Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing! NOTHING!!!

A/N: Any previous faith that my small scope of readers had in me, I am sure, has thus since perished or evaporated into the atmosphere. I've been completely absorbed in my biology class these past few weeks, which has drained all of my free time for anything except eating and sleeping. I have, in a sense, become a slave to my textbook. I apologize for the severely delayed update.

Operation: AUSTRALIA

Chapter Seven

A Home and Hosed Rescue

(A Successful Rescue Mission)

Wow, guess what that's about....(sarcasm...)

"Man, how mucha dat ketchup are you gonna put on ya chilidawg, Hoagie?" Abby groaned and leaned up against the snack shack's grimy counter, her own chilidog sitting limply in her palm.

Hoagie flashed a humorous grin. "I want to see how much I can handle. Wanna make a bet?"

"Sure. I betcho're gonna barf that all ova' the shack if you eat it. Now hand over that ketchup!"

"Fine, fine." Hoagie grumbled and reluctantly passed her the half-empty bottle. He paused and sniffed the air. "Hey, do you smell something burning?"

"Huh?" Abby froze and perked her head attentively. "Yeah, somethin's definitely burnin'. Let's take a look," she replied and left her chilidog on the counter, hurriedly running out of the shack.

"Wait for me, Abby!" Hoagie protested and paused, looking at her abandoned chilidog hungrily. "She won't notice," he added and wolfed down her snack along with his own and ran through the door outside.

"Hoagie!!" called Nigel and Kuki, who were standing by Fran's jeep. Hoagie glanced at the group and shifted his attention to the small square restroom addition by the gas station's main office. Thick black smoke was curling from the windows. He wiped the ketchup from the side of his mouth and ran over to rejoin the rest of the group.

"What's going on?" he asked breathlessly and rubbed the sweat out from under his aviation goggles.

Nigel's face was in a firm frown. "A fire's just broken out in the restroom! Have you seen Wally? We're trying to regroup."

"Wally? I thought...he was...with you guys..." Hoagie replied, gasping for air as he swallowed down the aftertaste of the chilidogs.

Abby came running up with Kick and Fran behind her. "We can't find 'im. Have you guys seen him?" Nigel solemnly shook his head and Hoagie grimaced.

Kick watched the restrooms burning in mild amusement, his hands shoved into his grubby pockets. "That's a nice tint'a smoke, yeh?" The children stared at the heavy balding man in horror. With his casual on-looker attitude it seemed as though he watched his restrooms burst into flames on a regular basis, and it was no big deal to him.

"Mr. Kick," Nigel began degradingly, as an adult would scold a child, "you do realize that your bathroom is on fire, correct?"

Kick let out a wheezy laugh, his dusty hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. "Ah could care less! Ah'm scheduled ta have the restrooms remodeled next week anyways. This makes the job easier on the demolition team."

Fran nodded her head in understanding. "Yeah, that makes heaps of sense, Ah guess," she broke off in mid-sentence as Phyllis walked over to the crowd, her purse daintily slung over her shoulder.

"What is going on here?" she asked inquisitively, her voice aridly unfriendly as she glared at the children as though the mysterious fire had been their responsibility. "Where is everyone?"

"Everyone's here but Wally," Nigel answered and cast the woman an equally distasteful glare.

Phyllis pursed her lips in aversion. "Oh? Where's the little girl in green? I thought she was with you."

Nigel froze and scanned the faces in his group. "Kuki?"

Hoagie and Abby exchanged glances. "Wasn't she jus' here?" Abby asked, her voice slightly wavering. In unison the group turned their attention to the burning restrooms and watched in horror as a small green figure ran towards the building.

Adrenaline is a fickle thing. In times of dire emergency it can rise to the challenge and enable its host with unforeseen powers and abilities; rendering them capable of what was previously unimaginable. Those who recognize and harness this temporary enhancement become, in a sense, fleeting heroes and are remember thus for doing so. The majority of us, however, live the remainder of our lives in shadowed humiliation; constantly reminded of what we could and would have done had we mustered up the audacity to do so.

It wasn't the first time she had seen a fire. Fragments of memory still haunted her subconscious of the ritual school drills for fire, tsunami, and earthquake. A lofty, self-assured voice had always comforted her with the notion that such disasters would never befall her, and that they were only taught on the notion that there was a minimal possibility of their occurrence.

Never had she imagined that she would face such a disaster and under such circumstances. Whenever she imagined it, the disaster would take place at school; the class would file out of the building in a neat single line, the brave firefighters would extinguish the flames, and perhaps, if they were blessed with good fortune, the building would be rendered damaged and unsatisfactory, thus granting the students with a much-appreciated and unforeseen vacation.

Kuki swerved to her right, passing by the two front doors and headed to the far side of the building. Her actions were foolish—that she was aware of—but to burst into a flaming building through the front door would be even more foolish. She glanced up at the narrow window closely hinged below the flat roof.

A dirty abandoned Ford Mustang sat underneath the window, some discarded project from Kick's earlier days. Decayed and forsaken, its windshield was heavily caked with generations of grime, dirt, and other unknown particles of filth. Kuki drew her mouth in a tight frown and scampered atop the hood of the car, all the while praying it would support her weight. The window was just in her reach—she jumped off the hood and scraped the ground, grabbed a handful of rocks into her fist, and then pelted them at the window. The rocks shattered the glass and plumes of dark smoke erupted from within the building.

As she fumbled back atop the car, it occurred to her that she was breaking and entering into the boys' bathroom—something she had never even remotely dreamed of doing—and she gave a grim smile. Careful to avoid the glass, she pulled her sleeves tightly around her arms and hands and ducked her head while wedging through the window. The smoke stung her eyes and she pulled her shirt closer around her face, covering her nose. Her feet blindly shuffled onto the ledge above the stalls, knocking over an empty bottle of insecticide spray into the flames. Kuki winced as she heard the can crash onto the tiled floor and jumped off the ledge, careful to land away from the flames by the sink and immediately dropped onto the floor in a crawl.

"Stay to the ground, where the smoke can't be found..." she found herself chanting the elementary school verse, her eyes stinging, and her sleeves torn by the glass from the window. Her eyes frantically scanned the floor for any signs of Wally, but avoided calling out to him in fear of inhaling the smoke. Fear and responsibility thundered around her temples, her head throbbing with the sounds of the fire. Time itself seemed to slow to a lethargic drawl, the flames flickering in suspended animation.

She kept close to the ground when suddenly she found herself kneeling in front of Wally, who was huddled into an unconscious orange lump near the sink. Without ascertaining his wellness she slung him under her arm easily, for he wasn't very heavy. "The trick is," she thought to herself despondently, "How do we get out?" The door was blocked, obviously, and the window was too high up—only if she were to climb back atop the ledge would she be able to reach it. "Darn, I didn't think about this..." Kuki wiped the sweat from her forehead, her green sleeves dark with soot, and glanced at the burning door.

It was then an abrupt stream of water jetted through the cracks in the crumbling wooden door, sending its charred remnants disintegrating into the fire. A light shone—Kuki thought—reminding her of a scene from the movies, and in the doorway stood Nigel, hose in hand, looking quite heroic and at the same time comical. Kick, Hoagie, and Abby were close behind, throwing sand onto the nearby flames as Nigel continued to spray down the flames; everyone was yelling soundless exclamations drowned out by the fire. Feeling a bubbling surge of relief, Kuki fumbled over to the doorway out into the sunlight and carefully placed Wally on the ground before sprawling herself onto the dirt in exhaustion.

Fran hurried over, her face deeply set in the wrinkles on her face. She cast Kuki an appreciative smile and turned her attention to Wally. Kuki dimly returned the grin, smiling up at the sky as she rolled over on her side and took a deep breath of air. It felt good to be alive.

"Tommy...Tommy! WAKE UP!!!"

He bolted upright in his seat, sending his head crashing into the ceiling. "Wha—?" Tommy stifled a yawn and glanced up at Mushi.

With a threatening glare, her fists buried amidst the folds of her shirtsleeves against her hips, she stared down at him reproachfully. "I thought you died! How did you manage to sleep through all that noise?!"

Tommy blinked hazily and scratched the side of his head. Where were they? "Wha...?" he repeated again and stared back in confusion.

Numbers 38 and 39 leaned over the backs of their seats to face him. "Sleep well, eh?" Number 39 chirruped, the pot sliding over his freckled nose. "Yeh can get up now; we've reached headquartehs."

"Headquarters?!" Tommy exclaimed. He blinked again in surprise—he must have fallen asleep while riding in the R.O.D.E.N.T. He leaned over and peered out the cockpit windows. Nothing but a wall of rocks and darkness loomed ahead. "I don't see anything. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, we're here alroight," the elder, Number 38 replied. He unbuckled his seatbelt and punched a square orange button on the control panel.

Instantly a cool feminine recorded voice sounded over the tinny intercom. "Please enter your access code."

"Lamingtons," Number 38 answered and scratched his nose.

"Eh...." Number 39 glanced warily at his older brother and twisted the handle on his pot. "Ah f'get meh password," he meekly replied.

Number 38 groaned. "Yeh favorite food, remember?"

Number 39's face lit up and he flashed an awkward, toothy grin. "Ah yeah! Ah remember!" He cleared his throat and straightened his back in the seat with self-prominence. "BEANS!" he proclaimed proudly. A mechanical whirr sounded and the rock barrier in front of the R.O.D.E.N.T. cleared away, revealing a steel-plated automatic door that whisked open after a series of clangs.

"Cool..." Mushi whistled. "Just like in the movies..." she grinned and Tommy returned the smile. He didn't have the heart to tell her that automated doors were nothing compared to some of the technology he'd seen his brother work on. Besides, she had been up in some of the aircraft before so this wasn't that new to her, he figured.

"Hey, didn't yeh guys go up ta' visit the Moon Base?" Number 39 asked curiously. "If yeh thought that wuz cool, wait till yeh getta load o'this place. Ah went here once before with 38 an' it was so coooooool...." He sighed and his eyes glazed over as he fondly dwelled on the memory.

The machine moved through the doors on an unseen conveyor belt and halted in front of a steel staircase. The cockpit opened and Number 38 undid 39's seatbelt. "Yeh guys ready to go? We've gotta report ta Numbah 112 so she can give us directions."

Mushi and Tommy nodded in unison, quickly forgetting about their luggage and excitedly jumped out of the robot to follow the two Aussie escorts up the stairs.

"So, what do yeh guys think they're gonna have yeh do?" Number 38 asked politely to stimulate conversation.

"Uh..." Mushi and Tommy exchange nervous glances. They hadn't exactly discussed that yet. "We're not quite sure," she answered honestly.

Number 38 nodded in approval. "Yeah, tryin' ta figure out wot the head's plannin' is pretty tricky. Numbah 112's no jelly kneed, yeh know."

Number 39 grinned and his pot slovenly fell in front of his eyes. "Mm-hmm! Loike the time she kicked me in the daks cuz Ah wuzn't pushin' the roight button," he added as though it were a formidable achievement.

"Yeah, well, tha's only because yeh were pushing the detonation button, yeh drongo!"

"Oh yeah...Ah forgot about that."

Tommy winced. He knew Numbers 38 and 39 were amateurs, or at least 39 was since he was newly inaugurated, but whatever respect he held for the two brothers was quickly diminishing.

Number 39 quickly shrugged off his embarrassment and tipped his pot atop the bridge of his nose. "So how come yeh not with the rest o' yeh group?" He passed a mischievous grin. "How come yeh two are travelin' together? Ah thought we'd be seein' Numbahs One an' Five on accounta them bein' the boss an' second in command."

Tommy furrowed his brows in confusion. "Um....well, er, you see....that's because..."

Number 39 raised his eyebrows from behind the pot. "Eh? Yeh can tell meh; Ah keep secrets." Number 38 rolled his eyes and made a disagreable cough.

"Ah, well, it's no secret, really," Mushi casually declared and dramatically swept her hand to the side and gave Tommy a hearty slap on the back. He stared at her in shock. "You see, Number Two and I are pretty close." She cast Number 39 a playfully surreptitious grin and patted Tommy on the back again, much to his burning discomfort.

"Oooh, Ah see," Number 39 replied and returned the grin, glancing at Tommy as he did so. "Don' mind meh then." He gave Tommy a thumbs-up and continued up the staircase. Tommy felt his face burn with embarrassment and confusion. What had Mushi meant by that? Was she serious? And most of all: why did he care? He scowled at his blushing face in hopeless bewilderment and hoped no one else saw.

"Ah, here we are," Number 38 exclaimed as the reached the top of the staircase. The doors slid open upon his vocal activation and the group found themselves face-to-face with a very stern looking girl with a decorated hemp basket on her head and a mismatched pair of overalls and a tie-dye t-shirt.

"Where have yeh two been? Ah thought yeh'd be back by now," she glared dourly at Number 39 and turned her attention to 38, her frown melting into a friendly smile. "Ah bet yeh brother wuz causin' yeh trouble again, roight Numbah 38?"

Number 38 shrugged uninterestedly. "Not really, Numbah 112. We ran into a mess at the airport, but we fixed it up. Numbah 39's not really much of a cactus—he's still learnin' though."

Number 112 frowned, her rumpled auburn hair oddly sticking out from underneath the basket. "Ah still think he's more trouble than he's worth," she glared. Number 39 gazed up at her from underneath his pot headgear with adulation, his eyes sparkling in awe. She gave him an unfriendly cold glance and gestured to Tommy and Mushi. "Ah bet yeh two are pooped. Ah'll fill yeh in on the details later; let's get yeh fed first. We've got plenty o' lamingtons an' dogs eye if yeh're feelin' peckish."

"'Dogs eye'?" Mushi cried vehemently and hastily drew away from Number 112.

"It's a type o' meat pie—really tasty," Number 112 grinned at the disgusted reactions from Tommy and Mushi. "But don't worry; we've got plenty o' candy too, so eat up!"

"Ah really apologize. Ah had no idea it was such a hazard," Kick bowed humbly and shook his head in disgrace. "If only Ah knew, Fran. Really," he sighed.

Fran shrugged and Kick shook his head dejectedly. "No one's hurt, yeh goon. How were yeh supposed t'know the dunny was going ta burst in flames? Ah'm not blamin' yeh, so don't get yeh daks in a bundle." Kick groaned guiltily and Phyllis pursed her thin lips in dislike.

Wally sat against the rock he had sat at earlier, telling Nigel and Kuki his story about the bunyip and his grandfather. It all seemed so long ago. His mind wandered to his jarringly realistic dream and he shuddered. It was too real to be a dream, but what did it mean? He ran his hand through his rumpled hair and winced; some of the ends were charred. "Ah look loike ah mess," he groaned and stared at his feet. Only one shoe remained; the other he had attempted to use to extinguish the flames had been lost in the fire.

The station's restroom building was surprisingly in good condition, and the group had managed to put out most of the flames with the hose, or at least that's what Wally had been told since he had been unconscious through the entire dilemna. Hoagie walked over to Wally, his aviation goggles still speckled in soot, and sat next to him by the rock. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, Ah guess so. Didn' see that comin'," Wally replied half-heartedly and frowned as he pulled out some ashes from his hair.

Hoagie rubbed his goggles to clear the soot. "If I had a joke to tell you I would, but I can't think of anything funny to say," he commented and gave Wally a modest grin.

Wally shrugged. "It coulda been worse. At least it was only meh an' not any o' the others."

Hoagie stared at Wally in confusion. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Wot?"

"About Kuki?"

"Kuki?" Wally cast Hoagie a panicky glance. "Wot happened to Kuki? She didn' go in there did she?" He asked, half-yelling. A sticky wave of guilt passed over him—the last he'd seen of Kuki he hadn't been very nice to her.

Hoagie raised his eyebrows. "I guess Fran didn't tell you yet. That's odd..." he trailed off in amusement as he watched Wally fumble with the drawstrings on his hoodie in infuriated frustration.

"Well?! Are yeh gonna tell me or wot?!"

Hoagie paused, relishing in Wally's interest. "If only I had a joke...this would be perfect!" He sighed. "You see—"

"She didn't; yeh know..." Wally's face fell.

Hoagie gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "Lucky you! Kuki saved your butt, man! If it hadn't been for her you'd be barbeque!"

Wally sat in stunned stupor until it sunk in. He bit his lip and glared at Hoagie. "Well why didn't you jus' tell meh?!"

Hoagie's grin widened. "Aw, I was just having some fun. She's tired after all—Kuki, I mean. She's off in the snack shack with Abby." His grin hardened and his face grew serious. "We were really scared. That fire was dangerous and she ran off without telling anyone." He cast a glance over at Kick, who was continuing his rambling apology to Fran and Phyllis. "To tell you the truth, I was pretty scared myself. From the looks of this place I wouldn't have been surprised if Kick didn't bother to keep around any hoses, but I was wrong. Good thing Nigel saw them."

Wally nodded dumbly, the guilt still washing over him uncomfortably. "By the way, where is Nigel?"

"Over by the restrooms checking them out. Who knows what he's doing. I looked it over and the fire seemed like an accident to me," Hoagie shrugged. He snapped his clean goggles back in place and hastily jumped up from the rock. "Hey, Abby," he grinned.

Abby and Kuki walked over to the rock, both still slightly sooty from the fire. Kuki's face was scratched on one side, but she appeared to be in good spirits. "How ya' feelin' Wally?" Abby asked and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Okay, Ah guess," he returned the grin weakly. "Hey, uh, Kuki....erm....sorry about earlier an' all," he began and brushed out the remaining ashes from his hair.

Kuki blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeh know...Ah didn't mean t'get mad at yeh," Wally replied uneasily and averted his gaze away from her, his face turning red.

Kuki shrugged. "Oh, that's okay!" She beamed and waved her messy sleeves in the air. "I know you weren't really mad."

Abby and Hoagie exchanged grins. "Speakin' of which, Hoagie," Abby cast a treacherous glare at Hoagie and placed her fists on her hips. "Do ya have any idea what might've happened to my chilidog? You know, the one I was going to eat earlier?"

"Er...not a clue," Hoagie replied, turning faintly pink.

"Reaaaally.... I see," Abby replied, obviously unconvinced. "Why don't you come with me to buy another one, huh?"

Hoagie grinned awkwardly. "Um...sure," he answered and turned towards the snack shack.

Nigel walked over to the rock and watched Hoagie and Abby leave. He cast Wally a sympathetic glance. "How are you feeling? Your grandmother says we'll be leaving soon. Apparently your uncle's house isn't much further and he's arranged to have some guests over to meet you."

"Ah, okay then."

Nigel frowned and continued to stare pensively.

"Wot? Is there sumthin' on meh face? Cuz Ah probably look loike a wreck roight now anyways."

His friend shrugged apologetically. "It's nothing. Let's get going."

Wally and Kuki exchanged glances. "All right," Kuki replied and skipped over to the jeep, peering over her shoulder momentarily as she left.

"Oh, Ah see," Wally commented, realizing that Nigel wanted to talk with him alone. "What's on yeh mind?"

"Wally...that fire..."

"Yeah?"

"It might have not been an accident."

Wally staggered in shock. "Wot are yeh talkin' about? How could it 'ave not been an accident?"

Nigel lowered his shades and gave Wally a grim stare. "Did you notice anything odd about the restrooms when you went in? Try to remember."

"Uh..." Wally scratched his head. "Lesse...well, it wuz pretty dirty."

"That's to be expected, of course. Anything else?"

"The mirrors were cracked....an' it smelled pretty bad too..."

"What did it smell like?"

"Erm...kinda loike gasoline."

Nigel's face went dark. "I thought so."

"Wot's wrong with that? This is a gas station. Kick probably had a spill or sumthin'," Wally protested lackadaisically. He didn't like where the conversation was heading.

"I highly doubt it. Though Kick may appear messy, he's actually quite organized. I had no difficulty finding where he stored the emergency hose." Nigel replied and lowered his voice as he continued. "Do you remember who filled up the gas tank for the jeep?"

"Yeh're not serious are yeh??" Wally cried in horror. "Phyllis.... Phyllis filled up the jeep, but only because.... because..."

"Because she offered to, right?" Nigel finished.

Wally shook his head in disbelief. "Look, Ah hate Phyllis just as much as yeh, but Ah don't think meh uncle's secretary would try an' murder me."

Nigel shrugged. "You know your uncle better than I do, so my judgment isn't as accurate, but I've distrusted that adult since we first met her." He dug his hand into his khaki pockets, bringing out a rumpled plastic bag. "I found this near the wastebasket by the restrooms. Do you know what this is?"

"Dirt?" Wally asked incredulously and studied the brown flakes in the bag.

"Tobacco. Cigarette tobacco. The only one who smokes, if I'm not mistaken, is Phyllis. I think there's more to this trip than we're aware of."

A/N: This definitely wasn't my greatest chapter--it was much too wordy in the middle. You'll have to excuse the gaping plot holes. To say that they managed to extinguish the fire with a hose is stretching the point a bit, plus I'm interested in how Nigel recognized the tobaccoo...hm....

Plus, I know this has been kind of dragging, as far as the plot goes. But I've the remainder of the plot sketched out and a pretty good idea as to where the rest of the story's going to go--plus a few new characters, (I know, I know. I'm trying not to make any more) but I'd appreciate and suggestions and ideas. Thanks!