciousness and goin' rogue, would want to set up an institution of his own to keep Blight in check.'

Kwame watches as Linka's face softens, and as she reaches over to Wheeler, running a hand down his cheek.

'You are a man of many surprises, James,' she says lightly, and Wheeler looks down into her eyes. 'What else are you hiding up your sleeve, hmm Yankee?'

There's a memory somewhere in her words, and Kwame watches as Wheeler recalls it. He leans closer to her, kissing her shoulder tenderly.

'Nothin' I'm hidin' from you, babe.'

He kisses her again, and Kwame rolls his eyes.

Trouble, the two of them.

He clears his throat. 'Shall we get back to working this out?' he asks, and Linka blushes.

'Sorry,' she says, but Wheeler grins.

'No, you ain't.'

She grins back. 'You are right. I am not.'

Kwame clears his throat one more time, and Wheeler shrugs easily.

'So,' the American begins. 'MAL has gone rogue, and set up an organisation designed to stop the work of Barbara Blight. He's messin' with her income and money, and any little schemes she's comin' up with, including gettin' her hands on Linka here. Right?'

'Right,' Linka nods.

'So Blight's high-tailed it out here to work - in trade - with Gi and North Korea. The country is heavily... babe, what's the word... incorporated... or... indoctrinated...'

'Encrypted,' she corrects him, and he nods.

'Right. So, North Korea's heavily encrypted, which means MAL has less chance of messin' with Blight's plans here. Great. What does that mean for us then?'

Linka smiles. 'It means we have a chance, Yankee. Do you not see? MAL is clearly intent on stopping Blight in her efforts. And that will include what she has planned for us here... and for Ma-Ti,' she adds, a stab of pain in her voice. 'Clearly Blight wants something from Gi. Not our rings... something more. MAL will want to stop her from claiming it, whatever it is.'

Her hand drifts to her stomach and Kwame looks sharply at Wheeler.

'We will not let her take your children, Linka.'

'Our children,' she corrects him, lacing hands with Wheeler once more.

'We need to contact MAL,' Wheeler mutters.

'Yes,' Linka agrees.

'How?' Kwame asks. 'As you say, the internet is heavily encrypted here...'

'Blight must have a connection somewhere,' Linka muses. 'We get to Blight, we distract her...'

'We connect with MAL,' Wheeler finishes. 'Easy.'

Kwame sighs. 'There is nothing easy about any of this.'

'It is the only plan we have though, Kwame,' Linka says, reaching out for his hand now too. 'I want to get you home too. Sam and Haya -'

Kwame nods, feeling his eyes grow heavy. He cannot think of Sam or Haya right now. He misses them so much it is like an ache inside of him. An ache that grows with every hour of their absence.

'We contact MAL,' he agrees, with a sigh. 'Now, tell me about Ma-Ti.'

Linka and Wheeler exchange an uncomfortable glance.

'I know it is hard,' Kwame says. 'I do not like to think of him either. Not like this. But Gi said they plan to wake him this morning. From death. If they do so... and Ma-Ti is conscious, just like MAL...' he pauses again to take a deep breath. 'We will need to plan what to do with him too.'

'Do with him?' Wheeler asks sharply.

'Yes,' Kwame nods sadly. 'We need to decide whether we let him live, or watch him die once more.'